First Contact

Chapter 192: (Del'Var)

DEAR: Uln'Var, Revered Mother

As I write this it is storming outside my cottage. Lightning and thunder and heavy rain.

I find it comforting.

The Terrans offered to put up a weather control system but we declined, preferring to learn to coexist with the weather of this planet. It cannot be too severe as the islands have vegetation on them.

I went outside and stood with the others in the rain, feeling it on my skin.

Oh, speaking of skin, we have all been growing fur. It itches like crazy but seems to be coming in everywhere but our palms and the bottom of our feet. Very soft, slick fur that actually feels nice to the touch. Tre'Var has white fur around his eyes, it makes him look like he's constantly been startled. One of the Terrans nicknamed him "Peepers" which caught on.

I have found I have been taking a greater interest in things. Not just 'what's that' but 'why is that' and 'what else is like that' that I never had before.

I spent an entire day laying on my stomach on a warm flat rock watching the little creatures inside a tidal pool, marvelling over their little lives.

The doctor says this is normal. The medications I was being given by the Overseers dulled me in some ways and the doctors also believe it somehow prevented full body hair covering.

I miss you greatly. I hope this finds you well. Right now I have no fear for myself or our people here.

Respect and Honor: Del'Var, your male child

-----------------

DEAR: Uln'Var, Revered Mother

The Terrans said we may include glossy high-definition printouts of images of us to send to you. I hope you like the three I am sending. (The limit, sadly) The first one is me, Tre'Var, and a human 'striker pilot' named "Ransom" who flies combat hovercraft. We are enjoying something called 'beer' as we teach Ransom how to fish. The second is of me in wood working class. I'm learning to carve the edge of a picture frame in patterns. I enjoy working with wood, it gives me comfort and relieves my stress and anxiety. The third one is of me in front of my hut with Kle'Var, Tre'Var, and Nim'Lur. He had to have his eyes replaced with mechanical ones after the battle he was forced to fight in. We are roasting wide flat-shelled mollusks we gathered for a meal.

Nim'Lur had bad luck. He was tasked with defending the interior of a building with an ion pistol and a Terran soldier backhanded him in the face in close combat. He stays with Tre'Var and we all help him. He says the eyes are strange but 'kind of wonderful' since he can see in the dark and even swim with them.

I love swimming here. The water is warm and my pelt is starting to get another coat. We're allowed to eat the mollusks we pry off the rocks. Kle'Var uses the shells, which have beautiful iridescent interiors, to craft things.

In some ways I wish you and our family were here. If it wasn't a prison camp I would urge you to join me. It is so wonderful here and no Overseer comes along and drops a patty on my shoes or pushes me out of line. The Terrans merely provide security, but not even close enough to LawSec to worry about.

I do not know what I think of that, mother. The Terran Military Police are less oppressive than the LawSec or CorpSec troops were. My room is searched once a week, but the Terrans didn't seem to care about the wood tools or the shucking knife I had. They don't rip up my cottage the way LawSec used to tear up my bedroom. They use a lot of scanners.

Today I learned about the Digital Omnimessiah. Apparently it was a real being who coalesced from 'sundered strings of code of a murdered world' and brought peace to the Terrans after nearly a century of warfare.

Respect and Honor: Del'Var, your male child

-----------------

DEAR: Uln'Var, Revered Mother

I hope you like the picture frames I made with Kle'Var's help. I included three more pictures. The first is of Kle'Var, Tre'Var and Nim'Lur and I working on making a boat. Nim'Lur used to work with his father making fishing boats.

His father was killed during the Terran assault on a different world. Nim'Lur cries often over it. While he is angry at the Terrans for his father's death the Terrans tell him that his feelings are valid although they do not apologize for it. It is strange that the Terrans allow us to feel anger at them after living my entire life with showing anger or aggression toward and Overseer resulted in imprisonment.

The second picture is an underwater picture I took with my implant, which is why all of that stuff is labeled. I have something called a 'retinal implant' which allows my datalink implant place information directly into my sight. It is a wonderful device. I can lay in bed and read books while I look at the ceiling and relax.

I find myself studying the lessons of the Digital Omnimessiah. Right now I'm reading the Book of Vat Grown Luke, which speaks often of the concept of something called a 'soul'. Something that all living, breathing, thinking beings share. I find myself wondering how much of the book is truth, how much myth, and how much hyperbole. I expected the Terrans to be angry at my skeptical questions but I was told that the constant questioning of perceived truth is the path to enlightenment.

Mother, the Terrans are a strange species as well as frightening.

I witnessed their might, Nim'Lur witnessed their power when a negligent backhand smashed in his face, but now we see their mercy.

It is frightening at times. One of the N'Kar from Camp Sigma-Nine jokingly sent a message to the Camp Warden asking if we could have the planet when the war is over. A week later the Camp Warden sent back a message that the Confederacy was willing to bargain this planet in exchange for our people's non-belligerent status.

Imagine that, mother. Just the reaction of "Sure, people we beat like a oyster against a rock, have this paradise planet we found and turned into a resort for you."

Anyway, I find myself becoming more and more long winded.

The third is of me building Camp Epsilon-Fifteen. It was a special request by some of my fellow N'Kar. They wanted fish farms and gardens and cave burrows since they're from the Storm-Ridden Isles. I am using my implants (retinal, datalink, palm holoprojector) to build the settlement in something called enhanced virtual reality. I can actually see what I'm putting down and how it interacts with the surroundings.

This letter is long. I hope I did not tire your eyes.

I love you and our family. I miss you.

Respect and Honor: Del'Var, your male child.

---------------

DEAR: Uln'Var, Revered Mother

Our 'pelts' have finally grown in. The itching of our oil glands was maddening until the Terrans figured out what was happening. They gave us oils to put on our pelts to sooth the itching until the glands started working right.

My pelt is soft and slick. It keeps me warm even when I dive to the bottom of the lagoon.

I know we look funny in the pictures, covered in fur, but I don't feel chilly all the time.

Mother, take a good look at the pictures. Do you see the older N'Kar with the injured arm and mechanical eye? Do you know who that is?

Uncle Val'Var! Your brother that vanished when you were kits!

Apparently the Terrans conquered the planet he had been taken to and 'liberated' it by armed force. Nearly eight thousand N'Karrians were freed! Uncle Val'Var has been in the mines for almost forty years but he's here, now, with us!

He sees the doctor every day and stays with me, Kle'Var, or Tre'Var. He has to have special medication to help him with something called "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder" from his imprisonment and what the humans call 'enslavement' for all these years. I had to design a special hut for him that doesn't make him feel like the walls are closing in but doesn't make him feel like it's too open. He is often escorted by a Terran male who helps him with his anxiety. It is odd to see so much empathy and care from something like a Terran primate.

BUT!

Please tell Clan Mother Eng'Var that her son still lives!

The others are still being inprocessed, but I have other news. Terrible news that I had to ask permission to tell you about.

Nearly a hundred female N'Karrian were rescued. Their names aren't being released at this time. I've heard the guards talk about 'war crimes' and 'violation of genetic rights' and have smelled the scent of Terran anger. We don't know what happened to them but whatever it is I was asked to customize not only the buildings but how the island should look.

I will check the names when they are released. Perhaps my older cousin didn't disappear due to a hovercraft accident. That's what they told us about Uncle Val'Var.

I asked a human what might have happened to the females and was told 'Something terrible, kid' and the smell of human anger grew so strong I had to flee.

Terrans eyes glow when they are angry. It's a dull red. Not their mechanical eyes. Their meat eyes.

I asked Ransom. He told me I didn't want to know. When I asked him again he just mentioned something about something called a 'pleasure dome' which for some reason made him very angry. He threw his beer bottle against the rocks hard enough to shatter it. After that I didn't see him and a guard told me he'd been reassigned to The Front.

I wish the war was over, mother. I wish we could all come home to N'Karoo or maybe bring N'Karoo here.

Respect and Honor: Del'Var, your male child.

-----------

My Beloved Child, Del'Var

Your news and pictures were greeted with well tempered joy. We still must be careful how we react to the letters we receive. I have only received two packs of your letters, as the Terrans have only found our little world in the last month.

I concealed your letters in my hiding spot, lest the Overseers find them. Several families have been punished for the content of the letters. However, Post Mistress Ast'Lar of the Windsong Isle, has gone to the Most High Overseer and told him that punishing for or impeding prisoner of war correspondence is against Terran Reformed Geneva Convention of 371 PD. According to her we should no longer be punished for what you write but we hide the letters and pictures anyway.

I saw the Terran when I was at the starport, learning to sort correspondence. You are right about how funny they look. Tall and yet squat, with large hands and feet. Their strength is amazing and their endurance rivals our own. I can see why you were so frightened when you faced their war machine.

You little sister Ink'Var wants you to know she hugs a doll she made of you every night and takes the doll with her to bed so you do not get lonely or have bad dreams.

The still images of your prison are hauntingly beautiful. Almost as if it is not a prison.

Your Clan Mother Olp'Var has said the pictures look like the stories her own Elders would tell her of how the world looked. She says that you have been both cursed and blessed, to live in paradise but separated from your family is a terrible burden. She urges you to stay strong.

She also saw the pictures of you with your fur and began to weep, saying you looked like her Clan Elder males when she was a small kit, before the Balding Times.

We love you so much. Come home soon.

I love you, my child.

Mother