Over the next few days, Kehan skips dinner to take on extra evening shifts for Steve. He had worked three nights straight to give me a chance to let Kehan recover at home, and now his body needs rest. Manides may be physically stronger than humans, but their need for sleep is about the same. With nobody home in the evenings, I use the late hours to study in the library. I’ve taken the clause certificate off the wall of my room and am now working my way through its five sheets of paper, each filled with dense Manidian letters.
Of course, I first tried running it through the automatic translator. The library has all kinds of devices for converting documents into other languages, but none of them worked. There was always some sort of beeping, followed by a message: “Error. Clause Translation Block.”
Ah, that’s tricky. The devices clearly recognize that my papers contain a “common clause,” and apparently, there’s some kind of general ban on translating these automatically. Cunning, indeed. Why block clauses? Am I not allowed to know what it’s about? And yet they handed these papers to me. Mocking—very mocking.
Sighing, I drag myself to the shelf containing the massive Manidian-English dictionaries. This will take days of work. I let one heavy book drop onto my desk and sit down, mentally preparing for the task ahead. Good old-fashioned book translation it is. Still, the view from the library window somehow sweetens the situation. The jungle stretches right up to the building, lush and abundant. What a nice place this is to work. I shouldn’t complain. All is good.
It’s very late by the time I return home. Curious, I peek into the kitchen. Did she eat the dinner package I left for her earlier in the day? Yes, she did! Kehan didn’t ask me to do this, but I knew she would come home briefly before heading out for another round in the forest. To be honest, I still have no idea what kind of animals she and Steve are observing. I know almost nothing about Kehan, really. Most of what I do know, Steve told me. When Kehan and I talk, it’s about general topics—debates about ethics, or particulars about life on this planet. Nothing personal.
The next day is crammed with tasks again. I juggle my biology studies, the painstaking translation of that cursed certificate, and my general study of the Manidian language. On top of all that, I still handle breakfast and lunch around here. My schedule is crowded, but strangely, I feel happier than ever before.
After about a week—what we’d call a week on Earth—Kehan is finally able to return to her normal shifts, and we share our first dinner together again. There’s a strange atmosphere between us. The hostility is gone—well, mostly. I have to admit most of that hostility came from me. But Kehan is different now too. She seems genuinely more interested in how I’m doing with my studies.
When I complain about struggling to translate the clause certificate, she snickers and tells me I need to work through it on my own. I’m still stuck on the first five words. She assures me with a teasing smile that the first words are the hardest, and everything will get easier after that. Grumbling, I reply to her mocking wisdom, which only amuses her more. Then, as if to distract me, she starts a simple dialogue with me in Manidian.
Of course, this immediately consumes my mind. Finding the right words on time in this language is darn difficult. If someone were filming us, they’d need to add subtitles with grammar corrections every time I spoke, just to avoid confusing the audience with my mangled attempts.
That evening, after happily enduring our Manidian practice session, I try something daring. Nervously, I start,
“Today’s pub night. Will you go with me this time?”
She looks at me suspiciously. “Why? Have you been there before?”
“Uh... ah... yes, with Steve.”
“What? When?”
“Uhm, when you were out.”
“Wait—you went to the pub with Steve while I was out?”
Suddenly, I realize the trap I’m tumbling into. “Uhgh, it was just for an hour! After I’d prepared you well for sleep!”
She narrows her eyes into thin slits. “So, so.”
Even more nervously, I repeat my suggestion. “Anyway, I’d like to go to the pub with you too. Not just with Steve.”
“Well, how can I say no?”
I look at her, puzzled. Does she mean that literally, or is she being sarcastic? With Manides, you can never quite tell. She notices my confusion and adds, grinning,
“Okay. Meaning, I’ll go with you.”
Relief floods through me, a wave I feel in every part of my body. She knows how to keep me in suspense.
Soon enough, we’re walking along the jungle path down to the village. Joy rises in me, fueled by the hope of seeing the other Manides from my previous visit. Silly pride also drives me—I want to show them that Kehan is here with me this time, especially after all that has happened.
And indeed, the two from last time are there. Of course, I want to join their table, but Kehan knows them so well that she’s faster, heading straight for them.
“Oh, Kehan! You finally decided to take your boy out for a beer!” one of them shouts.
She laughs. Instantly, I feel humbled—like a child among adults. Still, I sit down with them. It’s a pleasant group, and our beers arrive quickly. The thinner of the two male Manides leans toward me and whispers in my ear,
“She sometimes comes here when you’re already fast asleep.”
Mockingly, I turn to her and protest, “You did what?”
She laughs silently, waving it off until she composes herself enough to reply in a somewhat disciplined tone, “I didn’t want to add alcohol to your situation. Humans have a weird reputation with that, you know?”
Flouted, I watch the three of them snicker like crazy and sip my beer, trying to stomach their amusement. Still, I can’t deny it—I dig the situation. It has its own sweetness.
After about two hours of fun at the pub, we make our way home through the abundant forest. It’s a cozy, warm night, with just a few vivid animal sounds keeping the darkness alive. The dim light of the two moons helps us navigate the path. A little blurred by the beer, I suddenly feel the urge to address something that’s been on my mind for a long time.
“Kehan?”
“Yes?”
“There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for a while, but now I’m drunk enough to actually do it.”
She stops in her tracks, turning her face toward me with an investigative look. I stop too. The pale shimmer of the moons highlights the characteristic curves of her face and makes her eyes shine as they fix on me. Bravely, I continue,
“Umm... back then on the ship. You could have killed me, like all the others. But you didn’t. Why?”
Her response doesn’t come immediately, and I start to wonder how long it will take. Then, calmly, she replies,
“I made a mistake. I hadn’t checked my left flank while finishing off a soldier. You behaved a bit differently than the others, and suddenly you had the chance to kill me.”
“Ah, yes. But I was... I don’t know, somewhat paralyzed when I saw your face.”
She nods. “You appeared to have planned it well, and yet, when you saw me, you froze. You behaved like a total freshman. I would have been dead if you’d been someone else.”
“Ah, maybe.”
“So I noticed that you froze—out of fear or surprise—and I decided not to shoot, but to knock you out instead.”
“Uh... okay.”
For a moment, we just stare at each other. My confused mind can’t help but dig through some paradoxical thoughts. Back then, could I ever have guessed I’d look her in the eyes like this again? Never. How strange it all is.
Suddenly, she continues, “You were the enemy, and yet I owe you my life. Because it was particularly you. That’s why I came to your hearing in court. That’s why I invoked the common clause after you tried to seal your own death. Something in the back of my mind told me you were worth the effort.”
“Really? Am I?”
She smiles faintly. “Well, I was already losing hope, but then you took care of me during the stasis—for more than two days. And you didn’t try to take advantage of my condition.”
“Oh dear, I’d never. I’m so sorry I got you into that. Honestly, I feel really stupid.”
With determination, she replies, “Don’t be. You’re a hero in your own way.”
Having said that, she calmly turns and continues walking. Baffled, I follow her, my mind spinning.
Over the next few days, an undefined urge starts to possess me—a need to improve my translation skills and finally decode this document. It isn’t an easy path. I have to learn about old Ge’ez words, which camouflage themselves with entirely different meanings than their obvious translations suggest. And then there are these strange dates.
After painstakingly digging through various sentences, which I’m lucky enough to translate correctly, I suddenly stumble upon Kehan’s full name and birthdate. Curiosity spikes through me, and I decide to recalculate the time difference. How old is she in my terms? Three different books are required until I finally manage to understand the complex Manidian dual-lunar calendar and how it aligns with the Earthly one.
She’s twenty-four years old! Only three years older than me, with me being twenty-one. Of course, she is. She looks young. But, given her size in comparison to me—and, I have to admit, her maturity, which easily surpasses mine—I’d assumed she was much older.
And suddenly, the awkward feeling that’s been hovering over me since our little chat in the woods after the pub visit flares up again. I can’t quite pinpoint it. It’s some kind of nervousness, a restlessness I can’t shake.
The discoveries keep coming as I work through the clause certificate, step by step. In the next passage, the document outlines how Kehan is described as a stable and reliable personality in spite of...—in spite of her being an orphan since the age of fourteen? What the heck! I didn’t know that!
The text goes on to explain how her parents died due to a disease brought in from Earth. A chill runs through me. Searching through the digital library, I find records of a massive pandemic that swept across Gaia. Half of the Manidian population perished. Half. What a disaster.
Perplexed, I fall back in my seat. So, humans were the source of a virus that decimated them. Wouldn’t it just make sense for them to hate me? Yet they don’t. Not here, not them, not her.
Confused, I bury my face in my hands. On Earth, it would be different. Even after ten years, people would still harbor resentment toward foreigners if they were the source of a pandemic. But the Manides? They get infected, they get demonized, they get bombed to the brink of extinction—well, ineffectively, thanks to their shield, but still—and what do they do? They let the aggressive terrestrial global government sell a total victory over them. For peace. Just for peace, and to prevent further loss for all parties.
Oh, I love them. I love—
“Uhm, what are you doing?”
It’s Steve’s voice. Startled, I turn around, and he continues, pointing at me, “Is the content of the document so bad?”
“Uh... uhm, no. Uhm, yes, but because...,” I stutter. He raises his brows.
“Why? How far have you gotten now?”
I take the sheet I’m working on, hold it up under his nose, and point to the last sentence I just translated.
“Oh. Ah,” is all he says.
Then, sheepishly scratching his head, he adds, “Uh, well, if you keep translating, you’ll notice that her discrepancy stasis condition isn’t mentioned. You know, the one that made her freeze?”
“Yes, what about that?”
“Well, uh, she didn’t mention it to the officials because otherwise... Oh, I shouldn’t say that.”
“Oh, I understand.”
“Yeah, just... don’t mention it in the next hearing in front of the court.”
“There’ll be another hearing?”
“Oh, shush! I shouldn’t have said that!”
“What!?”
“Well, it’s not exactly a secret! It’s just... we’re obliged to wait until you translate the clause on your own.”
“You’re obliged not to tell me?”
“Yes, it’s part of the clause. Just... please don’t mention this to the court either!” He mumbles quietly, “I’m so screwed.”
“What...?”
“Wait! Don’t tell Kehan either! She’ll kill me!”
“Oh dear!” I groan.
Steve’s face now really looks like he’s overstepped. I take it in stride because, with all the practice, I’ve become considerably faster at translating. It’ll only take me two more days to finish the remaining sheets. So I add reassuringly, “It’s okay. I won’t say a word.”
“Thanks!”
Relief spreads across his face, and he quickly changes the subject. “By the way, I came here to tell you there’ll be a celebration in five days, in the evening. The shield in the sky is being shut off, and that’s the occasion. I thought you should know—you’re very welcome to join us in the village. There’ll be drinks, music, dancing, and then we’ll watch the shield get turned off. It’s quite a thing to see.”
Surprised, I look at him. He’s completely sincere about it. So I reply, “Oh, thanks. I’ll come. Do you think Kehan will go too?”
“Sure, everybody does. I wanted to tell you particularly because you’re the only human in the village, and I wasn’t sure if you’d feel shy about it.”
“No, it’s good. Your global government handled that well.”
“You think?”
“Better than mine, that’s for sure.”
“Oh dear, you’ve grown on us!”
I shrug my shoulders. “After all, it’s just logical. I’m sorry I believed the lies of my government.”
“It’s okay. We understand.”
He says it in such an incredibly light and easy way that I feel embarrassed. To change the subject, I jump in, “Oh dear, let’s change the topic!”
He grins and pats me on the shoulder. “You’re right! So, see you at the party!”
“Sure, we will!”
And off he goes. Feeling unexpectedly joyful, I turn back to my translation work. The next few days are going to be weird—I can already sense it.