Regi's Goddess, chapter 13 (Patreon)

“We must be watchful as we navigate this area,” Regi said.

Dante eyed the thinning trees with suspicion. This part of the planet resembled a literal walk in the park compared to climbing over flood-tossed boulders, but he assumed Regi would not have made that comment without some reason. “Why?”

“We are soon to reach the travelway for the cold weather temple.”

Dante detoured around an arch of exposed tree roots higher than his hip as he tried to mentally decipher that statement, but it didn’t make sense, even when Dante tried to think his way around the awkward phrases that the translator preferred. “What does that mean?”

Regi had taken lead, and he turned to face Dante. “Each of the three temples is connected to undeveloped territory to allow sacred animals free movement.”

“Like parklands? Or is the land allowed to grow wild?” Dante appreciated untouched wilderness in theory, but in practice, that seemed to be a rather significant forest fire danger. Enormous trees towered overhead, blotting out the sun so only dappled patches of sunlight could penetrate when the wind stirred the leaves. If a fire started here, the land would turn into an apocalyptic inferno.

“It is generally untouched, but the trees will thin when we reach the actual passageway. It is the path animals will take if they are called by the gods to serve at the temple. Because there are so many animals walking along one path, the trees and foliage become thin.”

Dante finally understood what Regi was saying. “The cold season temple has the most dangerous animals. Does that mean were about to come along a game trail with the most dangerous animals on your planet?” Dante greatly questioned Alb’s motives if she was sending them into that kind of danger.

Regi held his hand down low before curling all six digits into a fist that he brought up to touch his temples. It was clearly a religious gesture, and Regi performed it with the same reverence Dante’s grandmother had used when handling her rosery. “The danger is far less for someone who is god touched, and even less for an exalted. The animals will sense that the gods have given us their favor, so any animal that is favored by the gods will recognize our right to be on this path.”

That sounded suspiciously like Regi accepted that Dante was one of the exalteds. “I thought your people didn't believe the gods saw outsiders.” And if that was the case, Alb had put Dante in the path of some mighty dangerous animals.

Alb, Sibja, and I agree that Divashi favors you. If anything, you are more in her favor since you cared for the dops when no one else did.” Regi gaze shifted to Peaches who surveyed her domain from atop Dante's shoulder.

Dante reached up and stroked the tender spot under her chin, and pleasure made her trill. “Okay, but if we are both touched by the gods and safe from sacred animals, why would this be dangerous?”

Regi leaned against a tree whose peeling white bark reminded Dante of a birch. “If Divashi touches a dop, it will move towards the temple. However, that dop’s mate or offspring may follow without ever enjoying the goddess’s touch.”

Dante got it. “Even if a god-touched animal isn't dangerous, one of the others that come along with it could still kill us.” Dante began walking again. He was exhausted, but standing around did not move them toward their goal and the rescue coming to meet them. Regi hurried to get out in front. He had a charming overprotective streak.

“Precisely. It is highly unlikely, and one of the gods would likely notice if creatures were contemplating evisceration, but one should never rely on the gods. They are great beings who must oversee grand works on a universal scale. It is entirely too easy for one who relies on the gods to suffer a cataclysmic accident while the gods have their gaze focused elsewhere. If the gods were able to watch all Kowri at all times, there would be no crime. And I assure you, my people do commit crimes.”

“I think Siger proved that. I'm really looking forward to punching him in the mouth.” Dante engaged in some creative visualization of Siger’s face twisted with shock right before Dante’s fist hit it. Dante’s old therapist would be proud of his ability to imagine the future he wanted. That hadn’t been a skill he excelled at as a kid.

Regi puckered, an expression that Dante had learned to associate with grave concern. Punching a local would likely cause problems, but Dante resented that asshole’s murder plot. However, Regi was clearly uncomfortable with Dante’s more bloodthirsty tendencies, so Dante changed the subject.

“You mentioned mothers’ years and temple years, but you said something about having fathers’ years in the middle, and you never explained what those were. You don't talk much about your fathers at all.” Only after the words had escaped his mouth did it occur to Dante that this might be a sensitive subject. After all, he never liked talking about his mother. Her death had wounded him in ways that he had struggled to even survive. Dante had never admitted it to anyone, but he had once stolen a bottle of his grandmother's pills in hopes of escaping the pain. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he had taken a massive dose of laxatives. His grandmother had always assumed that one of the kids at school who teased him had played some practical joke that got out of hand. Dante had never disabused her of that assumption. “If you don't want to talk at your father's, that's fine,” he added.

“I am happy to speak of my fathers. I had a far better relationship with them then with my mother.” Regi detoured around a huge stump with a jagged top that smelled of wood rot. “Fathers’ years are when a young Kowri goes to work with a parent of his choice. Most Kowri choose to attend the workplace of one of their fathers because leaving your mother's side is seen as a rite of passage. Fathers’ years are the first chance a Kowri has to make educational choices and to start exploring the world outside of the mother's sphere of influence.”

“But Kowri could stay with their mothers during their father years?” If so, that seemed like an inaccurate name.

“They could if they wished to, but most take at least a year or two to explore other careers. I sought to leave my mother as soon as I could. I often found myself relegated to a corner while she tended a difficult pregnancy, so I chose to go with my da-father the day I began my second set of years.”

Dante was starting to get a picture of neglect and emotional abuse from Regi’s stories. Maybe that was wrong—maybe he was projecting his own abandonment issues onto Regi’s life—but if he ever met Regi’s mother, he was going to have a few things to say to that woman. No one should care more about their goddess than their five-year-old child. “What was your father like?”

“Pertin a'Qis,” Regi said in a fond voice.

“Pertin.” Dante rolled the unfamiliar syllables around in his mouth. “Is Qis his goddess?”

“Qis is the god of old-growth forests and secrets.” Regi paused and looked about. The trees had started to thin enough that sunlight made a patchwork quilt out of the ground; however, huge trees still dominated the land. “He watches places like this. I spent my first year sanding pieces of wood in Pertin’s shop. He is a carver and very respected for his ability to find the shapes inside the wood.”

“I guess I hadn’t thought of an advanced space-race appreciating wood carving. My grandfather had a shop set up in a shed behind their house. I used to hear his saw running in the morning when I stayed with them over summer. He died not long after I started going to school.”

“I am sorry.”

Dante shrugged. “So what was life like working with Pertin?”

“He found beauty in every piece of wood. When I started going to work with him, he had this huge project—a totem of the growing season sacred animals carved from one piece of wood larger than a Alb’s house. It was so impressive.” Regi stopped walking, and for a second, he stared into space. Then he shook his head and gave Dante a crooked smile before he took lead again. “I always thought it was unfair that over and over again he would have to abandon his projects because my mother would get some goddess-inspired urge to travel.”

“Your gods make life difficult.”

“That is true.” Regi was silent for a time. The only sound was the crunch of leaves under their feet as they walked. Eventually he said, “Life was far easier for my di-father, Rel a'Mufvu. His work involves programming, and he specializes in personal networks and small-scale communications systems. As long as he had a computer, he could do his work from anywhere.”

“That would make travel easier,” Dante agreed.

“I worked with Pertin first, but I spent most of my fathers’ years with Rel. He taught me about computer searches and network logic.” Regi grimaced. “I had once thought to train to better understand the Gavd ships I planned to serve on, but the universe rarely listens to the plans a child makes for his own future. Luckily, it turns out that computer logic transfers from one culture to another. When I went to the Academy to serve in the Coalition's military, my years with Rel helped me understand the nuance of computer networks from a Coalition standpoint.”

Dante did a bit of mental math and figured that Regi must've been seven or eight when he was working on computer programming. It did seem a little backwards to teach a kid advanced programming when reading and writing weren't fully developed, but given how schools worked on earth, Dante was loath to criticize anyone else. Texas had decided that privatizing as many of the government functions as possible was the best way to avoid Supreme Court decisions that had given legal rights to an ever-expanding group of citizens. So Texas had become a strange patchwork of private and parochial schools all using government vouchers to take public money into the private realm where discrimination could thrive. Compared to Earth, Regi's people sounded downright sane. Mostly. Siger did sour Dante on the Kowri just a bit.

“What if a child doesn't like any of the careers of his parents? Trust me, I had no interest in anything my parents did. And even if I wanted to grow up and be a lawyer—which I didn’t—my father’s law firm was no place for a child. He worked criminal defense cases, and kids don’t need to hear those sorts of details.” Dante shivered in horror at the thought.

“Children are often shown a limited scope of a parent’s work. However, if a child shows proficiency in an area outside the parents’ areas of expertise, family members will offer to take the child during their fathers’ years.”

“So it is really an early-outreach internship rather than years that belong solely to the fathers.”

“Very little of that translated, but from the tone and limited understanding I have of your words, I would agree,” Regi said.

Silence gathered between them, and Dante was slapping away some insects when he asked, “What if a parent is just a horrible influence? What if a parent puts their kids in a position where they're exposed to dangerous equipment or they're asked to do dangerous work?”

Regi's ears dipped. “I will not lie. It does happen. Gavd ships must investigate accusations of that sort more often than is appropriate for species that claims to serve the gods. When such happens, a child might be given to someone else to supervise for their fathers’ years or they may be moved to another family.” Regi hesitated, and Dante nearly walked into his back because he was distracted by a swarm of gnats or gnat-like flying pests. Dante put his hands on Regi’s shoulders to prevent a collision.

Regi turned to study him. “I try to avoid difficult discussions of my people's shortcomings with others from the Coalition.” Given that the other crew members had a negative view of Kowri, Dante could understand that.

“I don't plan on telling them anything. Hell, Ter seems to think he knows everything already, so what's the point of even trying to talk to him?” Dante grinned at Regi.

Regi brayed a laugh. The explosives sound resembled a donkey’s alarm call more than laughter, but Dante was growing use to it. “I should tell Ter that you said as much.” He started walking again.

“He doesn't listen to you either, so he'll probably just nod his head while you talk, and the whole time he'll be focusing on his computer. So, feel free.”

“You show great insight, especially given that the translator has such limited function when it comes to your language.”

Dante shrugged even though Regi couldn't see the gesture with his back turned. “Because I didn't know the words, I started looking at people's body language the way I would watch a skittish horse. People communicate a lot of what they're thinking through their bodies.”

Regi glanced over his shoulder, studying Dante before saying, “I had never considered applying the skills of an animal tender to sapient species. You are an impressive person Dante a’Texas.”

“Now don't go telling people that. I don't want to have to live up to their expectations.”

“One of the most dangerous goddesses of the universe watches you. I promise you that she expects you to live up to her expectations.”

Dante winced. “That does not make me feel better.”

“As I said, you are a wise man. Children dream of being exalted, but adult Kowri understand that when the gods provide the twin blessings, they always provide more of the first than the second.”

Dante understood that. And it seemed like Regi was right that they were far more interested in creating chaos and inspiring disasters than in opening up opportunities. “Have you considered telling them to knock it off?”

“And who would tell a god that she had to change how she interacted with her subjects?”

“I would.” Dante looked up at the thinning canopy of leaves overhead. “Divashi, you gotta stop shoving us face first into problems.”

Regi's ears went all the way back and he spun around to consider Dante with wide eyes.

“What?” Dante asked with exaggerated innocence.

“You are a menace,” Regi said.

Dante grinned. “You say the sweetest things.” Dante was about to launch into an irreverent condemnation of Divashi’s habit of meddling like the bored church ladies who had retired and had nothing better to do than pry into everyone else’s business, but a chunk of tree next to Dante’s head exploded into splinters. Dante stared at the giant wound opened into the tree’s trunk for the half second it took Regi to tackle him to the ground.

“Incoming weapons fire!” Regi called out as though he had a platoon of soldiers ready to return fire. Unfortunately, their only back up were trees. Another loud pop preceded a lower branch crashing down near them.

Regi pulled Dante behind the arched roots of the closest tree. “What the hell is that?” Dante demanded. He was hoping Regi would come up with some bizarre alien explanation like ball lightning.

“That the hell is someone trying to kill us,” Regi said solemnly.

Well, shit.