Episode 79
Travelling Light E079S02 Transcript
H.R. Owen
Hello friends, Hero here, with the second to last episode of Season Two! We’ll be celebrating the end of the season with a Q&A, so end in your questions for me or co-creator and artist Matt through the website, on social media or by email.
Also, our new show The Lion and the Adder released its first minisode this week. Subscribe to The Lion and the Adder wherever you listen, and visit monstrousproductions.org/fundraising to support the show.
[Title music: rhythmic electronic folk.]
H.R. Owen
Travelling Light: Episode Seventy Nine.
[The music fades out.]
The Traveller
18th Nisa 851
To the community at Emerraine, who carry the Light.
My last missive included an entry concerning a recent bout of illness which befell me on Drunvhitur. It was not serious, but I was fairly wiped out for a couple of days. I am still recovering, in fact.
Scarry stayed by my bedside when he could, reading or bringing me tea and what food I could stomach. He even stripped my bed for me and changed the sheets for fresh ones while I sat shivering and snotty in an armchair.
He was out on business on the third day, when I finally felt well enough to get up and dress. He had left a jumper behind him, and when I pulled it on, it came almost to my knees in a swathe of familiar-smelling comfort.
I planned to go to the comms office and send the letters I wrote before I fell ill. But I could not find them. I am not in the habit of keeping my desk especially tidy. But that morning, its surface was clear.
My writing tools had been neatly set into their holders as I never put them, and the ornaments had all been straightened. The papers were nowhere to be seen.
“You’re up!” came a voice behind me. Scarry leant against the door-frame looking relaxed and rumpled in his shirtsleeves. He nodded at the jumper I was wearing. “Up and cosy, I see.”
“Sorry. It was just on the chair. I was going to go to the comms office, but uh…”
“Oh, I put your letters in the drawer,” he said easily. “I was restless, I tidied up a bit while you were sleeping. Is that alright? I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“No. No, it is fine.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t read them, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I did not say you did!”
“Aye, all but. I’m not a nosy wee hallion, unlike some people.”
I smiled, stepping towards him. “I know. And thank you, for looking after me.”
He brushed a piece of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “You’re making a habit of being laid up. There are easier ways to get me to spend the night in your cabin, you know.”
“You never spend the night in here,” I protested.
“Oh, can you blame me? Your bunk’s the size of a shoebox!”
I was not going to argue, despite the shoebox situation being entirely of his own making. I took his hand, enjoying the way his fingers enveloped mine. My mind was on my letters and the decision I had made after meeting Óli’s parents.
“We need to talk.”
“That sounds serious. Should I be sitting down?”
“Maybe.”
He registered the tone in my voice and carefully pulled out the chair by the desk. Standing as I was, I felt as if I were back at school, reciting a poem we had learnt or making a presentation.
There was nothing for it. I must just say it.
“I want to go back to Kerrin. I-I think I have to. I need to, uh…”
“To see Óli,” he finished. I did not answer. Just stood, fiddling with the hem of my- his jumper. “You’ll have to tell Masha your leaving date,” he said after a moment. “She’ll get your pay in order. We can drop you at Albothi Station. You can make your own way-”
“Scarry. Please. Can we just talk? I-I want to know how you feel about this.”
“Why?”
I was taken aback. “Because I care about you.”
He looked at me, sincere confusion and a note of hurt in his eyes. “Do you?”
Someone knocked at the door. Scarry stood, reaching past me to open it. Resimus looked between us, the frills on their neck flaring nervously.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“Yes,” I said, just as Scarry said, “No.! He was already on his way out and turned to say over his shoulder, “Leave the jumper in my room when you’re done.” Then he stepped past Resimus and left.
“Is everything alright?”
[sighing] “Not really. Um. What do you want?”
“Oh. Oh, yes. Um. The thing is, well. I have this alert set up – uh, just a simple thing really, uh, designed to let me know if, uh. Well. If Tsabec’s university gets mentioned on the local directory anywhere we’re visiting.
“I-It’s nothing serious,” they rushed to clarify, misinterpreting my confusion for judgement. “It’s just, well. If they do happen to be around, I’d like to know, in case we might spend some time together.”
“Are you not in touch with them?”
Their frills flooded with colour. [laughing] “Oh, no. No, I’d never tie them down like that. Tsabec’s a free spirit, you know. They blow into your life and you just have to hold on and make the most of it. Like a sexual hurricane.”
“And I am assuming you got an alert?” I said, before they went any further.
“Oh, yes! Oh, I get them quite often. Usually it’s just a research announcements or staffing news. But this, uh. Well. I thought you’d like to see?”
It was an announcement of a public lecture – the latest stop in a lecture tour being held by the lead researcher studying the medical properties of the rare plant, the Amalas toccanas. Annaliese smiled out at me from the listing.
I know ours is not a faith with an idea of God as person who acts and moves in the world. But in that moment, I really felt I had been given a gift from the universe – a friend to talk to just when I needed one most.
We met at her hotel. It had a tea room, a glass-roofed space full of plants and sunlight that was so perfectly Annaliese. I spotted her sitting at a table, and could not, did not wish to stop a huge smile from breaking over my face.
“This is fancy!” I said when I got close. “You have gone up in the world.”
She threw out her arms, her grin matching mine. “There you are! Come here, come here, come here!”
She pulled me into a hug and planted a fierce kiss on my cheek. Then she held me at arms length and looked me up and down with a sceptical expression.
[tutting] “Oh, you couldn’t have at least worn a clean boilersuit?” she tutted. “And those boots! People will think I’m holding a charity dinner for impoverished artists.”
“I did not know it was a formal event! I just came to have tea with my friend.”
“I suppose you’ll do. You’re right about one thing: I have gone up in the world.”
She explained what a whirlwind her professional life has been since the Tola returned to the university.
Our discovery of the Amalas toccanas on the RSV Orielle has kickstarted a whole new phase in her career. Her research findings are publicly available, but she is making a mint from speaking engagements all over the galaxy.
“I have appearance fee, can you imagine! [laughs] This tour paid for the new chair.”
She gave a spin in her hover chair, far prettier than her old one. “Very swish,” I said admiringly. “Does it have any new features?”
“Rocket thrusters,” she said, so deadpan I am not entirely sure she was joking. “I’d show you, but I don’t want to disturb the other guests.”
[laughing] “Oh, I have missed you.”
She turned on me. “Yes, I’ve missed you too. Do you remember promising to write to me?”
“Oh. Uh. Now you mention it…”
“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve been moving around a lot. And I expect you and Óli have had plenty on your plate, exploring the galaxy! Where are they, anyway?”
My heart gave a little jump. “Uh. On Kerrin?”
“What are they doing there?”
“Archaeology?”
She did not find this amusing. “What happened?! When we left, you two seemed a sure thing. Don’t tell me you’ve been travelling alone all this time!”
“No. No, um. I have been on the Guillemot. With Scarry and his crew. That is how I came to be in Tilfar. We were returning Óli’s cloak to their parents.”
I told her everything. About the way I left Clanagh, and how dreadful I feel about. About my journey thus far, and meeting Óli’s parents. My decision to go back to Kerrin. And about Scarry and that whole thing.
When I finished, Annaliese regarded me. She gestured to a passing waiter.
“Could we get some more tea, please? And a selection of buns? Whatever your favourites are. I think we’re going to be here for a while.”
“Can I some crumpets?” I asked.
[scoffing] “I don’t think you deserve them, frankly! What are playing at, swanning about the galaxy trampling on people’s hearts?”
“I am not trampling! Stumbling, maybe. But it is accidental.”
“Accidental pain is still pain,” she pointed out, in a tone that reminded me very much of our dear Arhian and her unwavering commitment to plain truth.
I slumped in my chair. “I feel like I cannot do right by one without hurting the other. And neither are exactly forthcoming with their own feelings.”
Annaliese looked unconvinced. “Óli, I’ll grant you, never struck me as someone to wear their heart on their fabulous sleeve. But from you’ve said, Scarry’s been quite clear.”
“Clear?! If I so much as mention talking about-”
“Not everyone talks as much as you!” She rested her elbows on the table between us. “When Duytren and I first started sleeping together-”
“Wait, what?”
[laughing] “My goodness! You really don’t notice anything that isn’t about you, do you? No, don’t pull that face. I mean it with love.
“But yes, when we started, I told her I understood she didn’t want a relationship, this was purely physical, I said all the right things. And then I went and behaved exactly as if she were a romantic partner.
“It hurt her, quite badly. We’ve worked it out now, and I count myself very lucky she trusted me enough to try. But my point is, people say all sorts of things. Behaviour is what counts. That’s your evidence, not whatever they say – or don’t.”
I picked at the crumbs on my plate. “By that light, Óli has shown me almost nothing.”
“Yes, well. From what you’ve said of their family, Óli is a special case. You can’t expect someone with parents like that to go at the world in the same fashion as someone raised by people who love them properly.”
I winced. “Oh, that hurts to think about.”
She reached over the table and took my hand, squeezing it. “Sorry. I just don’t want you stumbling about any more. You all deserve better. Well, I’m not sure Scarry does. But if you’ve got your heart set on him-”
“My heart is not set on anything!” But Annaliese was having none of it.
[laughing] “Oh, that is not your problem, my dear. Your problem is that big heart of yours is set on absolutely everything. You want it all! The whole galaxy if you can get it. And maybe you can get it. But not like this.”
She is not wrong. There is a great deal I want.
“I am sick of hurting people,” I complained, sounding petulant even to my own ears. “I do not mean to do it. But I keep messing up.”
“Oh, my dear. I know. And you’ll mess up again. But you can make it right. It’s just going to take a bit of work and effort. Oh, come on. Let us be cheerful! Did you hear about Hesje?!”
I let her change the subject and we spent a wonderful day together, talking and laughing and ordering plate after plate of cream cakes and sticky buns. My teeth were fuzzy with sugar when she had to leave to prepare for her lecture.
“When are you heading back to Kerrin?” she asked as we wandered out to the hotel foyer.
“I have not made any real plans yet,” I admitted. Annaliese looked thoughtful.
“Why not come along with me? I can’t bring you the whole way, of course, but I’ve got a few stops left on the speaking tour and I’d love the company.”
I told her I would think about it. She is leaving in a week – not much time to say my goodbyes. Perhaps I would be better to head back into the galaxy alone, but without having to rush my departure. Then again, the thought of Annaliese’s company is… very tempting.
Regardless, I will clear the air with Scarry before I go. If I cannot stop stumbling, I must at least make amends, if I can.
[sighs] I am pleased I had chance to meet with Annaliese. I have missed her. And I am glad to see her so well, and so happy.
But this business of being honest about my feelings and failings, this [mockingly] ‘taking responsibility for the impact of my life on others’ – it is bloody hard work! [laughs and sighs] I almost wish I could do without it, and just go on stumbling in blissful ignorance.
Oh, friends. Pray for me. Light knows I need all the help I can get.
[The sound of the data stick whirring fades in, cutting out when the data stick is removed with a click.]
The Traveller
Entry NI85118-1. An interview with a botanical conservationist in Palkka.
Key words: flora and fauna; interview; natural world; Palkka; scientific research.
Notes:
The Guillemot did not spend long in the city of Palkka. It was an all but unplanned stop. The captain secured a short-haul freight contract from Drunvhitur to make it worth the crew’s while, but the trip was undertaken mostly to help me connect with a friend of mine.
My friend was on an interplanetary lecture tour and would have no chance to speak to me after her event. So we met beforehand and spent a very pleasant afternoon together. When she went to prepare for the lecture, I took myself off for a walk in the city.
Palkka is known as the Garden City; it boasts more square footage of green space per capita than any other city in the province.
As well as municipal parks and gardens, private property is adorned with foliage and flowering plants, spilling from window boxes and capping the buildings in roof gardens like madcap toupees.
My feet took me in time to a quieter quarter of the city. Small blocks of flats lined the streets, each set with a surrounding garden for the residents’ enjoyment.
As I was walking, I came across a figure in one of the gardens. They were entirely wrapped in a heavy canvas suit that looked a bit like an exo suit. It had bulky, shapeless extrusions for each limb, and a hood that covered the head entirely.
I freely admit, I stared – and got quite a jump when the figure turned to look directly at me. I was expecting a face, or a faceplate perhaps. But there was nothing – a void where a face ought to have been…!
No. No, it was a faceplate, in a material much the same colour as the rest of the suit, though looked like woven reeds rather than canvas. They lumbered over to the low fence ran around the garden’s perimeter.
[muffled] “What do you want?”
“What do I want? Nothing in particular. I was just looking at your outfit.”
[muffled] “My outfit?”
“Yes. I have never seen anything like it.”
Their posture shifted as they stuck out their chest with evident pride. [muffled] “I made it! One of a kind!”
“One and a…? Oh! O-One of a kind? Because you made it, I see! Fantastic! Oh, yes, I see. Oven gloves, are they? That is a lot of tape, sticking them on. W-what is it for?”
[muffled speech]
“Pardon?”
[muffled speech]
I will spare you the full account of this portion of the conversation. Between their mask, my translator and the fact I had almost no context whatsoever from which to infer their meaning, it took a long time for me to understand that they were saying, ‘Gumbly plum pollen.’
For the sake of time and clarity I will summarise. The gumbly plum is a type of tree native to this region. Unfortunately, it has been driven to near extinction due to a virulent fungus.
[muffled] “I do conservation work,” my interlocutor explained. [muffled] “I’m researching treatment methods.”
“You are researching treatment methods? I-Is that to help trees that have been afflicted?” They nodded, their suit requiring the gesture to use their entire body to do so. “Is there no way to breed trees that are resistant?”
They shook their head, and torso, arms flopping loosely at their sides. [muffled] “The fungus targets vital amino acids.”
“The- The fungus targets… what?”
[muffled] “Amino acids. Amino aci-!”
“Amino acids!” I shouted, like a contestant in a quiz. The conservationist did a little cheer and threw up their hands as best they could in celebration.
They explained that the fungus targets key amino acids within the tree, without which the tree is unable to process the nutrients they need to survive. The acids are so foundational to the plant, there is no real way to breed resistance without creating an entirely new species altogether.
Instead, conservation focuses on way to kill the fungus without harming the tree.
“Is it very dangerous?” They looked as nonplussed as a person can, covered in a huge canvas sack. “I-Is the fungus harmful to your species, I mean? Or the chemicals you are using in your research? Why are you wearing the suit?”
[muffled] “Oh! I’m allergic!”
“You’re allergic? To the tree?”
They nodded. [muffled] “One touch would kill me!”
“One-? One touch would kill you. Right. You seem very cheerful about it!”
They threw their arms in a full-body shrug. [muffled] “Got my suit!”
We talked a while longer but the conversation had already taken quite a long time and I was in real danger of being late to my friend’s lecture. I made to say goodbye, but not before asking them permission to include them in our archive.
“What name should I put to it?” I said, realising I had forgotten to ask.
[muffled speech]
“Pardon?”
[more emphatic muffled speech]
I stared for a moment down the path of trying to navigate an entirely alien language through a mask, and a translator, with no idea what form names even take in this language.
“Got it!” I lied. “Thank you so much for your time. I shall leave you to work.”
They waved a thickly-mittened hand, and wished me a cheerful farewell. Probably.
[Title music: rhythmic instrumental folk. It plays throughout the closing credits.]
H.R. Owen
Travelling Light was created by H.R. Owen and Matt McDyre, and is a Monstrous Productions podcast. This episode was written and performed by H.R. Owen.
This week’s entry to the archives was based on an idea by Ash. You can see Matt's illustration for the entry on our social media accounts.
If you've got an idea for the archive, we want to hear it. We’re keeping the inbox open so send in your ideas for Season 3 through our website, by email, or on social media. For more information, see the show notes.
This episode includes an audience decision. Should the Traveller start back to Kerrin sooner, and in Annaliese’s company, or later, and travel alone? Vote by making a donation at ko-fi.com/monstrousproductions.
Our tiers start at £1 a month, with all supporters getting access to bonus art, annotated scripts, weekly blogs, and an invitation to the Monstrous Productions Discord server.
This podcast is distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. The theme tune is by Vinca.
[Fade to silence.]
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