Unnatural Philosophy

Chapter 1 (excerpt)

 

I inserted the knife, delicately parting the trembling exterior of the worm. Its body split under the gentlest of pressure, revealing its delicate inner workings to my questing eyes. Exultation ran up my spine, mastery of the means momentarily eclipsing the end.

I meticulously stripped the worm of its remaining skin and dignity, though not of mystery. Once bared to the world, its innards looked like poorly ground sausage. I sometimes wondered, in those early years, if some trickster spirit was interfering with my investigations. Were the true organs of life snatched away before I could see them? Did the gods hide such secrets from presumptuous mortals?

During less precise dissections, I had learned that the central tube that traversed a worm’s body was mostly filled with moist soil. My focus, that hot summer afternoon, was on the large cream-coloured lumps near the worm’s front end. At the time, I thought they might be the worm’s brain. I would later learn that they were where worms produced their sperm, so I wasn’t that far off.
My focus was such that I didn’t hear my name being called until it was nearly too late.

“…Alexia? Alexia!”

It was Eleni, my caretaker. Right outside.

I was in an abandoned old woodshed a few hundred meters into the forest behind the Delinga Deliveria, my mother’s restaurant. I had the worm pinned to a smooth wooden board with set of pilfered nails. My scalpel, a small pen knife I’d received on winter solstice. My light, a small lantern and a stack of candle stubs. Most valuable of all, a magnifying glass snatched from Dr. Ptolemy’s office. My operating room and my implements. Both of which I had long kept secret from Eleni.

I pulled the nails from the worm and dumped its corpse unceremoniously to the ground before shoving all my tools behind some logs in the corner. No sooner had I finished then Eleni yanked the door open.

“Alexia!”

Eleni was a stocky women, round faced and short of stature. Her cream-coloured skin and light hair stood out in Naditaka, contrasting markedly with the olive skin and dark hair characteristic of most Kyklosian’s. She stared down at me with an expression of both relief and frustration.

“Hi Eli….” I whispered.

“What in Goru’s name are you doing? I’ve been calling you for thirty minutes!”

“Nothing….” I said, shuffling my feet contritely.

She grabbed me roughly and pulled me from the shed, ignoring my piping protests. Picking up a thin branch, she turned me around and dealt three swift strikes to my buttocks, causing me to squeal in pain. Then she folded me in a hug, her voice aching with a bittersweet mix of rage and affection.

“I told you not to go into the woods, Alex, especially not today! We’re hosting the delegates’ dinner, remember?”

The delegates’ dinner had, of course, been quite forgotten.

“Oh Alex, my duckling.” Eleni wiped tears from my face, her expression pleading. “What am I ever going to do with you? This…” she gestured vaguely, “ this has to stop.”

Hot shame flushed through me, only half understood but wholly felt. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll talk about this later. You need to get cleaned up.” She pulled a rag from her apron and began scrubbing at my hands. “Always so dirty….”

The Delinga Deliveria sat on a hill overlooking Naditaka. It blended Alagwayic and Grakial design, with white plaster walls, black trim, and bright yellow window frames. The layout was pure Grakial, with a large central courtyard in the middle. The first floor was primarily dedicated to the kitchens and staff accommodations. The upper floor was reserved for Eli and my mother and I.
The courtyard was bustling with cooks and porters scurrying around like ants. The smell of roasting meat and sizzling garlic perpetually filled the air. They were just putting the final touches on a delivery, loading up a large wicker casket with individually packaged dishes.

“Levi! The delivery to the Kitimat Estate is ready!”

The old deepwalker had been sitting in the shade of the gnarled olive tree at the centre of the courtyard. Pulling off his spectacles he stood and walked to the casket, picking it with a grunt of effort. “Deepwalker outgoing!” He yelled.

I tried to look away, but deepwalking has a particular gravity to it. The world buckled as Levail collapsed into a single bloody point. Too fast to see anything clearly, but too slow to see nothing at all. Then, an invisible and intangible detonation. Nausea and hunger welled up inside me as I was overtaken by the Deepwalkers’ Pall.

A strange phenomenon I’ve encountered a few times in my study of medicine is an inability to recognize faces. For most of us, faces have meaning. They are windows to the soul. There are some, though, who cannot read the language of faces. It is a peculiar form of blindness, to see but not comprehend. This is the best analogy I’ve found to describe the sensation known as the Deepwalker’s Pall, except, instead of faces, you lose the ability to recognize humanity. For but a moment all the people around you become… meaningless. Nothing but meat, devoid of both consciousness and dignity.

I hate being near deepwalks. No one likes being near them, of course, but I’ve always felt that I am particularly sensitive. My life, unfortunately, has conspired to expose me to more than my fair share.

Finally the misaligned cog in my brain fell back into place, and the world regained its metaphorical colour. The bustle of the kitchen around me hardly slowed, so inured were the kitchen staff to the phenomena. Eleni and I stood shuddering for several seconds before she regained her sense of urgency.

“Go, get changed, then meet me in the large dining room.”

“Yes Eli.”

I sprinted up the stairs to my room. It was small but well appointed, with a low-built bed, wash basin, and my collection of cloth dolls and wooden toys. I rinsed my hands, shed my muddy clothes, and pulled on a clean dress.

There were two dining rooms on the upper floor: a small one for our private meals, and a larger one where my mother entertained guests and business associates. It was also technically a venue for rent, though it was made so exclusively by the patronage of the delegates of the Eastern Reach Alliance.

For those unfamiliar with rural politics, most towns in the eastern foothills fall below the ten thousand citizen threshold for parliamentary representation. Instead, they form conglomerates, collectively sponsoring and scrutinizing their chosen representative. That day Naditaka was playing host to delegates from Asimantos and Mahatina, the two other towns that comprised the Eastern Reach Alliance. As always when the Alliance met in Naditaka, they had reserved the Delinga to host the after-party. 

When Eleni and I entered the dining room, most of the guests were still mingling. There about fifty of them, all dressed in their rural finery and engaged in jovial discussion after a long day negotiations and politicking. I only had eyes for one person in the room, however. ‘Mom!” I yelled excitedly, running towards her.

Sona Zhafaria was a severe woman, tall and lean, straight backed and sharp-featured. She was always draped in immaculate dark dresses, not so much fashionable as timelessly aristocratic. Her gaze had a most admirable intensity which I envy to this day: rare was the person who could match her gaze. 

That very gaze settled on me as I ran towards her, emitting severe disapproval. I stopped just short of her, my smile faltering.

“My daughter can be such an excitable thing.” She said demurely to the two guests she’d been speaking with. “Forgive me, I must attend to her.” She pulled me to the side as Eleni arrived.

“I’m sorry, Mistress. She got away from me…”

“Eleni, not only are you late, but you’re letting my daughter run amok. Keep her under control.” My Mother snapped.

“Of course, Mistress, I apologize.”

My mother rubbed her brow. “Sorry, it’s been a long day. I know she’s a handful, just… she needs to behave in front of the guests.”

“We understand. Right Alexia? You’ll be on your best behaviour for the rest of the night?”

My chest ached with shame. I hung my head. “Yes mother.”

“She’s a good girl, mistress. She was just excited to see you. Politics have kept you busy the last few days.”

My Mother sighed. “You are right as always, Eleni.” She knelt and kissed me lightly on the forehead. “You’re representing the Zhafaria’s tonight, Alexia. I need you to be good. This night is important for mama. Do me proud.”

My spirits lifted. “Of course, mama!”

“That’s a good girl. Eleni, please take her to her seat. I need to let Mr. Bogaty know it is time for all the guests to be settled.”

As Eleni guided me to my chair, my mother signaled Mr. Bogaty. He stood from his place at the head of the table, tapping his bowl to draw the room’s attention. A wealthy farmer and the current chairman, Eugene Bogaty was a burly man run only slightly to seed.

“Friends and allies, please be seated. It has been a long day, and it is now time for some well-earned indulgence. For those of you who have not previously been to the Delinga, it is an establishment worthy of Lithia herself. The food prepared here by Zhafaria’s chefs is delivered to the great and good of Kyklos across the Deepwalker’s circle. So let us eat, drink, and revel like satyrs! But first, Vataro, may I ask for you to perform a blessing?”

As the delegates found their seats, the corpulent priest of Goru rose pendulously to his feet. “Of course, Bogaty, of course. Gods above and below, we thank you for this feast before us. Rishma, we thank you for the plants that grow from the earth. Kymos, we are grateful for your rains and temperance. Kalasi, we acknowledge the sacrifice of your beasts. To you and your kin we dedicate this meal.”

He washed his hands in the basin proffered by one of my mother’s slaves on his left, then poured a small dose of wine into the bowl of consecrated earth held on his right. The sacred objects were then carried around the table, each guest performing obeisance in turn. Finally, with the ceremony finished, the food began to emerge.

The fair was extravagant. I was used to good food, but the best was always saved for events such as this. Steaming platters of lentils and beans, small bowls of olives and figs. A whole roast lamb, studded with rosemary and resting on a bed of garlic. Wine, watered to each guests preference. Excluded from the productive conversation surrounding me, I dedicated myself to polite consumption.

“Exquisite as always, Zhafaria!” One of the guests proclaimed from a couple seats down.

“You are too kind, Agestos. Many of these dishes are made with ingredients from your very own farm.”

Agestos smacked his lips. “My farms supply hundreds with food. But none of my other patrons make dishes as exquisite as this. A true value-added product.”

“You flatter me, Agestos.”

“Not as much as you would flatter me if you would accept my invitation to discuss the merits of vertical integration.”

“Oh give it a rest, Agi!” Someone yelled from further down the table. “She isn’t going to ‘integrate’ with you, vertically or otherwise!”

My Mother smiled demurely as laughter rang throughout the room. “As one of my key suppliers and as my longstanding friend, there is always space in my calendar for you Agestos. However, I am not looking to make any major shifts to my business at this time.”

Agestos’ face clouded briefly, then his jovial chortle joined the chorus of general merriment.
Dessert was brought out, fried dough drizzled in honey. Then, dinner was finished. The delegates slowly trickled out, bellies full and spirits well-lubricated.

“Well done.” My nanny whispered. I nodded solemnly, for my mouth was too full of pastry to speak.

My mother strode over. “Eleni, we should talk. Please put Alexia to bed and then join me in my office.”

“Yes, mistress.” 

Eleni led me to my room, still chatting cheerfully about how well behaved I’d been. I nodded distractedly, my mind too filled with curiosity about what Eleni and my mother were going to talk about to pay my minder’s words much heed. After Eleni closed my door I waited till the count of thirty, then crept into the hallway.

When Eleni and my mother were having one of their ‘serious’ talks, they usually met in my mother’s office. Last year, I had discovered that the wall in the adjacent room was sufficiently thin to allow for easy eavesdropping. Having successfully traversed the halls unseen, I slipped into our private shrine.

The shrine was perpetually lit with candles, as befitting our station and wealth. The shrine was dedicated to three gods. The center belonged to Goru, signified by a bowl of sacred earth. On the left was a bowl of water representing Kymos, for few within a hundred kilometers of the ocean dared snub the temperamental sea god. Finally, on the right, a pot of ash for Sysperos, the patron god of my father’s home city. I performed a quick obeisance to each in turn, begging their forgiveness while I shared their space. Then I pressed my ear against the wall. Shortly thereafter, they entered the office.

“Oh gods, Eli, what a day.” My mother said, and I heard the creak of her office chair.
“Did it not go to your liking?”

“No, it worked out well enough. We negotiated a proposal with the mining consortium for our representative to put forward in the next parliamentary session. But some of the delegates can be so tediously long-winded. If Agestos tries to woo me one more time I swear I’m going to scream. Now, speak to me of my daughter. Why were you late?”

“Oh, the poor thing was just having a rough day. She couldn’t sleep last night, she fell in some mud this afternoon…”

“Eleni.” Sona interrupted. “Never have I had a better slave. The thought of your departure in but a few short years saddens me greatly. But I will not tolerate lies. Not even from you.”

There was a long pause.

“She was in a shed in the woods. I believe she was looking at bugs again.”

Another stretch of silence.

“Oh Eleni… what is wrong with that girl?”

My heart dropped.

“Sona… it’s probably just a phase. She is young, and very curious.”

“It’s not just the insects, Eleni. She is strange! She doesn’t spend time with other children. She’s always in the woods, or digging in the dirt, or staring at the clouds. Its embarrassing!”

I felt like I was falling. It is easy to deceive oneself, to make desire reality. I had believed my inquiries discreet, my vivisections clandestine. The wishfulness of my beliefs were laid bare, as was their foolishness. As was my mother’s scorn.

“I’m sure it’s just a phase. Her tutor says he’s never met a child so curious, nor one who learns so quickly as Alexia.”

“But surely she should have grown past this stage by now? She’s almost twelve, Eleni!”

“Maybe she just needs more to occupy her time. An art instructor or the like.”

“See that it is done. We need to reign in her… oddities.”

I slipped from the shrine and fled to my room, my mother’s dismissive words boring into my head like a maggot. I collapsed onto my bed, curling into a ball. I felt like my chest was being crushed, like I couldn’t breath. My thoughts tumbled chaotically, and all I could do was ride the avalanche that was my own mind. Eventually, somehow, I plunged into a figment-ridden sleep.