Bennu Station, 170:7 - Slippashep
I caught a ride to Slippashep. Shah agreed to my unplanned vacation with no hesitancy, like he was expecting it. Every interaction I have is just one emotional abstraction weaved into another around a secret core truth, and maybe that seal isn't as tight as I hoped.
The planet is only two days travel, but it wiped me out more than I expected. The captain who allowed my passage, Akkina, was on a supply run to Bennu, and ◚ said that ◚ could use the strange company. It's just what I needed---for once being the specimen scanned furtively by appendages pretending to go about their ship-operating duties. The ship only has a crew of six, and ◙ have all been welcoming, if not a little preoccupied by my "flesh without scales". Akkina finally let on that only the most promiscuous ◛ on Slippashep lift the scales of ◛r manipulator appendages in public. So that's me, the harlot of the Slippashep transport. I've taken to wearing long sleeves.
Time on Bennu follows Core central, but outside the concentrics there is no standardization. I wasn't expecting it, but the day and night rhythms on Slippashep are close to inverted from what Bennu uses. The ◘ don't have dedicated sleep times as far as I have been able to make out, but frequently ◙ have ignored my first attempt at communication and seem slightly dazed when we first start talking, so maybe ◙ get ◙r rest whenever ◙ can throughout the day. So far I'm able to wake when needed, but find myself sleepy just after the sun is at its most intense.
The biggest surprise of the journey was just before docking at the spaceport. "Oh yeah, forgot to mention," Akkina said casually. "Slippashep government requires no foreign microbes." Then he swiped the navcon and the entire interior of the ship was fogged by some chemical that smelled like rotten mangoes and was so thick and grey I couldn't see my hand when I extended my arm. "Don't worry," he said. "It's been extensively tested. No harm at all to ◘ physiology." He sensed my unspoken concern as I alternated between coughing and breathing through my shirt. "Sorry 'bout that," he said, then gave a little laugh, perhaps because it sounded similar to my wheezing. "I'm sure you'll be fine."
It's been a long time since I've been terrestrial. Spiraling down from the spaceport in the little shuttle was one of the most beautiful things I've experienced in years. The city of Kaajo is the transport hub for the western part of the planet, and is located at the tip of a small peninsula on what is technically an inland sea, but it is so big I catachresisally refer to it as the ocean.
The city isn't some grey thumbprint that has been pressed into the surrounding jungle either---its ridges and contours are foliated and fed by a spiderweb network of small canals that can be easily stepped over.
Exiting the landing port was like sliding my sensory levels up to maximum. Square pillars, twice as wide as I am with outstretched arms held a slightly convex roof high enough to permit tow of ships like Akkina's before they are heaved from the planet out of gravity's reach. It was raining when we arrived, and waterfalls rivaling poorer examples I've seen from nature poured from two edges of the roof, splashing onto huge catchment trays and leaving the arched entrance completely dry.
So used to temperature and humidity control for the last decades, my body became a damp refuge for the local flying insects to alight upon. Akkina said they're not dangerous, but did seem slightly concerned at how rapidly my neck became covered in small welts. Like myself, the bugs seemed weighed down by the air, which didn't become cooler exactly when a limp breeze occasionally swirled, but did bring new smells that had previously been trapped within the nearby food stalls, or the mechanical bay that kept its bay door permanently half-open. Cooked meats and spices; hydraulic fluids and caustic fumes.
I had forgotten how densely populated some places could be, and seeing the tight press of bodies and intertwined appendages made me realize how much I missed the vibrancy of a large city. Bennu is great, but some experiences cannot be scaled down to a station. It made me miss the Core, though I would never admit it. Seeing small ◘ run to wrap ◛r limbs around a long absent parent, and the intertwined embraces of reunited lovers in the landing bay undoubtedly amplified these feelings.
I'm only here for a week. Shah may have encouraged the trip, but he needs me back for the next wave of Core deliveries. I'm excited to see how the city unfolds, but right now I need some sleep.