Gods of Sagittarius – Snippet 13
In addition to these major divisions, innumerable smaller sects and creeds emerged as well. Naccor Jute, the one to which Occo belonged — or had belonged; she still didn’t know if there were any other survivors — was considered outrageously agnostic by all other creeds. Just barely short of outright atheists! For it was the Naccor Jute’s basic proposition that the distinctions between the Old Ones and their destroyers — whom the Naccor Jute simply called the Other Old Ones — were all meaningless. Deific or demonic? All one and the same, from the perspective of the Nac Zhe Anglan, or indeed any sentient but non-divine species.
The conclusion which inexorably followed was that the universe was dominated by chaos and evil but that taking sides in this conflict was the height of irrationality. All that a sane intelligent species could hope for was to stay unnoticed by whatever deific/demonic/it-made-no-difference-beings might still exist while it searched — quite possibly in vain — for some method to destroy the whole lot of supernatural monsters.
Whatever their disputes, however, all Nac Zhe Anglan creeds were agreed on some points of a practical nature. They had forged the Dessetrai Pact centuries earlier and had created the Envacht Lu as the neutral arbiter to enforce its provisions.
The first of those provisions was that no one should do anything to attract the attention of whatever Old Ones or their enemies might still be at large in the universe. The second provision — perhaps assessment would be a more precise term — was that any form of interstellar travel which in any way disturbed or transgressed or contravened or trespassed upon the innate structure of reality was likely to draw such unwanted attention. Thus, the only permissible forms of interstellar travel were either sublight or used the natural fissures produced by the brane intersections.
At the great convocation which produced the Dessetrai Pact, debate and dispute also waged hot and heavy as to whether the provisions of the Pact should be enforced on alien species as well, up to and including the penalty of extermination if violated. In the end, however, the position advanced by the temporary faction known as the Epistemological Inducement prevailed. According to this school of thought, having stupid or irredeemably optimistic aliens around who drew the attention of malevolent supernatural beings was entirely to the advantage of the Nac Zhe Anglan, since it would distract such gods and/or demons from the Nac Zhe Anglan themselves.
The dispute was so intense, however, that it could only be resolved by the adoption of the so-called Gadrax Clause. This permitted individual members of the Nac Zhe Anglan species to withdraw from certain provisions of the Pact, provided they did so by notifying the Envacht Lu and formally registering themselves as having chosen gadrax status. Thereafter, they became outlaws — but outlaws with a recognized and, if you will, quasi-legal status. Any creed which chose to do so was free to liquidate any or all gadrax, with no penalty accruing therefrom. But the Envacht Lu would remain scrupulously neutral in the matter.
The convocation which produced the Dessetrai Pact was attended by observers from several alien species. These included one Human, and groups of Paskapans — at that time known as Jeffratu — and the species which had formerly gone by the name of Wravelli but which adopted the term Vitunpelay given them at the Convocation by the one Human attendee.
The Human observer was a Finnish explorer named Jarkko JÃ¤rvinen, the analog for Humans in the early interstellar era of Magellan or Captain Cook. The term “Paskapan” was a slightly corrupted version of the Finnish term for “shithead” and was universally agreed to be such an apt depiction of the species-formerly-known-as-Jeffratu that it was adopted over time by all other intelligent species. That included, eventually — sometimes grudgingly but more often with swaggering braggadocio — the Jeffratu themselves. JÃ¤rvinen was also the one who bestowed the term Vitunpelay on those who had formerly called themselves the Wravelli. The term Vitunpelay was a corruption of the Finnish term for “fucking clowns.” It says something about the Vitunpelay that they were so charmed by the term that they immediately adopted it themselves, once they learned what it meant.
The Human explorer Jarkko JÃ¤rvinen made no attempt to bestow a new name on the Nac Zhe Anglan, simply satisfying himself with the probably-disrespectful-but-who-cared-what-Humans-thought nickname of “the Knacks.” He left immediately upon the conclusion of the Dessetrai Pact, saying nothing about its results. Some Nac Zhe Anglan did observe, however, that he changed the name on the bow of his huge spacecraft from Sibelius to Been to the Madhouse and Escaped. The title was probably disrespectful but who cared what Humans thought about anything?
The Jeffratu made no public comment. They offered to sell their opinions, Jeffratu being indeed Paskapans. But there were no customers since by then all Nac Zhe Anglan attending the Convocation had come to adopt the term “Paskapan” as well.
As for the Vitunpelay, the only recorded remark made by one of them, upon the conclusion of the Dessetrai Convocation, was: “And they call us fucking clowns?”
The passage through the wormhole that Occo chose in the Tranxegg cluster was uneventful, at least in the sense that she was quite sure her spaceship had gone undetected.
The passage was unpleasant, of course. Gas giants often produced — or gathered; no theorist had yet been able to determine which — clusters of wormholes, so they were quite familiar to Nac Zhe Anglan interstellar travelers. As often as they were used, however, no one enjoyed the experience.
Which was, in a word, turbulent. From a distance, a gas giant planet looks serene and colorful. Up close, the colors shift from peaceful pastels to their true angry hues, and any craft which approaches close enough to use one of the wormholes will inevitably encounter traces of the atmosphere. Even such traces, given the velocities involved, will cause any spacecraft no matter how massive to experience a form of travel that was far more violent than anything usually encountered by interstellar voyagers.
Occo had been through the experience many times, however, so she maintained her stoic demeanor.
Bresk had been through the experience just as many times, but it was a familiar. Stoicism was not one of the creature’s modes of thought. So, it complained constantly and bitterly.
Complaints which Occo, of course, ignored. Being as she was, a stoic.
She did find herself wondering what the famous Human explorer Jarkko JÃ¤rvinen would have called a Nac Zhe Anglan shaman’s familiar, had he ever met one.
Eventually, it occurred to her to ask Bresk itself. The familiar was an endless font of useless information, after all.
“How am I supposed to know?” Bresk demanded. “JÃ¤rvinen spoke Finnish. Do you know what that is? One of the more obscure dialects of a species that produces dialects the way fungi produce spores. Ask me what he would have called me if he spoke one of the common dialects like English or Chinese or Arabic or Spanish. I only know a few hundred words in Finnish.”
A thought occurred to her. “Do you know the Finnish word for ‘fungus’?”
“‘SietÃ¤mÃ¤tÃ¶n,’ I think. No, wait. That might be the word for ‘insufferable’ or ‘unendurable.'”
“That’ll do well enough. Bresk, I hereby rename you SietÃ¤mÃ¤tÃ¶n.”
“You’re not pronouncing it right,” protested the familiar.
Whether she was pronouncing it right or not, Occo eventually decided the new name was too much work so she went back to calling her familiar Bresk. Still, the name-change distracted her enough to make the rest of the transit to the wormhole bearable if not enjoyable.
The passage through the wormhole was very brief, more so than most. They’d only traveled a few light-years to their next wormhole, this one located in the system of a very placid red dwarf.
“Three more to go,” she murmured to herself.