Chapter 6: Plumb Tuckered Out

The orange star was out over the sands of Denji’Kei. Standing not far from one of the nearby Ote’wans was the cowboy, Darin, familiarly dressed in his outfit. The vast landscape showed the hint of heat flurries as the light and temperatures radiated together. It didn’t remain too hot, but just enough to encourage sweat in the humans working outside.

To the north were a series of sloping hillsides. The desert waste, hard sand, and a few savannah grasses perforated the area where Darin stood. It served as little more than the edge to nowhere. However, Darin wasn’t alone in his spot. Other Itreans, denizens from Jiqua’nyu, were busy, each focusing their attention on their own Ote’wan. Each Ote’wan was like a tree, shifting out of the sands to give the town what it desperately needed the most. Swi’ya was not far from Darin. Still dressed in her outfit, she was busy tinkering with the device, pressing a metal pail next to the spigot of the tall device as water began to fill it. The process was slow, perhaps too slow. Her knee was pressed to the dirt as her clawed feet lay exposed to the open elements.

“How many Ote’wan do you have?” Darin asked Swi’ya, his hard country western accent remaining.

“Many...,” Swi’ya said, her butchered English can be heard. “More Ote’wan, more water.”

“How much water?”

She didn’t know how to answer that question. Instead, she pointed to the pail. “One per day each. The rest Ote’wan needs to survive...”

Darin walked over to press his hand against the device. “I forgot that you, Itreans, use living devices, both organic and machine. Do other worlds like Denji’Kei use these Ote’wans?”

Swi’ya did her best. She seemed to think for a while, doing her best to translate the man’s words and talk back.

“Ote’wans are cheap...,” she said. “Make many. Don’t know other worlds ... no care...”

“Hmmm, well, I can tell this one is taking twenty minutes of your time just to fill this.”

“Old ... Ote’wans break ... cheap ... cheap and break ... need to replace.”

“I don’t know about that,” the man remarked. “Depending on how these things work, anything can keep going if you show it some love.”

“I no understand, Darin...”

“I hear ya. It’s alright. Your English is pretty good.”

“Not like Feri’nita. Her Engrish is ... very good.”

“It took her some time, but she was ready for it. I tried with Itrean, but your language ... it can leave a man-a-hangin.”

Swi’ya made a series of light chirps, her small body trembling at times. Darin could see that she was giggling for a moment.

“Engrish is ... easier ... but funny. The word... ‘innocent?’ Yes, innocent ... but you ... you talk different.”

“Where I come from...,” the man answered. “Some people from Texas speak like me, but it depends on how much they like their culture...”

She didn’t seem to completely understand what he said, but did her quick nods anyway.

“Denji’Nok speak with different voice only on Denji’Kei. Working with Ko’min, you hear it ... every voice ... outside or no...” She sighed, her nostrils flared as her arms grew tired. Eventually, she practically slapped the side of the Ote’wan in frustration, producing a metallic thunk sound in the process.

“Let me take a look...,” Darin remarked, stepping up next to Swi’ya.

“You know nothing about Ote’wan, human,” Swi’ya said, her voice carrying a hint of harshness to it.

“I figured you were going to say that.” The man practically ignored her as he stepped up close to analyze the device.

The Ote’wan devices were like typical moisture vaporators, but with a hint of complexity. Parts of it showed organic-looking components, protrusions impaled into the dirt to hold it up. In a sense, they were almost alive, being similar to actual trees, but artificially designed for mechanical operation. However, in its organic components was a strong hint of actual parts, completely mechanical, without any organic resin, bark, or other natural-appearing fixtures. There was a panel that the man could access.

“No touch...,” she said. “No break...”

“I beg to differ,” Darin commented. “What seems to be the problem, miss?”

She couldn’t move the metal pail, knowing that every drop of water couldn’t be wasted. Instead, she watched as Darin took his finger and pulled the panel open. It was so old that the hinges almost broke off under the light force applied to it. However, inside the access panel was a series of circuits, diodes, and other components that the man was more familiar with. There were even a couple of valves as well. Swi’ya looked up at the panel.

“Water drain slow,” she remarked. “So slow...”

“I can tell,” he explained. “We’re like cowpokes trying to figure out how to put a wheel on a wagon for the first time ... I don’t expect you to understand that, but it still applies. How much you work with Ote’wans?”

“Some ... not great. Others better...”

“Your problem is that these vaporators are meant to work a little faster. I can tell that everyone else is moving lickety-split. Either ours needs a little tender loving care, or we’re failing upwards.” He pointed to one of the valves. “What’s this for?”

“Uh...,” she tried to think of the words, carrying several clicks in her voice. “More water or less...”

“Alright...,” Darin reached forward and turned the valve. The results were slow, but eventually, there was the sound of air escaping inside the pipe that was releasing water into Swi’ya’s pail.

“ ... Old...,” she said. “Need new one...”

“ ... If it’s one thing that I learned, is that nothin is never too old...”

Darin closed the valve before he fished into his pocket and pulled out a small wrench-like tool. He looked at and then at Swi’ya’s pail, noticing a hint of dirt in it.

“I reckon the Ote’wan’s filter is clogged,” Darin remarked. He took the wrench and looked at something that was below the panel. It had a square bolt that was in place. The cowboy took his tool, which had a circular head to it, and placed it over the square bolt before pressing a button. A blue glow could be seen on the head of the wrench mended to the head of the bolt. With a button release, the wrench hardened, allowing Darin to start turning the bolt.

“Tool?” she commented.

“A man doesn’t become head of a tool company unless he knows the tools he intends to sell ... This nut looks like it’s connected to the main housing for the pipes underneath it.”

“ ... Yes?” Swi’ya seemed unsure.

It didn’t take long before Darin unscrewed and removed the bolt, placing it into Swi’ya’s hand. A small tray came loose before the cowboy pulled out what looked like a hard, organic net that was reminiscent of a sponge. It was covered in gunk and mud.

“Yep,” Darin said. “Muddier than a clogged hen house. Your filter needs to be replaced.”

The man showed it to Swi’ya as she inspected the damage.

“Oh no,” she said as her feathers lowered down. “Sas’ClickClick Naf ... what’s the word? Parasites? Yes ... they got in the Ote’wan.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” he replied.

“No ... no good. They get in ... feed on water. The filter, I hear, stops them, but it needs water to flush out the filter...” She looked at the pail and gestured Darin to hold the filter next to her and flip it.

With that, she took the pail of half-filled water and began to pour it over the filter. The clogged portion and running water immediately cleared the contaminants onto the sandy ground. She was careful, ensuring every drop would remove the grime and dirt from the filter. It was a sacrifice, having to use water to get more water.

“Ehh...,” Darin said. “Don’t feel bad. It’s like this on Earth, but worse. Even a little bit of the muck on my planet will kill a man faster than the snap of the fingers.”

“Your ... water kills you?”

“It can ... I don’t reckon it hurts you, Itreans, though...”

“Parasites no kill Itreans, just annoying ... getting fresh water now.”

The filter was as clean as it was going to be. Swi’ya gestured Darin to put the filter back into its slot. He flipped it and placed it back in before he took the bolt and began to screw it back into the Ote’wan device.

“You have ... better Ote’wans on Earth?” she asked with a few clicks in her voice.

“More or less,” the man answered. “More like purifiers.”

“No ... what you humans call ... vaporators? Better vaporators?...”

Darin looked at the device as he finished tightening the bolt, producing a satisfying click. Swi’ya took the pail and brought it back to the spigot before pressing the button. The results were immediate as water rushed through, threatening to spill out of the pail. Darin reached over to the valve and adjusted the pressure release, slowing the release.

“I don’t know if our vaporators are better,” he told her. “But we can look into it.”

“We pay you ... Ote’wans last long time, but ... hard replace...”

It didn’t take long before Swi’ya had half a pail of what looked like clean water. With a slip of the lid, the pail was closed, sealing the valuable contents inside, leaving the carrying handle available for transfer.

“No done yet,” she said, standing up. “Turn off Ote’wan...”

“How?” he asked.

“Press button ... I think,” she pointed at a few buttons inside the panel. The cowboy’s finger reached in and tapped the top button. There was a click as organic resin pulled back, revealing a metal bulb-like device.

“Give it to me,” she said.

“Looks like fuses...,” he commented, handing it over to her. She took it and stuffed it into her only small pocket in her dress. The cowboy took the panel door and carefully closed it, trying not to break it. However, with a light tap, the entire hinge broke off, and the panel door plopped onto the dirt.

“Eh ... many pardons, ma’am...”

“No ... no fault,” she said. “Look...”

The man looked at the Ote’wan’s sides, seeing signs of what looked like claw marks.

“Shal’rein break it,” Swi’ya said. “Damage three nights past ... Oh ... I hate this.”

She sneered as Darin understood that she was deeply frustrated.

“I hear ya,” he told her, putting his tool away. “Here ... l’ll carry it.”

Swi’ya seemed to hesitate before she handed the pail of water to the cowboy to take. The half liter of water wasn’t much, but the combined efforts of every Ote’wan contributed to the town’s needs and exports to the other towns.

“Let us return,” she said. “Need break...”

She didn’t appear to be tired, but the cowboy could note that there were more of the townsfolk who were either finishing up in their area with the water they harvested or moving on to the other Ote’wans in the western and southern regions of the town itself. The man turned his attention to the right, seeing Natch in the distance, carrying a full pail of water with two Itrean women, possibly the same women he saw before that were hovering near him, almost like two kids wandering around their parents.

“Huh...,” Darin remarked. “Seems Natch has his set of fans...”

Swi’ya looked over, seeing the two as she gave a look of curiosity. “Mane’tu and Vane’tu,” she said. “Never see before ... They always quiet...”

“Natch has a way of attracting people when he wants to.”

“Not like you? Feri’nita call you ... cowboy...”

The two began their long walk back to the town. Darin turned to look down at Swi’ya. He could see that she was briefly smiling at him. Before he knew it, the bartender took her arm and scooped it around the cowboy’s arm. Almost leaning her body against his as they walked.

“Getting a little up and personal, ma’am?” he commented with no protest.

“I no understand,” she said. “Just tired ... need human like you ... like Shal’rein, but no evil.”

“I imagine Feri’nita wouldn’t be too pleased with you right now, seeing you getting too comfy with me.”

“Hmm ... disagree, Darin. Feri’nita and you ... repay me ... repay Jiqua’nyu with interest. She cook, do little out here where work happen ... humans ... so silly...”

“How so, ma’am?”

“You are ... not like Itrean males. Everything bare ... nice, silly, or weird ... all there front. But ... you are bigger ... nicer ... gooder...”

“I beg to differ. I just do what needs to be done, Swi’ya.”

Darin could almost feel that Swi’ya, while she tried to pull away from the man, was already growing fast attached to him. Perhaps it was merely physical and mental exhaustion taking complete hold. But the question for Darin’s mind was what Feri’nita would say if she saw the two getting close. Part of his mind told him it was of no concern. If anything, it was being encouraged somehow.

“Easy to say,” she said with a few clicks in her voice. “I envy you, humans. You have lives ... now you breed ... breed like Ax’ol’pa ... nothing but women to take...”

“Trust me, Ma’am,” Darin remarked. “It wasn’t always our first choice in life to be reduced to breeders for you, Itreans. It just happens...”

“No ... but I see it. Work in Hebis’soka long enough ... work in Ko’min den long enough ... you see it. Before males die, I see it ... sex, mate ... the males must mate ... it is drive ... needed drive to mate. Ko’min ... we know this. We ... relieve it. I hear it ... remember the males sometimes say ‘thank you.’ Even a man like Czarek. He will say ‘thank you.’ Why? Because he is drive to mate...”

“I admit it’s quite interesting to see how the Ko’min operate in a society where marriage ... mateship is treated seriously and all. Yet, you exist.”

“ ... Your Engrish ... I wish I study harder...,” she lightly shook her head, transfixed in what she was going to say. “No expect humans here...”

“Perhaps Feri’nita could translate...”

“No ... words for you and me. Ko’min ... sell for sex, because they want sex. They know that mateship needs sex. Even carry papers in T’rintar clan for non-mated mating.”

“License to become prostitutes ... hmm. I’m curious, Swi’ya. Feri’nita called you a Golarren. I got the gist of what it means, but I’ve never seen an Itrean of your type before.”

She remained quiet as the word for Golarren seemed to hover in her mind.

“Should I apologize for using such a word?” he asked.

“ ... No,” she said. “Just ... surprised. My mother is Ko’min. My father is not Ko’min. My parents loved each other ... I am both ... just wish I had boobs ... you, humans like boobs.”

She took her one hand and pressed it to her flat chest. From what Darin knew, the Ko’min weren’t just flat-chested; they probably didn’t even have the ability to breastfeed at all, being more in line with the Fo’mil onboard his ship.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he told her.