Dystopyum (The D-ot Hexalogy Book 1) Read Free Page B

one
or two seasonings. One common seasoning was an enzyme extracted from
yama, called “nako”. It added a “hotness” to the dish and helped a little
with digestion.
    Jan did not like a lot of the food they gave him, but he sure loved
yama toast and butter. “Can Rebecca come over now?” he asked.
“A little later, Jan,” Martha said. “After we eat, OK?”
“OK.” Jan stood there watching her slice the keesh, with the frying
pan waiting. What can I do? He glanced over at Sala, their pet emui. She
was sleeping at the entrance to the living room. She was one of the few
animals on D’ot that had fur, and Jan liked to touch the light brown and
white fur because it was always warm and soft. Better leave her alone, he
thought. Sala scratched me the last time I woke her up.
Jan turned his attention back to his mother. “Can you play music?” he
asked her.
Martha sighed, and put down her knife. “What do you want to hear?”
She’s going to do it! “Stahs at Night,” Jan responded excitedly. He
loved that tune. It made him feel happy.
“Well, at least it will keep you busy until I'm done cooking breakfast.” She gave his crest a rub.
Jan had a singularly unusual crest. Whereas Aletians had crests with
shades that were a bit darker than their natural gray scale coloring, Jan’s
crest was very different. It had irregular yellow-gold stripes, running
vertically on a rather white crest. The crest coloring stopped at the base of
his skull and faded into the usual gray as the crest became minimal along
the spine, and into the tail. When he was first born, the entire crest, from
head to tail tip, was yellow-gold on white. While out in public, people
would stare at him, but those who were familiar eventually got used to it.
Martha went and fetched the music player from a drawer, and placed
it on the kitchen table. She took the case that came with it, picked out a
spool, and inserted it in the player. Then she threaded the metallic string
through the guides to the receiving empty spool. She turned it on and the
empty spool started turning, pulling the string through the guides. The
music started.
Jan jumped up and down, clapping his hands. “I love you, Mama!” he
yelled loudly.
Jan's outburst startled Martha. By reflex, fear shot through her, and
she ducked. “No!” She quickly spun around, turned the music off, and
squatted down to Jan’s eye level.
Jan had no doubt something was wrong. “What Mama?”
Martha grabbed both of Jan’s shoulders and said “Jan, please listen to
me. The bad police will come and get you, and take me away forever if
they catch you say the word “love”. Do you understand?” she asked with
extraordinary intensity.
Jan just looked at her with his big, wide eyes, and said, “No, I don’t.”
Martha sighed and looked up, as if an answer were up there. She
looked directly at Jan again and said, “It doesn’t matter if you don’t
understand why. They are bad police, and they hate the word ‘love'. They
will hurt you! They will kill Mama. You don’t want that do you?” she
asked, shaking her head “no” so as to lead him in the same head motion.
It worked.
Jan was now shaking his head “No”. He said, “I won’t say that bad
word again!”
Martha responded, saying, “Baby, ‘love’ isn’t a bad word, except to
bad people. If you want to tell me you love me, you have to whisper it in
my ear, OK? And I have told you many times never to say ‘love’ in front
of Daddy, because he works with the bad soldiers.”
“Daddy is bad!” Jan said, with attitude.
“No, dear, Daddy is not bad. You just don’t understand. He loves you
too, but he cannot say it, even to himself.” Martha sighed. How do I
explain this nonsense to a three year old? Another sigh. “Here, give me a
hug, you little blog!” He jumped into her arms with a big smile.
She whispered in his ear, “I love you.”
He giggled, “That makes my ear itchy!” He whispered back into