The concierge paled. “Mrs. Ansteed went out alone? Is she all right? Surely the night clerk warned you of the need for a guide?”
Martin shrugged. “She’s resting. There may have been some mention of a guide but we hardly thought an escort necessary with the market right next to the hotel.”
“Mr. Ansteed, I sincerely apologize for our clerk’s failure to properly clarify the situation. He will be sternly reprimanded. To make amends for her stressful experience, may I offer you and your wife a luncheon on the house? Served,” he hastened to add, “with our special Keggan tea, famed for its medicinally soothing properties.”
Martin allowed himself to be placated by this offer and asked why the Keggans lived their lives in a way that seemed to benefit no one.
The concierge spread upturned hands. “Apparently chaos suits them, although I have to say, the situation’s worsened over time. When I arrived five years ago, they were much better organized, with roads, footpaths and clean canals. Beautiful gardens surrounded this hotel, which were respected and not encroached upon by the market stalls. These days if we didn’t keep our doors locked we’d wake to find half the market in the lobby.”
“Can’t you get the local law enforcement to move the stalls off the hotel grounds?” Martin said.
The reply was music to his ears. “There is no law enforcement.”
“What?” He tried to sound shocked. “Are you saying crimes go unpunished?”
The concierge tilted his head. “More their idea of a crime is different from ours. They’re very easy-going about things we’d define as crimes. Yet what we would call social gaffes they take high umbrage to.”
“Such as?”
“Offering one of their special teas in the wrong cup; touching, even just brushing another Keggan, its clothing or possessions without permission; and… incredibly, asking a Keggan to move, regardless of where it’s decided to prop itself.”
Martin blinked. “That’s insane.”
“By our measures, certainly.”
“Who issues the penalties for these infringements?”
“Those who are transgressed inflict their own penalties. You wouldn’t think it to look at them but Keggans can be quite vicious. Offend one and you could easily find yourself ripped to dog meat. The nails at the ends of their paws are steel-hard and sharp as razor blades.”
Martin’s jaw dropped. “Surely a Keggan who harmed another in this way would be punished.”
“No one argues with a Keggan’s right to retaliate.”
“Then fights must be breaking out constantly!”
The concierge shook his head. “Violence is actually rare. The Keggans take great pains not to upset their fellows, which is why a guide is essential when you venture outside. Transgressing their social mores can be fatal.”
During lunch in their room, Martin could scarcely contain his excitement. From being hugely difficult, his wife’s murder had become as simple as ‘accidentally’ bumping her into a Keggan and standing back. Suddenly he was itching to begin sightseeing.
Eileen reached across and poured out some of the famous tea. Sipping, Martin felt his restlessness stilled. This brew really was soothing. The new calmness cleared his mind and made him realize things might not go as easily as he’d imagined. What if someone were to see him bump her? Would the Keggans then regard the transgression as his instead of hers? This close to his goal, he’d be foolish to rush in halfcocked. He would question their guide to make sure of where he stood before acting.
His wife’s voice broke into his thoughts. “I did some reading on the Keggans while you were talking to the concierge. Apparently they’re sticklers for good manners. They have certain greeting protocols, and you must never touch them or any of their possessions without permission. I’m glad I listened to the warning of my translator brooch this morning, and didn’t go pushing between the tents.”
Martin nodded, inwardly cursing the brochure. With this knowledge, Eileen would be less likely to upset a Keggan on her own. There was a scratching on the door and he opened it, standing to one side as a native stepped through. His wife rose and crossed her arms, placing a hand under each pit before bending low in a bow. The Keggan reciprocated. Martin was relieved when he saw its pale blue leotard. At least he wouldn’t have to dodge any flowing robes! He’d need to stay clear of that backpack the creature was wearing, though.
Despite backpack and bodysuit, it did indeed look like a meerkat, and made a chittering sound, which their translator brooches interpreted as, “My name is Tik-a-ka. I am your guide.”
His wife spoke. “Hello Tik-a-ka. We’re happy to meet you. I’m Eileen and this is my husband, Martin.”
The guide performed the cross-armed bow and Martin awkwardly mimicked the action.
“Do you have any preferences for sights?” their guide asked.
“A school first,” said Eileen. “I’d love to see how you educate your young. Then a hospital and after that I guess some famous buildings. The brochure says the Palace of Governance is a must-see.”
“There are no schools in this part of the cycle,” it replied.
“Oh.” Eileen’s voice was tinged with disappointment. “You mean it’s vacation time?”
The translator chittered and the guide paused before replying.
“That’s right.”
“Well, how long does vacation last? We’re here for another ten days.”
Again Tik-a-ka hesitated. “The children have been on vacation for about three years. We are hoping this will end soon.”
Eileen’s mouth formed an O and Martin spoke. “I don’t understand. They’ve received no education in all that time?”
“Families teach their young when the schools are unavailable.”
“But why are the schools unavailable?” said Eileen. “How can they be shut for so long?”
Another pause. “The schools are not shut but they are inaccessible to most.”
“Oh my God!” Eileen strode a quick circle, growing red in the face. “It’s like the market, isn’t it? Keggans have settled themselves around the schools and blocked all access!”
The guide replied calmly. “That is correct.”
“What about the hospitals?” she cried.
“There are no hospitals in this part of the cycle.”
Martin gave a laugh. “Insane! You’re saying Keggans who require specialized medical assistance or operations just die?”
“That is correct.”
Eileen was now pale. “How many are we talking about?”
“Large numbers. Our water supplies are becoming contaminated by those who have settled too close to the canals. Many are falling ill.”
“You understand the problem and yet do nothing about it?” Martin spluttered.
Tik-a-ka seemed unperturbed. “Those who die may be touched – buried. Their housing may be cleared. In this way new space becomes available. When many die there is much space again.”
“That’s crazy!” Eileen’s eyes were brimming. “You allow your people to settle in inappropriate places and wait for disease to thin the population?”
“No Keggan will ever ask another to move,” said the guide.
Eileen threw her hands up.
“Is there any place you can take us?” Martin said.
Tik-a-ka chittered. “Follow me.”
Dropping to all fours it scampered into the hallway and down the stairs. Martin and Eileen followed. They left through the back of the hotel and circled the market, which was now thinning as stall owners packed up their wares and began the painstaking process of gaining permission from each owner before moving between the tents.
The three weaved through the dusty plain of chaotically distributed, adobe-style housing towards an imposing structure on a hill.
“The Palace of Governance,” whispered Eileen. “I recognize it from the brochure.”
The palace stood out markedly from the low, mud brick Keggan structures. It
had tall pillars, which appeared to be studded with opal glass of the type Eileen had purchased that morning. As they got closer, Martin noticed the housing becoming sparser and by the time they reached the steps of the edifice there were no Keggans in sight.
Tik-a-ka slipped off the backpack. “The long walk has been tiring. Would you care for some tea?”
Eileen smiled. “Like the soothing tea we had at the hotel? That was wonderful.”
“This is a different variety. It has revival properties.”
They watched Tik-a-ka produce some little blue cups, beautifully enameled, and unseal a flask to pour out steaming amber liquid.