Ōgidni: Mij's Testament, #3

By Gail O. Dellslee

Ōgidni is the third book in the Mij's Testament trilogy.  Fifteen-year-old Fil and his friends are a species called kin living peacefully on their planet Ōgidni before the humans arrive and turn their world upside down.  Kin are an ancient species, yet they are neither technologically advanced nor primitive.  The humans attempt to conquer each continent on their planet one by one while one traitor among them secretly tries to stop them.  Fil befriends and helps the humans, unaware of their ill intentions.  Who will win:  the human fighting for the kin, or the kin fighting for the humans?

• Language: English
• Publisher: GAIL O. DELLSLEE
• Release date: Mar 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9798201558550

Gail O. Dellslee

Gail O. Dellslee is a multi-racial author who grew up on the west coast of the United States. She started writing novels when she was 10 years old. Gail gets her inspiration from her cats and life experiences, and she enjoys incorporating real situations and people into her fiction.

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Pronunciation Key

Ȧ or ȧ as in the a in apple

Ā or ā as in the a in ate

Ė or ė as in the e in ethnic

Ē or ē as in the ee in eel

İ or i as in the i in insult

Ī or ī as in the i in ice

Ȯ or ȯ as in the o in odd

Ō or ō as in the o in only

Ѳ or ѳ as in the oo in good

U̇ or u̇ as in the u in up

Ū or ū as in the u in super

C or c as in the ch in change

G or g as in the g in god

Ŋ or ŋ as in the ng in sing

Ҕ or ҕ as in the sh in shooting

Đ or đ as in the th in thee

Ħ or ħ as in the th in Theo

Y or y as in the y in youth

Z or z as in the z in zoom

Ƶ or ƶ as in the s in treasure

All other letters are pronounced the same as they are in English.

3:1 - A Day in the Life

The sun rises in the west at 1:00 S, the first hour of the morning.  Its light is dim in the sky, which is overcast as always.  However, it is enough to shine through Fil Ȧnħrōp's pentagon shaped window, to illuminate his bedroom and charge the solar-powered phone and radio alarm clock on his sill.

The 15-year-old sleeps naked under a single blanket, on top of a soft mattress on the carpet.  Everything in his room reflects his passion for outer space.  His desk and bookshelves are packed with books on stars and planets, particularly Earth.  The carpet, walls, and ceiling are black.  In the middle of the ceiling is a lightbulb encased in a glass half-dome.  It symbolizes the sun.  Flat glow-in-the-dark planets are stuck to the rest of the ceiling, modeled in order from the sun as they are in reality.  Their satellites, however, are not included.

The stars are arranged accurately as well to show the 12 astrological constellations, which are all named after animals:  Sār, Tȧō, Ȧmī, Krā, Sēō, Trgō, Ȧbru̇z, Kōr, Sȧj, Tȧpr, Ȧkwu̇, and Kīsē.  The months are also named after these same 12 animals.  Fil's wall calendar is on the month of Krām.  The picture above the dates is a photo of a spaceship which was used to fly to Earth.  Each month has about six weeks to it, each week being five days long.  Four-letter months have 30 days, while longer months have 31 days.  The only exception is the last month, Kīsēm, which has 31 days every leap year, and 30 days the other three years.

Fil has written happy birthday! to himself in the first box of Krām, which is also the first day of summer.  It is not written in his native language, Kinȯf, but in English, a language which he became fluent in because it is the most common one used by the hirikin aliens on Earth.  The days of the week are Srdāg, Tȯru̇dāg, Ȧgu̇bdāg, Kūlmdāg, and Stȧkdāg.  Fil's birthday yesterday happened to fall on Stȧkdāg this year, which was Fil's day off work.  But today the four-day work week begins anew with Srdāg.

The radio alarm clock begins making noise at the time it was set to—when the short minute hand and long hour hand are both pointing down.  Fil's radio is always on the same station—#4; it plays the most Pȯsā Jūvėsp songs since one of the band members' parents work for that station.  Fil is friends with all five band members, so of course he would want to be a loyal listener to the station that plays the most of their songs.

Fil gets out of bed and pulls the aluminum blinds higher to allow more sunlight into the room.  He turns up the volume on the radio so that he will be able to hear it in the washroom next to his bedroom.  Whistling along to the song, he changes his calendar to the month of Kīsēm, which features another picture of a spaceship on it.  He winds up his shaver and shaves off the curly strawberry blond hair that grew overnight on his chin, under his nose, on his brow, and on the top of his head in the 12 hours he was asleep.  Eyelash hair is the only hair that is acceptable to keep, though some people obsessed with beauty pluck that too.

He squats over the toilet bowl to pee and poop, wipes his crotch and butt with toilet paper, flushes, then steps into the shower to wash his body.  The radio is on loud enough to be heard even over the water.  Headed Home ends, and now Sār Nu̇slēū's parents will do the weather report as they normally do every 30 minutes.

Nu̇slēū-pȯ  says, Lō, everybody.  You're listening to station #4, and that was 'Headed Home' by my lovely daughter's band, Pȯsā Jūvėsp.  Don't miss their concert this Stȧkdāg!  And now for the weather report from meteorologist Sōē Nu̇slēū.

Nu̇slēū-mȯ says, Lō, everybody.  The weather is still a little chilly at 26 degrees, but it's expected to warm up to 36 degrees by 7:00 S.  There is a 50% chance of rain today—in other words, it's just another average day in Sīdūrȧp Mȧtr!  We'll be back to the music after a quick commercial break.

Fil dries himself off with a black towel and goes into his bedroom to get dressed. 

First, he opens the drawer under his nightstand to get a pair of briefs.  He selects his work pair—the ones that read apprentice pilot on the back and front in Kinȯf.  Briefs are worn by both males and females.  Besides shoes, briefs are the only clothing anyone in Dėrōėnsē wears.  The weather is always warm, so there is no need to wear more.  Briefs are made out of a waterproof material.  They have two holes for the legs to go through, and they stay on the waist by an elastic band.  In the front are two thin pouches.  One is for money, and the other is for cards. 

The cards Fil has are his house key and his licenses:  his trīҕȯ driving license that he got when he was three, his drug license that he got when he was 13, his maturity license that he got when he was 14, and his voting license that he got when he was 10.  A person doesn't need to be a certain age to get licensed in anything; she only needs to pass a test that shows that she has the intelligence and competence required.

Second, he gets the glasses on the top of his nightstand.  He fastens the purple adjustable strap to the back of his head.  The glasses hug the front of his face and stay in place by resting over his nose and pointy ears.  He turns off the radio and puts his analog watch necklace around his neck.  Like most necklaces, his is easy to put on because the chains connect by magnet.

He walks down the hall past the bedrooms of his older brother Frā, his parents, and his only living grandparent, Ōjē.  The bedrooms are currently unoccupied because Frā has moved out and is now a hydroelectric plant worker, and the others are already on the first floor.  The house has an open floorplan; so once Fil descends the ramp, he is able to see the living room, dining room, kitchen, and foyer all at once.  They have a television and a computer in the living room, but they are rarely used.

Fil greets, Lō, Mȯ, Pȯ, and Ōjē-pȯpȯ!

They are seated around the Ku̇myūnitē-style circular table in the dining room.  Their mouths are occupied with chewing, so they don't reply.  They smile a greeting instead, not showing their teeth since it is considered immature, uncivilized, and disrespectful to show teeth.  When talking, showing the teeth is more unavoidable, but people with good manners do their best to open their mouths as little as possible.  Fil does this pretty well, but he has seen others who can talk with their mouth completely closed. 

Fil sits in the empty seat next to Ōjē who is in a wheelchair.  Ōjē broke his leg recently.  Since his wife died a couple years ago, he moved in with his daughter's family so that they could take care of him.  Ōjē is 100 years old, so he most likely won't live much longer.  Although he has nothing to live for in life, he doesn't have the courage to let himself go.  If his mental faculties had deteriorated, Fil's mother would have had legal grounds to have him painlessly put to death.  But Ōjē's brain is in tip-top condition, and his family loves him too much to want to get rid of him anyway.

Fil reaches for the box of mȯnu̇ in the middle of the table and counts out 10 in his head.  Ten is the serving size listed on the box, and Fil was raised to be health conscious.  There is no need for a plate or bowl, since mȯnu̇ is a dry food.  Mȯnu̇ are white, circular wafers coated in dried honey that the ȧbru̇z insects make.  Mȯnu̇ is the oldest breakfast food on Ōgidni, and it is still popular for its convenience, nutrition, and good taste.

Fil puts the box back on the table.  We're almost out of mȯnu̇.

His mother replies, Yeah.  I placed an order for more at Kōkr's.  Kēr Kōkr phoned 30 minutes ago and said it was ready.  Could you pick it up after your apprenticeship today?

Fil answers, Sure.

Fil's parents are both farmers of their own land, so they don't leave their property much.  A large truck powered by a rechargeable battery comes to their house to pick up their crops and distribute them to stores.  Since Ōjē is in a wheelchair and Frā no longer lives with them, Fil gets most of the groceries.  Kōkr's is the nearest grocery store, and it is owned and operated by the parents of another one of the Pȯsā Jūvėsp band members, Vėn Kōkr. 

Of all the members, Fil is the least close with her.  Vėn is shy and doesn't speak up much compared to the others.  Sīdūrȧp Mȧtr is no larger than any of the other cities in Dėrōėnsē; most of the residents know each other.

Since Fil's parents and grandfather don't have any job they need to rush off to, they take their time eating.  Fil is the first to finish his 10 mȯnu̇.  He heads back up the ramp to his washroom to brush his teeth.  Under the sink cabinets, a vent pushes out warm air which takes the morning chill off his bare feet.  After Fil is done brushing, he goes back down and walks to the foyer where everyone's sandals are kept.  Dėrōėnsē prohibits employers from forcing their employees to wear certain shoes, unlike other countries like Su̇sīėtē and Ku̇myūnitē.

His mother is there, taking a ҕōkl out of her briefs and handing it to him.  A ҕōkl is the smallest amount of currency on Ōgidni.  It is circular in shape.  The other coins are the triangular shaped ҕūrt which is worth 30 ҕōkl, and the square shaped ҕwār which is worth 400 ҕōkl.  They are all made out of laboratory-created bismuth, so they have a rainbow shine.  All eight nations use these coins.  A box of mȯnu̇ costs 2 ҕōkl, but Fil's mother already paid half the price when she placed the order.  Fil will pay the other half when he picks it up.  He puts the ҕōkl in his briefs.

Fil glances at his watch necklace.  It is almost 2:00 S.  He gives his mother a pėk on the top of her head, and she gives him one on his chin; she is too short to reach higher.

Fil calls, Jȯ!

His three family members reply, Jȯ!

Just as he puts his hand on the sliding front door to unlock it and pull it open, a knock comes from the other side.  Fil peers through the peephole.  He sees Ōjē's physical therapist and her apprentice, Kȧħ Kōkr, Vėn's 13-year-old sister.  Fil opens the door and lets them in with a smile, then steps out onto the veranda.  The door automatically locks behind him.  Shivering from the slightly nippy morning air, he goes down the ramp and under the porch to get his trīҕȯ.  Each one of his family members has a trīҕȯ, even Ōjē who most likely won't be using his anymore.  Fil's is the one painted purple, his favorite color.

A trīҕȯ is a three wheeled vehicle, person-propelled by two foot pedals that are on either side of the front wheel.  The roof and the two doors are constructed out of sīrėn, while the windows are made out of clear glass.  The roof also has solar panels on it to collect energy to power things such as the lights on the outside and the GPS navigational system within.  The trīҕȯ seats the driver in the front and two passengers in the back.  It is the primary mode of transportation in Dėrōėnsē, so most people (including children) have ones of their own.  Therefore, the seats in the back are usually used as a place to carry items rather than people.

Fil inputs the numerical code 2132 into the door to unlock it.  2132 is the birth year of the girl he has a crush on, Rēkō Tėkē.  He gets in the front seat, buckles his seatbelt, and pedals backwards to back out of the driveway and onto the paved street made out of recycled plastic.  The name of Fil's street translates to Rock Road.  Like most residential streets in Dėrōėnsē, the houses are spaced one kilometer apart on the sides.  People typically leave intact the natural jungle plants that surround the backs and sides of their houses.  Fil's house is an exception since his parents are farmers.

Each house is custom built.  Fil's house is a two-story tidewater style house.  It is a practical and common choice.  It features high ceilings to keep the indoor temperature cool; a high foundation to protect against flooding; low incline roofs to protect against hurricanes; steel reinforced concrete columns about one meter wide that support the house at each corner; bamboo walls that allow water to wash through, decreasing the likelihood of collapse; and shingles shaped like fish scales, painted a light color to reflect heat.

Across the street is Fil's nearest neighbor, Pȯl Ciwtsėrp, the lead singer in Pȯsā Jūvėsp.  Her house is ironic: even though her step-father builds houses for a living, the outside doesn't look much better than the shacks of Ȧmbėrtē; and even though her mother cleans a hotel for a living, the inside is a mess.  It is only one-story tall and made out of cheap wood, painted peach and sea green and half covered in vines.  Pȯl's house is silent and serene right now because she and her family members all sleep late.  Her parents work later in the day, Pȯl is her own boss and can work whenever she wants, and her little sister Hȯn is unable to apprentice because she is blind and mentally retarded.

Fil pedals hard in order to catch Rēkō as she rides out of her own driveway.  Her house number is 15, and Fil's is 13, so it isn't long before he sees her.  Her little brother Rik barrels out first as usual, his wheels screeching and his trīҕȯ almost toppling over.  He likes to go top speed all the time, which causes frequent damage to his body—he has a bandage on his forehead today—and his vehicle.  That is why he is apprenticing in the business of trīҕȯ repair—so he can fix it himself every time it breaks.

Rēkō backs out gracefully, just as everything she does is graceful.  Fil sucks in a breath when he sees her.  She and Pȯl were both his earliest friends, but it was always Rēkō who Fil had a crush on.  Rēkō was and still is the mature one, the smarter one, and the prettier one.  She has blue eyes that match the color of her three-story stone house, a darker shade than Pȯl's eyes.  Rēkō is tall, slender, and hairless.  She doesn't even have eyelashes!  But Fil knows that her hairlessness is natural, because she isn't the superficial, phony type to obsess over making herself beautiful. 

Besides Tȧō Kwōl, Rēkō is the only friend of Fil's who isn't a member of the Pȯsā Jūvėsp band.  She is reaching the end of her third and final year of apprenticing to be a school teacher, so she will be a full-fledged teacher soon.

Fil rides alongside her and greets, Lō, Rēkō!

He is careful to sound and appear calm; he doesn't want to appear too desperate or obvious that he's interested in her as more than a friend.

She replies with a smile, Lō, Fil.

Do you have any plans after apprenticing today?

Yes, I'm going to Nizmō's Jewelry Shop to place an order.  Mȯ gave me some money to buy myself a birthday gift.  I know that was months ago, but I keep forgetting to go.

He loves to watch her talk.  He can catch glimpses of her white teeth and the metal of her braces.  The sight is so arousing.  He often fantasizes about sliding his tongue into that mouth, though it makes him feel guilty for being perverted.

Fil says a little too enthusiastically, Oh, I could go with you!  I have to pick up some mȯnu̇ today anyway.

Nizmō's is quite a ways away from Kōkr's.

They're both still on Market Drive.  After a second of hesitation, he adds, Besides, I wanted to look at jewelry too.

Okay then.  I'll see you there.

She pedals faster, and he sighs as he watches her go.  He wonders if she realizes how much he adores her.  Does she feel the same way for him, or does she see him as just a little boy she's friends with?  They're almost four years apart in age, but it's not like that matters.  It's only illegal to be romantically involved with someone less than half one's age.

Fil turns his trīҕȯ onto Capitol Drive.  This is the street that the other band members live on (except for the drummer), but he doesn't see any of them out and about.  There are plenty of other riders around though—slowpokes who Fil passes and speed demons like Rik Tėkē who pass him.  The streets are made wide to allow this passing; they're the width of four trīҕȯ put side by side.  Fil also spots a cop trīҕȯ riding down the street, recognizable as such due to its Dėrōėnsē circular purple flag sticking up from the middle of its roof and the label pōlēs on all sides.  There is no minimum or maximum speed people are required to travel.  Those who can pedal fast deserve to do so, and those who want to go slow are free to do so.  Cop trīҕȯ are powered by a rechargeable battery, allowing them to achieve higher speeds not possible in regular trīҕȯ.

At the end of Capitol Drive is Market Drive where most of Sīdūrȧp Mȧtr's businesses are located.  The airport is building #56.  Fil pulls into the parking lot, parks in one of the many parking spaces, and gets out.  The door automatically locks upon closing.  He enters the building through the employee door which scans his body for drugs.  Moderate drug use is legal in Dėrōėnsē, but it's illegal to be intoxicated at all while working.

The parents of Jūn Tītr the pianist both work here; Tītr-mȯ is a ticket agent, and Tītr-pȯ is the pilot who Fil is apprenticing for.  Most couples work for the same company so that they can spend more time together.  Often it is the workplace where people meet their lifelong partners in the first place.  Not everyone is as lucky as Fil to have known his future wife since childhood.

Fil calls to Jūn's mother, Lō, Tītr-mȯ!  That's a lovely headlace you're wearing today!

She replies, Thank you, Fil!

She smiles at him, and then looks back at the customer in front of her.  Her headlace is a delicate silver chain across her forehead with a tear shaped tanzanite jewel dangling between her eyes.  She is in her late 40s but is still a pretty woman.

Fil passes the gift shop, weaves through the many soon-to-be passengers, and strides through the jet bridge that leads to Tītr-pȯ's circular airliner.  Sīdūrȧp Mȧtr's planes seat 200 passengers, 100 on the bottom level and 100 on the top.  Being on the top level costs more; it doesn't allow children or passengers who haven't passed their maturity test, unless the bottom level runs out of seats.  Made out of carbon-fiber and variable pitch aluminum, the purple plane is very fast and can circle the planet in less than five hours.  It runs off of a combination of solar and wind energy. 

Fil finds Tītr-pȯ sitting in the left pilot seat as usual.  He is wearing a necklace that matches his wife's headlace, only his is gold.

As Fil sits in the pilot sit on the right, he greets, Lō, Tītr-pȯ.

He replies, Lō, Fil.  I told you that you could call me Jȯn.

Fil feels himself blush.  I know, but it still feels awkward to call my elder and mentor by his chosen name.

Tītr-pȯ shrugs.  Suit yourself.

By the way, that's a nice piece of jewelry.  I just complimented your wife on hers.  It's cute that you two got matching ones.

Yeah, and check this out.

Tītr-pȯ opens the pendant and reveals the ticking analog clock inside that reads 2:00.

Fil says, "Awesome!  Pretty and practical!"

Fil's watch necklace is just an ordinary one without a gem on the outside.  He wonders if he'll be able to find a fancier one like Tītr-pȯ's at Nizmō's Jewelry Shop.  Better yet, maybe he can convince Rēkō to buy matching ones for the two of them!  If she ever buys him any piece of jewelry, Fil will never take it off, not even before showering or going to bed! 

They hear the footsteps of the passengers boarding the plane.  Tītr-pȯ stands and exits the cockpit to greet and smile at everyone.  Fil follows him out to do the same.  He doesn't see anyone he recognizes except Sār Nu̇slēū and her boyfriend Tȧō Kwōl.  It's ironic that they are lovers, since both of them have chosen names that are the names of animals.  A sār is a large red bird, and a tȧō is a two-horned mammal with a short golden coat in childhood that later turns black and white as it matures.  After Sār and Tȧō started dating, they got each other's animals tattooed to one of their knees.

Although getting tattoos is legal in Dėrōėnsē, most people consider them undesirable and immoral.  Tattoos are the punishment for some crimes, such as graffiti.  An immature person may find this tattoo to be amusing for a short time, but after a while she would feel shame every time others look down on her with disapproval.  The tattoo would also make it more difficult for her to get a job.

Sār and Tȧō often take flights to Nȯzu̇mē, which is where the plane is scheduled to fly this hour.  Tȧō goes there to visit his sister, Tōn, and Sār tags along with him to go skiing.  That destination is why the two of them are carrying clothes under their arms.  Some of the other passengers are doing the same, while others are already dressed in the clothes they will wear in that country.  Nȯzu̇mē is the only country on Ōgidni with temperatures below 0°, so it's the only country that gets snow.  Nȯzu̇mē should be warm now that it's summer, but the mountains where Sār and Tȧō go to ski have snow on them all year round.  Fil would like to greet his two friends with more than a smile, but he isn't allowed to hold up the passengers.

After a few minutes, all of them have been seated in their assigned seats.  Some of the seats are empty.  Passengers who canceled their flight are still billed for their tickets, because they took away someone else's chance to ride the plane.

Fil uses a cordless microphone to announce the instructions about what to do in case of an emergency.  Speakers around the plane make sure his voice is heard throughout.  Tītr-pȯ listens attentively to catch any mistakes Fil makes or to add anything he leaves out.  Fil needs no corrections however, because he has been doing this for a few months.

Fil finishes by telling everyone to buckle their seatbelts; then he presses a button that plays the prerecorded message for heading to Nȯzu̇mē:

Thank you for choosing us to take you to your destination of Nȯzu̇mē.  Please listen to these reminders of the country's laws, as you will be expected to follow them during your stay there:  Clothing is required to cover the torso and hips.  The following are illegal:  rape, murder, stealing, kidnapping, arson, public worship, being drunk or high in public. . . .

Fil and his mentor return to the cockpit and sit in their respective seats.  Tītr-pȯ pushes the usual buttons, flips the