Episode 29
Travelling Light E029S01 Transcript
H.R. Owen
Hello friends, Hero here. This week we're shouting out Remnants, a deliciously dark fantasy thriller set in a strange world beyond reality where the Apprentice learns to read lost objects and the lives captured in them. Remnants is beautifully written and delightfully atmospheric, with each episode capturing a new story that builds upon the last for an intricately woven mystery. Listen now wherever you get your podcasts, or check out the show notes for more details.
[Title music: rhythmic electronic folk.]
H.R. Owen
Travelling Light: Episode Twenty Nine.
[The music fades out.]
The Traveller
24th Lailo 850
To the community at Emerraine, who carry the Light.
When last I wrote, I was awaiting news from Aboday about a potential buyer for the antique helmet – uh, the Spréif Dynasty zischägge, I should say.
I did not have to wait long. Before the Tola was due to leave Manacier Station, she had made contact, confirming the buyer's interest and seeking to arrange a rendezvous.
I almost wish the wait had been longer. I had not yet decided how best to proceed, and had hoped for a little more time to mull things over.
But Aboday's message pressed home the urgency of the matter. Her buyer would be in the system for only a brief window of time. If I wanted to sell, I must do it then.
I read Aboday's message through once, twice, and once more to make sure I had understood. And then once again for the sake of putting off my decision just a-a moment longer. But, in the end, I closed my communications device and left my cabin, making my way to the navigation deck.
Aman was sitting at the controls, as I had expected. Even when the ship is in dock, she spends a good deal of her time in the navigation deck. It is a space entirely her own, more so perhaps than her own cabin, with her well-read collection of ghost stories and thrillers neatly stacked upon the shelves.
She… did not seem pleased to see me. She has not, generally, since the sale on Koom. But that is precisely why I felt she ought to be the first to hear about the new buyer. Whether it improved her opinion of me or not, it would at least demonstrate that I was trying.
She listened to my explanation of the situation with characteristic stoicism. I kept my account brief and to the point: I had secured a broker, and she had secured a buyer, and the rest was up to us. When I finished, Aman held me in a cool, level stare.
“How much?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.
“H-how much...?”
“How much is this buyer offering?”
“675,” I managed. I do not know if you have ever been glared at by an immaculately dressed Quvett but it would put a waver in anybody's voice. “That will not all be profit, the broker will take her share but, uh. Still. It seems… good?”
Aman raised one perfect eyebrow. “Good? It's excellent.”
I hardly believed what I had heard. “Excellent? Really?”
“Really. We'd be fools not to take it.”
[laughing] Friends, I cannot tell you the relief that washed over me. I had done it! I had done something right! I was well on my way to making amends. But I had one more thing to add.
“I think,” I started, steeling myself under Aman's attention. “W-well, I… I think we ought to inform the rest of the crew. A-about the sale, I mean. It has the potential to make a significant change to all our fortunes, and, w-well, they might even have some insights on how to proceed. Duytren certainly ought to be consulted…”
“Of course they should be informed,” Aman said, already reaching for the intercom to make a ship-wide announcement. “There isn't a chance in hell I'm letting you go unsupervised.”
We gathered, all of us aboard, in the common room to discuss the issue. While we all could agree that the sale ought to be pursued, there was little consensus in quite how.
Aman was adamant that I could not and must not be permitted to attend the sale alone. She was so adamant in fact that I felt moved to point out, I had not actually suggested otherwise.
Hesje, bristling with nervous energy but bright-eyed at the good news, wanted us all to attend, treating the trip as a kind of group excursion. Annaliese, though, was quick to point out this might undermine our credibility somewhat, and besides, neither she nor Tsabec had any interest in attending.
This was not the uncontroversial statement you might expect. My description of the buyer as a collector of historical artefacts had piqued Tsabec's interest. They had no desire to miss the opportunity to speak to such a person, despite Aman's insistence that this was a business trip, not a social call.
The conversation wound on and about and back upon itself, until everyone was hot and cross and frankly sick of the subject. Someone proposed putting the matter to a vote, but Aman refused the suggestion absolutely.
“Consensus,” Wolph said forcefully, adding his voice to his cousin's. “All agreed, or not at all. How we do things! No hard feelings.”
I had not realised that this was a feature of Quvett culture. Apparently, group decisions are made by long debate and unanimous agreement rather than popular vote.
It does seem a long-winded way to get things done, but I suppose Wolph is right. It is hard to feel hard done by about a decision you have put your own name to.
Eventually, we decided – all of us. I would attend the sale with Tsabec, each under strict instruction to behave ourselves. And we would be attended by Aman and Duytren – the two most experienced crew mates in these matters, and the least likely to provoke an emotional outburst on my part.
I did not much care for this last characterisation of myself. I do not think I am prone to outbursts! I admit, yes, Hesje's emotions during the sale on Koom effected me. Obviously! But that is only an expression of perfectly reasonable compassion for somebody I care about!
But there was no point pushing the issue. The decision was made, and I suppose it is a fair one. We were standing to leave, a few of us making plans for dinner, when Óli spoke up.
“I should like to attend,” they said, looking only at Aman though I was sat directly beside her.
They held themselves stiffly upright as they spoke, unused, perhaps, to speaking their desires quite so plainly. But they held Aman's gaze, and did not look away.
“It is an important moment,” they explained. [sighing] “And besides, I do not think I should be at ease the entire time you were away otherwise.”
There were no particular objections to the suggestion, and so, it was agreed. When the time comes, myself, Aman, Óli, Duytren and Tsabec will travel to the rendezvous together.
And I absolutely cannot think any more about it! [laughing nervously] Lest the nerves consume me. [laughs] I will leave off writing again until this is all over. For now, I must distract myself. I cannot sit aboard the ship simply waiting and worrying. [sighs]
I shall ask Óli if they would like to come for a walk. I know they have been feeling somewhat neglected lately. Send my love to all at home. And please – hold me in your prayers. It would be a comfort.
[The click of a data stick being inserted into a drive that whirs as it reads]
The Traveller
Entry LA85024-5: Describing the pigment trade of Tauzig, and its impact on local culture.
Key words: arts and crafts; clothing and costume; ethnography; Koom; local history; material culture; philosophy and theology; Tauzig.
Notes:
As a passenger aboard a ship doing intrasystem trading – if only temporarily – most of my time on Koom has been limited to the areas around the planet's primary port. Recently, however, we had cause to travel further afield to the city of Tauzig, a smaller port on one of the planet's southern continents.
Tauzig is best known for its trade in dyes, paints and pigments. It is an astonishingly colourful city, with long cultural habits of decoration and adornment both upon the person and the place.
Murals abound, hardly a wall left uncovered. This vibrant tradition has its roots in the advertising practices of pigment merchants of old, who would demonstrate the enduring vivacity of their wares by daubing bright images on the walls of their premises.
Since then, murals have become a keystone in Tauzig's artistic vernacular. Council-commissioned pieces with their depictions of jolly citizens and historical events rub shoulders with the far more common unofficial works sporting political slogans, or following their forebears and advertising local businesses.
The very air of Tauzig crackles with colour. Flags criss-cross the streets in looping strings, a celebration of the fabulous dyes produced in the city. The people too are richly adorned, with local tastes running rather to the flamboyant – at least, to my foreign eye. I am sure I look unbearably drab to them! [laughs]
Tauzig's colourful history can be traced back to the earliest people living in the region. The archaeological record demonstrates the use of native plants, minerals and even animals to create vivid pigments – some of which are still made today.
Kamlian orange, for example, is made from the crushed shells of a species of crustacean native to the brackish waters around the mouth of the River Kamli, the river which runs through Tauzig and gave it its wealth in long-passed days.
Efforts have been made to replicate Kamlian orange, either with synthetic dyes or off-planet breeding programmes for the crustaceans in question. But none have been able to replicate the precise, vivid shade.
Its rarity makes Kamlian orange a highly-prized pigment for artists and fashionistas alike, commanding increasingly eye-watering sums the further one moves from Tauzig itself.
Some Tauzig pigments get their fame through the sheer unlikelihood of their discovery. There is a shade of purple made here that is derived from the dried and pounded roots of the plyssia flower mixed with urine from a bos who has been fed a strict diet of river water and fallorun leaves.
The pigment's existence is testament to the Tauzig people's determination and creativity in their hunt for colour, not least because neither plyssia, bos nor fallorun are native to the region.
As one might expect, colour holds a special place in the philosophy and worldview of the people here.
One belief holds that each person has a uniquely empowering combination of colours that will bestow good fortune upon them if they are habitually incorporated into that person's life.
It is the work of a lifetime to discover one's full spiritual palette. Fortunately, one need not struggle alone. All over Tauzig, expert merchants – part peddler, part priest – offer their services in discerning the perfect colours to bring you peace and joy.
The process has become enormously popular among visitors to the city, so that one can barely move through the more tourist-centred areas without being beset by exhortations to “get one's colours done”.
Left to my own devices, I would not have thought of undertaking the process myself. But I was walking through the city with Óli, a person rather more concerned with aesthetics than I am.
When we were approached by an itinerant merchant offering the service, Óli was delighted, and insisted we both take part.
It was a more mystical experience than I had expected, involving a good deal of incense smoke and chanting as the merchant worked to bear witness to the purest colours of our souls.
I do not know if I really believe in these claims. If it brings comfort and satisfaction to others, so be it, but I do not think it any great insight to say that Óli will find joy in bright colours. That much is evident just to look at them, for their clothing would give any Tauziger a run for their money.
Still, it was good fun! [laughs] And who knows – perhaps a few changes to my wardrobe will bring me exactly the peace and prosperity I was promised.
As luck would have it, the merchant just so happened to have several items of clothing for sale in just the colours they had recommended to me. A happy coincidence, I am sure.
[Title music: rhythmic instrumental folk. It plays throughout the closing credits.]
H.R. Owen
Travelling Light was created by H.R. Owen and Matt McDyre, and is a Monstrous Productions podcast. This episode was written and performed by H.R. Owen.
This week’s entry to the archives was based on an idea by Snazzycrow, with accompanying artwork available on our social media accounts.
If you've got an idea for an archive entry, we want to hear it. You can send us anything from a one line prompt to a fully written entry through our website, by email, or on social media. For more information, see the show notes.
If you want to support Travelling Light, please consider leaving a review on your podcast platform of choice. You can also make a one-off donation or sign up for a monthly subscription at ko-fi.com/monstrousproductions.
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This podcast is distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. The theme tune is by Vinca.
[Fade to silence. Then, the Remnants trailer begins. Atmospheric music plays throughout]
Eira Major
Hello, I’m Eira, creator of Spirit Box Radio, Not Quite Dead and Clockwork Bird. This July I’m releasing a brand new show, Remnants, a gothic fantasy thriller.
The show follows the new Apprentice at the First and Last Place as he sorts through objects which hold the remnants of their previous owners within them.
His job is to decide which of them should be re-shelved, and which discarded, but he has no criteria to work with and no idea what the consequences of his decisions will be.
As the story goes on, the Apprentice begins to wonder why he, of everyone, was chosen for this task, and why his near-omniscient boss, known only as ‘Sir’, has chosen now to train an assistant.
Remnants has a new story to muse over every week, and a mystery at its core which will have you pinning red string to cork boards as you try to solve it. Think The Talented Mr Ripley meets The Good Place and The Sandman.
Remnants: An Audio Drama will start airing wherever you listen to podcasts from 15th July 2024.
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