The Texas House of Representatives, namely Rafael Anchia (HD 103), will present a resolution honoring Basque WWII Veterans on the House Floor at the State Capitol in Austin, TX on Wednesday, March 1, 2023. This will be the first resolution to honor Basque and Basque American WWII veterans in the history of the Nation.
On March 2nd, the events will continue at the Terrazas Branch of the Austin Public Library with the “Immigrants in World War II. Basques in Texas,” exhibition being displayed beginning at noon, followed by a panel discussion. The discussion, beginning at 1pm, chaired by Rep. Anchia will include panelists Dr. Maggie Rivas-Rodriguez, Director of the Voces Oral History Center, University of Texas at Austin, and Dr. Pedro. J. Oiarzabal, leading researcher at the Sancho the Beurko’s Association “Fighting Basques: Memory of WWII.” Dr. Rivas-Rodriguez will address the contributions of Latinos to WWII, while Dr. Oiarzabal will talk about the Basque WWII veterans in the US. Family members, relatives, and friends of the honored Basque veterans will attend the event and representing NABO will be Marie Petracek, NABO Treasurer.
The next morning, Kepa awoke and turned, watching Maite sleep peacefully next to him. Her dark curls splayed out across her pillow and her lips were slightly parted as she breathed. As he watched her, a wave of happiness overcame him. He felt like the luckiest man alive.
The Adventures of Maite and Kepa is a weekly serial. While it is a work of fiction, it has elements from both my own experiences and stories I’ve heard from various people. The characters, while in some cases inspired by real people, aren’t directly modeled on anyone in particular. I expect there will be inconsistencies and factual errors. I don’t know where it is going, and I’ll probably forget where it’s been. Why am I doing this? To give me an excuse and a deadline for some creative writing and because I thought people might enjoy it. Gozatu!
He lay there for a few moments, just watching, until Maite stirred. She opened one eye and glanced his direction.
“Hmm,” she mumbled. “How long have you been staring at me?”
“I’m not staring,” Kepa protested. “Just… watching.”
“Ok, then,” smirked Maite as she turned on her side to look at Kepa. “How long have you been watching me?”
Kepa blushed. “Only a few mintues…”
“A few minutes, and you just laid there?” Maite’s smirk turned into a grin as she scooted over, throwing her arms around Kepa and pulled him to her lips. “You restrained yourself from this?”
When Kepa and Maite finally made their way downstairs, they found Mari Carmen in the kitchen, coffee on the stove and breakfast on the table. She looked up as they entered. Raising an eyebrow, but with a smile, she said “Egun on” when she saw Maite.
“Egun on, Mari Carmen,” replied Maite, giving her a small peck on the cheek.
“How was dinner last night?” asked Mari Carmen as she placed two cups of coffee on the small table that filled the kitchen.
“It was awesome!” exclaimed Kepa. “Koldo is turning into a master chef.”
Maite nodded. “I agree. I was more than pleasantly surprised.”
“Koldo’s always been good at whatever he sets his mind to,” replied Mari Carmen. “He just has a problem focusing on what he wants to do. He has too many things he is interested in.”
Maite looked at Kepa, silently pushing him. Kepa sighed.
“Ama, speaking of focusing on what to do,” he began before pausing. “Ah!” he exclaimed, exasperated. “I didn’t think this would be so hard.”
“Zer?” replied Mari Carmen. “That you are moving to Donostia with Maite?”
Maite and Kepa looked at each other in shock before looking back at Mari Carmen.
“Nola jakin zenuen?” Kepa asked in disbelief. “How did you know?”
Mari Carmen chuckled. “It’s a small town. The ladies like to… talk”
There was an awkward pause as Mari Carmen, returning to her routine, let them digest the situation.
“Well…” began Kepa.
“Well, what?” asked Mari Carmen, innocently.
“Well, what do you think?” he blurted.
Mari Carmen sighed as she put down her dish towel. She came over to sit at the table across from Kepa and Maite.
“Look,” she said, “I can’t say I won’t miss you. This baserri is already too big for the two of us, and by myself…” She looked around, as if to survey the whole building – the foyer and the barn, the upstairs, the loft. “But, I knew this day would come, that you would need to strike out on your own, build your own life. I do hope you come to visit often – Donostia isn’t so far away – and maybe one day you will come back here with your family.” She shrugged. “Who knows. In any case, I’m happy for you.” She looked over at Maite and smiled before returning her attention to Kepa. “I can’t imagine anyone better for you.”
Kepa stood up and walked around the table, embracing his mother, a tear running down his face. “Eskerrik asko, ama. Maite zaitut.”
“Bai,” replied Mari Carmen, tears also welling in her eyes. “Maite zaitut ere bai.”
If you get this post via email, the return-to address goes no where, so please write blas@buber.net if you want to get in touch with me.
Today, Donostia is a thriving metropolitan city that is a draw for tourists from around the world. Picturesque beaches and an awesome food scene are just a few of the things that make Donostia a must visit. But, with any such city, these modern trappings hide a long history, one which often saw Donostia in the crossfire of conflict that resulted in, more than once, the near-destruction of the city.
A panorama of Donostia I took back in 2009.
The first documented reference to Donostia-San Sebastián, referred to as Sanctum Sebastianum, was in 934 by the monastery of San Millán de la Cogolla. In 1014, the king Sancho el Mayor of Nafarroa gave the monastery Sancti Sebastiani to the monastery at Leire. The Basque name of the city is a compound of done ‘saint, holy’ and the name of the saint Sebastian. Thus, Done Sebastiani evolved to Donostia. Donostia, as a name, appears in poems by Perez de Lazarraga in 1567.
Donostia as a formal town was founded some time around 1180. The actual date has been lost to history, but it seems clear that it was Sancho VI the Wise of Nafarroa who granted the privilege of founding a town. Donostia was the first village founded in what would ultimately become the province of Gipuzkoa.
In 1200, the town was conquered by Castilla, cutting Nafarroa off from the sea. However, in 1265, Nafarroa was given permission to use the port. Somehow, the city avoided the War of the Bands that ravaged much of Gipuzkoa and, in fact, Donostia only officially became part of the province in 1459.
Throughout its history, Donostia has been ravaged by fires. In the Middle Ages, fires occurred in 1278, 1338, 1361, 1397, 1433, 1483, 1489, 1496, and 1512. However, of these, it was the fire of 1489 that was particularly devastating. On January 8 of that year, the town essentially burnt to the ground. The town took advantage of the destruction by rebuilding with stone instead of timber. Another catastrophe took place on December 14, 1575: when lightning struck the powder magazine located near the top of the La Mota castle, 25 barrels of gunpowder blew up, falling on the city and causing a series of explosions and fires – literally raining destruction. The same thing happened again in 1688, again causing widespread damage to the city.
Starting in the 16th century, when the border between what would become France and Spain began to harden, Donostia saw greater strategic importance. Being the biggest city close to the border, it became known as the “Key to France.” This is in addition to the commercial importance the city already enjoyed. Indeed, Donostia had the royal privilege of being the port where half of the merchandise brought into Gipuzkoa had to be unloaded. The strategic location of Donostia meant that many kings and queens passed through and often stayed in the city, adding to its reputation.
In 1512, the city found itself in the middle of fighting between Nafarroa and its ally France against the forces of Ferdinand the Catholic. The French, after burning several nearby towns, besieged the city. With the help of reinforcements from Ferdinand and later Bizkaia and Gipuzkoa, the city expelled the French. However, the rest of the 16th century saw further hardship. Many sailors from Donostia and the surrounding towns had died in battle, reducing the number of experienced seamen that could fish cod and hunt whales. And, in 1597, the whole region was ravaged by plague, further harming the economic situation of the city and province.
The city fell into French hands not once, but twice, in the ensuing years. First, in 1719, the French Duke of Berwick took the city, which the French held for two years. Again in 1808, Napoleonic forces captured the city. Only a few years later, in 1813, British and Portuguese forces besieged the city to remove the French occupiers, but they had little concern for the inhabitants of the city and it again was burnt to the ground. La Tamborrada commemorates the city’s resistance against Napoleon.
Donostia became the permanent capital of Gipuzkoa in 1854. Before that, it had rotated between Donostia, Tolosa, Azpeitia, and Azkoitia, depending on where the Junta – the governing council – met. In the first half of the 1800s, Tolosa became the capital of the province before Donostia was named the permanent capital.
“Koldo,” said Kepa as he took a sip of his patxaran, “that was indeed the best steak I have ever had. Zorionak!”
Koldo beamed as the table erupted in applause.
The Adventures of Maite and Kepa is a weekly serial. While it is a work of fiction, it has elements from both my own experiences and stories I’ve heard from various people. The characters, while in some cases inspired by real people, aren’t directly modeled on anyone in particular. I expect there will be inconsistencies and factual errors. I don’t know where it is going, and I’ll probably forget where it’s been. Why am I doing this? To give me an excuse and a deadline for some creative writing and because I thought people might enjoy it. Gozatu!
“Mil esker,” he replied. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Shall we head to the plaza, then?” asked Maite.
“I’ve got to clean up, but I can meet you all in a little bit,” replied Koldo.
“I’ll help,” added Kepa. “We’ll be there soon.” He blew Maite a kiss.
Kepa started gathering the dishes and taking them to the sink as Maite and the others left.
“So,” began Koldo as he filled the sink with water. “You and Maite? How serious are you?”
Kepa blushed. “Serious enough, I guess. We are thinking of moving in together if she goes to school in Donostia.”
Koldo smiled. “I’d always hoped you two would get together.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“I don’t know,” shrugged Koldo. “You complement each other. She is so rational, so level-headed, and you are…”
“What, irrational and flighty?” interjected Kepa, laughing.
Koldo smiled. “Ez, ez. More of a risk taker, someone who dreams about the impossible. I always thought you could help lift Maite up as she does her work.”
Kepa nodded. “I can see that. Inspire her, in some way.” His lips tightened into a small frown. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to talk science with her, though. I worry she will get bored with me.”
Koldo shook his head. “She’ll have loads of people to talk science with. I wouldn’t worry about that. What she will need is someone to talk about other things with. To distract her from all of that science stuff. To keep her grounded in the every day world.”
“I thought I was going to inspire her!” exclaimed Kepa, half jokingly.
“Bai, bai,” nodded Koldo, “but you also need to give her a lifeline to every day life.” He paused as he passed a dish to Kepa to dry. “You have a hard job.”
Kepa laughed. “I hope I can handle it. I’d hate to get fired.”
“Just do what you are doing, I think you’ll be fine.”
“What about you?” asked Kepa, shifting the focus away from him. “Anyone special I should know about?”
“Ez,” replied Koldo emphatically. “I’ve got my music and my cooking. I don’t have time for anything, or anyone, else.”
“Not even someone from the band?” asked Kepa. “I always imagined that band mates were especially close.”
Koldo laughed. “Ez. We all have great chemistry. I don’t want to mess that up by getting romantic with any of them. That’s when things start to fall apart. Or egos. Egos are also bad for bands. No, I want to give the music and the cooking a real chance. Maybe after they have run their course, I’ll consider settling down. But until then…” Koldo threw his head back, his long hair flipping over his head as he did an air guitar solo.
Kepa couldn’t help but laugh. “Let’s go find the others,” he said as he put the last dish in the cabinet. “Unless you’ve sworn off txikiteo too!”
Koldo laughed again. “Inoiz ez! Never!”
If you get this post via email, the return-to address goes no where, so please write blas@buber.net if you want to get in touch with me.
My first stay in the Basque County began in the city of Donostia. I really didn’t know anything about the city and I ended up staying in a flat in the Egia neighborhood. I would walk, weather and time permitting, through the tunnel that connected Egia with the downtown, and along La Concha to classes at the University of the Basque Country. More than a few evenings were spent in the Parte Vieja, wandering the streets and bars to the wee hours of the night. Looking back, it was a special time in a special city. I don’t think I realized how lucky I was to live in such a majestic place.
A panorama of Donostia I took back in 2009.
Donostia straddles the mouth of the Urumea river. Mount Urgull sits at the mouth, rising on the western bank. To the west, just past the beaches of La Concha and Ondarreta, rises Mount Igeldo. In the middle of the bay Bahía de la Concha sits the island of Santa Clara.
In 1863, the walls, built over many years to make Donostia a military stronghold, were demolished. This opened up the surrounding region for development and the city exploded. Donostia has over 25 different barrios or neighborhoods. At the heart is the Parte Vieja or Parte Zaharra, the center that was surrounded by those original walls.
The coat-of-arms of the city consists of a ship with its sails spread over the waves of the sea and a banner that reads “For fidelity, nobility and loyalty earned.”
Donostia is perhaps most famous for its food. It has a high concentration of Michelin Stars – it has the second highest density of Stars, second only to Kyoto, Japan. It boasts many world-class restaurants, including Arzak, Berasategui, Akelarre, and Mugaritz, currently ranked #21 in the world. Of course, the entire city but particularly the Parte Vieja is famous for its pintxos. And there are the txokos, or gastronomic societies, sanctuaries of food.
The other big attraction is the city’s soccer (sorry, futbol!) team, Real Sociedad. Founded in 1909, it has won La Liga twice, in the 1980-81 and 1981-82 campaigns. It once had a policy of fielding only Basque players, like Athletic Bilbao, but changed that policy in 1989. Real is currently sitting at third place in La Liga, behind Barcelona and Real Madrid. A women’s team was founded in 2004.
After Marina/Ainhoa left, Kepa went up to the bar to order some drinks.
“Orain zer?” asked Kepa when he returned, handing a beer to Maite. “What now? What do we do if we can’t trust Marina’s manifestations in the bubbles?”
The Adventures of Maite and Kepa is a weekly serial. While it is a work of fiction, it has elements from both my own experiences and stories I’ve heard from various people. The characters, while in some cases inspired by real people, aren’t directly modeled on anyone in particular. I expect there will be inconsistencies and factual errors. I don’t know where it is going, and I’ll probably forget where it’s been. Why am I doing this? To give me an excuse and a deadline for some creative writing and because I thought people might enjoy it. Gozatu!
Maite shrugged as she took a sip of her beer. “I’m not sure. I suspect it all depends on how long the bubble exists when we get there. If we get there soon after the bubble was created and find the zatia quickly, I suspect that version of Marina is in pretty good shape. But the longer she lingers in the bubble…”
“The more corrupt she might become?” finished Kepa.
“Well, not necessarily corrupt,” replied Maite. “At least, I don’t think so. But certainly more independent. More separated from the core that is Marina. So, I think we need to be finding the zatia as fast as possible whenever we enter a new bubble.”
Kepa nodded as he picked up his gin and tonic.
It wasn’t long before they finished their drinks, paid their tab, and headed across the street to the next pub where they were going to meet Koldo and the rest of their cuadrilla. Koldo was already there, waiting for them, when they entered. He had more drinks waiting on the bar with their names on them. Kepa smiled as he took another gin and tonic.
“Epa!” he cried. “Is everything ready?”
“Bai,” replied Koldo. “We have the place for the evening.” He looked over at Maite. “You ready for the best meal of your life?”
Maite laughed. “Remember, my parents used to run a restaurant. That’s a pretty high bar, you know.”
“Oh, badakit! I know,” replied Koldo. “But, I’ve been practicing. I think I’m turning into a pretty good chef.”
Koldo’s sister, Itxaso, and her boyfriend Xanti showed up a few moments later. Koldo downed his drink.
“Everyone ready?” he asked.
“Don’t you have a date?” asked Maite, making a show of looking around the bar.
“Ez, not tonight. Tonight, the food is my date. I plan to lavish all of my affections on the wonderful meal I’m preparing for you all.”
Maite looked quizzically at Itxaso, who smiled and nodded. “Yeah, he’s always like this now. Ever since he joined the txoko…”
“I’m just glad you invited us,” interjected Kepa. “I could use a great steak!”
Koldo laughed as he slapped Kepa on the back. “Ez, not a great steak. The best steak ever!”
If you get this post via email, the return-to address goes no where, so please write blas@buber.net if you want to get in touch with me.
When I lived in the Basque Country, from the fall of 1991 to the summer of 1992, I spent more than my fair share of time in the ubiquitous bars and taverns. But, for all of those hours, I drank maybe three different beers: San Miguel, Fosters, and Heineken. Once in a while, we got a Guinness, but that was rare. And, to be honest, despite the strangeness of Australia’s version of Coors being everywhere, I didn’t mind. It wasn’t until a few years later, when I went to school in Seattle, that I developed a taste for hops. And the story might have ended there, if it weren’t for the sudden rise of craft beer in the Basque Country. I’m sure this list won’t do the Basque beer scene justice, but consider it a sampler to whet your thirst.
Some of Basqueland Brewery’s colorful and exotic offerings. Photo from Craft Beer Nomads.
Basqueland started in 2015 in Hernani, Gipuzkoa. Since that time, they have brewed over 300 different beers and have won the Barcelona Beer Challenge as best brewer of the year two years in a row. While the owners – Kevin Patricio and Ben Rozzi – are from the United States, Oscar Sáez, the brewmaster, is from Donostia. They also have a gastropub in Donostia. In addition to their core staples such as Imparable IPA and Santa Clara lager, they have a number of limited edition specialty beers such as Berry Cobbler, a fruity sour; Home Slice triple IPA; and several hazy IPAs like Cat Show, Zumo, and Wilson Coconut. You should have no problem getting your fill of hops here! They just need to get a version of their webpage in Euskara!
Mala Gissona is another brewery in Gipuzkoa, this time in Oiartzun. Founded in 2014 by Iban Zabala Rivero and Manuel Murillo Martínez, Mala Gissona started out in the Gros neighborhood of Donostia. Inspired by the often-troubled history between the Basque Country and Iceland, Mala Gissona – bad men – also makes a number of IPAs and double IPAs: Endurance, Sor Dana, Albaola, Arrebato, La Ostia, and many more. They also have a smoothie sour – Dembow – and a lager – Koi – amongst many other offerings. They also need a Basque version of their website.
Naparbier comes from Noain, Nafarroa. Their slogan is “Hil Arte” – “To Death.” Their core collection of beers includes Paradise?, ZZ, Aker, and Zukua, which are a pilsner, an amber, an IPA, and a hazy APA, respectively. Naparbier started in 2009. The name comes from Napar – for Nafarroa – and the German word for beer. They started with just a pilsner and a dunkel, but now have more exotic offerings such as a Pumpkin Tzar Russian Imperial Stout and a barley wine aged in whisky barrels.
Boga is inspired by the strong connection the Basques have to the sea. Started in 2014, Boga is based in Mungia, Bizkaia. They have a diverse offering, not quite so heavy on the IPAs. Argia is a pilsner, Tosta a brown ale, Betlza an extra stout, and Martzela a weissbier. They also have Libre, an alcohol-free beer. And, of course, there is an IPA, which Boga has dubbed Lorea. This is all in addition to their special edition beers.
This is only the tip of the iceberg. You can find a listing of some breweries in Iparralde here. Craft Beer Nomads has a writeup on some breweries in Hegoalde.
“Zer?” exclaimed Maite, her eyes wide. “You are in all bubbles at the same time?”
The Adventures of Maite and Kepa is a weekly serial. While it is a work of fiction, it has elements from both my own experiences and stories I’ve heard from various people. The characters, while in some cases inspired by real people, aren’t directly modeled on anyone in particular. I expect there will be inconsistencies and factual errors. I don’t know where it is going, and I’ll probably forget where it’s been. Why am I doing this? To give me an excuse and a deadline for some creative writing and because I thought people might enjoy it. Gozatu!
“Bai,” replied Marina. She paused a moment before letting out a large sigh. “Even now, I exist in all of these bubbles, but my mind…” She took a deep breath. “I feared that I might be fracturing, that I might lose touch with my different selves.” She looked at Maite and Kepa. “It seems my psyche is starting to break.”
Kepa exchanged a nervous glance with Maite. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“My mind co-exists in all of these different bubbles. I thought I could handle it, experiencing all of these realities all at once, but clearly, I cannot. I think some of my… selves, for lack of a better word, are splitting off from me.” Marina paused again. “What bubble did you just come back from?”
“It was a future version of Bilbao,” replied Maite. “De Lancre was a high level government official. It was almost idyllic, except for his corrupting influence and the near omnipotent AI that controlled everything.”
Maite felt a rumble in the back of her mind but Garuna said nothing.
Marina nodded slightly. “I vaguely remember that bubble. It’s like when you wake up from a particularly vivid dream. You know you had a strong emotional response but you can’t quite remember the details. That’s usually how it is for me when a bubble pops. After a little while, I only have wisps left. But this one is even worse. I think my other self was growing even more independent from the rest of me.”
Maite shook her head. “There is so much I don’t understand. If you can’t remember the bubbles that pop, how do you know what de Lancre is doing?”
Marina frowned. “I don’t. I only have these vague impressions. I know he has done some horrible things, but I don’t know the details.”
“When a bubble pops,” began Kepa, “what does that do to you? To have that other self simply disappear?”
Marina nodded faintly. “It’s hard to explain. In some ways, I feel more whole, as my mind isn’t stretched as thin. But, at the same time, I do lose a whole part of me, a whole set of experiences that my brain was part of.”
“It seems like you could use an AI,” muttered Maite, shaking her head in disbelief. “Ok, so if you are in all of these bubbles at once,” she asked, “then why don’t you tell us what is going on in each before we go?”
“It’s complicated,” replied Marina. “First, I never know what zatia you will be chasing. That is almost random. It does depend on where you are, but there are so many out there, it is almost impossible to guess what bubble you might go to next. However, most importantly, I can’t really pull information out of each bubble. I know what is going on in each of them in some abstract way, but even when I can see what is going on, I can’t really pull it out. It’s confined to the bubble.”
“Sort of like the event horizon of a black hole,” mused Maite. “Information can never escape. It isn’t quite the same thing, but it has things in common. Information flow is only one way.”
“Sounds more like Las Vegas to me,” added Kepa. “What happens in the bubble, stays in the bubble.”
Maite gave Kepa a mock groan before turning to Marina. “But, what really matters is what is happening to you. You said your psyche is fracturing. What does that mean?”
“It means that I really don’t know who all of the other Marinas you find are. I just know they aren’t really me. You can’t trust them all.”
If you get this post via email, the return-to address goes no where, so please write blas@buber.net if you want to get in touch with me.
No Basque has won the Nobel Prize for literature. If there was ever a strong candidate, it might have been Pío Baroja y Nessi. He was a prolific writer whose influence extended to Nobel Prize winners such as Ernest Hemingway. However, he simply didn’t have the desire for self-promotion. He just wanted to write. His writing was controversial, and many of his books were banned by the Franco regime.
Pío Baroja y Nessi at his desk. Photo from Universo Lorca.
Baroja was born in Donostia on December 28, 1872. His father, Serafin Baroja, was a mining engineer who also had an artistic soul, writing operas and penning books of Basque songs. Pío started down a technical path, even receiving his doctorate in medicine in 1893, but soon shifted to letters and books. As a practicing doctor in Zestoa, he realized he had no interest in or aptitude for medicine. Further, his return to the Basque Country (he had studied medicine in Madrid and Valencia) rekindled a love of his homeland.
After a stint as a baker in Madrid, he decided to dedicate himself to literature, even though there was little prospect of making a decent life as a writer. “I already understood that trying out literature would give little pecuniary result, but in the meantime I could live poorly, but with enthusiasm. And I decided to do so.” With little taste for the public relations that was becoming ever more necessary for success, he purchased a home in secluded Bera from which he worked and hosted his nephew Julio Caro Baroja.
After the Spanish Civil War erupted, Baroja escaped to France. He tried unsuccessfully to make his way to the United States. Instead, he ultimately returned to Spain, where he continued to write. At the time of his death, on October 30, 1956, he had written over 100 literary works. Franco banned nearly all of his books.
Baroja’s first novel was La casa de Aizgorri. The first in his La Tierra Vasca trilogy, La casa de Aizgorri is about a petty bourgeois who struggles to keep his family business going. Perhaps his most famous work is El árbol de la ciencia (The Tree of Knowledge). The main character, Andrés Hurtado, is a doctor much like Baroja was who struggles to live in a world that he finds disgusting. Baroja’s books are often characterized as not having much plot, but having interesting characters. He captures the random events of life without trying to put his characters into some bigger plot. He also captured the pessimistic tone of a world that changed greatly during his lifetime, including two world wars and the Spanish Civil War.
Baroja was an anarchist. In one of his books, he stated “In the first place, I am an enemy of the Church; in the second place, I am an enemy of the State.”
Many other authors were influenced by Baroja, including Ernest Hemingway, who once told Baroja that Baroja deserved a Nobel Prize more than he did. While he was nominated for one, Baroja died before ever being selected.
Kepa’s phone buzzed almost simultaneously with the chime on Maite’s phone. He picked his up off the table as Maite glanced at hers.
The Adventures of Maite and Kepa is a weekly serial. While it is a work of fiction, it has elements from both my own experiences and stories I’ve heard from various people. The characters, while in some cases inspired by real people, aren’t directly modeled on anyone in particular. I expect there will be inconsistencies and factual errors. I don’t know where it is going, and I’ll probably forget where it’s been. Why am I doing this? To give me an excuse and a deadline for some creative writing and because I thought people might enjoy it. Gozatu!
“Ainhoa,” they both said, simultaneously.
Kepa read Ainhoa’s text. Looking up at Maite, he said “She wants to meet us.”
Maite shrugged. “Ok.”
Kepa texted that they were in the plaza. Ainhoa replied that she would be there in twenty minutes.
“What do you think she wants?” asked Kepa as he put his phone down.
“I’m sure it isn’t Ainhoa, it has to be Marina.”
Maite heard Garuna’s voice rumble in the back of her brain. “Who is Marina?” She chose to ignore the AI for the time being.
“Do you think she knows we just returned from one of our excursions?” asked Kepa.
Maite shrugged again and then sighed. “I don’t know what she knows. I feel she knows much more than she tells us.”
It wasn’t long before Ainhoa appeared in the plaza, walking up to their table. Her black hair was highlighted with yellow streaks this time. Even though it was reasonably warm, she wore a black leather jacket that almost seemed to engulf her. Black boots with bright red laces rose up to her calfs. One of her bare legs was covered in a tattoo of a woman with her hands crossed and fingers out in strange directions. Smoke poured from her finger tips and wrapped around Ainhoa’s leg.
Ainhoa pulled up a chair from a neighboring empty table. “Kaixo, Kepa. Maite,” she said as she sat down.
“Kaixo, Marina,” replied Maite.
Ainhoa/Marina sighed. “Bai, it’s me. I can’t hide anything from you,” she added with a wry smile.
“Oh,” replied Maite. “I think you hide plenty from us.”
“What is that supposed to mean…?” began Marina before Kepa cut her off.
“What’s up? What did you want to see us about?” he asked.
“Somehow,” answered Marina, ignoring Maite’s barb for the moment, “you broke the rules.”
“What do you mean?” asked Kepa.
Looking first Kepa and then Maite in the eye, she replied “You brought something back with you. The last time you went out.”
“How do you know that?” asked Kepa, trying to divert Marina’s attention away from Maite.
“I just know,” replied Marina curtly. “Did you or did you not bring something back?”
“We did,” said Maite. “We brought back an AI.”
“A what?” asked Marina.
“An artificial intelligence.”
“Where is it?” demanded Marina. “I need it back now.”
Maite pointed to her head. “It’s in here.”
“How…?” began Marina.
“It wouldn’t let us come back unless it could come too,” interjected Kepa. “We had no choice.”
“What do you mean you had no choice?” said Marina, her voice rising. “You could always get the zatia.”
Maite shook her head. “Ez. It had control of the zatia. It wouldn’t give it to us unless it came back with us.”
“You shouldn’t have brought it back.” Marina was almost in a state of panic. “We don’t know what will happen next!”
“What would you have had us do?” barked back Maite. “Stay in that bubble until we died? You weren’t helping us.”
Marina gasped, taken aback. “Zer?”
“You were there,” replied Kepa, his voice steady, trying to defuse the situation. “You were leading an underground revolt. But when Maite was taken by de Lancre, you were no where to be found.”
“I…” stuttered Marina. Her head fell, her eyes staring at the table in front of them. “I can’t believe I would do that.”
“Well, you did,” replied Maite, her voice cold.
Marina looked up. “Let me explain something, something I should have told you before. When you jump around, looking for the zatia, time is still linear for you. You jump through time, but you experience each event in sequence. It isn’t like that for me. I don’t jump from one bubble to another. I exist in all of them simultaneously.”
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