They waited for their time, and then moved into position, and then were in a different universe. One might think that it would be momentous thing, moving from universe to universe; one might think that there would be some grand experience, or, failing that, at least some little jerk or twitch to mark the moment. But there was nothing like that. The sky did grow momentarily dark, the stars fading out to be replaced by new ones; but it was swift and subtle. When you do not look at them from some familiar place, when you watch only the stars in the distance, one universe looks almost exactly like another.
More time passed. From the new Cluster Hub they had to transfer again to get to the right galaxy, and then transfer again to get to the right system. Katja was tired of the same walls, the same benches; she slept more and, when awake she often paced. Conversation lulled. Kubiri was always ready to talk if she wanted to, but she was increasingly disinclined. She enjoyed the conversations when she did, but she was just restless. She felt caged. She thought at times of the sea. Of her routine walk from home to university. Of Darre's farm. Of the Shrine of the Tepi. She thought of festivals she had attended. She thought of festivals she was missing. She became frustrated when she realized that she was losing track of time. For that matter, when you travel that many Portals, does time really mean much. Once when she slept she dreamed that she had come back from her long adventure and discovered that no time had passed. Once she dreamed that she returned and a thousand years had passed.
When she had awakened the second time, Kubiri sat beside her and said, "I have been briefed on your mission. What do you know of the Tanaver?"
Katja thought. "Nothing much, I suppose. They founded the Alliance, they speak through the Oracles, they make the Portal system possible. Beyond that, they are a big mystery."
He grinned a big, four-cornered Samar grin. "You are closer than you know. 'Tanaver' is a very simplified form of a a word in Samartana dialect that means 'Vast Mystery'. Here in Universe One there is a system called the Tanaver system. The Chaktai capital is on the second planet in the system, and the third planet is the planet Tanaver, and it is technically the capital of the entire Alliacne. But it is not the Tanaver homeworld. There is no Tanaver homeworld. The Tanaver were not born in any universe but, for lack of a better way of saying it, in the spaces between the universes. They are collectors of civilizations; they like gathering distinctive ones together into harmonious patterns. They are caretakers and curators for universes."
"Tenders of the apple tree."
"The apple tree?" asked Kubiri, somewhat startled.
"We Syylven have a story about a great apple tree:
From seed came fruit.
The blooms grew full, each fruit a great world,
rich with every soul's habitation.
The tree of worlds. Sorry, it's just a metaphor, but it came to mind when you talked about caretakers for universes."
"Who has no metaphors has few thoughts," said Kubiri. "One needs metaphors in order to speak of things like the Tanaver, and it is a good one. Yes, they are gardeners tending the apple tree, perhaps better an entire orchard full of apple trees, loaded down with worlds, in order to make the most beautiful apples. Sometimes they splice boughs from elsewhere onto their favorite trees. Among all the civilizations in the universes, some, like the Samar, are home-grown. Others, like the Ylfae, if they are right, or like the Chaktai seem to be, are spliced in from elsewhere.
"Recently the Tanaver have been worrying about something they have been finding in other universes. A blight, so to speak, in which the variety of the universes is being stripped away and replaced with ugly repetition. Complex universal harmonies are being replaced by simplistic and monotonous noise. Were it just an occasional thing, they would no doubt regard it just as part of the universal wilderness, but it is systematic, it is thorough, and it is spreading. It is, in short, a deliberate and artificial imposition on the universes. The Tanaver had discovered people like themselves, not directly but manifested clearly enough in their effects. What they had discovered disturbed them -- and it should go without saying that they are not easily disturbed. They notified the governing bodies of the Four Core Protectorates, who have been pursuing their own investigation; and they began to set up defenses to protect the Alliance from the blight. And they have searched for anything else they could find about these others.
"Like the Tanaver, they usually involve themselves only indirectly, working primarily through protectorates, thousands and perhaps millions of them. Unlike the Tanaver, however, they aid their associates in attacking and conquering other societies, on a massive scale. These transplanted civilizations spread rapidly, choking out and subverting native civilizations. They have done this to dozens of universes, and are continually reaching out for more. At present they pose no direct threat to the Alliance itself, but if they continue to spread we will soon be surrounded, so to speak. All accessible universes will be dominated by them. Further, despite our tendency to talk of the Seven Universes, the Alliance strictly speaking extends past the boundaries of the Seven, just as the territory of a Protectorate extends beyond its habitable planets to its uninhabited systems and isolated outposts. There are a great many universes involved, and a great many outpost Protectorates that are more vulnerable than any Protectorates within the Seven.
"The Tanaver insist that something must be done before their direct intervention is required, before the blight reaches the orchard, so to speak. It is unclear whether these others are as powerful as the Tanaver -- the Tanaver think not, but they have no evidence for that beyond the monotony of what these others are producing -- but they are broadly of the same kind, and war between beings like the Tanaver would be unimaginably destructive. Entire universes would be in danger. While the Tanaver would likely survive it, they could not guarantee at present that the rest of the Alliance would. To this end they have proposed to the governing bodies of the Core Protectorates that a buffer system be put into place. One part of this buffer system consists of assistance to certain societies in fending off the invaders and, where appropriate, offers of Alliance membership. Watchtowers on the outlying hills, so to speak. The Core Protectorates have agreed. We therefore need ambassadors to represent the Alliance to these societies."
"And this is where I come in."
"Truly. You are being asked to be Envoy of the Tanaver to a society that the Tanaver judge would be a great loss to the universes if it should fall."
"But I have no experience as an ambassador."
"You had no experience as an Administrator of a space station, either. The Tanaver take few chances; you were thrown into a new and unfamiliar situation to see what you would do, and the Tanaver found nothing in your behavior to worry them. You have received the confirmation of both the Samar and the Chaka representatives on the scene. And, what seems to have impressed the Tanaver just as much, you have been willing to journey to an entirely different universe simply in order to hear the offer. The Tanaver think you will make a fine Envoy. I agree." He pursed his lips and the edges of his eyes crinkled. "The only thing left for your eligibility is acceptance of the position."
Katja sighed and shook her head. "It seems like the world keeps getting bigger and bigger."
"It always does," said Kubiri. Then: "We have some time, if you need to think about it. We will be making a stop at a Zezai world in order to prepare you for your mission: vaccinations and the like. Up to that point you are free to turn down the offer and return home with the thanks of the Tanaver and the Samar High Council."
"What would happen if I turned it down? In terms of the Alliance and the plan, that is?"
He spread his hands. "The Tanaver do not make fragile plans. Another would have to be found, and could be found, even if there were none as good. I do not know the process for doing that. I do not even know how you were chosen, except that it was deemed that a Sylven would be the optimal choice, since the Syylven are physiologically similar to the species in question, and that the Tanaver chose you as the most acceptable Sylven."
"What would you advise?"
Kubiri looked grave and adjusted his fedora. "On a matter such as this, advice will always fall short. There is no precedent for this, nothing suitable for casuistic analysis, an insufficient amount of information for reliable simulation. Decisions like this can only be made by good sense and good taste, in pursuit of truth and of beauty. You've shown yourself to have some of both. But I would point two things out. The first is that you would not have been asked if there were not excellent reason for it. And the second is that you should not accept unless you are genuinely willing. This is a dangerous thing that is being asked of you."
He was thoughtful for a moment, then said, "There is a third thing to be said. No matter what roads we walk, the beautiful life cannot be taken from us, only given up. Hard as the choice may be, in a sense it does not differ from any other. If you go home, that is a good choice, if only you go home to live a beautiful life. If you take on this mission, that is a good choice, if you take on this mission and live a beautiful life."
It was not long afterward that they docked at a space station. They then took an elevator down, which Katja found most remarkable. Her best guess was that it was something like a laser ablation system, which allowed the compartment to detach from the station and then descend at a controlled speed into the atmosphere. There was no window to a compartment, but when Katja asked if there was any way to see out, Kubiri was able to bring up some kind of holographic display, which showed an ugly red-yellow planet and a little dot showing where the compartment was. It hardly seemed to be moving, but numbers showed current speed of descent, which was then plotted on a graph.
It took quite some time to descend, although less than she would have expected. The ride was quite smooth. As the elevator settled into ground position, Kubiri said, "One important thing. This is not a samaroid world. The atmosphere of this planet is poisonous to almost any samaroids; a Samar would die in a matter of minutes and a Sylven almost instantly. The Pavilion itself is safe, but you must stay within Pavilion bounds at all times."
The door opened and they stepped out.
[1891]
1.10 Samar in the Field (I)
They made their way to a large suite that the Samar had reserved. Given Kubiri's low-key approach to everything she was somewhat surprised at how opulent it was; it would have shamed the finest hotels on Metsenia. They had hardly had time to look around when they were met by their two Samar dining companions. Kubiri introduced himself (with his full name, which still sounded quite as fantastic as it had the first time she had heard it) and Katja.
The first of the new Samar was light-gray in color, almost powdery white. He looked quite old. He wore a caftan like Kubiri's, but of vivid orange and gold. It would have drawn the eye, except that he had on his head a truly remarkable hat. It was a great pluming thing, vividly purple, like a large violet mushroom, almost a third as tall as he was. It was decorated with gaudy feathers of white and purple. What was most fascinating about it, however, was the fact that it was tipped precariously to the side and constantly looked on the verge of falling off, when it wasn't on the verge of sweeping things off the walls or shelves.
"It is a delight to meet you both," he said gravely in a deep and mellifluous voice. "My name is--" Here Katja braced herself for a long and unrepeatable Samar name, but she was not prepared for what was actually given. He opened his mouth and gave what started out as a deep-voiced shout, then soared up screaming into a high register, then rose up and down the scale. Having given this startling performance, he swept grandly past both Kubiri and Katja into the dining room part of the suite.
"Is that his real name?" Katja asked.
"It is," said Kubiri, "but he is still playing a joke on you. Nobody uses full tonal pronunciation outside of poetry recitations."
"He does this on occasion," said the other Samar. "His short-name is Pagali, and it will be fine if you call him that."
The second Samar had dark brown fur, except for a few lighter patches, and he looked much younger than Pagali. His caftan was cream-colored, very similar, in fact, to the color of Katja's shirt. His hat was opposite to Pagali's in almost every way: it was small, with a small brim, and fit the head closely, although it, too, was tipped to the side. He gave his name, which started out as something like Zuvansanapuri--, and his short name, which was Ansani. Then they all joined Pagali at the table. The robotic steward, a more advanced and less boxy model than the one on the Ylfae ship, began putting appetizers in front of them.
The two Samar were apparently engineers. They had been on a tour of little-visited worlds, some of them even without Portals and Oracles, none of whom had full spacefaring ability, and some of whom had no spacefaring ability at all.
"Are there really any such worlds?" asked Katja in surprise.
"There are a great many, actually," Ansani said. "Especially in this Universe. They are part of the Alliance in some sense; despite not having an Oracle, they know of the Tanaver, and have at least some vague notion of the Alliance, to which they usually aspire."
"They would generally be worlds that need help before they can really take a place in the Alliance, but who for various reasons cannot simply be made Wards of Protectorates like the Ylfae," Kubiri said to Katja.
"The Ylfae!" snorted Pagali. "Making a society a Ward of the Ylfae is a good way to ruin them irrecoverably."
"Katja's people are Wards of the Ylfae," Kubiri said.
"The Ylfae are not as bad as Pagali suggests," Ansani said. "Their approach just lacks...nuances."
"Nuances of intelligence," said Pagali unrepentantly. "I have argued for years that we need to assign someone permanently to the Ylfae simply to make sure they don't ruin everything everywhere."
"It is true," said Kubiri reflectively, "that they sometimes fail to approach things sensibly. One of my earliest Consultations related to the Ylfae was helping to restore a small Ward. There was no intentional failure, and they intended only to help. But if you are a vast Protectorate with Guardianship responsibilities, you must make considerable effort to guarantee that your assistance is always cooperative, not in competition with the Ward. A society with fewer resources in direct competition with a society possessing more resources is in danger of being poisoned by the relationship as they are repeatedly outcompeted in competitions they cannot avoid. Use of intoxicants, suicide, violence, self-destructive behavior, can all begin to spread. The Ylfae tend not to be careful enough on this point. Tending civilizations is an artform they have not yet developed. They are better than they used to be."
"How did you solve the problem?" Ansani asked.
"I negotiated half a dozen economic treaties with other Protectorates, including the Ops, which was the one that turned the tide. Interstellar trade is never high-volume, but it can provide options that would not otherwise exist."
Another course was laid out by the steward. Ansani asked about Katja's story, and she summarized the events of the past few days. (Days! she thought. Only days!)
"What interests me especially," said Pagali, "is this building of ships by the Ylfae. That would be a fleet in the millions. And these are not minor ships, either."
"It fits with the way things have been moving for some time, though," said Ansani. Then, to Katja: "Protectorates have basic civil defense responsibilities. In practice these are generally quite minor: the occasional case of piracy, a large-scale emergency here and there. But it has become clear over a very long period of time that the Tanaver are increasingly giving emphasis to these responsibilities; the Oracles are making suggestions to improve anti-piracy systems and emergency preparedness on an extensive scale, and often to specifications well beyond anything that would ordinarily be required."
"It all points in one direction," said Pangali.
"What direction is that?" Katja asked.
"That the Tanaver are preparing the Alliance for war."
Katja looked blankly at him, then with equal blankness at the others. "War with whom?"
"That," Ansani said gravely, "is the right question." He looked thoughtful and began to hum.
Pagali and Kubiri both began to hum as well. Each hummed a different note, so together the three hummed something like a chord. Katja had any number of other questions, but it felt like it would be interrupting to ask them while they were all humming in deep thought. She wondered what it would be like to be in a room with many Samar in deep thought; a symphonic hum.
After a while the humming faded out, and Kubiri said, "In any case, the essential task remains the same."
Pagali nodded and said, "Through seasons without cease, rooting all transformation, beginning all emergence, the principle of receiving and giving."
Both Ansani and Kubiri nodded at this cryptic statement, so Katja supposed it was a quotation or allusion cognizable to the Samar. The discussion turned to other things, many of them above Katja's head, although she did enjoy Pagali's and Ansani's tales of developing tool cultures for societies with limited manual dexterity, and some of the other stories were quite funny, particularly when told by very expressive Samar faces. Much of it she would not remember later, but she always remembered one particular comment, which Ansani made in the course of talking about a particularly difficult Consultation on a system of dams.
"It was a new type of system for them, and they were very worried about it. They kept asking if it would really work, and kept raising objections, which we continually answered; but no matter how much we explained the system or assured them it would work, they kept coming back and asking if it would really work. Finally Pagali said, 'If it does not, I will take great enjoyment in mocking you for your incompetence, since that is the only way it could possibly fail.' Not diplomatic or tactful, but they stopped asking us. Sometimes the best diplomacy is cold and hard."
After the end of dinner, Katja napped -- she felt as if she were always sleeping, but the Samar, being sleepless and (it often seemed) untiring, never stopped, and she could not keep up with that. So she relaxed back in a chair and let them discuss the logistics of satellite deployment in asteroid-heavy regions and transactional densities for economic systems in spiral galaxies and all the other incomprehensible things toward which conversation among Samar naturally seemed to tend.
At the end of the evening (it was not actually 'evening' in any ordinary sense of the term, but it was impossible not to think of it as a long dinner party some holiday evening) Ansani and Pagali had to return to their ship to prepare for their Portal trip. As they stood saying their last goodbyes, Pagali held out his palms toward Kubiri and Katja and said:
"Kubiri and Katja, the Universes are vast, and it is likely we will never meet again. But if you should ever be on the Samar world of Svasa, and are able to travel to the Emerald Forest-lands to the north of the Undying Hills, visit if you can the village of Chitya-amara,in the northern part of the Forest, and ask for me, Pagali. And if I am there, I will take you to the High Forest Peak, from which you can see the whole of the Forest curving down below you, out to the shimmering Lake of Infinite Species of Fish. We will picnic on the mountain as the butterflies dance in the air, and we will speak of beautiful things."
Then Ansani held out his palms in the same way and said:
"Kubiri and Katja! The Universes are vast, and it is likely that we will never meet again. But if you should ever be on the Samar world of Gotisa, and are able to visit the western shores of the Sea of Blue-green Glass, stop at the village of Anita-ma-satya; it is easy to find, because it is known for its basaltic obelisk dedicated to Anjanam the Wise, marking the spot where she first worked out the mathematics of electromagnetic propagation. Ask for me, Ansani, and if I am there, I will take you out in a boat upon the Bay of Ordered Tranquillity. We will drink tea as we watch the sun set and the phosphorescent fish splash in the sea, and we will speak of beautiful things."
Then Kubiri also held out his palms toward Ansani and Pagali. He said:
"Pagali and Ansani, the Universes are vast, and it is likely that we will never meet again. But if you should ever be near the sixteenth moon of the second gas-giant planet of the Samar system of Nibiru, visit the domes there if you can. Ask for Kubiri, the son of Narsidi and Harsanam. If I am there, we will visit the Observatio Dome and look up at the vast multi-colored rings as the planet rises in the sky. There is a chorus that sings at that time, and we will quietly listen to them beneath the never-ending stars. And when they are done, we will speak of beautiful things."
Then Pagali and Ansani were gone, and Katja and Kubiri returned to their ship to wait their own Portal trip.
[1919]
The first of the new Samar was light-gray in color, almost powdery white. He looked quite old. He wore a caftan like Kubiri's, but of vivid orange and gold. It would have drawn the eye, except that he had on his head a truly remarkable hat. It was a great pluming thing, vividly purple, like a large violet mushroom, almost a third as tall as he was. It was decorated with gaudy feathers of white and purple. What was most fascinating about it, however, was the fact that it was tipped precariously to the side and constantly looked on the verge of falling off, when it wasn't on the verge of sweeping things off the walls or shelves.
"It is a delight to meet you both," he said gravely in a deep and mellifluous voice. "My name is--" Here Katja braced herself for a long and unrepeatable Samar name, but she was not prepared for what was actually given. He opened his mouth and gave what started out as a deep-voiced shout, then soared up screaming into a high register, then rose up and down the scale. Having given this startling performance, he swept grandly past both Kubiri and Katja into the dining room part of the suite.
"Is that his real name?" Katja asked.
"It is," said Kubiri, "but he is still playing a joke on you. Nobody uses full tonal pronunciation outside of poetry recitations."
"He does this on occasion," said the other Samar. "His short-name is Pagali, and it will be fine if you call him that."
The second Samar had dark brown fur, except for a few lighter patches, and he looked much younger than Pagali. His caftan was cream-colored, very similar, in fact, to the color of Katja's shirt. His hat was opposite to Pagali's in almost every way: it was small, with a small brim, and fit the head closely, although it, too, was tipped to the side. He gave his name, which started out as something like Zuvansanapuri--, and his short name, which was Ansani. Then they all joined Pagali at the table. The robotic steward, a more advanced and less boxy model than the one on the Ylfae ship, began putting appetizers in front of them.
The two Samar were apparently engineers. They had been on a tour of little-visited worlds, some of them even without Portals and Oracles, none of whom had full spacefaring ability, and some of whom had no spacefaring ability at all.
"Are there really any such worlds?" asked Katja in surprise.
"There are a great many, actually," Ansani said. "Especially in this Universe. They are part of the Alliance in some sense; despite not having an Oracle, they know of the Tanaver, and have at least some vague notion of the Alliance, to which they usually aspire."
"They would generally be worlds that need help before they can really take a place in the Alliance, but who for various reasons cannot simply be made Wards of Protectorates like the Ylfae," Kubiri said to Katja.
"The Ylfae!" snorted Pagali. "Making a society a Ward of the Ylfae is a good way to ruin them irrecoverably."
"Katja's people are Wards of the Ylfae," Kubiri said.
"The Ylfae are not as bad as Pagali suggests," Ansani said. "Their approach just lacks...nuances."
"Nuances of intelligence," said Pagali unrepentantly. "I have argued for years that we need to assign someone permanently to the Ylfae simply to make sure they don't ruin everything everywhere."
"It is true," said Kubiri reflectively, "that they sometimes fail to approach things sensibly. One of my earliest Consultations related to the Ylfae was helping to restore a small Ward. There was no intentional failure, and they intended only to help. But if you are a vast Protectorate with Guardianship responsibilities, you must make considerable effort to guarantee that your assistance is always cooperative, not in competition with the Ward. A society with fewer resources in direct competition with a society possessing more resources is in danger of being poisoned by the relationship as they are repeatedly outcompeted in competitions they cannot avoid. Use of intoxicants, suicide, violence, self-destructive behavior, can all begin to spread. The Ylfae tend not to be careful enough on this point. Tending civilizations is an artform they have not yet developed. They are better than they used to be."
"How did you solve the problem?" Ansani asked.
"I negotiated half a dozen economic treaties with other Protectorates, including the Ops, which was the one that turned the tide. Interstellar trade is never high-volume, but it can provide options that would not otherwise exist."
Another course was laid out by the steward. Ansani asked about Katja's story, and she summarized the events of the past few days. (Days! she thought. Only days!)
"What interests me especially," said Pagali, "is this building of ships by the Ylfae. That would be a fleet in the millions. And these are not minor ships, either."
"It fits with the way things have been moving for some time, though," said Ansani. Then, to Katja: "Protectorates have basic civil defense responsibilities. In practice these are generally quite minor: the occasional case of piracy, a large-scale emergency here and there. But it has become clear over a very long period of time that the Tanaver are increasingly giving emphasis to these responsibilities; the Oracles are making suggestions to improve anti-piracy systems and emergency preparedness on an extensive scale, and often to specifications well beyond anything that would ordinarily be required."
"It all points in one direction," said Pangali.
"What direction is that?" Katja asked.
"That the Tanaver are preparing the Alliance for war."
Katja looked blankly at him, then with equal blankness at the others. "War with whom?"
"That," Ansani said gravely, "is the right question." He looked thoughtful and began to hum.
Pagali and Kubiri both began to hum as well. Each hummed a different note, so together the three hummed something like a chord. Katja had any number of other questions, but it felt like it would be interrupting to ask them while they were all humming in deep thought. She wondered what it would be like to be in a room with many Samar in deep thought; a symphonic hum.
After a while the humming faded out, and Kubiri said, "In any case, the essential task remains the same."
Pagali nodded and said, "Through seasons without cease, rooting all transformation, beginning all emergence, the principle of receiving and giving."
Both Ansani and Kubiri nodded at this cryptic statement, so Katja supposed it was a quotation or allusion cognizable to the Samar. The discussion turned to other things, many of them above Katja's head, although she did enjoy Pagali's and Ansani's tales of developing tool cultures for societies with limited manual dexterity, and some of the other stories were quite funny, particularly when told by very expressive Samar faces. Much of it she would not remember later, but she always remembered one particular comment, which Ansani made in the course of talking about a particularly difficult Consultation on a system of dams.
"It was a new type of system for them, and they were very worried about it. They kept asking if it would really work, and kept raising objections, which we continually answered; but no matter how much we explained the system or assured them it would work, they kept coming back and asking if it would really work. Finally Pagali said, 'If it does not, I will take great enjoyment in mocking you for your incompetence, since that is the only way it could possibly fail.' Not diplomatic or tactful, but they stopped asking us. Sometimes the best diplomacy is cold and hard."
After the end of dinner, Katja napped -- she felt as if she were always sleeping, but the Samar, being sleepless and (it often seemed) untiring, never stopped, and she could not keep up with that. So she relaxed back in a chair and let them discuss the logistics of satellite deployment in asteroid-heavy regions and transactional densities for economic systems in spiral galaxies and all the other incomprehensible things toward which conversation among Samar naturally seemed to tend.
At the end of the evening (it was not actually 'evening' in any ordinary sense of the term, but it was impossible not to think of it as a long dinner party some holiday evening) Ansani and Pagali had to return to their ship to prepare for their Portal trip. As they stood saying their last goodbyes, Pagali held out his palms toward Kubiri and Katja and said:
"Kubiri and Katja, the Universes are vast, and it is likely we will never meet again. But if you should ever be on the Samar world of Svasa, and are able to travel to the Emerald Forest-lands to the north of the Undying Hills, visit if you can the village of Chitya-amara,in the northern part of the Forest, and ask for me, Pagali. And if I am there, I will take you to the High Forest Peak, from which you can see the whole of the Forest curving down below you, out to the shimmering Lake of Infinite Species of Fish. We will picnic on the mountain as the butterflies dance in the air, and we will speak of beautiful things."
Then Ansani held out his palms in the same way and said:
"Kubiri and Katja! The Universes are vast, and it is likely that we will never meet again. But if you should ever be on the Samar world of Gotisa, and are able to visit the western shores of the Sea of Blue-green Glass, stop at the village of Anita-ma-satya; it is easy to find, because it is known for its basaltic obelisk dedicated to Anjanam the Wise, marking the spot where she first worked out the mathematics of electromagnetic propagation. Ask for me, Ansani, and if I am there, I will take you out in a boat upon the Bay of Ordered Tranquillity. We will drink tea as we watch the sun set and the phosphorescent fish splash in the sea, and we will speak of beautiful things."
Then Kubiri also held out his palms toward Ansani and Pagali. He said:
"Pagali and Ansani, the Universes are vast, and it is likely that we will never meet again. But if you should ever be near the sixteenth moon of the second gas-giant planet of the Samar system of Nibiru, visit the domes there if you can. Ask for Kubiri, the son of Narsidi and Harsanam. If I am there, we will visit the Observatio Dome and look up at the vast multi-colored rings as the planet rises in the sky. There is a chorus that sings at that time, and we will quietly listen to them beneath the never-ending stars. And when they are done, we will speak of beautiful things."
Then Pagali and Ansani were gone, and Katja and Kubiri returned to their ship to wait their own Portal trip.
[1919]
1.9 Transitions (II)
The business of transition went quite smoothly. Katja sent the survey reports to the Taladac ship and they took their leave. She sent the same information via Portal to Sylvenia (with Kubiri's help), to help with trade negotiations. She and Kubiri catalogued faults, failures, malfunctions, ruptures, leaks, computer errors and glitches, parts in need of replacement. It was a long list. It was also tedious work, but after recent events that was almost a relief.
It was not until the new ship from Sylvenia had actually docked and she was standing waiting to greet her successor that she realized with something of a shock that it had slipped her mind entirely to send a message asking them to bring a few changes of clothes and other supplies for herself. At that point she decided she would decline the offer and would just return home. It was one thing to be stuck in the same clothes for a few days, and another thing entirely to continue as she had been for an indefinite period of time. If she left the station, off to who-knows-where, who could say when she would next have a chance to get a fresh set of clothes?
It was set, then. When her successor came out with his team, however, and he turned out to be none other than Helvi Hokomenen, she knew, with a sinking feeling, that she would accept Kubiri's offer, after all. If she went home, to Sola and Darre and all the others, she would always be restless. She had been getting restless before she came; if she went home now, it would feel like she had stopped her story arbitrarily instead of letting it close itself out, in a natural way. She hoped the natural end of the story would be the Island again, but everything seemed to point her out and out, away from home. She had already gone halfway across the galaxy; why not go a bit further? Why not follow the thread where it led?
She showed Helvi and his team around the station. She managed to beg a few supplies from them -- a bag, a small box of tooth-powder and a tooth-powder applicator, and a bath-whisk -- and, while it was not much, it made her feel far more cheerful than she had been. When you have almost nothing, tooth-powder is a splendid thing to gain. There is a passage in the Sylevid in which the son of Sylve sets off for a journey with various strange odds and ends from home, like a broom and some string. She felt very much like the Sylevid.
"All I need is a broom, a feather, and a bit of string, and I would be set for any adventure," she said to herself, and laughed.
And thus it was that she found herself again on the ship she had come in, chatting with Kubiri.
"So," she said, "when will I learn what this special mission is supposed to be?"
"As soon as I learn myself, you will know," he replied. "All I know at present is that we have to go to Universe One. Once we are there I should be given additional information for briefing you."
"Leaving the entire universe? Another novelty for me. What is involved in that?"
"Nothing very different from what you already know. The local Portal is not an inter-universal Portal; we will have to go from there to the Primary Galactic Portal, and then from there to the Cluster Hub, and then that one will allow us to transfer to a Cluster Hub in Universe One, from which we will then certainly have to transfer again. In the Portal system travel within a galaxy, travel between galaxies within the local supercluster, travel between superclusters within or outside the universe are all kept separate, for a number of reasons. Local Portals are almost usually in inhabited systems, while inter-universal Portals like the Cluster Hubs are best placed in uninhabited systems. The whole trip will certainly take about five or six days, at minimum."
"That seems rather involved."
"Boredom is the primary hazard of space travel," said Kubiri. "Everything is vast distances from everything else, and linear travel is limited by the relation between energy and momentum; Portals cannot be placed just anywhere; and even Portal-independent ships generally have significant limits. Spending hours and hours aboard a ship is unavoidable."
They talked for a long time. Kubiri spoke of many of the major Protectorates of the Alliance, names of which Katja had only just heard. The four Core Protectorates: Chaktai, Zezai, Limmer, and Samar; the Samar knew only fragments about the first three. Other significant Protectorates: the Ops, a civilization of three distinct samaroid species, spread throughout Universe Two and some of Universe Three; Involescence, a strange union of thousands of species, whose borders were unknown even to the Samar but who had vast monastery complexes taking up entire solar systems in Universes Two, Three, and Four; the Shagghia of Universe Four; other names she could not even have pronounced. He spoke, too, of the Myrian, not a Protectorate in the strict sense but recognized by the Alliance Charter; it was a vast system of machines that constructed Portals throughout the Universes. One grew up knowing in an abstract way the vastness of the Alliance, endless numbers of worlds bound together by Charter, by Oracle, by Portal. But the infinite detail was more difficult to appreciate if you had never experienced small portions of it, or talked with someone like Kubiri who had.
Katja in turn talked about various aspects of Sylven culture. She was somewhat embarrassed about it, since it all seemed so mundane to her; but Kubiri seemed interested in it all. And, perhaps, her culture was as strange to him as talk of the Ops was to her.
At one point, Katja asked Kubiri if he knew any games, and he tried to teach her a board game with an unpronounceable name -- something like Satyanankakrambachitali, except there were syllables in it that her voicebox could probably not have managed. It took several hours and by the end she had no better sense of the game than when she began. But she had known that she probably would not ever understand it when, trying to explain something that had happened five moves in, Kubiri had suggested that she not think of it as a game on a two-dimensional board, but as a game in four-dimensional space represented two-dimensionally by a projection onto the board. But it was not too bad; the conversation, at least, was interesting. They played a few Sylven games. Katja was embarrassed at the simplicity of some of them, and, indeed, Kubiri had only to play a game once, if even that, in order to win consistently from then on out. But he seemed to be intrigued by each one. The game he enjoyed most was a Sylven rummy game Katja put together with makeshift tiles.
"It is a competitive negotiation game with partially veiled resources!" he said delightedly, and went on not only to win, but to win so resoundingly that Katja had never lost so badly. She usually thought of herself as a fairly decent player, but she had nothing on Kubiri.
"I believe I will have to work up a discussion of this game for the Logic Society. It could easily be adapted for training."
"I have heard you talk about Logic Societies before. What are they?"
He considered the question a moment. "What is your most advanced form of educational institution?"
"You mean things like universities? I work -- worked -- for the Ecological Institute at the University of Sylvenia."
He opened his tablet and ran some kind of search. "Yes," he said after a moment, almost to himself. "Universities. I am aware of this kind of institution. Rigidly structured institution, modular curriculum, resource-intensive; effective, but due to its resource-dependence subject to cycles of development and collapse. Very good for species that have difficulty with sustained abstract thought." He closed the tablet. "A university is a good institution, but it would be utterly impracticable for the Samar. The resource drain we could easily absorb, but large portions of our most brilliant lights are scattered over the Universes of the Alliance. We need much more flexible institutions for education and research, which means we need highly developed correspondence networks. We are also more intensively eusocial than species like the Sylven; the rigidity of interaction in your universities would not suit us at all. So we have our Logic Societies. I am a member of two, one devoted primarily to economics and one primarily to diplomatic theory. We exchange memoirs and treatises, engage in extensive conversations and debates, design tutorials and primers for each other, cooperate on research projects. Swap stories." He pushed forward his lips in a Samar smile. "It is, in any case, the sort of thing we would have to rely upon, anyway. Performing our work for the Alliance, we are a civilization scattered through the heavens; the strain that puts on a people, the pressure towards deterioration and degeneration, is extraordinary. If we had only to consider ourselves, we would simply stay in our handful of systems in Universe Two and live quiet lives in pursuit of beauty. As it is, we need things like Logic Societies to counter the 'wear and tear', as you Syylven say, of Samar responsibilities under the Alliance Charter."
So they talked and played games to while away the time. Katja slept and sleepless Kubiri did his Private Consultations when she slept. Out from the Lin Ohuen Portal, to the Primary Galactic Portal, then to the Cluster Hub. The Cluster Hub consisted of two Portals, one connecting to the local galactic network, the other connecting to other Cluster Hubs; it also had a large space station. All three revolved at considerable distance around a lone star, small and pale in the distance. They docked at the space station.
"There is a market here," he said, checking his tablet. "We can get provisions, and now that I have an idea what kinds of things you prefer, meals should improve. Inter-universal transits are widely spaced, and our timing has not been excellent. However, it does give us plenty of time for something else, if you are interested. There are two other Samar currently waiting for their transit windows. It is Samar custom, when we upon come other Samar in the field, always to meet for a meal and conversation, if time permits. When you are scattered across universes, it is not a luxury but a necessity to seize any opportunity of interacting one can. Since you are a Tanaver Consultation, you are certainly invited."
"Thank you," said Katja. "I would relish the opportunity to get off this ship, even for a short time."
By this point she meant it very much.
[1820]
It was not until the new ship from Sylvenia had actually docked and she was standing waiting to greet her successor that she realized with something of a shock that it had slipped her mind entirely to send a message asking them to bring a few changes of clothes and other supplies for herself. At that point she decided she would decline the offer and would just return home. It was one thing to be stuck in the same clothes for a few days, and another thing entirely to continue as she had been for an indefinite period of time. If she left the station, off to who-knows-where, who could say when she would next have a chance to get a fresh set of clothes?
It was set, then. When her successor came out with his team, however, and he turned out to be none other than Helvi Hokomenen, she knew, with a sinking feeling, that she would accept Kubiri's offer, after all. If she went home, to Sola and Darre and all the others, she would always be restless. She had been getting restless before she came; if she went home now, it would feel like she had stopped her story arbitrarily instead of letting it close itself out, in a natural way. She hoped the natural end of the story would be the Island again, but everything seemed to point her out and out, away from home. She had already gone halfway across the galaxy; why not go a bit further? Why not follow the thread where it led?
She showed Helvi and his team around the station. She managed to beg a few supplies from them -- a bag, a small box of tooth-powder and a tooth-powder applicator, and a bath-whisk -- and, while it was not much, it made her feel far more cheerful than she had been. When you have almost nothing, tooth-powder is a splendid thing to gain. There is a passage in the Sylevid in which the son of Sylve sets off for a journey with various strange odds and ends from home, like a broom and some string. She felt very much like the Sylevid.
"All I need is a broom, a feather, and a bit of string, and I would be set for any adventure," she said to herself, and laughed.
And thus it was that she found herself again on the ship she had come in, chatting with Kubiri.
"So," she said, "when will I learn what this special mission is supposed to be?"
"As soon as I learn myself, you will know," he replied. "All I know at present is that we have to go to Universe One. Once we are there I should be given additional information for briefing you."
"Leaving the entire universe? Another novelty for me. What is involved in that?"
"Nothing very different from what you already know. The local Portal is not an inter-universal Portal; we will have to go from there to the Primary Galactic Portal, and then from there to the Cluster Hub, and then that one will allow us to transfer to a Cluster Hub in Universe One, from which we will then certainly have to transfer again. In the Portal system travel within a galaxy, travel between galaxies within the local supercluster, travel between superclusters within or outside the universe are all kept separate, for a number of reasons. Local Portals are almost usually in inhabited systems, while inter-universal Portals like the Cluster Hubs are best placed in uninhabited systems. The whole trip will certainly take about five or six days, at minimum."
"That seems rather involved."
"Boredom is the primary hazard of space travel," said Kubiri. "Everything is vast distances from everything else, and linear travel is limited by the relation between energy and momentum; Portals cannot be placed just anywhere; and even Portal-independent ships generally have significant limits. Spending hours and hours aboard a ship is unavoidable."
They talked for a long time. Kubiri spoke of many of the major Protectorates of the Alliance, names of which Katja had only just heard. The four Core Protectorates: Chaktai, Zezai, Limmer, and Samar; the Samar knew only fragments about the first three. Other significant Protectorates: the Ops, a civilization of three distinct samaroid species, spread throughout Universe Two and some of Universe Three; Involescence, a strange union of thousands of species, whose borders were unknown even to the Samar but who had vast monastery complexes taking up entire solar systems in Universes Two, Three, and Four; the Shagghia of Universe Four; other names she could not even have pronounced. He spoke, too, of the Myrian, not a Protectorate in the strict sense but recognized by the Alliance Charter; it was a vast system of machines that constructed Portals throughout the Universes. One grew up knowing in an abstract way the vastness of the Alliance, endless numbers of worlds bound together by Charter, by Oracle, by Portal. But the infinite detail was more difficult to appreciate if you had never experienced small portions of it, or talked with someone like Kubiri who had.
Katja in turn talked about various aspects of Sylven culture. She was somewhat embarrassed about it, since it all seemed so mundane to her; but Kubiri seemed interested in it all. And, perhaps, her culture was as strange to him as talk of the Ops was to her.
At one point, Katja asked Kubiri if he knew any games, and he tried to teach her a board game with an unpronounceable name -- something like Satyanankakrambachitali, except there were syllables in it that her voicebox could probably not have managed. It took several hours and by the end she had no better sense of the game than when she began. But she had known that she probably would not ever understand it when, trying to explain something that had happened five moves in, Kubiri had suggested that she not think of it as a game on a two-dimensional board, but as a game in four-dimensional space represented two-dimensionally by a projection onto the board. But it was not too bad; the conversation, at least, was interesting. They played a few Sylven games. Katja was embarrassed at the simplicity of some of them, and, indeed, Kubiri had only to play a game once, if even that, in order to win consistently from then on out. But he seemed to be intrigued by each one. The game he enjoyed most was a Sylven rummy game Katja put together with makeshift tiles.
"It is a competitive negotiation game with partially veiled resources!" he said delightedly, and went on not only to win, but to win so resoundingly that Katja had never lost so badly. She usually thought of herself as a fairly decent player, but she had nothing on Kubiri.
"I believe I will have to work up a discussion of this game for the Logic Society. It could easily be adapted for training."
"I have heard you talk about Logic Societies before. What are they?"
He considered the question a moment. "What is your most advanced form of educational institution?"
"You mean things like universities? I work -- worked -- for the Ecological Institute at the University of Sylvenia."
He opened his tablet and ran some kind of search. "Yes," he said after a moment, almost to himself. "Universities. I am aware of this kind of institution. Rigidly structured institution, modular curriculum, resource-intensive; effective, but due to its resource-dependence subject to cycles of development and collapse. Very good for species that have difficulty with sustained abstract thought." He closed the tablet. "A university is a good institution, but it would be utterly impracticable for the Samar. The resource drain we could easily absorb, but large portions of our most brilliant lights are scattered over the Universes of the Alliance. We need much more flexible institutions for education and research, which means we need highly developed correspondence networks. We are also more intensively eusocial than species like the Sylven; the rigidity of interaction in your universities would not suit us at all. So we have our Logic Societies. I am a member of two, one devoted primarily to economics and one primarily to diplomatic theory. We exchange memoirs and treatises, engage in extensive conversations and debates, design tutorials and primers for each other, cooperate on research projects. Swap stories." He pushed forward his lips in a Samar smile. "It is, in any case, the sort of thing we would have to rely upon, anyway. Performing our work for the Alliance, we are a civilization scattered through the heavens; the strain that puts on a people, the pressure towards deterioration and degeneration, is extraordinary. If we had only to consider ourselves, we would simply stay in our handful of systems in Universe Two and live quiet lives in pursuit of beauty. As it is, we need things like Logic Societies to counter the 'wear and tear', as you Syylven say, of Samar responsibilities under the Alliance Charter."
So they talked and played games to while away the time. Katja slept and sleepless Kubiri did his Private Consultations when she slept. Out from the Lin Ohuen Portal, to the Primary Galactic Portal, then to the Cluster Hub. The Cluster Hub consisted of two Portals, one connecting to the local galactic network, the other connecting to other Cluster Hubs; it also had a large space station. All three revolved at considerable distance around a lone star, small and pale in the distance. They docked at the space station.
"There is a market here," he said, checking his tablet. "We can get provisions, and now that I have an idea what kinds of things you prefer, meals should improve. Inter-universal transits are widely spaced, and our timing has not been excellent. However, it does give us plenty of time for something else, if you are interested. There are two other Samar currently waiting for their transit windows. It is Samar custom, when we upon come other Samar in the field, always to meet for a meal and conversation, if time permits. When you are scattered across universes, it is not a luxury but a necessity to seize any opportunity of interacting one can. Since you are a Tanaver Consultation, you are certainly invited."
"Thank you," said Katja. "I would relish the opportunity to get off this ship, even for a short time."
By this point she meant it very much.
[1820]
1.9 Transitions (I)
The shaft, previously just cool, suddenly seemed terribly cold.
Katja drew in a shaky breath. "Do you know what to do with it?"
There was a pause, a cruel and awful pause, then: I cannot see it very clearly, but it is not a sophisticated device. They would need something to trigger it, and a timer is unlikely. Kubiri suggests looking for an antenna.
She looked it over carefully, trying to recall anything she could from old classes on electronics. Some features she could identify, but it was not quite like any circuit she had ever seen. "I suppose that this S-shaped bar could be the antenna."
I concur.
"It seems to be attached by two wires to the rest of it. I think that having two may be a redundancy. Do you think we can remove it without setting it off?"
From what I can see, that seems probable; it is crude and they do not have seem to have anticipated that it would be discovered.
She took a deep breath and reached out her hand. It was shaking violently. She drew it back and, taking a deep breath, put it out again as she began the sanalassa of Flame:
Flame I know; before it was darkness,
cold and empty, fluid and swirling.
Then spark was struck, burst out from the cloud.
All things have within a subtle flame.
Flame joins with flame, threads interweaving
until it leaps out with whitest heat....
She carefully undid the wires and found that she was still holding her breath. When nothing happened, she said, "Do you think it is disarmed?"
No. But we may have bought time. Bring it out.
Katja took a deep breath again and continued the sanalassa of Fire as she carefully grabbed the device and began pulling it with her as she backed down the shaft. It had been easy enough moving forward, but she worried that she would be too slow backward. And progress certainly was slower, although she made good time.
Red fierceness, spark from Ohu, bright flame,
what cause have you to wreak havoc here?
They who wander dream of their own homes.
Why journey here? Where is your hearthstone?
You must hurry.
She increased her pace, and soon her legs were sticking out; she felt herself pulled out by powerful arms. Then Herri grabbed the device and, glancing at it astutely for a brief moment, turned and sped out of the room. Katja slid down to the floor and had to take another deep breath. Kubiri touched her shoulder and sat down beside her. He was looking at his tablet.
"The Winbaric are away," he said, "and Herri should be disarming the bomb as we speak. I have gone over all the motion sensor logs, and it seems very likely that it was the only one. I have notified the Taladac delegation of the problem. I have also uploaded a report for the Samar High Council to the Portal."
"How can you be so calm?"
He adjusted the angle on his fedora. "I have a different physiology. And while I have never actually dealt with a real-life situation like this, training for the field involves extensive simulations of various piratical situations. Since piratical actions are a defined crime in the Alliance Charter, it sometimes falls to us to investigate issues relevant to them."
She looked up at the ceiling. Like the walls it was pastel, but it was lightly speckled, like the shell of an egg.
"What will happen to the Winbaric?" she asked after a moment.
"The ones here will be hunted down by Herri. They cannot leave the system, because the Portal has now been set for limited communication only. By doing this they have committed a piratical action, and the Chaktai have full authority to enforce laws against piratical actions, both of the Charter itself and any local laws. Assuming they do not resist violently, they will be captured and turned over to the relevant authorities. Since they were an official delgation of the Winbaric, the Samar High Council will initiate a full inquiry to determine whether they were acting alone."
"Would you be doing the investigation?"
"No. It would be a conflict of interest. But such an investigation would in any case be merely a Samar Consultation; and I am currently involved in a Tanaver Consultation. Tanaver Consultations always take precedence."
Katja nodded, but then stopped, considering. "I am your Tanaver Consultation, though. Surely you are nearly done with me? The negotiations are over. I can hardly imagine that the Taladac will give the station over to the Winbaric after this incident."
"Nonetheless, it is never good to plan for the end of a Tanaver Consultation until it has actually ended."
They sat quietly for a moment. Then Herri returned.
It is disarmed. It was not difficult. He seemed disappointed at the lack of difficulty.
"It was intended to disperse a chemical poison slowly through the ventilation system."
Yes, Herri said indifferently. Poorly chosen. It would not have killed me.
"I would guess that they did not expect the Tanaver representative to be a Chaka."
Poor foresight. And it would likely not have killed any Samar, either; any artificially supplemented immune system should be able to handle it.
Kubiri considered this, humming. "I wonder if they knew that," he said finally. "Most people would not. It would be foolish to live a Samar alive as a witness; but it is foolish to kill a Samar as well. In either case it would be guaranteed that the crime would be discovered and punished. The Samar High Council would make it certain either way. It is baffling. I take it that you will be heading out now to hunt?"
They are insignificant prey; they will not be difficult. Herri looked down at her, his sly predatorial face sizing her up.
How are you doing? he asked.
"Recovering," she said. "I am really not used to this kind of excitement."
He looked at her with his usual expression of cool sarcastic amusement, then turned to look at Kubiri. They gazed at each other a long moment, then Kubiri said, "We are in agreement."
Herri bowed his head, then turned to Katja. I wish you well, little one, he said. And if all goes well, you and I will meet again beyond the Gates of Death.
Katja's blood ran cold at the phrase. Right roads may lead through the gates of death. But Herri simply turned and sped out.
Kubiri rose and looked down at her. "Are you ready for some news?"
"Try me."
"You are being replaced," he said. "The Tanaver have had the Samar designate a successor to you, and whoever it is should be arriving shortly."
Katja sighed. "I am not surprised," she said. "This has been largely a disaster. Just a few days and practically everything has happened but the station exploding."
"That it has," said Kubiri cheerfully. "But if you mean that it was a disaster because of you, then, if I may give some advice, you should not be so harsh with yourself. You were put into a difficult and baffling situation. Even I do not quite understand what has happened, and I certainly do not understand all of why it has happened. You are not being removed for any failure on your part. The Tanaver are instead giving you a choice. The one alternative is to return to Sylvenia, and take up your life again."
"And what is the other?"
"I have been empowered by the Tanaver, the Samar High Council, and the Council of Threefold Mothers to offer you a more challenging task, the completion of which would be of immeasurable benefit to the Alliance."
Katja stared at him. "I don't understand."
"Unfortunately, the task in question is of a kind whose nature is best not broadcast abroad. I do not even fully know it myself. The Tanaver apparently chose you to test you for precisely this task, without telling anyone."
"It was a test."
"Yes. I was not aware myself. I did begin to guess, however, when we discovered that the Tanaver negotiator would be a Chaka. They are not like samaroids; they are not a negotiating civilization at all. Males like Herri live to protect the Mothers at any cost, to obey the Mothers without hesitation, and to defend the Alliance against active enemies without and within. Negotiation is not a skill they ever have need to learn; their culture is not set up for it. And yet, here the Tanaver, who knew this better than any, had specifically chosen one for their negotiator. And this with all the other anomalies of the situation suggested that it was an artificial scenario."
"And the bomb?" asked Katja, somewhat more loudly than she intended.
"I don't think the Tanaver intended it," said the Samar. "I don't think they can anticipate to that degree of precision. And I honestly do not believe that they would put you in a situation you could not survive. But, again to be honest, who knows what the Tanaver know, or what purposes they might have? We can only speculate."
Katja considered. "I have to tell you, Kubiri, I am not thrilled at the idea of 'more challenging than pulling bombs from ventilator shafts'."
"Truly."
"What would you advise me to do?"
Kubiri looked more grave than usual and hummed for a moment. "It is clear that the easier path would be simpy to return home. You have performed your task here to the satisfaction of both Tanaver and Samar, and would receive an official expression of thanks from the Samar High Council. You have improved the situation of your people in their trade negotiations with the Ylfae. It is a good ending to a story."
"But I would never know what the other path would have been."
Kubiri spread his hands. "But that is the lot of all of us throughout our lives. Nonetheless, we can know this as well: however inscrutable they may be, neither the Tanaver nor the Samar High Council ever do anything without good reason. If you were approved for this task it is because you are the right person for it. Given the test, it would no doubt be difficult and dangerous; you may not even survive it. But you were selected for a reason."
"Right roads may lead through the gates of death," murmured Katja.
"Truly. But it is important that it be the right road, and it can only be so if you choose it for the right reason. It is not your task to go here and there as the Samar or the Tanaver dictate; you have your own destiny, and that is to live a beautiful life, fit for a Sylven. That is the only thing that matters."
"Do I have to decide now?"
"Not at all. We have minor business to finish with the Ylfae, and we must prepare the station to hand over to your successor. Only then will we definitely need to know your decision."
[1880]
Katja drew in a shaky breath. "Do you know what to do with it?"
There was a pause, a cruel and awful pause, then: I cannot see it very clearly, but it is not a sophisticated device. They would need something to trigger it, and a timer is unlikely. Kubiri suggests looking for an antenna.
She looked it over carefully, trying to recall anything she could from old classes on electronics. Some features she could identify, but it was not quite like any circuit she had ever seen. "I suppose that this S-shaped bar could be the antenna."
I concur.
"It seems to be attached by two wires to the rest of it. I think that having two may be a redundancy. Do you think we can remove it without setting it off?"
From what I can see, that seems probable; it is crude and they do not have seem to have anticipated that it would be discovered.
She took a deep breath and reached out her hand. It was shaking violently. She drew it back and, taking a deep breath, put it out again as she began the sanalassa of Flame:
Flame I know; before it was darkness,
cold and empty, fluid and swirling.
Then spark was struck, burst out from the cloud.
All things have within a subtle flame.
Flame joins with flame, threads interweaving
until it leaps out with whitest heat....
She carefully undid the wires and found that she was still holding her breath. When nothing happened, she said, "Do you think it is disarmed?"
No. But we may have bought time. Bring it out.
Katja took a deep breath again and continued the sanalassa of Fire as she carefully grabbed the device and began pulling it with her as she backed down the shaft. It had been easy enough moving forward, but she worried that she would be too slow backward. And progress certainly was slower, although she made good time.
Red fierceness, spark from Ohu, bright flame,
what cause have you to wreak havoc here?
They who wander dream of their own homes.
Why journey here? Where is your hearthstone?
You must hurry.
She increased her pace, and soon her legs were sticking out; she felt herself pulled out by powerful arms. Then Herri grabbed the device and, glancing at it astutely for a brief moment, turned and sped out of the room. Katja slid down to the floor and had to take another deep breath. Kubiri touched her shoulder and sat down beside her. He was looking at his tablet.
"The Winbaric are away," he said, "and Herri should be disarming the bomb as we speak. I have gone over all the motion sensor logs, and it seems very likely that it was the only one. I have notified the Taladac delegation of the problem. I have also uploaded a report for the Samar High Council to the Portal."
"How can you be so calm?"
He adjusted the angle on his fedora. "I have a different physiology. And while I have never actually dealt with a real-life situation like this, training for the field involves extensive simulations of various piratical situations. Since piratical actions are a defined crime in the Alliance Charter, it sometimes falls to us to investigate issues relevant to them."
She looked up at the ceiling. Like the walls it was pastel, but it was lightly speckled, like the shell of an egg.
"What will happen to the Winbaric?" she asked after a moment.
"The ones here will be hunted down by Herri. They cannot leave the system, because the Portal has now been set for limited communication only. By doing this they have committed a piratical action, and the Chaktai have full authority to enforce laws against piratical actions, both of the Charter itself and any local laws. Assuming they do not resist violently, they will be captured and turned over to the relevant authorities. Since they were an official delgation of the Winbaric, the Samar High Council will initiate a full inquiry to determine whether they were acting alone."
"Would you be doing the investigation?"
"No. It would be a conflict of interest. But such an investigation would in any case be merely a Samar Consultation; and I am currently involved in a Tanaver Consultation. Tanaver Consultations always take precedence."
Katja nodded, but then stopped, considering. "I am your Tanaver Consultation, though. Surely you are nearly done with me? The negotiations are over. I can hardly imagine that the Taladac will give the station over to the Winbaric after this incident."
"Nonetheless, it is never good to plan for the end of a Tanaver Consultation until it has actually ended."
They sat quietly for a moment. Then Herri returned.
It is disarmed. It was not difficult. He seemed disappointed at the lack of difficulty.
"It was intended to disperse a chemical poison slowly through the ventilation system."
Yes, Herri said indifferently. Poorly chosen. It would not have killed me.
"I would guess that they did not expect the Tanaver representative to be a Chaka."
Poor foresight. And it would likely not have killed any Samar, either; any artificially supplemented immune system should be able to handle it.
Kubiri considered this, humming. "I wonder if they knew that," he said finally. "Most people would not. It would be foolish to live a Samar alive as a witness; but it is foolish to kill a Samar as well. In either case it would be guaranteed that the crime would be discovered and punished. The Samar High Council would make it certain either way. It is baffling. I take it that you will be heading out now to hunt?"
They are insignificant prey; they will not be difficult. Herri looked down at her, his sly predatorial face sizing her up.
How are you doing? he asked.
"Recovering," she said. "I am really not used to this kind of excitement."
He looked at her with his usual expression of cool sarcastic amusement, then turned to look at Kubiri. They gazed at each other a long moment, then Kubiri said, "We are in agreement."
Herri bowed his head, then turned to Katja. I wish you well, little one, he said. And if all goes well, you and I will meet again beyond the Gates of Death.
Katja's blood ran cold at the phrase. Right roads may lead through the gates of death. But Herri simply turned and sped out.
Kubiri rose and looked down at her. "Are you ready for some news?"
"Try me."
"You are being replaced," he said. "The Tanaver have had the Samar designate a successor to you, and whoever it is should be arriving shortly."
Katja sighed. "I am not surprised," she said. "This has been largely a disaster. Just a few days and practically everything has happened but the station exploding."
"That it has," said Kubiri cheerfully. "But if you mean that it was a disaster because of you, then, if I may give some advice, you should not be so harsh with yourself. You were put into a difficult and baffling situation. Even I do not quite understand what has happened, and I certainly do not understand all of why it has happened. You are not being removed for any failure on your part. The Tanaver are instead giving you a choice. The one alternative is to return to Sylvenia, and take up your life again."
"And what is the other?"
"I have been empowered by the Tanaver, the Samar High Council, and the Council of Threefold Mothers to offer you a more challenging task, the completion of which would be of immeasurable benefit to the Alliance."
Katja stared at him. "I don't understand."
"Unfortunately, the task in question is of a kind whose nature is best not broadcast abroad. I do not even fully know it myself. The Tanaver apparently chose you to test you for precisely this task, without telling anyone."
"It was a test."
"Yes. I was not aware myself. I did begin to guess, however, when we discovered that the Tanaver negotiator would be a Chaka. They are not like samaroids; they are not a negotiating civilization at all. Males like Herri live to protect the Mothers at any cost, to obey the Mothers without hesitation, and to defend the Alliance against active enemies without and within. Negotiation is not a skill they ever have need to learn; their culture is not set up for it. And yet, here the Tanaver, who knew this better than any, had specifically chosen one for their negotiator. And this with all the other anomalies of the situation suggested that it was an artificial scenario."
"And the bomb?" asked Katja, somewhat more loudly than she intended.
"I don't think the Tanaver intended it," said the Samar. "I don't think they can anticipate to that degree of precision. And I honestly do not believe that they would put you in a situation you could not survive. But, again to be honest, who knows what the Tanaver know, or what purposes they might have? We can only speculate."
Katja considered. "I have to tell you, Kubiri, I am not thrilled at the idea of 'more challenging than pulling bombs from ventilator shafts'."
"Truly."
"What would you advise me to do?"
Kubiri looked more grave than usual and hummed for a moment. "It is clear that the easier path would be simpy to return home. You have performed your task here to the satisfaction of both Tanaver and Samar, and would receive an official expression of thanks from the Samar High Council. You have improved the situation of your people in their trade negotiations with the Ylfae. It is a good ending to a story."
"But I would never know what the other path would have been."
Kubiri spread his hands. "But that is the lot of all of us throughout our lives. Nonetheless, we can know this as well: however inscrutable they may be, neither the Tanaver nor the Samar High Council ever do anything without good reason. If you were approved for this task it is because you are the right person for it. Given the test, it would no doubt be difficult and dangerous; you may not even survive it. But you were selected for a reason."
"Right roads may lead through the gates of death," murmured Katja.
"Truly. But it is important that it be the right road, and it can only be so if you choose it for the right reason. It is not your task to go here and there as the Samar or the Tanaver dictate; you have your own destiny, and that is to live a beautiful life, fit for a Sylven. That is the only thing that matters."
"Do I have to decide now?"
"Not at all. We have minor business to finish with the Ylfae, and we must prepare the station to hand over to your successor. Only then will we definitely need to know your decision."
[1880]
1.8 The Thing That Can Explode (II)
The investigation, such that it was, turned out to be somewhat disappointing. The winbaric had walked down to an empty room, stayed for some time, and then left. As a room it was not different from any other room in the station; it was in the main trunk of the station, and was just a small box with the usual pastel walls. Very puzzling.
She then met up with Kubiri for lunch with the Taladac delegation. Their ship looked almost identical to the one in which she and Kubiri had arrived at the station, although the color scheme was slightly different. As on the charter, they were served by a robotic steward, a little machine with arms. Much of the food was very strangely spiced and not very palatable; Katja wondered whether Kubiri had perhaps tweaked the system aboard their own ship to make it render food more edible for Syylven. The conversation, which was, of course, in Simplified Samar, was also extraordinarily dull, in part because the Ylfae liked to give long speeches before every course, and extraordinarily irritating, in part because they continued to try to talk only to Kubiri. The two sides, dull and irritating, fused when they did so, because they continually sprinkled their conversation with elaborate compliments and perorations on the excellence of the Samar. It was so over the top that Katja wondered after a while what Kubiri might have said to them to make them so intent on flattery. Nonetheless, parts of the conversation were of some interest. According to the delegates, the entire Ylfae civilization was embarked on a massive set of construction projects in response to an Oracle of the Tanaver. The project consisted of vast ships capable of jumping from galaxy to galaxy without a Portal and of carrying tens of thousands of people and sustaining them indefinitely without outside supplies.
"A strange request, and it is a difficult problem to make such large ships Portal-independent," said one of the delegates in his slow, over-precise Simplified Samar, "but, adding to this, some of the specifications are unusually difficult. We have had to make several major scientific advances simply in order to approximate them. The Tanaver were quite specific and precise about what was required. These ships need to be able to endure extreme conditions, even to the point of being able to withstand massive explosions."
"We have speculated that they are supposed to be anti-piracy ships capable of withstanding any attack," said the second; "that is why they need to be Portal-independent and so strong."
"Piracy is difficult to root out, because space is so vast that pirates can easily hide. Thus it would make sense to have a fleet of ships capable of long searches and enduring attack."
"Have you thought of asking the Tanaver?" Katja asked.
They did not deign to look at her, but, addressing themselves to Kubiri, they answered the question nonetheless. "They would not respond to such questions. But at the same time, one does not refuse a Tanaver request; and in the course of fulfilling it we have learned much."
Every galaxy in the Ylfae Commonwealth was involved in the project. "Each one is trying to build a ship to the proper specifications before the others; there would be much prestige in being able to complete it to specification early. We were doing well, one of the best, despite not being a wholly Ylfae galaxy. And we are very close, we think. But we have recently stalled. We have begun to experience shortages, which have greatly increased the expense. We are in very short supply of many elements that are necessary to complete the systems; 31, 39, 41, 46, 79, 111, 118, and many others. Our systems are not very rich in many of these, some are necessarily synthetic, and everything has to be tested until we can get the proper specifications. In principle we could gather it all together, but the expense is already well in excess of what we hoped, and will only become more expensive."
"It is interesting you should say that," Katja replied. "This system happens to be very rich in at least some of these elements. Perhaps at some point you could help the Syylven to build up a mining system for them." For the first time they were actually looking at her. "If you would give us a list of the elements in which you are interested, I can send you copies of the reports from the original Winbaric surveys. And the Sylven Commissioners are still in negotiation with some of your tribes over various trade treaties; I have no doubt that they would be interested in adding the question to those discussions."
"We will certainly send you the list," said one of the delegates.
The conversation passed to some light chit-chat, but Katja noticed that while they still primarily directed their attention to Kubiri, they now included her in the conversation. Kubiri, who was magnificently adept at directing the conversation where he wanted it to go, brought it to the subject of the Winbaric behavior. The Taladac agreed that the Winbaric were acting strangely.
"But," said one of the Taladac, putting his fingers near his face in what was perhaps the Ylfae equivalent of a shrug, "they are Tura, and this is not unexpected with Tura. They are a selfish and self-centered tribe, always concerned more with their own feelings and opinions than with understanding the greater scheme of things. It is difficult to reason with them on the best of days."
"And their sense of symbolism is defective, too," said the other. "Inconsistent and simplistic. They are erratic dreamers. They do not have discipline, but act only on impulse and their unruly passions."
That was all they said about the Winbaric, because they immediately started branching off into all the faults of all the non-Taladac tribes of Ylfae (the excessive sensitivity of the Talvati, the practical uselessness of the Remoal, the arrogance of the Sima, and so forth) and the superiority of the Taladac to them all. This they attributed to the superiority of their progenitors, which then led immediately to an arcane discussion of the finer points of Ylfae sacred progonology and a vivacious argument between the two of them over whether it was better to trace the various relevant genealogies matrilineally or patrilineally. This was difficult to break into, but Kubiri managed to get himself and Katja out of the discussion and out of the ship before it had advanced too far.
As they walked back to command control, Kubiri looked at Katja appraisingly. "I take it," he said, "that when the Taladac receive the reports, they will find that the system is indeed rich in some of the elements they mentioned."
"Well," said Katja, somewhat embarrassed. "I had only seen the report for element 41, and it did say that there was an unusual quantity of it in the system. It seemed it was worth a try."
"It was a reasonable move. At the very least it will raise the question for them whether they want the system developed by the Syylven, who will give good prices for trade concessions, or if they want to give it to the Winbaric, who seem unwilling to commit much to the system and are often antagonistic to the Taladac majority in this galaxy."
"Half of diplomacy is showing that doing the right thing is more pleasant than it appears."
Kubiri thrust out his lips in a Samar smile. "Truly. And we have confirmation that the Winbaric are not approaching this negotiation normally."
Katja told him about the result of her investigation. "But I've been thinking," she said, "that perhaps there is more there than meets the eye. Perhaps there is a special compartment or--" she thought about the room a moment then said, "or the ventilation shaft."
The Samar stopped and hummed. Then he said, "There are only three obvious reasons to put something in a ventilation shaft: to hide something, to spy on someone, or to harm someone. Perhaps there are others, but we cannot assume any of them until we have ruled out mischief. I will go find 'Herri' and meet you there."
They split up and Katja returned to the small room. Sure enough, there was a ventilation shaft in the corner. The grate covering it seemed loose; she was easily able to remove it. It was low and broad, and since it was large enough for her to fit inside, she put her hand in and looked around. It was dark, but when she pushed in a bit, small lights lit along the edges, no doubt originally designed for maintenance. She wiggled even farther inside.
She had once gone spelunking, and this was much like it, but with a smoother path and more shoulder-room. Before long she had managed to get quite far. It was quite cool, like Sylvenian spring, and she found it pleasantly refreshing. The air was blowing, very lightly, from behind her: the shaft was not an outflowing shaft but an inflowing shaft, and seemed to be primarily for the purpose of keeping air circulating rather than for any vigorous form of climate control.
The Wenbaric have been attempting to leave the station, a calm, cool, powerful voice said right next to her, causing her to jump, or, at least, jump as much as one can in a ventilator shaft. It was a familiar voice and it was perhaps not quite accurate to say that it was beside her, rather than just inside her skull.
"Herri?" she said. "Can you hear me?"
I do not need to hear you, he replied with amusement. Then: Kubiri says that they have been working since this morning on circumventing the security protocols in place and are beginning to override his current attempts to keep them docked the station. He has instituted countermeasures, but they know the system better than he does, and he does not know how much longer he can keep them.
"I think I see something ahead," said Katja. It was just beyond a juncture in the ducts; three joined together and just beyond them the whole thing ended in a screen, slightly dusty by now. Beside this screen was something on wheels, with lots of wires. "It is some sort of device," she said, as she wriggled closer.
Yes.
She stopped. "Can you see it somehow?"
Of course; I can see some of what you see. The optimal predator is the one who knows something of what it is like to be the prey.
"That is a bit disturbing," she replied. She moved closer to the device. "I have no idea what this is," she said. "Do you?"
Of course, Herri said, the voice in her head as cool and calm and sarcastically amused as ever. It is a bomb.
[1825]
She then met up with Kubiri for lunch with the Taladac delegation. Their ship looked almost identical to the one in which she and Kubiri had arrived at the station, although the color scheme was slightly different. As on the charter, they were served by a robotic steward, a little machine with arms. Much of the food was very strangely spiced and not very palatable; Katja wondered whether Kubiri had perhaps tweaked the system aboard their own ship to make it render food more edible for Syylven. The conversation, which was, of course, in Simplified Samar, was also extraordinarily dull, in part because the Ylfae liked to give long speeches before every course, and extraordinarily irritating, in part because they continued to try to talk only to Kubiri. The two sides, dull and irritating, fused when they did so, because they continually sprinkled their conversation with elaborate compliments and perorations on the excellence of the Samar. It was so over the top that Katja wondered after a while what Kubiri might have said to them to make them so intent on flattery. Nonetheless, parts of the conversation were of some interest. According to the delegates, the entire Ylfae civilization was embarked on a massive set of construction projects in response to an Oracle of the Tanaver. The project consisted of vast ships capable of jumping from galaxy to galaxy without a Portal and of carrying tens of thousands of people and sustaining them indefinitely without outside supplies.
"A strange request, and it is a difficult problem to make such large ships Portal-independent," said one of the delegates in his slow, over-precise Simplified Samar, "but, adding to this, some of the specifications are unusually difficult. We have had to make several major scientific advances simply in order to approximate them. The Tanaver were quite specific and precise about what was required. These ships need to be able to endure extreme conditions, even to the point of being able to withstand massive explosions."
"We have speculated that they are supposed to be anti-piracy ships capable of withstanding any attack," said the second; "that is why they need to be Portal-independent and so strong."
"Piracy is difficult to root out, because space is so vast that pirates can easily hide. Thus it would make sense to have a fleet of ships capable of long searches and enduring attack."
"Have you thought of asking the Tanaver?" Katja asked.
They did not deign to look at her, but, addressing themselves to Kubiri, they answered the question nonetheless. "They would not respond to such questions. But at the same time, one does not refuse a Tanaver request; and in the course of fulfilling it we have learned much."
Every galaxy in the Ylfae Commonwealth was involved in the project. "Each one is trying to build a ship to the proper specifications before the others; there would be much prestige in being able to complete it to specification early. We were doing well, one of the best, despite not being a wholly Ylfae galaxy. And we are very close, we think. But we have recently stalled. We have begun to experience shortages, which have greatly increased the expense. We are in very short supply of many elements that are necessary to complete the systems; 31, 39, 41, 46, 79, 111, 118, and many others. Our systems are not very rich in many of these, some are necessarily synthetic, and everything has to be tested until we can get the proper specifications. In principle we could gather it all together, but the expense is already well in excess of what we hoped, and will only become more expensive."
"It is interesting you should say that," Katja replied. "This system happens to be very rich in at least some of these elements. Perhaps at some point you could help the Syylven to build up a mining system for them." For the first time they were actually looking at her. "If you would give us a list of the elements in which you are interested, I can send you copies of the reports from the original Winbaric surveys. And the Sylven Commissioners are still in negotiation with some of your tribes over various trade treaties; I have no doubt that they would be interested in adding the question to those discussions."
"We will certainly send you the list," said one of the delegates.
The conversation passed to some light chit-chat, but Katja noticed that while they still primarily directed their attention to Kubiri, they now included her in the conversation. Kubiri, who was magnificently adept at directing the conversation where he wanted it to go, brought it to the subject of the Winbaric behavior. The Taladac agreed that the Winbaric were acting strangely.
"But," said one of the Taladac, putting his fingers near his face in what was perhaps the Ylfae equivalent of a shrug, "they are Tura, and this is not unexpected with Tura. They are a selfish and self-centered tribe, always concerned more with their own feelings and opinions than with understanding the greater scheme of things. It is difficult to reason with them on the best of days."
"And their sense of symbolism is defective, too," said the other. "Inconsistent and simplistic. They are erratic dreamers. They do not have discipline, but act only on impulse and their unruly passions."
That was all they said about the Winbaric, because they immediately started branching off into all the faults of all the non-Taladac tribes of Ylfae (the excessive sensitivity of the Talvati, the practical uselessness of the Remoal, the arrogance of the Sima, and so forth) and the superiority of the Taladac to them all. This they attributed to the superiority of their progenitors, which then led immediately to an arcane discussion of the finer points of Ylfae sacred progonology and a vivacious argument between the two of them over whether it was better to trace the various relevant genealogies matrilineally or patrilineally. This was difficult to break into, but Kubiri managed to get himself and Katja out of the discussion and out of the ship before it had advanced too far.
As they walked back to command control, Kubiri looked at Katja appraisingly. "I take it," he said, "that when the Taladac receive the reports, they will find that the system is indeed rich in some of the elements they mentioned."
"Well," said Katja, somewhat embarrassed. "I had only seen the report for element 41, and it did say that there was an unusual quantity of it in the system. It seemed it was worth a try."
"It was a reasonable move. At the very least it will raise the question for them whether they want the system developed by the Syylven, who will give good prices for trade concessions, or if they want to give it to the Winbaric, who seem unwilling to commit much to the system and are often antagonistic to the Taladac majority in this galaxy."
"Half of diplomacy is showing that doing the right thing is more pleasant than it appears."
Kubiri thrust out his lips in a Samar smile. "Truly. And we have confirmation that the Winbaric are not approaching this negotiation normally."
Katja told him about the result of her investigation. "But I've been thinking," she said, "that perhaps there is more there than meets the eye. Perhaps there is a special compartment or--" she thought about the room a moment then said, "or the ventilation shaft."
The Samar stopped and hummed. Then he said, "There are only three obvious reasons to put something in a ventilation shaft: to hide something, to spy on someone, or to harm someone. Perhaps there are others, but we cannot assume any of them until we have ruled out mischief. I will go find 'Herri' and meet you there."
They split up and Katja returned to the small room. Sure enough, there was a ventilation shaft in the corner. The grate covering it seemed loose; she was easily able to remove it. It was low and broad, and since it was large enough for her to fit inside, she put her hand in and looked around. It was dark, but when she pushed in a bit, small lights lit along the edges, no doubt originally designed for maintenance. She wiggled even farther inside.
She had once gone spelunking, and this was much like it, but with a smoother path and more shoulder-room. Before long she had managed to get quite far. It was quite cool, like Sylvenian spring, and she found it pleasantly refreshing. The air was blowing, very lightly, from behind her: the shaft was not an outflowing shaft but an inflowing shaft, and seemed to be primarily for the purpose of keeping air circulating rather than for any vigorous form of climate control.
The Wenbaric have been attempting to leave the station, a calm, cool, powerful voice said right next to her, causing her to jump, or, at least, jump as much as one can in a ventilator shaft. It was a familiar voice and it was perhaps not quite accurate to say that it was beside her, rather than just inside her skull.
"Herri?" she said. "Can you hear me?"
I do not need to hear you, he replied with amusement. Then: Kubiri says that they have been working since this morning on circumventing the security protocols in place and are beginning to override his current attempts to keep them docked the station. He has instituted countermeasures, but they know the system better than he does, and he does not know how much longer he can keep them.
"I think I see something ahead," said Katja. It was just beyond a juncture in the ducts; three joined together and just beyond them the whole thing ended in a screen, slightly dusty by now. Beside this screen was something on wheels, with lots of wires. "It is some sort of device," she said, as she wriggled closer.
Yes.
She stopped. "Can you see it somehow?"
Of course; I can see some of what you see. The optimal predator is the one who knows something of what it is like to be the prey.
"That is a bit disturbing," she replied. She moved closer to the device. "I have no idea what this is," she said. "Do you?"
Of course, Herri said, the voice in her head as cool and calm and sarcastically amused as ever. It is a bomb.
[1825]
1.8 The Thing That Can Explode (I)
The dream happened again, but this time in a different order: Weeping Woman, this time with a metallic hand rising out of the surface of the pool; Water; Vine God, this time as bright as the sun; Fire. And she was burning alive. It was not quite like burning your finger on a candle flame or hot surface. It was a fire that seemed to burn from within. When it became unbearable, she woke with a start. Sighing, she looked up at the ceiling, wondering when her life would start making any sense. She tried to replay the events of the previous day in her head, and it did not help at all. All the strange, interminable Ylfae talk about dreams seemed even stranger now than it had the day before.
She remembered a suvo (she had not realized until then how much she had missed her routine of a suvo a day):
Words have both surface and deep currents;
The wise will look for all the meaning.
She remembered the name of one of the files she had looked at: "Countervailing Oneiric Indications". She should talk to Kubiri more about the Ylfae and dreams. She had no knowledge of Ylfae customs or expectations, but she could not imagine that anyone would argue for hours about a subject unless they thought it was somehow relevant. Surface, dreams; deep currents -- what?
After she showered and was walking down to the kitchen, she tried to remember a song from the Venahana, any song, just to have a day that at least started off as a day in Katja's life should start.
The stars are bright out, the blossoms glow,
here below the flowers scent the breeze;
I am far from home, but hopes still bloom,
perfuming my thought.
The stars are bright out, the night is sweet,
upon the apple tree apples grow.
I am far from home, but truth may shine,
brightening my thought.
She took a deep breath. She could face the day, insane Ylfae, sarcastic predators, and a job she had never asked for and whose purpose she did not comprehend. But she still wished she had a pot of tea. Hot water would be possible. She wondered if there was anything tea-like still in the ship stores; they had only brought the things that would be most obviously useful.
Thinking thoughts like these she came to her office, where she had a nice surprise. On her desk was a flower, yellow with black flowing lines. It was made of paper, what seemed to be an old report on valves written in Ylfae, cunningly folded to look like a rose. She looked at it closely in something like awe; she had never seen anything like it. She wondered how it was done, but did not dare unfold it for fear she would be unable to fold it back again.
The dream of the morning was mostly cleared away, still there in memory, but no longer a source of unease.
She went to find Kubiri, and found him in command control. Several of the monitors were scrolling information at prodigious speed; Kubiri was watching them intently as his agile hands flew over the controls on the console. When Katja came and sat beside him, the monitors and hands alike slowed, then stopped, and he turned toward her.
"How was your sleep-phase?" he asked cheerfully.
"Not all that pleasant; I would rather not talk about it. Were you the one who put the folded flower on my desk?"
"Yes," he said. "I came across a great stack of sheets, both paper and plastic. None of it was important: old information, frivolous reports. So I put a sheet or two to new use."
"It was lovely."
He put up his hands in a gesture she did not recognize. "I have always been good at geometry, ever since my aunt first showed me how to fold paper in order to do proofs."
"Do you spend all your nights just speeding through computer records?" she asked, gesturing at the console. "Setting aside, of course, bouts of paper-folding."
"It is inefficient to spend all one's time on only one project," he replied, pushing his lips out humorously. "I have my docket of Private Consultations, ideas I am working out for various Logic Societies of which I am a member, simulations I construct and run, puzzles I investigate. For instance, the Winbaric delegation spent part of the night walking the halls. They seem familiar with the layout of the station, and were able to override certain doors that had been sealed shut."
"That's a little disturbing." Katja considered this a moment. "Is there any way you can bring up the functions from my desk here?"
"I can connect you with your desk directly." He did so, and Katja entered her passcode for the desk. As she searched for what she wanted, she asked, "Tell me, Kubiri, did anything from yesterday's negotiations make any sense to you? What was all the talk about dreams?"
"It need not have anything to do with dreams themselves; it is just that much of the Ylfae vocabulary for discussing symbolisms is based on various dream-practices that the Ylfae use to heighten their already considerable ideasthetic tendencies. That is, they do not just have ideas, they have certain sensory experiences in response to them: recognizing a mathematical pattern may be associated with a sound, the meaning of a word may be associated with a color, the idea of a virtue may be associated with a visible pattern of lines, and so on. At the same time, and partly because of this biological fact that all Ylfae share to some extent, getting symbolisms right is very important for Ylfae social interaction. In this case, the Taladac were expressing good faith as mediators by putting forward the symbolism they associate with their understanding of the situation, and the Winbaric began negotiation by trying to argue they should revise their symbolism. It is the Ylfae way of establishing common first principles; the Winbaric were attempting to argue that the Taladac should not see their position as one of neutrality or their goal in terms of deciding in favor of one party over the other, but should instead regard themselves as protecting a natural presumption in favor of local authorities, like the Winbaric themselves."
"So there was nothing unusual about it?"
Kubiri considered this carefully and began to hum his melodic one-note hum. Then he said, "It is very difficult for a non-Ylfae to follow all the nuances of Ylfae symbolic negotiation. But based on prior experience, I think the Winbaric were making arguments that would generally be regarded as weak or strained, and this seems confirmed by the responses of the Taladac, who seem to have been somewhat surprised that the Winbaric were making the arguments that they were."
"I get the feeling that none of the delegates are genuinely interested in negotiation."
"You are not alone, but it raises some puzzling questions. The Winbaric have no way of re-establishing control of the station except through negotiation. If they are not interested in negotiating, and yet are not conceding, then there is the problem of what their true goals are."
Katja finally found what she wanted. "These are the motion sensor logs for the station. In a full station they would not be very helpful for tracking anyone, because they are indiscriminate, but since we have almost no one on the station, we should be able to use it to discover exactly where they were and what they were doing. I noticed the motion sensors almost immediately, and knew there was some kind of archive for them; I just had to dig a bit to find how to access it." She studied the monitor a moment. "I should be able to find this. Would it be fine if I look into this before the negotiations?"
"It is your station," said Kubiri. "You may do whatever you wish, as long as you maintain the Rights of Hospitality under the Alliance Charter. I am here to assist you in whatever you think may need doing. If I may suggest, though, while you start your investigation, I could make an appointment with the Taladac delegation for lunch. While I cannot guarantee that it will be a pleasant meal, it might be helpful for getting an Ylfae view on whether the Winbaric are acting strangely and what their behavior might mean."
"Yes," said Katja reluctantly. "I suppose you are right. Do you think they will actually agree to lunch?"
"If they hesitate," Kubiri said drily, "I am sure they will have good reason, one that I will tell them I will gladly pass their reasons on to the Samar High Council."
"I see," said Katja with a smile. "They will no doubt take the hint."
Kubiri put his hands up in something like a shrug. "Most of diplomacy splits into two parts," he said. "The first is making people see that doing the right thing is easier and more pleasant than they think, and the second is making them see that doing the wrong thing is harder and less pleasant than it might seem. There are ways and ways of doing each."
[1554]
She remembered a suvo (she had not realized until then how much she had missed her routine of a suvo a day):
Words have both surface and deep currents;
The wise will look for all the meaning.
She remembered the name of one of the files she had looked at: "Countervailing Oneiric Indications". She should talk to Kubiri more about the Ylfae and dreams. She had no knowledge of Ylfae customs or expectations, but she could not imagine that anyone would argue for hours about a subject unless they thought it was somehow relevant. Surface, dreams; deep currents -- what?
After she showered and was walking down to the kitchen, she tried to remember a song from the Venahana, any song, just to have a day that at least started off as a day in Katja's life should start.
The stars are bright out, the blossoms glow,
here below the flowers scent the breeze;
I am far from home, but hopes still bloom,
perfuming my thought.
The stars are bright out, the night is sweet,
upon the apple tree apples grow.
I am far from home, but truth may shine,
brightening my thought.
She took a deep breath. She could face the day, insane Ylfae, sarcastic predators, and a job she had never asked for and whose purpose she did not comprehend. But she still wished she had a pot of tea. Hot water would be possible. She wondered if there was anything tea-like still in the ship stores; they had only brought the things that would be most obviously useful.
Thinking thoughts like these she came to her office, where she had a nice surprise. On her desk was a flower, yellow with black flowing lines. It was made of paper, what seemed to be an old report on valves written in Ylfae, cunningly folded to look like a rose. She looked at it closely in something like awe; she had never seen anything like it. She wondered how it was done, but did not dare unfold it for fear she would be unable to fold it back again.
The dream of the morning was mostly cleared away, still there in memory, but no longer a source of unease.
She went to find Kubiri, and found him in command control. Several of the monitors were scrolling information at prodigious speed; Kubiri was watching them intently as his agile hands flew over the controls on the console. When Katja came and sat beside him, the monitors and hands alike slowed, then stopped, and he turned toward her.
"How was your sleep-phase?" he asked cheerfully.
"Not all that pleasant; I would rather not talk about it. Were you the one who put the folded flower on my desk?"
"Yes," he said. "I came across a great stack of sheets, both paper and plastic. None of it was important: old information, frivolous reports. So I put a sheet or two to new use."
"It was lovely."
He put up his hands in a gesture she did not recognize. "I have always been good at geometry, ever since my aunt first showed me how to fold paper in order to do proofs."
"Do you spend all your nights just speeding through computer records?" she asked, gesturing at the console. "Setting aside, of course, bouts of paper-folding."
"It is inefficient to spend all one's time on only one project," he replied, pushing his lips out humorously. "I have my docket of Private Consultations, ideas I am working out for various Logic Societies of which I am a member, simulations I construct and run, puzzles I investigate. For instance, the Winbaric delegation spent part of the night walking the halls. They seem familiar with the layout of the station, and were able to override certain doors that had been sealed shut."
"That's a little disturbing." Katja considered this a moment. "Is there any way you can bring up the functions from my desk here?"
"I can connect you with your desk directly." He did so, and Katja entered her passcode for the desk. As she searched for what she wanted, she asked, "Tell me, Kubiri, did anything from yesterday's negotiations make any sense to you? What was all the talk about dreams?"
"It need not have anything to do with dreams themselves; it is just that much of the Ylfae vocabulary for discussing symbolisms is based on various dream-practices that the Ylfae use to heighten their already considerable ideasthetic tendencies. That is, they do not just have ideas, they have certain sensory experiences in response to them: recognizing a mathematical pattern may be associated with a sound, the meaning of a word may be associated with a color, the idea of a virtue may be associated with a visible pattern of lines, and so on. At the same time, and partly because of this biological fact that all Ylfae share to some extent, getting symbolisms right is very important for Ylfae social interaction. In this case, the Taladac were expressing good faith as mediators by putting forward the symbolism they associate with their understanding of the situation, and the Winbaric began negotiation by trying to argue they should revise their symbolism. It is the Ylfae way of establishing common first principles; the Winbaric were attempting to argue that the Taladac should not see their position as one of neutrality or their goal in terms of deciding in favor of one party over the other, but should instead regard themselves as protecting a natural presumption in favor of local authorities, like the Winbaric themselves."
"So there was nothing unusual about it?"
Kubiri considered this carefully and began to hum his melodic one-note hum. Then he said, "It is very difficult for a non-Ylfae to follow all the nuances of Ylfae symbolic negotiation. But based on prior experience, I think the Winbaric were making arguments that would generally be regarded as weak or strained, and this seems confirmed by the responses of the Taladac, who seem to have been somewhat surprised that the Winbaric were making the arguments that they were."
"I get the feeling that none of the delegates are genuinely interested in negotiation."
"You are not alone, but it raises some puzzling questions. The Winbaric have no way of re-establishing control of the station except through negotiation. If they are not interested in negotiating, and yet are not conceding, then there is the problem of what their true goals are."
Katja finally found what she wanted. "These are the motion sensor logs for the station. In a full station they would not be very helpful for tracking anyone, because they are indiscriminate, but since we have almost no one on the station, we should be able to use it to discover exactly where they were and what they were doing. I noticed the motion sensors almost immediately, and knew there was some kind of archive for them; I just had to dig a bit to find how to access it." She studied the monitor a moment. "I should be able to find this. Would it be fine if I look into this before the negotiations?"
"It is your station," said Kubiri. "You may do whatever you wish, as long as you maintain the Rights of Hospitality under the Alliance Charter. I am here to assist you in whatever you think may need doing. If I may suggest, though, while you start your investigation, I could make an appointment with the Taladac delegation for lunch. While I cannot guarantee that it will be a pleasant meal, it might be helpful for getting an Ylfae view on whether the Winbaric are acting strangely and what their behavior might mean."
"Yes," said Katja reluctantly. "I suppose you are right. Do you think they will actually agree to lunch?"
"If they hesitate," Kubiri said drily, "I am sure they will have good reason, one that I will tell them I will gladly pass their reasons on to the Samar High Council."
"I see," said Katja with a smile. "They will no doubt take the hint."
Kubiri put his hands up in something like a shrug. "Most of diplomacy splits into two parts," he said. "The first is making people see that doing the right thing is easier and more pleasant than they think, and the second is making them see that doing the wrong thing is harder and less pleasant than it might seem. There are ways and ways of doing each."
[1554]
1.7 Negotiations (II)
It seemed to take forever to gather together all the delegates. Was this how negotiations usually went? Katja had imagined it as a much more orderly process than it was. Perhaps it was when it was not all thrown together at the last minute. Katja sighed. Perhaps it was when it was not being hosted by an Administrator who did not know what she was doing.
She had also imagined it a more pleasant process than it was. To be sure, she had not expected good cheer and bonhomie, but she had always thought that diplomats at least made an attempt to seem friendly, at least pretended that they were simply there to resolve the dispute in a way good for everyone. But the Ylfae were nothing like this. When the two Taladac Ylfae arrived, they complained, loudly and without cease, at having to wait, looking at her with strange looks that she supposed must be the Ylfae version of reproach, as if it were wholly her fault, and yet simultaneously refusing to listen to anything she said, except when they could take it as an insult. At which point they began shouting at her, or rather tried to shout at her, until Kubiri, his calm and pleasant voice somehow cutting through the shouting as if it were nothing, suggested that their shouting was making it difficult to understand their Simplified Samar. That quieted them, although Katja suspected it was the Samar mystique rather than the suggestion that had done it. Nonetheless, they continued to complain to her, at her, about her.
Things only became worse when the Winbaric arrived. They immediately began to complain that the Taladac had been allowed to seat themselves before they had even arrived. It was their station, they said. It was their territory, they said. No doubt the Administrator was on the side of the Taladac, who had oppressed Tura like the Winbaric for thousands of years, and through plotting and scheming -- at this point they looked darkly at Kubiri -- had constantly worked to marginalize the Winbaric and steal what was rightfully theirs. They would have none of it. They would not take such nonsense from Taladac skunaktiriadosh.
Katja had no idea what skunaktiriadosh were, since it was an Ylfae word she had never come across, but the Taladac certainly knew. At this point they jumped up and began shouting at the Winbaric in Ylfae. Anyone who has never tried shouting at someone in Ylfae, should consider doing so at some point. Ylfae is a leisurely language with endless syllables and plenty of vowels, so it is possible to put a large quantity of malice, anger, and contempt into every single word. Nothing sounds so insulting as an insult in Ylfae; even a mild insult is enough to wither a stout heart.
Katja attempted to intervene, but it did no good; the Taladac ignored her and the Winbaric took it as an occasion for including her in their insults and accusations. At one point she looked at Kubiri. He seemed not to be paying much attention to the argument. Contemplative sitting, perhaps. Well, he was the expert negotiator, so she gave up and sat down next to him. She sighed. It had been very different in her mind. She had planned to begin with introductions, and it had never occurred to her that the whole thing would break down into a shouting match before she could even ask for an exchange of names.
"Are Ylfae negotiations always like this?" she asked Kubiri quietly in Sylven.
"Not usually," said Kubiri in the same language. He was watching it all with mild interest. "But it does happen. Their reputation for being erratic and unpredictable is somewhat exaggerated, but there is a reason they have it. On the positive side, it usually takes very little work to discover what they really think and want. At this point in the argument it is probably best just to let them get it out of their system."
The argument grew increasingly heated, the shouting louder, the insults and accusations more creative. Katja wondered if it would escalate to violence. She worried that perhaps she should do something, but she could not think of anything to do.
There was, however, one thing that could bring the argument to a halt. The Tanaver representative arrived.
To say that he arrived somewhat underestimates the Chaka style. He did not just arrive. He sprang into the room, and onto the table, so swiftly that it was almost as if he had suddenly sprung up from the table itself. He threw his head back and gave a call, not a roar but something like the honk of a goose, if geese could make their sounds in bass and sustain it for a full minute. Not a goose, thought Katja, although the sound did remind her of a large bird. Say instead a foghorn. Whatever the natural habitat of the Chaktai, conference rooms were not one of them, and the carrying sound of the call echoed in the room. Everyone else in the room put their hands over their ears, the Ylfae doing so as they were still stumbling backwards from the startling appearance of the Chaka.
As quickly as he had appeared on the table, he ran down toward its end, jumped down onto the bench at the far hand, twisted around, and put his hands on the table, leaning forward as if he were about to spring again. He did not, however. Instead he just looked first at each Ylfae delegation, both of whom were currently cowering against the walls of the room. Chaka physiognomy being so different from Sylven, Katja knew that expressions of one could not be assumed to carry over to the other. But if Herri had been Sylven, the look on his face would have been undeniably one of sarcastic, perhaps contemptuous amusement.
There was a pause as the Ylfae watched to see what Herri would do next. At this point, Katja, having recovered from the surprise of the Chaka's appearance and his piercing trumpet-blast, saw that she had to seize this moment or else not ever get the negotiation under control. She rose and said, "I would like to introduce you all to the Tanaver representative for this negotiation. Now that we have all arrived, we can begin."
From this point the negotiations began to be more manageable. The Ylfae on both sides still refused to give their names, but neither side did any more shouting. One of the Taladac representatives gave a long speech. It made no sense at all to Katja; while it was in Simplified Samar, it seemed to consist largely of discussions of dreams, and by the time it was ended, she was completely baffled at the point. The Winbaric, however, listened attentively, albeit contemptuously, and when the Taladac representative sat down, one of the Winbaric representatives stood and gave a very similar, although shorter speech. Both sides seemed distracted during their speeches, however; in particular, they seemed somewhat disconcerted by Herri's tendency to tap the table with a claw if the discussion went on for any length of time. There was then some arguing back and forth about the various symbols that had been mentioned in the original speeches. This went on long enough that they had not talked about anything that Katja could see was even relevant to the point at issue by the time that the discussion neeeded to be ended for the day.
It had been a baffling, and disappointing, and exasperating day. And it did not help that, every so often, Katja heard an echo in the back of her head, a fragment of memory from the dream: Right roads may lead through the gates of death.
[1299]
She had also imagined it a more pleasant process than it was. To be sure, she had not expected good cheer and bonhomie, but she had always thought that diplomats at least made an attempt to seem friendly, at least pretended that they were simply there to resolve the dispute in a way good for everyone. But the Ylfae were nothing like this. When the two Taladac Ylfae arrived, they complained, loudly and without cease, at having to wait, looking at her with strange looks that she supposed must be the Ylfae version of reproach, as if it were wholly her fault, and yet simultaneously refusing to listen to anything she said, except when they could take it as an insult. At which point they began shouting at her, or rather tried to shout at her, until Kubiri, his calm and pleasant voice somehow cutting through the shouting as if it were nothing, suggested that their shouting was making it difficult to understand their Simplified Samar. That quieted them, although Katja suspected it was the Samar mystique rather than the suggestion that had done it. Nonetheless, they continued to complain to her, at her, about her.
Things only became worse when the Winbaric arrived. They immediately began to complain that the Taladac had been allowed to seat themselves before they had even arrived. It was their station, they said. It was their territory, they said. No doubt the Administrator was on the side of the Taladac, who had oppressed Tura like the Winbaric for thousands of years, and through plotting and scheming -- at this point they looked darkly at Kubiri -- had constantly worked to marginalize the Winbaric and steal what was rightfully theirs. They would have none of it. They would not take such nonsense from Taladac skunaktiriadosh.
Katja had no idea what skunaktiriadosh were, since it was an Ylfae word she had never come across, but the Taladac certainly knew. At this point they jumped up and began shouting at the Winbaric in Ylfae. Anyone who has never tried shouting at someone in Ylfae, should consider doing so at some point. Ylfae is a leisurely language with endless syllables and plenty of vowels, so it is possible to put a large quantity of malice, anger, and contempt into every single word. Nothing sounds so insulting as an insult in Ylfae; even a mild insult is enough to wither a stout heart.
Katja attempted to intervene, but it did no good; the Taladac ignored her and the Winbaric took it as an occasion for including her in their insults and accusations. At one point she looked at Kubiri. He seemed not to be paying much attention to the argument. Contemplative sitting, perhaps. Well, he was the expert negotiator, so she gave up and sat down next to him. She sighed. It had been very different in her mind. She had planned to begin with introductions, and it had never occurred to her that the whole thing would break down into a shouting match before she could even ask for an exchange of names.
"Are Ylfae negotiations always like this?" she asked Kubiri quietly in Sylven.
"Not usually," said Kubiri in the same language. He was watching it all with mild interest. "But it does happen. Their reputation for being erratic and unpredictable is somewhat exaggerated, but there is a reason they have it. On the positive side, it usually takes very little work to discover what they really think and want. At this point in the argument it is probably best just to let them get it out of their system."
The argument grew increasingly heated, the shouting louder, the insults and accusations more creative. Katja wondered if it would escalate to violence. She worried that perhaps she should do something, but she could not think of anything to do.
There was, however, one thing that could bring the argument to a halt. The Tanaver representative arrived.
To say that he arrived somewhat underestimates the Chaka style. He did not just arrive. He sprang into the room, and onto the table, so swiftly that it was almost as if he had suddenly sprung up from the table itself. He threw his head back and gave a call, not a roar but something like the honk of a goose, if geese could make their sounds in bass and sustain it for a full minute. Not a goose, thought Katja, although the sound did remind her of a large bird. Say instead a foghorn. Whatever the natural habitat of the Chaktai, conference rooms were not one of them, and the carrying sound of the call echoed in the room. Everyone else in the room put their hands over their ears, the Ylfae doing so as they were still stumbling backwards from the startling appearance of the Chaka.
As quickly as he had appeared on the table, he ran down toward its end, jumped down onto the bench at the far hand, twisted around, and put his hands on the table, leaning forward as if he were about to spring again. He did not, however. Instead he just looked first at each Ylfae delegation, both of whom were currently cowering against the walls of the room. Chaka physiognomy being so different from Sylven, Katja knew that expressions of one could not be assumed to carry over to the other. But if Herri had been Sylven, the look on his face would have been undeniably one of sarcastic, perhaps contemptuous amusement.
There was a pause as the Ylfae watched to see what Herri would do next. At this point, Katja, having recovered from the surprise of the Chaka's appearance and his piercing trumpet-blast, saw that she had to seize this moment or else not ever get the negotiation under control. She rose and said, "I would like to introduce you all to the Tanaver representative for this negotiation. Now that we have all arrived, we can begin."
From this point the negotiations began to be more manageable. The Ylfae on both sides still refused to give their names, but neither side did any more shouting. One of the Taladac representatives gave a long speech. It made no sense at all to Katja; while it was in Simplified Samar, it seemed to consist largely of discussions of dreams, and by the time it was ended, she was completely baffled at the point. The Winbaric, however, listened attentively, albeit contemptuously, and when the Taladac representative sat down, one of the Winbaric representatives stood and gave a very similar, although shorter speech. Both sides seemed distracted during their speeches, however; in particular, they seemed somewhat disconcerted by Herri's tendency to tap the table with a claw if the discussion went on for any length of time. There was then some arguing back and forth about the various symbols that had been mentioned in the original speeches. This went on long enough that they had not talked about anything that Katja could see was even relevant to the point at issue by the time that the discussion neeeded to be ended for the day.
It had been a baffling, and disappointing, and exasperating day. And it did not help that, every so often, Katja heard an echo in the back of her head, a fragment of memory from the dream: Right roads may lead through the gates of death.
[1299]
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)