Hellspark (44 page)

Darragh eyed the arachne. “Pretty cocky for somebody who’s already tried to rifle my computer,”

she said, surprising swift-Kalat with her use of Jannisetti phrasing.

“Maggy!” This time Tocohl’s voice mingled surprise and disapproval.

The arachne hunched down. “Did I do wrong?”

“What did I tell you about going through swift-Kalat’s cupboards?”

“It’s impolite—at least in public.” The arachne sank lower. “I’m sorry, Tocohl. I didn’t think it was in public.”

Tocohl splayed her hand at her throat. “My apologies, Judge Darragh. The fault is mine, not

Maggy’s. I set her a bad example.”

“No offense taken. I had expected you to try.”

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“But Tocohl didn’t—” Maggy began.

Still looking at Tocohl, Darragh finished, “I had not expected Maggy to try.”

“You don’t know me very well,” said Maggy.

“So I see.” But it was Tocohl that Darragh continued to watch. Tocohl flushed under her scrutiny and, at last, reached for the arachne. “Let her stay,” said Darragh.

“All right,” Tocohl said reluctantly. “Maggy, mind your manners. If you give them any trouble, they have my permission to kick the arachne out.”

“What about mine?” said Maggy, imitating to perfection the tone of challenge that swift-Kalat had heard only once or twice from Tocohl.

Tocohl sighed. Pressing a hand to her injured rib, she said, “Maggy, do you want me to go back to bed or not?”

“Pure blackmail,” said Maggy, “I set you a bad example too. Okay, if they say get out, I get the arachne out, I promise. Now go back to bed.”

Swift-Kalat was still observing the arachne as Tocohl left, taking with her Om im, Bayd, and

Geremy. The light touch of a hand on his arm was sufficient to startle him. He jerked to look, first at the hand, then into Darragh’s seamed face.

“Come,” she invited in Jenji, “sit with us while we eat. Your words on Tocohl Susumo’s behalf have intrigued me. I wish to hear your account of her actions with no further delay.”

This time swift-Kalat was not sorry she had spoken in Jenji: the word GalLing’

translated as

“intrigued” was, in his language, the indication of a thirst for knowledge so strong that by her use of it he knew her to be a seeker after truth. And if the truth were spoken of Tocohl, she had nothing to fear.

“Yes,” he said, “I too wish you to hear my account.”

But before he could follow her to the gathering of judges, she paused to narrow her eyes at the arachne that Maggy now bounced from side to side, dangerously risking it at the very edge of the table on which it stood.

What was the term Tocohl had used? “Kinesics,” he explained to Darragh. “She uses van Zoveel’s kinesics to express impatience or to obtain attention.” He addressed the arachne:

“What is it, Maggy?”

“I too wish to hear your account.”

“I will speak in Jenji,” he told her, by way of warning her of the difficulties she might face in understanding.

“Good, then I can practice my Jenji. What I do not understand, I will ask you to explain later.”

When neither of them spoke, she added, “I

am polite,” bringing a smile to Darragh’s face.

Although Maggy had spoken in Jenji, swift-Kalat knew that, like any youngster, her reliability was not high in that language, either in the speaking or in the hearing. To Darragh, he said, “She is three years old, but as she says, she is polite. I will explain to her later.”

Again Darragh smiled; this time swift-Kalat saw the thoughtful look that accompanied it. “Then she may accompany us,” she said, and swift-Kalat held out his arms to offer Maggy transport for the arachne.

When he set it down in front of the other judges, Yannick Windhoek scowled at it once, then resumed eating. Harle Jad-Ing and Mirrrit smiled at each other. “A spy in our midst!” said Mirrrit, peering with exaggerated concern at the arachne. As she spoke in GalLing’

and her manner so strongly suggested Buntec’s, swift-Kalat did not bridle as he might have once.

The arachne did. Standing it to full height, Maggy said, “I’m not a spy. I can keep secrets. Ask layli-layli calulan if I can’t. She’ll tell you.” Then the body tilted abruptly upward at Darragh. “I
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won’t keep secrets from Tocohl, if that’s what she means. Do you want to kick me out?”

Mirrrit looked startled. Even Yannick Windhoek glanced up again. “No,” said Darragh.

“Maggy, we have no intention of keeping this a secret from Tocohl. We simply want to know what happened here.

Mirrrit was making a joke.”

“Yes,” said Mirrrit, splaying a hand at her throat, “it was intended as a joke.”

Maggy reversed the tilt on the arachne. “You’re not much better at jokes than I am,” she observed, and Harle Jad-Ing, laughing, said, “Perhaps, but she needs the practice or she’ll never be good at it.”

Mirrrit punched him amiably in the shoulder.

“Oh,” Maggy said. “We could practice on each other, Mirrrit, if you like.”

Once again swift-Kalat saw the sudden sharpening of interest, this time Mirrrit’s, as she glanced from

Jad-Ing to the arachne. “Yes,” she said, “I’d like that, Maggy.”

“Fine,” said Darragh, “that’s settled then.” Swift-Kalat was momentarily distressed to hear her speaking in GalLing’, but she raised her voice to take in the rest of the surveyors who made no attempt to hide their interest: “We beg your indulgence. We have need to speak and to listen in Jenji for the sake of clarity.”

The announcement drew a number of hostile glares from various members of the survey team, many of them directed at swift-Kalat, but Buntec grinned. “Tell ’em straight, swift-Kalat,” she charged him; to the rest she said, “Maggy’ll tell us all later—right, kid?”

“Bet your ass, I will,” said Maggy, flawlessly matching Buntec’s brash good humor, then adding, “Did I say that right?”

“Bet your ass, you did,” Buntec assured her. And in that brief exchange, swift-Kalat saw the hostility of the others fade as quickly as it had come, leaving in its absence only an intense curiosity.

He turned again to Darragh, and without waiting to be asked a second time, he began his account by quoting his own note. If they could hear and understand its import in Jenji, then they would be capable of hearing and understanding what he had to say about Tocohl.

Behind him, Vielvoye hovered closer, as if proximity might make the words comprehensible; when it

did not, he moved to the opposite side of the table where he might watch swift-Kalat’s face, and squinted with effort. But the judges—all four of them—could hear what swift-Kalat had said. With a clash of bracelets to emphasize his reliability, he settled in to tell it all.

When he came to account how Maggy had invoked the Hellspark ritual of change to make him her sister so that he might speak to layli-layli calulan

, Windhoek stopped eating to stare at Darragh. It was so sharp a change in manner—from all of them—that swift-Kalat immediately splayed his hand before his throat. “I intended no offense,”

he said. “If I have, in ignorance, broken a taboo by speaking of this matter…” The arachne rose and he ended his appeal directly to Maggy. “You said nothing of taboo.”

“If you will permit me to speak, Judge Darragh,” Maggy said, “I believe may speak most reliably on

I

this matter.”

“Please do.”

“Swift-Kalat, before that day, the Hellspark ritual of change did not exist. I invented it to enable you to speak to layli-layli calulan

. It was dream, not lie, and layli-layli calulan will tell you that the Hellspark ritual of change will serve the Hellsparks well on her world.” The arachne mimed a
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wrist-snap of authority, that was all the more compelling for its awkwardness.

Mirrrit said, “Veschke’s sparks, but that’s brilliant! Think of it, Harle, think what you could do as my sister!”

Harle grinned at her and said, “That’s positively insidious. From second-class citizen to first in one

‘Hey, presto!’”

“It won’t work that well in practice,” Windhoek pointed out.

“Oh, I know that,” Harle said, his grin only fractionally lessened by Windhoek’s scowl, “but think of the wonderful little seeds of doubt that plants.”

Swift-Kalat might, at some other time, have been fascinated by this exchange, but the arachne’s silence told him that it was his assessment Maggy awaited. He said what he would have said to any child:

“Think carefully. Have you spoken reliably? Such an invention would seem more characteristic of

Tocohl—”

“Oh!” said Maggy, stepping the arachne closer. “I did not mean to imply that Tocohl was not capable of inventing the Hellspark ritual of change. Tocohl’s very inventive.” There was a grunt of assent from someone, but swift-Kalat did not take his eyes from the arachne. Maggy went on, “I’m sure she would have invented it, or something that would do, if she had been in my situation. But I couldn’t even talk to her, swift-Kalat. I had to do something! Did I do wrong?”

“No, Maggy,” he said firmly, “you did the right thing. I do not question your reliability.” With that, he brought down his wrist for emphasis. In the clash of bracelets he thought: She has language and she created what is surely an artifact—she fulfills two of the three prerequisites for the legal definition of sentience.

When the sound of his bracelets had died away, Maggy said, “I’m glad. I’m sorry for the interruption, Judge Darragh.” Once again she folded the arachne’s legs and settled it to watch. “Go ahead with your account, swift-Kalat; I will not distract you any further.”

Swift-Kalat took up his account where he had left it, without comment. Had he commented, he would have been forced to call the reliability of her final statement into doubt. Her very presence was a distraction, as absorbing a distraction as the sprookjes. Even as he told the four judges of the first hint of

Megeve’s treachery, a portion of his mind was planning to speak to Tocohl about Maggy as soon as he had finished here. If Tocohl could speak of art, then the opportunity to bring Maggy to the attention of four byworld judges should not be passed by. There would be no survey team to make such a judgment, rightly or wrongly, in the case of an extrapolative computer.

As reluctant as she might be to admit it with any more than a small sigh of content, Tocohl was grateful to be off her feet again.

Layli-layli calulan said, “You will someday outgrow that streak of stubbornness and settle into comfort.”

The thought startled Tocohl briefly upright, shock spreading across her face. “Veschke’s sparks, I

hope not!”

“Then learn to apply it where it will do good instead of damage.”

Layli-layli pushed her gently down and touched fingertips to her ribcage. The rest kept silent while the Yn shaman applied her own good.

When she had finished, Tocohl introduced to her the bayd shandoni and “my sister, by the

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Hellspark ritual of change, the geremy kantyka

.”

Having been introduced as her sister, Geremy greeted the Yn shaman in Yn-female without a single misstep; nor did he flinch, as many would have, under the scrutiny that resulted. “Yes,”

said layli-layli at last, “it will help. Not as much as I had hoped but… it will help.”

“Maggy will be pleased to hear that,” Tocohl said, knowing that the mention of her name was sufficient to call Maggy’s attention to the tribute. “And before you ask too: She’s not a byworld judge, layli-layli

.”

Layli-layli calulan

’s small hand closed tightly around her bluestone rings, her eyes shifted to Bayd.

“Nor is Bayd,” Tocohl said.

Frowning, layli-layli calulan said, “Then I shall seek someone who is. There is, still, the matter of Oloitokitok to be judged.”

Tocohl reached up to clasp her wrists in sympathy. “Seek Nevelen Darragh,” she said. “She will satisfy you. She dreams and her dreams have strength.”

“She’s in the common room with the others,” Om im put in. “Put your rings back on, layli-layli

.

They’re discussing Tocohl’s fate in there and tempers could be running a bit high by now.”

Layli-layli calulan glanced down at her clenched fist. “Yes,” she said softly. It took visible effort to open her hand; the rings had left small distorted ovals in her flesh. With great deliberation, she replaced the rings on her fingers, then she turned toward the door. Abruptly, she turned back, concern mingled with the suppressed anger in her face. “Om im,” she said.

His concern mirroring layli-layli

’s, Om im touched the hilt of his knife and glanced inquiringly at Tocohl who said, “My knife is yours, layli-layli

—but he serves only as a reminder. He will not intervene to his own risk.”

“I need only the reminder, tocohli

. That I swear.”

Satisfied, Tocohl turned her thumb up to Om im. He rose to join layli-layli calulan

, and in a moment the two of them had vanished into a smear of gray rain.

“That’s a useful man to have around,” Tocohl said, settling her head on her good arm.

“That he is,” said Bayd, grinning. “I’ll tell you my story if you’ll tell me yours.”

“Done,” said Tocohl, with the snap of her fingers that sealed a bargain between Hellspark traders.

Then she sighed her relief and said, “Veschke’s sparks but I’m glad to see you, Bayd. I was scared to death I’d have to leave Maggy in the hands of a novice, however useful he may be under other circumstances. I’m happier to have her looked after by someone who’s had considerable experience in such matters.”

Geremy glanced in the direction Om im had gone. “Not a pilot, I take it?”

In spite of herself, Tocohl grinned. “Not a parent,” she corrected. “Bayd, on the other hand, has not only raised a passle of children, but I can vouch for how well she’s done it. I trust her to do as well by another one.”