Pandora's Genes (33 page)

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir. This is wonderful news. Welcome home, Zach.” Impulsively the old man went to Zach, took his hand, then dropped it uncertainly and backed off.

Zach smiled. “Thank you, Robin,” he started to say, but he still couldn’t find his voice.

The Principal handed him a cup of warm brew. “Here. This will help you get a hold on yourself.”

Zach eagerly accepted it. It had been a very long time since he had tasted brew, and it was even better than he remembered. As he took the liquid in short gulps, warming his throat and his stomach, a feeling of peace began to spread through his body. At last he had his breath. He looked up at the Principal, who was still standing before him, pacing from foot to foot in the quick nervous way he had, his face open with joy.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” the Principal said. “I look at you, and I know you, and I don’t believe you’re here.” Zach wanted to speak, but he had so much to say he didn’t know where to begin.

“You must eat,” said the Principal. He brought the tray to the couch and placed it beside Zach. There were sausages and bread and cheese, and Zach looked at the array hungrily. The Principal broke off a piece of sweet bread and Zach ate it in one bite, then washed it down with two large gulps of brew. He began to chew on a sausage, the rich taste seeming to explode in his mouth.

“I’ll have a bath made up and call in the barbers,” said the Principal. “Or you can rest. I know you’ve been through a lot, I can’t imagine what. Would you like to rest now?”

Zach shook his head.

The two men continued to eat and drink for some time. And still Zach found it difficult to begin talking. After he had eaten his fill for the first time in memory, and washed down the last of the sausage with brew, Zach at last said, “I have been a prisoner of the Traders for all these years.”

“I guessed as much,” said the Principal. “All this time I thought you were dead. My men found the place where you were attacked and brought me your things; later we recovered your seal ring from the remains of a skeleton. The man was so large we assumed it was you.”

Zach’s stomach turned over. The sausages had been far richer than the food he was used to, and for a moment he thought he would be sick. The dead man, whoever he was, could have gotten the seal ring from only one person, Evvy; she would not have given it up willingly, and that meant . . . .

“Are you all right?” the Principal touched Zach’s shoulder, his face very close and worried.

Zach nodded, and swallowed several times as the Principal continued: “When I saw that, I had to believe you were dead. It never occurred to me that the seal ring could have found itself on any finger but yours. I suppose I didn’t think it was possible for you to be captured; and, of course, for a long time now the Traders have not taken male prisoners.”

Zach nodded. He wanted to tell the Principal about Yosh, and the Trader plans for secret conversion, but he must explain a great deal more first. Part of that explanation would involve telling the Principal how he had betrayed him and why, and he could not bring himself to do that yet. He again fell silent, knowing that Will would attribute this to exhaustion. In his happiness the Principal seemed not even to notice Zach’s silence. Zach basked in his brother’s joy, unwilling to spoil it for now.

The Principal talked on and on. He told Zach of new developments in the District, of his struggle against the Traders, and Zach listened with growing misgiving. Will still saw the Traders as crazed, ignorant fanatics, which, of course, they were; but clearly Will had no idea how dedicated and well organized they were. As always, Zach loved to watch the Principal talk, his face animated and expressive as he described the things which excited him. Even as a young boy he had never been able to sit quietly. Always his mind was working, making plans, dreaming dreams.

After a while Zach’s head began to nod, and he fought his sleepiness, not wanting the evening to end. The Principal saw his exhaustion and called Robin, then ordered him to have the housekeeper prepare a bath. He put his strong arms under Zach’s own and helped him rise from the couch, then walk through the long corridor and down the stairway to the large bathing-pool in the basement.

“You are so thin I can feel your bones,” the Principal said.

The bathing-room was already hazy with steam as two servants poured kettles of hot water into the large blue-and-white tiled bath. Zach was suddenly, acutely embarrassed by his filth, his parasites, and the new scars crossing his scrawny body. The Principal seemed to sense his discomfort and instructed the attendants to leave after the bath was filled and thick towels laid out. He helped Zach peel off the filthy clothes, then eased him into the pool, disrobed, and joined him, lying back in the warm fragrant water.

After a few moments the warmth of the water had reached into every corner of Zach’s being, and he felt that he could float here forever, never moving.

The Principal helped Zach to wash, with soap and a rough vegetable sponge, clucking at the amount of grime that had worked itself into all the pores and folds of his skin. This was the first time he had properly bathed in over five years, and Zach simply gave himself up to the pleasure of it, feeling the torments of the past years melt away with the dirt.

“We’ll have to do something about your new friends,” said the Principal distastefully. “You may have to finally shave that famous beard. Soon you’ll be more like me than you ever imagined.” He turned his head sideways. “Yes, you’re beginning to look like Zach,” he said. “How do you feel?”

In answer, Zach reached out and gripped his brother’s hand, slippery from soap. The Principal returned the grasp and smiled. “It’s a start,” he said.

Feeling more relaxed and at peace than he could recall ever having felt, Zach wrapped himself in a soft cloth robe, then followed the Principal to his old room, where he had not slept all these years.

“I kept the room for you,” said the Principal. “I didn’t want anyone else to sleep here. Some part of me must have known that you were still alive.”

Zach lay down on the clean sheets, tightly spread over a mount-hair mattress, feeling as if his body had melted and were spreading into every corner of the room. He was very near sleep, and he looked up again at Will’s confident smile. The last thing he saw as his eyes closed was his feathered lyre, hanging on the wall where he had always kept it.

W
HEN
Z
ACH AWOKE IT WAS
late afternoon; he had slept nearly round the clock. He lay without moving for a moment, savoring the feeling of peace and comfort. Through the open window he could see the top of the Great Tower and beyond it the trees bordering the river.

Slowly he stretched, working out the stiffness in his limbs. The feathered lyre gleamed on the wall in front of him, and he smiled, thinking of the Principal’s sentimental dedication to his memory. He knew he should get up, but his body still ached with exhaustion. Despite the exercise he had taken in his cell, he was weak and out of shape. He could see that he would be unable to resume any of his duties until he had begun to rebuild his strength. And then he remembered that he would not in fact assume any duties, because he had committed treason and would be put to death. No matter how much Will loved him, Zach knew he would never be able to forgive his betrayal.

He sat up but still did not get out of the bed. He scratched his beard and hair, thinking of all he must do today.

“Good morning, sir,” said a voice to his right.

Zach started and turned to see a boy slouched in a chair, gazing at him curiously. “I am Lindy,” the boy said. “The Principal ordered me to watch and tell him as soon as you woke up. And to find out if you want anything.”

“Nothing, thank you,” said Zach, smiling. The boy bobbed his head and disappeared. Zach went to the wardrobe, where he knew he would find his old clothing untouched. He put on a soft gray tunic which had been one of his favorites. It hung from him as if from a cloak rack. The belt he used to fasten his dark trousers reached nearly twice around him. There was a small looking glass to the right of the bed. Although Zach had caught blurred glimpses of himself in water while traveling to the Garden, he had not yet had a clear look at the man he had become. He approached the mirror with curiosity and misgiving. Although he often teased the Principal for his vanity, Zach had always taken pride in his own appearance. The man who looked out from the mirror was a stranger. The hair was thin and matted, and more gray than blond; the face was gaunt and deeply lined, the eyes sunken and without a trace of humor. He looked, in fact, very much like most Traders. Perhaps the teachings had rubbed off on him in some deep and unknowable way.

There was a knock at the door, and the Principal let himself in. He was smiling and as full of energy as a puppy. Immediately he embraced Zach. “Good morning, brother,” he said. “Although by now good evening would be more appropriate. I take it you slept well?”

“Better than I have in five years,” said Zach.

The Principal stood back and examined him. “Quite a change from the wild-eyed Trader who came in yesterday, but we’ve got to fatten you up. And do something about that hair. Do you know, your hair was so dirty I didn’t notice it last night, but you’ve gone quite gray.”

“I was just noticing that myself,” said Zach. “People will now take me for your father.”

The Principal put his arm around Zach’s shoulder. “Come along, then, old man. Let’s get some food into you, and then off to the barbers.”

The barber did not shave Zach’s head but cut the hair bristly short and applied herbal medicines to kill the remaining lice. His beard was shaved; this was the first time in his adult life that Zach had seen himself without it.

“Finally you look like a civilized man,” said the Principal. He had been trying to get Zach to shave from their youth.

“I look like a stranger,” said Zach. This new appearance was even more unsettling. The deep lines around his mouth and the mouth itself – straight and thin-lipped – reinforced the look of a man who was humorless and uncompromising. It was the face of a betrayer. Had he always looked like this?

“I’ve planned a feast for tonight,” said the Principal. “A chance for all your old friends to see you again. I’ve been spreading the word all day. I’ll tell you something, Zach, I feel like a boy again. It’s as if I came back from the dead too. I did more business this one day than in the last two months.” He looked closely at Zach and then frowned. “What is it? I thought you’d want to see everyone. If it’s too much for you, we can postpone the celebration.”

Zach saw the hurt in the Principal’s eyes and quickly said. “No, of course not. It sounds like just what I need.” But the longer he was with the Principal, the closer he came to resuming his old life, the more difficult it would be for Will when he finally learned the truth.

“I have to speak to you,” Zach said after a moment.

“Yes, of course,” said the Principal. “And there are a hundred questions I must ask you. But there’s no rush.”

“Some of what I have to tell you is urgent. More than you know. I’ve learned a great deal about the Traders and their ways.”

The Principal nodded. “I executed their leader here last spring, but it doesn’t seem to have stopped the spread of their ideas.”

“They’ve made him a holy martyr,” said Zach. “Stopping them is going to require all your resources. They have the power to destroy your civilization. I am deadly serious about this.”

“I can see you are. And I know we’ll have to do something about it soon. Great deena, I just hope we’re not going to have a holy war on our hands.”

“I’m afraid that’s exactly what you have already.”

The Principal looked worried, then he shook his head and smiled. “Together we can stop them,” he said. “Together we can do anything, Zach. I’ve always known that. But there’s plenty of time. Even if the Traders are converting half the city at this very moment, we can’t do a thing about it tonight. So let’s forget about business and concentrate on pleasure for a while. When you’ve eaten and drunk enough to put ten more pounds on your bony frame, then we’ll get to work.”

Zach had to smile. The Principal was making things more difficult by the minute, but Zach couldn’t help going along with him for the time being.

“You win,” he said. “As always. But one thing: I know you have moved the Garden. I assume it’s now at the peninsula retreat?”

The Principal nodded. “The neck of the peninsula is guarded by a training base. It couldn’t be safer.”

“How is the work going there?”

“Better than we could have expected. As a matter of fact, the problem of the woman sickness has been solved—”

“What!”

“Well, that is, there is now a way to test for susceptibility. We’ve had some difficulty getting the population to go along with it. I’ve sent for someone who can tell you all about it tomorrow.”

There was one more question Zach had to ask. “One thing more, Will. Is the old woman . . . ?”

“She’s dead. It happened a few weeks ago. She had been ill a long time.” He squeezed Zach’s shoulder.

“If only I had come back in time.”

“She believed you dead, Zach. If you had returned, the shock might have killed her sooner.”

Zach was astonished. He was saddened by the news of his mother’s death but not really surprised; she had been very old. What stunned him was that Will seemed to share some measure of sorrow. “Had you grown closer, then, toward the end?”

The Principal laughed shortly. “Not really,” he said. “There was never any love between the old woman and me. It’s just that we both came to understand we’ve been working for the same thing all along.”

Zach smiled. “All my life I tried to convince you of that. Both of you.”

“I guess we were too much alike to listen to you,” the Principal said. He frowned, then went on. “At the end, she called me to her deathbed. It turned out she wanted to put forth another of your old projects. The gist of it was that it’s time for me to settle down and produce an heir.”