The Glass Mountains (21 page)

I’d never ridden in a plane before. I’d never seen so much green at one time. Hills covered most of the land, rivers twisting through the valleys. Moor had visited Mallarr with his parents years earlier, when it was Soom Kali and not Artroro who sponsored this monarchy. Nothing had changed much in the landscape since then, but he found the people different. They were less corrupt when Soom Kali had sponsored them. Moor said that he found his country one of the least corrupt places he’d ever been.
 

“How can a country that violent not be corrupt at some level?” I said.
 

“What I mean is my people keep their word. My friend gave his vow to uphold the orders of his commanders, so he had to kill me if he could. I said I would try to get you over the border alive, so I had to do so. The Soom Kali are a violent people, but they’re not without honor.”
 

We talked loudly, above the plane motor. Every so often I felt nauseated by the ride and needed to lie back and close my eyes.
 

“How was your mother killed?” I asked him after a silence.
 

“A brief war between Soom Kali and Artroro broke out while my mother visited Mallarr. Artroro attacked the village where she stayed, and she got killed.”
 

“How could your father have helped if he’d been there?”
 

“The presence of another person always changes what occurs. It could have been anything. Perhaps they would have been out for a ride at the time of the attack, or perhaps they would have stayed at a different village.”
 

When we landed in Artroro, we told the airport guard that we were tourists; he let us through immediately. Despite the wars Artroro often found itself in, the Artroran border was open. The guard petted Shami on the head, and several people smiled at us. My travels had torn and dirtied my robes, and I truly looked like the hayseed I’d once been called.
 

There were so many different types of people it was hard to say just what a native Artroran looked like. Moor said the Artrorans were almost as tall as the Soom Kali, but huskier. I saw several people who met that description. I also saw several Bakshami, graceful black-haired people in native gowns. I felt so excited I waved to one, but he only glanced at me with surprise and hurried on. I waved at another, and she, too, seemed surprised, but also amused. Moor, who until recently had struck me as exotic, seemed almost normal among these strangers. He’d gotten his knee bandaged up properly in Mallarr, but blood had seeped through the bandage. Even that made him fit in—I saw a couple of people with bruises on their faces, another with her arm in a brace, and another with blood seeping through a bandage on his neck. A number of these strangers carried themselves with the same confidence that bordered on insolence that I saw in Moor. In this way I saw that he was not as unusual as I’d thought, and yet I continued to care more and more for him.
 

Since Moor could read Artroran, we could follow the signs to a place where the thunder of planes and ships crushed my eardrums and the crowds of people shouted and cursed and laughed with each other. Moor told me that the planes looked older and were less maneuverable than the sleeker ships.
 

The air held an astonishing amount of humidity. The humidity clung to my face and gave my skin a moist sensation that I couldn’t tell if I liked or not. There was something voluptuous about it, like the heat that emanated from Moor and made me aware of my skin and of the heat in my own body.
 

“Nobody has dogsleds here,” I said. Instead people used what I’d heard Moor call motorsleds, and ships and planes like the ones I’d seen in both Soom Kali and Mallarr.
 

“Bakshami exists in the dark ages. I camped in Bakshami once with my mother, but we didn’t get very far. The conditions there were so awful we didn’t want to go on.”
 

I listened to the loud, grating noises around us and looked at the people pushing to get from here to there while opposite them others pushed to get from there to here. “Are these conditions better?”
 

“I have no love of this sector, but, yes, to me, these conditions are preferable.” We needed to speak loudly to hear each other.
 

Somewhere in the back of my head I knew there was much here I would like to gawk at, but the noise oppressed me, and all I could think of was how much I wanted to leave. “Let’s go,” I said. “My ears hurt!”
 

He led us directly into a huge crowd, where the noise grew louder still. I pressed my hands over my ears as we pushed through. Every so often, Moor would turn to see whether I followed, and I noticed his eyes shone—these crowds and this noise excited him. The air was so wet that my skin and clothes had grown damp.
 

“Why doesn’t it rain?” I shouted.
 

“It will!” he shouted back.
 

Finally we reached the end of one crowd, but there were still crowds all around. Moor suddenly seemed to spot something he’d been searching for and rushed forward to grab a man next to a vehicle that looked like a halved, somewhat flattened sphere. It was similar, but with less flourish, to a couple of vehicles I’d seen in Moor’s town.
 

“Why travel in these when they could fly?”
 

“Let the skies remain sacred,” said Moor, crying out above the din. “There are sectors like Forma that pass few rules restricting the number of people in the air. In Soom Kali we prefer to see clouds in the sky, not ships. The same is generally true of the people here.”
 

The man he’d grabbed shook his arm away in what seemed like feigned anger. “What, you hold on to me while you give her a lesson in philosophy?”
 

“We need a place to stay,” Moor said to the man. “Can you take us to the nearest village? How much would you charge?”
 

The man regarded us with amusement. Everyone seemed especially amused by me and my dogs. “I could take you for free just for the laugh, but then I’ve already had my share of laughs today. Therefore the charge would be high.”
 

The man was smaller even than me, and I’d never seen a man so round about the stomach. The sight had disoriented me so much that at first it had occurred to me that maybe he wasn’t a man at all but a pregnant woman.
 

“Never mind,” Moor said. “I see someone else who can help us.” He peered over the top of the man’s head. I rose on my toes but didn’t see what he saw. He hoisted his pack and signaled me to come with him.
 

“Perhaps a good laugh is worth something after all,” said the man. “Therefore the charge would be moderate.”
 

Moor said, “That motorsled I see over there is larger than yours, and the driver seems eager for company.” His heavy pack remained positioned on his shoulder.
 

The round man again regarded me and my dogs, this time letting out a huge belly laugh. “They’re funnier than I realized! An excellent laugh is worth a lot in a world like this. Therefore the price would be low.”
 

Moor threw our things into the motorsled and hoisted the dogs in. He and I climbed over the edge and squeezed into the tiny vehicle. Artie sat closest to the man. We sat for several minutes while the driver fiddled and the motorsled groaned and coughed.
 

“It sounds like it’s dying, not coming to life,” I said.
 

But the groaning and coughing ceased, and we lurched forward while the driver pressed a button to make the motorsled scream shrilly in warning to pedestrians. He himself shouted constantly, “Are you crazy? Get out of the way. Do you want to die? No, then move, you ass!”
 

Moor comforted Shami, who trembled in her seat.
 

Artie sat placidly. We moved through throng after throng, but finally we broke through and I could see a breathtaking view before me, flowers everywhere, in the trees and along the paths and in the hair of men and women. The heavy air captured the scent of the flowers and coated my skin so that when I sniffed my arm, the smell seemed to rise from me as well as from all around me.
 

Many people walked the paths. “Why do so many people walk when they could drive?” I said. It was a variation of my earlier question about why people drove rather than flew. But having never encountered so much technology before, I found myself enamored of it.
 

“There are advantages to walking that don’t have to do with speed,” Moor said. “Technology is for finding expediency, lack of technology is for finding grace.”
 

“When I settle down I plan to buy ten different motorsleds and alternate them according to my mood.”
 

The man ignored us and talked to Artie. “Where are you from? You’re a nice-looking dog, very handsome. You remind me of my brother, who is the opposite of me, a muscular fellow. We have different fathers, and as a matter of fact we have different mothers as well. All right, you’ve found me out, he isn’t my brother at all, just a neighbor. A very handsome man.”
 

“What powers this thing?” I said to Moor.
 

“It has to do with gravity and magnets, and also with the power of the sun. My interest in science has always been minimal.”
 

The man turned to look at us disapprovingly. “And what of your other interests? When I was your age I already had ten children as healthy as dogs,” he said. “Where are your children? Left them at home?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Let me tell you a story that may help you. We kept two pheasant once, a male and a female. The male always tried to mount the female. He tried to knock her down and do it, he tried doing it with her beak and with her eyes and with the feathers on the back of her head. In frustration she tried jumping on top of him. They just couldn’t figure it out. Finally she sat down on top of a rock and pretended it was an egg. Every day she sat on that rock, waiting for it to hatch. Through the most intense heat wave in my memory, she sat on that rock instead of hiding in the shade. One hot day we went outside and there she was, diligently atop her rock, dead. She made a fine supper for my family but that’s not the point. The point is, if those pheasant had been able to talk to the mother of my children, everything would have worked out. If the two of you would like some advice, she has a knack for it. We knew a couple who tried for half their lives to have children. After one talk with Lederra, bazoom, they started to have so many children they could have started a village of their own. Lederra’s a genius on such matters. We ourselves have nine children.”
 

“I thought you had ten,” I said.
 

“Did I say nine? I meant eleven,” he said.
 

“We’ll have twelve,” said Moor. “And our pheasants and dogs will have forty.”
 

The man laughed uproariously. “Then you must sell me some of your pheasants and dogs. They sound like good breeding stock.”
 

We passed a monstrously muscular man with a face as grotesque as the beast carvings of Soom Kali. The driver stopped and sent his siren blaring to catch the man’s attention. “Sir! Sir! Please, if there’s ever a fight you’re on my side!” The man tolerantly nodded his beastly head in acknowledgment. The motorsled stalled, and the driver fiddled some more before we got started again. He turned his head halfway to talk to us. “You have to be prepared in this world, and get your friends straightened out
before
a fight starts. As a matter of fact, you look like quite a strong young man yourself. You’re on my side, too.” He paused the motorsled and turned to grab hold of Moor’s hands and kiss them. “I’m at your service, my name is Penn. Remember, we’re all friends now, in case there’s ever a fight. It’s to your advantage. I’m not strong, but I’m sneaky and handy with blunt objects.”
 

“Do many fights break out?” I said.
 

“All the time. I myself have never been involved in one, but as I said, it’s best to be prepared. You’re like me, you must learn to make yourself handy with whatever objects are at your disposal. A sneaky weakling can be a powerful ally, indeed.”
 

“I don’t like to think of myself as a sneaky weakling.”
 

He laughed. “Lederra could conquer such as you without use of her hands
or
her feet! She would just push you over, smash you with her head, and be done with it!” He pondered that and laughed some more.
 

“The strongest will makes the strongest soldier,” said Moor. “She’s Bakshami. Their wills are hardened by the sun.”
 

“Indeed, I know many Bakshami myself. Sneaky weaklings with wills of rock.”
 

“My brother and his wife are as strong as any Soom Kali,” I said defensively.
 

“Then let them be on my side, too!” exclaimed Penn.
 

We arrived at the village, which was almost as crowded as the airport, and Penn dropped us off at a place that he said was the cheapest inn in town. “You did want the cheapest, didn’t you? If you want the best, I can help you with that, too. Something in between?”
 

“This is good,” Moor said. “How much do we owe you?”