The Glass Mountains (26 page)

In the morning, our new driver was waiting for us at the far end of town. I could hardly walk I was so hungry.
 

“There he is,” said Moor.
 

“How can you be sure? We must be careful who we trust.”
 

“My friend said the driver’s hair would hang in curls.”
 

The man in the motorsled had long curled brown hair. He nodded to us as we approached and we climbed in wordlessly. When he drove off, we still hadn’t spoken. He seemed more interested in the dogs than in us. Every so often he would scratch Artie in a seat near him, and a couple of times he turned to smile at Shami. I’d vowed to trust no one, but as a Bakshami I couldn’t help trusting a man who liked my dogs.
 

Moor leaned forward. “How long is the ride?” he said.
 

The man bowed his head once quickly.
 

I leaned forward, too. “Do you like dogs?” I said, and he bowed his head quickly again.
 

Moor and I both leaned back. The man motioned us forward with his hands and pointed at his mouth as he smiled. Then he covered his mouth. “Are you mute?” Moor asked, and the man nodded.
 

As he drove I sleepily watched the landscape and soon realized that I was even more tired than hungry. That was the last thought I remembered before I woke up again. It was night, and the fog had drifted back in. The motorsled crawled along, the driver leaning forward. He’d turned on only the weakest lights. He sat right in front of me, but his outline was vague. I tapped his shoulder and he jumped, then laughed silently and nodded at me.
 

“I need to stop,” I said.
 

He raised a hand in acknowledgment and pulled over while Moor opened his eyes sleepily. The driver gave me a lamp to carry and I walked out into the fog to pee. Though I walked just a few measures away, when I turned back I couldn’t see even the form of the motorsled. I stood very still and heard someone walking not far from me, and when he stopped I called out.
 

“Moor?” My voice sounded small in the darkness.
 

“Coming.” In a moment he stepped out of the fog and into my small circle of vision. I’d set the lamp down and could see nothing but Moor and the fog around us.
 

“How long is the drive?”
 

“It depends how many breaks our driver needs. I’m starving, so I hope we stop for food.”
 

“Me, too. I’m surprised your friend didn’t tell you he was a mute.”
 

“I am, too. But I remember once he told me it was easier for a mute to keep secrets because by the time he has found a tablet to write down your secrets in order to pass them on, he has realized it’s best not to betray you. And my friend has many secrets.”
 

“How do you know this friend?”
 

“I helped him once as I am helping you.”
 

“You helped get him out of Soom Kali?”
 

“I hid him in our house when soldiers searched for him.”
 

“Why did they search for him?”
 

“He killed his sick father.”
 

“And you helped him when you yourself have cared so long for your own father?”
 

“I would never kill my own father, it’s true. But my friend’s heart was pure, that’s why he could do it. I could never kill my father because my heart is not pure.”
 

“I’ve never heard such nonsense.”
 

“There have been many times I’ve wanted to kill my father because I was angry with him or tired of taking care of him day after day. But my friend never had such feelings about his father. He loved him dearly and never thought of killing out of anger or fatigue, only from mercy. So though my father, like his, has asked me to end his life by stabbing his heart, unlike my friend I could not do it. Because doing so would satisfy a part of me I am ashamed of. It’s a small part, a part much smaller than the part that loves him, but it exists nevertheless. He has been cruel to both me and my mother at times, and despite his sickness I haven’t forgotten the cruelty, only forgiven it.” Moor spoke with a bitter sadness I’d never seen in him. But I admired how well he knew the darkness inside of himself as well as the light.
 

I stood on tip-toes and kissed him deeply on his lips. I wanted to erase the sadness in his voice, but the more passionately we kissed the more I felt swept up in his sadness until it filled me with my own. As a supposedly stoic Bakshami I didn’t like to dwell on such things, so I kissed him harder and harder until the passion we felt erased all other feelings. But a new light shone on us then, and our driver stood smiling and nodding apologetically. He’d taken the dogs out as well, and the five of us returned to the motorsled.
 

Back in our seats, Moor asked about food, but the driver just showed us his empty palms. And so we drove for three more days, stopping each day so the driver might sleep in his seat while we wandered about and gave the dogs a chance to exercise. I don’t know whether our driver sneaked food while we slept, but we ourselves didn’t eat for the entire drive. Sometimes when we stopped the desperate dogs chewed on flower stems.
 

Moor and I would sit in the motorsled whispering to each other about food, scheming about how we were going to check the driver for hidden food, describing for each other what we would eat as soon as we found Moor’s friend. One night as the driver slept we did check him and the motorsled, but we found nothing. As we were searching, we saw the driver watching us, but he closed his eyes again.
 

On the third day we entered the biggest city I’d ever seen; indeed, the only city I’d ever seen. Smooth towering buildings of metal, glass, stone, and wood stretched so high I feared one would fall on us as we drove among them. Ships flew across the sky, and on the ground the muscular Artrorans looked with mild curiosity at us as I hung out of the motorsled and stared at them. The buildings were as majestic as huge trees, with gigantic colorful banners rippling down some of their sides. Moor said the banners represented historical Artroran tribes, though there were very few people left with the pure blood of just one tribe. All the tribes had intermarried a long time ago, but the banners helped remind the populace of its origins and variety.
 

I couldn’t decide whether to stare at the buildings or the people. The Artrorans, with their bulging muscles and shining eyes, were worthy competitors to the Soom Kali. They didn’t seem as fast, as graceful, as the people of Soom Kali, but in a show of strength I would bet on an Artroran. Except for an occasional disdainful glance around, Moor looked straight ahead.
 

“You have to admit they seem very healthy,” I said, trying to speak judiciously.
 

“They gain their health on the backs of the immigrants who work hard to keep this sector going and grow the food that builds their muscles. But how many immigrants do you see in this great city? None, at least not in this section of town. Not unless they’re servants or contract workers.”
 

“The Soom Kali don’t tolerate any outsiders at all in their sector.”
 

“We make our intentions clear. We don’t invite them in only to abuse them. They know the price of entering our sector.”
 

“Surely there must be some cooperation and affection between the natives here and the immigrants.”
 

“Cooperation, surely, but such affection as exists moves in one direction—from the immigrants toward the natives. And it’s more admiration and envy than affection.” He pointed to one especially gorgeous building, built of stone with shining colored glass domes for roofs. “That was designed by an Artroran and built by immigrants.”
 

We continued through the busiest part of the city and on to a ramshackle house down a dead end. Huge buildings Moor said were warehouses dwarfed the house. Our driver turned around, smiling, and indicated the house. I saw Moor, ever suspicious, fingering his knife as we walked up to the door.
 

“Hello!” he called out. “Zem! Are you there?”
 

“Come in,” we heard a high male voice reply.
 

5

Inside, piles of exquisite and unique items cluttered the floors and tables like so much junk. I was reminded of some of the items at Moor’s lovely house. There were vases, paintings, bowls, embroideries, shoes, hats, furs, feathers, and a number of items I didn’t recognize. Some of the bowls seemed not just to shine but to glow, and Moor said the metal came from another planet where anything was possible.
 

“What planet is that?”
 

“I don’t know. Zem told me about it, but I’ve never been there. Maybe we can go with him one day.”
 

Zem was an enormous bejeweled man with a slightly misshapen face and hands that made mine look like the hands of a baby. He tripped over a box as we came in, and the floor shook as he caught his balance. Artie and Shami growled at the three dogs that followed Zem into the room. The three were enormous, all almost as big as Artie.
 

“Moor! How handsome you look!” They hugged each other, Moor’s arms barely reaching around Zem. Zem hugged me, too, and it was like reentering the womb the way he enveloped me in his warmth. “Mariska of the strong legs, how good to see you at last. Yes, yes, you do look strong. I know Bakshami have a reputation as hard workers, but I also know you’ve never been servants to any sector. So I hope you’re able to take orders on my ship.”
 

“We have no intention of being your servants,” said Moor.
 

“Did I say servants? I meant companions and co-workers. We’re all equal here. Let me rephrase that. This is my house but in my heart we’re equal.” He rubbed his leg where he’d tripped over the box. “The hardest work is only at the beginning when we load up. I need a great deal of provisions as I’m very fond of food.”
 

He signaled to our driver, who’d slipped in the door behind us, and the driver left the room with the dogs. “He lives near Plima but comes to Clasmata to take care of my guard dogs on my frequent trips.”
 

“How does he control the dogs if he doesn’t speak?” I said.
 

“Hand signals, whistles, clucking noises, claps. He’s ingenious at making noises. Somebody cut out his tongue in a fight he himself started and now he’s a man of peace.”
 

“The tongue causes many fights,” said Moor.
 

“When do we leave for Forma?” I asked anxiously.
 

“Soon enough. Someone has offered me money to bring back artifacts. This sort of work is tedious for me. I’m not a natural adventurer. Who wants danger? But jewelry, that’s something else again.” He held up his hands and admired them. “Who would not want their wrists to glow with jewels? But I have almost as many jewels as I need now, enough to change completely every day for the rest of my life. I’m thinking of settling down and breeding soon, after I return from Forma. Do you two plan to breed?”
 

“We have no plans now,” said Moor. “The future keeps finding us before we can make a plan.”
 

“Then let the future come again! We’ll leave tomorrow. I can use some good servants. I don’t mean that! I consider us equals!” said Zem. His voice squeaked as he spoke. Later I was to learn that it squeaked whenever he lied. Sometimes it was hard to tell because he possessed an unusually high voice for a man, particularly a big man. “I swear to you, you will not be my servant. Moor saved my life once. And I’m the one taking the chance. It’ll be two against one if there are any disagreements. I’ll lose every debate.”
 

“We haven’t eaten in days,” said Moor.
 

“What? Didn’t my driver feed you? I told him to,” his voice squeaked. “I swear to you I did. Let me feed you.”
 

“You act like all the other immigrants to Artroro,” I said. “It’s hard to know when you tell the truth.”
 

He laughed. “What? You mean you don’t assume I’m always lying? How flattering.”
 

“As a Soom Kali I would hope we could depend on you,” said Moor.
 

“Unfortunately, you probably can. If I could just be more unreliable to people who can’t help me, maybe I would get further ahead.” He smiled warmly at Moor. “There are so few of our people here it’s difficult for me. I feel lonely sometimes. Perhaps we can compete later, throw some knives.” He turned to me. “No one can throw a knife like Moor.”
 

“I’ve seen that.”
 

We followed Zem into the kitchen. He walked slightly bow-legged, and his feet fell heavily with each step. Moor in contrast moved sleekly, the way Shami did. Zem tripped over some packages in the hallway, and his feet pounded to the floor. Moor and I smiled at each other. “You’d be surprised how graceful he is in an emergency,” Moor said.