Authors: Joan D. Vinge
“I taught
it to her,” Gundhalinu said, before Jerusha could fill her mouth with the
obvious response. Gundhalinu put his arm around Moon’s shoulders, drew her back
to him, closed her in. “And with due respect to the honorable Speaker, I wish
to say that if I her Gundhalinu-esMrad made, if she my wife were, she would the
honor of my entire class raise.”
The
astonishment verged on horror this time. Jerusha stared with the rest.
“—appalled”—a woman’s voice from somewhere in the rear among them.
“G\mdhalimu-
eshkrad
,” Sirus shifted position
uncomfortably, “you have a great hardship endured, we understand that ...”
Gundhalinu
faltered under the unanimity of their censure. His arms loosened, but his hands
still rested on Moon’s shoulders.
“Yes,
sadhu
,” apologetically.
“But I will not her insulted hear.
She saved my life.”
“Of
course.” Sirus smiled again. “But you don’t her intend to marry—” He glanced
from side to side.
“She loves
another,” almost sadly. Moon turned under his hands to look at him.
“Then you
would her marry?” the Speaker said indignantly. “Have you no pride left? Are
you so degenerate? To say such a thing without shame! You’re already a
failed-suicide!” The word also meant
coward
.
Gundhalinu
sucked in a breath, coughing. “I attempted the honorable thing. It isn’t my
fault if I failed!” He held out his hands.
“It is
always the fault of a truly superior man when he fails.” Another official, one
Jerusha didn’t recognize. “A failed-suicide doesn’t deserve to live.”
Gundhalinu’s
battered shield of self-worth fell apart entirely; he stumbled back the few
steps to the examining table, clung there as though the very words were a
mortal blow. “Forgive me,
sadhanu
,
bhai
, for—for disgracing my class and my
family.” He could not even look at them. “I never deserved the honor of your
respect, or even your presence. But I deserve your scorn and your execration
fully. I am no better than a slave, a crawling animal.” His arms trembled;
Jerusha moved quickly to support him before he collapsed.
“What’s the
matter with you people!” She threw the accusation over her shoulder, heedless.
“What do you want from him? Do you want him to slash his wrists
again,
do you want to watch his ‘honor’ drain into the
sink?” She waved a hand. “One of your own people, a brave, decent officer, has
gone through hell and was strong enough to survive; and all you can say to him
is ‘drop dead!’”
“You’re not
one of us, Commander,” Sirus said quietly. “Gundhalinu . understands. But you
never could.”
“Thank the
gods for that.” Jerusha helped Gundhalinu up onto the table, not acknowledging
their departure as the muttering officials began to leave the room. She heard
the Speaker’s voice rise to the surface of sound deliberately, to call
Gundhalinu by a form of address reserved for the lowest Unclassified.
Gundhalinu’s mouth quivered; he swallowed convulsively.
“Citizen
Sirus!”
Jerusha
found Moon’s voice an excuse to turn away while Gundhalinu got control of himself.
She saw Sirus hesitate in the doorway, and the girl’s struggle to curb her own
white anger as she looked at him. It was successful; Jerusha saw the anger
submerged by another more urgent emotion.
“I—I must
to you speak.”
Sirus
raised his eyebrows, glanced toward Gundhalinu. “I think that too many words
already have been said.”
She shook
her head with stubborn resolution, her lank, pale hair flopping. “About—about
someone else.”
“Do you as
a sibyl ask?”
Another
shake. “I ask as your niece.” His limbs stopped trying to move him through the
doorway. The rear guard of the departing Kharemoughis looked back, tittered
scandal as they went on out into the hallway. Jerusha blinked, felt Gundhalinu
straighten up beside her. “About your son. From the last Festival.”
Sirus’s
eyes looked briefly into the past. He nodded once, and with another glance
their way beckoned Moon into the other room. She went after him, looking back.
Gundhalinu’s
eyes followed her, as though to lose sight of her now would be more than he
could endure; but his face was hopeless.
“BZ ...
Inspector Gundhalinu.” Jerusha demanded his attention with a sharpened voice.
“Ma’am.”
His head swung back obediently, but his attention did not come with it.
Jerusha
hesitated, suddenly unsure of what she was about to do. “BZ ... you aren’t
really in love with that girl, are you?”
His throat
worked. “And what if I am, Commander?” too evenly. “It may be a scandal, but
it’s not a crime.”
“BZ, don’t
you realize who she is?”
He glanced
up, and she read his guilt. He didn’t answer.
“She’s the
girl we lost to the tech runners five years ago,” telling him what he already
knew, hoping that would be enough. “She’s proscribed, an illegal returnee.
She’ll have to be deported.”
“Commander,
I can’t—” His good hand tightened on the padded tabletop.
“If you’re
really in love with her, BZ, then it doesn’t have to be a problem.” She smiled
encouragingly. “Marry her. Take her off as your wife.”
“I can’t.”
He picked up a spine-sharp probe from the tray at the end of the table, tested
it against his palm.
She said
hastily, “You’re not going to let those hypocritical snobs—”
“It’s not
that.” He stiffened. “And you will not speak of the Hegemony’s leaders in such
a manner. They had every right to criticize me.”
Jerusha
opened her mouth, closed it again.
“Moon
wouldn’t marry me.” He put the probe down again. “She’s—uh, pledged,” as though
that unofficial bond was still improper in some part of his mind. “To her
cousin ... First Secretary Sirus’s son.” He looked toward the doorway again,
incredulously. “She’s in love with him. She’s been trying all this time to get
to Carbuncle to look for him.” He spoke the facts flatly, like someone reading
a report. “His name is Sparks Dawntreader.”
“Sparks?”
“You know
him?”
“Yes. And
so do you. We saved him from slavers once, the day of your last visit to the
palace. After that Arienrhod picked him up; he’s been one of her favorites at
court ever since. And it’s turned him rotten.”
Gundhalinu
frowned. “Then it’s possible ...”
“What is?”
“Moon thinks
he’s become Starbuck.”
“Starbuck!”
Jerusha put a hand to her forehead. “Yes—yes, it does fit. Thank you, gods! And
thank
you
.” She turned back to him
grimly. “I’ve been trying to learn who Starbuck is, so I can nail him for
murder, and illegally killing mers.”
“Murder?”
Gundhalinu started.
She nodded.
“He murdered a dillyp, or let his Hounds do it. And I thought he’d murdered
Moon too ... but it’s still enough. This time I’ll sting Arienrhod where it
hurts!”
So you’ve gone rottener than I ever
dreamed, Dawntreader.
She saw in her mind a battered boy with a smashed
flute, a killer in black against the image of a corpse-strewn shore.
Never in my wildest nightmares did I imagine
you’d fall so high.
“I—promised
Moon that we’d find him ... help him, if we could. The Change will get him
anyway, if we can’t.”
“Don’t be
so sure of that. So Moon still wants him back, even after what she must have
seen him do on that beach?” Jerusha was struck by the sudden disconcerting
realization that Sparks had belonged to both Arienrhod and Moon ... and still
did.
Arienrhod’s clone
.
“How did
you know about that?” Gundhalinu said.
“Never
mind.” Jerusha reached out, touched a conical metal device attached to sensor
pads.
“She says
she still loves him. You don’t simply stop, after years .... She only wants to
know whether he feels the same way about her.” A glimmer of lost hope surfaced.
Is that really all she wants?
“I can’t let her loose in the city,
BZ.” Jerusha shook her head, fingering brass on her collar. “I’m sorry. But I
can’t risk it.”
“I don’t
understand. She’s not going to contaminate anyone. I’ll stay with her until we
find him.”
“And then
what?”
He lifted
his hands, dropped them again. “I don’t know ... Commander, the Change is
almost here, and when it happens it’s not going to matter whether she’s been
off world or not. The Summers hate the whole idea. She was only on Kharemough a
few weeks. What harm can she do?”
“You’re
asking me what harm a sibyl can do here, when she knows the reason for her
existence?” almost angrily. “If we manage to pick up Starbuck, she can share a
cell with him. But otherwise, believe me, it’s better for all concerned if she
never sees him again, and he never sees her.”
“I can’t
believe I’m hearing that from you.” The words were heavy with sullen
accusation.
“And I
can’t believe I’m hearing you say she’s no threat, Gundhalinu! What the hell’s
gotten into you?”
Don’t push me, BZ. Be a
good Blue, and accept it; don’t make me hurt you now.
“I care
about her. It seems to me that ought to mean something.” He began to cough,
pressing his chest.
“More than
your duty to the law?”
“She’s just
one innocent Summer girl! Why the hell can’t we leave it alone?” It had the
sound of a man in torment; Jerusha realized that he was his own most
unforgiving inquisitor.
“She’s not
just another Summer, BZ,” she said with heavy reluctance. “Haven’t you ever
noticed how much she resembles Arienrhod?” His expression said that she was out
of her mind.
“I’m
serious, Gundhalinu! I have every reason to believe the Queen got herself
cloned somehow. And the only reason she could possibly have for that would be
that she doesn’t want Winter to end.” She told him everything, every detail of
the circumstantial evidence. “So you see—Moon is a sibyl. I can’t risk letting
Arienrhod get her hands on—on
herself
,
carrying a deadly weapon like that. She’s doing all she can to hold on to her
power.”
And go on corrupting everything
she touches on this world
. “But I’m doing anything I can to make sure she
doesn’t get away with it. And that includes keeping Moon out of her hands.”
“I can’t
believe that.” Gundhalinu shook his head, and she realized that he couldn’t.
“Moon—Moon is like no one I ever met. She’s nothing like Arienrhod! She cares
about everyone, everything—and they feel it in her. If there’s a spark of
decency in a man or woman she makes it catch fire. They fall in love with her
... they can’t help it.” An inane smile turned up the corners of his mouth.
Jerusha
grimaced. “For gods’ sakes, BZ, nobody’s that wonderful.”
“She is.
Just talk to her.”
“I’d better
not even look at her, if she’s all you claim. No wonder they say ‘love is
blind,”“ gently. She felt her own apologetic smile grow as healthy resentment
turned his mouth into a line. “Your perspective is out of synch, BZ, that’s
all. You need a good meal and a lot of sleep, and time to believe you’re back
in the world you belong to.”
“Don’t
patronize me!” He hit the instrument tray, things leaped and glittered. Jerusha
winced. “I know where I am, and I don’t belong here any more! I’m not fit to be
a police inspector, I’m not fit to belong to the human race. All I want is to
keep the one promise I’m still capable of keeping, to the one person who
doesn’t give a damn what I’ve become. And now you’re trying to tell me she’s a
monster; and that I have to keep her from the one thing she wants when it’s
almost in her hands!”
“I’m
telling you it’s your duty as a police officer to protect the Hegemony! That
has to come first. You can’t start bending the law to fit your personal tastes.
It doesn’t work that way.”
I should know.
“Then I
resign.”
“I don’t
accept your resignation. You’re in no state to offer it—and you’re too valuable
to me. I need every man I’ve got until that final ship goes up.” She knew as
she spoke that there was infinitely more at stake: a career, a man’s
self-respect, maybe even his life. “Listen to me; please, BZ. You know I
wouldn’t have told you all this unless I believed it. Arienrhod is a threat!”
And a monster and a disease
.
“She’s a danger to the Hegemony, and that makes Moon a danger,”
whatever she is
. “And Starbuck is a
vicious murderer, who’s killed whatever Sparks Dawntreader once was as surely
as he’s killed a thousand mers. Think, Gundhalinu, think about it! You’re still
a good officer—you can’t deny that you’re neglecting your duty. And you’re not
doing Moon a favor to turn her over to them.” Reason began to seep back into
Gundhalinu’s eyes, and a dark resolve.
Stay
with me, BZ
.
Moon
reappeared in the doorway, looking back over her shoulder, her face pinched
with frustration and disappointment. Beyond her, Sirus was leaving the outer
room.
Damn, not when I’ve almost won!
Jerusha turned back to Gundhalinu, saw with abrupt relief that his expression
had not changed. “BZ,” she whispered, “you don’t have to be the one. I’ll have
her taken in by someone else. Stay here until they’ve treated you. You need
rest and—”