Shadow's End

  Across the canyon, on the trail they had descended by, pallid forms were gathering.

  "You arrived just in time," said Leelson from the window.

  Trompe shambled over to stand beside him, staring at the sight. I turned my face away.

  "My god," said Trompe. "How many of them are there?"

  More white forms streamed in from the darkness of the southern canyon, a constant milky flow, a torrent of wings and fluttering membranes.

  "Well," Lutha said in a gargled whisper. "Was this the reason for our hurry? This assemblage?"

  Since she spoke in my own language, I took it she was asking me. I bowed, murmuring, "On this world we do not talk of the things of night. Not in daytime voices. It is not wise."

  "Would they do us harm?" she murmured between sips.

  "Darkness is inimical to light by its very nature," I whispered. "All the beings of darkness, also. Living man may dream or hope as he will, but he must walk in the light. The wise man chooses his way and does not thereafter put himself outside his own pattern." This is the kind of thing the songfathers say, words to make one think one has been told something when, in fact, one has been told nothing at all. These are words to comfort children and strangers.

  She barely nodded, the last effects of the drink draining away into exhaustion. "What you're saying is … "

  She would not accept mere allusion. I bowed my head and spoke sense. "In the dark hours, a man should be at home beside the fire, speaking softly. See how all the animals and birds of day go to rest and to quiet; see how they lie hidden, how they whisper in their lairs. Are we less wise than they? Have we no hive, no hole, no cavern to hold us? And why would we choose to be elsewhere than in our homes?"

  "We might choose for curiosity's sake, perhaps," said Trompe, in my language, though awkwardly. "A desire to know."

  "We become what we know," I said bitterly. "If a woman wishes to stay alive, she must be careful what she knows."

  "Enough," breathed Lutha in her weary voice. "I'm afraid we're all too tired to appreciate the finer points of Dinadhi philosophy. What's your name, by the way?"

  I bowed. "Saluez," I said. "Saluez of the Shadow. Your servant, madam."

  "Assigned to me? Us?"

  "To clean the Famber leasehold. To fetch what you may need, any of you."

  She dismissed me with a gesture, as though I had not even been there. I did not know then that there were shadows on her world, too, that because I had used the word, her reaction was to treat me as one of them. One took no notice of them. Both my words and my veil confused her, mostly because she was so tired. She dismissed me and turned to the others, and for a time thereafter it was as though I did not exist.

  Leelson existed, however. Leelson Famber had been with us on Dinadh for some time. She had things to say to him!

  "As for you, Leelson Famber, I think you owe us an explanation! Me, particularly!" She spoke our language as though, once started on it, she lacked energy to change.

  "My presence is more explicable than yours," he said in his own tongue. "I came as legitimate lineage son of Bernesohn Famber—"

  "You came without bothering to tell anyone at Alliance Prime!" Trompe exploded.

  "Or your mother!" snarled Lutha. "Who is very busy just now advancing your Firster cause by despairing of your posterity and blaming it all on me."

  He looked at them, astonished, his expression gradually changing from irritation to understanding.

  He sat down, drawing Lutha beside him onto one of the cushioned mud benches along the walls. "On my way from Kamir back toward Central, I overheard some crewmen talking of the vanishment of a homo-norm team in Hermes Sector. It reminded me of the last time that had happened, the Ularian thing a century ago. I knew great-great-grandpop had been looking into it; and I knew he'd disappeared here on Dinadh. It was, in a sense, on the way, so I decided to make a brief stopover on the chance he might have left some information here. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and I thought I'd be back before anyone got in an uproar … "

  He made a gesture of annoyance. "And it certainly never occurred to me the Dinadhi would accept Leely as … as lineage son."

  Across the valley the forms swarmed, swirling outward from the cliff face. They would not be content with the far side of the canyon for long. I moved to the shutters and closed them, returning to my former place. The people in the room did not notice me.

  Lutha made an impatient gesture to Trompe, as though saying, "There! See!"

  "I didn't perceive the threat as imminent!" Leelson said emphatically.

  "I don't know what you call imminent, but the world you heard about was only the first. Several more Hermes Sector worlds have been wiped clean," snarled Trompe.

  Leelson looked up in astonishment. "When?"

  "Just before Trompe and I were sent here," Lutha said. "One of the colonists was an old friend of mine. The Procurator used her death as a goad to move me on this journey. God, Leelson! If I'd only known you were here!"

  She fumed, her face set and hard, her anger—which had hottened with Leelson's reference to the boy—warring with her exhaustion. I wondered which god she had invoked. We do not consider it polite to call upon a god as one would a servant. We are careful to use the correct names and polite address.

  As for Leely, he had climbed onto the wall bench nearest me and lay there staring at the ceiling, murmuring over and over, "Dananana, Dananana." I sat down beside him, drawing no attention to myself. We members of the sisterhood learn to do that.

  "Did it never occur to you," Lutha snarled, "that Alliance Prime needed to know where you were?"

  "If this attack followed the same pattern as a century ago, there'd have been plenty of time to advise Prime."

  "And what pattern was that?" Trompe demanded.

  "The first thing that went then was a supply facility on a moon near the far side of the Hermes Sector. It was a standard year before anything else happened, and another year went by before populations were removed from anywhere farther in."

  Trompe snarled, "Well, the Ularians didn't follow the previous pattern. They've completely destroyed or transported colonies on three of the worlds closest to Dinadh. That's what alerted Prime." He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "I suppose your intentions are understandable, though it would have saved a good deal of trouble if someone had known where you were."

  Leelson nodded glumly, accepting this assessment.

  Trompe asked, "Since you've been here awhile, I suppose we should ask if you've found out anything useful."

  Leelson darted his eyes toward me and did not reply.

  I rose and bowed, saying politely, "I will leave you now. Food stores have been augmented in anticipation of your arrival."

  "You knew they were coming?" Leelson demanded in outrage. "You didn't tell me?"

  "If you had asked, you would have been told," I replied, turning away from him toward Lutha. "Other supplies should be adequate for your stay."

  I swept my pile of dust before me as I went out of the room and through the little hall to the door that connected with the hive. It, too, was made of wood, with a lock upon it. I swept my way through, shut the door loudly, then opened it a crack. No one noticed. I was able to hear everything they said.

  "Damn them," Leelson was muttering. "Insular, taciturn, withholding information like that! I could have forestalled your journey … "

  Trompe said, "Calm down, Leelson. We're here now and we're on the same mission you are, so there'll be no conflict. Forget I asked any questions. We're too tired to think about it now. I hope there's space for all of us to sleep."

  I heard Lutha murmuring agreement, then scuffmgs and murmurs as they moved about, exploring the cells. There were plenty of wall benches, plenty of cotton sleeping pads. Bernesohn Famber had used one room for storage, but the other two rooms were large enough for all of them. In the hive, they would have housed a dozen of us, but evidently outlanders needed more privacy than we Dinadhi. r />
  "Leely and I'll take this room," said Lutha from the back room where Leelson had been sleeping. "I presume there's other sleeping space for you men."

  "Plenty of sleeping space," Leelson murmured, moving in and out.

  Though the dispenser could deliver hot food, I had cooked food for their evening meal and left it in food boxes on the shelf. Someone found the boxes, for I heard the sounds of their opening, the little homely noise of spoons and bowls. Those who were eating did so slowly and silently. Perhaps they were too tired to have appetite or enjoy flavor.

  Through the door, I watched while Lutha took Leely into the room she had chosen and Trompe retreated to the storeroom where he'd made up a bed for himself. By opening my door a little wider, I could see into the room where Leelson was. He had spread his own bed on the bench under the window and had opened the shutters a crack, to let in the evening air. I drew in a deep breath and held it, forbidding myself to go in and close the shutters once more. Not while he was awake. He lay for a long time, eyes open, but at last he wearied, closed the shutters himself, and settled to sleep.

  My own sleeping place was near the door, near the outlanders, where, without moving, I could see through the crack. Something was going to happen, because of them or to them, so I had brought my pad and blankets from below. We veiled women have few enough amusements, few enough stories to tell one another. We need to see and hear everything!

  The sound of someone moving about woke me in the mid hours of the night. I saw Lutha come out into the little hallway, where she stood looking in on Leelson. Though I could see only his hand, his sleeve, it was enough to tell me he had, as usual, slept only a little before rising to busy himself with Bernesohn's equipment. Often he spent the night so, muttering to himself and making notes. His back was toward Lutha, and she spent a long time staring at him, fury and longing battling on her face. Later she told me her feelings for him were like surf, love and lust pounding at her, only to recede, leaving pools of chilly, clear anger behind.

  I grew weary watching her silent battle, and I had shut my eyes when she spoke at last:

  "I can't understand why you didn't tell someone!"

  The legs of the chair scraped on the floor. It was Bernesohn's chair, the only chair I had ever seen except in Simidi-ala. We do not use chairs in the hives.

  He growled, "You can come in, Lutha."

  She bit her lip as she went into the room to join him. Though I could not see them, I could hear them clearly.

  He said, "What I can't understand is your bringing the child out here."

  She blurted, "I wasn't given a choice, Leelson!"

  "I'm sure the Procurator didn't force you."

  "He gave me to understand my doing what he asked might have something to do with human survival," she snarled. "Which would move most of us, even those of us who aren't Fastigats or Firsters." She came back into the doorway, half in, half out of the room.

  He spoke from behind her. "Your coming, I understand. I said I couldn't understand your bringing the child."

  Her expression was disbelieving. "Listen to yourself. Damn it, Leely is Famber lineage—"

  "No," said Leelson firmly. "He is not Famber lineage. Not according to Fastigat custom."

  "Your own people are supporting him!"

  "Fastigat responsibility is one thing. Famber lineage is another. Each has its own parameters."

  "You only say that because he's not … "

  "Normal? Of course. Fastigat lineage, under Fastigat law, requires a basic condition of humanity. That's where we separate from the Firsters. They would accept Leely, we won't. Humanity, under Fastigat law, has a specific definition."

  She glared at him. "You're saying your own son is not human!"

  "Lutha—"

  "Leelson!"

  They fell silent simultaneously. I thought at first they were concerned about being overheard, but perhaps it was only to get control of themselves that they stopped when they did.

  "My belief concerning the child is at least as sensible as yours," he said at last, rather sadly. "You're trying to hope him into superhuman status, into some new avatar of humanity. We Fastigats, on the other hand, say simply he does not meet our definition."

  "You don't think he's human!" she charged again.

  "No."

  "Even though you and I are—"

  "Lutha, we've said this—"

  "I don't care … "

  He sighed deeply, wearily. He said:

  "Genetic programming sometimes goes awry and produces a nonreplica. At the cellular level, such mistakes are eradicated. We remove warts; we cure cancers. At a slightly higher level, we remove extra limbs resulting from incomplete twinning. We do all this without great emotional hurricanes. But when the mistake is at a neurocortical level, when the body looks human, or even rather human, emotions get mixed in—"

  She interrupted him with an outthrust arm, rigid and furious.

  "Let's not discuss it," he suggested. "We won't agree, Lutha. We can't. Let's agree to accept each other's position. If you had to bring him, you had to bring him. I'll accept that you believed it was necessary."

  She moved into the room and out of my sight. I sneaked into the dark hallway and stood where I could watch them. She was facing the closed shutters, her arms crossed, her hands clutching her shoulders, hugging herself, perhaps cautioning herself. He had gone back to the table and was sorting through the record chips Bernesohn Famber had left strewn about. My mother had gathered them up and put them in boxes, but some of them had already been nibbled by corn-rats. Corn-rats can survive only because we have made hives safe for ourselves, making havens for them in the process.

  "Bernesohn didn't believe in labels," Leelson murmured. "I've been going through chips for the last three days, and I've yet to find anything that's identified. He also didn't believe in filing categories. Some of these chips have a dozen different things on them."

  Lutha wasn't willing to give up the former topic. "The people here in Cochin-Mahn knew you were here, didn't they? Chahdzi knew you were here. Hell, probably the people in the Edge knew you were here!"

  "Of course. Chahdzi brought me here, just as he did you, and I came through the Edge, just as you did. I was surprised that the housekeeper did not tell me you were coming."

  "Why didn't they tell us? I could have been partway home by now!"

  "Well, it's the same question I asked Saluez, isn't it? You didn't ask them if I was here. I didn't ask them if someone else was coming." He shook his head at her. "If they'd volunteered the information, you'd have left without paying for the hover you no doubt rented, and the guides, and the supplies. Dinadhi don't do anything that discourages custom. They need hard currency too much."

  He inserted a file chip into the retriever and pressed it firmly home.

  A woman stood in the center of the room, her voice making a fountain of sound, lovely as falling water in an arid land. Then another woman stood beside her, singing, a voice joined to itself, a duet of pure wonder. The scent of something flowery and spicy filled my nose. I tasted wine. My body ached with wanting …

  It was only a fragment, over in a moment. Sensurround, they call it. Magic. Oh, to think of that being here all these years! If I had only known!

  "Tospia," breathed Lutha. She took a deep breath, then another. She was trembling. I could see it from where I stood. But then, so was I.

  "You played that one for me a long time ago," she said, her voice yearning.

  He did not answer for a moment, but when he did, the words came crisply, without emotion. "Since there are no labels, I never know whether I'll find an aria, a shopping list, a lubricious monologue, or something significant."

  He removed the song chip from the retriever and began clicking other chips into it, one by one. Voices muttered. Vagrant scents came and went. I tasted herbs, mud, smoke.

  "You've found nothing so far?" she asked. She had gained control of herself and her voice was as impersonal as his own.

/>   "One fragmentary memorandum. I marked it. It's here somewhere. I'll run across it in a moment."

  I got out of sight as she wandered back into the bedroom where Leely lay sprawled, running her fingers along the walls, along the small, barred air-vent openings. At the storage cubicles, she began a meticulous search. Top to bottom, left to right, missing none, scamping none.

  In the third compartment of the second row, she found a set of holograms and a display stand. I knew what they showed. Herself. Herself and Leelson. Different places. Different times. None of them with Leely.

  In the next compartment below, she came upon clothing she evidently recognized, for she held it up, smiling, shaking her head. A rainbow-beaded vest. A belt of iridescent leather. Shirts and trousers and a long, warm coat of rare earthsheep's wool. At least Leelson had said it was earthsheep, though none of them existed on earth—Alliance Central—anymore.

  I disappeared into my storeroom when I heard Trompe moving around. He came to Lutha's door, demanding, "What?"

  "Looking for anything Bernesohn may have left, but all this stuff belongs to Leelson," she replied.

  In the next room, Leelson inserted a chip that whined and scratched before speaking clearly and plainly. During the past several days I'd heard it more than once. The voice was scratchy and a little cantankerous. At hearing it, both Lutha and Trompe crossed into the room where Leelson was.

  … 'fore leaving make record of … following significant findings … Ularians … reason for Dinadh's immunity … oldest settled world in the sector … only one, here or elsewhere, where the present inhabitants are mumble-mumble as to origin.

  "Is that the memorandum you mentioned?" asked Lutha while the chip made scratchy, whining noises.

  "This is the only one I've found that says anything about the Ularians," said Leelson. "Unfortunately, there are only a few clear places. Something has chewed on the chip."

  He fiddled with the machine; it repeated the last phrase several times, to origin, to origin, to origin.

  … narrowed field of inquiry … taken steps to … remedy situation … considering factors that seem … Dinadhi omphalos and abandoned gods … tell Tospia … rejoinder of my lineage …