Key to Destiny

  Another sour woman rose and stepped into the center. “Outrage. It was bad enough their doing it in secret, but doing it openly is worse. If we countenance this, we become supporters of corruption. They must either return to their men and do their duty by them, or depart far from our sight."

  Several more spoke, most of them mature women. Aspect found it interesting that the women seemed to have stronger feelings on the subject than the men. Perhaps it was that to a man, any woman was looking for a man, and only if she could not find a man did she turn to a woman. That wasn't true, but men's sexual notions were crafted largely on illusion anyway.

  Then it was time for the defense. Aspect spoke first. “You have known these two women throughout. You know they have already done their duty by their husbands and the village, raising eight fine children. If the vote were put to the children, there would be no question of their fitness."

  “Falsity,” one of the prosecution women said angrily.

  Aspect pounced on it; she had long experience managing the reactions of large audiences and knew the advantage of flair. She also knew the nature of children, whatever their Chroma. “You believe I speak falsely? Then let's have a showing of the children.” She looked around, her eye catching those of many of the children who lurked around the outside of the group. Usually children were seated up front, but this was no entertainment play, and they were excluded from participation. “Children!” she called. “This doesn't count, but you can still show how you feel. Come here to the center, all of you!"

  “Irregular,” the elder woman protested.

  “You challenged my statement,” Aspect said firmly. “I must defend my credibility."

  Other villagers nodded. Aspect's statement had been rhetorical, but now needed to be defended. The elder had unwittingly opened the door.

  The children were glad to have the attention. They flocked in, about thirty of them, ranging from just below marriage age to toddler. They were tittering excitedly at this unexpected recognition.

  “Now we'll have a division of the group,” Aspect said. “All who want to banish these two mothers stand here.” She indicated a spot near the prosecution elder. “All who want these women to stay in Edge Village stand here.” She gestured to a spot near Mender and Sympathy.

  Perhaps five gray children walked toward the exile place. The rest ran to the seated women. They didn't just stand, they clustered around them, chorusing their Greetings, taking their hands, hugging them. Some were crying. It seemed that most of the children of the village had close relations with these two mothers. The five saw that, hesitated, and then went to join the others. It was hard for a child to be part of a clear minority.

  Aspect made a grand gesture with her hands: Observe. She had made her point. One thing was sure: the other side would not challenge her again. They had discovered the hard way that she was an experienced handler of groups. That was important, because this was going to be an unusual presentation.

  It took a while for the children to clear the stage. Several of the older ones lingered, looking seriously out into the adult audience. They were silently challenging their own parents, making them feel guilty about the proceedings.

  “What is more important than motherhood?” Aspect asked rhetorically. “The children know. What business is it of anyone else whom a woman embraces at night, as long as she's an asset to the village by day, and there for the children? You know these are fine people—whom you now propose to punish for their honesty. You think no woman ever loved a woman before, in secret? As if forcing them to embrace men again would do the village any favor, when there are more women here than men. Which other women will have to be exiled, because there are no men for them to marry here? You should be thankful you have an alternative.” But she saw that wasn't going over; the specter of unnatural sex did not allow for convenient alternatives.

  “But argument is useless,” Aspect continued. “Instead we propose to show you the essence of what you contemplate."

  Now Ennui and Nonce came to the stage, swathed in encompassing cloaks. Nonce carried a staff, though it was evident she did not need support. Ennui took center stage, an obscure figure facing away from Aspect.

  Without preamble, Aspect sang, drawing on all the power of her restored voice. She was aware of the surprise of the villagers; there had been no prior hint that she was a singer. Indeed, she had not been, since her youth. Nonce joined in, providing a supportive chorus; this was a standard device in minstrel presentations, and understood as such. The song was of course well familiar; all the ancient songs of Origin Earth Planet were constantly circulated throughout the human community, and the monoChroma zones did not affect the wording. It was its sudden rendition at the serious hearing that was startling.

  Black black black is the color of my true love's hair

  Her lips are like some rosy fair

  The prettiest face and the neatest hands

  I love the ground whereon she stands.

  As Aspect sang, Ennui slowly turned, letting her cloak fall to the ground. She shook out her dark hair, which was surprisingly luxuriant. Here in this gray Chroma zone, the effect was considerable; no woman here had hair like that.

  I love my love and well she knows

  I love the ground on where she goes

  If she no more on earth I see

  My life will quickly fade away.

  Ennui smiled and removed her shirt, showing her fine breasts. There was a murmur through the audience. After the first shock of the emergence of the song, they were realizing that this serenade was by a woman to a woman, and not merely spiritually. The woman was a sex object.

  The fact was that while any man could relate to a well formed woman, so could many women. Ennui now had the kind of form most women longed to have. The kind that was a magnet for male attention.

  Then Nonce advanced. She gestured with her staff in a Go Away signal. Ennui, obedient, picked up her shirt and cloak and walked off the stage.

  Aspect, seeing that, bowed her head in projected sorrow. The village authority had denied the right of a woman to love a woman. She sang, drawing on the ikon to project feeling.

  I go to troublesome to mourn and weep

  But satisfied I ne'er could sleep

  I'll write you in a few little lines

  I'll suffer death ten thousand times.

  So fare you well, my own true love

  The time has come and I wish you well

  But still I hope the time will come

  When you and I will be as one.

  There it was: love and exile. Changing it to female-female made all the difference. The villagers were uneasy; they well understood the joys of love, but didn't want to understand this type of love. It was a popular song, generating powerful emotion—which was uncomfortable in this circumstance. Especially since Ennui had become a truly lovely woman, so that anyone could understand loving her.

  Aspect brought out a little pad, and quickly wrote on it. These were the “few little lines” to her lover. Nonce glided up, took the note, and carried it offstage. Then Aspect departed to the other side.

  Ennui returned, reading the note; she had received the letter. She hurried after Aspect, but was too late; Aspect was gone, facing away from the stage.

  Then Ennui broke into song, and Nonce supported her vocally too. Ennui was not as apt as Aspect, but her ikon gave her a better than average voice, and it, too, projected well. This time it was “Greensleeves,” with the color understood despite the Chroma monochrome.

  Alas, my love, you do me wrong

  To cast me off discourteously

  When I have loved you so long

  Delighting in your company.

  Now it was Aspect who faced away, dropping her cloak to reveal her own figure. She joined with the other two for the chorus; this too was standard, and did not mean she was really participating. Everyone had to sing, in dramatized songs.

  Greensleeves was my delight

  Greensleeves was all m
y joy

  Greensleeves was my heart of gold

  And who but my Lady Greensleeves?

  The song continued, as the lover poured out her grief at being denied. It concluded:

  Greensleeves, now farewell, adieu

  God I pray to prosper thee

  For I am still thy lover true

  Come once again and love me.

  Ennui gave up and walked away. Only then, in the measured timing of such drama, did Aspect turn back and address her again in song. By this time the fact that this was woman to woman love was established, and the audience was accepting it, at least for the assimilation of the show. This time the song was less familiar but nonetheless beautiful and feeling:

  In the gloaming, oh my darling,

  When the lights are dim and low

  And the quiet shadows stealing

  Softly come and softly go.

  When the winds are sobbing faintly

  With a gentle unknown woe

  Will you think of me and love me

  As you did once long ago?

  For this was the voice of the one who had left, despite loving. It was painful, and the pain came through as the ikon lent Aspect even more evocative power. She could feel it affecting the audience.

  In the gloaming, oh my darling

  Think not bitterly of me

  Though I passed away in silence

  Left you lonely, left you free

  For my heart was crushed with longing

  What had been could never be.

  It was best to leave you thus, dear

  Best for you and best for me.

  But Ennui had not yet departed the stage. As Aspect sang, she paused, and turned, and slowly oriented on her. When Aspect finished, she stepped toward her, and sang, with Nonce providing support and Aspect joining the refrain.

  Tell me the tales that to me were so dear

  Long long ago, long long ago.

  Sing me the songs I delighted to hear

  Long long ago, long ago.

  Now you are come all my grief is removed

  Let me forget that so long you have roved

  Let me believe that you love as you loved

  Long long ago, long ago.

  As Ennui completed the song, they came together, reunited. Aspect was aware of the audience feeling for them, relieved that reconciliation had been achieved.

  They embraced and kissed, woman to woman. Aspect knew it was an evocative moment.

  “Outrage!” Nonce cried. “Obscenity!” She charged in from the edge of the stage and thwacked her staff hard against Ennui's back. The sound was loud in the quiet of the kiss.

  Ennui dropped to the floor and lay still. She was stage dead. The blow had not hurt her, because of the ikon; in fact it had required special technique to cause it to land at all. But it was impressive in this context.

  Nonce faced away, careless of the deed she had done.

  Aspect seemed not to know what had happened. This too was a conventional stage device, dramatic irony: the leading character did not know what the audience knew. She walked away, lay down as on a bed, closed her eyes, and sang:

  I dreamed a dream the other night

  Lowlands, lowlands, away my John

  I saw my love dressed all in white

  My Lowlands away.

  As she sang, Ennui quietly got up and stood, in white.

  She came to me by my bedside

  Dressed all in white like some fair bride

  Ennui walked to the “bed” and stood beside it.

  And proudly in her bosom there

  A red red rose my love did wear.

  And Ennui did have a red patch of cloth there, suggesting the flower.

  She made no sound, no word she said

  And then I knew my love was dead.

  In shock, Aspect sat up. Simultaneously Ennui dropped, lying sprawled as she had before. This was reality returning. Ennui in the gown had been a vision, a ghost.

  Aspect kneeled by the body, horrified. She looked beseechingly at Nonce, but she remained adamantly facing away. No help there.

  Aspect sang once more, a fragment from “Barbary Allen,” one of the most familiar ballads. Just one word was modified.

  O mother, mother, make my bed

  O make it long and narrow

  Sweet Willa died for me today

  I'll die for her tomorrow.

  Then she collapsed over the body of her lost love. She was dead too. Nonce remained standing, facing away, unrepentant. The message was plain: bigotry had slain the lovers. A needless tragedy.

  The tableau held, none of them moving. Then one of the children started crying. In a moment several more joined in, and then some of the adults.

  “Division of the village,” the female elder snapped. She was calling the vote before there was any more erosion of her case.

  The villagers got up and moved. Some went to join the elder; more went to stand beside the seated defendants. The children went there too.

  Still the tableau on stage held. Nonce did not move. She was facing the elder woman. Aspect and Ennui lay as they were; Aspect's head was to the side so she could see Nonce and the elder and part of the audience. They were forcing the issue.

  Nonplused by the disparity, the elder looked around, but found only her closest supporters. She had lost the vote.

  She made the best of it. “The village must be united,” she said, and walked across to join the other side. Her companions went with her. Now it was unanimous.

  And now at last the stage tableau ended. Nonce turned back to face the others, and Aspect and Ennui got up. As a group they walked to Mender and Sympathy. “Live as you choose,” Aspect told them. “Your village supports you."

  They embraced each other and dissolved in tears.

  * * * *

  Next morning the guide reported to their house. “Introduction: I am Crow. I will take you safely to Death Valley.” He was a young gray man, burly and rough-hewn.

  “I am On,” Ennui said. “My companions are Speck and No. Appreciation."

  They were packed and ready to resume travel. They left the house clean, not knowing when or whether they would be back. They followed Crow out of the village. The path was wide enough for two, so Ennui paced the man, and Aspect and Nonce followed.

  When they were clear, Crow spoke again. “Comment: you are some women!"

  “Response,” Ennui said cautiously. “We are not lesbian, despite the play. We had a case to make."

  “Understanding. And what a case you made! Admiration."

  “Appreciation."

  Crow was now talkative, as the ice was broken. “I thought the case was lost, and I was amazed when you started singing. I never thought you were a minstrel troupe."

  “Recent formation."

  “Those songs—you changed them to fit. I thought it was crazy at first, but then I got into it and it seemed sensible. I never realized women could love women, but it began to make sense. I'm glad they're staying. When I was a child I cut my finger once and Sympathy comforted me and Mender mended it. I never forgot."

  “They are good women,” Ennui agreed. Then, curious, she asked a standard question. “How were you named?"

  “I practiced with my sling,” he said, showing the small weapon he carried. “I wanted to hunt with the men, but I was only twelve and they thought I'd be a drag. But they gave me a chance. ‘Try that crow,’ one told me as a crow flew by. I hurled my stone and brought it down. After that they let me hunt, and I had my name. How were you named?"

  Ennui smiled. “I am not going by my real name, because our mission is private. I can't tell you. None of us can."

  “Understanding,” he said, disappointed.

  Ennui's dragon seed buzzed. That surprised her; how was she going wrong? Crow had wanted to get to know her better, and she had denied him. But surely she couldn't tell him her real identity. The buzz had come as he spoke, but she was sure he wasn't lying. So where was the wrongness?

&nb
sp; Then it came to her: they had been warming to each other, and she was now a beautiful woman. She kept forgetting. Men always thought of one thing when they encountered such women. She had denied him that by declining further personal knowledge. He thought it was all or nothing.

  “I will make it up to you,” she said impulsively.

  “You don't owe me anything. I'm honoring the village's deal."

  “You assume I was offering no fault sex?"

  Crow blushed. “Apology."

  She liked that. She had never before been pretty, but neither had she ever been naïve in the village manner. “I was."

  The blush was worse. “Confusion."

  “Travel is customarily no fault. I have no objection. I can't tell you my real identity, but we can relate in other ways. That's the nature of no fault."

  Now he understood. But it seemed he wasn't used to no fault, as he had never traveled to other Chroma. “You—Lady, you—when you stripped halfway down yesterday on stage—I thought you were older, but then—"

  “I am older. Over thirty."

  “Doubt."

  “But I encountered magic that enhanced me. Perhaps there will be something I want of you. Then we can trade.” That gave him a chance to earn it, and should make him more comfortable. The seed hadn't buzzed again, so it seemed that this was what it had in mind. Actually the dragon seeds didn't have minds, but it was easier to assign rationales to their warnings.

  “Excitement!"

  What delight to encounter youthful directness. “You are married, of course?"

  “I love my wife. But she—a month ago she got stung by a poisonous nettle when foraging, and came close to dying. The healer saved her, but her recovery is slow, and she can't work. That's why I agreed to return to guiding to Death Valley; no one else will. It's dangerous. But I have to make our way."

  He was in a tough situation. And if his wife could not work, she probably couldn't have sex either. She felt sorry for him.

  Do it, Aspect's thought came. It's smart to befriend him.

  That was also Ennui's thought, especially considering the seed's warning. “Is there a place we can safely pause?"

  “Affirmation. But if you want to get there and return by nightfall, it is better not to delay.” Then he made a connection. “Oh—you mean for private business?"