*No, both are magnificent. I was most pleased.*
Herald considered briefly. /Perhaps I have overlooked a nuance of Ast meaning. I perceive no service I can offer./
*All I require is that you examine my Shield and give me your completely candid opinion.*
/I shall be gratified to. I offer no other type of opinion than candid./
Whorl twined to another section of his convolute residence, and Herald followed. Here in the living rock bordering a corkscrew chamber was emblazoned in relief a creature-sized Shield of Arms.
It was beautiful. The outer shield was in the shape of an ellipse set at an angle, representing Galaxy Andromeda, bordered inside by a wreath of intertwining serpents to designate Sphere Ast. Within that were the Family Arms of Precipice, resembling an ornate overhanging cliff. Herald moved his loops across it, savoring its aspects. It had superior form, texture, and color, and was, in its fashion, a genuine work of art. The King of Arms of Ast was certainly a master!
*What do you find?* The query was urgent.
/I find an excellent and flawless emblazon./
*Did you not say 'blazon' before?*
The tedious questions of amateurs! But Herald repressed his annoyance, for courtesy was vital to his profession.
/I did, Whorl. The 'blazon' of a Shield of Arms is the precise linguistic specification of its elements. To 'emblazon' is to render this description into physical actuality./
*I comprehend. The one is the description, the other is the carving. I feared for a moment there was something wrong with it.*
/No, your Achievement is quite in order. Azurine, a cliff of thirty-seven rocks and forty-two rills, alternately thirteen, twelve, thirteen, seven, eleven, twenty-three, pearline, all within a bordure of the Serpents Rampant./
Herald winced inwardly as he communicated, for the old-style heraldic term "rampant" was restricted to certain quadrupedal beasts of prey, standing erect on the left foot raising the right foot in stride, balancing with the left forefoot outthrust, the right raised to strike. It was technically impossible for a legless serpent to be "rampant." But the broadening of the system to include diverse Cluster cultures had forced the fudging of some terms. However, as he had informed Whorl, the local Colleges of Arms defined legitimacy. So he had to accept it, nonsensical as it was in derivation. Regardless, this remained an excellent Shield of Arms, in concept and execution.
But as this chain of thought proceeded on the surface, something more insidious was percolating in the depths. Abruptly it surfaced. Herald suppressed a quiver of sheer incredulity.
*Continue, Herald,* Whorl vibrated anxiously. But Herald could not continue. He was too busy stifling an emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. *You perceive!* Whorl shuddered. *You are aware!* Herald controlled himself with difficulty. /I regret I may not help you. I shall refund your fee./
*No! Every knowledgeable entity to whom I have so proudly displayed this Achievement has laughed! None will tell me why. It is as if some huge private joke exists at my expense. All say the Shield of Arms is perfect yet they practically uncoil in their obscene mirth. Now you do the same. I have paid—I insist to know—you must perform service, by the honor of your profession. What is wrong with my Shield?*
Herald writhed away. /Nothing is wrong. It is completely accurate in execution./
*There you go again! That cannot be! I demand to be advised!*
Herald quivered carefully. /There is one qualification. But it is unusual, of no technical account. You would prefer not to know. I void your fee and depart./
Whorl flung himself into an anguished knot. *Accept your fee or void it—that matters not! I charge you by the Lot of Asterisk—tell me!*
Herald paused. The Ast had invoked a powerful convention that required the truthful exchange of information. But there were certain key reservations.
/By the Lot of Asterisk I may not tell you, for I now perceive the answer would harm you./
*I absolve you of all guilt for that harm, Herald! Tell me, lest I lose my sanity!*
Herald was not certain of the proper course. Would the telling do more harm than the withholding? Whorl did seem to be on the verge of nervous collapse, yet the truth.... It was a problem of ethics he had not encountered before. /I know not where expediency lies. Therefore I accept your release of guilt, and accede./
*Thank you! Thank you!*
/I fear the thanks is undeserved. Your Achievement is perfect in every respect but one: it possesses an abatement in Stainand. This is the handsome color of tenne, or brown./
*Yes, I have taken great pride in that hue, and pointed it out to important visitors.*
/Unfortunately, in heraldic terms this signifies a question of honor./
*I do not comprehend!*
/I fear it has reference to some scandal in the roots of your family, perhaps a claim to an improper honor. One that is technically legitimate, but morally suspect./
The Ast was stricken. *The King of Arms has damned me! I thought no one knew of that matter!*
If all Whorl's friends had sniggered, many must have known!
/It seems the King has a subtle way of advising you of his research and opinion./
*Shame! Shame! I am undone! Now everyone knows! My friends, my business associates to whom I described that very aspect of the Shield! My potential family-mates! Sapients all over the Galactic Cluster! I am a laughingstock everywhere, everywhere!*
Herald tried to alleviate the creature's concern. /On the contrary. Few know. Ordinary entities neither seek nor comprehend the significance of heraldic devices and conventions, do not know shield from crest. Had there been justification for any legal action against you, your Achievement would have been voided from the start. Obviously your family honors are valid. This merely... diminishes their impact. In fact, the very concept of hereditary abatements is suspect; I have never seen it done before in a recognized Achievement. I believe you could initiate a formal challenge on that basis, and perhaps have the abatement nullified./
*And bring my shame into Cluster Court for all the nonheraldic sapients to perceive too? I'll be damned if I do that!*
And Herald realized that the Ast was not indulging in vernacular; he meant quite literally that his cherished honor would suffer damnation. Pride of family was a thing quite apart from law.
/I will lodge a protest on your behalf,/ Herald offered.
*No, the damage is done. My only recourse lies beyond the auspices of heraldry.*
Yes, it was serious! Should he have refused to tell? What was Whorl going to do now, assassinate the King of Arms? What mischief this Achievement had wrought!
But Herald could not afford to interfere further; this was no longer his business.
/As you wish. I deeply regret bringing this news upon you./
The Ast recovered himself.
*I thank you, Herald. Please accept your fee; you have earned it. There will be no complaint. Parting.*
Further dialogue was pointless; the noble of Precipice had made up his mind. /Parting,/ Herald said, and writhed away toward the transporter. He did not feel at ease.
As he left the domicile, he thought he perceived a faint pulse in the rock, echo of a distant tactile exclamation: *The whole Cluster! Shame!* The anguish was horrible.
Even before Herald transferred out, the news of the suicide of Whorl of Precipice and the dissolution of his nascent family was pulsing through Sphere Ast. The reason for this act was a mystery, but Herald knew the truth. He shuddered with anger and remorse. He had tried to honor his profession and deliver honest service for his fee, but had been forced into being an accomplice for an execution. If he made any protest now, his share in it would be exposed, and he might well be liable before the Cluster Court. Therefore he had to maintain silence, for there was no way he could benefit Whorl at this stage.
The King of Arms of Sphere Ast had gotten away with murder. One day he would have to settle for that crime.
2
Child of Grief
& Research units drift by for assignment. &
X Drifting by. X
& Research Command make assignments. &
X Assignments as follows: one unit per local cultural division. Units lettered, cultures symbolized. X
Milky Way: B E" F Koo L Nσσ Qδ T:::
[email protected] Z¿
Andromeda: A* C% D— P:: S/
Pinwheel: R^ Uθ
Other: G$ J= M¢ V# Y§
& Action units drift by for assignments as invoiced. &
0 Drifting by. 0
& Take samples of life and verify for aura and sapience. &
Herald's next host was a creature of treads and powerful hammering chisels, adapted for life within the rock wedged between the frozen ammonia of the surface and the superheated lava of the depths. This creature moved by drilling the stone ahead, and ate by sifting nutrients from the crushings. It was a pleasant enough livelihood when the region being mined was good. This was a planet in Sphere Quadpoint, halfway across the Galaxy. Herald went where his business took him.
He explained his mission to his host, and was conveyed with surprising speed through the rock. The material pounded from the front was cast back to block the passage behind; it was bad form to leave an open tunnel. A predator could come up from an exposed rear, or the hole could interrupt the rhythm of another sapient entity. Of course, one of the planetary shifts would soon collapse everything and make way for a new cycle, but still, a self-sufficient creature cut and filled his own way. Soon he arrived at the territory of his client, Bore of Metamorphic.
Like most of Herald's clients this was a wealthy and powerful representative of his Sphere. It was not that Herald sought riches; rather, he could not afford to travel the universe for a pittance. He sought some way to serve the most needy, but at present it was necessary to serve the rich needy first. Once he had developed a retirement fund, he would do what he could to improve the lot of the downtrodden masses of Sphere Slash, struggling under what was ironically termed the "Curse of Llume."
Or was he, like so many he dealt with, merely a hypocrite? He thought he was storing up wealth in order to promote good, yet he had seen how easy it was to forget the latter part once the first had been accomplished. He hoped his life, in its entirety, would benefit his Sphere and his Cluster, but he could not be sure of that, yet.
Bore came right to the point, as was characteristic of his kind. ::My offspring will die. It is a malady of mineral insufficiency, incurable. For your fee you will enable her to knock out with grace, without pain. We are informed you have done this before, with other immature entities.::
/I have, and with mature entities, too. However, each case differs./
The Lady Bore was more evocative. ::It is said that you interviewed a dying little bird of Sphere Dash, and that before you came the chick was in such depression he would not flap at all, but that afterward he glowed and consoled his parents with all three wings and then died in simple peace and comfort. And when they asked him what the Healer had done all he said was—He touched me!—and so it was never explained, but they were satisfied more than they could convey.::
/True,/ Herald agreed.
::If you do not do this for ours, we shall revoke your exorbitant fee,:: Bore said gruffly. ::I permit your intrusion in this hour of our bereavement only at the muddlebrained behest of the Lady. We have no use for your kind here.::
::Bore!:: the Lady protested. ::We have no prejudice against the Slash, even if they did betray the Galaxy. We are enlightened sapients.::
Prejudice? No, not much! thought Herald. The Curse of Llume marked his kind indelibly, as it had for a thousand years.
/You are assured of her condition?/
::Assured, Healer. Do your job.::
So blunt about the incipient demise of his young! But Herald knew better than to react to the seeming inadequacies of his client's manner; his profession required understanding and tolerance. He knew that often a gruff manner masked a tender sentiment. Creatures accustomed to smashing through hard rock all their lives might be forgiven their hard-hitting personalities.
/Convey me to Smallbore./ All Quadpoint immature used the diminutive of their parents' titles. /And then leave us alone, please./
Both adult Quadpoints seemed a bit taken aback at the expletive "please," but honored the request. The child rested in her small cave, too weak to carve her own tunnels anymore.
/Hello, Smallbore,/ Herald said. The child did not respond. /I have come to bring you peace./
::Then you are Death or the Devil,:: she said, evoking an image from his host-memory. Death was simple oblivion, but the Devil was a lithic monster who gleefully collapsed crushing layers of rock on trapped entities, or opened cracks to let ammonia snow pour in on the innocent. Smallbore sounded much like her father.
/Perhaps. Will you play a game with me?/
::I don't feel like playing 'Spaceship,' and if I did I wouldn't play it with a Slash!::
Herald produced a stack of thin stone panels. He had specified that his Quadpoint host carry these in his reserve hopper. /A game of guesses, Smallbore./
Despite herself, the child evinced interest. ::Guesses?::
/I shall lay down a card, and you shall guess its meaning. If you succeed, you keep the card./
::What the crush do I want with a crushing card? I am dying!::
Herald ignored the cursing. He moved close, and the potent fringe of his aura touched her. /To die is unfortunate, Smallbore. To die without meaning is tragedy./
She made a sandy sigh. ::Oh, lay down your card!::
He shook the deck in his front tongs, shuffling it, and flipped out a random card. The mica-thin leaf landed face up on the floor between them.
Smallbore considered it. ::A picture of three entities rising from a deep pit, beneath a representation of Galaxy Andromeda,:: she said. ::Oh, I know what that means! It is the Andromedan Council of Spheres summoning the Slash for judgment. See, the creatures don't want to come!:: There was a certain malice in her tone.
But Herald accepted the slur against his Sphere without rancor, having had a great deal of practice in this sort of thing. These cards had pictures, true, but the pictures served to evoke suppressed reactions, to dredge up interpretations that reflected the most fundamental concerns of those who considered them. The animus against Sphere Slash was very strong in Sphere Quadpoint, which was natural. The Bores of Metamorphic had performed an act bordering on ignominy when they summoned a Slash to heal their child.
/You have guessed it, Smallbore. The card is yours. But do you know why the Slash are so poorly regarded?/
::They committed a crime against our Galaxy. They betrayed us to the enemy.::
/Yes. That crime is known as the Curse of Llume. May I tell you our side of it?/
::Slash has a side?:: she asked incredulously.
/Strange as it may seem, it does./
::Oh, all right,:: she said, pleased at her success in winning the card she didn't want ::We Quadpoints are enlightened sapients, after all.::
Uh-huh. /In the time of the Second Energy War, a thousand years ago, there was an agent from Sphere Slash who, on the verge of success in her mission, renounced it and defected to the enemy galaxy, Milky Way, thereby enabling Melody of Mintaka to reverse the course of the war. The situation was very nearly saved by the fine general Hammer of Quadpoint.
::Hammer!:: she cried, recognizing the hero instantly. ::Admiral Hammer!::
/This Slash agent was called 'Llume' because that was the local identifier of the Milky Way host she first took in Transfer. It was a Spican Undulant of Segment Etamin. Llume became enamored of Melody of Mintaka, whose aura was very like hers but almost as strong as mine. Thus she was the arch-traitor of Sphere Slash, just as another female Slash, whose name history has refused even to record, had been in the First War of Energy a thousand years before that. The Sphere did not endorse the treachery of either female, but it nevertheless suffered the stigma of it, and the idea developed that the sapients of S
lash were somehow traitorous by nature. Ever since, we have labored under that onus. The irony was, both females thought they were doing right, granting parity to the Milky Way so that it would not be destroyed. Llume prayed to the God of Hosts that Sphere Slash might one year redeem itself in honor./
::Didn't Andromeda seek to destroy the whole Milky Way?:: Smallbore seemed unaware that the thrust of her question had changed.
/Andromeda merely sought to harvest the energy of the enemy galaxy for better purposes. That energy was needed to promote the level of civilization itself./
::At the price of sapiencide? I do not see that Llume was such a criminal, or that the Sphere she represents is necessarily cursed. She sought a blessing!::
/Thank you, Smallbore./
Startled, she sputtered sand for a moment ::You—I—you are from Sphere Slash?::
/Yes./
::Is your aura like Llume's?::
/Perceptive of you to guess that! Perhaps I shall have to give you my aura, like the card! Yes, it is like Llume's, and like Melody of Mintaka's, and perhaps like Flint of Outworld's too, at least in intensity./
::Then you must be the one to abate the Kirlian Curse!::
/All things are possible, if unlikely. Would you like to trade places with me?/
::Never!::
Herald reshuffled the deck, preparing to flip out another card. The first had done very well. But Smallbore stopped him.
::What is this set of pictures that you use?::
He hadn't intended to go into that yet, but decided to answer honestly.
/It is called the Cluster Tarot. The roots of it date back some three thousand Sol years (as you know, we use this alien measurement of time because the conquerors imposed it on our whole galaxy, along with much of the rest of their dubious system of measurements) to educational pictures made by an obscure cult. Sibling Paul of Sol revised the deck and popularized it among Galactic species. The cards have changed many times in form and meaning, but have persisted to this day, owing largely to the continuing influence of the Temples of Tarot, which in certain periods have been very pervasive. Normally a Tarot cube is used, showing images on each of six faces, but individual cards have been used as emblems for many cultures. Spaceships are still designed along these lines, falling into five broad types after the five suits, resembling Wands, Cups, Swords, Disks, and Atoms. The Milky Way Society of Hosts used the card of Temperance, an entity transferring fluid from one vessel to another—/