Earthly Crown

  “What have you done for me today?” Nadine asked him, falling into step beside him. She spoke Rhuian precisely and without a trace of accent, as if she had learned the language through Tess’s matrix and not by the laborious process of one word at a time. Even her uncle spoke with an accent, although his command of the language was equally impressive.

  “A lintel,” he replied, “from the southwest transept.” He withdrew a rolled-up square of parchment from his belt-pouch and halted to smooth it open on the modeler.

  Nadine studied it, frowning. “This pattern, here…isn’t that repeated, but backward, on the northeast transept? And reversed, too.” She stared as if she could puzzle out some vital information from the drawing. “You have a fine hand,” she added.

  “No doubt,” said Maggie, with a smirk. David cast her a glare.

  Nadine stepped back. Her lips quirked up, but she did not smile. “I want to add to my uncle’s maps on the way back. We’ll probably he riding far into Habakar territory, and eventually, riding south, the land route must come to Jeds. Someday I’d like to map both routes to Jeds, by ship and by horse.”

  “Would you, indeed?” said Maggie under her breath in Anglais. “No doubt your uncle would as well.”

  “If you will,” said the old priestess, who had waited patiently through this exchange. “The prince and the other priests are waiting only for your presence to begin the meal.”

  “Of course.” David rolled up the parchment and stuck it back into his pouch. They had to match their stride to the priestess’s limping walk, so it took some time to wend their way through the maze of the palace and into the back rooms where the jaran priests lived. “How long have the jaran sent priests here?” he asked Nadine as she sat down next to him on a bench in the dining hall.

  “Since we found it here. Surely you can see that the gods have touched this place, so we honor it.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  She shrugged. “Perhaps Mother Avdotya knows. Perhaps my uncle guesses. A long time ago, in any case. But my uncle says that these zayinu from over the sea built this shrine, the zayinu called khepelli. Do you think this as well?”

  “Yes, I do. But surely you know that, if you’ve spoken with Tess.”

  “There are many things Tess does not speak of,” said Nadine cryptically. “And many things she speaks of without saying much. I will come to your bed tonight, if you wish it.”

  David felt heat burn in his cheeks and hoped that Nadine was still unfamiliar enough with his coloring that she could not tell he was blushing. “Yes.” He managed to force out the syllable through a suddenly choked throat. Although the word was barely audible, Nadine smiled and returned her attention to her food.

  Later, as they finished eating, Charles signaled to his crew, and they left together to go meet in the tiny room allotted to him. He sat on the edge of the narrow bed. Rajiv sat in the one chair, a hemi-slate resting on his knees, and Maggie on the edge of the wooden table. Jo sank down onto the floor with catlike grace. David remained standing with his back to the door.

  Charles regarded them one by one. “What progress today?”

  “I’ve got a tentative date on a ceramic sample,” said Jo. “Ten thousand years, minimum. It’s got to be that old. Ten to fifteen, by my best estimate. I incline to the later date.”

  “Does that surprise any of you?” Charles asked. He, of course, did not look surprised, but then Charles had become as adept at maintaining a blank expression as his Chapalii counterparts in the high nobility.

  “Yes,” said Maggie emphatically. “A thousand years, perhaps. But look at this place. Not here, but the rest of it. How could it have survived in such good condition? What does humanity have left from fifteen thousand years ago? That’s Paleolithic times. Some obsidian blades and a few cave paintings?”

  “Margaret,” said Rajiv primly from his chair, “what you are not doing is thinking clearly. I cannot believe we know a thousandth part of the extent and sophistication of Chapalii technology. I will present you with an analogy. Take one of these jaran. Take a curious, intelligent one, such as the woman Nadine Orzhekov. What she knows and imagines of our life and technology is likely closer to the truth than what we know and imagine of Chapalii technology.”

  “Furthermore,” said David, shaking a finger in front of his own lips, “it’s the only reasonable window of opportunity for the human migration that was needed to populate this planet. If the Tai-en Mushai moved an entire Homo sapiens population here to work as his—slaves? for his amusement? for who the hell knows what reason?—then that time frame would be reasonable. Hasn’t Tess found some correspondence between Rhuian languages and Earth languages?”

  “I don’t know why the Mushai brought humans here,” said Charles quietly, “but I do know from the evidence in that cylinder that he was using this as a base to foment rebellion against the emperor. If that was fifteen thousand years ago…have things really changed that much in the Empire? Have they changed so little?”

  Rajiv tapped his fingers lightly on the hard surface of his slate. “We will not know how much additional information was hidden within the interstices of that cylinder unless we can install it on the original equipment it came from, the equipment here. The Keinaba house consoles could only access the top layer of information, and there was clearly more coded in underneath.”

  “So.” Charles said the word and then said nothing for a long moment. Through the small window set high up in the wall, David saw stars and the thick leafy crowns of trees. “This we know. I think we have no choice but to call down an expert from Keinaba house.”

  “Call down a Chapalii?” Maggie asked. “On planet? That would be breaking your own interdiction.”

  Charles snorted. “I’m already breaking my own interdiction. And they’ve seen Chapalii here before. Any other objections?”

  Rajiv bent his head. “You know my feelings.”

  “What are your feelings?” Maggie demanded.

  Rajiv glanced up at her, his dark eyes glinting. “I suggested it. There is one technician I have worked with. She is one of these ke, one of the nameless ones of their lowest caste, but she is an artist with this machinery. I cannot forgive a society that condemns such intelligence and promise to that kind of subjugation for no better reason than that her parents were born of parents who were born of parents…and so on.” His eyes flashed with anger. His dark brows were drawn down, and a pulse beat in his jaw.

  “A Chapalii female!” Maggie exclaimed. “I’ve never met a Chapalii female. I thought they were all in purdah or something. Restricted. Secluded.”

  “It is true,” said Charles slowly, “that they are rarely together with Chapalii males. Beyond that, I have formed no sense of what their status is. But the Tai-en Naroshi offered me the services of his sister to design a mausoleum for Tess.”

  “How morbid. At least you didn’t take him up on it.”

  “But I did.” Charles smiled, not with amusement precisely but at some ironic joke. “They work at a slower pace than we do, though. Cara believes they’re quite long-lived.” He brushed his hands together briskly and stood up with decision. “Then if there is no more discussion, I’ll send for a deputation from Keinaba.”

  “But Charles,” said David, “can you trust them? Surely asking them to uncover this information—the Tai-en Mushai is almost a Lucifer kind of figure in their history, as far as I can tell. Or at least, that’s how Tess described him to me once. Will the Keinaba family agree to help you uncover his past? To start in motion what may prove to be another rebellion against their own emperor?”

  “I think that they’ll do anything I tell them to do. This is one way to test that.”

  David just shook his head. “You’re damned cool.”

  “Don’t forget that I saved their house from extinction by my intervention. They owe me everything. They are bound to me like—” He shrugged. “Well, aren’t there any historians here who can provide me with a good analogy?”
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  David had known Charles for forty-five years now. He and Charles and the other Charles—who was now Marco—had gone to university together. David’s path had parted for a time from that of Charles after university, but in the end he had come back to him, to the cause, to the rebellion, to the endless struggle for freedom. David felt more and more that he knew Charles less well the longer they were together. As if the closer David got, the more Charles receded, or at least that the force repelling David grew stronger the longer he was exposed to it. Not that Charles was in any way cold to him, that he didn’t trust him, listen to him, even joke with him now and again in the way he used to when they were young, but that Charles himself was retreating far down into the depths of the Tai-en, the duke, the only human who had any true power within the Chapalii hierarchy. David loved Charles. He respected the duke, but he wasn't sure that he liked him much.

  “Where is Marco, anyway?” he asked, thinking of old times. “I haven’t seen him all day.”

  “Out scouting for a landing site, in the event we were forced to this decision. But I expect him—”

  Someone came running down the hall. A moment later the door burst open and Marco plunged into the room, pulling up short. “Just got a frantic message in from Tess. Christ in Heaven. She and Cara—” He swore fluidly and imaginatively in Ophiuchi-Sei. “She talked Cara into slipping Bakhtiian some damned serum or other to try for a temporary halt to his aging.”

  “What!” That was Jo. “But the physiological discrepancies could be lethal!”

  “Exactly. That’s what the message was about. Here, I’ll play it back for you.” He unhooked his slate from his belt and laid it on the table. With a pass of his hand over the shining surface, and a single spoken word, an image appeared above the slate, Tess’s image. Her message was garbled and almost incoherent, but one fact came through clearly: Bakhtiian had slipped into a coma and Cara didn’t know the likelihood of his ever coming out of it.

  “Goddess above,” swore Maggie. “Talk about breaking the interdiction.”

  “Well?” asked Marco after Tess’s image froze and he keyed it to vanish.

  “Did you find a good landing site?” Charles asked.

  There was silence, while everyone else sorted out the sudden change of subject.

  Marco blinked. He ran his left hand back through the thick shock of his hair. “Yes, in fact, I did. But what about—?”

  “If Cara is there, then there is nothing further I can do. Now. I’ll need a scrambled message, Rajiv, to be sent to Odys through Jeds and thence on to Keinaba. I want them to arrive as soon as possible. Marco, when is the new moon? I think we’ll have the best chance of getting them in unseen then.”

  “But Charles—” David burst out. “What about Nadine? Surely she deserves to know. We don’t even know what kind of rules for succession they have. Won’t she want to ride back?”

  Rajiv had already opened up a branching pathway over his slate, encoding a signal and encryption into it. Marco had a strange, almost disturbing expression on his face as he watched Charles.

  “David,” said Charles, “I would dearly love to tell Nadine Orzhekov about her uncle’s illness. How am I to explain how we got the news so quickly?”

  “You’re right,” muttered David.

  “It would be damned convenient for you if he died,” added Marco in a low voice.

  “It might be,” said Charles. “In fact, it would be, and it’s damned inconvenient for me that I find myself standing here hoping that he doesn’t die. Because I rather like him.”

  “The Tempest,” said Maggie suddenly. “That’s the right analogy. Doesn’t the magician Prospero save everyone’s life? Aren’t they all bound to him, the humans and spirits both?”

  “What are you talking about?” David demanded.

  Charles laughed. “Doesn’t he play with all their lives? Thank you, Maggie. I’ll take that as a vote of confidence. I think. Jo, let’s go down to your room and you can show me how you reached your dating results.”

  They dispersed. Maggie following Charles and Jo out the door. Rajiv did not move, but he was well sunk into a working trance, manipulating his pathways in a shimmering three dimensions in the air above his slate. David sighed and moved to follow the others. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked Marco.

  “Which makes me Caliban,” said Marco under his breath. “And of course she plays Miranda.”

  “What?”

  Marco started. He shook his head. “Nothing. Never mind. Yes, let’s go see Jo’s results. So, David my boy, I hear you’re the spitfire’s new favorite.”

  David chuckled, since this was old, familiar banter. “You should talk. Wasn’t her cousin—the blonde one—courting you the entire time we were at camp?” In charity with each other, they left Rajiv to his task, light glittering and spinning in the tiny room like the web of a sorcerer’s working.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  TESS KEPT VIGIL.

  All that day, although in the afternoon Sonia made her walk outside. “You must keep up your strength, Tess,” Sonia scolded. “It does a woman no good to weaken herself when she’s pregnant.”

  Cara brought up one of her wagons in the late afternoon. That night she and Ursula, with Aleksi aiding them, set up a bed which would monitor Ilya’s condition continuously. With some clever drapery of fabric, the doctor arranged an intravenous system to keep him in fluids; then she set up her cot out in the outer chamber of their great tent. The wind shook the tent walls incessantly, so that the noise became like a lullaby, monotonous and soothing. Tess slept, a little.

  In the morning Sonia charged Aleksi with taking Tess for walks, one in the morning, one in the afternoon. Cara made some excuse about the bed, but since Sonia had been in Jeds, she accepted the excuses and was dissuaded from investigating too closely. In any case, she had the rest of the extended family to provide for, and the Orzhekov tribe to administer, and Tess to worry about.

  Tess sat by the bedside, not stirring unless someone approached her directly. Katerina drew aside different flaps within the tent to let the wind through, to cool it down, but the air remained stuffy. In the afternoon, Aleksi came.

  “Come.” He took her hand and drew her to her feet. Ilya lay still and silent on the bed. “The doctor will watch. You must come outside and walk.”

  She went, because it was easier than protesting and because he was right. Outside was an armed camp. The gold banner whipped in the wind atop the tent. Vladimir and Konstans stood on either side of the awning, white-faced, like statues. Two rings of guards circled the Orzhekov camp, the great tent at the center. A stone’s throw out, a line of unmounted men paced; farther, horsemen rode a tight circle. Sonia held court under the awning of her tent, and supplicants came forward one by one to address her. Beyond, the stark outline of the ridgetop shimmered against the blue sky. It was hot, and the wind was hot, and the sun beat down on the height like a hammer.

  The light and the weight of her anguish bewildered Tess. “What’s going on?”

  “The rumors are spreading,” said Aleksi. “Sonia is letting etsanas and dyans in one by one to assure them that all is well.”

  “Which it isn’t.”

  “Tess.”

  “I’m sorry.” She felt dizzy. She rested a hand on his arm.

  “We’ll walk,” he said sternly. They made a circuit of the inner ring of guards, composed mostly of men from the Orzhekov tribe itself, who were also part of Ilya’s own thousand. What was wrong? they asked her. Was he ill of a fever? Was it true that a Habakar priest had witched his spirit out of his body, and that they were even now battling in the gods’ lands for control of the Habakar kingdom? Tess found meaningless words to reassure them, but mostly Aleksi talked. They walked one circuit around, and then a second. The second was easier, because the guards let her walk in peace.

  “A third time,” said Aleksi, “and then you must eat. Tess.” He hesitated. She plodded on. She felt heavy and full, and her breasts were beginning to
swell. She had a horrible irrational fear that she was going to get the child in exchange for Ilya, and she realized that she wanted Ilya more.

  “If I could take back what I did—” she said, and an instant later realized that she had said it aloud.

  “What did you do?” Aleksi asked.

  “Dr. Hierakis is eighty-two years old.”

  He caught up to her and, with a touch on her elbow, stopped her. Then he looked once to each side, as if he thought the wind itself might be listening. “You mean that.”

  “It’s true.”

  “But she looks no older than—Ilya. Perhaps a little older, because she carries herself like an Elder. How old is your brother, Tess?”

  “He’s seventy-seven. Fifty years older than me.”

  “How can you have the same parents?”

  “Because we live longer.”

  “Are you zayinu? They say the old ones lived long lives and never aged. But they fled across the seas and under the hills long before the jaran came to these lands.”

  “No. Well, yes, in a way, but only because of our machines. We are like you, Aleksi. We’re the same, it’s just that our machines allow us to live longer and travel farther.” She sighed. “You don’t believe me, do you?”