Bradley, Marion Zimmer - Novel 19 (25 page)

 
          
This
is no planet for colonization, Cendri thought. The Scholar Dame di Velo had
been right. This planet should have been turned over to a scientific
foundation, for study of the Builder ruins—if they
are
Builder ruins—and
never turned over to a colony at all. It's never going to be a viable
settlement.

 
          
She
doubted very much if they could even manage to hold out long enough to get the
tsunami-prediction equipment which, Miranda had thought, would make such a
difference to their world and their people.

 
          
She
said something of this to Dal, low-voiced. He said, "If they really were
Builder ruins—well, that might make a difference. We have nothing else which
can be authenticated as being directly of Builder origin. If they had been
Builder ruins, I am sure the Unity would have offered to resettle the Isis
Colony elsewhere, at its own expense, on a planet more suitable to their
agriculture and their way of life, in exchange for unlimited opportunity to
study the Builder artifacts—"

 
          
"Do
you really think they would accept such an offer from the Unity after what
happened on Labrys? They have reason to distrust the Unity—" Abruptly she
heard, as if by delayed action, something else he had said.

 
          
"You
say
if they had been
BuiJder ruins...Dal, do you know that they're not?
And if they're not, what are they? Do you know?"

 
          
"No,
to both questions," Dal said, "but whatever they are— Cendri, don't
be naive! They are too new to be Builder ruins! Unless—" and he wet his
lips, hesitating. "I hardly dare to believe— to hope—"

 
          
"Dal,
what is it?"

 
          
"Only
one thing could have preserved them like that," he said, "It is only
a theoretical
construct,
no known civilization was
able to use it—"

 
          
"What,
Dal? What are you talking about?"

 
          
"Time
stasis," he said.

 
          
"Time—"
she broke off. "Oh, Dal!" she said, chiding, "I thought it had
been conclusively proved that was impossible by all the laws of physics—"

 
          
"Impossible
by the known laws," he said, "but they used to say that about
trans-light speeds and antigravity and antimatter black holes—"

 
          
She
said, "Goodness, Dal, isn't it enough to challenge all the accepted
scientific theories about the Builders? You've seen what that did to the Dame
di Velo! If you're going to start talking about wild theories like Time
stasis—"

 
          
"No,
no, no," he interrupted, almost pleading, and she thought, I never
realized
how
much this meant
to him!
"Don't you see what it might mean,
Cendri? It would mean that the Builders left all their records and artifacts
for us, when we could get around to a technology that would understand them!
We'd have to break into it, but they've left a key for us, we just have to
learn to use it! All the Builder technology—
think
of
it, Cendri! But it will mean none of our force-field breakers will be any good,
no laser ever made will cut inside—we'd need theoretical physicists of the
highest order here, but if we get in, the whole Builder culture is waiting
there for us! Think of it, Cendri!" He was pale and sweating with
excitement.

 
          
She
felt almost angry. Wasn't it enough, she wondered, that she was prepared to
tolerate his attachment to
one
crackpot theory, the existence of the
hypothetical Builders who had seeded the Galaxy with intelligent life, without
being required to be patient and tolerant with another one? Time stasis indeed!

 
          
Although,
come to think of it, it might possibly explain why the ruins were so very
well-preserved!

 
          
But
it was getting dark, and all of Vaniya's people were standing there, waiting.
She said, "Do we need to do anything more today, Dal?"

 
          
"No,
you can send all the people who are just fetching and carrying, back
home," he said, "but I think we'll need Laurina to arrange about
tomorrow."

 
          
Cendri
dismissed Vaniya's people. Rhu, though reluctantly, begged leave to go with
them; Vaniya, he said, might require his presence when she returned from the
city. Dal, Cendri and Laurina sat on the steps in the courtyard with the dry,
forgotten fountains where she had seen Rhu and Miranda—was it only yesterday?

 
          
"We
have hardly made a beginning," Dal said, "though we have graphics of
all the exteriors, I think. Tomorrow—I think we need a plan and a
schedule." He pulled out writing instruments and a storage-note copier.
"Let me see; tomorrow I want to take soil scrapings, and try to get access
to a computer to analyze them. I have to bring up a laser, and see if we can
cut into one of the smaller buildings. Maybe X-ray equipment first, to see if
we can get a line on what's inside; we don't want to risk damaging the contents
of any building. I want to try and adapt the force-breakers, too, to work with
a couple of little-known frequencies; we tested only the most common ones
today. That will take two days. Meanwhile we will have to send to University
for everything known of the other suspected Builder ruins, though I have copies
of the Dame di Velo's notes, and I'll have to recheck them. Or can I put you on
that, Cendri? You, Laurina," he added, "You are a historian?"

 
          
She
whispered, in shock, "Yes—"

 
          
"I
want you to take tomorrow off and check your—do you keep your information in
libraries or computer terminals or what? I want to know everything that's
happened at this site since the
Isis
colony
landed here, and everything you were told about the place
before
you
landed here. Is that fairly clear to you?"

 
          
She
nodded, and Dal went on, rapidly outlining a clear, comprehensive schedule for
studying the ruins, bit by bit,
before
actually getting inside any given
structure. Cendri, who knew that the sound of his voice would activate her
voice-scriber, listened, admiring the brilliance and clarity with which Dal,
after only a single day of observation, could mount a comprehensive plan of
attack against the secrets of the ruins of We-were-guided.

 
          
He
finished winding up the plan, and stretched, yawning. "We'd better get
back, then. Supper is going to look awfully good, now we've actually gotten
something done," he said, "Ready, Cendri?"

 
          
She
nodded, and they got to their feet. But as Laurina got up, she reeled against
Cendri, and Cendri saw that the red-headed woman had gone pale, her freckles
standing out like blotches in the lowering sunset.

 
          
"Laurina,
what's wrong? Have we tired you too much, this first day?"

 
          
"It
isn't that," she said faintly, looking after Dal as he started down the
hill. "Cendri—Cendri, I am—I am frightened. I had never believed that a
male could—could make a clear and comprehensive plan like this, full of logic
and good sense.
An adult, functioning male."

 
          
Cendri
said with a sigh of weary patience, "I told you, my—my Companion is a
Master Scholar on University."

 
          
"I
can understand—on worlds where males make the rules, their kind of scholarship
is accepted as best, it must be," she said, shaking, "but this—this
is
real.
It is, perhaps, a little too linear, a little too left-brained,
but it is real scholarship, real intelligence. It frightens me, Cendri, because
I could not have done as well myself. And if a male—an adult male, subject to
the compulsive sex drives which keep them from learning—can do this well, then
where is the virtue or benefit in being a woman? I'm frightened, Cendri. Do you
really want to destroy all the scholars on
Isis
this way, letting them know that
a man can
so easily equal or almost surpass their best
accomplishments?"

 
          
"I
do not see how any scholar worth the name could be destroyed by having her
assumptions challenged," Cendri said, but then she did understand.
Laurina's whole way of life was based on the assumption that women were a
superior kind of being, that no man could possibly be capable of her kind of
rational thought.

 
          
Dal
had said something like this about Pioneer; that when it was brought home to
them that there were women actually as strong and capable as men, some of the
men of Pioneer felt their masculinity challenged. Was this the kind of culture
shock Laurina was facing?

 
          
Cendri
could see that Laurina's self-confidence, her very self-concept, had been
shaken to the roots.
Could she survive that, undamaged?
Could the culture of
Isis
survive being told such things?

 
          
Was
a way of life, good in itself and workable, expendable just in order to make a
point the Unity wanted made?

 
          
She
put her arm around Laurina, feeling the young woman lean on her. Protectively,
she started down the hill, saying, "Laurina, it's not that serious—"
but she knew Laurina could not take it in, not yet. Laurina's open hero-worship
gave her, Cendri, a responsibility. How could she let Laurina be damaged this
way? She wondered if Laurina would be there tomorrow to work with them—or if
she, Cendri, shouldn't dismiss the girl for her own
good
.
But wouldn't that be true of any worker they got from
Isis
? Sooner or later they would have to know
the truth.

 
          
Had
they really
been sent
here by the Unity to
destroy
the
culture
of
Isis
?

 
          
Was
a culture which Jived by a
lie really worth
preserving, then?

 
          
The
  first
  law  by which an 
anthropologist lived was—do nothing to damage
the culture you
are sent
to
study.

 
          
But
if they live by laws which cannot survive against other cultures—what then? The
history of culture was full of cultures which had been destroyed—vandalized—by
forcing them into contact with irreconcilables. The history of the Galaxy was
the worse for that destruction. Distressed beyond words at what she seemed to
have done without meaning any harm, she said nothing except, "I think you
are over-tired, Laurina. Maybe it will all look better to you tomorrow."

 
          
She
had not been sent here to show the Matriarchate of Isis the error of their
ways! They had a right to their own truths and their own culture! It was not up
to her to destroy it!

 
          
She
would speak to Dal, and warn him about what he had done. Meanwhile—she
stumbled, realizing that she herself was wearied almost to exhaustion. There
was no way she could make rational judgments about comparative truths and
ethics now. She said, "I'm tired, aren't you, Laurina? I'll be awfully glad
to get into a hot bath and some fresh clothes, and have one of Vaniya's good
dinners."

 
          
But
they did not go to the ruins at We-were-guided the next day.

 
          
Dal
was in high spirits that night as they washed off the grime and dust of the
ruins. He sang, and teased Cendri good-naturedly about her "admirer."
And at Vaniya's table that night he spent some time, of his own free will,
talking with Rhu—which, Cendri thought, would ease somewhat the friction of
having it known that her Companion did not like Vaniya's. Later, before they
slept, he said thoughtfully, "I think I may start teaching Rhu to operate
some of our equipment. Maybe all the kid needs is self-confidence. He's not so
dumb, he's just been taught never to open his mouth, that's all." And
Cendri was greatly relieved.

 
          
But
the next morning, as they were making their preparations for the day, and
Vaniya was receiving petitioners, a messenger entered the hall
who
made Vaniya frown and Miranda look deeply troubled. But
Vaniya, as always, was calm.

 
          
"Well,
Clarita, I know you for my worthy colleague Mahala's messenger; how can I serve
you?"

 
          
"Respect,
Pro-Matriarch, my message is not for you, but for the honored guest of the
Matriarchate," said the woman. "I bring a message and an invitation
for the Scholar Dame from University."

 
          
Vaniya
frowned and said, with obvious reluctance, "The Scholar Dame has begun her
work and is engaged."

 
          
The
woman Clarita said smoothly, "Is this the message I am to bear to the
Pro-Matriarch Mahala, then, that you would not allow me to deliver the message
to the honored guest of the Matriarchate?"

 
          
Vaniya
chewed her lip and said, with ill grace, "No, of course not. Cendri—"
she turned toward them, "the Pro-Matriarch Mahala, my colleague, has sent
you a messenger."

 
          
Clarita
turned toward Cendri and made the Unity's formal gesture, hands clasped before
the face. Cendri had grown so accustomed to the informality of the Matriarchate
and Vaniya's household that it startled her, seemed completely inappropriate.
Clarita said, "The worthy Pro-Matriarch Mahala regrets that she has seen
nothing of the Scholar Dame from University, while her colleague Vaniya has had
the privilege of entertaining the honored guest and showing her the hospitality
of her household. It is now the pleasure and the privilege of the Pro-Matriarch
Mahala to state that she has arranged a formal entertainment for the Scholar
Dame this afternoon, and to invite her and her Companion to attend as guests.
We have arranged an athletic competition in her honour, and her Companion is
respectfully invited and urged to compete in any event of its particular
interest and skill."

 
          
Cendri
blinked.
An—
an athletic competition? And Dal invited
to compete? She looked uncertainly at Vaniya. Dal was wearing his
Get-me-out-of-this!
look
. Cendri felt completely at a
loss. She said in an undertone to Miranda, who was—as usual—sitting close
beside her, a mark of honor, "Now that our work has begun, I hate to break
it off like this. Is there any way I can refuse without making trouble?"

 
          
Miranda
shook her head. She said, in a troubled voice, "No, I'm afraid not. This
is the highest mark of honor that can be given to an individual, to arrange
such an entertainment for her particular, special benefit. In a sense it is an
attempt to reproach my mother that she has not done so—as if my mother had been
neglectful, not paying enough honor to our honored guests. To refuse would
indicate that you have allied yourself entirely with my mother's political
adherents. I don't understand politics, but I know that this is something you
cannot do, coming from the Unity."

 
          
This
was the second time that Miranda had specifically disclaimed any knowledge of
politics, but Cendri thought that she had nevertheless a very good grasp of
them. She liked Vaniya; the Pro-Matriarch had showed her kindness, it seemed,
far beyond ordinary courtesy to an official guest.
So had
Miranda.
And yet the official policy of the Unity absolutely forbade
aligning herself with any specific political faction. She raised her eyes to
Mahala's messenger and said with resignation, "Tell the Pro-Matriarch
Mahala that we shall be honored."

 
          
Dal
looked glum; but he had heard Miranda's words, and was resigned to the loss of
a day. The messenger Clarita said, "I shall bring word of your acceptance
to the Mother Mahala. She bade me say further that you are requested most
cordially to lunch with the Pro-Matriarch in private before the Games—"

 
          
Damnation,
thought Cendri. She knew Dal was counting on at least a half day to consider
and consolidate the previous day's work. She was tempted to plead the press of
work; but Clarita added, pointedly, "Thus you will confer upon the Pro-Matriarch
Mahala an honor which has already been given to the Mother Vaniya," and
Cendri resignedly told the Messenger that it would be a pleasure.

 
          
"Would
your Companion care to compete in any of the events? Does it swim, box, wrestle
or race? Some excellent prizes have been offered by the Council of Elders, and
it is welcome to compete for any or all of them."

 
          
Nonplussed,
Cendri glanced at Dal, who was frowning in amazement. She floundered for a
sufficiently diplomatic answer. "My Companion is not sufficiently familiar
with the rules of contests of such sort on this world, and requests politely
that it may be excused."

 
          
Clarita
bowed. She said, "The Pro-Matriarch will await you at the
noon
hour, then, and you will be her guests in
the Official Box." She added to Vaniya, "The Pro-Matriarch Mahala
cordially requests that you, Mother, your Companion, and such of your daughters
as wish to see the entertainment shall be invited to join them in the Official
Box as well."

 
          
Vaniya
said, "Tell my colleague I am obliged to her and I shall be present if my
duties allow." When Clarita had gone she sat frowning, letting her food
get cold, not speaking. Finally she said to Cendri, "I suppose this, or
something like it, was inevitable. My colleague has been jealous of me since we
were little girls on the mother-world of Persephone. I had thought—actually, I
had hoped—that when she prevented the students from the college from coming to
assist you,
Cendri, that
she had simply decided to
wash her hands of the entire project, and take her chances that the High
Matriarch will recover long enough to name
her
as successor." She
frowned. "I must go at once to inquire about our Mother, see if Rezali's
condition has changed. This new maneuver by Mahala means that she is not quite
as secure as she might be. She wants to make certain that she will have some
connection with the Scholar from University—" Cendri realized that by now,
Vaniya was simply thinking aloud. With an effort, the older woman smiled at her
guest. She said, "In any case, my dear, you and your Companion are certain
to enjoy the games."

 
          
She
excused herself, and Cendri, resigned to the loss of a day, consulted Miranda
about the proper dress for such an event, and went to make ready.

 
          
To
her surprise, Dal was less irritable than she had feared. "We can't spend
all our time working," he said, "and I know you wanted to see
something of what the men do here. It will take us a day or two to evaluate
yesterday's data, anyhow."

 
          
Cendri
nodded, deliberately trying to look on the bright side. This might even remove
some obstacles from her way; she remembered the message Laurina had relayed;
until she had seen and spoken with the
Scholar
Dame, Mahala was
unwilling to trust to the scholarship of a male-centered world. This might
serve to reassure the other Pro-Matriarch that Cendri was not a threat to the
Matriarchate. While she robed herself in the light cool robe which Miranda had
suggested for such an event, she had to dismiss a recurrent thought that she
was being disloyal to Vaniya.

 
          
Fiercely
she berated herself. She was an anthropologist, a scientist of University. She
wasn't supposed to form any alliances here that would jeopardize that; allying
herself with any faction whatsoever would obviously be unethical. Theoretically
she should have the same kind of regard for the unknown Mahala as for Vaniya,
for Miranda.

 
          
Restlessly
she went to the window and looked down at the distant ruins of We-were-guided,
lying bland and unrevealing in the sun.

 
          
It
is a bond
between us. We
have stood
together before their shrine,
felt—felt something.
It was real, it
wasn't an illusion.

 
          
And
yet I am not
supposed
to
form such bonds....

 
          
"Athletic
competition," said Dal, coming up behind her. "Why, of all things, an
athletic competition? You're supposed to be the anthropologist, Cendri, why
should their entertainment take that form?"

 
          
"I
don't know, Dal."

 
          
"I
could understand it, if it were the women of the society
competing—demonstrating their strength and aggression. But why do they have men
competing?"

 
          
Cendri
could only hazard a guess. "Possibly it's the one form of aggression they
permit men in this society, a socially allowable form of outlet? I'll have to
see it first, Dal, I can't make guesses."

 
          
Since
none of the cars would hold all of the Pro-Matriarch's party, Vaniya elected to
go in one vehicle with Miranda, leaving Dal and Cendri, with Rhu to escort
them, in the other.

 
          
They
had not been in the city of
Ariadne
since their first day there, the day of the earthquake. Much of the
rubble had been cleared away, but the amount of construction being done
startled Cendri, and she asked, "Is this all the aftermath of the quake
the day we came here, or the small one the other night, Rhu?"

 
          
"Oh,
no; there was a great quake here, almost one of our Long Years ago. Had Vaniya
not received a warning from the Inquirers and from We-were-guided, the city
would have been destroyed. As it was, many, many lives were lost. Now I see
they have the recycling plant in operation again, to process gold and magnesium
from seawater for export." His face gave a cynical twist. "But our
balance of payments is nothing to me. I am much more interested in the
rebuilding of the Symphony Hall. Vaniya has promised that if I continue to
please her—" Cendri thought she had never heard anything as bitter as
Rhu's voice, "she will arrange to have my first two symphonies performed,
as well as the cantata I am now finishing."

 
          
"Do
you compose too, Rhu?" Dal asked, and the Companion sighed and said,
"I turned to composing after my voice was destroyed by growth. There was
really nothing else for me."

 
          
Dal
said impulsively, "I wish you would not say that your voice was
destroyed.
It has only matured and is more beautiful than ever."

 
          
Rhu
stared bleakly out the window. "A man would say so,"

 
          
Cendri
said quickly, "Rhu, you have the most beautiful voice I have ever heard.
On any world in the Unity it would make your fortune; thousands would be at
your feet in admiration."

 
          
Rhu
looked at her, his face twisting. "I cannot believe there is any civilized
world in the Galaxy where a rough voice like mine is preferred to the beautiful
soprano I once possessed."

 
          
Cendri
said, feeling the sadness in his words clutch at her heart, "I wish you
could sing on University; you would soon believe the truth of what I say."

 
          
"The
Scholar Dame is kind," Rhu said, shaking his head sorrowfully, "but
it is too late for me, even if somehow I could have that experience; I do not
think I could ever believe it, now."