Climate of Change (45 page)

“You promised!”

“I don't want to hurt you either.”

“You told Rebel to do it! To kill her! Why?”

She would brook no evasion. She did indeed have a will of obsidian. “The soldiers would hurt a woman—or a girl—so bad, it's better for them to die first. Rebel would have killed Allele, and then herself, before the soldiers reached them. So they couldn't be hurt.”

She pondered that. “You wanted it?”

“No. But I love them. I would rather see them dead, than tortured.”

“But my father wasn't going to do that. He wanted me to live with you.”

“We didn't know that, at the time.”

“He said you have courage and honor.”

“We did what we had to do.”

“Yes.”

“But I'm glad it turned out as it did. It is better for all of us.”

“Yes.”

She let the subject drop at last, but Keeper was left uneasy. The child had something on her mind, and he wasn't sure what it was.

Meanwhile, Rebel had a problem. She caught Keeper alone to discuss it. “I have talked with the others, and they don't know what to do. Maybe you do.”

“Do? About what?”

“I think I am falling in love.”

“With Tuho? That's not a problem.”

“With Tula.”

He stared at her. “I don't understand.”

“I can never have a daughter of my own. Tula—she is such a darling. She wants me to marry her father.”

“But it was agreed to be a temporary affair.”

“Yes. When he goes to a new station, I will remain here.”

“And be with Tula no more,” he said, realizing the source of her distress. That much he could comprehend; he had felt the child's force of personality himself. He was coming to love Tula too, despite already having a wonderful daughter.

“Yes. I dread it.”

“But you can marry him. You can make any man marry you, if you choose.”

“Yes, but would it be right? To marry him for his child? So I could feel like a mother?”

Keeper considered. “Do you dislike him?”

“Oh, no, I like him. He's a good man. I could surely love him, if I let myself.”

“Then why not let yourself?”

“Because the motive is wrong. It's the wrong reason.”

He saw her point. Love with an unethical base was not wise. “Yet if it seems best, overall—”

“And Tula may not love me.”

“But she does! She stays with you every night, instead of with Allele.”

She shook her head. “She wants to make sure I marry her father. That's not the same thing.”

“How can it not be?”

“I don't know. But it's not.”

His sister shared the ambiguity they all did. Tula was wonderful, yet mysterious. None of them knew what was truly in her mind. “How can a child be planning something we don't understand?”

“I don't know. But I'm not easy.”

That, added to his own doubt, made Keeper uneasy too. So next day he braced Tula. “What do you want with my sister Rebel?”

There was no evasion. “I want her to marry my father and make him happy.”

“So you can have a mother?”

“No.”

He was startled. “Then why?”

“A father.”

“But you have a father!”

“Not like you.”

“But—Rebel is my sister. She. . . I. . .” This was all confusing.

“Hug me,” she said.

He glanced at Kettle, but the slave was as usual unresponsive. However, Keeper had learned to read him somewhat. If the man saw any threat to the girl, he acted. Had he seen a threat in such an action, he would have tensed. He was a slave, but no one would be wise to try to balk his protection of the child.

So Keeper kneeled and put his arms around Tula, hugging her. She
hugged him back with an ardor almost like that of a woman. “I love you.”

What did she mean by that? He tried to disengage, but she clung. “I want you to be my father.”

That was too much of an answer. “But that can't be,” he protested. “Tuho is your father.”

“He doesn't have time for me.”

And Keeper did. He was beginning to see that he had made a mistake. But he needed to know the whole of it. “I thought you were interested in water, in nature, as I am.”

“Yes. Anything you do.”

“Your father—Commander Tuho—is an important man. He must do his job, every day. He loves you, but can't be with you all the time. He brought you here so we could provide you with what you lacked.”

“Yes. A family. I want it.”

He was still floundering. “But you can have a family, if Rebel marries your father.”

“Yes. I can be with you.”

“I mean that Rebel can be your mother. She loves you.”

“She is for my father.”

“I don't understand.” It was something of an understatement. “He needs a woman in his life,” she explained patiently. “When he has Rebel, he won't need me. I can be with you.”

Her notion was coming clear at last. Tula wanted to provide for her father, so she could be free. She had been alienated by circumstance. Perhaps her mother, dying of disease, had told the child that she would have to take care of her father. Tula had taken it literally, and made an awesomely rational plan to fulfill the obligation. And to recover for herself what she most missed: a functioning family.

“What do you think your present father thinks of this?” he asked. “He likes Rebel. A lot. She's very good for him. She's tough and she's pretty. When he saw her ready to kill Allele, he knew he liked her. She's very good at sex too. He'll be happy with her.”

She had it all figured out. He tried another tack. “I already have a daughter.”

“Yes. Allele. She's nice. I'll be her sister. The way Rebel's your sister. We'll stand by each other forever. A good family.”

This was ridiculous, yet there was logic in it. He would not mind having a daughter like this, with no disparagement of Allele. But it could hardly be that simple.

“I am not sure about this,” he said. “I will have to talk with Commander Tuho.”

“Yes.”

Their dialogue was done. He disengaged and glanced again at the slave. There was a trace of a smile on the man's face. What did it mean?

Tuho was away that day, but Keeper caught him next morning. “Sir, I need to say something.”

“By all means.”

“I fear you will not like it.”

Tuho smiled. “Is my daughter becoming too much of a burden?”

“Not exactly. We get along well. Too well, perhaps.”

Now Tuho frowned. “Be specific.”

“Tula wants to join my family.”

“She likes Rebel. So do I. Our arrangement is temporary, by mutual agreement, but I think I would like to make it permanent.”

“To marry her?”

“Yes. That would make my daughter happy. In that way she can join your family.”

“It is not that simple, sir. Tula wants to—to exchange Rebel for herself. To have Rebel join you, and Tula join us.”

Anger showed. “How dare you presume!”

“I don't presume, sir. It was a surprise to me. I tried to explain, but she has her own mind. She—she doesn't seem to see you as a family. She wants ours. I thought you should know.”

“If this is true, I shall have to take her away from here.”

“I think so, sir. You wanted her to be with a good family. She wanted it too, too literally. We do like her; we all do. We would love to have her with us. But we never meant to take her from you.”

Tuho nodded, making a key decision quickly, as a good commander did. “Will Rebel go with us?”

“Yes, I think so. We like Tula, Rebel loves her. She can't bear a child of her own.”

“Arrange a meeting of the family, and we will settle this today.”

“All of us? Surely a private dialogue would—”

“It must be accomplished openly, so my daughter understands.” Keeper nodded. “Perhaps so, sir. But this may not be easy.”

“True.”

It wasn't easy. Tuho spoke directly and plainly: “I must seek other quarters. My child and I will depart shortly. We—”

“No!” Tula cried, stricken.

He glanced down at her. “What is your concern?”

Tula knew better than to defy her father openly. Her plan was now transparent, but she did her best. “You must marry Rebel, and she will go with you.”

“I would like that.” He glanced at Rebel. “Will you accede to marriage, and to be this child's mother?”

Rebel was taken aback by the directness of the proposal. “I'm not sure this is wise.”

“I do want you,” Tuho said earnestly. “You are the best woman I have encountered, since my wife. Do you object to me as a husband?”

“No. But—”

“Do you dislike Tula?”

“No!”

“Then it seems sufficient. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she agreed uncertainly.

“And I will stay here,” Tula said, clapping her hands.

“No,” Tuho said firmly. “You will come with us.”

“But you have Rebel. You don't need me anymore.”

He did not try to refute the girl's logic. “I need you both.”

“But I need a family!”

“We will be your family,” Rebel said. “I love you, Tula.”

“But I love this family. Will you stay here?”

Rebel looked at Tuho. He shook his head. “No. We will go.”

“Then I will stay here. With Keeper. And Craft.”

Keeper closed his eyes. He couldn't respond.

Craft, similarly disturbed, did. “Sometimes two families intermarry, and stay together. Haven married Harbinger, and Keeper married Crenelle. But none of us are high officers like your father, Tula. He has responsibilities that take him many places. He is your blood father, and you must be with him.”

“But I am giving him Rebel!”

Rebel spoke. “I think I can't marry you, Tuho.”

“But you must!” the child cried.

Now Rebel did what she never did: she wept.

Tula turned to Keeper. “Why?”

This he could answer. “Rebel loves you, Tula. She wants to be with you, and be your mother. But if she marries your father, and you stay with us, she can't be with you. Your father loves you too, and if he marries Rebel, you say he can't be with you. So though they like each other, and want to marry each other, they can't, because they would be losing you. Unless you go with them.”

“But I want to be with you,” Tula said to Keeper. “Don't you want to be with me?”

How could he explain in a way the child would understand or accept? “Yes, I want to be with you, and have you for another daughter. But sometimes we must do things we don't like. Remember when Rebel was going to kill Allele?” Allele, sitting with Crenelle, flinched; she didn't like that memory. “She was ready to do it, because otherwise it could be worse.”

Tula nodded. “Yes.”

“Now Rebel is ready to give up your father, though she wants to marry him, because otherwise it will be worse.”

“But you will not torture me.”

“If I took you, it would torture your father. He needs you, Tula.”

“But if he has Rebel—”

“He needs you more than he needs Rebel. You are all that remains of your mother.” He paused, then tried another aspect. “Our cultures differ. We are Maya; you are Toltec. When we marry, the new couple spends seven years living with the bride's clan, paying off the debt to the bride's family. Then they move to the husband's family, or establish
their own household. This is not the Toltec way, and your father is not able to do such a thing. We understand that, and Rebel is willing to forgo the way of our culture. But only if she can be with you; otherwise the sacrifice is too great. It would be similarly difficult for your father. Without you, it would not work well.”

The child considered. She understood the importance of herself, though perhaps not in the way the adults did. She was accustomed to being the center of attention wherever she was—except when with her father. For a moment Keeper hoped she would yield to the ideal compromise, and agree to stay with Tuho and Rebel. But then she sighed, and walked back to her father. She had lost her ploy, but she wouldn't compromise. She was a warrior's child. She would leave without Rebel, rather than accept what she believed was the wrong family.

Beside her father, she turned. “This isn't over,” she said grimly.

Keeper hoped she was right. But she was the one who would have to compromise.

The neglect of the temples and public buildings continued for centuries, and Xlacah decreased in size and importance. The squatters lived there for generations, leaving trash middens on the floors as deep as four feet. Yet the city was not dead; new buildings were constructed, and old ones renovated. One existing structure became the Temple of The Seven Dolls, but it's not clear what the purpose of the dolls was.