Hidden Empire (32 page)
“Look at the ground, Celli.” Beneto gestured to condorfly wings scattered like colored glass all around the meadow. The bodies
of the dead insects were quickly consumed by natural decomposition, but the tough, translucent wings remained, artifacts of
their brief but dazzlingly colorful existences.
“We each have our lives, little sister. What matters is not how long those lives last, but what we
do
with them. I have my work with the worldforest. Reynald will be the Theron Father someday. Sarein is going to be the next
ambassador to Earth. You and Estarra have to decide for yourselves what you will accomplish.” Beneto reached out to stroke
the condorfly’s sleek body. “Your pet has his own life as well. What do you think he wants to accomplish?”
Celli said, “He keeps me company.” The condorfly flapped its wings again, straining on the leash to join the other insects
around the flower-filled meadow.
“And has he accomplished that in his life?” Beneto asked.
“He’s my pet. I love him.” Then Celli seemed to sense what Beneto was implying as he gazed at the flurry of other condorflies.
“Oh. Maybe he’s not sick, just lonely.”
“Give him a few days to fly around in the meadow and feed from the flowers, Celli,” Estarra said. “He knows the way back to
your room if he ever wants to visit.”
Reluctant, the little girl loosed the bindings of the leash. The condorfly rose up, flapping gracefully. It seemed to gain
energy immediately, swirling around on updrafts; then it flew to the bright flowers, touching other insects, communicating
with pheromones or subsonic signals.
For a long time, they watched it dance and dodge in the air, and finally the three all returned to the fungus-reef city, walking
close together, though a tearful Celli continued to look over her shoulder into the meadow….
That night, after Celli was asleep on her pallet with the window open to the jungle, the condorfly drifted back in. It landed
on her sleeping form, spreading its wings like a coverlet. The little girl stirred and mumbled, but did not wake as the beautiful
insect twitched its wings one last time, then died atop her blankets.
With her long hair twists tied out of her way, Estarra joined the conversion team in the empty worm hive, cleaning debris
the giant invertebrates had left in their nest. Scrubbing hard, she smoothed wall barriers and marked places for furniture
or doors to be cut. Other Theron workers shored up arches, blocked off dead-end tubes to be used as storage chambers, and
tore down thin walls to expand living quarters. It had taken them some time to map the convoluted passages of the hive, but
the new dwelling complex had begun to take shape.
Since the worms did not follow a blueprint based on human convenience, the Therons had to make do with the basic structure
and passageways. Some of the worm tunnels were large enough for a man to walk upright, but others required crawling from chamber
to chamber. The people would learn their way around the maze, enlarge some of the tunnels, and soon this place would be a
bustling complex. Many families had already applied to Father Idriss and Mother Alexa for new quarters here.
Outside, two daredevil young men chased each other in glider contraptions made from discarded condorfly wings and a few scrap
pieces of equipment still functional from the old
Caillié
. Estarra longed to be out playing with them, but she had responsibilities now. This worm hive was her discovery, and she
wanted to leave her mark. At first, the reconstruction engineers had looked patronizingly at Estarra, expecting that she would
get in the way. But she had been just as diligent and dedicated as the rest of the crew.
Now, working against the hive’s outer wall, Estarra used a hot cutting tool to slice through the papery material. She broke
through to the outside air and opened a flap that would form an important primary window. It would also be decorative and
colorful… and a fine way to memorialize Celli’s pet.
After she cut the opening, Estarra lifted the first of the large wings from the dead condorfly. It looked like a triangular
section of stained glass. All around the outer walls, detached condorfly wings had been added to portholes and illumination
squares, drenching the rooms in rainbows. After Estarra applied the four wings, this chamber would look like an ancient cathedral.
Using a pot of sap cement, Estarra brushed the edges of the window hole. The adhesive would dry as hard as iron and hold the
multicolored wing in place. Finally, she stepped back to admire her work. It was a glorious addition to the new dwelling complex
where all could see it. Estarra thought her little sister would like that.
A
s a green priest, she had new and important duties, but Nira still enjoyed her old activities. At least once a week she swapped
tasks so that she could climb to the treetops and read aloud to the fascinated worldforest. She could think of nothing nobler
than telling stories.
Balanced on a thick bough, Nira read in a voice inflected with emotion as the tale of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight rolled
off her tongue. She herself didn’t know how the adventure would end. It was all new to her, and she knew the forest was as
eager as she was. Through her bare skin, Nira could feel the trees responding like an audience.
As she finished reading the story, Nira caressed the scaly bark. Practicing her new abilities, she forged a connection with
the tree, dipping a thread of telink into the overall forest. She could access any part of the ever-growing database of information,
but the trees were more than an encyclopedia. She could consult with them, learn what the forest had synthesized from all
the information it had gathered. But the worldtrees still kept their secrets, even from important green priests like Yarrod.
For her enjoyment, Nira queried the worldforest and received a flood of stories. Suddenly the reservoir in her mind was filled
with more tales than she could imagine. It would take her many restless nights of vivid dreams to digest all the things she
now knew. With a sigh of gratitude, she broke the telink.
Nira felt the tree fronds vibrate around her and recognized the approach of another priest. She didn’t need to look, because
the worldtrees identified her visitor as old Otema, who had served for so many years as ambassador to Earth. Nira turned,
surprised and intimidated. Surely, the stern but knowledgeable old priest was not looking for her.
Though the woman was ancient beyond Nira’s comprehension, Otema climbed with the rapid grace of a tree lizard. She joined
Nira on the wide palmate branch, gazing into the forest. “I remember how excited I was when I first took the green, how many
things I needed to learn.” She turned her attention to Nira; her dark-eyed gaze seemed distant… even wistful. “After more
than a century, the wonder and majesty of the great worldforest never wanes. The trees feel as enthralling to me now as they
did when I was your age.”
Nira didn’t know what to say. “I… thank you for your insight, Ambassador Otema.”
“Just call me Otema, child. The green priests have no use for those titles.”
“Yes … Otema.” Gathering her courage, Nira said, “I’m surprised to see you here. Are you looking for someone?”
“Yes, and I’ve found her.” It seemed an awkward tableau, the two women standing on a narrow branch in the treetops. “Yarrod
said I might find you up here, though it wasn’t your assigned day to read to the trees.”
Clutching the datapad defensively in her hand, Nira said, “We each serve according to our abilities and our interests.” She
touched the dark lines around her mouth. “I am an accomplished reader, and I like being up here.”
“You enjoy history, then? Adventures, legends, and myths?” Nira tried to detect criticism in the old woman’s voice, but found
none. She simply nodded.
“Interesting,” Otema said. “I have studied your family, and I wonder where you discovered your interest in legends. Did your
mother tell you stories when you were a little girl?”
“Not at all. In fact, that is one of the reasons I was glad to be joined with the worldforest, because it opened a new universe
for me, one that I never could have found at home.”
The eldest of eight children, Nira Khali had come from a relatively poor family that lived in one of the oldest worm-hive
dwellings. A set of chambers that had once been quite comfortable for her parents became a crowded encampment for their growing
family. When Nira had entered the priesthood as an acolyte, her family had been sad to see her go, but they had also appreciated
the extra breathing space.
Nira had always been a thinker and a reader, while her parents and siblings were content to work in the gardens or fruit orchards.
Her parents spent their free time on amusements and games, joining in festivals and talking with friends. Nira, though, would
rather be reading.
“I am looking for someone who enjoys stories,” Otema said. “Such a person would be of great benefit to my next assignment.”
Nira’s heart jumped, curious about what the ambassador had in mind.
Nira remembered many times when she had read to herself, crouched against a curved wall of the worm hive for a few moments
of solitude. Though Nira loved her family, they did not understand her. She wondered if she was like a cuckoo that had hatched
in the wrong nest. Nira wanted to ask a thousand questions, but she held her silence, politely waiting, though her eyes shone
with fire and curiosity.
Otema continued, “Reynald has returned from his peregrination. He has seen many worlds, talked with great leaders, and observed
unusual cultures.”
“I’ve listened to all his reports with great eagerness,” Nira said. Did Otema want her to speak with Reynald, to act as some
kind of historian and compile his experiences to be stored in the worldforest database?
“When Reynald spoke with the Ildiran Prime Designate Jora’h, he requested a remarkable boon. You have heard of the
Saga of Seven Suns
?”
“Of course,” Nira said. “It’s supposed to be the longest epic ever recorded. It would take years and years just to read it.”
“Years and years would not allow you to absorb even a fraction of it,” Otema said. “Reynald received permission for two green
priests to study the
Saga
. We can read it, document it, tell the stories to the treelings we bring along with us. The
Saga
is far too long for any person to absorb in a single lifetime.”
Nira gasped and then covered her mouth. Her throat went dry.
“Since my duties on Earth were completed, Father Idriss and Mother Alexa have searched for a task to keep me busy. I’ve been
away from the worldforest for too long, and I don’t intend just to sit and water treelings.”
Nira jumped ahead. “Are you traveling to Ildira?”
“Not alone, child. It is an enormous task, and Reynald was granted permission to send
two
green priests.” Otema’s face brightened. “Nira, I would like to request you as my personal assistant, companion, and apprentice.
We will journey together
to Ildira under the light of seven suns.”
Nira’s family could barely believe their daughter’s good fortune, though it took some time for her news to sink in. Her parents,
Garris and Meena Khali, had never thought much about other worlds; the thick forest on Theroc already extended farther than
their imaginations did.
Nira had trouble comprehending that she would cross the Spiral Arm to the capital of an immense alien empire. She would be
gone from Theroc for years, away from the forests, away from other green priests, away from her family. But she had been practicing
her telink abilities: As long as she could touch a treeling, she could remain in contact with the entirety of the worldforest.
She had no reason to be afraid, only excited.
Nira shared a meal with her family in their cramped living quarters. Garris wanted to call all the neighbors inside the crowded
worm-hive rooms so they could wish Nira farewell. It would be a great celebration, a happy opportunity for socializing. But
Nira, panicked at the prospect of having to face such a gathering, pleaded that she had too much business to take care of
before her departure. The merchant ship would be arriving within a day to take them to Ildira.
