Idols (24 page)
After a good foot washing, we are allowed into Bibi’s house—with the exception of Brutus, who is captured by the housemaid and dragged off to the showers, yelping.
I imagine we will be next.
The first thing I notice when we step beyond the doorway is that the house isn’t a house at all. It’s a school. A long table is crammed with students—boys and girls both, also in yellow-gold robes, calculating numbers on slates with chalk, or counting beads along a rope.
“You’re a teacher? And these are your students?” I take in the rest of the classroom—from the global languages to the mathematical equations inscribed on the walls.
A classroom.
Something Ro and I never had.
“That’s me.” Bibi utters a line of Colonist dialect, and then laughs. “Roughly translated, that means ‘the Home of the Educated Pig.’ That’s what they call me.” He beams. “Did you see the new sign? Cost me fifty digs, but I think it really classes the place up.” Bibi bursts out with a new round of laughter that shakes the table in the center of the room.
“Are you also teaching them your shoddy workmanship and your lazy work ethic? The things you know better than anyone?” Fortis pats Bibi on the back, and Bibi puts his arm around Fortis in return.
“No. And neither will I let you teach them a single thing you ever taught me, old man. Neither cheating nor lying nor stealing. Because the goal is not a prison pen, here, my friend.”
“What is the goal? If you don’t mind,” Tima says, curiously. As she speaks, she leans down, murmuring to correct a tousle-haired child working on a math problem, and I realize what a natural teacher she could have been.
Could be
, I think.
Life is long.
Life could be long.
I hope.
“Oh, the usual sort of thing. Right understanding. Right thoughts. Right speech. Right action. Right livelihood. Right effort. Right mindfulness. Right concentration. And so on and so forth.”
“Not to get a job with the Embassy Stooges, like Yang did?” Fortis sounds strangely bitter, and even Bibi’s good-natured smile clouds over.
“Ah yes. Yang. Our only friend at the General Embassy. Of course, that would be why you’re here.”
“That’s not why we’re here. I only wondered if she might be of help to us. For once.”
“Let’s talk in the garden.”
Bibi raises his voice to the children.
“Khaw chuu Lucas. Khaw chuu Furo.”
He looks at me.
“Khaw chuu Doloria. Khaw chuu Timora.”
Wordlessly, they fly out of their chairs and fold themselves down onto the floor in front of us.
They bow as if we are kings or gods, or the GAP himself. None of which we are, any more than we are a golden-framed street painting the size of a building.
A boy in the front row looks up, still pressing his hands together.
“Yes, Chati?” Bibi encourages him, and the boy utters a long string of syllables that sounds beautiful, if incomprehensible.
“Ah,” says Bibi. “He says we’ve been waiting for you for a very long time. We knew you were coming, because of your great fame. And we want to help fight the sky Lords.” Bibi sighs. “All right, all right, calm down. There’s plenty of time for that.”
He nods to the boy, who grins back proudly. Then one more string of strange syllables comes flying out of his mouth, and Bibi bursts into laughter, nodding.
“What?”
“And also, he wants to know why you don’t take a bath. Because of the remarkable dirty pig smell.” Bibi pulls open a curtain at the far side of the room. “Which is in fact a most excellent question. Come. Let’s see what we can do about that.”
The shadowy classrooms give way to an inner courtyard garden, full of sun and flowers and colorfully cushioned floor seating. Stripes of bright reds and golds, pale greens and deep blues, cover every surface.
I reach to touch a low pot of blooming flowers, and they shiver under my hand. They’re set in water, I realize, floating in a pot the shape of a flower itself.
Even the flowers have flowers, here. That’s how full of life this place is.
Bibi disappears, and we lower ourselves down gratefully. Only Fortis looks out of place.
“Don’t get too comfortable. We aren’t staying long.”
“Why not? Maybe he could help us,” says Tima, wistfully. “There’s an entire school here. They have to know something.” I don’t blame her. There are cushions beneath our bodies and smells coming from a not-too-faraway kitchen. More kinship, more comfort, than has been extended to us since the Idylls.
“Why not? Because William Watson runs the minute things go haywire. William Watson could be in the next room phonin’ up the GAP himself, if it cleared up his own rubbish name. William Watson won’t get his hands dirty, and it’s a dirty world, right about now.”
“Tell us what you really think, why don’t you?” Bibi stands in the doorway with a stack of rolled white towels. “You can wash up in the student house, down the next hall. My housekeeper is in there now, filling the baths.” He gestures with his head, tossing the towels at us. “The Merk and I have some catching up to do.”
Fortis nods. “That’s an understatement.”
“I’m a monk. I try to avoid excess. I walk the Middle Path.”
Fortis raises a brow. Bibi looks from his fist to his enormous belly. “Ah yes. Well. Three out of four vows ain’t bad.”
“I’d say you’re lookin’ at around two, tops,” Fortis says, reaching out to pat Bibi’s belly.
Bibi shrugs.
“Off you go, then,” says Fortis, without so much as looking our way.
And so we do.
Out of sight, but not out of earshot.
This monk nearly took down a Merk, just for knocking on his door.
Not one of us will pass up the chance to find out why.
GENERAL EMBASSY DISPATCH: EASTASIA SUBSTATION
MARKED URGENT
MARKED EYES ONLY
Internal Investigative Subcommittee IIS211B
RE: The Incident at SEA Colonies
Note: Contact Jasmine3k, Virt. Hybrid Human 39261.SEA, Laboratory Assistant to Dr. E. Yang, for future commentary, as necessary.
PRIVATE RESEARCH NOTES
P
AULO
F
ORTISSIMO
08/23/2066
M
ORE IDEAS ABOUT HOW MY “INSTRUMENTS” MAY BE ABLE TO HELP MY CAUSE.
O
UR CAUSE
.
T
HE CONCEPT IS RESONANT FREQUENCIES
. E
MOTIONS ARE EXPRESSED AND FELT VIA ENERGY, WITH A UNIQUE WAVELENGTH
. I
F MY CHILDREN CAN BROADCAST THIS ENERGY AT INCREDIBLE “VOLUME,” WHAT EFFECT WILL IT HAVE ON THOSE AROUND THEM
? S
OUND WAVES CAUSE NEARBY WALLS TO VIBRATE
. A
STONE DROPPED IN A POOL CREATES RIPPLES THAT EXTEND TO THE FARTHEST EDGES
.
T
O RETURN TO THE INSTRUMENT ANALOGY, IF A CHILD CAN PLAY AN EMOTIONAL NOTE SO LOUDLY, SO CLEARLY, SO PURELY, IT SHOULD INFLUENCE ALL PERSONS WITHIN THE IMMEDIATE ENVIRONMENT
. T
HEY WOULD ALL ADOPT THE SAME VIBRATION, WOULD THEY NOT
?
S
URELY A HYPOTHESIS WORTH TESTING
.
Once we are out of the room, none of us moves any farther than a few steps behind the doorway curtain. None of us wants to miss what comes next.
I crouch next to one wall, Tima hovers along the other. Lucas and Ro stand between us, behind the hanging fabric—all of us inclined toward the words being exchanged in the next room.
We don’t make a sound.
“What’s wrong? Did you run out of soap, then?” Fortis grabs Ro by the ear.
“Ow,” Ro protests.
But it’s no use, and within minutes, the door of the student house slams behind us before we can talk our way out of it.
Our tubs are really just old wooden barrels standing in a row and separated by colorful, well-worn curtains strung up along clothesline.
“Let’s get naked,” Ro shouts, gleefully.
“Let’s get clean,” Tima answers.
“You’re no fun,” Ro laughs.
“And you stink,” she answers, calmly.
Lucas says nothing. Knowing him, he’s sunk all the way under the water, just so he doesn’t have to listen to Ro. I wish I could tune it all out myself.
I can’t.
Still, the water is steaming hot, and as I relax my neck against the rough wooden edge of the tub, I try to remember the last time I was clean.
Before the ship.
Before the attack on the Idylls.
Before the Bishop died, and Fortis came back.
The thought makes me sit up in the tub with a splash.
“Dol? You okay?”
“Sure. Yeah. It’s nothing.”
I lean back and close my eyes, reaching out. I feel my way past the four of us and out toward the school. I can tell by the chaotic clash of inner noise when I’m getting close—and then, suddenly, I see them.
The picture has never been so clear.
Face-to-face, Fortis and Bibi. Only a teapot between them.
I can see them perfectly clearly—which is something new. It’s as if I’m standing in the room.
“You had no business bringing them here.” Bibi’s voice booms, though he tries to moderate it. He can’t help himself.
“Why not? Your own little lad there just said you were expectin’ us. And I know our reputation precedes us.” Fortis looks smug.
“Of course the Colonists have talked of nothing else since your little trick at the Hole. Word spreads like the plague. Which is about how pleasant it is to see you again.” Bibi is red-faced.
“Why aren’t you happy to see me, William? Don’t you want me to liberate you?” Fortis’s voice sounds strange, almost as if he is taunting the monk.
“No. I want to keep my heart beating and my head attached to my body, thank you very much. Or I should say, no thanks to you.”
