C f bentley, p.40
C. F. Bentley, page 40
There had to be another way to bring Sissy home.
He bent to study the Covenant more closely. Surely hidden in the obscure language and poetic subtleties he’d find something.
“How long have you had your hearing back?”
Sissy kept her eyes lowered to the copy of the Covenant Guilliam and Penelope had brought her.
“You can hear me,” Jake said. He loomed over her, standing between her reading and the light.
She finally looked up. “Did you need something?” She tried to keep her face bland and innocent.
“I asked how long have you had your hearing back?” His voice sounded stern, as if he were addressing an enlisted man caught with a dirty uniform. “No use pretending otherwise. I know you heard the black crystal chime. I saw it in your face.”
“The black crystal is felt more than heard.”
“Aha! You did hear me.” He gloated.
“Some,” she hedged.
“How much do you hear?”
Almost everything. No sense in lying to him. He had a way of knowing more about her than she did herself.
“Some,” she replied. “The chiming in my head drowns out a lot.”
“So why keep it a secret? This should be a joyful thing.” He crouched down so that his face was level with hers.
“I find it useful.” She tapped the pages of the Covenant.
“A continued excuse to stay away from Harmony City. Laud Gregor must be getting frantic. The empire is grinding to a halt.”
“Exactly.” She tapped the pages again. “I want copies of this Covenant published, released to the media. I want all of Harmony and her empire to know how far from the path we have strayed. Can I trust you to do that for me?”
“You can trust me with your life, My Laudae.”
“I know that. But can I trust you with the fate of the empire?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She ducked her head, pretending not to hear or understand him. Not yet ready to expose the dark thoughts that crowded around her at night when all was silent, except the constant ringing in her head.
“You heard me.” He lifted her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Why wouldn’t you trust me with the fate of the empire? You are the empire. Your life is more important than the Covenant, or the government, or even the CSS offer of peace.”
“The CSS offer of peace. You always come back to that.”
“I think it is key to maintaining the Covenant.”
“Is that all?”
“Of course.”
But he was lying. She wanted to weep again in a kind of grief as deep as she felt for the loss of her family.
Only this kind of grief could not be soothed by a ritual.
Chapter 61
Gregor forced himself to bow to Sissy. His stomach roiled and his blood pressure boiled that he, High Priest of all Harmony, was reduced to bowing to the woman he had raised to become his equal.
She had the audacity to remain seated in an overstuffed chair set at an angle to the hearth. The Covenant forbade a single monarch. No one person had total power over Harmony.
Except this woman, this Lood, had brought an Empire to its knees in less than a year.
Nothing worked. Garbage piled in the streets. Banks closed. The marketplace had reverted to barter. Factories closed because Noble owners ran low on cash to pay their Workers. The Military still patrolled but arrested no one for theft or speaking their mind at the parks and community centers. They only did their jobs in cases of violence.
And now the Spacers reported shooting down five different spy ships with Maril markings. The CSS had sweetened the offer of peace with major trade concessions as well as immediate alliance against the Marils.
He had to get Sissy back to the capital and the government working again. No matter the cost to his pride.
If she’d just get rid of the damned cat in her lap that seemed to occupy all of her attention. Another monarchical trait; pampering useless animals and making them more important than the Nobles and priests who ran her government for her.
“Laudae Sissy,” he said. Oh, how that common, unsophisticated name grated on him. But he had to use it or have her turn her back on him once more.
He didn’t bother to include Jake in his greeting. The bodyguard slouched insolently against the wall between Gregor and Sissy. Gregor had no doubt he could stop any threat to Sissy, despite his seemingly lazy posture.
“Laud Gregor.” Sissy spoke in that curiously flat voice. By all reports her hearing had not returned. Might never return. Could she function as HPS if she could not hear the crystals chiming during ritual?
If he could persuade her to retire due to ill health—he, or rather Guilliam, had found precedent for that—he could elevate Penelope and get life back to normal. Sissy seemed happy here mucking about with the bones in the caves. This might be her destiny.
“I have brought you an acolyte to replace Jilly,” he said, being careful to speak each word slowly and loudly.
She tilted her head in a curious expression. Clearly she did not understand him.
Jake handed him an erasable tablet and a bold marker. “You have to write it down for her.”
Grimacing at each stroke of the pen, Gregor wrote his words, big and black in a squarish printing, no room for misunderstanding.
“No. No one can replace Jilly.”
“But the numbers.” He hated the delay required for writing his answers.
“The numbers are right. Harmony and her six consort gods. A total of seven. Harmony Prime and her six colonies. A total of seven. Each priest and priestess must have six acolytes. A total of seven.”
“We can’t suddenly fire one acolyte from every P and PS in the empire.”
“Natural attrition. Do not replace those who take ordination or reassign to other positions.”
Gregor glared at her for several long moments. “As you wish,” he finally acceded. That gave him an excuse to get rid of Guilliam for his disobedience in forming a permanent mating with Penelope.
“What else?” Sissy asked, almost bored.
“I come to beg you to return to the city,”
“Why should I?” Sissy replied after only a brief glance at the tablet. Her reading skills had improved tremendously.
“I plan to open the High Altar. I need you to preside over the ritual,” he said and wrote at the same time.
“Good.” She continued to look at him expectantly.
“What? What more do you want?”
“Is Lady Marissa still free and part of the government?” Jake asked for her. He made some curious signs with his hands, as if speaking to her in code.
Sissy nodded her acceptance of that condition.
“I have asked Lady Marissa to resign from the HC.” Gregor wrote the words. His head throbbed with the lie. He hadn’t asked. But he would demand it if that would bring Sissy home.
“Not enough.” Sissy turned away from him contemplating the fire.
“That is all I can give you. To do other would break the caste system.”
She continued to stare at him expectantly.
Gregor turned on his heel and stomped back to his helicopter. He had only one choice remaining if he wanted to keep the entire empire from falling apart and becoming prey to both the Marils and the CSS.
“Laudae.” Gil bowed to Sissy. He seemed to spend more time here in the mountains with her, than doing his job back at Crystal Temple. He’d take ordination if he could stay here with Penelope and the children. Not that Penelope would agree to such a change.
“I understand your need for justice. Lady Marissa caused me and my family much grief.” He ran his hands through his hair, wishing he could find better words, a better solution. “But bringing Lady Marissa to trial is too much too soon. You cannot break the caste system all at once.”
“Why not? It is an artificial system.” Her voice had gained a little inflection. She still spoke overloud and relied on written words to help.
“But it has worked well for centuries.”
Guilliam had trouble keeping his pen strokes logical and ordered. His mind raced ahead and back again, losing its linear track.
“If the caste system worked so well, why did you show Jake the damning documents?”
“She’s got you there, Gil. Why did you show me? Why not leave the bones and murals a total mystery.”
Gil noted that Jake didn’t bother writing anything anymore. Sissy seemed to understand him perfectly without aids.
“Because I knew she would figure out the murals.”
Sissy rose from her place by the fire. “Show me.” Without waiting to see if he followed, she pulled on outdoor shoes and a coat.
Jake shrugged and found his own sturdy boots.
They kept an almost comfortable silence on the trek up to the caves. Just inside the entrance, Sissy paused and drew in a deep breath, as if replenishing herself with Harmony’s bounty. Gil did the same. The close stone walls welcomed him, promised him sanctuary and peace. The wind blowing from an opening higher up the mountain, down to this narrow entrance blew away a lot of the clutter in his mind.
“I grew up in caves very like this in the Central Mountains,” he said quietly. “This feels like home.”
“Are there murals like these elsewhere?” Jake asked. He struck a light to a torch. The smoke drifted behind them as they negotiated the long passage to the altar cavern.
“I have found similar ones throughout the Northern and Southern Continents,” Gil said.
“When did you figure them out?” Sissy asked. She led them unerringly through the maze to the old cavern. The air was quieter here, below the main entrance.
“I never did completely. But when I found the diary in the archives, I remembered the murals and guessed much of the symbolism. I knew that you, with your deep connection to Harmony, would understand. I wanted Jake to know the truth, to guide you if you stumbled.”
“I needed to know the truth. All of Harmony—the entire empire—needs to know,” Sissy said.
“In time.” Gil had to press his agenda. “The caste system worked because people believe in Harmony’s path and seek an order to their existence, to the universe.”
“The frozen embryos that became the first generation with castes had no choice,” Sissy spat.
“The people who donated the embryos believed. They could not leave their old home, so they sent their unborn children in their place. Because they believed the teachings of the first settlers.”
Sissy grunted something. They said nothing more until they entered the side cavern. The mural opened before them, colors more brilliant than he expected. He gasped in wonder.
“Never have I seen anything more magnificent. All the others are smaller, damaged by time and damp. Less complete.”
“The cave system is dry. This room was sealed, possibly by the Marils,” Jake said. “No one to damage it. Only time. Except for the modification in the corner. We still don’t know who did that or why.”
Gil glanced briefly at the small picture of Discord at Harmony’s feet. “Whoever did that, didn’t understand the rest of the story. Wasn’t even very good at drawing.” He dismissed the crude figure.
“Do you know how to read this?” Sissy asked. Her fingers caressed the center reverently.
“I know to start there in the middle and end in the right-hand corner. The exact sequence, though… ” he shrugged.
“A spiral. In a wide oval that follows blessed Empathy’s path across the sky. Like a bird of prey gliding on an updraft,” Sissy whispered.
“The Marils may have been the victims here on Harmony. But they are far from innocent themselves. They are birds of prey at heart. Very violent and dangerous,” Jake said. He remained by the room’s entrance holding the torch. “We believe that they feast on carrion.”
Sissy questioned that word.
“The rotting bodies of those they kill in battle.”
She looked like she wanted to gag.
“For that reason alone, Harmony must remain united and functioning a while longer,” Gil returned to the original purpose of his visit, pressing the advantage of her disgust.’ “If you break the caste system all at once, we face chaos.”
“We’ll be vulnerable to invasion. We’ll be lucky if it’s the CSS. We’d all better pray it won’t be the Marils,” Jake added. He looked very uncomfortable with this conversation.
“And if we deserve invasion and death?” Sissy asked. She’d set her chin.
Gil couldn’t allow her to win.
“Perhaps our ancestors deserved it. We don’t.”
“But…
”
“Change we need. Breaking we don’t, Laudae,” Jake said. “We need to start looking outward.”
“Gradual change,” Gil coaxed. “Begin with the schools. Penelope wants to help with that. Bring gifted Worker and Military children into Professional schools. Bring the Poor in any way we can. Upgrade Worker schools with more teachers and textbooks. Begin building new schools that merge several castes,” Gil explained the outline Penelope had given him.
“Let the children get used to dealing with other castes. As they grow familiar with each other, prejudice will dissolve,” Sissy mused. “Now, will you please return to Crystal Temple?” Gil pleaded. “What about the… the ones born with altered caste marks?” Gil noted that she never could say “Lood.”
“I have it on good authority that the Spacers fix their Loods,” Jake said. A look of hope crossed his face, as if he knew Sissy moved away from her extreme position.
“How?” Sissy asked, suspicion clouding her eyes. “The children cannot be manipulated in artificial wombs like the original settlers did.”
“An easy process,” Gil jumped in. “Much like when Jake had his caste mark upgraded to officer and Lauded to serve the temple. The same way I added sparkle to your caste mark when you were in hospital.” He had to hang his head in guilt over that, but he watched her through lowered lashes.
“That was you?” Sissy laughed.
“I knew that doubters would respect the sparkle and acknowledge your authority. You see that the caste system is too ingrained to dissolve all at once. Give it time while we secure our borders through alliance and trade.”
Sissy flashed Jake a stern glance.
He shrugged and put on a mask of innocence. He must have been pushing the same idea.
“We will tear down the asylums,” Sissy insisted.
“The buildings are large and useful,” Gil protested, seeing them as housing, schools, and hospitals for the Poor. “Tear them down.”
“Yes, My Laudae.” No reminders of the horrors the asylums represented.
“Now will you return to Crystal Temple?”
“When something is done about Lady Marissa.” Sissy left the room abruptly.
Jake followed, leaving Gil to find his own way out through the darkness.
A darkness that was easier to negotiate than the mess at Crystal Temple.
Chapter 62
“I’m just a sneak thief,” Jake told himself. “Pammy, you have a lot to answer for.” Unfortunately, he’d have to answer to Pammy all too soon.
His time on Harmony drew to a close. Sissy wouldn’t need him much longer. She moved Harmony toward the position Jake needed them in for his plans to work.
But first he had something important to steal.
He pressed himself into the deep shadows of the chapel. A vigil lamp burned on the altar. The permanent array of crystals there absorbed the faint gleams and glowed within as if alive. Maybe they were. On this crazy planet he’d almost believe that.
A huge black crystal stood at the center; an artifact worth several fortunes in the CSS.
Funerals and grief blessings dominated the rituals here. The crystal was essential for those. Strange he’d never noticed it before. But then, he couldn’t remember coming into the chapel before. Sissy only came here on Holy Days, preferring to perform her rituals in the caves. Jake stayed outside, observing the comings and goings of the scientists on Holy Days.
After hearing and feeling the black crystal reach down into his soul and enfold him in love and comfort, he’d grown beyond almost believing in the path of Harmony.
That scared him more than facing Pammy with failure.
At this point failure was not an option.
Jake felt his way forward, keeping to the walls, away from any chairs or other things left surrounding the altar in the middle of the largest room in the complex.
The black seemed to swell as he approached the altar. The reddish lights within it concentrated at whatever point he fixed his gaze. He imagined a big accusing eye following him.
“Don’t worry, you are safe from me,” he told the crystal, with his mind as well as his whispers. As much as he coveted that crystal, he had to leave it behind. It was too big. It would slow him down.
He sought the dressing and storage room on the opposite end of the chapel from the entrance. He’d checked out any number of those dressing rooms—vestries they called them back home—while guarding Sissy. He knew the layout. Getting in and out should be simple.
Except his own guilt made his feet heavy and his steps slow. “It’s for your own good,” he told all of Harmony as well as himself. “You’ll thank me when this is all over.” If it would ever be all over.
It had to be. Everything was in position. All he had to do now was wait, and keep nudging Sissy in the direction the galaxy needed her to go.
“I could use a little help with that, Lady Harmony.”
No answer.
Of course the planet didn’t speak to him, an alien, as it did to Sissy. Lately, Sissy had had precious few conversations with the planet. He couldn’t recall a single prophecy since… since Jilly died.
Oh, Sissy had faked a few.
