Part 9 (1/2)
”I want to hear the song again,” he said.
She knew at once what song it was-the lullaby she had once sung to him each night, so he would go to sleep and she could go off on her night rounds, the profession that those of her caste practiced.
Sleep, my baby, sleep, And tomorrow I'll bring you a copper ring And the next day I'll bring you a silver chain And the third day I'll bring you a crown of gold.
Sleep, my baby, sleep, And I'll pluck the twin suns for your eyes And the twenty moons for your fingers and toes.
By the G.o.ds of death, she loved this child.
His eyes were closed. She wondered if he was feigning slumber-a last effort to remain a child, perhaps, knowing that from today he would no longer be one, even if he lost the race.
Oh, you are beautiful, Taruna esSarion thought, and wondered what the boy's father was doing; they could not, of course, have anything like an exchange of letters, or even be seen to recognize one another in the street; such things were forbidden between one as exalted as he and a mere woman of the streets.
If only.
”Counselor Troi! Counselor Troi!” It was the voice of Dr. Crusher echoing through her skull. ”You slipped out of focus for a moment-your life signs-”
Yes, Deanna thought. Step back. The wave of empathie vibration had almost sucked her in, had made her seem to-partic.i.p.ate-in the simulated past. Or had that meeting with the boy's mother really occurred? At what point did the dailong's virtual creation cross over into actual real history? Mustn't let the welter of emotions get to me- ”There,” came Beverly's voice again. Now she knew that it was coming from the Enterprise, and that she and Kio sar-Bensu were still in the inner chamber of the comet, linked somehow to the mind of this boy and to a moment in ancient history.
”Troi here. I'm fine. I'm going back in.”
”Are you sure?”
”I saw into that woman's heart,” Troi said. ”I want to see it through.”
Troi closed her eyes. Suddenly she was in the great plaza of Tanith's capital city, making her way toward the first of many tiers of parapets, packed with citizens chanting slogans.
Chapter Eighteen.
The Race ARTAS LET GO of his mother's hand as soon as they reached the first of seven parapets, representative of the Seven Ages of the Universe. He did not want to appear to be a mama's boy now, not with the fate of the world perhaps resting on his shoulders. Especially not in front of his big brother.
On the parapet were gathered thousands of men, women, and children, all wearing the corona of hatred in their hair, all waving the red-bordered flags of destruction which the city government had been handing out that morning.
A chorus leader whipped up the chanting: Whom do we despise?
Thanet! Thanet!
Why are they our enemies?
Killers of babies! Slaughterers of the innocent!
How long shall we hate them?
Forever! Forever!
Glittering on the seventh parapet, on a plinth of gold and diamantine, sat the vessel itself, a perfect sphere of s.h.i.+ny silvery metal. Soon the winner of the final test would shed his mortal body and become the soul of the great sphere, and be winging its way toward the enemy.
Artas could barely contain himself. Only for a split second did he look back at his mother, who looked away and did not meet his gaze.
On the third parapet, the place of the High Priests, the s.h.i.+van-Jalar sat enthroned on the back of the skeleton of a megamarton, its tusks upraised and holding up a flaming red banner with the sigils of the High Castes of Tanith. His daughter, Ariela, sat beside him, taking notes on his august words, whispering them into a palm device; the device, as it happened, contained the consciousness of Commander Data, who was still the interface between past and future, transmitting information and images back to the Enterprise.
From the parapet, the s.h.i.+van-Jalar could hear the tumult below, could feel the force of the people's emotion. That force was a powerful thing-if only-if only emotion alone could bring the war to an end, could force the final destruction of Thanet!
The counselors who sat around him, on their various lesser thrones, were stiff, impa.s.sive, all awaiting his word. Then the s.h.i.+van-Jalar smiled a little, and everyone seemed to relax.
My father, Ariela thought, more powerful than anyone in the world-even his smiles are watched, a.n.a.lyzed.
”If only you had been with me on the longs.h.i.+p, my daughter,” said the s.h.i.+van-Jalar. ”There was a young navigator-a wonderful match for you, I think. One Indhuon esSarion-yes, yes, I know the mother is a wh.o.r.e, but the brother, I understand, is a prime candidate for thanopstru.”
”Really, Father,” said Ariela, ”I do have the right to seek my own mate.”
The counselors looked discreetly away, not wis.h.i.+ng to intrude on a moment of domestic strain.
Her father clapped his hands.
”Sire,” said the first minister, lifting his censer up and wafting a powerful woody perfume over his master's nostrils, ”the hour is ripe; perhaps we should proceed to the final test?”
”In time. A thousand years ago-” His Transcendence rose up, placed his palms upward in the gesture known as drawing-wisdom-from-the-sky. ”-my ancestor undoubtedly sat on such a parapet, meditating on the very purpose of his existence. This time it's different-this time it's the very end of the Thanetian civilization, the final annihilation of those we have been taught for millennia to hate and fear. I think that it's only appropriate for me to ask aloud the question that I know has tormented all of you from time to time, which you do not dare utter for fear of a heresy trial.
”The question, my wise friends,” he continued, ”is why? Why are we fighting a race that appears to be exactly like us?”
Everyone looked very uncomfortable, and even Ariela wondered whether her father was going too far in testing the limits of the counselors' orthodoxy.
The s.h.i.+van-Jalar smiled. ”I will tell you the answer today,” he said, ”on the eve of our victory, which may also be our defeat, for if the Thanetians have not spent the last millennium developing weapons as powerful as ours, I would be most surprised. The answer to that burning question that flirts with heresy, my friends, is that we are all fools. I've prayed on this, I've downed the zul potion in almost lethal concentrations in order to communicate with our ancestors, and I've come to the realization that none of this was necessary.”
The first counselor, the one who had said it had always been so, said, ”Your Transcendence, for the s.h.i.+van-Jalar to speak heresy is unthinkable, because you embody orthodoxy in your very person. And yet-”
”Speak your mind, j.a.pthek, you may never get another chance.”
”Sire, I've often thought that perhaps the G.o.ds ... are simply toying with us-they've created this duality between two worlds, five thousand years apart in s.p.a.ce travel, though only instants away from each other by subs.p.a.ce communication-in order to test some theorem about balance and imbalance.”
”Interesting,” said Hal-Therion. ”So your way out of the Unspeakable Dilemma is-that we are but playthings of destiny. Anyone else?”
”I think,” said the second counselor, clearing his throat, ”that whatever Your Transcendence says must be the truth; for does not the Panvivlion state that 'the lips of the s.h.i.+van-Jalar are the lips of G.o.d'?”
”Even I do not know if that is so,” said the s.h.i.+van-Jalar, ”and really, I ought to know.”
”But if His Transcendence actually doubted-”
”I think that's what I'm trying to say, old man,” said the sage. And Ariela suddenly realized that her father was not joking after all. ”Now, today, on the eve of everything-I find myself wrestling with heresy.”
”Your Transcendence, even the legendary Tarsu of Saierion struggled with the dark forces before coming face-to-face with the s.h.i.+ning hardness of truth,” said the first counselor in whining, solicitous tones.
”Silence! I have said the unsayable-now, all of you, do your duty!”
Ariela was paying full attention now. Her father was challenging the others-a challenge that might in ancient times have been met with mortal combat, but that today tended to end more with a wager and a forfeiture of a token payment. Would anyone take the bait?