Murasaki, page 18
“I don’t think anybody’s going to study him without killing a lot of Chujoans,” Philby said. “And that we will not allow.”
A planetary consciousness ... Something that united both worlds, something only vaguely felt by either the Ihr-dizu or the Chujoans. If he could prove its existence, as one might prove the psychic link between two twins, then all of his beliefs would fall into place....
Carnot tossed in his weightless bed within the Benev-olent, drifting slowly between the cylindrical wall of the elastic net. He felt it was important to return to the starship every couple of weeks, important that he maintain direct contact with the ship’s captain, who had suffered horribly from the plague, and might even now be insane.
When Camot thought of what they had lost, of the price paid by 183 of the Benevolent’s crew, he felt a sick darkness rise inside him. Not all the faith, not all the con-viction of his service to Jesus the Ground of All Being could erase his sense of loss. From here on, his life would be a scarred, dedicated emptiness; he knew he would be little more than•an efficient shell; the old Carrot had been burned out, leaving fire-hardened wood.
He could not even find the fierce love he had once felt for his wife. He rotated to view her sleeping form beside him. He needed her, admired her enormously, but they paid each other the minimum due of affection, all each seemed to require now. She, too, had been burned hollow. Sex be-tween them was at an end. Sex had always been a kind of play, and this close to the truth, this close to the death and disfigurement of their people, no play could be allowed.
And now to be hunted ...
He closed his eyes tighter, hoping to squeeze a tear or some other sign of his humanity between the lids, but he could not. The shooting pains in his skull had subsided; his backaches and strained muscles had improved in the two days in orbit, breathing shipboard air.
He thought of the Earth and his young adulthood and the simple miseries that had filled him then. Had his people suffered any more than others had suffered for their faiths? Was he being pressed any harder than ahy other leader of peoples who believed in pattern and justice and order? These events had been enough to drain him of the pleasures of simply existing; was that the sure sign of his ultimate weakness, that he could no longer take satisfaction in serv-ing Jesus? That he could no longer take satisfaction in hav-ing a wife, in breathing in and out in not being hungry or in having survived that which had turned so many of his people into corpses or pain-racked monsters?
Now he found his one tear, and he let it bead beneath his left eye, then break free to float before his face, a true luxury. Deep inside, a younger voice said, You’re goddam-ned right you’ve had it hard.
Space was supposed to be clean and clear-cut, with sharp dividing lines between life and death, a beauty of pin-sharp stars and mystic nebulae. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, tending this horrible leaky tub across nine shipboard years, and then arriving on the inconceivably far shore and finding disease and hid-eous death. Not, supposed to be that way at all You’ve been pushed.
Don’t expect joy when you’ve been pushed this hard; do not be so demanding as to expect joy after what you’ve experienced.
Carnot opened his eyes and saw Captain Plaissix float-ing in the open hatchway. Beyond Plaissix, through the transparent blister of the central alley’s cap, Carnot saw Genji’s blue-gray surface fall perpetually beneath them.
“The Japanese have sent a message,” Plaissix said. “They wish to speak directly to you.”
Half of the captain’s face had crumpled inward. The wineskin plague had been made up of Chujoan bacterioids particularly well-adapted to living on minerals; they had devoured much of the calcium in his bones, and in his nerves, as well.
“All right,” Carrot said, giving up yet another at-tempt at sleep. He slipped from the net, glanced at Made-line, sleeping soundly, and floated past Plaissix, who tracked him with off-center haunted eyes.
The ship’s communications center was in a constant state of repair. George Winston, the last remaining engi-neer, moved to one side to give Carrot room. The image of a young Japanese woman floated a few hands away from its expected position. Winston shrugged in apology: best he could do with what they had. Her voice was distant but clear.
“Carrot here.”
“My name is Suzy Tatsumi,” the woman said. “I’ve just traveled to Chujo and back with Edward Philby. We would like to arrange a meeting between your group and his.... To settle your disputes.”
Carnot smiled. “1 don’t believe we’ve met, Tatsumi-san. I’ve been working with Hiroki-san of Station Hokkaido on Genji.”
“He has transferred his responsibilities to me.”
Apparently the conflict between Carnot’s expedition end the rationalists was beginning to worry the Japanese. Until now, they had been content not to intervene in any disputes. Had this Tatsumi woman already been poisoned by Philby and his representatives?
“1 have no time to meet with the rationalists,” Carnot said quietly. “They are physically stronger than we are. They would have attacked us by now, if it weren’t for their lack of offensive weapons.... They cannot harm our ship in orbit.” Actually, he was not sure of that.
“Your problems do not seem nearly so ... unsolva-ble,” Tatsumi said. “Nor violence so near. I think it would be good for you to begin speaking to each other.”
“You have remained neutral until now,” Carnot said through tight lips. “I can only trust you will not join up with them, against us.”
“There are many problems we can resolve, Mr. Car-not. We are very far from home. and it is ridiculous to fight among ourselves, when we have faced so many common dangers.”
“Tatsumi-san, you underestimate the depth of divi-sions between our kind. I have already had my dialogues with Edward Philby. We spoke while still traveling here ... in deep space. We talked to each other like students in a philosophy class, sharing opinions, until he accused me of wanting to destroy Murasaki’s natural systems. He be-came intransigent. We know where we stand. If you will not take sides—” And damn you, if you stay neutral! “-then please leave ‘us to our histories,” he fumbled for what he wanted to say, “our destinies. For what lies ahead.”
Tatsumi regarded him with sad, serious eyes. “Mr. Carrot, Edward Philby has spoken with Kammer.
He says that Kammer tried to kill you. If the man you consider so vital a link, if he himself believes you are wrong ... “
Carnot laughed sharply. “Please do not argue my faith with me, Tatsumi-san. He struck me with his stick. He did not kill me.”
Tatsumi said nothing, puzzled into silence, trying to riddle this human mystery.
“His stick, Tatsumi-san,” Carnot repeated, surprised they had not guessed by now. “He blessed me with his greatest gift. Because of that blow, some of my people are alive now.” He was too weary to waste his time with her any longer. “Good-bye, Tatsumi-san. If you wish to offer us help, we are not too proud to accept.”
He ordered Winston to end the transmission. The engineer did so and stared at him as if awaiting more instruc— tions. Captain Plaissix had come, into the communications room and simply floated there, his deformity an accusation. Carnot had applied the crushed and writhing balm of a patch of Kammer’s symbiotic snug, embedded by the stick in his own skin, first upon his wife, and then upon the others. By circumstance Plaissix had been last. Surely by circumstance and not by Carnot’s own subconscious planning. Plaissix had been the most doubtful of his reve-lation regarding Kammer. The one most likely to frustrate their designs, after they had come so far ...
Casual contact with the avatar was death; the Japanese had learned that much. But to arouse the avatar’s passion, and be struck by him, was to live.
“Who is the fanatic, then?” Eiji Yoshimura asked. “And who is the aggressor?” The director of Hokkaido Station rose from his squat stone desk, cut from Genji’s endless supply of slate, and stood by a rack of laboratory equipment. By trade Yoshimura was an agricultural biolo-gist; he had never wished to be a politician, but deaths at the station during the plague had forced this circumstance upon him.
Tatsumi tried to say something, but Yoshimura was angry and raised his hand. “They are all fools.
This Eng-lishman Philby, by what right does he dictate his phil-osophies?”
–1 regret Philby’s determination—” Tatsumi began.
“They are all troublemakers!” Yoshimura ranted.
“Director, please hear me out,” Tatsurni said, her own voice rising the necessary fraction of a decibel to break through her superior’s indignation.
“My apologies,” Yoshimura said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “I am not angry with you, nor critical of the work you have done.”
“1 understand, sir. Philby’s fears are well-founded. Al-ready Carnot has spread his religious beliefs to nine Genji associations. Already nine temples to their version of Jesus, and to Kammer, have been built, and villages established. Carnot will soon have a broad enough base of support to endanger our own mission, should he so choose—using Ihrdizu as his soldiers. His success is quite remarkable, and I would not put it past him, at some point ... “ She paused, wondering how much of Philby’s attitude had penetrated her. “He might do so,” she concluded, dropping her gaze.
Yoshimura considered this with deep solemnity. “Do you truly believe Carnot will go that far?”
“He has been pushed very hard,” Tatsumi said. “By the plague, and now by the rationalists.”
“I once would have counted myself among the ration-alists,” Yoshimura said. “But I have never tried to impose my will upon those who disagreed. Has Carnot made any converts in our camp?”
Tatsumi reacted with some surprise to this question, which had not occurred to her. “Not to my knowledge,” she replied,
“I will inquire discreetly. You look shocked, Suzy.”
“I find it hard to believe any of our people would believe such drivel.” She spoke with more heat than she had intended.
Yoshimura smiled sagely. “We are human, too. We are in a strange land, far from home, and we can lose our bearings as quickly as anyone else. We do have some Christians among us—Aoki, for example.”
“Aoki is very circumspect,” Tatsumi said “Besides, traditional Christians would hardly recognize the beliefs of the God the Physicist Church, as preached by Carnot.”
“Such an awkward name,” Yoshimura said, making a monkey face. “Still, I would hate to fight an army of Ihrdizu—led by the females, no doubt” His expression slumped into solemnity again, and he seemed very old and tired. “Try to reason with Carnot again. If he is still un-willing to meet with Philby, then ask him if he will meet with our people—with you.”
“I do not believe he will. He is exhausted and de-pressed, sir.”
“Do you know that for certain?”
“It’s obvious.”
“Then he’s even more dangerous,” Yoshimura said. “But we will try anyway.”
Tatsumi sighed.
Six kilometers above sea level, perched on Mount Ni-itake, the first Genji station of starship Descartes overlooked a vast, broken deck of clouds, a muddy blue-gray horizon spotted with deep thunderheads, and to the north, a magnificent vista of ragged hogback ridges.
In the gymnasium, Philby stood up under Genji’s ex-cessive affection, muscles aching from the hour.
of accli-matizing exercise. With most of his time spent on kinder, simpler Chujo, the storms and thickness and pull of Genji was like being immersed in heavy sleep; but here was the core of their problem, among the apparently gullible Ihr-dizu, who were building temples to Kammer—and to Car-not’s Jesus. And who were changing thousands of years of tradition by banding together into makeshift villages.
Theresa O’Brien joined him in the gymnasium, dressed in exercise tights, short hair frizzed with the inev-itable moisture. Theresa was the Lorentz’s female captain, nominally in charge of shipboard activities only, but still highly regarded, and still Philby’s superior. “How’s the tummy, Edward?” she asked.
“Ah, tight as a drum,” Philby responded, thwupping his abdomen with a thumb-released finger. “I’ve never been in better shape.”
O’Brien shook her head dubiously. “You’ve always inclined to more muscle than you needed, then neglected, then to gut. I watched you put on and take off at least three crewmember’s masses during the journey.”
“Brutal Theresa,” Philby said dryly, continuing his leg-lifts.
“When are you leaving for the Showa Bay temple site?”
“In four hours,” Philby said.
“I’ve come from Diana’s bungalow,” O’Brien said. Diana Cicconi was the expedition’s First Director, directly above Philby in the chain of command. O’Brien squatted carefully beside him. Exercise on Genji seemed ridiculously slow; anything faster and they might injure themselves. She sat and watched his red face. “Don’t overdo it.”
“The exercise, or ... ?” Philby didn’t finish.
“We don’t like what Carnot’s doing any more than you,” O’Brien said. “But the Japanese concern us, too.
We’re making an impression here, not just with the Ihrdizu and the Chujoans—with our fellow humans, as well.”
“They seem to be on our side, certainly more than on Carrot’s side,” Philby said, stopping to devote his full at-tention to their conversation. “I hope. Diana’s not rethink-ing our plans.”
‘It seems to some of us that you’re the one doing the rethinking.”
“Diana put me in charge of relations with the Benev-olent. We’ve all agreed they’re dangerous: I’m following through.”
O’Brien nodded. “Edward, it sometimes seems you’re the aggressor, not them. What will the Ihrdizu think if ...” She shook her head and didn’t finish.
If C.arnot’s made such an impression on them, and we constrain him?– Philby finished for her. She raised her chin in the slightest nod, as if wary of him.
“I apologize, Theresa,” Philby said. “You know my temperament better than anybody. I’m thorough, but I’m not a loose beam. Reassure Diana for me.”
“She’s arranging for a reception. The Japanese are coming—and she tells me they’re trying to get Carrot to come, as well.”
“Cm always a man for dialogue,” Philby said He replaced the padded bench and weights and wiped his face with a towel. “But Carnot ... I think he is not.”
“Will you listen to Carnot if the. Japanese convince him to come?”
“What will he ... “ Philby realized he was being ex-cessively contrary, and that more argument might tip the balance in O’Brien’s eyes. “Of course. I’ll listen.”
She turned to leave, and he could not restrain himself from saying. “But, Theresa, there must be constraint on their part. That should be clear to all of us. We are pro-tecting the Ihrdizu from the worst parts of ourselves.”
“Are ‘we?” O’Brien asked over her shoulder.
“Yes,” Philby said after a pause. “Any doubts on that score and we might all be lost.”
“I do not doubt Carnot is a danger,” O’Brien said, and closed the door behind her.
That evening, as Philby checked in with the Lorentz for up-to-the-minute map upgrades, the communications manager told him they had received a signal from two light-years out, from the first expedition, and that among the messages was something extraordinary. Philby read the newest message again and again, feeling both exhilarated and sad, and the wheels began to turn in his mind.
If he must meet with Carrot, then he wanted to be able to shatter that little plaster prophet once and for all. Now, he might have the hammer to do so.
When traveling at close to lightspeed, our geometry is distorted, such that, to an outside observer, we reveal as-pects of our shapes that are not usually seen . . . around curves, edges. We are warped in ways we cannot feel. ... Is this also not true of our souls?
Carnot inspected the eleventh finished temple, his legs and feet aching abominably. He used two canes now to support his weight; to the Ihrdizu, he called them “Katrunerstaffs.”
He had long since spread the story of Kammer’s strik-ing him. He had found an interesting analogy to his con-tretemps with Kammer in Ihrdizu storytelling, a resonance he could take advantage of.
Indeed, this was the very association of lo-Ihrdizu, so said Ihrdizu legend, where the angelic Szikwshawmi had landed in ancient times and struck the female warriors with staffs of ice to give them superior strength. At the same time, the Szikwshawmi had frozen the tongue-penises of the males, making intercourse in both senses of the word impossible. The females had gone out in their frustration and gathered in new males from distant villages, leaving frustrated females in those villages to go forth and do like-wise ... and so on, a great wave of Sabine rapes.
It was hardly a precise analogy. In some respects it was embarrassingly inappropriate; but the Ihrdizu found it compelling, and when searching for mythic roots, one had to bend and to be bent.
The temple, constructed in a thick patch of beach forest like giant, thick-stumped manzanitas, deep in a shadowy hollow filled with drifting mist and sea spray and dark tidal pools, was certainly the gloomiest that had been built so far. The Ihrdizu in this association, which spread from the shore to over ten ldlometers inland, were, larger, more sul-len, more suspicious than any they had encountered before. The females certainly seemed to be brusquer and more dominating. There was also less monogamy here than else-where; females took two males as mates about half the time, reflecting recent depredations because of warfare with another association to the east along the coast.
This region had been visited by the Japanese only once, years before. Yet still the stories of Jesus and Kam-mer and Carnot and the Chujo connection had spread into these shadows and taken, root. In this Carnot took substan-tial satisfaction. He had hooked into the myth, and the shoots would spread of themselves. Even if I die.
The temple matched the necessary specifications. Car-not performed the ritual blessing and walked on the sticks to the !ander. The females watched him closely, beautiful agate eyes totally open, all membranes removed. The males were hiding. Sight of him was not for the weak and small. He• was powerful. He was their reawakening.
