Sheri Tepper - Singer From The Sea

by Singer From The Sea(Lit)

  And again the call and the reply, the call in different words, but with the same sense. You of the spirit are welcome. With your ancestors, ascend into the house of our people. With your children, ascend into the house. Women's voices to call and women's voices to reply, for only women were free of warlike pride enough to know when it was safe to invite outsiders in, when it was safe to accept the invitation. Even as the women called welcome, the men postured but beware, threatening with their clubs. Welcome, but beware.

  At last the women's voices won out and the people came into the courtyard, the servants of the deep into the refuge of marae morehu, place of survival.

  There were further songs in the courtyard, ancient expressions of the culture of a sea and island people whose identity had been lost among the great press of other peoples on Earth, a people whose language had been preserved only in ritual, a people who had been chosen for a sacred duty, to fulfil a specific purpose. So said the words of Tewhani tapairu parauri. Stephanie, Dark Queen.

  Unconscious of having made any decision, she found herself halfway down the stairs as the last of the songs dwindled to silence. She had been busy thinking. Now she had thought. It was time to talk to the chieftains of the people.

  * * *

  "We attack the malghaste to the south," said the Shah to his minister. His voice was high and petulant. His mouth was pursed. He looked, thought the minister, like a fretful baby. "The malghaste have for too long existed on our border, affording refuge to those who escape from us."

  Saelan knew that the escape of the Havenite woman annoyed the Shah past endurance. No woman could be allowed to escape. The Shah needed more women, not fewer of them!

  "It is very early, and Your Effulgence has not had breakfast. Perhaps the decision..."

  The Shah waved him silent, crying in a high, treble voice, "We will raze the nest of the rebels."

  "Effulgent One, we do not know that the woman went to the place the malghaste call mahrei. Indeed, it is unlikely in the extreme. Her water bottle and a broken sandal were found far to the southeast, on the trail to Zimmi oasis..."

  "It doesn't matter. If she had come to this mahrei, they would have taken her in."

  "Effulgent One, is this... is this a proper time to wage war? You are holding Prince Delganor and the Marshal..."

  "They are my guests," interrupted the Shah, with a curled lip and raised nostril. "As they must be, since their ship departed. I think, however, that I will make them my allies. The Marshal is a military genius, so he tells me. Perhaps I will put him in charge of the army. He can quell the malghaste in their mahrei. He can find his woman child and take her out in the desert, dedicating her to my use. Then I will consider elevating him."

  Ybon Saelan swallowed deeply. "The ship departed, Effulgent One, because the Captain panicked, thinking the demonstration was directed at him or his men." As certainly it had been. Ybon had counseled the Shah against attacking the ship. Had the ship been destroyed, the Prince would have had no way to return home, the shipments of grain and fiber and other necessary material would not have arrived in Mahahm, the people of Mahahm-qum might well have arisen against the Shah. Driving the ship away was just as bad, since there was no way to reach it. The foolish people left in the house had destroyed the communications devices. All of which the Shah should have understood. Would have understood, in prior years.

  He murmured, "We will hope that the Captain of the ship returns soon, Your Greatness."

  "We will cut the Captain into pieces," said the Shah. "Before the eyes of the Prince. If the Marshal does not help us, we will cut the Marshal to pieces, as well."

  Cursing silently, Ybon bowed. "Great One, the Marshal is of the nobility. And the Captain may be needed to return the Prince to his own land. From which our foodstuffs come. From which our bodies are clothed. From which our needs are met."

  "Then we will take members of the crew. They cannot trifle with us in this way, Saelan! I am weary of it. The razing of this mahrei place will distract me while we wait for the ship to return."

  The minister sighed and said the only thing he could. "Your Effulgence's word is our law. We will go south."

  Inside himself, Ybon felt a tiny click, as though a switch had been thrown. As though a machine he had forgotten was there was now energized. As though a certain line of thought that had been unthinkable had been opened for leisurely contemplation.

  In the marae, the people were ready to confer. The seven representatives of the many chieftains did not use their names while on such business, Melanie explained to Genevieve. Their names were local, tribal, familial. When they spoke for all the people, they used only their numbers, the order in which they had been appointed to this duty. First for the people, Tuatahi, had served longest. Seventh, Tuawhitu, had served least long. When a member died or resigned, the numbers below moved up a notch and a new seventh was appointed. Whoever was First at any given time was also chairman, and this one was tall and bulky, with long, strong brown arms and legs and a muscular torso half hidden by the length of fabric wrapped around his waist. Both men and women wore this garment, plus a loosely woven top to shield their shoulders, backs, and arms from the ardor of the sun.

  The garments only partially hid the tattoos, which could not have escaped notice even though the contrast between the black patterns and the dark skins was not great. The patterns covered all faces, necks, and arms plus the backs of the women, the backs and chests and thighs of the men. Beginning at the sides of the faces, they swirled across cheeks and foreheads, symmetrically across chins and noses and lips, meeting in the center like the markings of some fabulous beasts. No two were marked alike, though all the designs were similar.

  "It is polite to wait patiently while the chieftains speak," Melanie said, in an urgent tone. "Sometimes they speak rather lengthily, saying what everyone already knows, but it is still polite to wait."

  Genevieve set herself to be patient, which was one thing she had learned that she could use. When she was seated before the committee, all of them seated in a line, their symbols of authority arrayed around them, First gave her a long, weighing look, and then began to speak:

  "Our ancient tongue is used now only for matters of honor and wisdom, mana and tapu. I speak in the language of your understanding, the language of this world:

  "Long ago, when the canoes came to a new land, while most of our people worked to make us secure upon that land, a few of this family and that family were called aside and given great mana and heavy tapu, which we held secretly throughout the ages, for we were the star swimmers, the servants of the deep.

  "From father to son and mother to daughter this knowledge was given, and those who learned it practiced it in hidden places. In the ages that followed it was known only to those who held it. Our foregoers called themselves the patient ones, nga whakamoumori, and we remained true, unmixed, learning in each generation the secret things of that generation, the mea huna, the mysteries.

  "As the ages passed, men proliferated upon the earth and in time the earth was sickened unto death. Only man was left in any numbers, and the spirit of the world spoke to our people from the sea, saying that it must depart the earth, for the earth was dying. So, we went among the people of the world, and we cried a great shaming in the parliaments of mankind, speaking only of the creatures who should be saved, but not of the spirit, whom the powerful despised. Still, the spirit moved them to be ashamed, and the parliaments saw to the building of ships to carry the ancient creatures of the world away, to new worlds." He fell silent, to a murmuring among the listeners.

  Second, a large, strong woman with a wild mane of dark hair took up the story. "And the creatures of the world entered into the ships, attended by the star swimmers and the servants of the deep, and the ships went out toward distant worlds. The captains of the ship were given destinations, but after they were launched, the spirit chose what worlds they would come to. The crews of the ships were confounded, and the ships were cast upon worlds chosen by
the spirit rather than upon the worlds mankind had chosen."

  Third, an elderly man, with white hair, went on: "We were on the last ship, the greatest ship. We remember the struggle to break free of the ship when it fell into the sea, as a bird must break free of its egg. With the help of the spirit, the star swimmers and the servants opened all the doors and all the gates, all those within were set free, and the spirit who had attended the ship from the old world flowed out into the new.

  "We rejoiced, believing that all would be well with this new world and with us, and so it has been for many generations. But now the spirit cries out against this growth upon Mahahm, saying it carries the same destruction as that we left behind, the destruction of greed. The spirit says the evil will touch even the depths, and this world will die.

  "We cannot understand why it says this, for the world seems healthy to us. We do not comprehend it, and we ask for enlightenment, but the spirit says we can do nothing but wait, that Tenopia was fathered from the depths, and her daughter Tewhani sent into the world that in time her daughters would return, bringing us understanding. You are the first to return. So it is said."

  They fell silent, staring at Genevieve.

  "The mana you were given, it was the singing of the harbingers' language, wasn't it? The voice of the sea?"

  Wordlessly, they nodded.

  She asked, "How many thousand islands have you settled?"

  Two of them glanced at one another, then at Melanie, who sat nearby. She shrugged.

  "She didn't tell me," murmured Genevieve. "But you dark-skinned people have obviously not interbred with the lighter-skinned ones. There are two types of you, and if one has settled Galul, the other must have settled elsewhere. There should be millions of you islanders, after forty generations."

  "We have settlements on several thousand islands," First said. "Most of the populations are small, a few thousand. On Earth we were an island people, we have become so again."

  "None of your villages would be evident from space, not even in Galul."

  "You are correct," said Fourth. "Even there, we stay out of sight of the ships that come in." She was a slender woman with skin like brown satin.

  "Galul was settled by your lighter-skinned people," Genevieve said. "Who were less well adapted to the sun and the sea."

  "There was another reason," said Melanie. "Ten of the original keepers' staff were scientists, six of them so-called white, four so-called asian. The rest of the keepers were sea people, Maori they were called, who actually worked with the creatures."

  First nodded. "There were different skills represented by the two groups, and all the skills were needed. Our ancestors lost much of their equipment and records, and they were not sure whether needed aptitudes would survive if we interbred. Retaining the original types became one of our customs, even after we learned that the skills existed in both groups.

  Galul is still occupied mostly by those like Melanie whom we call shell-people, light skins. As you say, they are not as well adapted to the sun and the sea."

  Genevieve nodded. "Which turned out to be a good thing, because when the settlers landed on Haven, they too were light-skinned. You'd have had a hard time penetrating that society if you hadn't had light-skinned agents. But Stephanie was dark, and though it's surprising, she managed to penetrate the society of Haven. How long have you been investigating the people of Haven?"

  "Only since P'naki," said Third. "Only since the atrocities."

  "You reacted to stop the Mahahmbi killing your women, but you did nothing about their killing other women. It's clear you could have done something. You are numerous enough that you could have killed the Mahahmbi who came out into the desert to perform those rituals!"

  "But that wouldn't have stopped it," objected Second. "People on Haven knew all about the lichen, so we'd have had to kill most of the Mahahmbi and a great many of the Havenites, including many innocent persons. As for killing the lichen, even destroying a small patch of it was difficult, and we've found the spores on all the islands of the Stone Path and on the shore cliffs of Haven." She sighed deeply. "We thought we'd done everything possible, but the spirit doesn't agree! It agitates. It does not rest."

  Melanie said, "Recently, when we figured out how to procure off-planet equipment, we set up computer models of various approaches we might take-"

  "You managed to procure equipment," interrupted Genevieve, "by planting agents in Havenor and having them falsify purchase orders from the Lord Paramount. You intercepted the shipments when they arrived in Bliggen. You probably have quite a number of agents working in that so-called resort, as well."

  "That's perfectly true," snapped First, "and how did you know?"

  "My travels have been instructive," she replied. "I find that I can reliably infer all kinds of things I'd never thought of until this morning. In fact, I know a good deal more than you do about what happens to all the things the Lord Paramount buys with women's lives. I can also tell you why the spirit is so upset, the same reason your computer models will tell you, when you get around to running them."

  "That's hard to believe," said Melanie.

  Genevieve smiled grimly at her. "Then don't believe. Veswees tells me belief isn't necessary. Nonetheless, in a very short time there will be an invasion from space. It will result in the subjugation of this world and an eventual depopulation of all landmasses..."

  "Impossible!" cried First, turning on Melanie. Melanie held out her hands, palms up, her face very pale. "You can't know that," the dark man cried, his hand clenched on the table before him. "Melanie has just given the problem to the machines. They are just now working on it..."

  "Machines or no machines, you will be invaded," said Genevieve calmly. "The first dose of P'naki that was sold off-planet made it inevitable. Once people out there learned that long life could be found on Haven, it became only a matter of time until they would attempt to take the planet. An invasion force may be already on the way."

  "From where?" demanded Melanie.

  "Among the planets most likely to attack I would guess either Chamis or Ares. They are closest. Of those two I would say most likely Ares, for the Lord Paramount's Aresian guards have had the freedom of the palace for several years and Aresia has a powerful motive. Their planet is dying."

  "The spirit has departed their world?" asked Fifth.

  Genevieve made a dismissive gesture. "Leave religion aside. I don't believe or disbelieve, but it doesn't affect what's going to happen. When the invading forces get here, they will do whatever is necessary to find out how the life stuff is produced. For a time they may be misled by the identification of P'naki as a fever medicine, for most of Haven, at least, believes that to be true. They may try to find out peaceably, but if that doesn't work, they will resort to torture, or drugs, or both. Once they find out, they will use every woman on this world to fertilize the lichen, including all your women, and they will enslave all the men."

  She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "They will regret this deeply, but they will do it. It is likely all the children on Haven will be shipped to Ares, for their population is falling, and they desperately need more people.

  "Then, having used up the women of Haven, they will buy or steal women from other worlds. This will inevitably lead to war among several worlds, and in the end this planet will be ruined for all forms of life." She paused, looking at each of them, significantly. "It is inevitable. It will not take long for it to happen. Unless the lichen is destroyed."

  The room erupted in hubbub, people yelling at one another. Genevieve got up and left. She went to the kitchen and asked the cook if she might have something to eat. Inside she felt fiery, as though she had swallowed a furnace. Two glasses of tea did nothing to put out the flame. Slowly she ate fruit and a circle of flat bread wrapped around a slice of fish in hot sauce,

  "Brought by our visitors," the cook advised.

  It didn't matter who brought it. She couldn't taste it. She was resolutely staring at her empty plate w
hen Melanie came to fetch her.

  "Have they stopped yelling?" Genevieve asked. "You know I won't talk to them anymore unless they've finished."

  "There are still some raised voices."

  "I will not be shouted at. I have told them what is necessary. I will not defend it against their doubts. If they have not wits to see it, then let them suffer the consequences."

  "You are not the same girl who came here two nights ago, full of tears and sorrows," cried Melanie, with more than a little anger. "What got into you?

  "I am doing my best to be someone else," Genevieve replied, her tight jaw belying the tears in her eyes. "For eleven years I was programmed by my mother to be two people, one public, one private. The public person was quiet and sedate and covenantly. The private person was something I can't even describe to you. I've been a conduit for Mother's forces and Father's furies, for intentions set into motion generations ago, for covenants decided millennia in the past. I'm through playing parts written by other people. This will have to be a role I will write myself. I may die of it, but it will be mine or no one's.