One of the councilors broke the bewildered silence; he cleared his throat and asked, “Are you suggesting, General, that the hair carpets were all produced, in order to cover a planet with them?”
“That is what one sees on an overflight of Gheerh. Wherever one goes, hair carpets, edge to edge, with no visible trace of the original ground beneath them. Broad plains, deep valleys, high mountains, coastlines, hills, slopes—everything, everything covered with carpets.”
The assembly watched the projected images, which confirmed the general’s statements, with fascination.
“But that’s insane,” someone finally said. “What purpose could something like that serve?”
Karswant shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture. “We don’t know. And we can’t imagine any possible rationale for it.”
Animated discussions erupted among the session participants, which the chairman of the Provisional Council brought under control with a commanding wave of the hand. “You are right, General Karswant. It certainly is difficult to believe,” he declared. “It’s surely the most unbelievable thing I’ve ever heard.” He paused for a moment. It was apparent that he was having difficulty getting a grasp on what he wanted to say. “We cannot possibly all fly to Gheera, even though I, quite honestly, feel the need to do so. We will simply try to believe you, General.”
He seemed positively stunned as he abruptly fell silent again and looked aimlessly about. Everyone in the hall seemed dazed.
“Whatever the explanation for all of this may be,” he continued, obviously trying to take charge of the situation again, “we will find it in the historical records. I am pleased that our charming Lamita Terget Utmanasalen is present today—one of the best historians we have. She administers the Imperial Archive, and perhaps she understands this better than we do?”
At that, Lamita stood and turned in all directions, nervous to be the center of attention so unexpectedly. “I’m sorry that I’m unable to say anything about the matter,” she responded after the chairman nodded to her. “No references to the hair carpets have yet been found in the Archive. That doesn’t mean that they do not exist. The organizational system is still something of a mystery. And the Archive encompasses the entire Imperial Age, and so, of course, it is enormous.…”
“Lamita, you are relieved of all other responsibilities,” the chairman interrupted. “For the time being, concern yourself with nothing but this matter.”
Thanks a lot, Lamita thought with annoyance as she took her seat again. Alone. Just me and the Archive. He should have given me a staff.
“Our deliberations,” the old councilor quickly continued, “should be concerned with the present and the future. The inhabitants of Gheera must be educated, faith in the Emperor must be eliminated, and a new political order must be established. I could imagine a successful transformation of Gheera into an independent federation by using the model of the provinces of Baquion and Tempesh-Kutaraan.”
Lamita barely paid attention to the subsequent political discussion. The politics of the day didn’t interest her. What captivated her were historical events and developments and the millennia that preceded them. In her thoughts, she was searching through the Archive again and trying for the thousandth time to unlock the secret of its organization, but she came up with nothing new. She was relieved when the meeting finally closed.
Borlid caught up with her before she was able to get out of the hall.
“Lamita, I have to speak with you a moment.”
She folded her arms, holding her files like a shield in front of her chest. “Yes?”
“You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. I want to know why.”
“Have I?”
“Yes. I ask if you want to have dinner with me, and you just…”
She sighed. “Borlid, let’s not pretend. You want more from me than eating dinner together. And I am just not interested. So it would be unfair to accept your invitation. And stressful.”
“No chance?”
“No.” She sensed his injured male pride … terrible!
“So there’s another man in your life?”
“And even if that were the case, Borlid—it’s my life, and it’s none of your business.”
* * *
She lay on her back, staring at the painted ceiling over her bed. The wind chime hanging in the open balcony doorway turned gently in the night breeze, and delicate, wistful tones rang out. In the light of the moons, its shadows fell onto the bedcover; other than that, it was dark in the room.
“I turned down one of the most attractive men in the palace,” she said loudly. “And now I’m lying alone in my bed and don’t know what I want.”
A gentle laugh came from seventeen thousand light-years away.
“Since you rejected him, he apparently wasn’t attractive enough, Lamita.”
“Yes, exactly. I find him childish and shallow.”
“But you just said, he’s one of the most attractive men—”
“Well, yes. Many women find him appealing.”
That laugh again. “It seems to me, dear sister, that you still think the important thing is to become like everybody else. In reality, the important thing is to become different from the others, to discover your uniqueness. You’re a rebel by birth, but that doesn’t mean much. Your own rebellion is still ahead of you.”
Lamita wrinkled her nose while she tried to understand what these comments were supposed to mean. Her older sister loved to spout cryptic maxims and then leave it to her conversation partner to make sense of them—or not.
“Sarna, what’s wrong with me? Why am I alone?” Lamita pouted.
“What’s your problem with being alone?
“It’s boring. Unsatisfying.”
“Worrying?” Sarna dug deeper.
“That, too,” Lamita had to admit reluctantly.
“How long has it been since you were with a man?”
“Long. It was so long ago, I can hardly remember it. And besides, it was awful. I felt like a nanny caring for a child.”
“But because it was so long ago,” her sister surmised, “you’ve had time to forget it. So that can’t be the problem. Lamita, which one of the men around you do you find exciting, fascinating?
“None of them,” Lamita shot back.
“Think it over carefully.”
Lamita hastily reviewed all the young men who were somewhat tolerable and with whom she had contact. All of them boring. “There’s not much to think over. Really, there’s nobody.”
“I don’t buy that. Based on my experience with the effects of our hormones”—Lamita had to admit that her sister’s experience in this area was extensive, and was, in fact, the reason she had called her up—“I think that’s impossible. I’m convinced there’s somebody. There’s a man there who fascinates you and whose presence makes you moist between your legs. You just won’t admit it to yourself. Maybe he’s married, or he’s ugly, or there’s some other reason—but somehow you’ve blocked him out of your consciousness. But he’s there. And that’s why none of the others interest you.” Pause. “Well, does that bring anybody to mind?”
Absent-mindedly, Lamita brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. Yes, there was something. She sensed a place in her mind, where there was resistance, a blind spot, a self-made barrier. If she could just put aside all her taboos for a moment, then … No. That was out of the question. What would they say about her, if she …
What would the others say? There it was! It was an astonishing thought for someone who considered herself a rebel, wasn’t it? She almost became angry at herself, but she was still proud of catching herself at her own tricks.
“Actually, there is a man…,” she began reluctantly.
“I told you so,” Sarna said with great satisfaction.
“But it’s still impossible. Not with him.”
“Why not?” her sister pried gleefully.
“He is much older than I am.”
“It must be a family trait.
After all, our father wasn’t exactly a boy when he met our mother.”
“And he’s an incurable devotee of the Emperor.”
“That will guarantee some lively discussions,” Sarna commented with amusement. “Anything else?”
Lamita mulled it over. “No,” she finally sighed. “But now I really don’t know what I should do.”
“You don’t?” her sister was amused. “I’ll bet you know exactly.”
* * *
This state of mind was not new to her—this absolute decisiveness, this determination to act, to be courageous, and not to allow obstacles to dissuade her. She also knew that it was important to take advantage of this decisiveness while it lasted.
She couldn’t even think about sleep. She dressed quickly and phoned the Imperial Archive. After a brief time, the archivist answered.
“Would you object if I come to the Archive this evening?” she asked.
He raised one eyebrow. “You’re the representative of the Council. You may come and go whenever you want.”
“Yes,” Lamita said nervously. “I just wanted to inform you. I’ll be there soon.”
The door to the Archive stood open when she arrived. At a loss, Lamita stood for a while in the brightly lit entry hall and looked around. Everything was empty and deserted; there was no one to be seen. Lights also burned in the great domed hall. Lamita entered the main reading room and placed her portfolio on the oval table where the Emperor himself used to sit. The echo of every sound seemed amplified, which only increased the sensation that she was alone.
She walked into one of the radiating aisles and took an old folio volume from a shelf. When she returned with it to the table, she spotted the archivist. As always, he stood in the half-shadow of the columns at the entrance to the reading room, cautious and stock-still.
Lamita lay the thick tome slowly on the table. “I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she spoke into the stillness.
“No,” said Emparak.
She hesitated. “Where do you actually live?”
If he was surprised by the question, he didn’t let it show. “I have a small apartment on the first lower level.”
His voice sounded cold. She knew that he had known and worked with the Emperor, and whenever she had had business with the archivist in the past, it had not escaped her, that his attitude toward her and, in general, toward everyone who had anything to do with the Rebellion was antagonistic. He was a short man—hardly taller than she was—with thick, silver-gray hair and a slightly misshapen spine, which forced him to assume a bent posture. Nevertheless, he was an impressive, dignified figure who radiated composure and maturity.
“It must be an odd feeling,” she said thoughtfully, “to live here in the midst of tens of thousands of years of momentous history.…”
She noticed that Emparak started at these words, and when she looked into his eyes, she saw that he had been taken by surprise.
“When the Empire ended, I was still a child only five or six years old,” she continued, and for the first time, she had the feeling that he was actually listening to her. “I grew up in a world in transition. I saw things disintegrating all around me, and I began to wonder how things had been in the past. That was probably why I studied history. And during my entire academic training, it was my dream to be here one day in the Imperial Archive. Excavations, experimentation, field research—none of that attracted me. Out there were only questions—but here, I was convinced, were the answers. And I wasn’t interested in looking for questions; I wanted to know the answers.” She looked at him. “And now, here I am.”
He had moved a step forward out of the shadow, probably without being aware of it. He searched her face as though he were seeing her for the first time, and Lamita waited patiently.
“Why are you telling me this?” he finally asked. His question sounded pained.
Lamita walked cautiously toward him. She inhaled deeply and slowly and tried to feel the determination that had animated her earlier. “I came to figure out what is going on between us,” she said softly.
“Between … us?”
“Between you, Emparak, and me—there is something. A resonance. A connection. An electrical field. I feel it, and I’m sure you feel it, too.” She was standing directly in front of him, and the feeling was powerful. “I noticed you immediately, Emparak, when I saw you standing here by the columns for the first time. I didn’t admit it to myself until now, but your presence arouses desire in me, an intense desire I have never felt before. I’ve come to find out why.”
His breath came in gasps, and his eyes darted around the floor and walls, only daring to settle on her for brief seconds at a time.
“I beg you, don’t play with me.”
“I’m not playing, Emparak.”
“You are … an exceptionally beautiful woman, Lamita. You can have any man you want. Why would you want to have anything to do with a cripple like me?”
Lamita suddenly felt his anguish as if it were her own. It was a feeling that seemed to come from the region of her heart. “I don’t see you as a cripple. I see that you have a misshapen back, but why is that important?”
“I am a cripple,” he insisted. “And an old man.”
“But a man.”
He said nothing. With his back to her, he stared at the marble floor.
“I came to find out what you feel, Emparak,” Lamita finally said quietly. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea. “If you prefer, I’ll leave.”
He mumbled something she did not understand.
She reached out her hand and touched his upper arm. “Do you want me to go?” she asked nervously.
His head turned to her. “No, don’t go.” He still didn’t know where he should direct his gaze, but his hand had suddenly reached for hers and clung to it, and his words suddenly gushed out. “I’m an old fool … I really am … I didn’t expect ever again in my life … and a woman like you! I have no idea what to do now.”
Lamita had to smile. “I bet you know exactly,” she said.
She had expected that she would have to battle against a mountain of insecurities built up in him over a lifetime, and she was prepared to do it. But when Emparak took her in his arms and kissed her, it was with a sensitive self-assuredness that surprised her beyond measure. She virtually melted in his embrace. It was as though her body had always been waiting for the touch of this man.
“May I show you where I live?” he finally asked after what seemed to her like hours.
She gave him a dreamy nod. “Yes,” she sighed. “Please.”
* * *
“I still can’t believe it,” Emparak said into the darkness. “And I’m not sure I’ll ever believe it.”
“Don’t worry,” Lamita purred sleepily. “I can hardly believe it either.”
“Have you had many men?” he asked, and in an almost amusing way, the question sounded jealous.
“Not as many as most people suppose.” She smiled. “But enough to know that I am bored by men for whom the most important era of history began with their own birth.” She turned over and pressed herself against his chest. “Luckily your experience in this regard seems to far surpass my poor abilities. I bet you have not always lived such a monastic life as your apartment suggests.”
Emparak smiled; she could hear it in the sound of his voice. “In the past, my position was influential and that had its rewards. I was discreet, but I think everyone knew that I pursued all the women in the palace.… Then came the revolution, and you rebels humbled me severely, showed me your might, and let me know that I had been on the wrong side, the losing side. You stored me away just in case you might need me again someday, but I became nothing more than an old janitor. So since then, I have completely withdrawn.”
“I noticed that,” Lamita murmured. Something inside her warned that she was heading toward dangerous ground, but she decided she was still prepared for the risk. “I think you are still devoted to the Emperor.”
She felt him s
uddenly pull back.
“And what would that mean to you?” There was unyielding pride in his response. Defiance, but also fear. More than a little fear.
“Just as long as you are devoted to me, too, it’s all right,” she said softly. A good answer. She felt him relax. In spite of his fear, he would not have been willing to deny his beliefs, not even for her sake. That impressed her.
“Actually I was never a devotee of the Emperor in the usual sense,” he said thoughtfully. “The people who venerated and worshipped him didn’t know him; they only knew the image they had created of him. But I knew him, face-to-face.” He was silent for a moment, and Lamita could virtually feel the memories awakening inside him. “His presence was even more overwhelming than all the legends his priests were able to concoct. He was an unimaginably charismatic personality. You rebels try to get off too easy with your simple view of him. He was beyond the scale of human measurement; the measures for assessing natural phenomena would be more appropriate. Don’t forget, he was immortal, nearly a hundred thousand years old—no one comprehends the meaning of that. No, I’m no blind worshipper—I’m a scholar. I try to understand, and I despise cheap, quick, ready-made answers.”
Lamita had sat up and turned on the light next to the bed. She looked at Emparak as though she were seeing him for the first time, and in some sense that was true. The scowling, venomous old man had disappeared. The man lying next to her was alert and lively and was turning out to be a closer kindred spirit than anyone else she knew.
“That’s exactly the way I feel,” she said, and she suddenly felt like seducing him a second time on the spot.
But Emparak threw the blanket aside, stood up, and began to get dressed. “Come with me,” he said. “I want to show you something.”
* * *
“The Archive is as old as the Empire, and over the course of time, there have been far more than a thousand changes in the organizational systems. That’s the reason the current system is so complicated. For someone who doesn’t know that, it’s utterly impossible to comprehend.” Emparak’s voice echoed back from the low, dark, side aisles, as they descended from one level to another farther down into the mysterious depths of the Archive. Down here, there was dim illumination only in the main hallways, and all the things that were hidden in the shadows cast by the cabinets, cases, and baffling bits of plunder were left to the imagination. At some point, Lamita had grabbed the archivist’s hand and didn’t let go.
The Carpet Makers Page 24
