“As for you, Nam, you will stay in this house until your child is born. You have a cousin who is pregnant now. We will say that she had twins. I am not comfortable with this, since I will be deceiving the lineage that provided semen for your cousin. But we do what we have to do; and I hope you are ashamed at the lies you are forcing your relatives to tell.”
Kla looked at the girl. She did not show any evidence of shame.
“After the child is born – “ the grandmother said. “I will give you two choices. Either you can stay here and study art on the world information net, or you can leave and go into the shadows. If you stay here, we will watch you for further signs of misbehavior. We cannot trust you, Nam. You have initiative, a strong will, no self-control and no sense of family obligation. This is a dangerous combination.”
“I will go,” Nam said.
The grandmother exhaled. “If you want to live in the shadows in the capital, fine! But don’t tell anyone your family name.”
“I won’t,” the girl said. “I despise all of you and this town.”
“Why?” asked Kla, surprised.
“Look at you,” the girl said. “In your silly cape, pretending to be a human.”
“What harm does it do?” Kla asked.
“And you,” the girl stared at Kla’s grandmother. “Pretending that none of this happened, because you are afraid of gossip.”
“Gossip can cause great harm,” the old lady said.
“The world is changing,” Nam said. “There are aliens in the sky! But your lives remain the same, full of fear and pretense.”
“There are no aliens in the sky,” Kla’s grandmother said firmly. “The humans remain a long distance from our home system.” She paused for a moment. “I hope your child has your gift for art, without your difficult personality. This has been an unpleasant conversation. I’m tired now. I want to take a nap. Everyone go.”
“You stay in the house,” Serit said to Nam. “We don’t want anyone outside the family to know you are alive.”
The girl made the gesture of assent, though she looked sullen.
Kla left the house with the soldiers. “Thank you,” the spotted soldier said before they parted. “You said that our suicides would cause talk. For this reason, Perin and I will remain alive.”
“Behave better in the future,” Kla said.
The man showed his teeth in a brief smile. “We will have no chance to behave badly in a war zone.” He glanced around at the mountains. “I will miss this country. But space may be safer.”
The two men took off, walking rapidly. They kept well apart, as people do who have quarreled.
Kla went back to her apartment. It was late afternoon by now, and the sun was behind the mountains, though the light still touched the high peaks, streaked with a little snow. The fjord was still and gray.
Doctor Mel was in the main room, drinking tea. Kla sat down and told the story. Even though Mel belonged to another lineage, she was a doctor and knew how to keep secrets.
At the end, Mel said, “You have solved your mystery.”
“It’s an ugly story,” Kla said. “I wish I still believed the girl had drowned.”
“That is wrong,” Mel said firmly. “Her life may be hard, but she still has a future. The dead have nothing.” She refilled her cup and poured tea for Kla. “Most likely, she will give up her unnatural interest in men. If she does not – well, there are people in the shadows who know about contraceptives.”
“There are?” Kla asked.
Mel grinned briefly. “You know more about crime in the ancient human city of London than you know about bad behavior here. Of course there are hwarhathwho behave in ways we do not find acceptable; and of course these folk learn to deal with the consequences of their behavior. Doctors know this, though we rarely talk about it.”
“In the stories I have translated, the solution to the puzzle is satisfying. The ending seems neat and finished, though – of course – I don’t understand everything. Humans are alien, after all. I can translate their words, but not their minds. This ending does not satisfy,” Kla said.
“How could it? Most likely the young men will be fine, once they are in a military unit with officers to watch them; and most likely the child will be fine, born in your grandmother’s house and raised by members of your family. But the girl is an unsolved problem. Maybe she will decide to stay here and study photography. Her work is full of possibility.”
“I don’t believe she’ll stay. She is angry, though I don’t know why. Maybe it is shame. She said our lives are full of fear and pretense.”
“We live with rules and obligations,” Doctor Mel said. “Most of us fear what will happen if we break the rules; and we may – as in this case – pretend that a rule has not been broken, rather than deal with the idea of broken rules. Is this wrong? I don’t think so. I would not like to live in chaos, without the net of kinship that holds us all, and without front-and-back relations. The girl may want more honesty. However, most of us want a comfortable life.”
Mel paused, obviously thinking. “The girl is right about one thing. Our universe is changing in ways that people could not have imagined a century ago. Look at your job, translating human literature. It did not exist in the past. Now, through your work, we learn about Holmes Sherlock and the shadows of London, also that irritating woman who lived in her own shadow.”
“Bovary Emma. That translation will never be released. It is too disturbing.”
Mel smiled briefly. “See how we protect ourselves!”
“Rightly!”
Mel gave Kla a look of affectionate amusement, then continued her line of thought, like a sulfollowing a scent. “There have always been people who feel constrained by our rules. Most stay in their families and are unhappy. Others leave, going into the shadows. Some are criminals. Others are outcasts or eccentrics. Doctors know about them, because we must watch everyone – even people who are difficult – for signs of illness. Public health requires that we treat everyone, even those we don’t approve of.
“Is it possible to be happy in shadows? I think so. Holmes Sherlock was happy, though he lived outside a family and made his own rules, and so was Watson John, who was odd enough to enjoy living with Holmes Sherlock. The irritating woman – remind me of her name.”
“Bovary Emma.”
Doctor Mel tilted her head in thanks. “Was unhappy, but she does not sound – from your description – like a person able to live a difficult life. Or even an ordinary life.”
“These are humans, and they are imaginary!”
“We can still learn from them. We can always learn from other people.”
“Are you saying the girl might be happy, even among outcasts?” Kla asked.
“Happier than in her – your – family. I will give you a name. Please give it to Nam before she leaves home. It’s a doctor in the capital city, a good woman who treats people in the shadows and collects art. She can help Nam get settled. If she likes Nam’s work, she can find a dealer-in-art. A good photographer should not be wasted.”
Kla looked at Mel with speculation. This woman she loved, who lived in a small town and treated the injuries of fishers, knew more about people than she did, although she had lived in the capital city and had been translating human novels for years. People were more difficult to understand than she had believed, even the people she loved. But Mel was right. A good photographer should not be wasted. Maybe this situation would work out. Best of all, the disturbing girl would be gone from Kla’s life.
Doctor Mel got up and limped to the room’s window. After a moment, Kla joined her. The street lamps were on, and lights shone on the fishing boats anchored by the docks. High up on the mountain, a gleam showed that the soldiers were home.
THE END
Eleanor Arnasonfell in love with science fiction in the 1950s, while living in Design House # 2 behind the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis. Growing up in a cutting-edge house-of-the-future may have influenced her. Th
e early TV show Captain Video certainly did. She published her first story in 1973, while living in Detroit. This was the old Detroit, full of car plants and working people. She moved back to the Twin Cities in 1974, but Detroit – the old Detroit — remains an influence. It was the toughest and most dynamic and interesting place she has ever lived.
Since 1973, she has published six novels, two chapbooks and 30 + short stories. Her fourth novel, A Woman of the Iron People, won the James Tiptree Jr. Award and the Mythopoeic Society Award. Her fifth novel, Ring of Swords, won a Minnesota Book Award. Her short story “Dapple” won the Spectrum Award. Other short stories have been finalists for the Hugo, Nebula, Sturgeon, Kindred, Sidewise and World Fantasy Awards. Eleanor would really like to win one of these.
“Holmes Sherlock” is one of many stories about the hwarhath, a humanoid species that first appeared in Ring of Swords.
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Holmes Sherlock: A Hwarhath Mystery h-13 Page 3
