The Care and Feeding of Ravenously Hungry Girls

by Anissa Gray

  “I’ll think of something else,” said Rasa. “Some other way of handling marriages ...”

  “But you won’t,” said Elemak. “You’ll think and think, and in the end you’ll come to the only conclusion. If this insane colony is to succeed, it must succeed in the desert and by desert law. That means that women will be faithful to their men, or they will die.”

  “And men, if they’re unfaithful,” said Rasa, sure that he couldn’t possibly mean that only women would be punished.

  “Oh, I see. If two people break this marriage law, you want them both to die, is that it? Who’s the bloodthirsty one now? We can spare a woman more easily than a man. Unless you propose that I train Kokor and Sevet to fight. Unless you think Dol and Shedemei can really handle lifting the tents onto the camels’ backs.”

  “So in your man-ruled world the woman bears the brunt of ...”

  “We’re not in Basilica now, Lady Rasa. Women thrive where civilization is strong. Not here. No, if you think about it, you’ll see that punishing the woman alone is the surer way to keep the law. Because which man can whisper, ‘I love you,’ when they both know that what he really means is, ‘I want to tup you so badly that I don’t care if you die.’ How much success will his seduction have then? And if he tries to force his way, she’ll scream—because she’ll know that it’s her life at stake. And if he’s taken for raping her, as she screams, why, then it is the man who dies. You see? It takes so much of the romance out of flirting.”

  Elemak almost laughed aloud at the stricken look on Rasa’s face when he turned and left her tent. Oh, yes, she still fancied herself a leader, even out here in the desert where she knew less than nothing about survival, where she was a constant danger to everyone, with her chat, with her supposed wisdom that she was always so willing to share, with her air of command. She could bring off the illusion of power in Basilica, where women had men so fenced around with custom and manners that she could make decisions and people would comply. But here she would soon find—was already finding—that she lacked the true will to power. She wanted to rule, but didn’t want to do the hard things that rule required.

  Permanent marriage indeed. What woman could possibly satisfy a man of any strength for more than a year or two? He had never intended Eiadh to be anything more than a first wife. She would have been a great success at that role—she’d adorn him in his first Basilican household, bear him his firstborn, and then they’d both move on. Elemak even planned that Rasa herself would be his children’s teacher—she did a fine job of schooling youngsters; Elemak knew what her true value was. But now to think that he would be willing to endure having Eiadh clinging to him when she was fat and old ...

  Except that in his heart he knew that he was lying to himself. He could pretend that he didn’t want Eiadh forever, but in fact the only thing he felt for her was desire. A powerful, possessive desire that showed no signs of slackening. It was Eiadh, not Elemak, who was changeable. She was the one who had so admired Nafai when he stood against Moozh and refused the warlord’s offer of the consulship. So pathetic, that she would admire Nyef more for refusing power than she admired her own new husband for having and using it. But Eiadh was a woman, after all, and had been raised with the same mystical dependence on the Oversoul, and since the Oversoul had so clearly “chosen” Nafai, it made him all the more attractive in her eyes.

  As for Nafai … Elemak had known for many months that Nafai had his eye on Eiadh. That was part of what had made Eiadh so attractive to Elemak from the start—that marrying her would put his snotty little brother in his place. Let him marry her later, when she had already had Elemak’s first child or two. That would let Nafai know where he stood. But now Eiadh was casting an eye toward the boy—damn him for being the one who killed Gaballufix! That’s what was seducing her! She loved the delusion that Nafai was strong. Well, Eiadh, my darling, Edhya my pet, I have killed before, and not a drunkard lying in the street, either. I killed a bandit who was charging my caravan, bent on murder and robbery. And I can kill again.

  I can kill again, and Rasa has already consented to the justification. The law of the desert, yes, that is what will bring Nafai’s interference to an end. Rasa is so sure that her dear sweet youngest boy would never break the law that she’ll agree—they’ll all agree—that the penalty for disobedience is death. And then Nafai will disobey. It will be so simple, so symmetrical, and I can then kill him on exactly the same pretext Nyef himself used for killing Gabya—I’m doing it for the good of all!

  That night, when the cold supper was heavy in their bellies, when the chill night breeze had driven them all inside their tents, Elemak set Nafai to keep the first watch. He knew that Nafai, poor fellow, was keenly aware of who was waiting for Elemak inside his tent. He knew that Nafai was sitting there in the cold starlight imagining how Elya gathered Eiadh’s naked body into his arms, how hot and humid they made their tent. He knew that Nafai heard, or imagined that he heard, the soft low cries that Eiadh made. And when Elemak emerged from his tent, the sweat and smell of love still on him, he knew that Nafai could taste the bitterness of going to his own tent, where the awkward shapeless body of Luet the waterseer was the only solace the poor boy would find. It was almost tempting to take Rasa’s law and make it real, for then it would be Nafai who would grow old watching Eiadh always and knowing that she was Elemak’s, and he could never, never, never have her for his own.

  TWO

  BINDING AND UNBINDING

  Nafai stood his watch as he always did, by conversing with the Oversoul. It was easier now than it had been at first, back when he and Issib had practically forced the Oversoul to talk to them. Now he would form thoughts carefully in his mind, almost as if he were speaking them, and then, almost without trying, he could feel the Oversoul’s answers come to him. They came as if they were Nafai’s own thoughts, of course, so that at times he still had trouble distinguishing between the Oversoul’s actual ideas and the ideas that came from his own mind; to be sure, he often asked the same question again, and the Oversoul, since it was a computer and therefore never felt a sense of hurry, willingly repeated as often as he liked.

  Tonight, because he was on watch, he first asked the Oversoul if any danger was near.

  〈A coyote, tracking the scent of a hare.〉

  No, I meant danger to us, said Nafai silently.

  〈The same bandits I told you about before. But they keep hearing noises in the night, and now they’re hiding in a cave, trembling.〉

  You enjoy doing this to them, don’t you? asked Nafai.

  〈No, but I sense your delight. This is what you call a game, isn’t it?〉

  More like what we call a trick. Or a joke.

  〈And you love the fact that only you know that I am doing this.〉

  Luet knows.

  〈Of course.〉

  Any other danger?

  〈Elemak is plotting your death.〉

  What, a knife in the back?

  〈He is full of confidence. He believes he can do it openly, with the consent of all. Even your mother.〉

  And how will he do it? Blast me with his pulse and pretend it’s an accident? Can he frighten my camel into throwing me from a cliff?

  〈His plan is more subtle than that. It has to do with marriage laws. Rasa and Shedemei realized today that marriages must be made permanent, and Rasa has now persuaded Elemak.〉

  Good. That will work much better than if the idea had come from Luet and me.

  〈But it did come from you and Luet.〉

  But only we and you are aware of that, and no one else will guess. They’ll see the sensibleness of the law. And besides, I had to do something to stop Eiadh from trying to start something with me. I find it disgusting that it’s only since I killed Gaballufix and refused to be Moozh’s puppet that she finds me interesting. I think I was much nicer before … before all this started.

  〈You were a boy then.〉

  I’m still a boy.

  〈I know. That�
��s one of our problems. Worse yet, you’re a boy who’s not very good at deception, Nafai.〉

  But you’re a whiz at it.

  〈You can’t lead these people by relying on me to plant your ideas in their minds. On the voyage from Harmony to Earth, I won’t have the same power to reach into their minds that I have here. You will have to learn how to speak with them directly. Teach them to look to you for decisions.〉

  Elya and Meb will never be willing to accept my lead.

  〈Then they are expendable.〉

  Like Gaballufix? I’ll never do that again, Oversoul. You can be sure of that—I killed once for you, but never again, never, never, don’t even make me think of it, no!

  〈I hear you. I understand you.〉

  No, you don’t understand. You never felt the blood on your hands. You never felt the sword cut through the flesh and hack apart the cartilage between the vertebrae. You never heard his last gasping breaths through the bloody gap in his throat.

  〈Through your eyes I saw, through your arms I felt, through your ears I heard.〉

  You never felt the … that terrible irrevocability. That there’s no turning back. That he’s gone, and no matter how terrible a man he was, I had no right to cut him off like that ...

  〈You had the right because I gave it to you, and I had the right because humankind built me in order to protect the entire species, and the death of that man was necessary for the preservation of humanity on this world.〉

  Yes, I know, again and again you tell me.

  〈Again and again you reject the truth and insist on remaining in this meaningless agony of guilt.〉

  I ended the life of a helpless drunken man. There was no glory in that act. There was no decency. There was no cleverness or wisdom. I was not a good man when I did that.

  〈You were my hands, Nafai. What I needed to do, you did for me.〉

  They were my own hands, Oversoul. I could have said no. As I say no now, when you hint of my killing Elemak and Mebbekew. It will not happen. I will take no more lives for you.

  〈I’ll keep that in mind as I make my plans for the future. But you can establish leadership. You must. Your father is too old and tired, and he relies on Elemak too much. He’ll give in to your brother far too often, again and again he’ll surrender to him, until he has no will left at all.〉

  So it’s better that he surrenders to me?

  〈You won’t make him surrender anything. You’ll always lead through him, with great respect for him. If you lead, your father will remain a proud and powerful man. I’ve told you this. Now stand up and take your place.〉

  Not yet. This is not the time for me to challenge Elemak. We need him to lead us through the desert.

  〈And I tell you that he has no such qualms. At this very moment, even though he’s making love to Eiadh, he is picturing you tied up and abandoned in the desert, where you’ll soon discover, Nafai, that while I can influence bandits I can’t do a thing about the beasts and birds of prey, the insects that think of anything that doesn’t walk or fly or slither away as their next meal. They don’t listen to me, they simply act out what their genes require them to do, and you will die, and what will I do then without you?〉

  Does he mean to act now, before we get to Father’s camp?

  〈At last you’re listening.〉

  What is his plan, then?

  〈I don’t know. He never thinks of it plainly. I’m searching as best I can, but it’s hard. I can’t just ransack a human’s memories, you know. He fears his own murderous heart so much that he won’t let himself think of his whole plan openly.〉

  Perhaps when he’s not distracted by lovemaking.

  〈Distracted? He’s even doing this for your benefit. He thinks that you still want Eiadh, so he’s hoping you notice the movement in the tent, and the noises she’s making.〉

  It only makes me long for my watch to end, so I can go back to Luet.

  〈He can’t conceive of a man not desiring the woman he desires.〉

  I did. I fancied that Eiadh was exactly what I needed and wanted. But I understood nothing then. Luet believes she’s already pregnant. Luet and I can talk about everything. We’ve only been married for a few days, yet she understands my heart even better than you do, and I can speak her thoughts almost before she thinks them. Does Elemak imagine that I could desire a mere woman, when Luet is my wife?

  〈He knows that Eiadh is attracted to you. He remembers that you were once attracted to her. He also knows that I have chosen you to lead. He’s mad with jealousy. He hungers for your death. It consumes him so that even the act of making love to her is a kind of murder in his heart.〉

  Don’t you realize that this is the most terrible thing of all? If there’s anything I want in my life, it’s for Elemak to love me and respect me. What did I do, to turn him away?

  〈You refused to let him own your will.〉

  Love and respect have nothing to do with controlling what other people do.

  〈To Elemak, if he doesn’t control you, you either don’t exist or you’re his enemy. For many years you didn’t exist. Then he noticed you, and you weren’t as easy to manipulate or intimidate as Mebbekew, and so you became a rival.〉

  Is it really that simple?

  〈I glossed over the hard parts.〉

  His tent isn’t bouncing. Does that mean he’s coming out soon?

  〈He’s getting dressed. He’s thinking of you. So is Eiadh.〉

  At least she doesn’t want to kill me.

  〈If she ever got what she’s wishing for, it would end the same, with you dead.〉

  Don’t tell Luet that Elemak is planning to kill me.

  〈I’ll tell Luet everything, exactly as I tell you. I don’t lie to the humans who serve my cause.〉

  You lie to us whenever you think it’s necessary. And I don’t want you to lie to her, anyway—I just don’t want her to worry.

  〈I do want her to worry, since you refuse to. I think sometimes you want to die.〉

  You can relieve your mind on that score. I like being alive and intend to continue.

  〈I think sometimes you look forward to death, because you think that you deserve to die for having killed Gaballufix.〉

  Here he comes.

  〈Notice how he makes sure you smell his hands.〉

  Nafai didn’t appreciate the Oversoul’s calling attention to that—he might not have noticed, otherwise. But, truth to tell, that was unlikely, because Elemak made a point of putting both hands on his shoulders, and even of brushing his fingers across Nafai’s cheek as he said, “So you did stay awake. Maybe you’ll amount to something in the desert after all.”

  “You didn’t leave me on watch all that long,” Nafai answered.

  The womanly smell was plain enough. It was vaguely disgusting that Elemak would use his intimacy with his own wife this way. It was as if she had become nothing to him. A tool. Not a wife at all, but just a thing that he owned.

  But if the Oversoul was right, then that was how Elemak experienced love—as ownership.

  “Did you see anything?” asked Elemak.

  “Darkness,” said Nafai. He did not tell Elemak about the bandits only a few hundred meters away. First, it would only make him furious that Nafai was getting information from the Oversoul. And second, it would humiliate him that he chose as his campsite a place where bandits could conceal themselves so close. He would probably insist on searching for them, which would mean battle and bloodshed, or waking everybody up and moving on, which would be pointless, since the Oversoul was having no trouble keeping this spineless group of cutpurses under control.

  “If you ever looked up, you’d notice there are stars,” said Elemak.

  Elemak was baiting him, of course, and Nafai knew that he should just ignore him, but he was filled with anger already, knowing that Elemak was plotting to kill him and yet still pretended to be his brother, knowing that Elemak had just made love to his wife in order to try to make Nafai suffer from jealousy
. So Nafai could not contain himself. He flung a hand upward. “And that one is Sol, the Sun. Barely visible, but you can always find it if you know where to look. That’s where we’re going.”

  “Are we?” asked Elemak.

  “It’s the only reason the Oversoul brought us out of Basilica,” said Nafai.

  “Maybe the Oversoul won’t necessarily get his way,” said Elemak. “He’s just a computer, after all—you said so yourself.”

  Nafai almost answered again, some snide comment to the effect that if the Oversoul was “just” a computer then Elemak himself was “just” a hairless baboon. Six months ago Nafai would have said it, and Elemak would have thrown him against a wall or knocked him down with a blow. But Nafai had learned a little since then, and so he held his tongue.

  Luet was waiting for him in the tent. She had probably been dozing—she had worked hard since they started laying camp, and unlike the lazy ones she would be up early again in the morning. But she greeted him wordlessly with open eyes and a smile that warmed him in spite of the chill that Elemak had put in his heart.

  Nafai undressed quickly and gathered her to him under the blankets. “You’re warm,” he said.

  “I think the technical term is hot,” she answered.

  “Elemak is planning to kill me,” he whispered.

  “I wish the Oversoul would just stop him,” she whispered.

  “I don’t think it can. I think Elemak’s will is too strong for the Oversoul to make him change his mind once he’s set on doing something.” He didn’t tell her that the Oversoul had hinted that somewhere along the line Nafai might have to kill his brother. Since Nafai had no intention of ever doing it, there was no reason to put the idea in Luet’s mind. He would be ashamed to say it anyway, for fear she would then think he might consider such a thing.

  “Hushidh thinks she senses Elemak bonding more closely with the ones who want to turn back—Kokor and Sevet, Vas and Obring, Meb and Dol. They’re forming a sort of community now, and separating almost completely from the rest of us.”