by Allen Steele
“Umm…ah, yes, thank you, First Speaker, and…uh, other members of the High Council.” He hesitated, praying that he hadn’t committed a faux pas. He had to assume that his words were being translated by some hidden device within the room; otherwise, everything he said would be nothing but babble. The hjadd continued to regard him with expectant eyes, and Manny gave him a small nod of encouragement. “I have come here today…that is, we have, Inez and I…to request the permission of the Council to take an expedition to Earth, in order to find a member of our race whom we believe to be there. This person is…”
“My father, Hawk Thompson, the chaaz’maha of humankind.” Inez took a step forward, addressing both Taf and the aliens around them. “We’ve lately received news indicating that, contrary to our previous belief, he is still alive and somewhere on Earth. Jorge and I belong to his family, and we therefore request permission to return to our homeworld in order to find him and bring him back to Coyote.”
At first, Jorge was annoyed by the interruption, until he realized that Inez was far better suited to address the Council than he was. There was no reticence in her manner or voice; when she spoke, it was with utter self-confidence, almost as if she’d been practicing for this moment. And perhaps she had, if only in her imagination. After all, Manny had warned her that the Council would be more interested in her than Jorge; she’d waited until her second cousin had broken the ice, then come forth to take the lead.
“This is quite interesting indeed.” Taf’s right eye twitched toward her as hisher hands folded together within the bell sleeves of hisher toga. “I met your father, if only very briefly, when I made a gift of a Sa’Tong-tas to him.”
“I am aware of this, First Speaker…and on behalf of the members of my race who’ve embraced its wisdom, I thank you.” Clasping her hands together, Inez bowed again, holding it for a little longer this time. “I never knew the chaaz’maha myself. I was only a few days old when he was presumed to have been killed. For this, I envy you.”
The hjadd’s fin rose a little higher, and heshe uttered a stuttering hiss that Jorge thought might be a sign of irritation. “You honor me, daughter of a chaaz’maha. Yet I’m still confused why neither myself, in my former role as an emissary to your race, nor this Council as a whole, as fellow disciples of Sa’Tong, was ever informed that the chaaz’maha of your race had a child. Why was this knowledge kept from us until now?”
This time, it was Manny who answered the question. “As you and the Council doubtless recall, our chaaz’maha was aboard a starship that was destroyed by a bomb while en route to Earth. Although the person who set off the bomb was also aboard the same vessel, for a long time it was unknown whether he acted alone. The chaaz’maha’s family…that is, his partner and a few of his relatives and friends…decided that, in order to keep his daughter safe from any other enemies, her existence should be kept a closely guarded secret.”
“I…” Jorge nervously cleared his throat. “Pardon me. I wasn’t aware that Inez was a relative…that is, my second cousin…until only a few days ago. Until then, she was only a friend who happened to be serving with me in our Corps of…”
“I understand now,” Taf said, cutting him off. “Thank you, Jorge Montero and Manuel Castro, for your explanations.” Heshe seemed to disregard both him and Manny as heshe returned hisher attention to Inez. “However, this raises another question. I respect the fact that the human chaaz’maha is your father and that you wish to find him…and yet your companions admit that he was parted from you by a violent deed performed by a member of your own race. Indeed, it was for this very reason that the Council has forbidden the inhabitants of Coyote from having further contact with Earth. Therefore, why should we allow you to visit your homeworld, when there is precedent to suggest that such contact may present a hazard not only to your own kind but also the other races of the galaxy?”
Inez was ready with an answer. “Because the other races of the galaxy…those who have adopted Sa’Tong as their spiritual philosophy, that is…each have their own chaaz’maha. Ours was taken from us. We thought he was dead, but now that it turns out he’s alive, it’s important for us to find him.” She paused, then added, “Besides, he’s also my father. I wish to meet him. That’s why I volunteered for this expedition.”
Taf’s head rose slightly upon hisher neck. “Neither is a sufficient reason. Other races have lost their chaaz’maha, some quite long ago, and have continued their practice of Sa’Tong despite the absence of a teacher. By much the same token, while I respect your desire to be reunited with your father, bear in mind that many races don’t put as much stock in knowing their parents as humans do. For example, the soranta are parted from their parents shortly after birth and raised by their communities, while the danui lay their eggs as far from home as possible and never think about them again. Humans are among the minority of races who actually care for their offspring long after they’re born.”
Inez started to reply, but Manny raised a hand. “All this is true, First Speaker, yet in asserting this, aren’t you also denying humans the right to conduct their own affairs as they see fit? If so, then you’re violating one of the main principles upon which the Talus was formed…tolerance for the customs and traditions of all races, regardless of how strange they may seem.”
Taf didn’t respond at once. Instead, hisher head cocked to one side, as if listening to a voice only heshe could hear. From the corner of his eye, Jorge noticed small, discreet movements from the Council members. Apparently Manny had scored points with that last comment, for the aliens appeared to be discussing it among themselves.
“The issue you have raised is valid,” Taf said after a few moments. “However, the fact remains that Earth has caused numerous problems for its colony world. Your own history is testament to this. If the starbridge were to be reopened to Earth, for whatever reason, then there is a danger that the same thing could happen again. And this time…”
Heshe was interrupted by a loud, abrupt bong! that echoed through the chamber, as if an unseen bell had just tolled. Taf’s fin rose to its full height; hisher throat sacs inflated, and hisher eyes widened. The First Speaker had obviously been startled by the sudden sound, and when Jorge glanced at the walls, it seemed to him as if the other Council members were similarly taken aback. Taf didn’t continue what heshe was saying, but again cocked hisher head to listen to something.
“What’s going on?” he whispered to Manny. “Why did he…?”
“Hush.” The Savant didn’t look at him, yet his voice was so low, Jorge could barely hear it. “Whatever happens next, don’t say anything. Understood?”
Bewildered, Jorge quickly nodded as Taf turned toward them. “I have been informed that another individual wishes to attend this meeting,” heshe said. A pause, then hisher eyes swiveled toward Inez. “He wishes to speak to you personally, here in this chamber. Is that acceptable?”
Inez hesitated. “Who? I don’t…I mean…”
“Don’t ask,” Manny murmured. “Just say yes.”
“Yes.” She reluctantly nodded. “That is acceptable.”
Taf’s head swung back and forth, the hjadd affirmative, then stepped aside. “By your grace, then…please welcome the chaaz’braan.”
Again, the keyhole door bisected, this time to allow the arrival of an extraterrestrial unlike any other attending the meeting. Slightly taller than a human, swaddled in a brightly colored robe whose elegantly brocaded train dragged across the floor behind him, the alien faintly resembled an enormous, bipedal bullfrog, a once-commonplace Earth creature that Jorge had seen only in pictures. Fleshy jowls hung from either side of a broad, thick-lipped mouth, while two eyes—one of which was half-shut and slightly askew—glittered deep within an enormous head whose white hair was thin and sparse. As the alien slowly walked into the silent room, shoulders hunched forward as he rested his weight upon the staff in his right hand, Jorge was given the impression of great age. This being was very old, perhaps by a matter of centur
ies.
Jorge didn’t know much about Sa’Tong, but he knew who the chaaz’braan was. The last surviving member of the askanta, an extinct race whose planet had been wiped out by the rogue black hole called Kasimasta, he had been sent to safety just before the end of his world. In doing so, the askanta had preserved that which they held most dear: their philosophy, Sa’Tong, as represented by its Great Teacher.
In the many years that followed, the chaaz’braan had brought Sa’Tong to the starfaring races of the galaxy. Race after race had come to embrace its teachings, with chaaz’mahas like Hawk Thompson learning the wisdom of the Sa’Tong-tas and passing it along to others of their kind. Although the Talus itself was largely established upon its principles, the chaaz’braan held no formal position within its government. Nonetheless, the last of the askanta was the most revered being in the Talus…and only a small handful of humans had ever seen him in person.
Noticing that Taf, Manny, and Inez had all bowed, Jorge quickly did the same. The chaaz’braan didn’t seem to notice his tardiness; indeed, he didn’t appear to notice Jorge’s presence at all, nor that of either Manny or Taf. Instead, he slowly walked toward Inez, not stopping until he was only a couple of feet away. When Inez raised her head again, Jorge could see that she was trembling.
The chaaz’braan solemnly regarded her in silence, not saying anything but instead appearing to study her closely. When his mouth finally opened, though, the others in the room heard nothing but a faint, almost subaudible burble. Yet his words became known as finely scripted, luminescent lines of Anglo text that were superimposed upon the walls around them, wrapping themselves around the circumference of the room.
Sa’Tong qo, Inez Sanchez of Coyote. It is a pleasure to meet the child of a chaaz’maha.
Inez glanced at the walls, reading the transcript of what the chaaz’braan had to say, before returning her gaze to him. “Sa’Tong qo, chaaz’braan. It is an honor to meet you as well.”
A soft grunt, as if the chaaz’braan was satisfied by her response. I have been listening to this exchange with great interest. Although it is not my custom to interfere with the Council’s deliberations, I have decided that I would like to question you personally. Is this acceptable to you?
“Yes…yes, please,” Inez stammered. “It would be my honor.”
Are you a follower of Sa’Tong?
“Yes, I am.”
A slow nod of the great head. Very good. I would not have expected otherwise. Is the Sa’Tong-tas that Jasahajahd Taf Sa-Fhadda gave to your father still in your possession?
“It now belongs to the colony where I was raised, where it remains in safekeeping.” Inez paused, then added, “I have studied it myself.”
Very interesting. Another nod. And yet you did not follow your father’s example and become a chaaz’maha yourself. May I ask why?
“I…” Inez hesitated. “With all due respect for my father’s legacy, I decided that my path…my destiny…lay elsewhere. So I became an explorer instead.”
Again, very interesting. So your world does not currently have a chaaz’maha, but instead relies solely upon the Sa’Tong-tas as the basis of your people’s understanding of our philosophy.
Again, Inez hesitated. “Not entirely. In the short time that my father was actively teaching…before his presumed death, I mean…he spoke with enough of my people that he subsequently became something of a legend. So when those among my kind turn to Sa’Tong, very often they do so because they’ve become fascinated with my father’s story, even though they never met him personally.”
So your father is now regarded as a messiah?
Inez’s face colored. “In some ways, yes.”
The chaaz’braan didn’t respond for a moment, but instead lowered his head and began to slowly walk around her, as if contemplating what she’d just said. After a few moments, his words scrolled across the walls again. Sa’Tong is philosophy and not a religion. Because of this, we try to discourage chaaz’mahas from being regarded as messiahs.
“I’m sorry, chaaz’braan.” Inez seemed to have trouble looking at him. “I…we never intended for that to happen.”
The chaaz’braan stopped, turned toward her. No reason to apologize. I realize that this can sometimes occur, particularly with races such as yours that embraced theistic beliefs for so long. Nevertheless, it means that, although Sa’Tong has been accepted by many of your people, it may yet become a religion, and thus risks becoming misinterpreted. In order to avoid this, it still needs a chaaz’maha…a role which you yourself have refused to perform.
Inez took a deep breath. “Is this…what you’d like for me to do?”
The chaaz’braan didn’t reply for a moment, but instead gazed at the black-marble floor. Tell me, please…what is the First Codicil of Sa’Tong?
“I am God, for God is a creation of the self.”
What is the Second Codicil?
“Since I am God, then so is everyone else, and therefore I must treat all others as manifestations of God, with the same reverence and respect as I would give to myself.”
The Third Codicil?
“In order to adhere to the Second Codicil, one must never take any actions that will harm myself or others.”
The Fourth Codicil?
“One must never fail to take action that will prevent harm to myself or others.”
And the Fifth Codicil?
“Wrongful acts must be atoned for with righteous acts of equal or greater proportion.”
Very good. You have learned well. Now, tell me, please…how does your desire to find your father fit in with the Five Codicils?
Inez opened her mouth to reply…and then stopped. A puzzled expression crossed her face as she weighed the question. For several seconds, she said nothing. Then she closed her eyes and slowly shook her head.
“My apologies, chaaz’braan,” she said, very quietly. “I don’t know the answer to this.”
The chaaz’braan peered at her with what seemed to be both sadness and sympathy. No, I do not think you do. Which is all the more reason why you should undertake this mission.
He turned to Taf. First Speaker, it is my opinion that these people should be permitted to return to their homeworld, in order to find their chaaz’maha and, if possible, return him to the place from which he came. There are risks to this endeavor, true, but I believe that they are outweighed by the potential benefits.
Taf’s fin rose, yet hisher head slowly moved back and forth. Glancing around the room, Jorge saw that the other Council members appeared to be reacting to what the chaaz’braan had just said, all in their own ways. Taf cocked hisher head, as if once again listening to the voices in hisher translation device. Several minutes went by, during which no one in the room spoke, then heshe turned toward the humans standing before himher.
“Upon the recommendation of the chaaz’braan,” Taf said, “the High Council has agreed to accept your request. Our starbridge will be opened to allow your spacecraft to journey to Earth. Furthermore, you will be permitted to return to Coyote via hyperspace once your mission is complete. Your ship’s starbridge key will be temporarily adjusted to allow for this one-time use. However, any future access to Earth will depend upon the outcome of your expedition.”
Jorge slowly let out his breath. Glancing at Inez, he saw relief upon her face as well. “Thank you, Taf Sa-Fhadda,” Manny said, bowing ever so slightly. “I appreciate the Council’s decision.”
The hjadd’s only response was to bow to the chaaz’braan. The ancient askanta started to leave, but then he paused to turn toward Inez again.
Sa’Tong qo, daughter of a chaaz’maha. I hope you find what you’re looking for.
“Sa’Tong qo, chaaz’braan.” She pressed the palms of her hands together. “You honor us with your actions, and I will tell my father of our meeting once I find him.”
A soft grunt, as if the chaaz’braan was amused by what she’d just said. You misunderstand me. Your father is only your objective. What you’
re looking for is something else entirely.
Then the Great Teacher slowly walked away, leaving Jorge to wonder what he’d meant by that.
Part 4
DEFIANCE
(from the memoirs of Sawyer Lee)
Once we got to Defiance, it took less than a day for Chris Levin and me to learn David Laird’s whereabouts. But that knowledge cost us dearly.
We came into town aboard the steam sledge that made twice-weekly trips up into the Pioneer Valley. That time of year, deep snow covered the Midland Highway as it led into Gillis Range, making it impassable to any ground vehicles that weren’t hovercraft or equipped with plowheads. Goat Kill Creek was frozen over, so a ferry was out of the question, and although I could have requisitioned a Corps skimmer, that wouldn’t have fit the low profile we were trying to maintain.
So we caught the twin-deck sledge when it stopped at Carlos’s Pizza, using cash instead of credit chits. It wasn’t the most comfortable of rides; the seats were little more than plastic benches crowded together in the lower-deck compartment, and we were crammed in there with a dozen other passengers, mostly farmers and stockmen returning from New Florida or Albion. The rumble of the steam engine made conversation nearly impossible; whenever someone stood up, they’d have to grasp handrails or risk being thrown to the floor by the sledge’s constant rocking upon its skids. I was just happy that Chris had had the foresight to buy box lunches before we left Carlos’s Pizza; otherwise, we would’ve been starving as well as sore by the time the sledge arrived in Defiance.
We had both been there before, of course, yet it had been many years since the last time Chris had set foot in the town. That was during the war; he was a young man then, reunited with his family after making peace with Carlos Montero. In those days, Defiance was a small mountain village where the original colonists had fled following the Union occupation of New Florida: little more than a collection of tree houses nestled within the boughs of a blackwood grove, hidden from the searching eyes of Union Guard satellites.
