Journey To Light: Part I of the High Duties of Pacia

by Bob Craton

CHAPTER 14

  Caelia § 2

  This day Caelia led a class of nines. Kids that age would never hold onto a rope, of course, and these had been in school long enough to be a little full of themselves. Especially the boys, she thought, but at least the boy nines weren’t as big of a pain as those her own age. She had brought the group to one of the water wheels on the north wall of the Chamber where they met the man and woman who would speak to them. The energist and hydrologist had both smiled warmly at Caelia (she was used to it; all adults responded that way) before taking over the lesson. Caelia had heard this lecture many times and would have paid it little mind except for the fact that Manfrit, a boy of fourteen, was watching her from a distance. Her bright hair made her easy to find in a crowd but she had tired of boys staring at her. Expressing her irritation at Manfrit’s attention, she refused to glance in his direction and pretended to be interested in what was being said.

  “The water comes from a stream on the mountain above and is led here through a tunnel,” the hydrologist was saying as she pointed upward. “When it pours out from the opening in the ceiling, it spins the wheel, as you can see, before flowing to the cisterns under the floor.”

  “And the belt from the wheel turns the armature in the generator, as you can also see,” added the energist as he looked up to the structures he described. “That creates the energy which we channel through the copper strips to the glow-globes. You may think the glow-globes are Anziên and therefore are something we can’t make anymore, but that’s not true. When we need a new one, we make it ourselves. Globes were invented right here in the Chamber, you see, by energists and other tekniks shortly after they came to Annâles-Scientia for the first time. They were people just like us, our ancestors in fact. History says that anginears had little involvement and we tekniks figured it out on our own. My own great-grandfather, in fact, was instrumental in improving . . .”

  Caelia agreed that tekniks deserved more credit than they often received, but a recitation of one family’s story would be boring to a class of nines. She spoke up to change the direction of the conversation.

  “Weren’t the first plans for globes drawn up by a Dozent who had deciphered some old post-Anziên records?” she asked slyly.

  “Well, um, that may have happened too,” said the energist. “I’m sure everyone did their part back then. Just like today.”

  Appreciating Caelia’s tactic, one of the girl nines turned towards her so they could share conspiratorial smiles. When Caelia finally glanced back in Manfrit’s direction, she didn’t see him watching her any more. Frowning, she looked around until she found him working with his father at a lathe. “Humpf,” she snorted and she turned her attention back to the lesson.

  Because her father was Dozent, Caelia’s family lived in the best quarters in all of Annâles-Scientia. Due to the crowding – no one had ever expected so many people to move into the place, after all – space was limited and the rooms of the Chancelar~Emerick family were no larger or nicer than any others. They did have one extra room where her parents often met with people who came for advice or debate, but that was a working room and not living space. The real attraction of their home came from its location. Their rooms were on First Hall, the closest of any living quarters to the Chamber where Caelia’s parents and so many others worked.

  Caelia had been very young at the time of the tragedy which brought so many to Annâles-Scientia and therefore she had no real recollections of living anywhere else. She had, however, listened to all the stories about what had happened over a decade earlier. For example, she knew that her grandfather Atenodoro, the previous Dozent, had disappeared around that time. Her parents spoke of him often, telling Caelia how he called her a once-in-a-millennium baby, but she couldn’t recall what he looked like. Similar to her father only older, she assumed. Whenever she tried to visualize an image of her first home, the picture in her head was just a construct of imagination taken from things she had been told. Like anyone else her age or younger, Caelia was a child of Annâles-Scientia. All that she remembered had happened there, and every person she knew lived there.

  When Caelia arrived home that day, she heard voices coming from the meeting room and eavesdropped at the door long enough to find out they were talking about organizing the next trade expedition. Oddly, one voice that she didn’t hear was that of her mother, Binah, so Caelia went looking for her. She found Binah pouring over yet another stack of paper – not Anziên stuff or antiquarian records, but treatises written in the last two centuries.

  “Why aren’t you in the conference?” Caelia asked.

  “I was but I got bored,” her mother replied. “Whenever we start planning an outing, everyone has to recite all their worries again before any work gets started. You know, ‘what if we’re seen’ and all that. People said the same things last time and every other time before, but some folks are compulsive about repetition. I’m not complaining, though, just saying that I got tired of listening. The process gets their fears out in the open which helps control people’s anxiety.” Binah was regarded as the best counselor in Annâles-Scientia and knew very much about human nature.

  “What’s the point in worrying about the danger? If someone doesn’t go out to trade for food, we’ll all starve,” said Caelia, going straight to the heart of the matter. “We can’t grow enough in the gardens and if we plow large fields farther downhill someone would notice.”

  “Which would reveal that a lot of people live around here.”

  “And the Yuzoi would send some Sarkonians to look for us,” Caelia finished. “You don’t have to explain this to me, Mom. I’m not one of your committee members. We have to send out trade expeditions no matter how dangerous it is, so all you adults should stop whining and start moving.”

  “You don’t have to explain that part to me either, Caelia.”

  “Excuse me, Mom. For an adult, you’re pretty smart. So is Dad about half the time,” admitted Caelia. “But you still haven’t figured out the best way to pick who goes outside on these trips.”

  “I’m sure you have an idea.”

  “Naturally. Instead of sending big men and strong women just because they can carry heavier loads down the mountain, we should choose families.”

  Binah recognized that her daughter was up to something but she said, “Explain what you mean,” anyway.

  “Send groups that look like families to go trading. You know, men, women, and kids.” Caelia spoke fast now so her mother couldn’t interrupt with the obvious objections. “I don’t mean little children. Kids my age would be better. Don’t say we can’t carry as much as adults. We’re tougher than you think and having kids along would help disguise the mission. Think about it. If you saw families carrying bags and pushing carts near the mountain, you’d think ‘they’re looking for a new home,’ but if you saw the bunch we always send, you’d think ‘they’re up to something’ and get suspicious.”

  “You actually have a good point, dear, except for the obvious part about you wanting to talk us into letting you go along,” replied Binah, but then she thought a moment and added, “Everyone is frightened that the Zafiri’s servants will catch our people before they get far enough away from the caverns, but that’s only a part of the danger. Most of those who see our trade missions are regular people and some may get desperate enough to sell the information. You’re ruse might fool those.”

  “Of course it will. Who could be suspicious if they saw me along?” Caelia tilted her head, opened her eyes wide, and showed pure innocence and virtue in her face.

  “I would.”

  “But you’re my mother. You already know me.”

  “I have one more point,” said Binah. “Carrying trade goods downhill is difficult enough. They’re heavy but small. However, on the return trip the wagons will be full of grain, vegetables, and so forth. That’s a lot bulkier and children will be less help then.”

  “After we unload the food where we hide the wagons you can send some big stron
g men down to take over,” Caelia said. “We might as well get some use out of them.” Mother and daughter both grinned at the last comment, but Binah became serious.

  “What made you think of this, Caelia?”

  “I’m smart.”

  “Yes dear, everyone knows that, but something must have given you the idea for this plan of yours.”

  Caelia looked in her mother’s eyes for a long moment before responding. “When you see things that other people can’t, your premonitions I mean, do they come to you in dreams?”

  “No, just when I’m awake and they happen suddenly,” Binah said. “I don’t actually see much, usually just one quick glimpse, but I instantly know what the vision means. Forgive me for being so vague but I can’t explain it any better than that.”

  “I understand, Mom. Three days ago I had a premonition myself and it happened exactly like that. I saw myself outside in bright sunshine and the land around me was nothing at all similar to the area around our gate. The wind was in my face because I was moving swiftly but I can’t explain how I was going so fast. I pulled a string I had used as a ribbon out of my hair and spread my arms wide. I was completely happy and I knew I was doing something good, something very important.”

  Binah paused and took a deep breath. No one would be surprised that the girl had foreseen something – Caelia was her mother’s daughter, after all – and Binah had no doubt about the veracity of what she had just heard. She did, however, have a question. “Did you see anyone else outside with you in the vision?”

  “No.”

  “Caelia, in your vision you were safe but you couldn’t see if everyone else was. Your plan to take kids along on the trading expedition is obviously all your idea and not part of the premonition. Would you risk putting other kids in danger just because . . . no, I shouldn’t say that. I already know you wouldn’t.”

  “It’s not a trick just to get me outside, if that’s what you mean.”

  “That isn’t what I think. You really believe the entire plan is a good idea, don’t you?”

  “Yes. It’s logical and beneficial, and it would help to keep us all safer.”

  “You may be right but you’ll have to convince everyone using only logic and practical arguments,” Binah said. “Do not tell anyone about your premonition. Do you understand?”

  “Of course I do. People need to decide what’s best for their children based on the facts and not just because I told them I had foreseen something.”

  “Good. You do understand. It would be different if your vision had shown that all the children would be safe too, but it didn’t. People have such confidence in you, Caelia, that they would be unfairly influenced if they knew you had a premonition,” said Binah.

  “I know. The plan really is a good idea on its own. Think about it, Mom.”

  “I will.” Binah did exactly that although her thoughts were not so much about the advisability of using children as traders. Instead, her mind dwelt on the fact that her daughter was no longer a little girl and what that meant. After just over a minute she stood up and said, “It’s time to go back to the meeting. Come with me please, dear.”

  Caelia’s proposal met with immediate rejection. Her father shook his head and said “No, no, no!” when he realized what she was suggesting and the others in the room reacted likewise. Caelia expected this response, however, and she knew that this debate could not possibly be won during just one committee meeting. In the following days, the girl kept the discussion going through sheer willpower. Every citizen of Annâles-Scientia knew that Caelia was both brilliant and remarkably mature for her age, and she proved to be clever, determined, and forceful as well. She even stopped wearing ribbons in her hair and let it fall freely; she thought it made her look older despite the fact that everyone knew her exact birth date. Within a week, Caelia had spoken to everyone in the population and she had convinced most people of the logic of her proposal.

  But nobody was ready yet to actually follow her suggestion. The reason was open and obvious. No one wanted to risk their own children in such a way.

  “The children who stay at home are in just as much danger as anyone who goes outside,” she told them. “If the Yuzoi intercept our trade expedition, you know what will happen. Even if they don’t find the way here, they’ll keep closer guard and we’ll never succeed in bringing enough food back. Your little ones here will starve and die. Taking some of us kids along will reduce the odds of failure by making our people look like innocent families rather than suspicious traders.”

  “We’ve never needed to use this trick before,” someone argued.

  Another countered, “More people are outside watching us than ever before.”

  By the end of the second week of Caelia’s campaign, some people were suggesting a compromise. “What if we sent some fifteens and sixteens?” they asked. “Sturdy ones could carry as much as some adults and take care of themselves pretty well.” Naturally, Caelia objected.

  “Listen, people,” she countered, “Picking sixteen year old boys and girls who look older than they are won’t work. The adults who are going are young themselves. Who would believe that a twenty-five or thirty year old couple has a kid who looks eighteen? We need younger looking ones and we don’t all have to travel with our own parents.”

  “Not every adult on the expedition is so young. Dagan and Matrika are forty,” someone said, referring to the couple who would lead the expedition.

  “Then they’re the perfect age to have a thirteen year old daughter,” replied Caelia.

  To accommodate everyone, the final vote was taken at Meeting Square in the Chamber. A dozen people of all occupations climbed the steps to the platform of Speaker’s Dais and waited patiently as they took turns expressing themselves. The concavity in the wall behind the dais reflected voices outward so the speakers could be heard by everyone in the square. People knew how to do the math and calculate the odds. As unpalatable as Caelia’s plan might be, it really did increase their chances of safety. When it became obvious that a majority agreed with the girl, everyone made the vote unanimous by acclamation. Afterwards Binah asked five friends to come home with Escol and herself. Before they settled in, Escol turned to his wife.

  “Why did you encourage her?” he lamented.

  “I didn’t encourage her, dear. I just realized the futility of resisting her.”

  “You did your best, Escol,” said Ruadelf, the senior anginear who sat on the Dozent’s other side. “You of all people should understand that your daughter isn’t really a young girl but a force of nature. And whether you admit it or not, she’s right about this stratagem.”

  Escol really did understand but hearing the words repeated did not make him feel any better. Binah took his hand and looked around. Except for Ruadelf, the other guests were all good working people who had sought shelter with the scholars and anginears. The graying but still powerful Oncle Smyth was acknowledged chief of the artifexers while Fernanda, a thin woman Binah’s age, represented a faber association. Dagan and Matrika were agricoles, farmers who worked outside tending the small gardens which provided part of the food needed by the people of Annâles-Scientia. Unlike everyone else, their skin wasn’t pale from lack of sunshine. Since the Dozent must remain neutral at all times, Binah usually spoke for the savant-litteratae who had been the original population of the caverns. Even though she came from one of the Honor Families and her husband’s family, the Chancelars, had spawned very many genius scholars before Escol and his father, Binah recognized the value of all people. After all, anyone could rise through merit and intelligence or decline due to the lack of those.

  “I should go too, to watch over . . .,” Escol tried to say but every other voice in the room said, “No!” at once.

  “The Dozent must remain with the people at all times,” Oncle Smyth insisted. Turning to Binah, he added, “I trust we all were clear about you not going either.”

  “Very clear,” Binah admitted. For a moment, it seemed she wo
uld re-start the argument but she caught herself. “Oh, well. In truth, I would only slow her down if something did happen. So would you, husband. She would need to watch over us instead of the other way around,” she said but Escol was staring off into space and did not hear. Turning to Dagan and Matrika, she asked, “Are you sure you want to deal with Caelia?”

  “It will be a pleasure,” replied Matrika. “Besides our son Tabari is going and he enjoys the idea of having a sister.”

  “I doubt he will by the time you return,” Binah said.

  “He’s a strong boy and he likes living in interesting times,” said Dagan. “He’ll do fine.”

  Escol began to stir. “She really is extraordinary,” he said to himself, not realizing that everyone else could hear him. The others already knew that, of course, and loved the girl for it. They continued talking among themselves regardless of whether Escol paid any attention or not.