by Doris Egan
Anyway. About sixty years ago the other worlds started hearing discomforting news events coming out of Tellys. The Sealed Kingdom declared independence around then and somehow got away with it—I don't know the ins and outs of Tellysian politics—and after stewing in their own self-congratulation for a while, started to become more and more militant.
(I know. This is all my own view of the matter. I can't give you somebody else's view, can I?)
Selians seek to perfect the universe until it reaches a state that matches the ideal; at that time the Perfect Kingdom will exist in reality as well as an abstraction. "The Perfect Kingdom Is At Hand" is a prime Selian credo. Understand, this has nothing to do with temples or supreme beings—on the contrary, they feel perfection is attainable with their own hot little hands. Selian houses are spotlessly clean. If Selian children don't match the physical ideal, they are dieted, exercised, and surgically altered, or else constantly humiliated for the rest of their lives.
Their definition of perfection, and their mechanism for attaining it, are based on two things: The worship of Fate (under the leadership of the Selian Central Committee), and a sense of differentiation. Differentiation means in the aggregate sense that the Selians are superior to other people. Fate means that their destiny is to one day have that superiority acknowledged. In the most peaceful way, mind you; their object is not to kill or torture. They only want to help others to understand that their ordained place is in service to the Kingdom. Once this understanding is reached, the universe will start to operate on the level it should be at.
As you may guess, any group this hierarchical is pretty rigid within its own ranks, as well. From what I understand, there are at least twenty separate levels, from the top three classes, who dye their hair silver-white to differentiate themselves—it would be a pity if their fellow citizens failed to recognize their natural superiority—down to the dregs at the bottom of the ladder, who are nevertheless a rung above anybody not Selian.
Women are placed just beneath the bottom rank. This is where the Tolla come in.
I must have been about thirteen, still living on Pyrene, when I saw the first news spot out of Tellys. It was a clip from a Unity talk show, with a regular Tellysian host, interviewing a Selian man. He wasn't silver-haired, so he couldn't have even been highly placed in the SK, but he was amused and contemptuous of the non-Selian interviewer. The interviewee was considered news because he'd just been acquitted of killing his wife. He'd been accused of setting her on fire because she was a bad cook. They showed a picture of her remains, a brief interview with the woman's sister—who had very little to say—and then cut back to the husband.
They cut back, and he smiled widely, showing a set of straight white teeth. It was the smile of somebody who has gotten away with something.
Since that first interview I heard the occasional stories of dowry murders, of a rise in female emigration from the Sealed Kingdom to the Tellys Unity—until there was a swift law passed forbidding women to carry identity papers themselves, or to travel when not under the supervision of an authorized male.
I know that none of this is historically new, but that's my point—this is a modern, industrialized, technologically advanced world I'm talking about. One that had seemed relatively sane before the destruction of Gate 53.
The rest of Tellys seems to consider the Kingdom a temporary aberration, and lack the ability or will to do much about it. After all, they were only about fifteen percent of the world population. And they were only preying on their own people. And in case you haven't dealt with any Selians, I ought to point out that they are not crazed lunatics who run around foaming at the mouth. Even for them, wife murderers are not on every corner, and except for the dye job, most of them look pretty normal. They have trades and families like any other society, and some of them do a lot of good. Altruism is built into their philosophical structure—kind of a noblesse oblige attitude; the upper ranks are expected to devote several years to collective good works. That's how the Selian Medical Clinic came to Ivory. It's amazing what a sincere case some of them make for their way of life.
Not that I, personally, like them. But I feel obliged to point this out.
But where slavery exists, you get abolitionists, and where the Selians exist—you get the Tolla.
They appeared one day, leaving a note famous for its brevity on the body of the gentleman interviewed by the talk show. "Shot by the Tolla." No manifesto, no explanations—for murderers, you had to like them. And then there was their choice of label, Tolla, "The Wrath of the Goddess." The word came from an old legend, a selection not without historical charm. They were, as much as we could tell from so far away—I was still on Pyrene at the time—a group of hitwomen. Soon they didn't bother to leave even brief notes; everyone knew who they were.
On Pyrene they were considered an interesting footnote, an eccentric example of life away from civilization. On Athena, I found, they were strongly disapproved of as a terrorist group. "One acts to change unjust laws; two wrongs don't make a right; if they weren't ashamed of what they were doing, they'd stand trial openly." Their anonymity seemed rather practical-minded to me, but I did not express this view at the time. Public opinion is a powerful force on Athena.
So now here I was, shocked—and I have to admit, a trifle delighted—to be facing someone who claimed involvement in the Tolla.
The life of a plain sorcerer's apprentice had been getting monotonous. It would be nice to talk to someone who did exciting things.
* * *
I said, glancing at Lykon, "I didn't know they let men in the Tolla."
"What a narrow way of doing things that would be," said Van Gelder. "Not that I said that either of us were in the Tolla. I speak hypothetically."
I was completely fascinated. "Your government doesn't even like the Tolla. They're always trying to capture them. Or is that an act?"
She shook her head. " 'The Tolla are a terrorist organization. We do not condone their actions.' And we're perfectly serious, Theodora—I speak now as a representative of the Tellys Unity. When a government lends itself to acts of terrorism, it loses its moral center."
She seemed to mean it. I said, "Then you're not Tolla yourself?"
"On the other hand, what a private individual may feel impelled to do should not have repercussions beyond his own conscience. One may disobey a law, and nevertheless believe that law to be necessary."
"That's not what they teach on Athena."
Her long, sunburnt fingers tapped her plate. "They can afford to be finicky on Athena. The most that happens to anyone there is getting tossed off a committee."
I'd once heard of a man who'd committed suicide after getting tossed off a committee. However, I suppose that would seem an unjustified response to someone involved in an organization whose purpose was so openly lethal.
I suddenly became aware that the sun was past the striped dome across the river, and that afternoon was practically evening. Two other tables had somehow become occupied, and I hadn't even been aware of it.
"This is fascinating," I said honestly, "but I'm not sure how it affects me or my House."
She hesitated. "From your records, I thought you might lean toward a sympathy with our cause. You're not the usual Athenan scholar. Was I only reading into it what I wanted to believe?"
"No…" I said slowly. "If you want the truth, I have mixed feelings about the subject. But I've seen people killed for less reason than the Tolla has. And if you were shooting somebody today, I'd step out of range of fire and go on my way."
Lykon made one of his rare remarks. "That's all we really expected."
I turned to him. "You look too gentle to be in the Tolla."
He smiled. It was a gentle smile. "It evens out," he said. "Keleen looks like a very general, doesn't she?"
I had to admit that she did. Everything about her, from her well-chosen semi-but-not-quite-Ivoran wardrobe to the knowledgeably applied cosmetics, spoke of planning. The few items that seem
ed to have escaped her control, like the ray of lines around her eyes, only gave weight and character to her looks. It was a good thing, really, that she had a slightly burnt complexion; otherwise one could be put off by her inhumanly precise elegance. Strength was in every bone and angle; but strength in the service of what?
Lykon, on the other hand, with his quiet, good-humored face, might as well have a sign around his neck saying "Trustworthy." If you ran into Jack Lykon while your city was falling, you'd give him your child to hold while you hammered your fists against the seal of the last departing ship. It seemed like the sort of face that is well-attached to the soul behind it, but until we knew this for sure I resolved to hang onto my wallet and my skepticism.
He sighed, looking at his empty mug, and said, "Do you think I could get another beer? I hesitate to ring for the waiter…"
"Yes, he might not make it out till autumn." I squeezed the button on my airtight jar of cherry fizz and watched a stream pour into my glass. "If you're just thirsty, this might hold you till you get the real thing." I offered him my glass.
How much did they really understand about Ivory? Would they pass the test? He took the glass and drained it, getting a head of fizz around his mouth. Silly, but endearing, particularly in a balding terrorist. He said, in Ivoran, "My thanks."
Van Gelder seemed quietly amused. Points for their team. If Cormallon did make some kind of arrangement with them, they wouldn't disgrace us.
A sudden breeze blew up from the river, ruffling the table napkins. Here I was, naive, apolitical Theodora of Pyrene, sitting with two enemies of the Tellysian government, and I just didn't feel in any great danger. I suppose the Tolla has to recruit somehow; there must be some way,
even if it's not the most reliable, of feeling out when to tell, and when not to tell. And perhaps it wasn't a great leap of faith at that—I wasn't a citizen of the Tellys Unity, I had no stake in what their world did. My very disinterest was a shield. Nor are Ivorans in the habit of mixing in governmental matters at all, if they can avoid them.
However they'd come to their conclusion, it was a correct one. I had no intention of telling any Tellysian officials about them. Even if I had, all the Tellysian officials were at the embassy, and it was more than possible Van Gelder had some system in place there for dealing with civilians who tried to bring embarrassing things to their attention.
It occurred to me that it must be useful for the Tolla, having a junior ambassador in their pocket. Maybe their influence went even further than that; I'd never been to Tellys and had no feel for their pattern of views in general, but it was no secret that the Kingdom was not well-liked there, to say the least. Quite apart from their politics, Unity citizens couldn't help but feel that the Selians had had a lot of nerve, seceding the way they did. There must be a good amount of underground support for the Tolla there— surely there was sympathy for their aims, if not their methods.
If they really were a power at home, allying with the Tolla might not be a bad idea for Cormallon. As long as it was a secret alliance. And a group like the Tolla must be pretty used to the concept of secrets.
She said, "Will you at least take the proposal to your husband? He is the First of his House, is he not?"
"Ambassador Van Gelder, I'm still at sea as to what your proposal is."
"Keleen, please."
"Keleen." Always glad to address a member of a dangerous terrorist group by their first name.
"The Tolla face certain problems currently," she said, in a brisk, businesslike tone. That reference to "our cause" a minute ago was the closest she tended to come to speaking of the group in the first person; it was always third-person, always an official distance. "First, Unity nationals are searched before entering the Kingdom. And in the last planetary year, the Kingdom has begun searching people who are traveling internally from territory to territory.
Even long-range weapons that are already on Kingdom soil need transport, obviously; and then there's the matter of getting recharges to those weapons."
"I see." Nobody had ever spoken to me before on the subject of weapons running. I may have given up my opportunity for a degree on Athena, but living on Ivory is an education in itself.
"It's not like this planet; the officials are very chancy when it comes to bribery. There are always old-fashioned items like knives and clubs that can't really be controlled, but I'm sure you see at once that the proximity required for application makes capture much more likely."
"Oh, definitely. First thing I thought of."
She took me seriously. "Well, it goes without saying. So some people have been looking into the matter of weapons transport in general. The majority have been approaching this from the angle of transport; but it occurred to… others… that it might be rewarding to approach from the angle of the weapons themselves."
"You just said that knives and clubs…"
She smiled faintly. "Living on this world cannot help but give one a more creative attitude as to what constitutes a weapon."
"… Oh."
"I understand the tragedy of young Kade Porath has been traced to sorcery."
"Yeah, I'd heard that, too."
"A vivid demonstration of its capabilities, I must admit—"
I sat up straight. "What do you mean, demonstration? Was Kade's death some kind of demo for you people? Are you already negotiating with some other House?"
She seemed honestly surprised. "Good lord, no. When we get to the demo stage I'm sure we can find someone less visible than a first son of the nobility. What do you take us for?"
"Honestly, I have no idea what to take you for. You'll have to tell me."
Jack Lykon said, "The Tolla had nothing to do with Kade Porath. It's true. I mean, for god's sake, Theodora— that would be murder."
I let that line lie.
Van Gelder said, "My principals' only wish is to enter into a long and profitable relationship with your House. I understand the penalties for using sorcery in an organized way here—against the government, that sort of thing—can be quite severe. But let me point out, there are no such laws on Tellys. Sorcery is not even recognized there. This would seem to open up a whole new area of expansion for Cormallon, Theodora. Surely it would be your duty to communicate my offer."
"I'll think it over."
"Good plain Ivoran tabals would be placed in your House account—no nasty, suspicious foreign money, I promise. In return, a consultant relationship would be opened, regarding how best to handle the weapons problem I described earlier." She reeled it off as though from a business contract. "No actual sorcerer would have to travel to Tellys to do the executions, not unless it proves absolutely necessary. Some form of weapon that can be used by any knowledgeable person will do the trick nicely."
I raised my hands. "You've made it all very clear, ambassador." Suddenly I'd had enough of murder for the day. I found myself wishing I could lie down and sleep for twenty hours, like Kade's grandmother.
Van Gelder seemed to sense my withdrawal. "I hope I haven't offended in any way, Theodora. I was under the impression that your husband took on assassinations from time to time himself, so it hardly seemed—"
"Yes, I know. All right." I stood up. "I'll consider passing the matter on."
Jack Lykon rose at once and shook my hand. I still couldn't see him as Tolla. It would be easier to imagine him as a country veterinarian, rising to a spot of mild indignation only over the occasional mistreatment of puppies. I said, "I may want something from you, though."
"Me?" He looked surprised.
"I'll let you know," I said. Reflex almost made me bow, but I caught it in time and confined myself to a polite smile in the ambassador's direction.
She said, "I have a carriage at the Lin Entrance."
"Thank you, I'd prefer to walk. I have some thinking to do."
She inclined her head. "A very great pleasure, Theodora, whatever you decide."
Well, that's why she was an ambassador. I left the terrace, made my way t
o the upper level of the grounds, and took the Walk of Plum Trees down its ruler-straight course to the Kyi Entrance. From there it's about a half hour to our house.
I like to walk in the early evening, when a cool hand finally lays itself on the feverish skin of a capital summer day. Of course, by then any passing breath of air is considered cool, not to mention blessed. The shops next to the Kyi Entrance of the Imperial Park are known for their ridiculous prices; it's fun to look in the windows, guess the tag amount, then peer closer and have the shock of seeing how thoroughly your imagination has underestimated.
So, while playing this innocent game I considered the less innocent ones being proffered by these two Tellysians. What should I do? Probably I ought to disapprove of the Tolla, but the truth was that I didn't. At the same time, I had no wish to get personally involved; by nature I'm neither a martyr nor a soldier, and had my hands full just trying to lead an honorable life where I was. As for Ran—I tried to imagine Ran agreeing to share House secrets with any ally of less than five hundred years, and failed miserably.
This seemed to get us nowhere. At the same time, Jack Lykon was a genalycist, and a genalycist would be a useful person to have in my life this particular year. If only—
I passed a shop with an antique book on display; a gold-encrusted cover, opened with a key, and the words "Stories of the Third Empire" in gold and crimson letters of ancient calligraphy.
I collect stories, you know. At one time I thought it was a vocation, but lately I've come to wonder whether it's a hobby. Whatever the stories of the Third Empire were, I could probably track them down more cheaply elsewhere—
Stories. I'd collected stories from Ran's family, too. Tall stories, legends, anecdotes, recollections—not all of them believable, but all of them interesting, and none, unfortunately, released for public consumption. They were in a notebook back in my room in Cormallon, tucked under a pile of things on a table by the window. I hadn't taken them out in months; hadn't been back at Cormallon in weeks.
