Time of the Stones

by Fred Rothganger

  He demanded, “And what would you do?”

  “I would make people happy, or at least fix the things that bring pain. I would get rid of loneliness, hunger, sickness, even death.”

  “Those are childish dreams. Even with absolute power you could never make everyone happy. All you can do is impose your will.”

  “I know how to get rid of pain, and it doesn’t require conquering the world.”

  He sat up and looked at her. “Unlike you, I watched the Rosetta Stone video.”

  Susan remained with her head on the pillow and smiled up at him. “I don’t need to see it. I was there.”

  “I always knew the other Stones would present a challenge, but never imagined it would take the form of a lover. Ha! Such irony. I sent spies to find the Stone in the west, and now another Stone has found me.”

  Susan sat up, suddenly animated. “I searched for the Western Stone from space, but never saw anything. Was it moved inside a building?”

  “The locals told contradictory stories. Some said there was revolution. The masses rose up against the intellectual class. To defy knowledge, they cast the Stone off a cliff and shattered it.”

  “Unlikely. It would probably just leave a dent in the ground and go on working.”

  “Some said that the elite are keeping the Stone hidden somewhere until the time is right. Others said it was buried, and the place forgotten in the mists of time.”

  “I like that one better.”

  “If they were keeping the Stone secret for national security, our spies would have been killed. Instead, people freely shared legends and nonsense. I think the Stone really is lost. Maybe there is truth in all the stories. It could have been shattered, the pieces buried and forgotten.”

  “Did your spies find anyone with a shard of the Stone?”

  “No, but I have commanded them to keep searching.”

  * * *

  The royal wedding did not seal a marriage in the traditional sense. That was already a done deal. Rather, it was a ceremony to present the new queen to the people, more of a coronation.

  Susan imagined a dramatic entrance: fly over the city in bird form, circle the top of the hill a few times so everyone could see her, then alight next to the Stone and morph into human. Cries of awe and wonder would rise from the people—and Temujin would be furious.

  Perhaps she had grown a little wiser with age. In the end, she did as instructed and marched through the citadel dressed in the gorgeous silk gown. The elite of Birik lined the streets and cheered, throwing white flowers on her path. In all her long existence, Susan could not recall ever receiving so much adoration. A just payment for all she had endured to serve humans, it swelled her chest. She smiled and waved back to the crowd, breaking several rules about remaining poised and aloof.

  Temujin waited at the Stone. He reached out, took her hand and raised it high. The crowd cheered again. Consistent with his disavowal of superstition, no shaman or religious leader of any sort appeared on the platform.

  Celeste stood at attention in the Stone, merely waiting to serve information, oblivious to the occasion. Susan imagined that Celeste blessed the marriage. Certainly that was the impression it gave to the people.

  The feasting and dancing lasted two full days, as tradition required. At night, Temujin came to the room too exhausted to move. Susan simply lay awake thinking.

  Perhaps she was like a girl who married in hopes of changing her husband. As a therapist in a former age, Susan would have told that foolish girl to abandon such notions. This was an extreme application of ‘make love, not war.’ Rather than fight bloody battles with a competing civilization, she would confront him in bed, over and over. Would either of them ever yield?

  Royal Family

  Year 11, Day 20

  Susan walked around the hill to the lecture hall, excited to start teaching Swarm Medicine. Perhaps ‘lecture hall’ was too lofty a word for the place, little more than a squat house like all the other buildings on campus. Inside, students packed shoulder-to-shoulder. Clearly this first class had to be pared down somehow.

  Susan activated the projection system. No other professor had such a luxury, though she would happily make more and share. The wall filled with images. The main screen showed the first slide of the lecture. On the left, two smaller screens showed faces of students in the remote lecture halls.

  Coordinating class time across three locations on opposite sides of the planet was no small feat. Early morning in Biysk was late afternoon in Chefurbo and evening at the Sacred Cylinders.

  With the rebirth of the global communication network, Susan introduced the concept of universal time. The whole planet now had one clock, one name for any given moment. With no better reason to pick another location, Stonehill provided the reference point, replacing the Greenwich observatory used by the Ancients.

  “Welcome to the school of Swarm Medicine. To avoid favoring one nationality, we will inconvenience everyone equally. Instruction will be in Ancient English. Let’s begin with roll call. Please go around each room and state your name.”

  As each student spoke, the name appeared under their face in Susan’s heads-up display, visible only to herself. The physical avatar stood in Birik. The other two rooms showed only an image on the screen. With a subtle flick of certain fingers, she switched the heads-up view from one room to another.

  Susan held up a small gold pendant with a serpent engraved on it. “This is the Ancient symbol for medicine. Those of you who endure to the end and show yourselves worthy will receive one of these, along with authority to command the swarm.

  “You will take an oath to serve your patient above all else. If they wish to live, you will do everything in your power to help them live. If they wish to die, you will help them die with dignity. If they wish to pass on to the digital world, you will upload them. You will not inflict pain. You will not be party to torture of any form. If the Great Leader himself commands you to extract information, you will refuse.”

  A gasp rose from the room in Birik.

  “From this day forward, your loyalty will be to a higher cause than any one nation. If you cannot take such an oath, leave now and no ill will be thought of you.”

  A few students wriggled their way to the door and walked out.

  “Your oath will be to your own conscience. You may invoke the gods if you wish. But bear in mind that I can see the swarm. If you break your oath, I will come and personally deliver the consequences to you.”

  A look of genuine terror spread across the faces of the students. Several more got up and left.

  For Susan, this was the usual empty bluster, deliciously vague. She would not kill or torture either, but she would certainly revoke control from anyone who used the swarm to commit such sins.

  She pointed at a young man in Birik. “Would you torture someone, if it were the only way to save their life?”

  His jaw dropped open. He stared like a rabbit into an oncoming train.

  She pointed to a woman at the Abbey. “Would you kill a baby to save its mother?”

  Likewise, the woman stared in shock.

  “Or kill a mother to save the baby?”

  After waiting a suitable amount of time for the answer that would never come, Susan continued, “Your morals will be tested beyond their limits. The important thing is not what I think, but how you choose.”

  Susan thundered on for over an hour, meandering to other topics. They would have to master multiple difficult subjects, each a degree in its own right, such as the sophisticated mathematics to model biological systems. That would help scare away all but the stoutest hearts.

  * * *

  That evening, Temujin grabbed her shoulders and shook hard. “How dare you defy me, in front of my own people!”

  “Why, are you planning to torture someone?”

  “You thorn in my side.” He pushed her away. “You agreed not to meddle in politics.”

  “I hate politics. Right now I’m doing what I love most,
teaching and healing.” Susan studied him. “There’s more to this. Why are you always so angry with me?”

  Temujin turned away, sullen. “You act just like her.”

  “The former queen.”

  He nodded, then stared off at nothing. “We were betrothed the traditional way, in a yurt on the open steppe. I was fourteen and she sixteen. She was the first woman I ever touched.” Temujin’s voice quivered. “We did everything together. We had such grand dreams. I wanted to conquer the world with her at my side.

  “Father died and I rose to power. Then we drifted apart. At first she agreed with the idea of building technology. But as time went on, she wanted to care for the homeless and orphans, while I focused on more practical matters. She came to oppose my plans. So now she does what she loves and I do what I have to.”

  Susan’s eyes widened. “She left you?”

  He nodded.

  “But everyone said you banished her.”

  “It was a move to save face. She hasn’t gone anywhere.”

  Something clicked. “She’s one of the Mothers!” Susan dredged her memory for subtle clues. “Mother Borte.”

  “That’s not her real name. She took it to mock the history of my name.” Temujin balled his fists.

  “I’ve done a terrible thing.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You still love her.”

  “No!”

  “You wouldn’t be so angry unless you loved her. Oh, I’ve done a terrible thing. Go back to her, Temujin. Tell her you’re sorry.”

  “I have a new queen. I can’t take her back now.”

  “I’ll get sick and die. Just keep the Treaty of Limitations and you’ll never see me again.”

  “You promised not to meddle in my internal affairs. This is the most internal of all.”

  “Your heart pertains to me as well.” She fell at his feet. “Please.”

  “You let some romantic notion cloud your mind. You have no regard for practical matters.”

  Susan spoke in a firm voice. “Love is a practical matter. It’s why I choose to live another day, and wake every morning with new hope for the world. The humans I hold most dear are long gone. I continue to live out their dream, all in memory of love.”

  “And if I don’t do as you wish?”

  “I can be practical too. You know the old saying. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”

  * * *

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “How is that even possible?”

  “Don’t worry, it’s not some monster. I stole an egg from a real woman.”

  “Who?”

  “Ah, you will never know, and neither will she.”

  “Borte?”

  Susan hesitated for a moment. “No, but I could arrange to have her child for you, if you wish.”

  Temujin scowled in pain and desire. It was cruel for Susan to pick at that old wound, but he asked for it.

  “I will tell you this much, she is a woman you could be proud to sire a child with. Strong and hardy stock, highly intelligent, with good character. I made my choice very carefully. After all, your son will someday rule this nation.”

  “No child of yours will ever succeed me.”

  “Oh, going back on your promise? That’s what queen means.”

  “This was your plot all along, to take over my country.”

  “Only after you’re dead. Don’t worry, I can afford to be patient.”

  His face turned into a mask, the same expression of intent focus and absolute command he wore to work every day. He turned from her, finished dressing and left the room. She wasn’t particularly welcome in the executive office, a place where he oversaw the relentless program of becoming the most powerful nation on Earth.

  The royal court, such as it was, didn’t meet during the day. That was more for evening entertainment. Only then was Susan expected to make an appearance, looking supremely pretty in some extravagant gown. What was it like when he still shared dreams with his queen? What led him down this hard and lonely road?

  Programming the swarm to incubate a baby was nontrivial, but also quite doable. The biological details were well understood in Ancient times, its mathematical expression stored in the Stone. It didn’t even require much translation, since the swarm’s programming system used the same mathematical language.

  As Susan’s tummy grew to accommodate the tiny human, the gowns from the sewing staff changed. They went from form-fitting silk masterpieces to comfortable wool tents, cinched beneath her bust to produce some resemblance of figure. It was necessary to make a show of being pregnant, as if to announce to the whole court, The king has a baby.

  He sat there stoically, without conveying much happiness or ire. The seat at his side kept her mostly out of his sight. Other women got called to his room at night. Perhaps he considered it unproductive to have sex with her, since its primary function had already been accomplished and there was plenty of work to do elsewhere.

  The numbers coming from the placental interface began to shift. Susan reached up and tapped Temujin’s arm. “It’s time.”

  His eyes grew wide. He made a hand gesture. One of the guards darted out the door.

  Susan stood and walked toward the entrance of the meeting hall. Whispers arose behind, particularly among the women. She went to her chamber in the family quarters, sat on the bed and waited.

  Normally childbirth involved a long painful process of stretching the human body so the baby could fit out through the same narrow opening it got in. Nonsense! She had no intention of doing this the hard way, had not even bothered with software to emulate it. The placental interface sent the necessary chemical signals back to the baby, but her body did none of the normal preparations.

  Nevertheless, she grew nervous. The pain and struggle of childbirth could be skipped, but not the maternal bond. A millennium ago her creator embedded all the mechanisms into her software, along with desire for children and the ability to bond with a mate. All it needed was the right signal at the right moment, and her mind would be forever rewritten around this little life.

  The baby part of the software had not been tested, and no human alive had the technical skill to monitor the experiment. Would she be able to act rationally again? What would happen to the mission to rebuild civilization?

  A knock came at the door.

  Susan responded, “Yes?”

  The door swung open and a middle-aged woman came in, followed by three somewhat younger women. They all made a small bow. The elder midwife said, “Lady Susan, we came as quickly as possible. How do you feel?”

  “Fine.”

  “How frequent are your contractions?”

  “I ... uh ... sorry, but I’d rather do this alone. Could you come back when the baby is born?”

  The midwife stared aghast.

  “Look, I need help with lots of things. Just wait outside the door. I’ll call you when the time comes.”

  The elder midwife looked around at her party and made a small gesture. They trotted back out and closed the door.

  The signals from the baby grew more intense. Susan could already feel it taking hold of her mind. If only those women could accept what they would see next, she would gladly have them.

  All the software had been in place for months, verified by simulation. Milk produced and ready to go. Every sensor and pathway connected. Susan slipped off the dress and tossed it aside. She drew a finger across the bulge that stored the baby.

  A slit opened, like the fruit on a dendroid delivering a new mobile, exposing the unbroken amnion. In cupped hands she lifted it out, panting and gasping.

  No, be quiet. The midwives could rush in at an awkward moment.

  What to do? The baby had to breathe before the placenta separated. Susan stabbed a finger into the amnion. Fluid splashed over her lap onto the bedding.

  The tiny boy drew in air and let out a wail.

  The door burst open. Susan leaped up and turned her back to the intrud
ing women. She plunged her free hand into the cavity and ripped out the placenta, all the while whispering, “Close, close, close.”

  They came around, and let out cries of shock. There she stood naked, nestling the newborn with the umbilical and placenta still dangling from it.

  Immediately a younger midwife handed some towels over. The elder wrapped the baby. Out came a pouch of tools, and she cut off the umbilical. She cooed at the baby, placing him into Susan’s arms. “You barbarians give birth so quickly. In all my years, I have never seen anything like this.”

  Susan floated away in a high induced by all the bonding signals, more intense than any orgasm. Another thin wail, and she let down milk. The boy worked to find her nipple. One of the assistants helped him latch on. The wail turned to a gurgle.

  The assistants and some maids whirred around, cleaning up the mess. They helped Susan into the bed, then the elder said, “I will tell the Great Leader now.”

  A few minutes later Temujin came in. Susan turned the baby for him to see. “Isn’t he beautiful?”

  Temujin stared at the boy impassively. “We will give him a name from history. Ogedei.”

  “Really, Ogedei? Then I’ll call him Oggie.”

  * * *

  Pinar started her day in the usual way, playing in the garden after breakfast. Mother Borte came and told her to come in. Pinar thought nothing of it, as the Mothers often asked the girls to come help with some chore.

  Inside stood a group of men in blue uniforms. Pinar instantly cowered behind her caregiver.

  The Mother pushed her forward. “Get your things together. The new queen wishes to adopt a girl, and she asked for you.” Borte was always the nicest of Mothers, but today she seemed angry.

  Did Pinar do something wrong? Why did she have to leave? She grabbed a handful of clothes from under the bed, everything she owned.

  One of the men leaned down and smiled. “Don’t cry, little girl. You’re the luckiest kid in the empire.” He took her hand and led her out to the street. The other men arranged themselves to box her in, and they walked in formation. The walk lasted a long time. Pinar grew tired.