Reclamation (39 page)

The greenish one retracted himself until his eyes were level with Perivar’s. “That is not permitted. You will be shown where you can wait with Sar
ki
Maliad.”

Arla kept her eyes straight ahead as she followed the Shessel through the domed rooms. The oxygen pack dragged at her sore shoulders and the breathing mask itched where it pressed against her temples, and she wanted to tear the gel off her skin. Ere kept swiveling her eyes back toward Arla in a manner Arla could have sworn was furtive, but she couldn’t tell who the child was afraid for, Arla or herself.

They reached the chamber where the Vitae waited. It was Basq again, and Round One from the bus. The webwork of steel and gel that housed the two Vitae made them look for all the world like they were in a cage. The sight gave Arla some slim measure of satisfaction.

Basq stood near the membrane and his eyes glittered as he saw Arla move to stand beside the Shessel.

“Thank you for bringing our artifact, Sar Gov,” said Basq. “The Vitae will remember that the Shessel honored and respected the process of reclamation.”

“That has not yet been determined,” said Gov. “There are conflicting legalities and there is a charge to be leveled.” He dropped one of his lower hands and stroked Ere’s neck. “There have been numerous developments since your delegation spoke to us this morning.”

“This morning?” Basq repeated. “No delegation was sent this morning.”

“But we received one,” said Gov. “Two Vitae and their children, asking for custody of the parent Arla Stone. Since then, Kivshakadene has died. Ereri claims it was murder and lays responsibility at the door of the Rhudolant Vitae. Our laws are dear. No business can be done with any corporation or individual who endangers or injures the child of a Shessel parent.” He paused. “This includes the exchange of property.”

Basq stiffened minutely. “No Vitae delegation was sent. I am set to oversee this matter. If members of the Rhudolant Vitae have violated Shessel life or law, they will be brought to trial and conviction. We will investigate this matter as far as we can. I am sure we both need to contact our voices within the Kethran Diet. What we ask in return is good faith from you, that you return our property.”

Ere whistled sharply and grabbed Gov’s secondary arm with three of hers. “But how have they laid claim?” she demanded, pointing toward the Vitae with her free hand. “All they say is that their ancestors came from this place. Well, my ancestors came from the Si-Tuk province, yet for three-quarters of a century, they vigorously contested our enclave’s right to return there.” She extended herself to her fullest height and turned all her eyes towards the Vitae. “I have named Arla Stone my protector, in front of witnesses, and unless you can lay claim to me, too, you cannot have her.”

Basq looked down at the child and then up at the full-grown Shessel. “This is a matter beyond personal …”

“It was,” said Gov. “Kivshakadene’s death drops it to exactly a personal grievance and Ere is her family’s voice. When we have established communications with the Emissary’s Council, we may all be ordered to do differently, but that is hours away yet. Your good faith would be best indicated if you began these investigations you insist will occur.”

“Our Ambassadors are already conferring with your enclave,” said Basq, staring straight at Arla. “The countermand may come at any time.”

“Then you will find we are obedient to the judgment of the Enclave of the World,” said Gov. “Until then, to the Shessel Arla Stone is a free parent of free children.

“We ask you to leave our Embassy.”

Basq did not incline his head or make any other gesture of respect, he just turned and left. Arla heard her own breathing through the mask, harsh and heavy.

The Shessel was studying her.

She shifted her weight and tried not to scratch at the gel pressing into her pores.

Nameless Powers preserve me, I should be used to this. Enough people have stared at me since I left home.

“What will you do if I leave?” Arla asked.

Gov’s whole body rippled. “We are not the ones who have claim upon you. We could make you stay, I suppose, but not legally, according to the legalities of the moment, unless Ereri keeps you protectorate-bound for that.” His back two eyes retracted. “I personally would be glad to see you gone, just because those murderers want you here.”

Ere tilted her head and eyes to look directly at Arla. “Where would you go if I broke bond?”

“Home, to my family and my own children. We have the Unifiers and the Vitae going to war over us. We need to make a stand against them.”

Ere extended herself, arms, legs, eyes, and neck. “Then I release you. You are no more protector.”

Arla smiled and knelt in front of Ere. “I hope that is not true, Little One.” She stroked the child’s neck briefly and felt the living flesh ripple under her hand. Her mind didn’t see Ere’s alien shape. She saw Little Eye and Storm Water and Roof Beam and Hill Shadow. It hurt to make herself stand up and shake clear that vision.

“I need to speak with Perivar and Iyal,” she said to Gov.

“Of course.”

The humans had been put in a little room separated from the Embassy proper by one of the membrane thresholds. Arla all but leapt through it and reveled in the sensation of the gel peeling away to let plain, dry air touch her skin. She lifted away the faceplate and fumbled with her tank’s straps. Iyal got up and helped her get the weighty thing off. Perivar remained sitting in an overstuffed chair, staring at the wall.

“It went all right, I take it?” said Iyal as she hung Arla’s gear on a rack beside the door.

Arla shrugged. “In its way, but I need to leave here, and I need to find Eric Born.”

“Good luck,” muttered Perivar. “Adu doesn’t even know where the Vitae took him.” He combed both hands through his hair.

“I need him,” said Arla. “I need to get back to the Realm. I need a ship to take me there and once I am there I need someone who can make the Teachers and the Nobles listen.”

“I told you,” snapped Perivar. “We don’t know where he is!”

“And even if we did,” said Iyal, “you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near a Vitae encampment.”

“You don’t think so?” Arla folded her arms. “They want me in there badly. You think they wouldn’t take me in if someone offered to hand me over?”

Perivar raised his head slowly. “You haven’t got any idea what you’re up against.”

Arla felt her temper snap. “You have no idea what I know, Skyman! I know your partner is dead and your friend is imprisoned and I know who has done these things. I also know you are sitting there, just sitting there, willing to let these … things … rule the places you and your children and your children’s children will have to live in!” She threw up both hands. “What is the matter with you people? You’re worse than most of the Notouch! They at least follow the words of the Nameless. You, you just follow the words of a bunch of bloody-handed strangers!”

For a moment, Arla thought Perivar was going to hit her. His fist curled and cocked itself. Iyal didn’t even move.

“Let me tell you something, Notouch,” he sneered. “I was fighting my battles while you were pissing your diapers!”

Perivar let his hand drop. He looked at the floor, at the ceiling and the walls. Arla said nothing. If he needed to collect himself, let him. Iyal put her hand on his shoulder.

“Assuming we can get them to take the bait,” said Iyal, “are you willing to help haul him out of there?”

“Where my cousin’s blood has been spilled,” Perivar said, “there will always be revolution.” He looked up at Iyal. “What about Killian?”

She smiled softly. “He’s still at the docks, booking us passage to New Dawn. I’m inclined to go out with a bang.”

Perivar squeezed Iyal’s hand tightly and nodded to Arla. “Come on. I’m inclined to show the Vitae who they’re really up against.”

“It is the vigilant of our grandchildren who will find the world we lost. The rest are as doomed as we are.”

Fragment from “The Beginning of the Flight,” from the Rhudolant Vitae private history Archives

T
HE RIGHT HALF OF
Winema’s world gleamed. Her witness’s camera was calibrated to respond to radiation both above and below the spectrum that her natural eye could detect. Through her right eye, she saw the trace glow from the optic matter, the lusterless patches of traditional solids, the distinctive auras around each of the core inhabitants as they passed her respectfully by.

Through her left eye, she saw the faces and the artworks and the walls that made up the core to the rest of the Vitae that she walked among.

There are two worlds, she was told when the tests determined her memory good enough to allow her to train as a Witness, the constructed world and the chaotic world. It is the eyes of a Witness that bring them together.

The Memory Holding was at the center of the cores, just outside the axis. The Holding’s door registered Winema’s active camera the way other security systems registered non-Witness retina or fingerprint patterns. The camera’s security wires were clones of her nervous system. It was powered by her heart and mind, just like the rest of her body. If she was not the one wearing it, it would not be functioning.

There were technologies that would have allowed a camera to be implanted inside her eye. Her mind could have been altered to act as a recorder. But then she would have no longer been Vitae. She would have been Aunorante Sangh.

The door was a layer of solid that slid away from a layer of optical matter. Winema stepped through the shimmering stuff, causing its minute crystals to ripple through the light curtain that held them in place. No one but Witnesses saw the inside of the Holding.

The twenty-four Witnesses ringed the chamber, standing in their specially customized alcoves. Each body was encased in a metallic skeleton that made sure its limbs were properly supported regularly and exercised. The polymer tubes that fed into their veins kept internal nutrient and waste levels constant. If the power failed, or even fluctuated, they would all be released and the Holding evacuated. The only process that could not be circumvented was age. At 120, the Witnesses still died and had to be replaced from the mobile ranks.

Winema walked into the center of the circular chamber, tracked by twenty-four cameras and twenty-four eyes. She stood straight and proud under the gaze of the Memory. She did not have to hand them her name. They already knew her better than she knew herself.

“I have the names for the chain of Imperialists in my line of sight,” she said.

Witness 14 opened his mouth. There was a delicate hiss as the joints on his skeleton responded to the movement. “Recite.” The eyes blinked, but the cameras did not.

“Wife Caril Hanr Sone of the
Grand Errand,
Ambassador-Beholden Paral Idenam Or of the
Grand Errand,
Bio-technician Uary Nearch of the
Grand Errand,
Contractor Kelat Hruska of the Hundredth Core.” Winema enunciated the names clearly, adding each traitor to the Memory.

“Ambassador Basq Hanr Sone of the
Grand Errand?”
asked Witness 20.

“No connection,” said Winema. “They have been using him as a cover and blind for their activities. He is guilty only of being unobservant.”

“Exile Jahidh Hanr Sone?”

“Still in operation on the Home Ground. Believed to be seeking and sorting useful artifacts in addition to delaying the Unifiers’ actions.”

The eyes blinked again. The delicate threads between the alcoves could not carry thoughts, but they could carry impressions. Their hunches ran from Witness to Witness like the electric current ran through the room, carried between the cameras using neurografted transmission wires that were even more sophisticated than Winema’s own. It was the closest the Vitae had been able to come to mastering telepathy.

“Which of these are necessary to the Reclamation in their current positions?” asked Witness 24.

“Uary Nearch, Kelat Hruska, Jahidh Hanr Sone.”

“Justify Jahidh Ham Sone,” said Witness 1.

The camera eyes reflected Winema’s face and form twenty-four times as the Memory watched her carefully.

“His efforts discovered the artifact Stone in the Wall and began the understanding of the relationship between the mechanically derived and human-derived artifacts. He is motivated to make the final connection and it is highly likely he has leads into the truth that our Contractors and Ambassadors yet lack.”

The Memory absorbed her statement. The silence was a comforting weight on Winema. Her camera eye tracked the room. The lines between the alcoves glowed violet as the Memory communed with itself. She was being considered seriously.

“Recommend disposition of Caril Ham Sone and Paral Idenam Or,” said Witness 10.

“It is my recommendation that they be collected publicly. This will slow current Imperialist activities within the Vitae Encampments. I further recommend that they be given to the Shessel World Enclave for their permanent exile in order to reinforce the impression of the Vitae’s willingness to cooperate fully in Quarter Galaxy civilization now that we have returned to the Home Ground. We will require resources and diplomatic connections until emigration and settlement is completed.”

The glow she saw with her right eye intensified. The camera eyes clicked back and forth as the Memory listened.

“The Memory concurs with this assessment,” said Witness 1. “Formal Witness Winema Avin-Dae Uratae, you are assigned to the collection of Caril Hanr Sone and Paral Idenam Or. The Memory shall transfer their new status to the Assembly.”

Winema closed her eyes and made full obeisance to the Memory.

Uary pressed the recorder sheet into the park wall and watched while the tidy lines of green text printed themselves across the milky grey surface. The park and the corridor were filled with the amber lights that created ship’s dawn. No shadows except his own crossed the wall and the only sound in the whole park was his breathing.

Technically, there was no punishment for writing anything in a public park. Technically, many things were true. Technically, by now he should have been smuggled onto Kethran and into an Imperialist lab, where the female artifact recovered from the Home Ground waited for him. Technically, Jahidh should have already mapped the relationship between the mechanically derived and human-derived artifacts on the Home Ground.