The D’neeran Factor (94 page)

And when the
Far-Flying Bird
had been on its journey only shortly, certain 'Unans came and took away the gifts made to Rubee and Awnlee, and they killed Rubee and Awnlee in the sight of 'Anarilporot, who grieved for them and grieves for them and will always grieve for them. And 'Anarilporot also would have died, except that the Master of Chaos was present, and because of certain things 'Anarilporot said to the 'Unans with the Master's encouragement, they did not kill her, but took her away from the
Far-Flying Bird.
And nonetheless she would have died, but she was saved by certain other 'Unans who were enemies of those who had killed Rubee and Awnlee.

In time 'Anarilporot came to Uskos without Rubee and Awnlee, but with the 'Unans who had saved her, and also with gifts which the Master had placed ready to her hand. Yet when she came to the land of Ell, 'Anarilporot was received
without courtesy, and concluded therefore that the Master of Chaos had come before her; yet where is the Master not present? And so the story of the Journey of Rubee, which is also the story of the Friendship of Awnlee, and yet also the story of the Fate of 'Anarilporot, is not ended; for its ending lies in the hand of the Master of Chaos, which even now moves to write it.

Past Norsa and the other beings who examined Hanna, there was a window. While daylight remained she could see the towers of the City of the Center through it. Later, when it became dark, the tops of the towers were still visible; they were illuminated at night, and hung in the black sky like a fleet holding steadfast over the city.

She answered every question that was put to her without hesitation or evasion. She was not allowed to ask any in return. “Later, perhaps,” Norsa said, “if we are satisfied.” He asked most of the questions, but the others also participated; they were, Hanna recognized, a committee.

Night deepened, came to its turning, and began the slow progress toward morning. The persons of the committee melted away one by one. Hanna was given food and drink, but they did not interest her. She began to feel the weight of exhaustion in every muscle; she kept her head upright with conscious effort. There was weariness in Norsa's face as well. At last there were pauses between questions, and the pauses grew longer—and in them Hanna saw that the tension attending her presence had eased. Therefore during one halt she said, “I wish to offer only cooperation; yet I do not understand the reason for this sparse welcome. Since first we met in the wildlands I have known there is in you hostility and mistrust. This was not what Rubee gave me to expect, and therefore I knew that the Master had come here before me; but the shape of this occurrence is not clear.”

Norsa regarded her with caution. He answered, however, “Other 'Unans came here before you.”

She let out breath in a little puff. Now that her fear was confirmed she was nearly too tired to react. Yet she must start now, with Norsa and the Polity's representatives, to insist on her rights of kinship—though in the face of this reception, they seemed dubious.

“Where are the other 'Unans?” she said. “It is necessary that I speak with them.” Absurd that they had not come seeking her!

“They are gone,” Norsa said. “I do not know where they have gone.”

“Gone?” She did not understand him. “When will they return?”

“I do not think they will return,” he said in a curious tone.

Of course they would. “Why did they go?” she said.

“Their reasons were excellent.”

Hanna said, “I feel that I play the Game of Scant Deduction. Will you speak to me plainly? I have made it clear that we are not the official representatives of our people, and I have had the thought that those representatives might have preceded us here; yet you have asked many questions which those persons would have answered fully, and in your description of their actions I perceive anomalies.”

“Those who came
said
they were official representatives,” Norsa said doubtfully. “Yet they did not behave as we expected such representatives to behave. Also they said that 'Anarilporot was dead.”

He rose and went out of the room, leaving Hanna to the care of guards. She was groggy with fatigue and was not sure she had heard his last words right; what she thought he had said made no sense.

All the other persons of the committee had gone away to bed. Two silent guards were left; perhaps they always worked at night, because they did not seem tired, but regarded Hanna with lively interest. If she moved aggressively, though, no doubt they would react quickly enough.

Norsa came back with a small enameled box in his changing hands. He put the box down in front of Hanna and opened it and took something out. “Do you know what this is?” he asked.

She stared at the golden cylinder with its ring of jewels at the top. She knew what it was but rejected the notion; it was preposterous. She put out her hand and Norsa gave the thing to her. She looked at the engraving and saw that she had been right in the first place.

“But this is mine! Rubee gave it to me! How did you—? It must have been the official party who came and—”

An explosive memory rose into her mind, shocking her so that she transmitted it to Norsa without warning.
Half unconscious, she lay stunned with loss while a thin man reached for the circlet of jewels
—

“
They
came?” She was incredulous. “Those who murdered Rubee and Awnlee?”

“That is how it appears,” Norsa said. He added, “Please do not startle me like that!”

“I regret…” The words of apology came by themselves; it was hard to absorb the truth. Norsa regarded her calmly, though with some wariness, as if he expected her to fling another memory of violence at his head.

She said, “This gives me great amazement, Norsa. Now I know why you did not give us any welcome. These persons may have behaved grievously. Will you tell me of their acts?”

Norsa debated within himself, and Hanna saw that he was about to embark on a catalog of grievances. She waited with considerable apprehension.

Norsa said at last, “We made them welcome. There were doubts from the first. They did not ask the questions that would be expected of beings come first to a new world; yet we had no experience with such beings, and thought our expectations perhaps were wrong. Nor did they wish to answer questions; I have learned more in this night with you than in many days with them. And when they had been here for a time, at the end, they set about destruction. They took precious goods from Ell and also from other lands. In this endeavor they destroyed all that was in their way; and at the last, in the burning of a great costumerie, several hapless persons who labored in that place were killed.”

Norsa had seen some of the destruction at first hand. Hanna saw it now in his thoughts. She bowed her head.

“After they did those things…” Norsa looked at the object in Hanna's hands. “There is the course,” he said. “It was evident that we must set forth and follow it, and at the end find out their reasons. But we have not yet done anything, because there has been much discussion of what we might find. Some among us have said: ‘Withdraw; give up space; stay at home!' Others have said: ‘We must have vengeance, and assert our honor and vigor!' And others have said, ‘These persons in the depths of space know of our
existence, and also our whereabouts; and so, if we do not seek them out, they will continue to seek us.' And still others have answered, ‘Indeed that is true, and they will prey on us.' And so we have debated, and done nothing. Yet perhaps now that you have come, you can tell us the motive for these events, which we do not understand.”

Hanna was vividly reminded of Rubee. She could have wept.

She said, “I do not know the reason. Perhaps they wish to sell the precious things they took, as surely they meant to do with the gifts which were taken from the
Far-Flying Bird.
I do not know how they could sell them, or where, for already they are hunted by the true representatives of human beings for their actions on the
Far-Flying Bird.
They would have to go to a far place indeed, far from law; and there is no place so far as to evade human law, not in a matter such as this. There can be no escape for them, Norsa. It must seem to you that humans have little regard for law; do not even my own actions, as I have described them to you, indicate so? But indeed there is in humans a great impulse toward law, and the humans who did these things will be found and, at the least, confined. But I cannot tell you more than that, because I do not know any more.”

She spoke with her thought as well as her tongue, and when she was finished she saw that her simple honesty had convinced Norsa. They had come to an understanding at last. There were no more difficulties in the way.

But Norsa said, incredibly, “One of those who came before is still here.”

“Still here?” she repeated.

“One of those who came remained behind. Was it by his choice? Was it by the will of another? I do not know. I have been unable to determine the truth. None of those persons spoke any Uskosian tongue, but used devices which translated their words into those of Ell, and the language of Ell into words they understood. They took all the devices away with them, and we have not been able to ask questions of the one who remained behind.”

“I must see him,” said Hanna in a dream.

“Immediately.”

They went out into the night. The guards accompanied them; Norsa might be softening, but he was not a fool. It
was summer in the City of the Center, and night closed around Hanna like warm water. The air was clean and before she got into a shiny vehicle with Norsa and her guards, she stopped and breathed deeply. She had been in space too long. The air of a living world caressed her cheeks. In her weariness she could have fallen asleep in the gentle night, floating in it.

Yet as they rode through the quiet streets, and she thought about what she was doing, her chest was tight. Which of the men of the
Avalon
would it be? Not Castillo, surely; more likely a man he had deliberately abandoned. It could not be Juel, whom she had killed.
One down:
the palm of her hand itched. She wished for a weapon. Not a stunner; something deadly.

They drew up before a great building which looked just like the one they had left, and walked through its spacious galleries. Norsa spoke and Hanna answered at random, until they stopped before a door and he said, “Have you too much weariness? You do not hear all I say.”

“It is not weariness.”

“Ah?”

“It is rage.”

“Rage? Why?”

“It is because of a thing that was done to me. I wish to kill,” she said honestly. “I may kill this human, Norsa.”

Norsa said, “We will not let you kill this creature. If that is your desire, I will not even let you see him.”

She wondered where her sense of civilized behavior had gone. Then she thought:
I
will be civilized. I will not kill him now, whichever it is. That would be an insult to Norsa. I will kill him later.

“Let us go in,” she said. “You may observe me. If I do something that causes you agitation, you will stop me.”

They went into an antechamber where they waited for some minutes while the nightwatch went to wake up the man in a farther room. But presently the watchman came back and said, “He will not come out.”

“Then we will go in,” Norsa said, and they went into the next room and Hanna saw Henrik Gaaf.

She was startled. He was not. He was far past ordinary surprise.

The room was sparsely furnished and there was a pallet
which might have served as a bed, but Gaaf huddled in a pile of coverlets on the floor. He had his back to a corner. He was emaciated and pale, and he blinked at her and a slow smile spread over his face.

Hanna took a step toward him. Norsa said quietly, “'Anarilporot!”

“I will not harm him,” Hanna said. “This one gave me a kindness. The Master encouraged him to do so and therefore I lived, though it was meant for me to die as Rubee and Awnlee died. I will not harm this one.”

She took another step, though with reluctance. It seemed that something was going to happen that she would not like. It did. Gaaf came up out of his swaddling and threw himself on her feet. She backed away and he caught at her legs so that she lost her balance and sat down abruptly face to face with him. She had looked once into a lava lake that seethed and boiled. It came back to her because that was what she saw inside Gaaf. He pawed at her face and hair and she wanted to hit him and escape—but she did not, though her skin crawled. She ground her teeth and set herself to endure him; she studied him through her revulsion. He smiled and crooned and his eyes had an expression she had never seen before. He patted her shoulders and then her breasts; she twitched violently and caught his hands to keep them off her. He was content with holding her hands. He whispered and whispered and she sorted out the words that ran together. “Came for me, you, you…! Not alone. Not alone here any more…”