by Sarah Zettel
“Yes, yes.” Byvant rubbed her left ear, tugging at it and smoothing it back. “But I fear we are betraying our sisters.”
“No,” said Ishth firmly. “They betrayed us.”
Chapter VIII
Senejess watched her reflection in the night-darkened glass. Her ghost-self's ears were turned toward the door, waiting for it to open. Her eyes were a little too wide, and her nostrils flared irregularly. She looked alert and more than a bit tired, which was appropriate for right now. Her skin was tense and smooth, rippling only a little to betray her nervousness. The aquamarine robe she had picked for this evening looked good against her smooth, blue skin. Her belly filled the guard that swelled against the fabric. She realized proudly that she could carry another bearing of children.
Behind her own reflection, the window showed the assemblage ordered by the Queens-of-All. They waited clumped together in groups of sisters and allies. Everybody wore serious clothing, straight robes of dark blues, greens, or browns. They also all wore studious expressions, as if they were debating in the Council Hall instead of nibbling dainties off serving tables. All had been ordered to wait back here in this bare room with its eclectic collection of sofas, lanterns, and scuffed tables, and all had been paraded by the debating chamber to see that it was filled with petitioners: mothers, sisters, and daughters of every blood and name. These gave their pleas to a small army of clerks and assistants, who dutifully recorded every detail for the Queens’ attention.
The Queens themselves were in there right now, issuing peremptory orders to the arms-sisters, writing decrees to be posted on the debate walls, and trembling in sympathy with every grief-stricken tale they heard.
Which was not hard to do. Senejess had peered in the debating chamber with Armetrethe, and feelings of fear tinged with barest hope had washed over her like a tidal wave. It had taken everything she had not to run in there and scoop the nearest sister into her arms.
Not that the Queens had bypassed the Council. They had presented their requests to the budget and interior committees as was perfectly proper. The requests were almost impossible to reject. Money for blankets, for hospital repair, for water purification. Requests to go scavenging in unused buildings were more controversial, but bands of mothers and sisters had already started, and a quiet talk with the All-Mother of the arms-sisters showed that she was unwilling to send her people in to stop it. So, they'd ratified it, as long as the activities stayed peaceful, and they had.
Senejess had no idea how Praeis had done this thing, but Praeis had done it. Praeis and her allies, most of them former arms-sisters or in the family of arms-sisters, had scurried about bearing messages, instructions, and even orders from all quarters and somehow, in just five days, they had managed to undermine the Council's entire position and get the praises of the Queens shouted in the streets again.
Everyone in this room had felt the change in the peninsula's mood. That was why they had all let themselves be shut in here to wait on the pleasure of their Majestic Sisters.
How did we lose control so quickly? How did we not notice these simple things would bring our sisters flocking? Her ears crumpled. We thought it was just the Queens who had been isolated.
Senejess's toes arched inside her soft shoes, as if they were trying to dig into the varnished floor. She watched the reflected gathering and saw Armetrethe detach herself from quiet conversation with Ie and Pilea Waun. Armetrethe stepped delicately, almost mincingly, up to the window.
“Sister.” Armetrethe laid her one hand on Senejess's shoulder. Her stump fluttered under her neatly closed sleeve. “Your thoughts are missed.”
Senejess shook her head. Her ears turned sideways, seeking something in the whispered conversation that her mind wasn't aware of yet.
“Until the Queens-of-All see fit to give us our orders,” she said, loud enough for the room to hear, “I don't believe there's much to discuss.”
Someone laughed. Senejess looked for the reflection. Kieret Hur.
“Very prudent,” said Kieret, grinning. “Prudent as always, Senejess Shin. Wait for developments while the rest of us scheme our schemes without any information. Careful planning, it is what your family is known for.”
Armetrethe's ears dropped flat against her scalp. “Were you referring to any particular part of our family, Wise Sister?” She drew the courtesy out sharp and cold.
“Certainly not, Wise Sister. I meant only to be complimentary to the blood and soul.” Kieret smiled softly and waggled her ears.
Slowly, Senejess turned around. “Yes, the blood and soul in this room is special, is it not? All of us have stood out against the Queens. All of us have spent the last year trying to work around this insane Confederation and show what a bad idea it is.” She let her voice drop. “All of us are being brought to heel like recalcitrant children. All of us are very close to losing property, liberty, and family if we aren't careful.”
Kieret opened her mouth, but the room's single door opened at the same time. Eyes and ears swiveled to the entrance of the three black-robed Queens-of-All.
“I am always pleased to hear you speak of caution, Senejess Shin.” Vaier Byu glided across the room in front of Senejess to accept a glass of tea from one of the servers. “It is admirable and necessary in these times.”
Armetrethe closed her eyes and raised her empty hand up respectfully. The stump of her arm stirred under the cloth of her shirt. “If I may inquire, Majestic Sister, what times are these?”
“The worst times.” Ueani Byu picked up a glass off the serving table, inspected its contents, and gulped them down.
“Not quite the worst,” said Aires Byu, from her position in the doorway. She skirted the gathering, surveying it with a discerning eye. Senejess felt her skin twitch. She had the distinct feeling her Majestic Sister Aires was memorizing who was standing near whom. “Although they have been bleak, with our Great Family teetering in despair and division. But now our Great Family has rallied with hope and confidence.” She sat down on one of the room's three low sofas, without relaxing either her spine or her vigilance.
‘It's about time.” Ueani Byu rubbed her ears and the back of her head. Senejess glanced at Armetrethe. Armetrethe closed her nostrils briefly. She didn't trust this sudden casualness either.
“We have done more than anyone in history. Ancestors Mine!” Ueani Byu spat on the floor. “We have stood arm in arm with the Getesaph. We have sworn to grind out anyone who disagrees with our Confederation. Not for blood, not for property or vengeance, but because they disagree with us!” She slammed her glass down on the serving table. “Look how well the Humans teach us their ways already!” Hands, feet, and ears all curled, her skin spasmed with anger.
“Ueani, we are dying.” Vaier Byu laid her long, chapped hand on her sister's wrist. “The Getesaph will be paid back for everything they have done, but we must be alive to make it happen.”
“Do you not agree, Senejess Shin?” inquired Aires Byu from her station on the sofa.
It was all too perfect, with each Majestic Sister playing a caricature of herself. Senejess found herself wondering how long they had rehearsed this scene. However, she just raised her hands and closed her eyes. “My Majestic Sister knows just how perfectly I agree with all that has been said.”
“Perfectly and precisely, Senejess Shin.” From her private darkness, Senejess heard the edge in Aires Byu's calm voice. “Because you know how little we can afford to lay siege to each other's standings now, when we are all needed to watch the collective health and well-being of t'Theria. Our familial-sisters have taught us this.”
A low murmur drifted through the room. If it wasn't cautious agreement, it certainly sounded like it. See, Majestic Sister, our side can act, too.
Armetrethe cleared her throat. “If I may ask, Majestic Sisters, how long do we plan to continue the flow of largesse to ease our familial-sisters’ fears?”
Senejess opened her eyes. Aires Byu stared hard at Armetrethe, but Armetrethe just st
ood there, her demeanor as innocent as her tone.
“As long as they are afraid and ill,” growled Ueani Byu.
“We will attack their problems. We will lead, and we will require that our Noblest Sisters do the same.”
If Aires Byu's attentions were like having a scalpel used on you, Senejess thought, Ueani Byu's were a club: blunt, unmistakable, and, for certain jobs, eminently practical.
“Can we expect new directives then?” asked Kieret Hur. Senejess, and the rest of the room, turned toward her. Senejess's eyes and nostrils widened. She wouldn't have thought Kieret had that much insolence in her. Kieret closed her eyes, almost as if in pain. “Will there be instructions from our Majestic Sisters as to whom we are to lead and how?”
“This will be discussed,” said Aires quietly. Her attention focused completely on Kieret. Even from where she stood, Senejess could see the Kieret's skin ripple uneasily.
Senejess swallowed her own fear in a lump, closed her eyes, and said, “And the Getesaph, Majestic Sisters? They will understand how important it is that our familial-sisters not be afraid?”
Another murmur rippled around the room; this one was shocked.
“I am not sure I understand, Noblest Sister,” said Aires Byu pleasantly.
“It is just that we have never before been successful in persuading the Getesaph to take the wishes of our sisters into account.” She let the sentence sink in. “I was unaware that anything had changed. After all, they've shifted the relocation schedule without even asking the Confederation of which they are a part.”
That got them. Senejess had made sure that fact hadn't been let out past the preparatory committee. She'd wanted it for this meeting. The murmur became an outraged cry, followed fast by demands for more information.
“Open your eyes, Senejess Shin,” said Vaier Byu.
Senejess did as she was told. She searched her Queen's face for some hint of what was really going on. All she saw was a tired mother aging toward the Change.
“You fear the Getesaph far too much, Noblest Sisters,” she said. “It is a failing of your family, as we know from the conduct of your recently pardoned sister, Praeis. Would your blood commit yet more excesses because you fear the ‘Esaph so much? How many more t'Therian lives will your blood sacrifice to this fear?”
Rage poured into Senejess's veins, and the world became a blur of red shadows. “You dare!” she cried. “You dare when you—”
Armetrethe grabbed her wrist. Her sister's touch was a cold wind on her inner fire. “Finish your sentence, my Sister,” Armetrethe whispered in her ear, “and the conflict on our hands will be a civil war.”
Senejess panted wordlessly. Armetrethe kept her hold vise-tight.
“Majestic Sisters, Sister-Councilors, all, I beg you to forgive my pouch-sister. Her shame at the actions of Praeis Shin t'Theria has preyed on her for many years. It distracts her.” Armetrethe bowed her head. “She even, as you see, sometimes blames our Majestic Sisters who sent Praeis into that battle.”
The noise in the room gradually subsided. As it did, Senejess's vision cleared, and she could see Vaier Byu in front of her again. The Queen's face was tight, but it was clear she accepted the explanation. Senejess slid her gaze sideways toward Aires Byu and saw a triumphant quiver in her ears.
“Of course we forgive you,” said Aires Byu, all magnanimity. “We are all under considerable strain, are we not? The next few days will test the mettle and unity of the Queens and all our Councilors.” She stood. “We will be calling a special session in the Council Hall tomorrow to hear the final plans of the preparatory committee as wed as to discuss how we will further assist our familial-sisters to spend the remainder of their wait in peace and comfort.” She dipped her ears to the assembly. “You are dismissed.”
There was nothing to do but leave. Armetrethe still held Senejess's wrist as they filed out at the head of the procession of chastened, thoughtful Councilors.
Kieret Hur scurried up beside Armetrethe. “Sister Councilors,” she said, a little breathlessly. “We are returning to the Council Hall to talk about this. Will you join us?”
“Later,” said Armetrethe, before Senejess could even open her mouth. “First my sister, who is overtired, must rest.”
“Of course.” Kieret dipped her ears. “We will expect you later then.” She fell back, and Senejess was grateful.
They left the Home of Queens and were halfway across the courtyard, when Senejess finally said, “Sister, you are bruising me.”
Armetrethe relaxed her hand. “I'm sorry, Sister.” Her sleeve billowed as her stump beat uneasily at the cloth.
Senejess took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her toes curled and flexed. “What are we going to do?”
Armetrethe glanced sharply at the arms-sisters patrolling the wall around the courtyard. “We are going to take the car and start for home, Sister. What else can we do? The Queens have won this skirmish.”
Senejess closed her mouth. Armetrethe led her to the battered frame car that served the family as transport. Senejess drove through the gates and out onto the pocked streets.
They rode together in silence well into the grasslands. They came to a section of road bordered by the wall of a compound Senejess knew had been abandoned when the family had died of plague. She pulled the car over, shut the engine off, and turned to her sister.
“What is it, Sister? What couldn't you say inside the Queens’ wall?”
Armetrethe looked down the twisted road ahead of them. “If there is doubt that the Getesaph are still as much of a threat as ever, we must remove that doubt.” She focused ears and eyes on Senejess. “We must find out why they've changed the schedule.”
All the muscles across Senejess's chest tightened. “How?”
“One of us goes to the Hundred Isles and finds out,” said Armetrethe simply.
“That's impossible, Sister,” Senejess slapped Armetrethe's arm lightly. “Confederation or not, we could never get there in time to do anything useful.”
“Praeis could. The Humans would fly her.”
Senejess sat there for a moment, her ears straining as if trying to catch unspoken words.
“Sister, Praeis will not go.”
“Of course not.” Armetrethe rubbed her sister's back. “Think! We will write a letter to her pet Human, Lynn. Lynn will make the arrangements. You will go. I would, but,” she raised her stump, “Praeis has both arms. This much might be noticed.”
“But surely they'll check…”
“Check what?” Armetrethe tilted her ears forward. “They do not have any, what are they called? databases on us. I've heard them complain about it. To them, our names are what we say they are. They know what we tell them.”
Senejess felt the idea. It warmed her veins. She shook her head. “Praeis will call them as soon as she realizes what has happened.”
Armetrethe took her hand. “Not if we convince one of her daughters to go with you. That way, if she betrays us, she jeopardizes her own daughter. Even she is not that monstrous.”
Senejess froze. “Arme, we cannot jeopardize her children. The Ancestors would rear up out of the ground at us.”
Armetrethe's face had gone smooth and hard. “We are jeopardizing them by leaving them with her. They have come to live with us, but they have no understanding. They are as ignorant and cold as Humans. If we do not pull them out of their ignorance, they will be among the first to die.”
“But they will not go without their mother's consent…”
“They would. Resaime is most likely, I think. A little persuasion, and she will see this as an adventure.”
Senejess felt herself relax. She squeezed her sister's hand and laughed. “Then we should get home at once, Sister.”
She unlocked the engine and fired it up. They drove down the road, silent, but this time easy in their minds.
“It's good!” called Resaime. Jiau shinnied down the rain gutter, and all the cousins crowded around, gazing up at her handiwork.
The concave comm transceiver sat firmly clamped to the corner of the eaves.
Theia wrapped her arm around her sister. Res was loving this. The comm station had arrived that morning, carried by Humans, in a van sent by Lynn. The cousins were all extremely reluctant to let Humans in to install the unit. They were afraid of being poisoned. So, Res had assured them that she and Theia could put the unit together.
There really wasn't much to it; yank off a whole lot of organic packaging and assure the cousins it was perfectly all right to bury the stuff. It made pretty good fertilizer. Then, they needed to clamp the transceiver somewhere it wouldn't be overshadowed by a wall or a tree. Wiring the station into the house had been trickier, but, again that was something Res was good at, and there wasn't any danger in messing around with a knife and the house's extremely old-fashioned carrier wires until darkness fell and the electricity came on.
Doing everything by hand during the day had been hard to get used to. The place had running water, but everything had to be heated using charcoal or wood, unless you wanted to wait until after dark. She and Res had been learning the intricacies of hand-washing, hand-cooking, hand-sewing, and hand-hauling of more stuff man she could easily name.
The only place they hadn't had to be constantly watched and instructed was the garden. That had been their job at home… in the colony, and Mother had never been willing to lay out for the fancy tools some of their neighbors coveted. As a result, they could turn soil, dig a row, and pull weeds with the best of them.
Everybody knew they only had two or three weeks until the relocation started, and so they seemed to be trying to keep as busy as possible.
“Wait until we get to the ships,” Res whispered on the sleeping mats at night “Then we'll really show them.”
Res had become increasingly interested in “showing them,” something, anything, and Theia still couldn't understand why. They had enough other things to worry about. Their mother was going through the Change, in the name of the Ancestors, and trying to delay it with a hormone compound they weren't sure would work. The aunts were not acting like sisters to Mother. Mother was all alone except for her daughters, but Res didn't seem able to concentrate on that. She just worried about impressing their cousins. Theia had tried to ask her why, but Res wouldn't say. So Theia could only stand near her sister and feel her own skin shiver.