by Gene Wolfe
“The back room’s empty, too.” Trotter had stopped before a door. He gulped. “You can wait if you want to, only I close—”
She shook her head.
“When you leave. After that, all right? If anybody called Urus comes in, I’ll tell him you’re here.” Trotter opened the door and gaped at the filthy, bearded man at the table inside.
With exaggerated politeness, Urus rose and pulled out a chair for Abanja. As she sat, Trotter mumbled, “I forgot the calde let ’em out. A lot can’t hardly walk.”
“I sprung myself,” Urus told him. “Get me somethin’ to eat. Put it on her tab.”
Still smiling, Abanja nodded.
When the door had closed behind Trotter, Urus said, “Thanks for gettin’ the bottle ’n standin’ me a meal. You’re the dimber damber, lady.” His voice became confidential. “What I got to tell you is I’m all right too. You treat Urus brick ’n he’ll treat you stone. Ain’t you goin’ to put your barker up?”
“No. Trotter didn’t know you were in here.”
“He’d of wanted me to drink, ’n I didn’t have the gelt. Lily with you, see? Yeah, I been in the pits. I just got out. Yeah, I’m flat. Only you need me, lady, so you’re goin’ to give me ten cards—”
She laughed.
“’Cause I’m goin’ to tell you a lot. Then I’m goin’ to find out a lot more, ’n you ’n me’ll knot up again, see?”
“Open that and pour yourself as much as you want,” she told him. “I feel sorry for you, so I’m giving you a drink, and food if the barman has any.”
“You know who Spider is?”
“Should I?”
“Shag yes. You got spies here. Spider knows ’em all. He knows me, too, only he don’t know I’m workin’ for you.”
“You aren’t. Not yet. To whom does this Spider report, assuming that he exists?”
“Councillor Potto. He’s Potto’s right hand. You ever hear of Guan? How ’bout Hyrax? Sewellel? Paca?”
Abanja looked thoughtful. “Some of those names may be familiar to me.”
“They’re dead, all of ’em, ’n I know what happened to ’em. Spider was their jefe, ’n he ain’t. I know where he is ’n what he’s doin’. I could bring you. I don’t scavy you’d want me to, only I could. You twig they nabbed General Mint?”
“She’s free now.” Abanja holstered her needler. “That’s what I’ve been told.”
“You don’t cap to it.”
“I believe what I see.”
Urus grinned. “Pure keg, lady. All right, it’s the lily, she’s loose. I could show her to you ’n throw in Spider, ’cause they’re together. Only I’m like you, see? ’n what I want to see’s gelt.”
Abanja took a card from her card case and pushed it toward Urus, across the stained and splintered old table.
With a furtive glance into the next room, Chenille tapped the surface of the glass with her forefinger. A floating gray face appeared. “Yes, madame.”
“Keep your voice down, all right?” Chenille herself was whispering. “There’s somebody asleep in the big bed.”
“Generalissimo Siyut madame. She is well within my field of view.”
“That’s right, and you wouldn’t want to wake her up, would you? So keep it down.”
“I shall, madame. I suggest, however, that you close the door. It would provide additional security, madame.”
Chenille shook her head, her raspberry curls bobbing. “I got to know if she’s waking up. Pay attention. You know the Calde’s Palace?”
“Certainly, madame.”
“I’ve asked three or four times on the glass there, see? He let me, the calde did, I’m a friend of his. What I want to know is are you the same one? The monitor I talked to there?”
“No, madame. Each glass has its own, madame, though I can utilize others, and consult their monitors if need be.”
“That’s good, ’cause he couldn’t find Auk for me, ever, and I saw this glass of yours when me and Generalissimo Siyuf came in, and I’ve been wanting to try it ever since, only not where she could hear ’cause I’m looking for Auk. I know there’s a lot of Auks. You don’t have to tell me that. The one I want’s the one that lives in the Orilla, the one they call Auk the Prophet now. Real big, not too bad looking, broken nose—”
“Yes, madame. I have located him. It was a matter of no difficulty, the word prophet being a sufficient clue. Do you wish to speak with him?”
“I — wait. If I speak to him, he can see me, right?”
Like a floating bottle disturbed by a ripple, the gray face bobbed in nothingness. “You might postpone your conversation until you are dressed, madame. If you prefer.”
“That’s all right. Just tell me where he is.”
“In the Grand Manteion, madame. It is two streets north and one west, or so I am informed.”
“Yeah, I know. Listen, he’s there now? Auk’s there right now, in the Grand Manteion?”
“Correct, madame.”
“Is he all right? He’s not dead or anything?”
“He appears somewhat fatigued, madame. Otherwise I judge him in excellent health. You do not care to converse?”
“I think it would be better if he didn’t know about me and the generalissimo. Better if I don’t shove it at him, anyhow, and even if I close the door he’s bound to want to know what I’m doing here.”
The gray face nodded sagely. “Prudent, madame.”
“Yeah, I think so. Wait up, I got to think.”
“Gladly, madame.” For nearly a minute, there was no sound in the Lyrichord Room save Siyuf’s hoarse respiration.
At last Chenille announced, “This is going to be one tough job for you, Monitor.”
“We thrive upon adversity, madame.”
“Good, I’ve got some for you. I want to get word to a lady named Orchid. Get her, or get anybody that might be able to get a message to her. What time is it?”
“Two twenty-one, madame. It is Phaesday morning, madame. Shadeup is less than four hours distant.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. If you can’t do it, just tell me. I won’t blame you a bit.”
“I shall make the utmost effort, madame, but Orchid is also a widely employed appellation. Additional information may be of assistance.”
“Sure. This Orchid’s got a yellow house. It’s on Lamp Street. Music runs right in back, and there’s a pastry shop across the street. Across Lamp Street, I mean. She’s a big fat woman, I guess forty or forty-five.”
“That is sufficient, madame, I have identified her. There is a glass in her private apartments, and she is preparing for bed in the room beyond. Shall I summon her to her glass?”
“I know that glass and it doesn’t work.”
“To the contrary, madame, it is fully operational, though it was out of service for… eighteen years. Would you care to speak with Orchid?”
Chenille nodded, and in half a minute saw Orchid standing in front of her own glass in lacy black pantaloons and a hastily assumed peignoir. “Chen! How’d you get this thing turned on?”
“Never mind, it just is. Orchid, I need a favor, only there’ll be something for you. Maybe a card. Maybe more.”
Orchid, who had been eyeing the rich furnishings of the Lyrichord Room, nodded. “I got my ears up.”
“All right, you see the mort in doss in the next room? She’s the Trivigaunti’s generalissimo. Her name’s Siyuf.”
“You always were lucky, Chen.”
“Maybe. The thing is, I got to beat the hoof. Is Violet riding pretty light?”
Orchid shrngged, plump shoulders rising and falling like pans of dough. “Pretty much. You know how it is, Chen. Where are you?”
“Ermine’s. This’s Room Seven and Nine, get it? It’s a double room, so seven and nine too. Right at the top of the big stairs. Siyuf likes tall dells, she would’ve given me five easy. Five’s nothing to her. Violet ought to get more if she soaps her. Tell her to come uphill and play spoons, tell Siyuf she’s
my pal and I told her what a nice time I’d had, so she thought she’d drop by and party. I’ll leave the door unlocked when I go out.” Chenille’s voice hardened. “Only I get half. Don’t think you’re going to wash me down.”
“Sure thing, Chen.”
“The way I’m set with the calde—” groping the carpet at her feet, Chenille found her bandeau, “I ought to be able to throw something your way pretty often. Only don’t try to wash me, Orchid. The word from me could shut you down.”
Under her breath, Hyacinth asked, “Do you really want to go through with this?”
It seemed too foolish to require a reply, but Silk nodded. “Your Cognizance, you and His Eminence, with Patera Jerboa and Patera Shell, are more than sufficient, surely.”
From Echidna’s dark chapel behind the ambulatory, Maytera Marble called, “Just one moment more, please, Patera. Patera Incus is working as quickly as he can, and — and…”
Like a rumble of thunder, Hammerstone’s deeper voice added, “She wants to be there, and there’s another reason. Hold on, Calde. Patera’s about finished.”
Hyacinth whispered, “We really don’t have to. We could just go somewhere and do it all night. It doesn’t matter to me, honest.” Tick added, “Goo no!” from her arms.
“I’ve revoked your vow of chastity,” Quetzal said; it was impossible to say whether he had overheard her. “You’re still an augur. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly, Your Cognizance.”
Remora smiled in a way he meant to be reassuring. “Can’t, eh? Not even Quetzal. Indelible, hey?”
The Prolocutor himself nodded. “I could enjoin you from augural duties, but you’d still be an augur, Patera Calde.”
“I understand, Your Cognizance.”
“I’m not doing it. You’re relieved of the requirements. You need not say the office and sacrifice, but you can if you want to. You can and should wear the robe. Our citizens have chosen an augur, believing the gods chose for them. We must keep it so. We must sustain their faith. If necessary, we must justify it.”
He glanced at Maytera Mint, who said, “Your Cognizance is wondering whether I retain mine after Pas failed to appear. I don’t know, and it may be weeks before I do. Years, even. I wish Bison were here.”
Spider nodded. “Me, too.”
Spokesman for his master, Oreb croaked, “Do now!”
Hoping his bird had been understood, Silk said, “You told me what took place, General, but I’m afraid I wasn’t listening as closely as I should have been. I couldn’t think beyond my need to obtain His Cognizance’s permission and persuade Hyacinth to accept me. Did Pas actually say that he would grant you a second theophany when you got here?”
“I…” Maytera Mint sighed, her face in her hands. “To tell you the truth, I don’t remember. I thought so.”
Slate put in, “No, he didn’t, sir. He said you take the sarge to the Grand manteion, ’cause my prophet Auk’s there and I mean to tell him how to fix him up. He didn’t say nothing about right away.”
Remora nodded.
Auk said, “He told me he’d teach me, and he will. Only he ain’t yet.” Auk cleared his throat. “This was as queer for me as for Maytera. Worse, when I had to watch what it did to her. Pas had us fetch Patera Jerboa there — that’s Hammerstone and me, and Patera Incus. All right we did, only nothing’s happened yet. I had all my people up here and they’re not here any more, so I guess you know what they think about me after this.”
Oreb sympathized. “Poor man!”
“Only that don’t matter.” Defiantly, Auk looked around at the rest of the impromptu wedding party. “They still think more of me than what I do myself. It’s what they think about the Plan, and that’s what’s hardest, harder even than Maytera. But I’m sticking. If everybody goes, that’s all right, only not me. I’m here, like Pas said, and I’m sticking.”
From deep within the vast nave, far from the light of the dying altar fire, a voice rumbled, “This’s my fault, Calde.” A man taller even than Auk rose, and as he did a misshapen figure sprang to the top of the pew before him.
From his position behind and to the right of Quetzal and Remora, old Patera Jerboa quavered, “My son…”
“Probably you don’t remember me, Calde, only I gave you one on the house once, ’cause you said Pas for Kalan. I’m Gib from the Cock.”
Silk nodded and smiled. “Of course I remember you, Gib; though I admit I didn’t expect to meet you here, and I thought we’d met everyone. Have you been praying?”
“Tryin’, anyhow.” Gib strode down a side aisle, his tame baboon leaping from one pew to the next.
Auk said, “Muzzle it, Gib. You didn’t do anything.”
Silk nodded again. “If by ‘fault’ you mean this delay, the fault certainly isn’t yours, Gib. If anyone is at fault, I am the person. I should have acted much more expeditiously to have Maytera’s hand repaired.”
Tick said, “Ale rat, nod rung.” And Hyacinth, “You always blame yourself. Do you really think you’re the only one in the whorl that makes mistakes?”
“I tagged along after Auk when he went to your place over on Sun,” Gib explained. “Me an’ him’s a old knot. I’d got Bongo here when I broke my flipper, see, Calde? I can’t pluck proper. He’ll do for anybody I say. I figured to sell him when it was fixed.”
“I believe I’m beginning to understand,” Silk said.
“Then Auk says to fetch animals, so I fetched him. Bongo here, that is. Then comin’ up here I thought maybe—”
Jerboa’s trembling hand motioned him to silence. “It was I, Calde. I—” his thin old voice trembled and broke, “have an aversion to offering them. Just an old fool.”
“It isn’t, Patera,” said a sibyl who seemed at least as old. “Calde, they remind him of children. I don’t feel that way, but I know how he feels. We’ve talked about it.”
Patera Shell stepped forward. “Someone brought one once for Thelxiepeia, Calde, a little black monkey with a white head. Patera had me offer it.”
Silk cleared his throat. “In your youth — I understand, Patera Jerboa. Or at least I believe I do. Let us say that I understand as much as I need to. You dissuaded Gib.”
“While we were walking—” Jerboa coughed. “It’s a long, long way. He helped me along. He’s a kind man, Calde. A good man, though he doesn’t look it. I asked him to refrain for my sake. He said he would, and left us to buy a ram. I offered it for him tonight.”
Gib said, “Only I think that’s why Pas won’t come. They kill stuff at weddin’s, don’t they? So you—”
“Auk!” Silk recognized Chenille’s voice before he saw her. “Auk, is this a wedding?” Holding up her skirt, she sprinted down an aisle. “Hello, Putera! Hi, Hy! Congrats! Are you going to marry them, Your Cognizance?”
Quetzal did not reply, smiling at Hammerstone and Maytera Marble as they emerged from Echidna’s chapel. She knelt before him. “I begged your predecessor, Your Cognizance…”
Quetzal’s hairless head bobbed upon his long, wrinkled neck. “My predecessor no longer holds the baculus, Maytera.”
“I begged him to. I implored him, but he wouldn’t. I should tell you that.”
Maytera Mint looked down at her in amazement.
“Your Eminence, you said a moment ago, I overheard you, that not even His Cognizance can unmake an augur. It’s true, I know. But — but…”
“Their vow, eh?” Remora spoke to Silk. “Not indelible, hey? Not as — ah — serious.”
Quetzal inquired, “Do you want me to free you from your vow, Maytera? Yes or no will suffice.”
“Yes, but I really ought—”
“To explain. You’re right. For your own peace of mind, you must. You’ve good sense, Maytera, I’ve seen that. Doesn’t your good sense tell you I’m not the one to whom you owe your explanation? Stand, please. Tell your sib Maytera Mint. Also Maytera Wood and her sibs. Be brief.”
As Maytera Marble got to her feet, Hammerstone said, “We
knew each other a long time ago. You remember, Calde? I told you before you gave me the slip. Her name was Moly then.”
Maytera Marble spoke to Maytera Mint and the other sibyls in a voice so soft that Silk could scarcely hear her. “I was the maid, the sibyls’ maid, when the first bios moved into the city. I got our cenoby ready for them, and in those days I used to look like — like Dahlia, I nearly said, sib, but you never knew Dahlia. Like Teasel, a little.” She laughed nervously. “Can you imagine me looking like Teasel? But I did, then.”
Still staring, Maytera Mint managed to nod.
“There were six then. Six sibyls on Sun Street. I didn’t have a room, you see. I don’t really need one. But there were never more than six, and as time went on, fewer. Five and then four, then three. And then — and then only two, as it was with us, dear, dear sib, after I died.”
The youngest sibyl from Brick Street started to object, glanced around at the others, and thought better of it.
Maytera Marble displayed a string of yellowed prayer beads. “Just Maytera Betel and I. These were hers. They’re ivory.” She lifted her head, a smile and a plea. “The chain is silver. She was a fine, fine woman.”
“Girl cry,” Oreb informed Silk, although no tears streaked Maytera Marble’s smooth metal face.
“We couldn’t do it all. There was just the two of us and young Patera Pike. And ever so many children, and so Maytera called — called upon…”
Hammerstone explained, “She drafted Moly.”
“Upon me. I knew arithmetic. You’ve got to, to keep any sort of house. How much to buy for so many, and how much you can spend, that sort of thing. I kept a — a diary, I suppose you call it, to practice my hand, which was really quite good. So I could teach the youngest their sums and letters, and I did. Some parents complained, and There wasn’t any reason not to. I put my hand on the Writings and promised, and Maytera and Maytera Rose witnessed it and kissed me, and — and then I got new clothes.”
She looked at Hammerstone, begging his understanding. “A new name, too. I couldn’t be Moly any more once I was a sibyl, or even Maytera Molybdenum. We all take new names, and you were gone. I hadn’t seen you in years and years.”