"When you gonna do it?" asked Dyre.
Ashes looked out the one small window at the sky, pointed westward where four of the moons made a cluster low along the hills, with another one trailing close. "Soon, boy. My bones say soon. They're all gathering. Real soon."
"And when we take it over, everything, then we get what you promised, huh?" Bane asked.
"Then you get what was promised you and I get what was promised me, and we all get everything we want. And more."
46—The Second Expedition Sets Out
Onsofruct and D'Jevier, together with five sturdy Haggers, waited for Madame outside the gates of Mantelby Mansion rather early on fiveday morning. They heard the carriage wheels approaching from down the hill, then saw the equipage as it rounded the nearest curve and came quickly toward them. Madame was not alone. She was accompanied by one veiled man without cockade and a family man known to the Hags by the cockade as Calvy g'Valdet. He leapt from the carriage and bowed deeply.
"Revered Hag," he said. "It seems the Hags and the Men of Business are similarly motivated."
"How did you find out about this, Family Man?" demanded Onsofruct, with a glare in Madame's direction.
"Do not blame Madame," said Calvy. "The steward here is Bin g'Kiffle's son."
"Of course," murmured D'Jevier. "We should have remembered that."
"There was a special meeting of the ECMOB, and after a good bit of talk that achieved nothing, they decided to send me to represent the Men of Business."
"Why you, g'Valdet?" asked Onsofruct. "Are you now in good odor with your colleagues?"
"No, Ma'am," he said. "Slab g'Tupoar nominated me. He said that Myrphee was too fat, Sym was too small, Slab himself was too lazy. Estif's wife wouldn't let him, and Bin bitches about everything. He said he didn't much like me, but I got things done. And here I am."
"Well, if your intention is to find out what happened to the Questioner, your interest is no less justified than ours, though I am surprised at the company you keep."
"I have known Calvy for many years," said Madame. "In my opinion, we need him and my well-trusted Simon to assist us in this exploration."
Onsofruct said stiffly, "If you think it wise, we will not obstruct you. I suggest, however, that the Family Man and Simon replace two of our Haggers rather than increasing our total number."
"Is the number important?" asked Calvy.
"Not if you are both excellent swimmers," remarked D'Jevier, rather frostily. "Since Timmys are no doubt involved in this disappearance, we have cast about in memory and fable and find many references to subterranean waters—at least rivers, perhaps even lakes. We are carrying an inflatable boat that holds a maximum of eight."
Calvy laughed. "I hadn't thought of that! By all means, let us replace two of your Haggers."
There was a momentary hesitation among them, an unspoken acknowledgment that they had not agreed upon a leader for their expedition.
Onsofruct ran her fingers down the seams of her unaccustomed trousers and said, "Madame? D'Jevier and I have seldom been outside the Panhagion since we were children. Do you have experience of this kind of thing? If so, we would be pleased to follow you."
Madame was herself dressed appropriately for the occasion in heavy trousers and shirt, with stout boots on her feet. She regarded the Hags with some diffidence, saying, "I can't claim to expertise, though a small group of friends and I have gone on lengthy cave hikes during the summers, exploring some of the badlands west of Naibah. I may have picked up some useful skills. I know that Simon and Calvy have had similar experience."
D'Jevier nodded. "You are better equipped than we. How do you suggest that we proceed?"
Madame smiled. "By handling a question that arose during our trip here. Calvy and Simon have pointed out that it will be difficult for them to be useful if they keep their veils."
"We are unlikely to be able to see through them underground," said Calvy, making an apologetic gesture toward the Hags.
D'Jevier replied, "I have no objection to your removing your veils while on this expedition. It would be foolish to handicap you out of mere custom; Onsofruct and I have quite dependable self-control, and we promise not to assault you sexually."
Madame merely smiled at this.
Calvy said, "Inasmuch as Simon and I are already carrying all we can manage, let's proceed with all five of your Haggers. When and if we encounter water, we can decide then what baggage to leave behind, who will go on and who will return."
D'Jevier nodded her assent, then led them around the house to a side entrance that gave directly upon stairs leading to the cellars. The room below had already been cleared of its sadistic machines, except for piles of scrap, and Onsofruct wasted no time in finding and opening the sneakway door, bowing Madame to enter first.
Madame stepped into the sneakway, looked and sniffed in both directions, and came to much the same conclusion Mouche had come to earlier. "That way goes back up into the mansion. This way leads down. I think we may rely upon it that they went down, though we'll watch for their tracks to be sure."
"If you'll allow me," said Calvy, drawing Madame out and taking her place in the narrow way. "I have done some tracking, and I am armed, which you are not."
"Armed, Family Man?" asked D'Jevier, threateningly. "Our laws forbid Family Men carrying arms."
"A canister of chemical repellant, Ma'am. Useful for dissuading vicious dogs while walking on the streets. And a rather large knife, useful for opening shipping crates. Both are allowed within the regulations. I am also carrying a staff which I have been trained to use." He turned on the downward way and moved off with Madame and the Hags behind him, then Simon and the Haggers bringing up the rear.
Down they went, as Mouche, Ornery, and the Questioner had gone, making their slow way through the rooty tunnel until it intersected the stream. Because they had lighted their way throughout, they noticed no luminescence. Indeed, they had sent two Haggers back the way they had come, had inflated their boat and were well down the river before they turned out their lights and began to see the wonders of the world around them.
47—Round the Down Staircase
For Mouche and his companion, the drift-trip down the big river had seemed timeless. Both Mouche and Ornery had slept for long, lost periods of quiet and peace. Every now and then the boats had stopped at some sandy beached curve and let them go ashore to eat and drink and relieve themselves, and according to Questioner, who seemed to be keeping track, this happened several times each day for several days. They had eaten only a little food from their packs, for Questioner had reminded them they had no idea how long they would be on this journey and thus no idea how long their food would need to last.
"I think we could eat their food," Mouche had said, indicating the darkness where pairs of silver eyes shone briefly from time to time. "I've smelled it, and it smells wonderful."
"Do not worry over food," came the voice from the darkness. "You will not be allowed to starve. You must come to the Fauxi-dizalonz in good health. When we come to the sea, we will feed you."
"How long to the sea?" asked Ornery, somewhat fretfully.
"Long enough to get there," came the fading voice.
Sometimes they felt that their escorts went away, for a kind of vacancy occurred, as though some essential component of the environment had gone missing, though where anything could go in this dim world, they could only guess. There were folds and cracks in the tunnel walls, and the tunnel constantly changed direction, and any of these irregularities might hide a way in or out just as they concealed the roosting places of many small creatures that plunged out into the air or down into the river, luminous forms that approached and receded, glowing parasols of light, soaring cones, winged diamonds, both above and below, as though air or water made little difference to them.
Three long sleeps into the journey, they became aware of a hushing sound, like the roar of their own blood in their ears. This very gradually grew into a soft roaring that gre
w more thunderous with every passing breath. If they had not guessed what caused it, Questioner would have told them. The sound was quite unmistakable, she said, for she had heard waterfalls on a hundred planets and water always sounded like water. By the time the little boat thrust up onto a sandy shore and tipped them out, unfolding into a flat blade of rubbery flesh that slipped away under the water, the roaring was loud enough to make conversation difficult.
"Now what?" shouted Ornery, who had been content to sleep the time away, curled in the end of the boat, dreaming of far shores and strange sights. Sailors, so he had told Mouche, learned to sleep whenever and wherever they could.
"You cannot dive the falls; for you the stairs," cried the voice from the darkness. "We have put a light."
The familiar hugeness swelled out of the water, a shiny dark mound that turned its pale, spherical eye across them then receded toward the falls. Within moments, it was gone, the guides were gone, and they three were alone.
"Light?" suggested Questioner. "Where?"
They found it hidden behind several broken shards of lava tube, the pieces nested like pieces of a giant cup, curved up against the wall, a glowing crystal set within the arch, illuminating the top of the stairs to the left. After taking a few moments for comfort's sake and redistributing their packs, they stepped past the light and onto the stairs. Falling Green had not said endless stairs, though there was no end in sight.
Questioner lit their way as they variously clomped or danced or leapt downward. Here and there the sidewall opened to admit both the roar of the waters and curtains of flung spray, from each of which they emerged deafened and wet through. Finally came a roaring window near the bottom of the falls, where Questioner leaned through to light a great cauldron of boiling foam leading to a short stretch of glassy river, and then to a lip of stone over which the water poured unbroken into darkness.
They paralleled the level stretch of river, finding more stairs beside the lip of the fall. The next opening was a long way down, far enough down that the roar of the basin was reduced to a soft rushing, and again Questioner leaned out to light the water. The smooth pour shone with greenish reflections, utterly silent. Within the glassy flow moved pallid shadows that twisted and spun within the cataract, moving with the water into some unguessed at basin below.
Mouche made a noise that was almost a moan. "I dreamed this," he said in a helpless voice. "I dreamed this!"
"Well, Mouche," said Questioner in a chilly, admonitory voice, "I am sure you believe so. It is all very mystic and dreamlike, and though I can be sensitive to the moods and impressions such places evoke, I try not to give way to them. When dream is most attractive, then is time to be alert and practical, for it is then we are most in danger." She gave him a keen and penetrating look.
Mouche swallowed painfully. He didn't want to be practical. Every step in this journey took him either nearer to his dream life or farther from it, into new and treacherous territory, and he could not tell the difference.
"I'm sure you're right," he said, gritting his teeth.
"Be assured, I am," said Questioner. "Let us expedite this climb. You, Mouche, come here upon my left side. I shall extrude two little steps there, see, one at the back, one at the side, one for each foot to stand upon while you lean forward upon my shoulder. And you, Ornery, do the same upon my right, if you will. In that way we may make better time, and certainly in a less fatiguing manner."
Though doubtful, they did as she ordered, after which a brief clicking and clanking preceded a seemingly effortless, level and continuous descent of the interminable stairs.
"How are you doing this?" asked Ornery, who had always been fascinated by machinery.
"Two-part rotary tread, two outside sections, one wider, central section, operating alternately, first center legs then side legs. The knees are double jointed, of course, and the only trick is to shift my ballast properly."
"How long can you do it?"
"Several planetary diameters, I should imagine. Do you think we'll be going that far?"
Ornery fell silent for a time, thinking it remarkable how quiet the mechanism was. There was only the slightest chickety-click, chickety-click as the treads placed themselves, only the tiniest hum as Questioner descended, obviously unhampered by the weight of both of them and their packs.
"I can see how that works on stairs, but does it work on irregular slopes?" Ornery asked.
"It adapts itself. I am very well designed."
They went down the stairs for what seemed half a day with the water, intermittently lit by Questioner's headlamp, still soundlessly falling at left or right, depending upon the spiral of the stair. Mouche leaned upon her shoulder and slept while Ornery, more or less alert, whispered occasional comments and questions into Questioner's ear.
"Someone said you were made with mankind brains inside. Is that true?"
"True. Yes. Three of them."
"Do you know whose they were?"
Questioner surprised herself by answering honestly, "Yes. I was recently given that information."
"Old people, I suppose."
"No. Three young women. Very young, one of them, only a girl, M'Tafa, her name was. Of an untouchable caste, on a planet you've never heard of and I wish I hadn't."
"Why?" begged Ornery, sensing no discomfort and willing to be distracted with a story.
"The untouchables are simply that. They may not let their shadows fall on other people. They may not touch anything the higher castes touch or use. If they do, the thing must be boiled before it can be used again. If the thing cannot be boiled, they kill the untouchable instead.
"The untouchables speak a language of their own in order that the words spoken by the higher castes cannot be sullied on their lips. This child, M'Tafa, was a filth carrier. She sat outside an uppercaste nursery, and whenever the babies soiled a diaper, M'Tafa carried it to the laundry where it would be boiled. Sometimes, when no one was looking, she would touch things, very quickly, and then watch to see if anyone boiled them. They never did, unless they knew M'Tafa had touched them.
"One day a pet animal knocked over a lamp in the nursery, and the baby's crib was in the way of the fire. M'Tafa could not call anyone, for they did not speak her language. She could not put out the fire, for she had nothing to do it with. She was not supposed to touch the baby. Very quickly, so that no one saw, she moved the baby out of its crib, out of the way of the fire.
"Of course, someone figured out what had happened, for M'Tafa was the only one there. They could not boil the baby, so they killed M'Tafa. She was buried alive for her crime."
"Oh, horrid," cried Ornery. "That's terrible. Does she remember? Is she still ... like, alive inside you?"
"She is, yes."
"Were the other two like that?"
"More or less. Tiu was a young bride, married to an old man who lived only a few days after the wedding. When he died, custom dictated that a faithful wife could offer to die on the pyre with him. Tiu did not wish to die so. She scarcely knew the old man. But, if Tiu did not die on the pyre, she could claim an inheritance, and since the grown children of the old man did not want to divide the inheritance, she was tied to the pyre and burned alive."
Ornery gulped, beginning to be sorry she had asked. "And the last one?"
"Mathilla. A similar story. A young bride of thirteen or fourteen in a world where women are hidden away. She was sequestered virtually alone in a harem by her old husband who was often away. The grown son of the old husband came to visit. He had a daughter her age, and he took pity on her and taught her to read and gave her books to pass the time. And when the old man found out, he charged her with adultery, though there had been nothing between the little wife and the grown son but pity and gratitude. She was stoned to death, for such is the penalty for adultery. Her own father threw the first stone."
Ornery breathed deeply. "Do they remember dying?"
Questioner sighed deeply. "I sometimes think it is all they remember."
She fell silent, thinking about Mathilla and Tiu and M'Tafa. She had never considered before that in other places, things could be far worse for women than they were on Newholme.
"Why did they pick brains with so much pain?" she asked.
Questioner hummed for a moment. "The technicians are long dead, so I can't ask them. I know they wanted brains that were healthy, young, with few memories, so people dying of disease wouldn't do. I know they had to make some advance preparation, so people dying suddenly in accidents wouldn't do. They preferred planets which were less advanced, technologically, where fewer questions would be asked. They may even have been motivated by pity, thinking that, in a way, they were saving those three. And then, of course, they didn't expect that I would ever know enough to bring them into memory."
Ornery thought about this, lazily, which led her to another thought. "We met those two Earthers you brought with you. Why did you bring those particular ones?"
"They are dancers. I felt we might need dancers."
"What for? You haven't needed them, have you?"
"We are not yet finished with our visit though, are we?"
They went on a bit farther, and Questioner said, "Hark?"
Ornery listened for the sound of water, hearing instead the sound of voices. Someone or something was approaching from farther down the stairs.
Questioner unburdened herself, wakening Mouche, who shook himself sleepily, adjusting his pack and brushing wrinkles from his clothing. The voices came nearer. Questioner turned up her light.
Tepper,Sheri - Six Moon Dance Page 35