Are you frightened by Hest and me? Uncomfortable having us here?
No, the dwelling said. I don’t believe you have brought these troubles to us, though others do.
She rubbed her hands on her thighs. Is Prill frightened of us?
You must ask Prill that question.
Gama nodded again and exhaled. She’d talk to Prill, find out how she felt. And to Reln. As guide, he didn’t have much choice but to take them in. It could be that Prill and Reln would be happier if they stayed elsewhere — if there was an elsewhere that would take them She pulled on her cloak. Hest was waiting in the receiving room. No matter what nerve-rattling things were going on around them, work and chores still had to be done.
She was assigned to the spinners that day with Vonti and Iya. Hest was assigned to the granary. It wasn’t unheard of for she and Hest to be assigned separately, but it wasn’t usual either. Reln had his reasons for separating them, she was sure, though she couldn’t guess what they might be.
-=o=-
The brez hair they’d carded had been moved before the carding house disappeared. Now it waited to be spun into thread for the weavers.
They’d each done this before, enough times that the spinners had left the room open and the spindles and brez hair waiting for her, Iya, and Vonti. Vonti hadn’t looked at or spoken to her since she’d arrived — not the way it usually was, those assigned the work for the day laughing if someone pulled the roving too hard and broke it, or mocking the full-time spinners behind their backs for their frustrations with the learners.
There’d be plenty to irritate the spinners today. Gama’s hands felt slick with nervous sweat. Vonti had his spindle between his knees, but couldn’t get an even rhythm going.
“We’re all a little nervous today,” Iya said, her hands slipping off her own spindle.
Vonti looked at Iya and then Gama, his face carefully bland. He turned his attention back to the spindle. Iya raised her eyebrow ridges and hiked one shoulder in a shrug. Gama watched them both a moment, then gave Vonti a gentle jab in the side with her elbow. “Nothing to say?”
He kept his eyes on his work.
She was fairly certain what he was thinking. Thoughts unspoken had a way of festering. Her voice dropped low. “Afraid you might disappear like Frarm if you’re with me?”
“No.” Vonti’s long fingers pricked at the roving around his wrist, trying to loosen it. “It is strange though that you seem to be there so often when things happen.”
“And Hest,” she said. “Are you blaming us?”
“Your dwelling does.”
“Do you?”
The spindle between Vonti’s knees slipped and fell over. He picked it up and threw it across the room. “I don’t know what I think.” He pulled himself to his feet and stomped out of the room.
Iya sniffed and rubbed her nose.
Gama stared at the door Vonti had slammed behind him. “He shouldn’t have left. We should have talked it out. Reln was right — if we don’t stick together, fear will destroy us.”
-=o=-
Prill pushed the chest that held her personal goods toward the center of the room. She could have simply asked the dwelling to draw the metal screens over the sky-window each night — or chances were the dwelling, knowing her preference for dark, would have done it itself — but Prill liked the physical act, she’d said — climbing onto the chest, the way the screen felt in her hands, the sounds of the chest sliding across the wood floor and the moving screen made.
Gama watched her, a bubble of anxiety forming behind her breastbone. “Prill. Leave it tonight. Please.”
Prill stopped pushing the chest and looked up.
Gama felt her neck warm. “It’s silly, but tonight, I’d like the moon and starlight. The dark — ”
“Of course,” Prill said, and began dragging the chest back into the corner.
-=o=-
Prill’s breathing was deep and even — fast asleep. Star and moonlight dimly lit the sleeping quarters. It wasn’t much light, but Gama was glad for it. She could barely make out the shape that was Hest, but knew he was awake by the soft creak of his cot as he turned restlessly.
Kis’ dwelling turned him out today, she sent to him.
Why are you still awake? he sent back.
Same reason you are.
The structures, he sent. We have few friends among them these days.
Community Hall took Kis in. It hasn’t turned against us, but I sense Wall getting prickly. She rolled her shoulders, wondering if she should say what bothered her — the worrisome thought scratching at the back of her mind, then sent, What if Reev decides it’s better off without us? You and me. Some of the others.
Hest’s cot creaked. In the thin light, Gama saw he was in his thinking position — his body still, his eyes wide, staring at nothing. He didn’t answer.
She drew a breath and let it out. Reev can’t decide that though, can it? It would be like deciding you didn’t want a part of yourself any more. Even with some of the structures acting strangely, it’s not like all of Reev is siding with a few scared dwellings. I’m certain Home and Kis’ dwelling will come to their senses. Probably be embarrassed about how they acted. Reev wouldn’t suddenly decide it didn’t want us any more than the corenta-kin would suddenly abandon the structures and live outside its walls. It’s as unthinkable as you and me splitting apart.
Gama waited, but Hest didn’t respond. Still thinking, she supposed, and not ready to share. Hest could be secretive that way. She was used to it, but that didn’t stop his silence from being annoying — and hurtful.
An odd thought jumped into her head, a thought like words sounding in her mind — Hest was being difficult for no reason. The males were different, with their one soft little hand and one hard digger claw. They had brought the troubles to Reev. They were cagey and plotted to get things their own way, not thinking of the good of the whole. Wasn’t that what Hest was doing now? Lying there so quietly, thinking about himself? Vonti had stomped off, leaving her and Iya to finish his work. The males should be driven out.
But that was wrong. Home had refused her entrance just as it had Hest. Except, when she thought about it, everyone else who’d been turned away was male. Maybe it was just Hest Home didn’t want inside. Maybe she could go back and live there.
She sent Home the question — her thought-grains moving through the darkened room like tiny dull lights.
Yes, it sent back. You may return. It’s Hest who is no longer welcome.
Gama pulled the coverlet tight over her chest, as if that would slow her suddenly speeding heartbeats. She could go back, stay again where she was happiest, most comfortable.
But without Hest.
Why not Hest? she sent.
Have you not noticed? Home sent back. When bad things happen, a male is always there. No bad thing has happened with only females around. Males bring the bad things to us. I cannot be safe with a male within my walls.
Gama sucked air across her teeth. Home had been thinking along the same lines she had.
I was there, too, Gama cautiously sent. She didn’t want Home to change its mind about letting her in. I was there when the beasts disappeared, and when Frarm vanished.
She thought again that probably she and Hest should have built their own dwelling rather than moving into an existing one. A dwelling they’d built together, with their blood and sweat mixed into its mortar, would never have turned either of them away. Kis had made the same mistake they had — moving into an already built structure.
Will you be coming back? Home sent.
She felt her neck warm with the bright-greenish-blue of wanting. To sleep in her own cot. To have her own things around her, placed where she wanted them. To not feel forced to walk stealthily, trying to stay out of Reln’s and Prill’s way.
Without Hest.
Without. Hest.
She ran her hand over her scalp. I’ll stay here a while longer.
Home breathed a long,
windy sigh. Best be careful then. Two males under one roof with you and Prill — anything could happen. And tell Reln, the soumyo need to make things right for all of Reev. It’s his responsibility. He must do something quickly.
-=o=-
“What do the structures expect us to do?” Reln swirled the drink in the tumbler he held. The communiteria was nearly full but strangely quiet. Reln kept his voice down. “They must know that if there was some way to stop this upheaval, we would.”
Gama rubbed her hands on her thighs. “I told Home I’d tell you what it said, and I have.”
Reln shook his head. “Your dwelling isn’t the only one. Community Hall, Wall, my dwelling, others — they’re all demanding we stop whatever is happening from happening anymore.”
“How are the soumyo supposed to do that?” Hest said.
She knew Communiteria was listening to their conversation and would spread it to all the structures of Reev. Once the structures knew, the corenta-kin would know as well. Reln needed to offer some kind of plan — something to help them all feel safe.
Prill looked down at her hands, resting on the table. “Yesterday five of our sisters stopped me on my way back from the storage sheds. They wanted to know how full or empty they were. I told them nearly empty.”
Reln nodded. “That’s true. We’re going to have to send a foraging group out soon.”
The blue-red of anxiety was bright on Prill’s neck. She didn’t look up. “They said our troubles were the males’ fault. That male energy brought these difficulties to us.”
Hest’s eyes widened, but he kept silent. Reln didn’t say anything either.
“How could that be possible?” Even as Gama spoke, she remembered thinking the same way in the night, remembered their dwelling saying it wouldn’t let Hest back in. Maybe these sisters knew something. She shifted her gaze to Hest. He was staring hard at Prill.
Prill kept her eyes focused on the tabletop.
“Maybe you should send an all-female foraging group out.” Gama thought for a moment. “I’ll go. I’ll take the lead, if you want — or follow whomever you choose.”
Reln looked happy at the suggestion — or the gesture of support, she didn’t know which — but said, “It won’t make any difference. All female, all male, or mixed, the danger is the same.” He set his tumbler down. “I’m Reev’s guide. I’ll go, but I will take only males with me.”
She felt Hest staring at the back of her neck.
I have to tell you something, he sent. Last night I had the strangest thought — so strong, I heard it in my mind like spoken words. I thought that the females had brought this grief to our lives. That we males would be safe if we could get the females to leave Reev. But then I thought, if the females left, you would leave, too. I wouldn’t want that.
A cold shiver ran through her. She glanced up and took in the room. Almost all the soumyo of Reev were here, as they were every day for morning meal, but now males mostly sat with males, females with females. Their table was one of the few that was mixed.
-=o=-
Five sisters were in the receiving area when Gama walked out in the morning. Everyone turned their heads to look as she entered the room — the five, plus Reln, Prill, and Hest, all sitting stiffly on the floor pillows. On a few necks, Prill’s among them, the red-pink of certainty lit, as if they already knew where Gama stood. She didn’t know what had brought them to this room.
Hest sent, You might want to stay out of this. Spare yourself some grief.
Seems to be too late for that, she sent back.
Reln gestured toward an empty pillow lying between him and Prill. “Join us, Gama. I’d like to hear your opinion. These sisters,” he spread his hands to acknowledge the visitors, “have some thoughts on the cause of the strange happenings.”
Gama settled onto the large red pillow between Reln and Prill and glanced among the visiting females, trying to guess who would take the lead.
Reln nodded to Mahn. Gama wasn’t surprised. Mahn — a stocky, reddish-brown female with watery yellow eyes — had a need to be seen as involved in everything.
Mahn didn’t speak immediately. She held off, forcing everyone in the room to give her their full attention.
“Tethyod,” she said, and let the word hang in the air.
Reln’s lips tightened, but if he was offended or appalled, he gave no other sign. Hest showed nothing on his neck or face either. Gama listened for thought-talk, but evidently Hest had nothing he wanted to say to her.
Tethyod was the word for male energy, the counterbalance to yononsa — female energy. Gama’s neck warmed at the implication.
“How do you reason that?”
Mahn drew herself up tall. “Males have been present at each occurrence. I’ve spent a good deal of time thinking and feeling on the question. I’ve seen the truth of it: the males brought the occurrences.”
Gama remembered the odd thought she’d had in the night, the same thought Mahn was putting forth now — that the males were at fault here. And Hest had thought it was the females who’d brought these troubles to Reev. A small chill ran across her shoulders.
“I was there a few times, too,” she said. “Why not blame the females equally? Why is any of this anyone’s fault? It could be something natural. You might as well blame the males for snow that falls unexpectedly during First Warmth.”
Mahn’s sister Du leaned forward. “Do you think this is a natural occurrence, Gama?”
Gama drew in a breath. Mahn was the voice but Du the brain of these two. It was clear who’d concocted this theory.
“Not natural, no,” she said. “But not the fault of anyone we know either.”
Mahn smiled thinly. “Not intentionally. I didn’t say the males had brought these troubles on purpose. But there is something in their tethyod, in their maleness and essential makeup, that is drawing the troubles to Reev — and to Trontin and Kelroosh.”
Reln and Hest sat still and quiet.
Why aren’t you speaking up, Hest?
Gama, he sent, and then sent nothing more.
Tell me what you’re thinking, she sent.
I think she is part right. Maybe males and females living together makes no more sense than two corentas joining together. The more I think about it, the more I see there’s something wrong about it.
She felt her mouth drop open and two spots flare dark-yellow-green in surprise. The others would have seen that — seen the thought-grains moving. They might guess Hest and she were think-talking, or they might decide her surprise came from realizing Mahn and Du were right. Gama cared only about Hest.
That makes no sense. We’ve always lived together. These new things that are happening — they come from the outside.
Hest ran his soft hand over his scalp. I knew you wouldn’t see.
She’d been so focused on him, she’d not been listening to what Du was saying.
“There are many of us, Reln.” Du leaned toward him “We are in harmony on this point. Females and males must separate, each with their own inside Reev.”
Brown-purple burst into light on Reln’s throat. Exasperation. “You are not guide here, Du. It’s not your decision to make.”
“Not yet,” Mahn muttered.
Gama swung her gaze to her. Her stomach clenched. Too much was happening at once — the disappearances, her odd thoughts in the night, Hest’s opposite echo of her own thoughts, and now, Mahn and Du. “I won’t listen to this.” Her words came out sounding harsher than she would have wanted, but being polite was the least of her worries. She stood and strode out the door.
Reln’s dwelling didn’t shut the door immediately behind her. Maybe Reln expected her to come back inside and apologize. He’d wait a long time for that.
“Gama,” Hest called, running after her. “Gama!”
She kept going a few paces, then turned and faced him. His throat was awash with the sorrow-color. Sorrow that he agreed with Du and Mahn? That angered her more.
“We’ve nev
er been out of harmony like this, Hest. What is going on?”
He ran his smaller hand over his scalp. “Realization. Seeing clearly that things are changing.”
Anger, confusion, and her own sorrow stilled her tongue. She glanced around Reev, seeing her sisters and brothers going about their business as always. And the difference — males with males, females with females.
“Home invited me back,” Hest said. “I’m going.”
Her anger dropped a notch and she smiled. “I’m glad Home came to its senses. I’d rather be there than with Reln and Prill.”
He stared at the ground. “Only me. I’m sorry, Home says you’re not welcome. I’m sorry.”
Her neck exploded into color — gray-red with shock and orange-yellow in confusion. Home had told her it was Hest it didn’t want within its walls.
“Why?” she managed after a moment.
“You missed some of Reln’s meeting with Mahn and Du.” Hest cleared his throat. “They’ve united many — most — of the females behind them. They call themselves Doumanas — females who don’t wish to live with males. Home felt — you know how Home is, contrary for the sake of it sometimes — that if the females were going to band together, it preferred males. This male at least. Me.”
Her mind spun. “This is madness, Hest. Females and males built Reev and every other corenta together. We are soumyo — male and female making up one whole. You can’t throw half of yourself away.”
When Home had invited her back, she hadn’t gone. She’d chosen to stay with Hest. Why did he find it so easy to abandon her now?
Hest looked out across the commons.
“I’m moving back with Home,” he said. “It’d be a good idea for you not to stay with Reln any longer. Find a sister willing to share her dwelling. Live there.”
She grabbed his hand. “Hest.”
“Don’t Gama. I hate leaving you. I hate that it’s not your fault, or my fault, but it has to be. The separation is the only thing that makes sense.” He pulled his hand free and walked away.
Gama and Hest: An Ahsenthe Cycle companion novella (The Ahsenthe Cycle) Page 7