Gatefather

by Orson Scott Card

  “Danny is confused,” said Laurette.

  “He doesn’t like to be confused,” said Sin. “He’s an organized person. This is not the right planet for him.”

  “There is no right planet for me,” said Danny, “and I’ve been to all three.”

  “Stay on this one,” said Pat. “For me.”

  “Love is the ultimate aphrodisiac,” said Xena brightly. “Don’t correct me, Laurette, I wasn’t being stupid, I was being ironic.”

  “‘It is perfectly true, as philosophers say, that life must be understood backwards,’” read Hal. “‘But they forget the other proposition—’”

  But he couldn’t finish, because the others howled him down. “Forget Kierkegaard,” said Sin, taking back her phone.

  “‘People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought, which they seldom use,’” Hal recited quickly.

  “Hal’s going to major in philosophy,” said Xena.

  “Danish philosophy,” said Wheeler.

  “The philosophy of danishes,” said Xena. “He’ll get so fat.”

  “I think Kierkegaard sounds cool. Paradoxical and stuff. Not as insane as Nietzsche.”

  “You’ve read Nietzsche,” said Laurette.

  “After I met an actual superman, I thought I owed it to myself to read Man and Superman,” said Hal.

  “That’s George Bernard Shaw,” said Pat.

  “I know,” said Hal. “But it was Nietzsche who coined the term ‘ubermensch,’ so I read Also sprach Zarathustra—”

  “Please tell me you didn’t read it in German,” said Pat.

  “I can’t read German,” Hal said. “And I can’t understand Nietzsche even in English, only he sounds like he thinks he’s smarter and better and more dangerous and cool than everybody else, which means he’s the opposite of Danny, because Danny keeps apologizing for being what he is, which is dumb.”

  “Thanks,” said Danny.

  Hal read off the screen of his own phone, “‘The most common form of despair is not being who you are.’”

  “‘Be yourself,’” quoted Xena. “‘Everybody else is taken.’”

  “She used to have a T-shirt that said that,” said Sin.

  “I still have it,” said Xena. “But I bought it before I got my boobs, and now I can’t get the shirt to go down over them, so nobody could read it anyway.”

  “Anybody looking at your chest now,” said Laurette, “is not reading.”

  “Thank you,” said Xena.

  “‘The most painful state of being is remembering the future,’” read Hal, “‘particularly the one you’ll never have.’”

  Danny laughed wryly. “That sounds like it actually means something. If only I were intelligent enough to see how it applies to me. Guys, I learned a lot today, and on top of that, I found out that you’re willing to listen to me go on and on about how hard my life is, which is ridiculous because if anybody in this world can get whatever he wants, it’s me. So thanks.”

  “I think we should all get college credit for a class in Kierkegaard,” said Laurette.

  “Just remember that Danny took away my devils,” said Wheeler, “but you’ve still all got yours.”

  “That was kind of inaccurate,” said Pat, “since you’ve already got a bunch of new ones.”

  “The devil made me say it,” said Wheeler.

  “I’ve got to go think about stuff,” said Danny. “Meaning I need some sleep.”

  “If you take Pat with you, you won’t sleep,” said Laurette.

  “Get a life, Laurette, it’s not like that,” said Pat.

  “If I take Pat with me, I’ll think better,” said Danny.

  “With your brain?” asked Wheeler.

  “Wheeler doesn’t need Sutahites to be a jerk,” said Pat. Then she turned to Wheeler. “Of course, I meant that in the nicest possible way.”

  Danny took Pat’s hand. “Want to come with me?”

  Her answer was to jump to his house—taking him with her. It was strange being her passenger. But also kind of nice. Like he could turn things over to somebody else, even if only for a minute, and it would still come out OK.

  16

  “There have never been dragons,” said Lus, the old loremaster. “They’re a legend that originated in Mittlegard, but such creatures have never existed anywhere, least of all here in Mitherhame.”

  Gerd only smiled—which, Hermia knew, was exactly the pose a person needed to strike if she was to be thought powerful. However, Hermia’s pose was not one of power; she wasn’t CEO of a powerful corporation, she was merely a consultant, and what she had to sell was her wisdom. Or at least her useful data.

  “When we call it a dragon,” said Hermia, “everyone knows what to expect. It will fly. It will spew out fire and kill from a distance and up close. And it will be impervious to arrows and swords. But no, there has never been a living dragon, and that is not what Lady Gerd of the North will demonstrate here today. For instance, everyone knows that the only thing that a dragon cannot penetrate is stone. The city of Y was built here in these craggy hills precisely so that it could be built of local stone, which is very hard. What could a dragon—if there were such a creature—do against these walls?”

  “Nothing, of course,” said Lus, because he was a lover of logic.

  “Your implication,” said Queen Genoesswess, “is plain. This ‘dragon’ of yours will harm our walls, or why show it to us? Suppose that your claim is true. To harm our walls would certainly impress us. But then we would have to rebuild the wall.”

  Hermia glanced at King Sorian, who, as usual, was listening to everything and saying nothing. “Have you no stonemages?” Hermia asked.

  The queen smiled. “The walls of this redoubt were built by ancient Stonefathers, from the age when we passed between the worlds. It is all living rock, drawn up from the bowels of these hills and shaped according to their dreams. There’s no stonemage in all the world who can do any such thing.”

  “Then perhaps,” said Hermia, “we could choose a different target. What do you think, Lady of the North?”

  Gerd turned at the sound of the impressive title they had agreed upon. “I’ll see to it that it happens as you said.” She pointed to a nearby butte. “Perhaps if we show what the dragon can do to that.”

  “We would consider that a perfect demonstration of its power against walls,” said Queen Genoesswess. “It’s also living rock, and it’s neither weaker nor stronger than these walls.”

  There came a sound, different from the wind, a kind of juddering beat in the air, like great wings flapping. Hermia knew where to look, of course, because she could sense where the pilot was, but she feigned a search until she could see the dot of the approaching helicopter. Gerd, who was more practiced at spotting her own air force, was already guiding Sorian, Lus, and Genoesswess to look at the right spot in the southern sky.

  “It’s either very small or very far,” said Lus.

  “From the noise, it must be very loud,” said the queen.

  “It’s larger than any horse,” said Gerd, “though many ships are larger. And yes, it’s quite noisy, so that when it’s near you, you have to shout to be heard.”

  Hermia knew that the pilot had already received his change of orders from Gerd, who had mastered the art of causing the onboard computer to respond to her course corrections. The pilot could override her, because he was the one who understood what wind or birds or updrafts might do to the chopper, and Gerd was not interested in losing a chopper because it was stupidly obedient to her. But he understood his target and was now flying the chopper toward the targeted butte.

  That was when Hermia felt the making of a gate, and knew that another human being had just arrived on the terrace. There was only one gatemage left in either world who had the power to make gates in the old way, so she was not surprised to see Loki standing against the wall of the castle, far out of earshot.

  She excused herself and walked to where he stood. “Cam
e to see what Danny North’s mummy and dad have been doing?”

  “I know what they’ve been doing,” said Loki. “I’m here to decide whether to allow this demonstration to take place or not.”

  Hermia chose not to roll her eyes, though he deserved it. “They’ll fire a rocket and it’ll hit the bluff and spray a bit of rock around and make a lot of noise.”

  “And then the king and queen will decide that now is a good time to avenge their ancient injuries. Which neighbor will it be? Suffyrd? Nefyryd? Or poor little Badys?”

  “I don’t know what Gerd has in mind. I don’t think she knows. Westilian politics is still beyond her.”

  “But you’re an expert?”

  “They’re not my helicopters and tanks and submarines,” said Hermia.

  “When you brought them here, you became responsible for them.”

  “It really wouldn’t be sporting of you to take them away,” said Hermia. “And I’ll only bring more.”

  “Once I’ve moved them, you won’t know where they are, and the supply isn’t infinite,” said Loki.

  “Why would you meddle? We’re gatemages. In the old days, each side allowed the other to gate people as they would, and engines of war as well.”

  “Within limits,” said Loki.

  “None that I heard of,” said Hermia.

  “Apparently your knowledge also has limits. I was there.”

  “Let them have their demonstration,” said Hermia. “Nobody’s impressed with this stuff on Mittlegard anymore. They’ve all seen too many movies with special effects to think real explosions matter—unless they get caught by the shock wave or eat a little shrapnel.”

  “I suppose I should let the demonstration happen, so I’ll know what a shock wave and shrapnel are.”

  “We aren’t close enough for you to experience those, and that’s a good thing.”

  “But that’s no use,” said Loki. “I think we need to see the effect of these devices on a human body.”

  “Not a good idea,” said Hermia. “I’m not sure you can make a gate fast enough to repair your body from the effects of an explosion.”

  “Thanks for the suggestion,” said Loki. And he was gone.

  Hermia turned and saw him standing in midair, about twenty yards out from the face of the butte. She could see that he was continuously falling through a gate that raised him about a millimeter so he would fall through again and again. Since gates would not be affected by the explosion, gravity would pull him through the gate and heal him, even if he was torn to bits.

  Unless fragments of him were blown every which way, so they’d miss the gate entirely. She might have warned him about that—part of the shock-wave concept—but he was such a know-it-all he deserved whatever happened.

  The chopper was still about two hundred meters out when it loosed a missile. The pilot might have seen Loki in the air near the target zone, but probably not, or if he saw him, he wouldn’t have known what he was seeing.

  It turned out Loki was far enough away that while his body shuddered with the shock wave, it didn’t fly into fragments, and if for a moment it lost coherency, it was instantly reassembled in proper order by its passage through the gate. And now she saw that Loki had a very large gate on the far side of himself from the explosion. If he had been torn to pieces, the pieces would have been caught by a gate. Whether it would still have the power to heal such a torn-up corpse would have been interesting to learn, but … not today.

  “Why would you send your clant so close to the target?” asked Queen Genoesswess.

  Before she had finished her sentence, Loki was standing with them. “I’m not a clant,” he said cheerfully. He bowed deeply to the queen—the respectful action of a foreign lord, not the groveling of a servant or tradesman. Hermia admired his savoir faire—it would have been good to have him as her tutor before she came here to try to help Gerd make her way in Westil. Hermia was having the problems that anthropologists and sociologists always faced: It was hard to know which behaviors were general among all cultures, particular to this culture, or a quirk of the individual. But Loki already knew.

  “Who are you, then?” asked the queen.

  “I’m a close companion to Queen Bexoi of Iceway,” said Loki. “You may call me Hull.”

  “A seafaring land, this Iceway?” asked King Sorian.

  “For the past thousand years, yes,” said Lus. “They came pouring out of the frozen Icekame and conquered half of Gray, seizing a long coastline and then moving their capital of Kamesham down to a deep inlet of the sea. Their king at the time was a Tidefather—he would have been remarkable if he had been able to pass between the worlds—but he had power enough to destroy the fleet Gray sent against them. Ever since then—”

  “We become wiser with every word,” said King Sorian. “But I have reached the limit of my wisdom for now.” He turned to Gerd. “I want to know why this man has come to join you foreign women. He is not the husband of either of you?”

  “I do not have that pleasure or honor,” said Loki. “I’m here to see what their toys can do. I felt a portion of the power of that device.”

  “It tore a great gouge in the rock,” said Queen Genoesswess. “If that were directed against our castle, it could not stand for long.”

  “But it will not be,” said Hermia.

  “Unless it is,” said Gerd, who was always ham-handed in negotiation.

  “It will not be,” said Hermia, “because our sole desire is to serve you and restore Yffyrd to its rightful place as the great nation of the southeast. Once the city of Y ruled from one end to the other of the Cotton Road, and all the ports and islands from Braccuin to File paid tribute. Now, the people of Ny sneer at the accent of Y, while your last coastline is now under the control of the ungrateful merchants of Fyrdhaven.”

  “I know our history,” said Genoesswess.

  “But Hermia’s afraid that I might not,” said Loki. “And she was right. My attention has been mostly to the north for the past year or so. I can see that you have legitimate grievances. But what I can’t see is how you plan to use the dragon these women are offering.”

  “Our enemies have castles,” said King Sorian. “Until they meet the dragon.”

  “And castles are filled with soldiers. How many will die?”

  “Men die in war,” said Sorian.

  “But they die fighting, or standing guard,” said Loki. “They have some kind of chance to protect themselves, or defend, or counterattack. How can they stand against this?”

  “That’s why we’re going to ask for ten of these dragons,” said Sorian. “So our victory will be swift, and our enemies will surrender rather than resist us.”

  “And what will you do then, when you win?” asked Loki.

  “Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves?” asked Queen Genoesswess. “Though you are clearly a gatemage—a Gatefather, no doubt, or so you will claim—you must surely know that no mage can plan very far into the future. Least of all a gatemage, since the Gate Thief waits for you.”

  “Only if I make a Great Gate,” said Loki, “which I do not intend to do. But I do intend to know what it will mean to the common people of Suy, Ny, Badmardden, Brac, and Fyrdhaven, to have you as overlords instead of the houses that rule them now.”

  “To the common people, there should be no difference at all,” said Queen Genoesswess. “Why should they care to whom they pay their taxes? Their lives may even be better, since there will be no duties to pay at border crossings, once the borders cease to exist.”

  “A free trade zone,” said Hermia. “It boosts every economy.”

  Loki didn’t even look at her. “What about those who resist you?”

  The queen looked at him as if he were insane. “Drowthers don’t resist mages.”

  “But mages do,” said Loki. “And drowthers sometimes do as well.”

  “We handle traitors and criminals as each case comes up. What business is it of yours?”

  “I wanted to have som
e idea of who would be wielding this fabulous new weapon, if I allow it to stay,” said Loki.

  “He thinks he’s the protector of the world,” said Hermia. “It’s a sad delusion.”

  Hermia abruptly found herself on a lonely, windy mountaintop, as the gate that Loki had used to send her there disappeared. He had to know how useless the gesture was. She took a moment to get her bearings and leapt back to the terrace in Y.

  “That,” she said to Queen Genoesswess, “is what he plans to do to your dragons if you don’t use them in a way he approves of.”

  The queen looked a little queasy. “I knew what gatemages used to be, back before the Gate Thief. But to see it. Or … not see it.”

  “Dear Queen of Y,” said Loki, “you and your husband don’t seem to be the most horrible of the powerful people that I’ve known. Far from it. You are definitely better than Gerd, here, who once tried to kill her own child because he was a gatemage.”

  Gerd reddened. “You know that I protected him in every way I could.”

  “But when they came to kill him, there you were,” said Loki.

  “She behaved as well as she could,” said Hermia. “Better than you, if what we hear from Eluik and Enopp is even half true.”

  Now it was Loki’s turn to blush. “And is the traitor bitch now my judge?” he asked.

  “I think so,” said Hermia, refusing to let his goading irk her. “I did as little harm as possible, while still obeying my very dangerous Family. I never terrorized children by perching them in downsloping caves for years on end.”

  Loki turned his back on Hermia and faced the king and queen. “We mages are such an imperfect lot,” he said. “Yet I repeat: You and your husband are better than most ruling mages.”