Gatefather

by Orson Scott Card

  Danny waited until Hermia disappeared. “Please stay here and get the others home,” he said to Pat. Then he leapt directly to Loki. The Gate Thief needed to be warned what was happening.

  He also needed to help Danny figure out what to do.

  18

  Wad was with Queen Bexoi when Danny came to tell him the news.

  “So you didn’t have him under control after all,” said Wad.

  “I never claimed that I did,” said Danny mildly. “I invited him to stay, and he stayed. She invited him to go, and he went.”

  “I already thought she was dangerous,” said Wad.

  “My question is, how dangerous is Set?” asked Danny. “No matter how evil somebody is, how much damage can they do without a lot of followers doing what they command?”

  “He’ll have no trouble gathering followers,” said Wad, thinking about Queen Bexoi, who had managed to find minions to do her work. Including Wad himself, when he was besotted with love and admiration for her, when he had put his gatemaking abilities at her disposal.

  Then Danny explained what he had done to the Sutahites.

  Wad looked at Danny and shook his head. “You still don’t have any gates.”

  “I said it was like eating gates,” said Danny. “That doesn’t turn them into gates.”

  “I can’t see anything like that,” said Wad.

  “You couldn’t see Set himself, either,” said Danny.

  “And you can.”

  “More easily and clearly now that he’s inside Hermia,” said Danny.

  “Not shaped like a man. More like a flyspeck.”

  “Less than a flyspeck. A geometric point. No dimension to him. Just location, persistence across time, the ability to move.”

  Wad watched as Danny got a momentary faraway look.

  “He’s never been human, so it’s hard to evaluate his character. But he seems to be a creature of pure ambition. Fearless and strong, without a scrap of empathy.”

  “Sounds like a gatemage,” said Wad ruefully.

  “But we’re funny,” said Danny.

  “Not very,” said Wad. “Not lately.”

  “I think Hermia poses less danger than she would have, before I took the Sutahites.”

  “How long will you live?” asked Wad. The boy was still so young; he didn’t think things through.

  “Oh,” said Danny. “Of course. When I die, the Sutahites will be released. So even if Set doesn’t have them now, he will.”

  “And don’t imagine that it will help if you climb inside a tree,” said Wad. “That only postpones the day.”

  “A lot can happen in fifteen hundred years,” said Danny. “More to the point, a lot can not happen.”

  “We need a permanent solution.”

  “Set and the Sutahites have never been alive,” said Danny. “So they can’t exactly die.”

  “They don’t have bodies that can die,” said Wad. “But that doesn’t mean they can’t be destroyed.”

  “Prets can’t be extinguished,” said Danny.

  “And you know that because?”

  “Because that’s what I was told in Duat,” said Danny.

  “And everything you learned there is absolute truth,” said Wad.

  “If you had been there,” said Danny.

  “I’d believe everything?” said Wad. “Quite probably. All that means is that liars can do a better job of deceiving people when they’re physically present.”

  “There was no lying in Duat,” said Danny. “There was no language.”

  Wad didn’t answer.

  “All right,” said Danny, “I know you can deceive without language, but what I got there, it was pure knowledge. It wasn’t told, it just was.”

  There was no way for Wad to dispute the point. And it might even be true. “There’s plenty of lying here,” said Wad.

  “You have to pick something to believe or you could never do anything,” said Danny.

  Wad could only agree, though he remembered how he had loved Bexoi and trusted her, doing her will in everything. Well, up to a point. When Bexoi commanded him to kill Anonoei and her sons, Wad had kept them alive and lied to her about it. That was when he stopped loving her. When she murdered Wad’s son Trick, that was when he began to hate her.

  “Maybe it’s time for you to go back to Duat and find out how to solve this,” said Wad. “With all that pure knowledge lying about, maybe you could pick up something we can use to keep the Sutahites imprisoned even after you die. Or, you know, obliterate Set from the universe.”

  “I’ve thought about this a lot,” said Danny. “How much of the evil in the world comes from Set, and how much comes from human nature. I mean, chimps are violent. Alpha males own the females. The other males kidnap females and carry them off and rape them repeatedly. They make war, they commit genocide. They can’t hack into computer systems or build nuclear weapons, but they do a lot of really terrible things, without Set or the Sutahites goading them.”

  Wad had to think hard to imagine what a “chimp” might be.

  It was as if Danny were reading his mind. “Chimpanzees. A kind of ape. The one that’s genetically closest to human beings. Next time you’re in Mittlegard, visit a zoo.”

  “Or I’ll read a book,” said Wad. “Great invention, books. Paper—amazing stuff. Why couldn’t Hermia have brought papermaking to Westil?”

  “Maybe she will. Dangerous and terrible ideas spread better with widespread literacy,” said Danny. “Along with the good ones, of course.”

  “I think your original point was that people are terrible whether Set’s around or not.”

  “They can be terrible,” said Danny. “They can also be good.”

  “Does Set stop them from being good?”

  “Only the person he’s possessing.”

  “When Set was first inside you, he completely controlled your body, right?” asked Wad.

  “That’s how it felt. I felt like I couldn’t do anything. Now I know that I had the power to take back control at any time. But it took a level of self-awareness—physical self-awareness—that I had never had.”

  “Is this part of your ability to sense prets and Sutahites?”

  “Sort of,” said Danny. “I’m still finding out what I can actually sense, what I can do, what any of it means.”

  “But you were able to regain control of your body with Set still inside you. Can Hermia?”

  Danny shook his head. “She didn’t try to learn anything from Pat and me except how to travel instantly without gates.”

  “How’s she doing with that?” asked Wad. “What are her limitations?”

  “She can go, she can return, and she can carry whatever she’s touching that she wants to bring along.”

  “So, people and those dragon things,” said Wad, “but only if she’s touching them.”

  “So far,” said Danny. “Trying to figure out how much damage Set can do?”

  “I need to know the limitations on what he can get Hermia to do,” said Wad. “And the limitations on what I can do to Hermia.”

  “Killing her wouldn’t kill Set,” said Danny.

  “But killing her would deprive him of her set of abilities,” said Wad. “Who else can do these things?”

  “When Pat separated the boys, they both saw and understood. I think they can do it. And when I helped Anonoei get possession of Bexoi’s body—she can do it.”

  “I know,” said Wad. “Not sure how dangerous that makes her—I don’t trust my ability to judge people anymore. Least of all women. But the boys. They’re young. They’re vulnerable.”

  “Enopp seems to be the one who learned the most,” said Danny. “But maybe I only think that because he’s also the talker. Who can guess what Eluik knows and what he can do?”

  “So if Hermia dies,” said Wad, “Set will want to jump to you, to Pat, to Anonoei, Enopp, or Eluik.”

  “Or you,” said Danny.

  “Who, me?” Wad chuckled. “I’m just an ordinary
Gatefather.”

  “He won’t jump to me,” said Danny. “I proved I could shut him down.”

  That was the pertinent skill. “Can you teach me how to do that?”

  “I can try,” said Danny. He seemed hesitant.

  “But … do you want to?” asked Wad, amused. “After all, I’m the terrible Gate Thief. How can you trust me with so much power?”

  “It’s not that,” said Danny. “It’s … When I taught Anonoei, I had to take possession of Bexoi’s body first, to get rid of Bexoi’s ka and to show Anonoei how to go deep.”

  “You don’t want to take possession of me?”

  “It wasn’t Anonoei’s original body,” said Danny. “She knew how to ride inside someone else. She’s a manmage. But you—what if I go deep and it drives you out like it did with Bexoi, only you can’t come back? What if it kills you?”

  “Sweet of you to care,” said Wad. “But I don’t expect to live forever.”

  “You’ve come closer than most,” said Danny.

  “Only a few centuries from two thousand years,” said Wad. “That’s still a long way from forever.”

  “Like I said, closer than most.”

  Wad shook his head. “I would risk my life to learn it, but you won’t risk killing me to teach it. I understand the choice. For now. And I thank you for warning me.”

  “I’d rather not kill Hermia,” said Danny.

  “We differ on that,” said Wad. “But since neither of us knows how to kill her, and neither of us wants to see what Set would do after she died, we will both do nothing for now. Am I right?”

  “Not nothing,” said Danny. “Just … nothing about Hermia.”

  “And I won’t do nothing, either,” said Wad. “I’m going to make sure Hermia can’t bring her dragons to Westil.”

  “Helicopters. My parents’ augmented versions. In Mittlegard, they give one side an advantage. Not an overwhelming one, but not trivial. Here, though, they’re unstoppable.”

  “I’m not sure,” said Wad. “The explosions are impressive. And dangerous. But how well could a flying ship do against a tornado raised by a Galebreath?”

  “Is that what Ced turned out to be?”

  “Maybe a Tempester. His teacher isn’t sure, and I’m not surprised, since he’s a treemage.”

  “Whatever you do to the helicopters and tanks and whatever else Hermia and my parents decide to bring, please remember that the pilots and crews are drowthers who volunteered for a war to defend an ally from attack. They don’t know anything about what’s happening here. They do know that my parents have terrifying power. So they obey. But they don’t deserve to be killed for it.”

  “They’re soldiers,” said Wad. “I’m trying to decipher your moral quibble.”

  “They didn’t choose to fire their weapons against Westilians armed with spears or arrows,” said Danny.

  “Nor against mages armed with wind or sand or whatever else I’m able to raise against them?”

  “All I’m asking is that you gate them back to Mittlegard, or gate the men out of the choppers before you put them into a mountain or deep in the ocean.”

  “I hear your request,” said Wad, “and I admire your virtue. But I’m not going to make a Great Gate, so I can’t send them back to Mittlegard.”

  “Then put them somewhere harmless here, and I’ll come fetch them back,” said Danny.

  “I will if I can. But wherever I put them, Hermia will find them.”

  “Put them in the middle of a windstorm so severe that even my parents can’t make them fly. Or a sandstorm that disables the tanks. Or whatever.”

  “So much trouble to protect the lives of soldiers who signed on to risk their lives.”

  “Soldiers being coerced into the wrong war,” said Danny. “This isn’t a quibble. Don’t make me go to war on their side.”

  Wad shook his head. “Danny. Can’t you tell when someone is agreeing with you?”

  “Can’t you stop playing devil’s advocate long enough to simply say, ‘Yes, Danny, I’ll do my best not to let any of these men from Mittlegard die’?”

  “I did say that,” said Wad. “Now go away, so I can find Hermia and see what she and Set are doing.”

  “How will you find her?” asked Danny. “You can’t sense her ka the way I can.”

  “But I don’t find her the way you do,” said Wad. “I find her because she’s a gatemage and I have her gates. Only a few, but I found them in the hearthoard you gave to me. So whenever she comes to Westil, those gates reach for her, and I know where she is.”

  “She knows where you are, too,” said Danny, “and not through her gates.”

  “Come back and teach me to do what you do,” said Wad.

  “Let’s see,” said Danny. “You have all my gates, and even though you know Set can’t get anything from me, you haven’t returned them to me.”

  “I like having so many billions of gates in my hoard,” said Wad. “Why should you have all the glory?”

  “I’m only wondering why I should teach you anything, when you still hold my gates as hostages.”

  “If I give them back,” said Wad, “you’ll make a Great Gate again.”

  “I might,” said Danny, “but so what? I’d do it to help the mages of Westil strike some kind of balance with the augmented mages of Mittlegard. To restore balance.”

  “There’s never any balance,” said Wad.

  “Set is already on Westil,” said Danny, “and I have the Sutahites. One of the things you were trying to prevent has happened. The other can’t happen while I’m alive. But go ahead, Gate Thief, keep my gates. You can’t possibly trust me to use my own gates wisely.”

  Wad hated it when his opponent had logic and fairness on his side, and all Wad had was a deep reluctance to comply. “Don’t be snippy with me, boy,” said Wad. “I’m probably your ancestor.”

  “Statistically speaking, after fifteen hundred years you’re probably everybody’s ancestor.”

  Then Danny was gone. Back on Mittlegard.

  What if he’s right? Is there really any point in keeping the worlds separate now? Why not break down all the barriers?

  Would that make Westil a colony of Mittlegard, with its huge business empires and amazing machines? Or would Mittlegard be divided into the fiefdoms of a thousand godlike Mithermages, passing back and forth through Great Gates?

  Probably both, thought Wad. Whatever happened, it would destroy whatever they now were. There were plenty of evils among the drowthers and mages of both worlds. But also much good, especially in the lives of the drowthers—good that would never survive easy passage between the worlds. Nobody would really gain anything worth having, while the drowthers everywhere would lose.

  That’s why I put myself into a tree, thought Wad. The war isn’t over, just because we lost. Because Danny North ate the Sutahites somehow. And maybe we can find a way to extinguish the Belgod Set.

  19

  With everyone calling her by Bexoi’s titles instead of her name, Anonoei was beginning to believe that she really was King Prayard’s consort, and not an interloper. It only became painful when she and Prayard were alone, because he always called her Bexoi, the name of her supplanter, the name of her murderer.

  Eventually I’ll get used to that, too. Eventually I’ll stop wishing that Prayard could be with me now as he used to be—playful, tender, not so respectful. Doesn’t he ever miss the way we were together? Is he really happier being the man he is with her?

  But not her, not anymore. Bexoi is me now.

  So why does it feel as if he is being unfaithful to me by being with … me?

  Give it time, Anonoei.

  Or rather, give it time, Bexoi. Because the real difference will come when you stop thinking of yourself as Anonoei and really believe that you are Bexoi. Not the vile monster that she was, but the Bexoi of today.

  Anonoei was sitting in the nursery, letting baby Jib suck his little brains out. Greedy child, far more than Eluik or Enopp,
who both seemed so eager to be weaned. Though that was later, not at the start. Yet they grew impatient with the breast long before they had upper and lower teeth. Fitful, rooting for something better, but finding nothing else.

  What would the boys have become, if I had been Prayard’s wife all along, if they had been raised as princes, as heirs? Their insatiable curiosity, their searching …

  No. I’m thinking of them as if they were both the same, and they never were. Those months in prison, unable to see them. And then the way they were locked together—of course I thought of them as one boy, because only Enopp’s voice could be heard, only Enopp’s personality could be expressed.

  And then, as if her thoughts of the boys had drawn them, there they were, standing near the window. Not a dream, not a wish—these were the real boys. Anonoei’s first thought was that Wad had gated them here. But no, they had learned how to move by themselves, when Danny North’s girlfriend—Pat?—had helped them separate.

  She couldn’t converse with them here, in front of the women. They mustn’t even be noticed. Anonoei gated into one of the cul-de-sac rooms that Wad had shown her, accidental spaces created by the architects when interior rooms couldn’t be reconciled with exterior walls. In moments, the boys were with her, and now they were completely alone.

  “Let me go back and dismiss the women before they notice that I’m gone,” said Anonoei.

  “Glad to see you, too, Mother,” said Enopp.

  “Mittlegard television has made you disrespectful,” said Anonoei.

  “I think the word you’re searching for is ‘snotty,’” said Eluik. “And he’s always been that way.”

  Anonoei smiled and shook her head. It took only a moment to reappear where she had been nursing moments before. The women attending her hadn’t even noticed she was gone. “Ladies, I need to be alone for a while. Please go.”

  The women graciously arose and left the room. Then Anonoei gated back to the doorless room where her sons were waiting.

  “I’m glad to see you,” said Anonoei. “Always. And this is your brother, Jib. That’s just his temporary name, until we can work out something dynastic.”

  Enopp gave the baby a tiny wave. Enopp’s eyes never left Anonoei’s face.