Cendri laughed. She said, "That is the very last thing it would occur to me to do. I am not even certain where my own mother lives now; she could not wait for me to be old enough to go to my chosen lifework as a Scholar, so that she could return to her own! I have not seen her since my seventeenth year! I suppose some day we will meet again, as friends, but each of us has her life to live; on our world we do not recognize biological ties after a child is old enough to fend for herself."
"That seems to me as cold-blooded as the fish," Miranda said with distaste. "How else are women distinguished from animals, except by the nurture they give their young?" She laughed, then said, "It is good to hear someone challenge the ideas I take for granted! I like talking of such things with you, Cendri, I think I shall always like to do so, but I should warn you, not to speak too freely of such matters to the women of this household. Many of the women here would be shocked and disgusted by the way we have been talking, they would think you dirty and perverted for speaking of such things—and me no less perverted for being willing to hear them spoken! Don't tell them, will you, Cendri?"
She smiled at the off-worlder and sniffed deeply. "I thought so; the fish-flavoring herbs are in flower, by the South wall. Come, let us gather some and take them to the women in the kitchen; they will want to gather them while their fragrance is strongest, and dry them to season the fish when next we visit the sea."
She gathered a bouquet of the strong-scented greyish pink flowers to take to the kitchens, Cendri helping her. When they came into the kitchens, one of the women wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"Pheu, you smell like a fish dinner, Miranda, you smell as if you have been visiting the sea—"
Miranda laughed. "Well, and so I have, you can tell that by looking at me," she said gaily.
The other woman turned away, abashed. "What a way to talk, Miranda! And before the distinguished guest!"
"You first spoke of it," Miranda said, laughing. "We are all grown women here! And if we want herbs to season our fish, we must then smell like the sea! And I like the smell, for it tells me the season for visiting the sea is near—what is it, Zamila, does the smell make it too hard for you to wait?" She crushed the strong-smelling flowers between her palms, bruising them, and as the aromatic smell spread through the room, the women began a little nervous giggling which Cendri did not understand.
Dal, too, when Cendri got back to the upper apartment they shared, wrinkled his nose against the strong smell which clung to her hands.
"What in a hundred worlds is that stink, Cendri?"
"An herb of some sort, used for seasoning fish; I was helping Miranda to gather it," Cendri said, abstractedly. Did the talk of "visiting the sea" have something to do with their seasonal religious festivals, then? "I gather the scent is highly prized for flavoring their meals."
Dal sniffed. "I don't remember tasting it myself, and frankly I'm just as well pleased. Don't you get bored spending time with these women? Picking flowers and rubbish like that?"
"Of course not, Dal, it's my work, and I'm getting quite fond of Miranda."
"Don't get too fond of her," Dal said morosely, "I don't trust women who live without men. It doesn't seem normal or healthy, and I'm not sure I like the idea of my wife spending a lot of time with women who pair off like that. Miranda hasn't bothered you, has she? Are you sure you can trust her?"
After an incredulous moment Cendri realized what Dal meant. She said, "That's so ridiculous I won't even dignify it with an answer, Dal," and went to wash the smell of the herb from her fingers.
Miranda's lonely. She said so herself. And she certainly went to some trouble to find out whether I was rigidly prejudiced against their way of life. And her sisters have all chosen women for life-partners—oh, that's ridiculous, Miranda knows I'm not that kind of woman.
Anyway, what makes me think I have any right to be so condescending about what's normal? If men are kept out of the society except for breeding, and the women spend all their time with one another, naturally they develop all their love and affection for each other. How can you love a variety of people who are regarded as dangerous animate who have to be registered as property? And naturally, where there's Jove, there's probably sex too. You've seen homosexuals before this! Don't be so damned smug and condescending, as if you had a right to approve or disapprove! It's their society.' It's all very well for Dal to find fault, he's not a trained anthropologist.. .there's no excuse for you doing it!
Just the same, she felt sorry for the women, not allowed to keep a Companion till they were Vaniya's age, and forced to get their love, even their sex, from one another. No, not forced, they chose.. .did they really choose, without open options in the society?
I guess my own cultural prejudices go a Jot deeper than I ever realized...
The Pro-Matriarch was not present that night at dinner; but prodded by Dal, Cendri approached Miranda.
"Is there any possibility we could begin our work in the ruins soon, Miranda?"
Miranda avoided her eyes, saying, "I really know nothing about it, Cendri, you must ask the Pro-Matriarch."
"I know you sometimes make decisions in her place—" Cendri persisted, but Miranda said, "No, not about such matters, only those pertaining to the household. I really don't have the authority, Cendri. I know how you feel about your work, but you must await my mother's decision."
Later when they were in their room again, Dal fumed. "How long are they going to put us off? Why did you let her put you off again?"
"Dal, I went as far as I could. I know I made Miranda very uncomfortable—"
"Maybe if you made her uncomfortable enough, she'd start demanding a decision from Vaniya! Cendri, if we don't hear something definite in a day or two, I think we ought to go to the other Pro-Matriarch—what's her name, Mahala—and see if she can do anything for us. Maybe we can use the rivalry between them to get things moving!"
"Dal, I really don't think we ought to. I don't want to alienate Vaniya—"
"Damn it, Cendri," he exploded, "You're doing the work you're interested in, you're studying these people—"
"Dal, lower your voice," she said sharply, "If they overheard that, it would be the end of our welcome here!"
He dropped his voice almost to a whisper. He said, "But what of my work, Cendri, the work we came here to do for the Unity?"
"Vaniya has been occupied with the damage from the quake—"
"Oh, come on! If quakes are as common as that here, it wouldn't be up to the Pro-Matriarch to handle it all personally! That's the excuse she's making—just to delay us!" He went to the window and stared down morosely at the distant ruins.
"Have you found out, yet, why they call them We-were-guided?"
"I've had no chance to ask, Dal."
"Why not? Sharrioz!" he stormed, "the ruins are what you're mainly supposed to be interested in, here! What do you and Miranda talk about?"
Cendri sighed and said, "Nothing in particular, Dal, nothing that would interest you." It was true, and she resented it; all the things she was learning about this world, all the strangenesses, the wonder of the difference, meant nothing to Dal; she had learned that in the first few days. Suddenly she was overcome by a surge of resentment so enormous it was all she could do to keep from throwing something at him.
He expects me to be interested, even enthralled, in his damned ruins. Yet he won't take the slightest interest in my work.'
Dal threw himself down in the padded alcove where they slept. "Aren't you coming to bed?"
"Later, Dal," she said, turning her back on him. "I want to write up my notes for today. One of us ought to do some work."
He scrambled up; stood over her in a rage.
"That's not fair! It isn't my fault we haven't started the work we came here to do!"
"I didn't mean that," she said, sighing. "I'm sorry, Dal. Tomorrow I'll try to find out if Vaniya will see me, and put it to her that we should really begin our work in the ruins. And if not—well, perhaps you are
right, perhaps we should approach the other Pro-Matriarch."
He said, a little placated, "Is the High Matriarch still in her coma, neither living nor dying?"
Cendri nodded. "We may have to wait until she recovers or dies, Dal. That may be what they are waiting for."
He grumbled, "And what if the political party who doesn't want the ruins touched, comes into power then? I think we ought to make some attempt to start work; so that at least the Unity knows whether or not they are genuinely ruins of the Builders, or just some ordinary extinct civilization—"
"I couldn't agree more, Dal," Cendri said, sighing and putting away her notes. She could not write them up in peace when Dal was in this mood. It seemed there was only one way to placate his bruised pride. She tried to make allowances for it; this was the only function he was supposed to have here, it was no wonder that he tried to make an impression the only way he could, to leave the stamp of his body on Cendri, to make up for his humiliation otherwise on this world. But she found herself helplessly resenting it, enduring it, without desire, feeling used and exhausted.
But how would I expect him to feel, here? Loyally, trying to stifle her resentment, she allowed him to lead her to the padded alcove. Amusement corner, she thought wryly, whose amusement?
Hours later she woke, to a sound like a thunderclap. A moment later she heard screens toppling over in the main part of the room, the cries of children wakened roughly out of sleep, and thought; an earthquake/ Again, so soon?
Dal was sitting up at her side, listening to the sound, everywhere in the house, of collapsing screens, rattling dishes, crying children. There was a soft, urgent rapping on their door. A low voice called, "You are safe, Scholar Dame, the worst is already over, but you must join us outdoors; it is better to remain outside until we are sure there will be no aftershocks!"
Cendri threw on a random garment, hurried down the steps, Dal at her side. She heard crying children, the sound of older children sleepily protesting. A woman she knew only by sight clutched at her arm and asked, "Will your Companion carry my little son? He is too heavy for my arms, and too sleepy to walk!"
Dal hoisted the child good-naturedly, only saying to Cendri in a low voice, "They could have asked me!" They went out on the lawn. It was an hour or two before daybreak; the air was cold, and the grass soaking wet with dew, the heavy smell of herbs hanging in the air. The women of the household were gathering on the lawn, in all stages of disarray and partial dress. Vaniya, her hair standing up wildly around her head, but nevertheless as composed and calm as if she were at a diplomatic banquet on University, was moving from group to group, talking in low, encouraging tones. Rhu, at her heels, looked drowsy and unkempt, barefoot, in a long white tunic. Vaniya came quickly, but without visible signs of hurry, toward Cendri, as Dal put the child down beside its mother.
"You are unhurt, Cendri? Good. But truly, there is no danger; there has never been any quake but the mildest, so close to We-were-guided. I hope your Companion was not too frightened? Most men are afraid to sleep above ground level." She turned to one of the women crowding close and said, "Send a messenger to the Men's House, and reassure them there is no need for alarm."
The woman hurried away. Although Vaniya seemed calm, Cendri could see that something was troubling her; her eyes moved restlessly from group to group. Everyone seemed to be out of the house now; no more women or children were coming down the steps. Vaniya said, distressed, "I do not see Miranda—where is she? Where is she? Rhu, do you see her? Cendri?"
Cendri looked around for Miranda, but the tall woman with the long dark braid and the heavy pregnant body was nowhere to be seen. Vaniya asked a woman nearby, "Where is Miranda? Do you see her anywhere?" and another, "Her room is next to yours, did you not see her come down the steps?"
"No, Mother, I thought her already gone—"
"Goddess protect us!" Vaniya turned, her face drawn with dread, and hurried back toward the steps. "Miranda! Miranda!"
Rhu ran after her; caught up with her at the foot of the steps, remonstrating firmly. "Let me go! You must not trust yourself inside again, there may be aftershocks!"
"You, Rhu? You? No, indeed, you would not be safe there!" she said in amazement, "She is my daughter, bearing my heir—I must go and find her—"
Vaniya's eldest daughter, Lialla, caught Vaniya by her arms. "Indeed, Mother," she said urgently, "You must not risk yourself, you are needed here! Zamila and I will go; but I think it most likely that Miranda simply slept through the first shocks! I almost did so myself!" She turned to Rhu, and said, "Look after her, don't let her follow us!"
Vaniya remained, twisting her hands nervously, ignoring Rhu, who was trying without success to persuade her to move away from the steps, to sit down and rest. Cendri came slowly toward her, and the Pro-Matriarch said with staccato nervousness, "I am afraid for her. She might have been hurt by something falling in her room, she might have tripped and fallen on the stairs, she might have been overcome by premature labor—I knew I should insist that she have someone to sleep in her room—"
Cendri said comfortingly, "It is most likely that she slept through the whole quake, Vaniya; it was the screens falling which wakened me."
"But Miranda is such a light sleeper," Vaniya fretted. Then, slowly, turning toward the groups of women, "I must go and see whether anyone else is missing—"
"That I will do for you," Rhu said firmly, and hurried away. Vaniya sighed and watched him go, letting herself lean heavily on the stone balustrade of the steps to the Residence. She said defensively, "I should go, but Rhu is really very capable and responsible—"
He came back after a time, saying, "Every soul in your household is here and safe, save only Miranda. Has she been found?"
Vaniya's answer was drowned by cries from the women; Cendri felt the stone balustrade beneath their hands tremble, with an obscene rippling and cracking; Dal grabbed Cendri from behind and held her upright as the balustrade broke away; Vaniya stumbled and went down. Inside the front door of the house were feminine screams; Vaniya gasped, "It is Miranda—," and struggled to her feet, thrusting away Rhu's hands. She plunged up the stairs, but Rhu hurried past her, shoving at the door; it stuck, cracked, finally came open, awry on its hinges. Inside, in the gap, Lialla and her partner appeared, leading Miranda between them. She was limping, and Vaniya cried out, stumbling up the steps toward her, clasping her daughter in her arms, crying out in dismay.
"Mother, mother, you must not be frightened," Miranda protested, holding her close. "I twisted an ankle on a fallen screen, no more, and I felt it better not to try the stairs alone, for fear of falling—" She held her mother reassuringly, in a tight hug. "Really, really, I am not hurt—my ankle pains me, that is all—"
Rhu reappeared, thrusting himself through the gap. "The balustrades are cracked and fallen; no more harm is done," he reported. "Is it—is it well with the Lady Miranda?"
"Yes, thanks to your strong arms," Miranda said. "We could not
open the door, Mother, it stuck from inside until Rhu added his
strength to ours___ "
"The Goddess be thanked," Vaniya said with a long sigh of relief, holding Miranda a little away to look gratefully at her," "When I did not see you among the household on the lawn, I thought I would die of terror! Is the child truly safe, Miranda? Shall I send for our midwives, to be with you until we are sure that the shock will have no ill effects?"
Miranda laughed, holding her hands across her bulging belly. "She is alive and well, and telling me in no uncertain way that she does not like to be hurried on the stairs," she said, gaily, "and I am out of breath, and when we get inside again I will need a length of bandage for my ankle, but I am not in labor, nor likely to be for another change-of-the-moon! I was only frightened when we found the door wedged shut, and if there had been another shock it might have fallen on top of us, the hinges were warped. But all is well, thanks to Rhu—" she gave him a little quick smile; he colored and looked away. "It is my pleasure to
serve the Lady," he said in his queer formal way.
Miranda, limping heavily on her right foot, came toward Cendri. "I trust you were not frightened, Scholar Dame, nor your Companion. We are safe here, the ground rarely shakes so close to We-were-guided—" she pointed toward the ruins. "See, they have endured unfallen for more centuries than we can measure, though some day you may indeed measure how much time has gone by that they still bestow their love and concern among us."
Cendri looked up at the ruins, thinking, somewhat bemused;
yes, that's true. How is it that the ruins there have never fallen? Did
they build in such a way that they can resist earthquake? Or did
they choose a place known to be free of quakes? It could, she
thought, hardly be that; so close to Ariadne, which had twice in the
past ten days been ravaged by a light quake____
"Look," said Lialla, "the quake must indeed have been severe;
you can see the glow of fires inside the City wall_____ "
Freed of anxiety about Miranda, the Pro-Matriarch was quickly recalled to her duty. She said to Rhu, "Go quickly, and summon my car, and a driver! Has Maret checked the instrument to find out where the quake was centered?"
"Here, Mother." The huge gross body of the woman-by-courtesy came toward them, a sheet of paper hanging from its pudgy hand.
"The recording instrument showed the center of the quake to be very near here; possibly it was worse inside the city, but it was not serious at all, the worst must be over."
"Thank you, dear child," said Vaniya, patting the puffy white fingers. "It must be over then, a quake of that strength rarely has any aftershocks, and, the Goddess be thanked, it was on land so that we need not fear any great waves on the shore! But still I must go and make certain all is well with the High Matriarch, and I must see if there is any serious damage reported to the city Mothers. Also I must be certain all is well with my colleague Mahala." She looked uneasily at Miranda. "I do not like to leave you when you are hurt—" Miranda smiled. "Mother, don't fuss; it is only a twisted ankle and my sisters can look after me perfectly well. If you don't believe me, ask Maret, she will tell you!"
Bradley, Marion Zimmer - Novel 19 Page 9