Bradley, Marion Zimmer - Novel 19

by The Ruins of Isis (v2. 1)

  "No, no, no," he interrupted, almost pleading, and she thought, I never realized how much this meant to him! "Don't you see what it might mean, Cendri? It would mean that the Builders left all their records and artifacts for us, when we could get around to a technology that would understand them! We'd have to break into it, but they've left a key for us, we just have to learn to use it! All the Builder technology—think of it, Cendri! But it will mean none of our force-field breakers will be any good, no laser ever made will cut inside—we'd need theoretical physicists of the highest order here, but if we get in, the whole Builder culture is waiting there for us! Think of it, Cendri!" He was pale and sweating with excitement.

  She felt almost angry. Wasn't it enough, she wondered, that she was prepared to tolerate his attachment to one crackpot theory, the existence of the hypothetical Builders who had seeded the Galaxy with intelligent life, without being required to be patient and tolerant with another one? Time stasis indeed!

  Although, come to think of it, it might possibly explain why the ruins were so very well-preserved!

  But it was getting dark, and all of Vaniya's people were standing there, waiting. She said, "Do we need to do anything more today, Dal?"

  "No, you can send all the people who are just fetching and carrying, back home," he said, "but I think we'll need Laurina to arrange about tomorrow."

  Cendri dismissed Vaniya's people. Rhu, though reluctantly, begged leave to go with them; Vaniya, he said, might require his presence when she returned from the city. Dal, Cendri and Laurina sat on the steps in the courtyard with the dry, forgotten fountains where she had seen Rhu and Miranda—was it only yesterday?

  "We have hardly made a beginning," Dal said, "though we have graphics of all the exteriors, I think. Tomorrow—I think we need a plan and a schedule." He pulled out writing instruments and a storage-note copier. "Let me see; tomorrow I want to take soil scrapings, and try to get access to a computer to analyze them. I have to bring up a laser, and see if we can cut into one of the smaller buildings. Maybe X-ray equipment first, to see if we can get a line on what's inside; we don't want to risk damaging the contents of any building. I want to try and adapt the force-breakers, too, to work with a couple of little-known frequencies; we tested only the most common ones today. That will take two days. Meanwhile we will have to send to University for everything known of the other suspected Builder ruins, though I have copies of the Dame di Velo's notes, and I'll have to recheck them. Or can I put you on that, Cendri? You, Laurina," he added, "You are a historian?"

  She whispered, in shock, "Yes—"

  "I want you to take tomorrow off and check your—do you keep your information in libraries or computer terminals or what? I want to know everything that's happened at this site since the Isis colony landed here, and everything you were told about the place before you landed here. Is that fairly clear to you?"

  She nodded, and Dal went on, rapidly outlining a clear, comprehensive schedule for studying the ruins, bit by bit, before actually getting inside any given structure. Cendri, who knew that the sound of his voice would activate her voice-scriber, listened, admiring the brilliance and clarity with which Dal, after only a single day of observation, could mount a comprehensive plan of attack against the secrets of the ruins of We-were-guided.

  He finished winding up the plan, and stretched, yawning. "We'd better get back, then. Supper is going to look awfully good, now we've actually gotten something done," he said, "Ready, Cendri?"

  She nodded, and they got to their feet. But as Laurina got up, she reeled against Cendri, and Cendri saw that the red-headed woman had gone pale, her freckles standing out like blotches in the lowering sunset.

  "Laurina, what's wrong? Have we tired you too much, this first day?"

  "It isn't that," she said faintly, looking after Dal as he started down the hill. "Cendri—Cendri, I am—I am frightened. I had never believed that a male could—could make a clear and comprehensive plan like this, full of logic and good sense. An adult, functioning male."

  Cendri said with a sigh of weary patience, "I told you, my—my Companion is a Master Scholar on University."

  "I can understand—on worlds where males make the rules, their kind of scholarship is accepted as best, it must be," she said, shaking, "but this—this is real. It is, perhaps, a little too linear, a little too left-brained, but it is real scholarship, real intelligence. It frightens me, Cendri, because I could not have done as well myself. And if a male—an adult male, subject to the compulsive sex drives which keep them from learning—can do this well, then where is the virtue or benefit in being a woman? I'm frightened, Cendri. Do you really want to destroy all the scholars on Isis this way, letting them know that a man can so easily equal or almost surpass their best accomplishments?"

  "I do not see how any scholar worth the name could be destroyed by having her assumptions challenged," Cendri said, but then she did understand. Laurina's whole way of life was based on the assumption that women were a superior kind of being, that no man could possibly be capable of her kind of rational thought.

  Dal had said something like this about Pioneer; that when it was brought home to them that there were women actually as strong and capable as men, some of the men of Pioneer felt their masculinity challenged. Was this the kind of culture shock Laurina was facing?

  Cendri could see that Laurina's self-confidence, her very self-concept, had been shaken to the roots. Could she survive that, undamaged? Could the culture of Isis survive being told such things?

  Was a way of life, good in itself and workable, expendable just in order to make a point the Unity wanted made?

  She put her arm around Laurina, feeling the young woman lean on her. Protectively, she started down the hill, saying, "Laurina, it's not that serious—" but she knew Laurina could not take it in, not yet. Laurina's open hero-worship gave her, Cendri, a responsibility. How could she let Laurina be damaged this way? She wondered if Laurina would be there tomorrow to work with them—or if she, Cendri, shouldn't dismiss the girl for her own good. But wouldn't that be true of any worker they got from Isis? Sooner or later they would have to know the truth.

  Had they really been sent here by the Unity to destroy the culture of Isis?

  Was a culture which Jived by a lie really worth preserving, then?

  The first law by which an anthropologist lived was—do nothing to damage the culture you are sent to study.

  But if they live by laws which cannot survive against other cultures—what then? The history of culture was full of cultures which had been destroyed—vandalized—by forcing them into contact with irreconcilables. The history of the Galaxy was the worse for that destruction. Distressed beyond words at what she seemed to have done without meaning any harm, she said nothing except, "I think you are over-tired, Laurina. Maybe it will all look better to you tomorrow."

  She had not been sent here to show the Matriarchate of Isis the error of their ways! They had a right to their own truths and their own culture! It was not up to her to destroy it!

  She would speak to Dal, and warn him about what he had done. Meanwhile—she stumbled, realizing that she herself was wearied almost to exhaustion. There was no way she could make rational judgments about comparative truths and ethics now. She said, "I'm tired, aren't you, Laurina? I'll be awfully glad to get into a hot bath and some fresh clothes, and have one of Vaniya's good dinners."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  But they did not go to the ruins at We-were-guided the next day.

  Dal was in high spirits that night as they washed off the grime and dust of the ruins. He sang, and teased Cendri good-naturedly about her "admirer." And at Vaniya's table that night he spent some time, of his own free will, talking with Rhu—which, Cendri thought, would ease somewhat the friction of having it known that her Companion did not like Vaniya's. Later, before they slept, he said thoughtfully, "I think I may start teaching Rhu to operate some of our equipment. Maybe all the kid needs is self-confidence. He's not so d
umb, he's just been taught never to open his mouth, that's all." And Cendri was greatly relieved.

  But the next morning, as they were making their preparations for the day, and Vaniya was receiving petitioners, a messenger entered the hall who made Vaniya frown and Miranda look deeply troubled. But Vaniya, as always, was calm.

  "Well, Clarita, I know you for my worthy colleague Mahala's messenger; how can I serve you?"

  "Respect, Pro-Matriarch, my message is not for you, but for the honored guest of the Matriarchate," said the woman. "I bring a message and an invitation for the Scholar Dame from University."

  Vaniya frowned and said, with obvious reluctance, "The Scholar Dame has begun her work and is engaged."

  The woman Clarita said smoothly, "Is this the message I am to bear to the Pro-Matriarch Mahala, then, that you would not allow me to deliver the message to the honored guest of the Matriarchate?"

  Vaniya chewed her lip and said, with ill grace, "No, of course not. Cendri—" she turned toward them, "the Pro-Matriarch Mahala, my colleague, has sent you a messenger."

  Clarita turned toward Cendri and made the Unity's formal gesture, hands clasped before the face. Cendri had grown so accustomed to the informality of the Matriarchate and Vaniya's household that it startled her, seemed completely inappropriate. Clarita said, "The worthy Pro-Matriarch Mahala regrets that she has seen nothing of the Scholar Dame from University, while her colleague Vaniya has had the privilege of entertaining the honored guest and showing her the hospitality of her household. It is now the pleasure and the privilege of the Pro-Matriarch Mahala to state that she has arranged a formal entertainment for the Scholar Dame this afternoon, and to invite her and her Companion to attend as guests. We have arranged an athletic competition in her honour, and her Companion is respectfully invited and urged to compete in any event of its particular interest and skill."

  Cendri blinked. An—an athletic competition? And Dal invited to compete? She looked uncertainly at Vaniya. Dal was wearing his Get-me-out-of-this! look. Cendri felt completely at a loss. She said in an undertone to Miranda, who was—as usual—sitting close beside her, a mark of honor, "Now that our work has begun, I hate to break it off like this. Is there any way I can refuse without making trouble?"

  Miranda shook her head. She said, in a troubled voice, "No, I'm afraid not. This is the highest mark of honor that can be given to an individual, to arrange such an entertainment for her particular, special benefit. In a sense it is an attempt to reproach my mother that she has not done so—as if my mother had been neglectful, not paying enough honor to our honored guests. To refuse would indicate that you have allied yourself entirely with my mother's political adherents. I don't understand politics, but I know that this is something you cannot do, coming from the Unity."

  This was the second time that Miranda had specifically disclaimed any knowledge of politics, but Cendri thought that she had nevertheless a very good grasp of them. She liked Vaniya; the Pro-Matriarch had showed her kindness, it seemed, far beyond ordinary courtesy to an official guest. So had Miranda. And yet the official policy of the Unity absolutely forbade aligning herself with any specific political faction. She raised her eyes to Mahala's messenger and said with resignation, "Tell the Pro-Matriarch Mahala that we shall be honored."

  Dal looked glum; but he had heard Miranda's words, and was resigned to the loss of a day. The messenger Clarita said, "I shall bring word of your acceptance to the Mother Mahala. She bade me say further that you are requested most cordially to lunch with the Pro-Matriarch in private before the Games—"

  Damnation, thought Cendri. She knew Dal was counting on at least a half day to consider and consolidate the previous day's work. She was tempted to plead the press of work; but Clarita added, pointedly, "Thus you will confer upon the Pro-Matriarch Mahala an honor which has already been given to the Mother Vaniya," and Cendri resignedly told the Messenger that it would be a pleasure.

  "Would your Companion care to compete in any of the events? Does it swim, box, wrestle or race? Some excellent prizes have been offered by the Council of Elders, and it is welcome to compete for any or all of them."

  Nonplussed, Cendri glanced at Dal, who was frowning in amazement. She floundered for a sufficiently diplomatic answer. "My Companion is not sufficiently familiar with the rules of contests of such sort on this world, and requests politely that it may be excused."

  Clarita bowed. She said, "The Pro-Matriarch will await you at the noon hour, then, and you will be her guests in the Official Box." She added to Vaniya, "The Pro-Matriarch Mahala cordially requests that you, Mother, your Companion, and such of your daughters as wish to see the entertainment shall be invited to join them in the Official Box as well."

  Vaniya said, "Tell my colleague I am obliged to her and I shall be present if my duties allow." When Clarita had gone she sat frowning, letting her food get cold, not speaking. Finally she said to Cendri, "I suppose this, or something like it, was inevitable. My colleague has been jealous of me since we were little girls on the mother-world of Persephone. I had thought—actually, I had hoped—that when she prevented the students from the college from coming to assist you, Cendri, that she had simply decided to wash her hands of the entire project, and take her chances that the High Matriarch will recover long enough to name her as successor." She frowned. "I must go at once to inquire about our Mother, see if Rezali's condition has changed. This new maneuver by Mahala means that she is not quite as secure as she might be. She wants to make certain that she will have some connection with the Scholar from University—" Cendri realized that by now, Vaniya was simply thinking aloud. With an effort, the older woman smiled at her guest. She said, "In any case, my dear, you and your Companion are certain to enjoy the games."

  She excused herself, and Cendri, resigned to the loss of a day, consulted Miranda about the proper dress for such an event, and went to make ready.

  To her surprise, Dal was less irritable than she had feared. "We can't spend all our time working," he said, "and I know you wanted to see something of what the men do here. It will take us a day or two to evaluate yesterday's data, anyhow."

  Cendri nodded, deliberately trying to look on the bright side. This might even remove some obstacles from her way; she remembered the message Laurina had relayed; until she had seen and spoken with the Scholar Dame, Mahala was unwilling to trust to the scholarship of a male-centered world. This might serve to reassure the other Pro-Matriarch that Cendri was not a threat to the Matriarchate. While she robed herself in the light cool robe which Miranda had suggested for such an event, she had to dismiss a recurrent thought that she was being disloyal to Vaniya.

  Fiercely she berated herself. She was an anthropologist, a scientist of University. She wasn't supposed to form any alliances here that would jeopardize that; allying herself with any faction whatsoever would obviously be unethical. Theoretically she should have the same kind of regard for the unknown Mahala as for Vaniya, for Miranda.

  Restlessly she went to the window and looked down at the distant ruins of We-were-guided, lying bland and unrevealing in the sun.

  It is a bond between us. We have stood together before their shrine, felt—felt something. It was real, it wasn't an illusion.

  And yet I am not supposed to form such bonds....

  "Athletic competition," said Dal, coming up behind her. "Why, of all things, an athletic competition? You're supposed to be the anthropologist, Cendri, why should their entertainment take that form?"

  "I don't know, Dal."

  "I could understand it, if it were the women of the society competing—demonstrating their strength and aggression. But why do they have men competing?"

  Cendri could only hazard a guess. "Possibly it's the one form of aggression they permit men in this society, a socially allowable form of outlet? I'll have to see it first, Dal, I can't make guesses."

  Since none of the cars would hold all of the Pro-Matriarch's party, Vaniya elected to go in one vehicle with Miranda, leaving D
al and Cendri, with Rhu to escort them, in the other.

  They had not been in the city of Ariadne since their first day there, the day of the earthquake. Much of the rubble had been cleared away, but the amount of construction being done startled Cendri, and she asked, "Is this all the aftermath of the quake the day we came here, or the small one the other night, Rhu?"

  "Oh, no; there was a great quake here, almost one of our Long Years ago. Had Vaniya not received a warning from the Inquirers and from We-were-guided, the city would have been destroyed. As it was, many, many lives were lost. Now I see they have the recycling plant in operation again, to process gold and magnesium from seawater for export." His face gave a cynical twist. "But our balance of payments is nothing to me. I am much more interested in the rebuilding of the Symphony Hall. Vaniya has promised that if I continue to please her—" Cendri thought she had never heard anything as bitter as Rhu's voice, "she will arrange to have my first two symphonies performed, as well as the cantata I am now finishing."

  "Do you compose too, Rhu?" Dal asked, and the Companion sighed and said, "I turned to composing after my voice was destroyed by growth. There was really nothing else for me."

  Dal said impulsively, "I wish you would not say that your voice was destroyed. It has only matured and is more beautiful than ever."

  Rhu stared bleakly out the window. "A man would say so,"

  Cendri said quickly, "Rhu, you have the most beautiful voice I have ever heard. On any world in the Unity it would make your fortune; thousands would be at your feet in admiration."

  Rhu looked at her, his face twisting. "I cannot believe there is any civilized world in the Galaxy where a rough voice like mine is preferred to the beautiful soprano I once possessed."

  Cendri said, feeling the sadness in his words clutch at her heart, "I wish you could sing on University; you would soon believe the truth of what I say."