Vaniya blinked and said, "But, no, I had heard nothing of this, my sister. Where, then, are the men of Isis?"
Mahala gestured, and suddenly, for all her forceful and angry speech, she looked helpless and forlorn.
"They are on the streets of Ariadne, doing nothing," she said. "They are standing about where the cars and drivers cannot pass, they are sitting about on the curbs so that women cannot walk in the streets, they are doing nothing. They are doing nothing," she repeated.
Vaniya shrugged. She said, "When they are hungry, they will go back to work."
Mahala said, "So I too thought at first, but they have been there now all night and all day, and another night is beginning, and they have not moved. Some of them are on the shore, spearfishing; when we sent to warn them away, saying it was out of season, one of their leaders told my officer that the Goddess had given fish to the hungry, and it was theirs for the taking, and refused to desist."
"Beat a few of the leaders," Vaniya suggested, "and they will scatter."
"I have done so," Mahala said, almost in a whisper, "but we have not enough women in all Ariadne to beat them all, and already the Punishment Houses are full and overflowing!"
Cendri swallowed, thinking of Yal's defiant words: There are not enough women on Isis to beat us all to death.
"Finally," Mahala said, "a delegation came to me. They said that since you had not listened to their messenger the first time, but had simply beaten and tortured him, without the courtesy of replying, they would force you to take notice. They say that you care nothing for the Companion of the Scholar Dame from the Unity; so they have sent him with a message for you." She motioned toward the door. "A message, they say, which you dare not ignore."
Between two of Mahala's strongest women guards, Dal came into the room.
He looked tired and sleepless, but he seemed otherwise uninjured. Cendri rushed to him; he touched her hands briefly, smiling a quick, reassuring smile; then put her gently away from him. He said, "I bear a letter for Vaniya from the leader of the United Men of Isis."
Vaniya frowned and said, "I do not recognize any such group or affiliation. Men are not allowed to organize into any societies but the crafts of their trades, or the secret religious societies of the Men's Houses."
Dal said, "They are aware of that refusal, Pro-Matriarch. Nevertheless, they have sent me with a message."
"And you dare to bear it to me? Impudence!" Vaniya snorted. Dai's voice was calm.
"I am here as a representative of the Unity, Vaniya, and I bear diplomatic credentials. You need not respect them, but if you do not, the Unity will exercise sanctions against Isis. May I present the message with which the men of Isis have entrusted me?"
Vaniya said grimly, "Give me the message."
Mahala snorted. "This is what comes of your kind of liberalism, Vaniya—allowing some men to learn to read and write!"
Vaniya ignored her, tearing open the letter. She read aloud, slowly.
" 'Respect, worthy Pro-Matriarch Vaniya, from the men of—'" she frowned. "It is wretchedly ill-spelled. They list some dozen athletic guilds, and as many more Men's Houses... 'since you have seen fit to ignore our messenger Yal and not to deliver the message to its appointed destination, we have seized for ourselves a hostage you cannot ignore. No harm must come to the scholar from the Unity until he carries our message to the worlds where men are free. You will recognize this token of the hostage we hold.'" She tore at the wrappings enclosing something inside the letter, her face pale and taut; unwrapped a large pink pearl on a fine chain.
Her face drained to deathly white.
"Miranda's," she whispered. "But—she was in her room, with a midwife in attendance—" she whirled quickly on the assembled women.
"Lialla, Zamila—Maret—all of you—go quickly, see if all is well with Miranda—"
The women rushed from the room. Cendri heard their feet on the stairs. Mahala pointed to Cendri and said with anger, "It was an evil day, an accurst day when you came to Isis, Scholar Dame!"
"No," said Vaniya, looking sadly at Cendri, "it was an evil day when that one came to Isis." She pointed at Dal. He leaned close to Cendri and whispered, "Since we came on the same day, they're both right. As usual. That's the hell of it, they're both right!"
It was all Cendri could do to keep back an outburst of idiot laughter, bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her. But Dal was right. This was the real tragedy of Isis; that these two women, locked in their deadly rivalry, still wanted the same thing; they wanted what was best for Isis, as they saw it.
Suddenly, from the upper floors of the house, loud cries of consternation broke out, and the sounds of running feet on the stairs.
The women burst back into the room in a clustered group, huddling together like frightened small birds.
"Miranda," Zamila wailed. "Miranda is gone! She is nowhere in the house!"
Lialla cried, "The midwife lies unconscious on the stairs; she has been struck and we cannot revive her!"
Vaniya stared at them, blanched, her mouth trembling. Then, slowly, she turned to Cendri and Dal. She said, slowly, holding Miranda's pearl on its chain, clasped against her heavy bosom, "If any harm comes to Miranda, you will pay for this, whatever the Unity may do to me for it."
Cendri began to cry softly. Miranda, her first friend here, loved like a sister—what would become of her, pregnant and ill, in the hands of the men, at the mercy of men with the memory of generations of abuse, slavery, torture! Would they ill-treat her for Vaniya's sake, or to revenge themselves for the treatment of their messenger?
Then, and for a moment the memory seemed incongruous, she remembered the night when she had lain with the other women at the edge of the sea; remembered the adolescent boy who had given her his athlete's garland, weeping against her breast and saying that she reminded him of his mother. Suddenly she was sure they would not harm a pregnant woman, a mother. A Mother. She wished she could share this sudden certainty with Vaniya, but the older woman had not looked at her since that first angry, contemptuous rejection.
"Vaniya—" Mahala said gently, and the older woman turned dazed, suffering eyes on her. Vaniya said, in a stifled whisper, "Miranda! Goddess guard and protect her, my poor child—"
Mahala's voice was gentler than Cendri had ever heard it. She said, "Truly, truly, I grieve for you, sister, I have daughters and grand-daughters of my own. But we have a rebellion on our hands, and although I sympathize with your personal sorrow, the time leaves us no leisure for grieving. We must somehow manage to remove these men from the streets and send them back to their work and their Men's Houses. Will you delegate me the secular authority to deal with it then, sister, if you do not feel qualified to deal with it yourself?"
"I suppose you are right," Vaniya said wearily. "Miranda is my daughter, and she is brave; she must endure whatever comes to her, as every woman on our world must endure the days to come, and I cannot compromise my duty for the safety of one woman, however dear to me."
"Spoken like a true Pro-Matriarch," said Mahala. "There are weapons in the armories; they were used against predators when we cleared the land. I think we must authorize their use, now. They may resist whips and persuasion, but if we fire a few shells into their midst—"
Vaniya stared at her in horror. She said, "My sister, this would be war!"
Mahala's voice was angry. "You who are lost in your religious sentiment, my sister, do you not yet recognize that the men have forced this war upon us?"
Vaniya twisted her big hands together. She said tensely, "My dear sister, of what worth is the Matriarchate if we violate its ethical principles the first time they are put to a test? With these ears I heard you say, when you protested the coming of the Scholar from Unity: the maleworlds perish and are destroyed because every society made by men turns to violence, to war, to entropy and decay. If we must fight and kill to enforce our will on the men, my beloved sister, then we might as well turn over the rule of this world to the men at once, for
already we are living as the maleworlds do!"
Mahala's mouth fell open. She stared at her fellow Pro-Matriarch in dismay as the truth of Vaniya's words penetrated to her. "You are right," she acknowledged in a whisper. "It seems that the rule of the maleworlds is already upon us, then, whatever we do or refrain from doing! My sister, what shall we do? What shall we do?" It was a cry of utter despair.
Vaniya held out her arms, and the two Pro-Matriarchs clung together. It seemed to Cendri that Mahala's shoulders heaved as if with silent weeping; over her head, even while she embraced and soothed her colleague, Vaniya stared grimly into the distance.
At last she said, in the gentlest of voices, "Mahala, there is only one answer now. We must seek out aid from those who are wiser than we. Will you come with me to We-were-guided, Mahala, and put the question to those who in the first days of our arrival here, welcomed and counseled us?"
Mahala raised her head. Her eyes were tearless and red. She said, "It goes against reason, Vaniya, but I admit that reason has helped me little in this crisis. There seems no other source for help. Yet I have little hope that we will find counsel there, in the dead city."
Vaniya said quietly, "If you find no counsel there to your liking, sister, then when we leave We-were-guided I shall at once relinquish to you all control of the secular forces of Ariadne. I give you my word, which I have never broken, that I ask only that you come with me, as you have never been willing to do, and hear the words of the wise ones there who helped me to find Rezali's ring and robe. All things are known to them, and they will know what to do in this crisis, too."
Mahala bowed her head. She said, "In this crisis I am willing to turn anywhere, even to a ghost."
The preparations took only a few moments. When the procession left the Pro-Matriarch's residence, it was growing dark, and Cendri and Dal followed in the train of the two Pro-Matriarchs as, each accompanied by her household, they climbed the steep path toward the dark loom of the dead city of We-were-guided. Cendri walked head down, lost in misery, remembering how she had come here before with Vaniya, how Something had spoken to her from the site of the ancient starship. She was hardly conscious of Dal at her side until he stumbled and cursed in an undertone; then she said, reaching for his hand, "Dal, I was so frightened—did they hurt you?"
"Hurt me? Cendri, I had to stop them from trying to worship me," he said softly. "They did not believe that there were really worlds where men were free. You would not believe how they crave learning.. .1 think they want it even more than freedom; because with learning, they say, they could prove they were equal and prove worthy of their freedom! And when they found I was a Master Scholar—Cendri, I was treated with reverence! Reverence!" he repeated. "They wouldn't have hurt a shadow of my clothing, or a hair of my head!" He laughed softly, but it was not a mirthful sound. "Poor devils, poor devils! Some of them feared the idea of learning as much as they desired it! One of them, when he heard I had spent all my life in study, asked if it had not made me impotent! And I thought Rhu was badly off! Sharrioz!"
"Dal, did you foment this rebellion?"
He sighed and shook his head. "God help me, no, I was selfish enough to protest. I never thought about anything but my own work of exploring the ruins. I was only the catalyst, coming at the precise time when the men were ready for some such thing."
The night was hot and dark; the moons, waning from full, hovered at the edge of the sky, Cendri moved along, wearily, following the glimmer of Vaniya's torch, trailing in the train of the two Pro-Matriarchs.
She said at last, "How is it that you are coming here, Dal? I thought you were against the idea that the ruins could be a center of religious worship."
In the dark she could not see his face but his voice sounded faintly amused. He said, "I suppose I want to see anything that could make Mahala give way like that. Or maybe, like her, I feel the situation's just fouled up enough that we ought to try anything. Maybe I just have to keep track of what the government of Isis, such as it is—he gestured at the dim forms of the two women ahead of them—"are going to do now, and how it affects the Unity." He shook his head. "I didn't think anything would make Mahala draw in her horns. She reminds me a lot—in a way, they're not at all alike—of the Scholar Dame di Velo. Come to think, so does Vaniya."
Cendri knew what he meant. It was the aura of personal power, the force of personality, the elusive thing called charisma. She said, "I know what you mean," and in the darkness, Dal reached out and clasped her hand.
He whispered, "You have it too, sometimes, Cendri. When you're mad enough." And his arm went round her waist, so that under cover of the darkness they walked enlaced.
By torchlight, picking their way carefully over the stones, the women found their way inside the gates of the dead city known as We-were-guided, wound slowly through the canyons between the giant unknown structures, where nothing stirred except the dim nightwind, and night birds rustled along the shore. Far below the waves broke and sighed.
Dal whispered, "What happens here?"
"I can't tell you, Dal. You'll just have to—to see." She was remembering, painfully, what Vaniya had said.
In all of the years we have come here, those at We-were-guided have spoken to no male.
But maybe the males never listened....
They came slowly across the great open space, at the far end of which loomed the spaceship. Cendri began to feel the first overlapping waves of the welcoming warmth.
/ am here, you are loved... I welcome you___
But for the first time she resisted, fighting against the irresistible tide of rapture creeping upward into her brain.
No. No. Not this time! It is too important for that! Do you know who we are? Do you know why we have come here? Who are you?
The licking warmth seemed to hesitate, to flood back, to withdraw and advance and retreat in waves, and then Cendri sensed something else. It was the same as the warmth. It had the same mental feel. It was not precisely in words; she knew it was her own brain translating the contact into words because it was the only way to make the experience of contact comprehensible.
Yes. We—know. A curious positiveness about it, and then a quick crawling sensation as if—Cendri described it later—as if some enormous force had picked me up, turned me inside-out, looked at every idea or thought I'd ever had since the day 1 was born, ruffled through my mind turning over all the ideas it found there, patted me on the head like a puppy and put me down again. And all through that tremendous, tender, loving warmth____
She heard Dal say—and knew he was not speaking aloud, "Did you build this City, then?"
And the voice, answering, still radiating these same waves of loving warmth.. .she glanced at Dal, saw his face glowing with the same joyousness... .No. We did not build the City. We came here from space, when these women came. We had need of them, as they had need of us.
Now she heard.. .or sensed; how did you translate into words an experience that was not in words at all, a touch that said clearly in her mind, Vaniya, and a wordless, You see, Mahala?"
I see. But they speak to the man!
And Vaniya's thoughts, flowing with surprise and indignation. Never before, never, have you spoken to men.. .why now?
And the alien thoughts, wrapped in warmth; and yet with a touch of chill that made Cendri tremble with sudden terror. Your mind lied to us. We saw your men only through your thoughts. Now we know that you have lied to us.
We spoke truth, Vaniya's mind flamed with indignation, men
are not fit__
As fit as your first Foremother Alicia, when she rebelled against
men's dominance on Pioneer___
And Mahala, angry and terrified at once: What do you know of our First Foremother?
Whatever your mind knows is known to me, beloved.. .and the surging, compelling ripples of tenderness.
Dal was almost gasping with excitement.
He whispered half aloud to Cendri, "An alien race. Not the Builders, but a disem
bodied race.. .cosmic clouds? Atoms? Gaseous entities? Needing to live in symbiosis with another race because of their endless loneliness, desiring love. Pretending to be Gods to get it!"
Yes, you are right, my alien son, we have allowed our need for the love of our daughters to blind us to the needs of others who cry out for our comfort.. .and these have lied to us.. .Cendri could feel in her own breast the surge of alien anger. Vaniya! You have lied to us, we will speak to you no more----
And sudden, shocking, dead, cold emptiness.
Cendri came awake as if icy surf had splashed over her. The faint light still glowed from the ruins of the ancient spaceship and all around them the faint luminosity of the city shone with its own interior gleam. But there was no warmth, no voice, no lapping ripples of tenderness. The voice was silent. The moonlight had risen high over the city now, and Cendri could see the faces of the women, shocked and quiet, weeping. Vaniya covered her face with her hands, shaking, bereft. Cendri felt shock and pity at the naked anguish of deprivation on the woman's face.
They have been with her so long, so long. Since first she came here as a young woman, coming with her from space to this world, settling here, supporting her, helping her, till she grew dependent on their love and concern. And she led other women to them, so that they fed on this devotion and in turn gave pleasure to those who came to communicate with them.
And by coming here, by asking a simple question, Dal has destroyed these long years of blind, mindless devotion. But what will Vaniya do now? What will she do? Vaniya was looking at Dal with naked hate.
I don't blame her. He has robbed her of her Goddess.. .and yet he did nothing wrong. Why do the innocent have to suffer?
Slowly, with drooping steps, Vaniya turned away from the ancient ship. Her head was bent and she stumbled as she walked. Cendri, impulsively, stepped forward and laid her arm around the old woman, supporting her steps. For a moment she feared Vaniya would rebuff her with a rebirth of anger, but Vaniya was too sunk in her own anguish to care. She leaned on Cendri as they came out of the dead city and started down the hill; then Lialla, behind them, cried out in dismay and fear.
Bradley, Marion Zimmer - Novel 19 Page 27