by Nōnen Títi
She emerged from the dark interior looking like most people today: exhausted.
“I want you in my home in four minutes.”
She agreed with a nod. She could have run, but she hadn’t. Nini had told him she’d been at the stream, just wanting to be alone. She’d come down without Nini having to ask. Was she aware of how serious this could be? Without a doubt.
Benjamar entered his home and poured a drink of water. Would she fight this to the end? Just how far would that be and what did it prove? How much were people willing to risk for a conviction? She may have seen the pebbles he’d dumped. She’d most definitely noticed the fog moving on.
She walked in without the normal courtesy call. Even now she showed nothing to make him think she was sorry. Maybe last night was unintended coincidence, but her attitude here was not. It implied that she would, indeed, stick with the challenge, regardless of the circumstances, regardless of the pain it caused Nini.
Of course, he could play this game too. He could play it and win. He pulled her little challenge note out of his pocket and held it up to her. “Ironic that you have to write this just before the whole village goes to hell. Before you go out and prove your words.”
She glanced down for a moment and then frowned.
“I have no idea where to start, Jema. First you come and challenge everything I have ever believed in. On top of that you go out of your way to hurt people. Everything that happened between you and others in the last two days has been in your hands. You decide you know what’s best for all people. You go right in there and try to take charge of their lives. You knew Frimon was emotional. You had a fight with him before, but you still went. How clever was that?”
As much drama as Laytji had thrown in, so it was stoicism that was upheld here, and it was just as much an act. He trusted Nini’s judgement in that.
“Now we have one man dead, one injured, and a lot of people really angry. We have no council, no jury, and no guidelines. What we do have is the fog, which could turn around and kill at random and which has many people very frightened. So what am I to do? You tell me that, because I don’t know.”
She shrugged but did not produce an answer, nor did she look at him.
“I’m still in charge of this village, Jema, and as long as I am, you will answer to me, regardless of elections or challenges. What we’re dealing with here is what happened last night and I need answers.”
“I haven’t got any.”
That was not acceptable, and he wasn’t going to be pushed around anymore. “I’m not done thinking about this yet, so I’m going outside and you can stay here and wait until I’m ready.”
She didn’t move, so he turned and walked outside to sit on the bench. He could rest there just as much. Let her wait a while. It couldn’t hurt. Time had certainly worked with Tigor. Of course, Jema wasn’t out of control the way Tigor had been; in fact, she might have a better hold of the situation than Benjamar did at the moment. He watched his home. She didn’t have to do as he ordered yet, not by the rules of the challenge at least, but she didn’t come out.
After a while he went to find Yako, who had been a witness to that treyak. “I want your opinion. Was she right to ask what she did for the village? I’m no longer sure. I hate to admit that I was wrong, but I’d hate it even more if I was too bigheaded to acknowledge that I made a mistake and put the long term future of the colony in danger.” He mentioned the fog’s reaction to the pebbles. “At least that’s what it seemed like.”
“I can’t be sure either, Benjamar. I always trusted that an otacy would work, but I’m beginning to wonder if that’s possible. It’s between you and Jema, ultimately.”
“Look, I don’t want your diplomacy right now. I need your honesty.”
“Okay, she convinced me. And not just her; everything that has happened here and in town and in all of DJar history. Still, there’s no telling if similar things wouldn’t have happened without elections.”
“Could a kennin fall in the wrong hands?”
“I’m sure it could, but not as fast. They had a way to check up on each other. The council members would have been picked at a young age for special qualities in their personality. Those who picked and trained them were the elders. They weren’t in it for the short term, either. It was a job for life.”
“How big were those kennin? What is the size limit before it won’t work anymore?”
“I don’t know that either, Benjamar. There’s only one way to find out.”
“So, if I recall the elections, would you stand by me?”
“Sure,” Yako said. “I’d be proud to.”
Jema was startled by the shock her body made as her mind had drifted off. She was instantly alert again. How long now? Must be more than an hour. It was silly to think in hours or minutes anymore; timedisks were useless on Kun DJar. Only the words had stuck. “Four minutes” he’d said earlier, which meant she’d had just enough time to walk to the latrines and back. Good thing she had. She scanned the room again. Typical Benjamar: no clutter but a few memories of Jitsi and one big drawing of his family on the wall.
She shifted her weight. She’d have liked to sit down but she had not been invited to and she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of telling her so. So she’d remained standing, thinking he wouldn’t be long; then thinking he was taking a long time on purpose. For a fleeting moment she even wondered if he’d forgotten, but she knew better. This wait was no accident. He would come in later and have all the facts, all the details, and all his words prepared. In the meantime he left her to think it over, to worry a bit. It wasn’t a game but the rules were clear.
She’d considered walking out but too much had happened outside of the challenge. He had been right. Everything had been her fault for trying to push her opinion, and why? It would have been much easier not to make that challenge. Nobody else seemed to care; they’d been excited about the elections. Despite simply repeating what they heard about Kun DJar as a conscious being, they couldn’t see the big picture. But it had been so clear to Jema once Nini had shown her the chart, and like so often before she’d put her foot down, the same way she’d found herself in trouble on DJar.
All but Kaspi had turned away then. There might be nobody left here. She frightened them with words she’d never planned to use, defending herself before being attacked. She had expected accusations, but Benjamar had made none, at least none about Frimon. Why had she not given him his answers? Bue knew he deserved them. He’d been right to pull his authority. She’d been wrong to go to Frimon, wrong to have stepped in and wrong to walk away after. She definitely shouldn’t have made that stupid remark when she returned. She’d blown it with Nini as well now; Nini, who’d never harmed anybody, who had been there to try and save his life, and who hated this challenge. Never mind all the others who’d been hurt – as always, those who didn’t deserve it, like Nori, Daili, and now Leni. By Bue, Leni and Rorag! Here she was worrying about what people would think, while Rorag had lost his father and Leni… How selfish was that?
No, she couldn’t go back home and think it would all blow over. It wouldn’t. She could leave the village and run, but that would also be wrong. Besides, it was easier to be inside, away from the looks and the whispers. The dimming light at the entrance told her that Kun was going down. The amount of voices outside increased. People were gathering, probably for the election results. What if Frimon had won?
She almost jumped at the sound of Yako’s voice when he stuck his head in. “Benjamar says for you to come out. He’s called a meeting.”
It was a relief to walk. As was normal the crowd was assembling behind his home where there was a large space, but instead of on the back ledge of his own home, this time Benjamar stood on that of one of the homes on the other side of the assembly area. It meant that Jema could stay at the back. Yako stood beside her.
Benjamar waited until the last murmurs died down. The good thing about this silent planet was that he didn’t have to ra
ise his voice to be heard even from where Jema stood.
“The elections,” Benjamar began, and then paused to let his gaze go over the crowd. “The elections had a great impact on this place. The expectations were high, yet the moment I announced them, the moment I threatened to withdraw from solving trivial quarrels and give the responsibility to you, something happened. I won’t go into detail. Every one of you is aware of the fights and accidents of the last two days. So, instead of announcing the outcome of the votes, I am here to declare them void. The results were inconclusive and ultimately unacceptable with one of the candidates dead and another one up for trial on account of violent and destructive behaviour. This decision will be final. No new elections will be held.”
Jema looked at Yako when the crowd started to get noisy. He winked back at her, while Benjamar raised his hands to stop the voices.
“During the last moons I’ve been confronted with the idea that an elected council, an otacy, is not the only way for people to have a say in the running of a community. I admit that my first reaction to the alternative was to not take it seriously. My belief was in what I had learned constituted freedom. It took a long time for me to recognize that I was wrong and I’m not expecting to convince you in this speech.
“We are a small community, which may be a blessing. Even so, we had a large group of people back up four farmers in what was, for the moment, an illegal action and deliberately destructive to the natural environment. We’ve seen a much bigger group cheering on an act of physical abuse without anybody stepping in to stop it. Neither are acts that help raise confidence in a society governed by the people. Both acts were initiated by election candidates. Both candidates would have had a large proportion of the votes. That is not the future for this village.”
Jema realized that she was squeezing Yako’s arm. She let go and stepped up on the ledge to lean against the shelter. She observed the faces around her as Benjamar started talking about how people used to live in small communities like theirs, how they used to function with a council of respected elders, where everybody had a place and every place was equally valuable, though not equal. A hierarchy with one kollen at the top.
“As we have been turning back the timedisk in our everyday lives and our technology, ever since embarking on SJilai, I now believe that we can also turn back the disk in the running of the society. Back to the way DJar started: back to the kennin.”
He was doing it! He’d not only taken back the elections, but he was talking about the kennin. He had openly admitted that he didn’t believe his system was right. More than that, he’d said he’d been wrong. She had expected him to master the challenge, and though she hadn’t really believed he’d come up with overwhelming evidence that an otacy could work, she had still not believed he would do this.
She suddenly felt him look at her over the heads of the crowd. She couldn’t see his expression, but it would be more amused than complacent, amused at having surprised her. He coughed before resuming his speech, once again holding up his hands to bid for silence.
“Sorry, people.” He coughed again. “Before I go on to explain some more, my servant will get me some water.”
It didn’t take her more than two fractions but Yako was quicker. “He’s done it. You have no choice. Go get the water.”
Get water, from where? Bring it to him? In front of all those people he’d called for his servant…
“Go do as he said, inside his home. Don’t give him the chance to crush you in front of everybody.”
Jema walked along the ledge to the entrance. Yako was right. Benjamar wouldn’t take long to emphasize this status change. Bue, how embarrassing!
She had to stop for a breath while pouring the water from the jug or it would have spilled all over the ground. He had planned this, down to the very first cough, down to his being on the other side of the area. After having made her wait for more than an hour this shouldn’t have surprised her. Only a few people had been present at the challenge, but everybody would witness her demise.
She carried the water out of the shelter. He had not continued speaking but was waiting for it. She kept her eyes on the cup and traversed around the crowd; the long way, not through the middle of them. She felt their looks. Now all she needed to do was fall over and drop the cup. She held it tight. Who cared about the mob anyway? It was Benjamar who stood up there. It couldn’t have been easy for him either. Next they’d accuse him of being a self-indulged tyrant turning his people into personal slaves. Yet Benjamar wouldn’t be played with. This whole performance was meant to make that very clear. She’d known that, of course.
There was a twinkle in his eyes when she handed him the cup. He took a sip and then gave it back to her. “If I asked you to go down on your knees right now, would you do it?” he asked quietly. He didn’t wait for a response but straightened up. “Just stay there.”
Of course! Jema bit her lip. Would she? Do as he says when he says it without protest? A servant, she’d thought, was helping out; the water, yes, do some rotten jobs for him. She’d not considered this. Could she go on her knees and beg him if he said so? She knew the answer, but could she dishonour the challenge? And what had Yako said about a counter-challenge?
Benjamar’s voice and attention was with his audience. He repeated that the events of the last days had convinced him that this was the only option. He would select a council of people who had the respect and trust of himself and many others, people who had proven in this first Kun DJar year to have personal qualities and skills that would benefit the stability and vision of the new kennin. All others would be able to raise any issue with these council members at any time and would not be ignored, and neither would the issues that had been the focus of the elections.
He was great. He was explaining to them what she’d tried to tell him, but in clearer words: that which came from Daili’s ideal and Nini’s chart.
He paused a moment and she could feel him looking down at her. She held her breath, but he turned back to the audience, saying it would be the task of the council to find a solution to all problems. “So, I’m telling you now that this is the way it will be. That means that those of you who feel you cannot live in such a system will have to make a choice. This continent is large; there is space enough to start other communities if you want. Or you can move back to town where they have an elective otacy in place. Those of you who wish to stay will have to accept that this decision will not be changed. In due time we’ll review its validity, but that could be as much as another Kun DJar year away.”
Through her lashes Jema scanned the crowd for Leni or the kids, but they weren’t there. She’d have to go to them, to say sorry, but how?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the mention of her name. One of Frimon’s followers was accusing Benjamar of having made this decision only to protect Jema.
“I would never give up my principles for anybody’s protection,” he answered.
“You can’t decide for all of us. That isn’t equal representation!” shouted somebody who’d clearly not been paying attention.
“That’s right. It’s arocracy, alone rule like AR, and if you’re asking me if that’s fair, I can only say that it can or cannot be, just as much as an otacy can or cannot be fair. There is not one right answer. I’m not expecting you all to walk away from here without protest. I can already hear the complaints about an old man unwilling to give up his position of power. But this is no dictatorship; nobody is being thrown out or forced to stay. You may feel about this as you wish but it won’t change my decision.”
Once started, the crowd came up with more questions and objections. Benjamar did nothing to deny any accusations made him. In fact, he appeared to agree with them. Jema admired his calm.
“They caused the trouble,” the agitated Society man told Benjamar, meaning the farmers. “We didn’t do anything.”
“That’s right, you didn’t.”
The man didn’t register the message. “You side with her. We wan
t justice. You can’t let this go unnoticed.”
“That’s right and she will be punished, but not by you.”
Jema cringed. On trial in public and nowhere to go. How much more humiliation would he put her through? This was probably only be the beginning.
Benjamar raised his hands, at which the crowd went silent. Even now, when shouting their disagreement, they all obeyed his commands.
“If you people had been outspoken enough last night you could have prevented this situation yourselves, but you kept silent then. Now it’s too late. I am in charge here.” He said something similar to the farmers. Those willing to play by the rules could stay. All others could pack up and move back to town. Those who’d been digging in the wrong area would be required to restore it and destroy the DJar crops under supervision of the others.
Benjamar radiated power; he was the leader, the kollen. He deserved to be. The protests died down. He made one last announcement, stating that a trial would be held in the morning in which those who had done others wrong would be asked to appear in front of the new council. “But don’t forget that most of you people stood by and did nothing. That doesn’t make you right. If you want justice done I suggest you start with asking yourself what you did or did not do to prevent problems. What is it that gives you the right to ask for others to be punished?” He paused a moment to look at the loudmouth who’d said those things. “There are some people in this village who have earned that right. They will be asked to become part of the council of this kennin. Both farmers and Society will be represented but on my terms only.” He finished his speech by telling everybody to go home.
The crowd, subdued from being told off, dispersed quietly. Benjamar took another drink and raised his eyebrows at her. Had he been fair?
She nodded. More than.
“Wait for me inside.”
Trying to dodge the people going off in different directions without having to look at them, Jema reached the safety of Benjamar’s home. Silence. But for how long?