Six took umbrage at that. “Excuse me? Oozle? I was only trying to stay out of your way. Of course, if you feel you need back-up, I’ll be happy to come.”
Diva muttered something under her breath, but then let it drop.
“Do you think we should stay together?” asked Grace. “I mean, I have to check out on the donor program, and you want to try to discover what happened to all your oocytes, Diva. Maybe we should split up?”
Diva shook her head. “I think we should all stay together. We know very little about Xiantha, and although Arcan left us bracelets I don’t think we should risk anything.”
“Fine. Then let’s head off to the Donor Headquarters. They should be able to tell us what happened to your genetic material, and I might get an idea of just how they are planning to get new material in the future.”
“Ladies…” Six bowed exaggeratedly, and ushered them towards a waiting cart. “This way …”
Diva looked in horror at the wooden wheels lined with metal, and at the two vaniven attached to the front of the cart. “Surely we aren’t expected to travel in THAT?” she demanded. “It will shake our spines out of their sockets. I’d rather travel by foot!”
Six shook his head. “It looks as if it doesn’t work like that over here,” he informed her, indicating with a sweep of his hands the total lack of any other form of transport. “I guess everybody uses these carts to get around on Xiantha.”
“No wonder they haven’t invented anything in centuries! It probably takes them all day to get to work!”
“Yes. But, ‘when in Lumina, follow the light’, you know.”
“Oh, very well.” Diva made a great show of clambering up into the waiting cart. “But this is going to be a short visit, for sure.”
“As long as you include a cage over the Xianthes, I don’t care,” said Six. “But I absolutely refuse to go anywhere until we have seen them. They say they are breathtaking at this time of the year.”
“Yes, yes. All right. Noted.” Diva lapsed into silence, and seemed to withdraw inside herself.
“Look!” Grace was almost hanging out of her side of the ancient vehicle. “There are shops lining the street!”
“Shops? What are they?”
“Oh, Diva! Has nobody ever told you about them? On Xiantha people exchange clothes for food or money – in these little rooms called shops. My mother told me about them.”
Diva wrinkled her nose. “Why on Sacras would anybody want to exchange their clothes?” she asked. “They would be all crinkled, and … and … used.”
“Not used clothes, silly – new clothes.”
“But new clothes are made by tailors.” Diva was puzzled.
“And what, my lady, happens if you don’t happen to have your own tailors?” Six broke in, cross.
“You look like the Kwaidians, dressed in sackcloth.”
Six bristled up. “And what’s wrong—”
“I didn’t say that it was wrong, that is just the way things work.”
“You sound so smug!”
“Why? I’m perfectly happy to walk around in sackcloth. In fact I did when I was on Kwaide, you know.”
“I suppose you did,” Six admitted grudgingly. “But there is no need to make it sound as if it is wrong.”
“I didn’t! I was simply pointing out that you either have tailors, or you have nothing.”
“Well, not here, apparently.” Grace told them. “Here the tailors make what they want in the sizes they want and then wait for someone the right size to walk in.”
“Sounds like a stupid thing to do, if you ask me. What if nobody that size ever walks in?”
Grace frowned. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I suppose they alter them or something. Now I come to think about it, it does seem a bit … arbitrary, doesn’t it?”
“It’s most strange. If they have tailors you would have thought that they would have realized it would be much better to work privately for somebody whose size is known. Repeating things in different sizes sounds very wasteful.”
“But that may be why they have all those gorgeous clothes, all those swirling colours!” said Grace. “I expect they do it to attract ‘customers’. I am certainly going to get some of their things before I go back to Valhai. We will have to stop at a ‘shop’ at some stage.”
Six sighed. “Just don’t expect me to come in with you. I can’t think of anything worse than hunting through a pile of clothes to see if they have one in your size. I’d rather sit through a four-hour speech!”
“Spoilsport! My mother told me that it is quite fun.”
“If you’re a girl …”
“Men do it too, here on Xiantha.”
“Not Kwaidian men.” Six was firm.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. We just don’t. We wouldn’t.”
“Well you can stand outside and watch the vaniven go past when we go in,” said Grace, “but I am not going back without a few of their wonderfully coloured clothes.”
“OK. As long as I get a trip or two around the Xianthes, I don’t care.”
“Fine!”
THE DONOR HEADQUARTERS at Eletheia was quite a long way from the spaceport, and it became clear after about half-an-hour that traveling by vaniven cart was not going to be an option.
“There must be some other way of getting around this planet,” grumbled Six. “I would rather drag myself along on my elbows than go one step more in one of these carts!”
Diva rubbed her posterior gingerly and nodded. “Me too. I really miss Arcan – he would have taken us there in a moment!” She winced again as a particularly bad bump in the road transmitted a shock right through her body.
Six felt surprisingly at one with her. He was feeling the hardness of the seats too. “So how are we going to get across the highlands to Eletheia? Any ideas?”
There was a brief pause and then Grace and Diva, who were both sitting side by side and staring at Six, grinned at the same time and pointed.
“How about one of those?” they said, in unison.
Six swiveled around. There were two large horse-like animals passing at a great speed, taking the bumpy terrain in their stride, and giving their riders what was clearly a most comfortable journey. “What are they?” he asked the driver of the cart.
“Canths,” came back the slow answer. “Very expensive. You wouldn’t want to waste your money on one of them.”
“Waste? Best investment on the planet, if you ask me. Take us to wherever we need to go to rent, borrow or buy one of those.” He nearly added ‘steal’ to the list, but a sharp look from Grace had stopped him.
The driver deflated. He had been counting on a large fare to cover recent investments in alcoholic substances. “Very well.” His eyes flashed in a distinctly avaricious way. “But there is a surcharge for taking people to the canth farm.”
“I’ll surcharge you in a minute,” Diva informed him, drawing her Coriolan dagger, and assuming a fierce expression she didn’t really feel. But she was very good at reading people, and she knew when someone was trying to swindle them.
The driver rearranged his face hurriedly. “Just a misunderstanding,” he stuttered. “I made a mistake. In your case the surcharge will be waived.”
“Just so long as we are clear.” Diva smiled coldly, and withdrew the dagger from his belly button, which most unfortunately was clearly visible. “No offence meant.”
“No, no,” the man said hastily. “None taken, err … your ladleship. None taken.” He turned his attention back to the reins, and directed the cart at right angles to its previous direction. “We will be there in five hours!”
“Only five hours more in this cart!” said Six. “Her ladleship will be most disappointed.” Then he laughed like a drain until Diva punched him in the arm.
THEY WERE MORE relieved to finally arrive at the canth farm. Grace was in such agony that she could hardly speak, and even Diva’s usually stoicism had worn off along with the skin on her rump. They staggered down fro
m the cart and paid the driver his due.
“I will never ever travel in one of those things again,” exclaimed Diva.
“No. We can go the executive way now.” Six pointed at the sign, which read ‘Canths available’. “—Although I don’t see anything about renting.”
“We will just have to buy them, then. Thank goodness I thought to bring some money over.”
“Yes, Diva, that is all very well, but I don’t see why you should have to use your money to pay for us.” Grace frowned.
“You would rather use yours?”
“You know I haven’t got any. Not at the moment, anyway. I gave everything back to Amanita.”
“Then stop making silly comments.”
Grace pulled a face. “You won’t think it is so silly when you run out of funds.”
“Bah. We can take some of Arcan’s money then. He won’t have any need of it.”
Six perked up. “That’s true.” He thought about it and smiled. “We would be doing him a favour if we helped him to spend it.”
Diva laughed. “Let’s spend our way through my money first,” she suggested. “After all, it is only sitting there doing nothing in a bank in Mesteta.”
Six looked around him. There were various corrals of animals – stretching out as far as he could see. “This is more like!” he said. “If we are going to travel by quadruped, let’s make it the express service!”
A Xianthan came out to meet them, garbed in one of the most colourful garments they had ever seen.
“Do you think there is some rank thing about the number of colours on their clothes?” whispered Grace. “The cart driver only had one colour, but this man has hundreds!”
The man turned deliberately to her. “You are very observant, and nearly right,” he said. “Our choice of colours reflects our contentment with our lifestyle. I am most happy, so I wear raiment of many, many colours. I imagine that your driver was unhappy with his lot, and so had only one colour.” He touched fingers with Grace, and gave the standard system greeting. “Almagest, Cian and Valhai, the perfect heavenly triangle; may their orbits remain stable.”
She gave the standard reply. “May the flares on Almagest remain quiescent.”
“I am the canth keeper, my current name is the man who keeps canths, and I am plurichrome,” he said.
“My name is Grace.”
“Grace? What sort of a name is that? It says nothing about you; it has no colour.”
“I don’t understand.”
He looked disconcerted. “Were you given that name at birth?”
“Yes.”
“Then it has not developed with you. It does not incorporate your persona; it does not say who you are. That would not do here, on Xiantha!”
“How do you decide on a name?”
“You chose whichever one most describes you at that time, that most accurately represents your persona. And then you decide the colour you have attained, according to your completeness, your feelings.”
Grace was struggling to take this in. “So if somebody is very unfulfilled?”
“A monochrome. Then we have bichromes, trichromes – up to decachromes. After that we have multichrome, plurichrome and, finally, if we attain our true potential, panchrome.”
“Then you have only one more level to go?”
“True, but I am afraid that I shall never reach it now.”
“I hope that you will,” said Grace politely.
The man who kept canths looked pleased with her. “You are all very welcome to this canth farm,” he told them. “You can be sure your canth will find you here. Our animals match themselves to their riders, you know.”
“Do they? That sounds interesting.”
“But you must return them to me when you leave Xiantha, and exportation is forbidden. They are a very highly appreciated resource here, and the flares from Almagest have limited their numbers. They are a protected species and cannot be removed from here.”
“You will buy them back?” asked Six.
“Buy them back? Of course not. It is believed that these animals may be the descendents of the lost animas of Xiantha! When you bring them back they will have absorbed a part of you. They will have become a part of your lives. How could I buy them back?”
“Then what will happen to them?”
“Happen? Nothing. They will be released into the corrals for the rest of your lives. If you come back they will be waiting for you. If you don’t they will enjoy retirement and reproduce.”
“Surely you meant ‘for the rest of their lives’,” said Grace.
He smiled. “It is the same thing. Once they have become a part of your lives they will live exactly as long as you do.”
Grace’s eyes were like plates. “Whichever canth I chose will die on the same day I die? That can’t be right. What if nobody chooses them?”
“Then they will die on the day the son of the son of their son is born.” The man smiled widely. “A matched canth will generally have many more descendants. They reproduce once every three years, and are ready to reproduce first at three, so if you live longer than ten years or so you are doing them a great favour.” He looked at them, pleased. “That is why I wear many colours. I am helping you, and I am helping them. It is a great calling. But you do not choose them. No, it is the canths who choose their riders.”
“Why do you not let them go free on Xiantha – to choose whoever they want?” asked Grace.
“Alas, that is no longer possible.” The canth keeper moved his arms, making the multicolours in the clothing he was wearing swirl together. He checked their expressions, to see if they were still interested, and then went on. “Like all of Xiantha, they have been threatened by the flares of Almagest. This particular spot, so sheltered by the stronger magnetic field and the Xianthes, is protected from almost all solar flares, so it has become the only place where the species is safe. The canths only reproduce if the radiation levels are low. So animals which lived in other places have died out. This farm is the only sanctuary left for them.”
“How do they move so smoothly?” asked Six.
The Xianthan laughed. “It is said that they are able to travel so smoothly because they build up deposits of a mythical substance called excanthite, after the canths themselves, and that this slightly repulses the strong magnetic field here on Xiantha, especially here in the higher latitudes, near the Xianthes. Legend has it that this is what makes them the most comfortable ride in the binary system, allowing them to go faster, further and with less effort. There is no scientific evidence for this theory as yet, but the locals have a firm belief in it, convinced that the nearly vertical magnetic field lines here near the north pole explain why the canths have prospered.”
“We are going a long way. Wouldn’t it be better to take two each?” asked Six.
“Two? How could you have two? The link is only one to one. What you ask makes no sense”
Diva smiled at the man. “It often doesn’t,” she said sweetly, ignoring Six’s gasp. “Which of the canths do you think will be suitable for us then, Canth Keeper?”
The Xianthan led them up to the first corral, the one nearest the house. “I have the feeling,” he said, “that one of the ladies will be chosen by a high colour.” His eyes flickered to Six. “I am less sure about the gentleman, though.”
“Gee, thanks! I suppose I am to get one of the black ones!”
“If you were it would be a very great thing. To date no black canth has ever accepted anybody.” He opened the gate of the first corral and signaled to them to stand outside.
They waited. And nothing happened. None of the canths appeared to be taking any notice. The Xianthan let the minutes pass calmly and then closed the gate with no sign of hurry.
“The canths in this corral have shown no reaction. We must continue to the next one.”
The same procedure was used at the next corral, with the same result. Six and Diva began to become impatient, although Grace was quite ready to wait.
“Has there ever been a case of somebody being rejected by all of the canths?” demanded Six.
“Never. Even the Sellites who visit us from time to time find a match.”
Grace swallowed. “I am a Sellite,” she said in a small voice.
The canth keeper looked surprised. “You? A Sellite? No! That I cannot believe!”
“But I am not genetically engineered.”
His face cleared. “Aah! Then you must be the daughter of the woman I knew as ‘Wife of the head of the donor apprentice house’, a trichromatic at the time, if I remember correctly! I knew there would be some explanation. You were engendered here on Xiantha.”
“How do you know that?” Grace lifted her eyebrows.
“Your birth was the reason that they had to cut short their second visit. Your mother told me that she was expecting a baby, and that it would not be possible to apply genetic engineering. It was going to be too late by the time they returned to Valhai. I remember your mother well. Has she not told you about her visit here?”
Grace shook her head. “She spoke about some paintings, that is all.”
“Then it is not my place to speak either. But her canth is still here, so I know that she is alive.”
Grace nodded.
“But her mate – your father – is dead. His canth died – what – four or five years ago, now?”
Grace nodded again.
“I remember her particularly because her canth has been one of the happiest we have ever had. It has had many, many sons, and it has radiated its content for all these years. It was a lucky day when your mother came here.”
“She has never said anything.”
“She may not even know. These things are perhaps only obvious to people such as myself. I spend so much time with these animals that I sometimes think they speak to me.”
“Do you have a canth yourself?” asked Grace.
Ammonite Planets (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #1-3 Page 68