Strange Attractors (1985)

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Strange Attractors (1985) Page 29

by Damien Broderick


  way. But I liked his question. My mother, one of the old man’s

  eleven wives (and I was the second of her two only sons), had

  assumed I would follow in his footsteps and be a dirtfooted breeder

  on faraway farout longlost Swannest helping to boost the population in the traditional, honourable manner, though the clone labs have been pouring them out for fifty years now and the Fempref

  Immigration Scheme past history for almost as long. He was right:

  she had not been impressed with my jagging, but years have passed

  and now when I happen home she likes to hear my stories. W hat

  she cannot swallow is my longtime exclusive attachment to Kolissa.

  ‘Yes,’ he nodded, ‘yes’, as his ship breathed and sang softly like an

  insect in whose cranium we lay, as the consoles twinkled like the

  sectors of a nightbound city and we gods looking down, as the

  coffee-stained couch wrapped me warm and we climbed the grav-

  slope away from Greenball to the point where we could cut. With

  interest, with politeness, with thoughtful readiness to pull a new

  point of view over his head like a woolly jum per he inquired about

  Kolissa, then about our travels, our purposes, our means of support. Over the jagger with the catcrap on his faceplate he laughed like a horse. ‘But,’ he said, suddenly changing direction, ‘you come

  in here, you climb out of your life support and send it into the bay

  for a free refill of all the things it needs, fuel, concentrates, oxygen

  . . . Doesn’t that embarrass you? Isn’t it begging?’ He was a strange

  jack. I told him what he already knew: that sleezies are programmed to seek the bays at every opportunity, so I didn’t have to send it, though I accepted responsibility for it; that once he was

  making the trip and had his can in motion the cost of flight modification to pick me up, of carrying me, of feeding my sleezy was less than one hundredth of a percent of the tripcost; and that usually a

  pilot would not pick up a jagger unless he expected the return in

  company, conversation, or the pure altruistic inner glow (I did

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  smear that a bit) to repay him well. Amused, he agreed.

  He had not mentioned the revolution. He’d been on Greenball

  three days to pick up some kind of tagged juice for some weird

  experiments so I supposed he didn’t know, and I was reluctant to

  tell him, but did in the end. And this jack, Claudian Fainey-Juveh

  (he had introduced himself), did a strange thing with his mouth,

  pursed his lips while making the upper one tall, and said ‘I wonder

  if it will alter things much.’ And then, Are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah, oh yeah. The pilot who lifted me into ring said. Spacevine

  is always accurate, no one says more than they actually know, kind

  of tradition.’

  ‘Ah yes. I’m not actually on Otzapoc — I’ll take you there,

  though — your life support will take you down, won’t it? — I’ve

  been on Trivash for a couple of years. The last time I was on

  Otzapoc itself was more than a year ago. I hardly heard anything of

  Jahenry — I rather got the impression that he was out of favour

  with most people.’

  ‘Would you have heard, though?’ I said, perhaps because he’d

  questioned the morality of jagging.

  ‘W hat do you mean?’ Still the polite interested inquirer.

  ‘Well, people often don’t hear about things they’re not interested

  in.’

  He chuckled. ‘Quite so. I’m not very interested in politics. As a

  m atter of fact I see the whole business as predetermined, as

  organic, like ocean currents for example. The demagogues that

  arise are mere opportunists taking advantage of the currents,

  riding them. When they can no longer hang on, or when they try to

  alter their courses, they are swept aside.’

  Right, right, right. And ocean currents bring storms and ocean

  currents bring sunshine and we the bathers the beachcombers the

  surfers — we take what comes. We were bound, this Fainey-Juveh

  and me, in beautiful understanding and agreement.

  Trivash, then. I had heard the name. Yes, he explained, one of

  the twenty-seven moons of Bubutap, great raging storming

  whirling gas giant of the Bennet-Kenny system. Bubutap of giant

  lightnings like that old seagod’s fork, Bubutap of the vortex-edged

  speeding methane-ammonia hurricane belts, Bubutap of the

  orange angry skewed thunderous eyes. (I knew there was some

  weird passion at the core of his life, even from when he looked at

  that list off-camera before he picked me up — I could see the list

  now, pale brown fax skin stabbed over a knob, curled and awkward

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  to read. Now, stepping from great god globe Bubutap he submerges in his private ocean current.) Ages ago pioneers from Otzapoc’s neighbour Heljring terra-formed Trivash and founded an empire that lasted for ten thousand

  years. Most of the other planets and satellites in the system were left

  natural, but the empire colonised them all — with gene-tailored

  fishmen, birdmen, high-G dwarfs, methane breathers, leaf-

  crowned UV sugar-builders and other strange types. In its long

  long lightning-and-rainbow history of empire the sovereignty of

  Trivash was scarcely threatened, for in its most careless, its most

  benign, its most decadent moments Trivash kept savage control of

  the making and distribution of specific environment life support

  systems without which these diverse humankinds could not live

  away from their appointed places. Just like me.

  Yet the empire breathed like the sea, its tides alternately enfolding the far corners of the system and retreating, leaving them silted and naked to self-generated flocks of predators. And quinquiremes

  of space plied between stellar Ninevehs carrying ivory apes peacocks, steel coal iridium, hard vacuum and a couple of fluorescing atoms in snailshell glass bottles (souvenirs from the Trifid Nebula),

  soldiers, slaves, silk-painters, dog-catchers, data-merchants,

  doom-sayers, governors and grocers, lawyers and lumberjacks,

  prostitutes and priests. All that the crazy hearts of women and men

  have ever desired travelled in those ships, all that their eaglesoaring minds have dreamed, brought from the edges of known space and beyond back to the savage-gentle heart of empire. The

  ships docked in vast glittering cities of space whose steel was ripped

  from the entrails of a thousand moons, whose metabolism rested

  upon the thunder of giant forges, the wind-ocean roar of induction

  pumps, the incandescent love of atom for atom eternally consummated in radiant energetic union.

  All this Fainey-Juveh told me, his eyeglasses reflecting twin

  groups of instrument lights. And I was caught up in his living

  breathing rolling bopping crazy empire — caught like a lucent

  little sea insect in the warm lucent limitless ocean — there was no

  disjunction between his gorgeous vast empire and me — in my

  vision I was part of it. And surely it was a glorious place for a space

  jagger, surely.

  We cut sometime then. One bunch of razor-bright constellations

  and soft glowing nebulae instantly gone, a new bunch before us as

  if they had been gazing through our reflectionless glass shields for

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  hours. The space between the stars, the original mother of black

  night, of which the darkest planetary darkness is a clowning

  imitator, remained itself, arrogant, perhaps amused.

  The empire lived on. Plated warships threw the fire of suns down

  upon rebellious worlds, or stung the insect craft of raiders into

  clouds of expanding glowing gas. They even swam in shoals to

  other systems and for a brief half millennium brought Fomalhaut

  and Angk with all their worlds under the barbarous-benign heel of

  the emperor.

  Trivash, the imperial world, like old legendary Earth, was a

  garden. After the first couple of thousand years of empire the entire

  ball became the emperor’s demesne. The seas were his fishponds,

  the sierras his rock gardens, the forests his hunting parks. Each city

  was a palace: each palace a city. Furnished and equipped for every

  business known to man, for every lustful lust and joyous joy, the

  halls stables laboratories workshops, and their staffs, eternally

  awaited the moment when the emperor should chance their way.

  Teniki X X V II of the fourth millennium was a flyer. He flew in

  balloons, in sailplanes, in single jets; he flew on G-discs and under

  hangwings; he flew rockets and stratoscoops and slept all his long

  life suspended between heaven and earth (or anyway between

  chrysoberyl floor and azurite ceiling studded with diamond stars)

  in a founting whispering cushion of warm air. Maybe he took his

  favourite folded hangwing into this zephyrous bed with him instead of noble lady empress wife or plum-smooth little concubine, maybe. But wherever he went he found the sky vehicle of his whim

  ready. Until one day, suddenly tiring of the air, he asked for a freedive suit. They were in the smallest, remotest of his cities at the southern tip of his coldest land. The dive suit for those waters was

  unusual, requiring a special heating system, and insulation, and

  the emperor, only a week before, had allowed his arms and fingers

  to be modified so that now he had wings like a bat. Even so the suit

  was straightway brought — and found to fit perfectly. Smiles of

  approval appeared on the faces of the emperor’s companions, but

  Teniki X X V II noticed nothing.

  The Trivashti cycle of seasons was the classic Four. W inter

  sparkled and reddened the cheeks. Spring breathed sweetly over

  tiny swords of grass and unfolding leafblades. Summer cast a net of

  heat, coarse enough for a lordly dozing and dreaming in the afternoons, then the sensuous plunge into lake or river. Autumn was ripe with a treasury of fruits. Tiuark IV lost her imperial temper

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  one time — she had forgotten her gloves and her fingers got cold —

  !I will have summer!’ she said. H er Lord and Most High Slipper-

  man (her biggest bigjack errandboy, that was) who was riding on

  the next hippogryph heard her and within a couple of hours the

  snows were melting and the summerfoxes in their dens beneath her

  forests waking up. Believe it! — the snows melted — hibernating

  animals awoke — the meany great iron cold trees started pumping

  up their buds till they burst and the leaves unfurled! The sellers of

  gloves and mufflers — oh, those boys cursed the great legend that

  was their emperor, and the sellers of ice-cream blessed her!

  She made those mostissimo winged horses herself — that was her

  passion: breeding, engineering, gene-chopping and constructing

  weird animals. All the creatures of all the myths of all the worlds of

  all history lived in the flesh in her home-made menageries. Strange

  and cruel and like a woman wearing a man’s beard was this arrogant Tiuark, lord of a thousand worlds. All of the twelve (some say fourteen) women who at various times ruled with the full powers of

  emperor, and called themselves emperor, wore the emperor’s

  beard. Some even had their chins cell-tailored to grow genuine

  whiskers, and Maiken the Fat grew her own completely naturally

  while still a young woman. Tiuark IV had dozens of lawfully

  married queens and hundreds of concubines by whom she

  produced a host of children — breeding them to the favoured

  among her male relatives. There were ritual and economic reasons

  for this.

  In a great vision as I swam through space in the darkness of the

  control cabin beside this long faced Fainey-Juveh with Bennet-

  Kenny now a star beacon before us but still not quite a sun, as I

  half-heard his strong monotonous voice now rising as he was

  reminded of yet another jewel of interest in the history of the

  Trivashti empire — in a great vision I saw the ancient barbaric

  city-large ships ghost past, I rode a snorting hippogryph beside

  Tiuark as she changed the season of a world with a wave of her

  hand, I sat downtable from foppish Sesemene III when annoyed

  with the supreme commander of his Instrumentality of Peace he

  said, ‘Take me Fomalhaut,’ as you might say, ‘Pass me a nut,’ and the

  commander went white to the gills. Years later that commander, his

  body ruined beyond the wits of a now decadent imperial science to

  repair in the last awful battle over Fomalhaut IV, yet by rigid will

  still walking erect — that commander received Sesemene on the

  bridge of the limping imperial flagship and presented him with an

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  iron mace removed for the first time in a thousand years from the

  great Assembly Hall of Zianziohc saying, ‘Lord, Fomalhaut.’

  ‘Lord, Fomalhaut,’ he said, and died. Did he really say just that?

  Answer ‘Take me Fomalhaut’ with ‘Lord, Famalhaut’, hand over the

  mace and die? Yes, oh yes. I knew that then, riding there in Fainey-

  Juveh’s little modern-day can just cut from Greenball and the tired

  romanceless faces on the early mono to graceless Pororak — I knew

  that then, listening to Fainey-Juveh’s magic-monotonous voice.

  ‘Lord, Fomalhaut.’

  And I had seen — jostled and deafened in the monstrous crowd,

  stifled by the stewy scent of the jostling roaring crowd — I had seen

  eagle-featured Sesemene, foppish no longer, but eagle-featured

  with terrible eyes and the skin of his face dyed blue and all his robes

  glaring with a weight of gems riding a winged clawed elephant

  (long had Tiuark’s art survived her) down the Avenue of Palaces in

  marble carved Orlasc as the first expedition of conquest to Fomalhaut began — and upon opposing marble pillars that lined the way chained the naked halves of all the Fomalhauti that had been peacefully upon Trivash, visiting, on business, married to Trivashti —

  each one bisected so that half a trunk carried a leg, an arm and half

  a head and the entrails hung to the ground and streaks of blood

  blackened the shining marble pillars — oh, that is death, that is

  death: blood-slimed festoons of guts hanging to the ground with

  dogs ripping what they can reach and the pitiful little penis of an

  axed-in-half m an and the tears you might shed over the curling

  brown sex hair below the ripped belly of half a not-yet-married girl.

  Sesemene, no fop, did not avoid the meaning of Take me Fomalhaut:

  death, girl flesh slas
hed and blood released to blacken down pillars.

  Arrogantly he rode between the halves of these innocents, rode to

  Fomalhaut on winged elephant and starship, fought at Fomalhaut,

  but did not stay all the years of the war. Returned there at last to

  hear — ‘Lord, Fomalhaut.’

  From me strange learned Fainey-Juveh would maintain a formal

  distance: eagle-clawed entrail-ripping Sesemene he embraced. For

  him the blue-faced emperor was alive, riding his eternal winged

  elephant down that charnel-hung avenue to Fomalhaut for ever

  and ever amen. Tiuark lived, all the five Tiuarks, all the forty-four

  Tenikis, the six Selenippes, the twenty-one Ororons, the three

  Pvattis, the seven Pvatchis, Chuchah the Devil, and Chuchah the

  Builder, Henorahk the Priest, Fiodek the Three-eyed, Charmesh of

  the Five Thousand Children (is it possible? Oh yes, oh yes). T hat is

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  the meaning of empire — a man, gorgeous and grandiose as all

  men, free of all checks, possessor of all power, building into the

  world all his dreams, those known and those secret even for himself,

  the beautiful and the sickening, building in real stone, real iron,

  real flesh. The myriad of his subject willingly subject themselves

  because it is better to see their dreams made flesh by somebody else

  than never.

  Gentle intelligent Fainey-Juveh said ‘Autocracy is the only form

  of Government worthy of man. W ith anything else one’s life drains

  away in unrelieved mediocrity and no one sees a dream worth the

  name made real.’

  Still high on the splendid visions of empire this strange jack had

  given me, I said, ‘Do you support Jahenry?’

  He thought a moment with his bald dome shining, his long lips a

  little thrust and his eyeglass windows aimed away to the stars. Then

  said, 1 suppose I am inconsistent at times.’

  Because now we knew each other so well that I understood he

  didn’t like Jahenry, Berlit was much more his type. And also we

  both understood, with nothing more being said, that inconsistency

  is truly the salt of hum anity’s thoughts and deeds and dealings.

 

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