Mother of Eden

by Chris Beckett

  They pulled the boat up to the narrow beach at the end of that tongue of water, and I helped them load it with the heavy bags of greenstone, the badjuice, the food, the cooked meat, the skins for warmth in Deep Darkness.

  Mother of Eden, I hated them, but hate made me stronger. It drove out fear and let me set my grief to one side, so that I could watch them calmly, like I was studying the pieces on a board. Snowleopard specially I watched. He even caught me once, looking at his face as I wondered why I’d ever thought of him as a man who hid nothing.

  “What are you staring at, Starlight?” He grinned at me and winked.

  Jeff’s shining ride, he’d actually thought I was admiring him! He’d thought I was finding him sexy. And actually, that was interesting. It was useful information, the fact that he could think that, so soon after I’d lost Greenstone. It showed that, as smart as he was, there were some things Snowleopard didn’t understand. My heart full of hate, I winked back at him and smiled a secret sexy smile.

  He loved that, and he was about to speak when a loud screeching came from the cave, and Blink emerged from it dragging a big cage with two baby bats inside it, perhaps half my height, their wings flapping uselessly against the wooden poles that trapped them there.

  “I’d just assumed these bloody things had died,” he said. “Either that or escaped. I mean, we haven’t had a chance to feed them for—what?—ten wakings or more, have we? But they’re still alive, look: thin but alive. Are we still going to take them with us? Or is that too much trouble?”

  Snowleopard shrugged. “May as well, but let’s chop off those wings, or that flapping will drive us nuts.”

  Blink slid out the pole that kept the cage shut, and he and Spear held the two creatures down while Snowleopard knelt on their wings and hacked them off with his metal knife. Then they shoved the bats back inside the cage and dumped it onto the middle of the boat next to the windtree, washing their hands in the water to make a small green cloud of blood.

  The boat was much smaller than the boat that had brought me to New Earth, and was only two-bodied: two sister-boats, rather than a mother-boat and two daughters. Two of us knelt in each of them, took up our paddles, and began to dig our way forward, out onto the open water.

  That cold stone was heavy heavy inside me, but hate kept me sharp and gave me strength. I watched the men. I noticed where they’d put down their spears and where they’d laid their woolly skins to sleep. I noticed the things on the boatfloor: the bags of stones, the coiled-up rope, the bats, with their stumps still oozing blood, huddled in their cage.

  The windcatcher puffed up, collapsed, puffed up again, and then began straining forward, pulling against the windtree. It would have taken us forward all by itself, but we kept paddling hard for most of a waking, until the men were sure we couldn’t be seen from poolside. Only then did they climb out of the sister-boats and settle down toward the back of the main boatfloor, Spear taking the steerpole, Snowleopard and Blink stretching out on their sleeping skins while the shining watertrees passed beneath us.

  “Do you want to eat some of your meat now, boys?” I asked them. “And maybe have a little badjuice?”

  All around us was bright water and black black sky.

  “Why not?” said Snowleopard, studying my face. “We’ve got something to celebrate.”

  “I’ll be honest with you,” I said. “I didn’t know what to think when you three tied me up outside the Headmanhouse. I was frightened you weren’t going to keep your promise. But I shouldn’t have doubted you, should I? You’ve got me out of New Earth safely, and now you’re taking me home. I just don’t know how to make it up to you.”

  The men glanced at one another and grinned. Blink rubbed his hands. Spear ran his tongue over his dead lips.

  “You’re doing all right so far,” Snowleopard said, smiling complacently and stretching out comfortably on the boatfloor. “You’re doing fine.”

  They chuckled with pleasure as I fetched meat for them, filled and refilled their mugs, found fruit and cakes for them to fill their bellies.

  “This isn’t so bad, is it?” crowed Blink.

  “I’m so so grateful to you three,” I told them again. “I would have been falling toward that fire by now if you hadn’t got me out of there. I wish I could think of a way of showing you how grateful I am.”

  I was playing a part, like one of those little wooden people at Veeklehouse, and the men loved it. Could they really not see the ice inside me, I wondered? Couldn’t they see my grief? Couldn’t they even recognize my hate? But these were the wrong questions. It just didn’t matter to them what was looking out from my eyes. As long as I played out this new role for them as well as I’d once played the role of Ringwearer, they didn’t care who pulled the strings or spoke the voices.

  “And it’s good to be with proper Mainground men, too,” I said, giving Snowleopard another lingering look.

  “Tom’s dick and Harry’s, girl,” purred Snowleopard. “You really are a guard’s daughter, aren’t you? Come and give old Snow a kiss.”

  My body was nothing more than a ringman’s metal mask, I told myself as I went over to him. It wasn’t me. It was just the thing I hid behind. And I made myself open my mouth to him when I kissed him, made myself soft and yielding for a moment in his arms before I wriggled out of his grasp with a teasing laugh.

  “Hey!” grumbled Snowleopard, “I wanted more than that.”

  “Yeah,” said Blink. “And if you really want to make it up to us, that’s the way.”

  “There will be more,” I said. “I promise you that. I could use some comfort myself as well. But give me a waking, eh? Greenstone might not have been so great, but . . .”

  Snowleopard rolled over onto his side, watching me with a grin. “We can wait, boys, can’t we? We can wait.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “You’re so good to me. Just give me a waking, and later, when we all need warming up out on Deep Darkness, I’ll really say thank you to all three of you.”

  They were pleased pleased with that.

  “Just like her mum,” Blink said quietly to Spear, and he grinned his toothless baby grin.

  But Spear’s eyes narrowed slightly as he tore at a piece of meat with the side of his mouth. “How come you said you wanted to go with Quietstream, though, Starlight, if you’re really so happy to be with us?”

  I had to think quickly there. “I don’t know,” I said. “To be honest, I really don’t know. I guess I felt bad about Greenstone. We girls are funny like that. But he’s gone, hasn’t he? And now he has gone, I realize he wasn’t so great, anyway, and I’m just glad to be with you three men and heading back across the Pool.”

  “That’s old Blackglass’s daughter.” Blink chuckled. “He didn’t give a bat’s dick for anyone or anything.”

  “You finish that bag of badjuice, boys,” I said, remembering the stories Quietstream had told me about the competitions among the ringmen, “and I’ll bring you another one.” I filled up their mugs. “That’s a lot of greenstone you brought in those bags.”

  Snowleopard laughed. “Strongheart is going to be pleased pleased with us when we give him that. He’s always wanted to know where metal came from, and now he’ll know what to look for.”

  I let the wooden Starlight look sweetly worried. “But you are going to take me home first, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, yeah, of course,” said Snowleopard. “We look after you first and foremost, Starlight, you should know that by now. Always have done, since the waking we first met you.”

  He looked straight at me, his blue blue eyes looking into mine without a trace of shame. I’d been wondering how I could ever have thought of him as a man who hid nothing, but now I could see the answer. There was no conflict in those eyes. What he wanted, he took; what he could get away with, he did; and what was to his advantage to say, he said, easily and comfortably, whether it was true or not, without the slightest doubt or worry, and without the slightest shame. He had no feelings
to hide.

  Slap, slap, slap went the windcatcher against its tree.

  I must not show my rage, I told myself, quickly moving my face so it would just look scolding.

  “You are bad bad men,” I said out loud, raising my wooden fist in a playful, teasing way. “I bet you planned to get that metal stone all along.”

  I was pretending to pretend to be angry, so as to hide my real rage. But none of them really cared what I felt inside. As long as I made the pretty wooden Starlight pretend to laugh and be impressed, and as long as I pretended well enough, that was fine with them.

  “I’ll tell you one thing I can do for you,” I said suddenly, like I really didn’t think they’d have thought of it before. “I’ll give you this ring. I bet Strongheart will be pleased to have that.”

  Snowleopard glanced at his friends, one eyebrow slightly raised. “That’s nice of you,” he said smoothly. “Strongheart will be glad glad.”

  “It’s the least I can do for you, if you’re going to take me home and everything.”

  Snowleopard reached up and stroked my cheek as I poured him some more badjuice.

  “So you’ll have the ring back for Mainground after all these hundredwakes,” I said in an impressed voice. “The ring, and greenstone, and bats. All the Johnfolk’s secrets.”

  Again Snowleopard glanced at his friends. The ring, greenstone, bats, and the Ringwearer, I could almost hear him telling them. “That’s right,” he said. “All the Johnfolk’s secrets.”

  Suddenly one of the cutbats gave a piercing screech. There were greatbats circling overhead beneath the great spiral of stars, and it was calling out to them. Snowleopard silenced it by kicking the cage.

  “Shut up, you horrible creature, before I saw off your head.”

  I made my wooden body pull a cute face. “Well, I think you deserve a bit more badjuice, you smart men, after all your hard hard work.” I opened another bag for them, like I was a mum giving her kids a treat. “You boys drink what you want.” Then I went over to Spear where he sat in the back with the steerpole and made myself squeeze his knee. “Go and have a rest with your mates,” I told him. “You’ve worked hard, too. I’ll do the steering for you.”

  “What does a girl know about steering boats?” he grumbled.

  I stroked his knee gently. “I’m from a little grounds out in Worldpool, remember? We’re on the water before we can walk.”

  So then I sat by myself with that cold stone inside me, holding the steerpole while the men drank, and shouted, and laughed, and pretended to quarrel, and laughed again.

  “Come on, then, Starlight,” Snowleopard called out after a while in a slurred voice. “Come on over here and let’s have a bit of that fun you promised us.”

  “Give me one waking,” I said. “Just one waking. I promise you I’ll make it worth waiting for.”

  The men looked at one another and grinned, their sweat shining in the waterlight.

  “Is that all the badjuice you boys can handle?” I asked.

  “Who said we’d finished drinking?”

  “I wonder which of you can drink the most?”

  Blink barked out his strange, childish laugh. “That’s easy,” he said. “I can take way more than either of these two.”

  “No way, one-eye,” jeered Snowleopard. “I’d like to see you try.”

  I watched from the back, coldly coldly, but making sure my face looked as if I was enjoying their banter. The more they drank, the slower they’d be, I reckoned, and the faster I’d be by comparison. How I’d use that advantage I still hadn’t figured out.

  “Go on, then, Spear!” shouted Snowleopard. “You show me, then. A whole bag in one go.”

  “What’ll you bet me? First go with the girl?”

  “For drinking one bag? No chance.”

  I checked where everything lay on the boatfloor: the roll of rope, the bags of meat and stones, the windtree and the strings that held it up.

  “Go on, then, down in one go, down in one go!”

  “Not bad, scarface, not bad. But now watch me and learn.”

  The bats sat silently in their cage. I’d slipped them some fruit and a mug of water. Now I kept the boat steady with the wind right behind it and the windcatcher bulging out ahead.

  “Two bags. One after the other.”

  “Go on, then, blue eyes. Do it, but whatever you do, I can do the same and more, I bloody promise you that.”

  They’d almost forgotten I was there. They drank, they shouted. And finally they sank into snoring sleep, surrounded by empty juicebags, each one holding his spear, like sleeping children clinging to their favorite toys.

  I waited. The stars shone down. The waves of Worldpool splashed against the boat. The windcatcher slapped and shuddered in the wind.

  I waited.

  A single bat cried out, high up above us. The baby bats creaked and squealed. Spear mumbled in his sleep. Shining water passed beneath the boat, the windcatcher changing from pink to green and back again to pink in its ever-changing light.

  I drew up the steerpole and laid it carefully on the boatfloor. I crept forward, picking up one of the bags of stones and lifting it right over the sleeping men to the front edge of the boat.

  I went back for a second bag. As I was lugging it forward, Snowleopard muttered and snorted in his sleep, and I stopped and waited, glancing at the windtree to make sure that the wind was still behind us.

  I picked up the rope and tied it tightly round the neck of the first bag of stones.

  I paused. I checked the sleeping men. I glanced at the windtree. I looped the rope round the second bag and tied that tightly, too, testing both knots to be sure they wouldn’t slip.

  The boat was veering a little to the left, I noticed, a little rockway. I didn’t want the boat to turn sideways to the wind, because then it would start to rock and the windcatcher would slap noisily against its tree, so I crept back to the steerpole. When the boat was straight again, I sat there for some time, listening to the rhythm of the men’s snoring and making sure that it was steady and even before I moved again.

  Spear was nearest to the bags of stone, so I went to him first, looping the rope round one of his ankles, slowly slowly, gently gently, so that if he felt anything at all, it would be as gentle as a mother’s caress. He muttered in his sleep, and his tongue came out and felt along the numb left side of his mouth.

  Suddenly I saw Blink coldly watching me. Before I could stop myself I gasped in fear, and the sound made both Snowleopard and Spear turn and grumble in their sleep. It was only then I realized that the eye that was watching me was just an empty hole.

  I stayed where I was, squatting at Spear’s feet, while I waited for the snoring of all three men to settle back down again into a steady rhythm. And then, trying to avoid looking at that accusing eye, I crept across to Blink, gently stroking his shin to accustom him to my touch, and then looping the rope round his ankle, too.

  Again I paused, listening to their breathing and watching the windcatcher. The boat was beginning to turn again, so I needed to get a move on. I went to Snowleopard: strong Snowleopard with the steady gaze, who I’d persuaded myself was my friend, and who sometimes in dreams I’d imagined naked in my arms. Of the three of them, he was the one I hated most. I looped the rope round his foot.

  Then, once again, I checked the boatfloor. What could the men grab hold of? What could they cling to with their fingers or toes? How would I force them to let go? I picked up a paddle and stood patting it against my hand for a minute, while the men slept peacefully on. Inside their heads, I supposed, dreams must be unfolding as they did in the minds of everyone, unfolding and unfolding and unfolding, like life would go on forever.

  I stuck the paddle out sideways in the water. The boat swung right round, the windcatcher flapping back against its tree. I kicked the first bag over the end.

  Splash!

  It plummeted downward into the shining water, snatching the second bag in straight after it.


  Splash!

  I stepped back just in time before the rope snapped tight across the boatfloor.

  Splash! Spear was dragged into the water. I could see his shadowy shape flailing beneath the surface as he woke and found he couldn’t breathe.

  Blink jerked awake. He yelled and lunged out with his hands as he went sliding over the edge. Splash!

  Snowleopard tried to stop himself with his hands and his free foot. The whole boat tipped dangerously as he fought against the weight of the stones and the other men. His fingers found a gap in the boatfloor. He clung to it with his left hand, feeling around with his right for another grip.

  I smashed the paddle down on his fingers with all my strength, and he gave a roar of rage and pain as he lost his hold and slid over the side.

  Splash!

  But the boat stayed tipped, its end dipping down so far into the water that I was afraid the whole thing might topple over. Snowleopard must still be clinging on.

  I grabbed Blink’s spear and made my way carefully down the steep slope of the floor until I was looking straight down at Snowleopard’s white fingers under the water, and the dark outline of his face. Still alive below him, Blink and Spear were jerking him this way and that, but Snowleopard held on.

  “Stab the spear into his face!” I muttered to myself.

  But before I could move, he lunged upward. And there he was! Back out with me in the world of air, where he was never supposed to return, sucking in breath with a horrible choking sound.

  He snatched out at my leg—he almost had me—but I pulled away just in time. And then he lost his grip. Without anything to hold him back, the heavy bags of greenstone yanked him quickly down to the bottom of the Pool.

  “This is just a story,” I whispered.

  I’d been thrown backward across the floor as the boat righted itself, banging my head on the windtree and knocking over the cage of bats.

  “It’s just a dream. I’m not really here at all.”

  But the world refused to change. I was still alone. The bats were still screeching in their toppled cage. I could even still see the men I’d done for down at the bottom, a single blurred lump of darkness with shining watertrees waving from side to side around it. However hard I tried, now remained now, here remained here, Eden remained Eden. Like a cage.