Teckla

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Teckla Page 18

by Steven Brust


  "So," he said. "You've decided to call in the Empire and force us to respond."

  "Actually," I said, "I just came to see Cawti. Where is she?"

  His expression didn't change, he just continued watching me. "You have a Plan," he said at last, pronouncing the capital letter, "and the rest of the world is filled with details that may or may not have something to do with it. You weren't out to get us, we're just a convenient tool."

  He didn't put it as a question, which is partly why I felt stung; he was accusing me of something like what I had been thinking was wrong with him. I said, "My primary interest is actually saving Cawti's life."

  "Not your own?" he shot back, his eyes squinting just a bit more.

  "It's too late for that," I said. That startled him a little; he actually seemed surprised. I felt inordinately pleased about this, "So, as I said, I'd like to see Cawti. Will she be around later?"

  He didn't answer. He just kept looking at me, his head back and his chin down, hands wrapped over his belly. I started to get mad. "Look," I told him, "you can play all the games you want to, just don't include me in them. I don't know what you're really after and I don't much care, all right? But, now or later, you're going to be carved up between the Empire and the Jhereg, and if I have any say in it my wife isn't going to be carved up with you. So you can drop the superior act; it doesn't impress me."

  I was ready for him to blow up, but he didn't. His eyes hadn't even narrowed any more. He just kept watching me, as if he were studying me. He said, "You don't know what we're after? After all you've been through, you really don't know what we're after?"

  I said, "I've heard the rhetoric."

  "Have you listened to it?"

  I snorted. "If what everybody around here parrots originates with you, then I've heard what you have to say. That isn't what I came here for."

  He leaned back a little more in his chair. "That's all you've heard, eh? The parroting of phrases?"

  "Yeah. But as I said, that isn't—"

  "Did you listen to the phrases being parroted?"

  "I told you—"

  "Have you never understood more than you could put into words? Many people only respond to the slogans—but they respond because the slogans are true and touch a spark in their hearts and their lives. And as for the ones who don't want to think for themselves, we teach them to anyway." Teach? I suddenly thought of what I'd overheard of them berating Cawti and wondered if that was what they called teaching. But Kelly continued, "Did you talk to Paresh? Or Natalia? Did you ever, once, listen to what they said?"

  "Look—"

  He shifted forward in his chair, just a bit. "But none of that matters. We aren't here to justify ourselves to you. We're Teckla and Easterners. In particular, we are that portion of that group that understands what it's doing."

  "Yeah? What are you doing?"

  "We are defending ourselves the only way we can, the only way there is—by uniting and using the power that we have due to our own role in society. With this, we can defend ourselves against the Empire, we can defend ourselves against the Jhereg, and we can defend ourselves against you."

  La dee da. I said, "Can you?"

  He said, "Yes."

  "What's to stop me from killing you, say, now?"

  He didn't bat an eyelash, which I call bravado, which a Dzur would consider brave and a Jhereg would consider stupid. He said, "Right. Go ahead, then."

  "I could, you know."

  "Then do it."

  I cursed. I didn't kill him, of course. That was something I knew Cawti would never forgive me for, and it wouldn't accomplish anything anyway. I needed Kelly there to push his organization into the path of Herth and the Phoenix Guards so they could be neatly cleaned up. But I needed Cawti out of the way first.

  I noticed that Kelly was still watching me. I said, "So, you exist only to defend yourselves, and the Easterners?"

  "And the Teckla, yes. And the only defense is—but I forget; you aren't interested. You're so busy chasing fortune up over a mountain of corpses that you have no time to listen to anyone else, have you then?"

  "Poetic, aren't you?" I said. "Have you ever read Torturi?"

  "Yes," said Kelly. "I prefer Wint. Torturi is clever, but shallow."

  "Um, yeah."

  "Similar to Lartol."

  "Yeah."

  "They came out of the same school of poetry, and the same epoch, historically. It was after the reconstruction at the end of the ninth Vallista reign, and the aristocracy was feeling bitter toward—"

  "All right, all right. You're quite well-read for a… whatever it is you are."

  "I am a revolutionist."

  "Yeah. Maybe you're a Vallista yourself. Creation and destruction, all wrapped up in one. Only you don't seem too effective at either."

  "No," he said. "If I were of one of the Dragaeran Houses, it would be the Teckla."

  I snorted. "You said it; I didn't."

  "Yes. And it is another thing you don't understand."

  "No doubt."

  "But what I said is true for you as well—"

  "Careful."

  "And all human beings. The Teckla are known as a House of cowards. Is Paresh a coward?"

  Licked my lips. "No."

  "No. He has something worth fighting for. They are known as stupid and lazy as well. Does this match your experience?"

  I started to say, "Yes," but then decided that, no, I couldn't say they were lazy. Stupid? Well, the Jhereg had been hoodwinking Teckla for years now, but that only meant we were clever. And, furthermore, there were so many of them it could be that I only ran across the stupid ones. It was hard to conceive of the total number of Teckla even within Adrilankha. Most of them were not customers of the Jhereg. "No," I said, "I guess not completely."

  "The House of the Teckla," he said, "embodies all the traits of all the Dragaeran Houses. As does the Jhereg, by the way, and for much the same reason: Those Houses will allow others into their ranks with no questions asked. The aristocracy—the Dzur, the Dragons, the Lyorn, occasionally others—see this as a weak- ness. The Lyorn allow no one in; some of the others require the passing of a test. They think this strengthens their House, because it reinforces those things they desire—usually strength, quickness and cunning. These are thought to be the greatest virtues by the dominant culture—the culture of the aristocracy. If so, the mixing of blood without these traits must be a weakness. Because they think it's a weakness, you see it as a weakness, too. It is not; it is a strength."

  "By requiring those traits, or whichever ones they do require, what are they leaving out that might occur on its own? All of these traits exist in some measure in the Teckla, the Jhereg and some Easterners—along with other things that we aren't even aware of, but that make us human. Think about what it means to be human. It's far more important than species or House." He stopped and studied me again.

  I said, "I see. Well, now I've learned something about biology, history, and Teckla politics all in one sitting. That, and what is required to be a revolutionist. Thank you, it's been very instructive. Except I'm not interested in biology, I don't believe your history and I already knew what it takes to be a revolutionist. Right now I want to know what it takes to find Cawti."

  He said, "Just what is it that you've found it takes to be a revolutionist?"

  I knew he was trying to change the subject, but I couldn't resist. I said, "The worship of ideas to such an extent that you become totally ruthless toward people—friends, enemies and neutrals alike."

  "The worship of ideas?" he said. "That's how you see it?"

  "Yeah."

  "And where do you suppose these ideas came from?"

  "I can't see that it matters a whole lot."

  "They come from people."

  "Mostly dead people, I imagine."

  He shook his head, slowly, but it seemed his eyes were twinkling, just a bit. "So," he said, "you have no ethics at all?"

  "Don't bait me."

  "Then
you do?"

  "Yeah."

  "But you'll abandon them for anyone who matters to you?"

  "I told you not to bait me. I won't tell you again."

  "But what are professional ethics other than ideas that are more important than people?"

  "Professional ethics guarantee that I always treat people as they ought to be treated."

  "They guarantee that you do what's right, even if it isn't convenient at the moment?"

  "Yes."

  "Yes."

  I said, "You're a smug bastard, aren't you?"

  "No, but I can tell that you're speaking nonsense. You talk about our ideas as if they fell from the sky. They didn't. They grew out of our needs, out of our thoughts and out of our fight. Ideas aren't just thought up one day, and then people come along and decide to adopt them. Ideas are as much a product of their times as a particular summoning spell is the result of a particular Athyra reign. Ideas always express something real, even when they're wrong. People have been dying for ideas—sometimes incorrect ideas—since before history. Would that happen if those ideas weren't based on, and a product of, their lives and the world around them?"

  "As for us, no, we're not smug. Our strength is that we see ourselves as part of history, as part of society, instead of just individuals who happen to have the same problem. This means we can at least look for the right answers, even if we aren't completely right all the time. It certainly puts us a step ahead of the individualists. It's all well and good to recognize that you have a problem and try to solve it, but for the Easterners and Teckla in this world, these aren't problems that an individual can solve."

  I guess when you get in the habit of making speeches it's hard to stop. When he'd run down, I said, "I'm an individual. I solved them. I got out of there and made something of myself."

  "How many bodies did you climb over to do it?"

  "Forty-three."

  "Well?"

  "What of it?"

  "What of it yourself?"

  I stared at him. He was squinting hard again. Some of the things he was saying were uncomfortably close to things I'd been thinking about myself; but I didn't go around building elaborate political positions around my insecurities, nor inciting rebellion as if I knew better than the rest of the world how everything ought to be.

  I said, "If I'm so worthless, why are you wasting your time talking to me?"

  "Because Cawti is valuable to us. She's still new, but she could turn into an excellent revolutionist. She's having trouble with you, and it's hurting her work. I want it settled."

  I controlled myself with an effort. "That fits," I said. "Okay, then, I'll even let you manipulate me into helping you manipulate Cawti so she can help you manipulate the entire population of South Adrilankha. That's how it works, isn't it? All right, I'll go along. Tell me where she is."

  "No, that isn't how it works. I'm not making any deals with you. You called in the Phoenix Guards to manipulate us into an adventure that would destroy us. Whatever reasons you had for this, it didn't work. We aren't getting involved in any adventures now. We held a mass meeting yesterday at which we urged everyone to stay calm and not to allow the Guards to provoke an incident. We're ready to defend ourselves against any attacks, but we won't allow ourselves to be endangered by—"

  "Oh, stop it. You're doomed anyway. Do you really think you can stand up to Herth? He has more hired killers working for him than Verra has hairs on her… head. If I hadn't forced him into action, he would have destroyed you as soon as he realized you weren't going to back down."

  Kelly asked, "Does he have more hired killers than there are Easterners and Teckla in Adrilankha?"

  "Hen. I don't know of any professionals who are Teckla, and I'm just about the only Easterner I know."

  "Professional killers? No. But professional revolutionists, yes. This Jhereg killed Franz, and we mobilized half of South Adrilankha. He killed Sheryl and we mobilized the other half. You've brought the Phoenix Guards in, probably thinking you were working on some big plan to solve all your problems, when in fact you did exactly what the Empire required of you—you gave them a pretext to move in. All right, here they are, and they can't do anything. The instant they overstep themselves, we'll take the whole city."

  "If you're that close, why don't you do it?"

  "We don't want it yet. The time isn't right for it. Oh, we could hold the city for a while, but the rest of the country isn't ready, and we can't stand against the rest of the country. But if we have to, we will, because it will serve as an example and we'll' grow because of it. The Empire can't crush us because the rest of the country would rise; they see us as representing them."

  "So they're just going to give you what you want?"

  He shook his head. "They can't fully investigate the murders because it would expose how closely the Jhereg is tied to the Empire, and the Jhereg itself would have to fight back and total chaos would ensue. They know what we can do, but they don't know what we're going to do, so all they can do is move their troops in, and hope that we make a mistake and lose the confidence of the masses so they can crush us—our movement and the citizens alike."

  I stared at him. "Do you really believe all that? You still haven't told me what's going to stop Herth from bringing six or seven assassins in here and just cleaning you out."

  "Weren't you, yourself, trying to play Herth off against the Empire?"

  "Yeah."

  "Well, you didn't have to. We almost took the city the last time the Jhereg killed one of our people, and the Jhereg know very well that if it happens again the Empire will have to move against them. How is that going to affect this Herth fellow?"

  "Hard to say. He's getting desperate."

  Kelly shook his head again and leaned back in his chair. I studied him. Who did he remind me of? Aliera, perhaps, with that cocksure attitude. Maybe Morrolan, with his feeling that, well, of course he could destroy anyone who got in his way, because that's just how things are. I don't know. There was no question that the man was brilliant, but—I didn't know then, and I still don't.

  I was trying to figure out my next riposte when Kelly's head shot up, and at the same time Loiosh spun around. Kelly said, "Hello, Cawti."

  I didn't turn. Loiosh started hissing and I heard Rocza hiss back. Loiosh flew off and I heard wings flapping and much hissing. Cawti said, "Hello, Vlad. Do those two remind you of anything?"

  I did turn around then, and there were circles under her eyes. She looked haggard and worn. I wanted to hold her and tell her it was all right, except I didn't dare, and it wasn't. Kelly stood up and left. I suppose he expected me to be grateful.

  When he was gone, I said, "Cawti, I want you out of this. This little group is going to be crushed and I want you somewhere safe."

  She said, "Yeah, I figured that out last night, after I left."

  Her voice was quiet as she spoke, and I heard no harshness or hate in it. I said, "Does it change anything?"

  "I'm not sure. You're asking me to choose between my beliefs and my love."

  I swallowed. "Yeah, I guess that's what I'm doing."

  "Are you sure you have to?"

  "I have to make sure you're safe."

  "What about you?"

  "That's another question. It doesn't apply to this."

  "The only reason you did all that was—"

  "To save your life, dammit!"

  "Stop it, Vlad. Please."

  "Sorry."

  "You did it because you're so full of how powerful Herth is that you can't see how weak he is compared to the armed might of the masses."

  I started to tell her to stop that noise about the "armed might of the masses," but I didn't. I thought about it for a minute. Well, yeah, if the masses were armed, and had leaders they trusted and all that, yeah, they could be powerful. If, if, if. I said, "What if you're wrong?"

  She actually stopped and thought about that for a moment, which surprised me. Then she said, "Remember outside the old place, when the Phoeni
x Guards showed up? Herth just stood there while that Dragon-lord cut his face. Herth hated her and wanted to kill her, but he just stood there and took it. Who was more powerful?"

  "Okay, the Dragonlord. Go on."

  "The Dragonlord just stood there, troops and all, while Kelly laid down our demands. Can you really think that Kelly is more powerful than a Dragon warrior?"

  "No."

  "Neither can I. The power was the armed might of the masses. You saw it. You think you, by yourself, are stronger than it is?'"

  "I don't know."

  "You admit you might be wrong?"

  I sighed. "Yeah."

  "Then why don't you stop trying to protect me? It's insulting, in addition to everything else."

  I said, "I can't, Cawti. Don't you see that? I just can't. You don't have the right to throw your life away. No one does."

  "Are you sure I'm throwing my life away?"

  I closed my eyes, and felt the start of tears that I hadn't been able to shed the night before. I stopped them. I said, "Let me think about it, all right?"

  "All right."

  "Are you coming back home?"

  "Let's wait until this is over, then we'll see where we are."

  "Over? When will it be over?"

  "When the Empress withdraws her troops."

  "Oh."

  Loiosh came back in and landed on my shoulder. I said, "Everything settled, chum?"

  "Pretty much, boss. I'm not going to be flying too well for a few days. She got in a good one on my right wing."

  "I see."

  "Nothing to worry about."

  "Yeah."

  I stood up and walked past Cawti without touching her. Kelly was in the other room, deep in conversation with Gregory and a few others. None of them looked up as I left. I stepped outside, carefully, but saw no one suspicious. I teleported back home, deciding that Kragar could handle things at the office better than I could right now.

  The stairs up to my flat seemed long and steep, and my legs felt leaden. Once inside, I collapsed on the couch again and stared off into space for a while. I thought about cleaning the place up, but it didn't really need it and I didn't have the energy.

  Loiosh asked if I'd like to see a show and I didn't.

 

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