Rod barely heard or knew where he was. He could only see Khral’s look as she had turned to him, and hear her voice call his name.
Geode came running out of their new home, its shiny roof tiles gleaming in the sun. “Rod—you’ll never guess! Patella is coming back!”
It took a few seconds for Rod to realize what he had said. “Patella’s coming back? To us? You’re sure?”
Geode was hopping up and down on all six limbs, his starstone dancing crazily around his eyestalks. “Yes he is! He sent a neutrinogram. It took months and months, but they gradually got his mind working in his new body, and he’s coming back.” Rod had never seen him so excited. But then, Patella was like a twin to Geode, from the same Valan factory. They had always been especially close.
During worship that evening, as the new llamas groaned in the dusk and the gentle rains hid the moon, the Spirit Callers gave special prayers of thanks for their brother’s imminent return. Rod tried to feel glad, but any joy he could feel was overwhelmed by the pain within. All he could see was Khral’s face before him, and feel her in his arms again. He longed for her, yet hated himself. He was living a lie; he could no longer call the Spirit.
HUMAN WORLD—TELL US SOMETHING, WE PRAY YOU. The micromen would not leave him alone. IF ONE SOUL MARRIES ANOTHER, BUT THE MATE DIES BEFORE MERGING; THEN HE TAKES A SECOND MATE, WHO ALSO DIES; THEN HE MARRIES A THIRD; TO WHOM IS HE MARRIED WHEN ALL HAVE ASCENDED TO HEAVEN?
Rod closed his eyes. Make me a llama, he told them, like you tried to before. Then I’ll no longer need to think or feel.
Early in the morning, Rod went to the Reverend Mother. The first rays of light from the window cast bright squares across the wall, and Rod blinked as they caught his eye. Mother Artemis was nursing T’kela. Her strands of hair stretched up toward him. “Rod, whatever is wrong, let me help you.”
“I must leave the order. I’ve broken my vows, and I can’t stay.” He paused, then added, “I’m sorry to leave you short-handed, but now at least Patella will be back…” He stopped, full of shame and confusion.
“I’m so sorry. What a terrible time you must have gone through.” She set down T’kela, who crept off to grasp at a sunbeam. “Will you join Khral?”
He shuddered to realize she had known all along. For some minutes he could not speak. “I can’t,” he said at last. “I care for her, but I would hate her for what I’ve lost.”
“Then where does the Spirit lead?”
“The Spirit doesn’t lead me anymore. For now, I’ll join Diorite’s crew.” Beyond that, his future was blank. He had never before faced a future alone, without someone leading him on.
“Well, you can apply to the Most Reverend Father for release from your vows. It will take some months to approve and process—”
“No,” said Rod sharply. “I can’t stay. It would set a bad example for the children.”
Mother Artemis paused. “The children will miss you.”
“I will miss them.” He choked on his words. “I can’t imagine life without them.”
“Is that all you’ll miss, Rod? The children?”
“No, of course, I’ll miss you, and Brother Geode. And—” He could not say it. “I still don’t understand. I still feel the Spirit led me to Khral, as it did to the tumbleround. Yet it can’t be.”
“The Spirit tests us with choice. Sometimes one must give up a great love for a higher one.”
“I did that, once,” said Rod. “I gave up the Guard—my pledge of honor to Valedon. But now, I have to give up the Spirit.”
“The highest love is truth.”
To that he had nothing to say. Truth brought peace, if nothing else.
Mother Artemis was silent for a while. She looked out the window, her hair twining in the sunlight as if to soak up wisdom. “In truth, I have listened for many decades, yet I never understood why the Spirit would be jealous of human love. Would you be jealous of your micromen?”
Rod blinked in surprise. “What are you saying? Do you question the vow?”
“The vow is right for some. It was right for you, for a time. I pray the Spirit Fathers would keep their other vows, such as to support this colony.”
This heresy left him speechless.
“I’ve been thinking, Rod. It’s time our colony became more ecumenical. So many kinds of people want to help out, and we’ll need their help, even with Patella back. I’d like us to accept those two Spirit Brethren who applied to join.”
“The Spirit Brethren? But—but they’re not…respectable.”
“Respectability counts for little out here.” The sentient’s features made an odd slant, as if she were angry. “In truth, the Spirit Brethren are respectable enough. They split off from us several decades back, when two Fathers quarreled over doctrine. They hold the Sharer view that the Spirit calls each of us to conceive and raise our own child.”
Imprisoned deep within an Elysian hospital, Verid paced the spotless floor, restless as a dog. There was company enough, the micromen within, and virtual visitors without; but for weeks now, no living human had so much as shared her breath. When would the Fold Council relent? The quarantine went beyond all reason, but, having stripped her of power, her opponents could enjoy their revenge.
IF WE EVER DO RETURN TO MYTHICAL PROKARYON AND DISCOVER NEW WORLDS, THEY WILL HAVE TO MEET OUR STANDARD OF CIVILIZATION. THEIR AMBASSADORS WILL HAVE TO LEARN OUR PROTOCOLS, FLASHING COLORS IN PROPER ORDER.
Verid sighed. By the time she ever got back to Prokaryon, her own micromen would be useless, having dwelt apart for generations. Precious time was wasting, while the timeless Elysians figured out what to do with her.
“A visitor,” intoned the hospital. “Iras Letheshon.”
Her head shot up, and she straightened herself. A cloud of light shimmered and became Iras, her hair flowing gloriously down her the back of her best train, the butterflies with their eyespots glowing red and gold. “Dear Iras,” she breathed.
Iras smiled sadly. “I wish I were real, dear, but this was the most they’d allow.”
“It was good of you to come.”
“How can I be without you? Even if you are always muttering to your nanoservos. You know, Verid, I tried my best to spring you, but these medics are just incorruptible.”
Despite herself Verid smiled. “That’s good to know.”
“Have you heard about Nibur? He was so besotted with that dog, he couldn’t bear to lose it. You’d think he’d just make a virtual one. Instead, he had the medics cleanse his memories.” Iras shook her head. “Start down that path, and it’s hard to stop. He’s not half the man he was.”
Verid nodded. “Too bad.”
“But look,” said Iras brightly. “I’ve brought you something to keep you company—Raincloud’s descendent!”
In a moment, there stood Sarai, resplendent in Sharer purple, flashing her fingerwebs as she lectured an unseen audience on DNA recombination. “Her research seminar, the one she gave at Station. It’s on public record, so I acquired it. Isn’t she gorgeous?”
“Stunning”—Verid laughed—“and most informative!” Then she grew serious again. “Listen, Iras; I need to tell you something. I give you my release.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I release you from our bond. You understand.”
“But Verid—”
“Iras, think.” Verid took a breath. This was hard, even harder than she imagined. “I carry micromen, now; I always will.”
“The Fold will let you out, eventually. They’re just punishing you for being right. They need you to negotiate; why only yesterday Loris was saying—”
“But Iras—they made you sick. Remember?”
Iras shuddered. “Too well.”
“You can’t touch me again. No one in their right mind would. You can’t take the risk.”
She thought this over. “Dear, I’ve never been the one to worry about risks.”
Verid looked down, feeling shamed.
“Besides—what a thing to say, after the fortune I just spent on you.” Iras’s net worth had fallen recently, by over three trillion credits.
“I’m sorry, the Urulite vote cost more than I thought.” A lot more; enough water projects, she figured, to turn his planet into Shora.
“The Urulite? That was nothing. I meant your birthday present. Remember?”
Verid put up her hands. “Goodness; I forgot.” What costly embarrassment could it be this time, for all the Elysians to cluck about? “Iras, I hope you were…”
“Discreet?” Iras finished. “You really are out of it, aren’t you? Don’t you even watch the news?”
“It’s all censored here,” snapped Verid. She nodded to the ceiling. “Go ahead, show it.”
The Anaeon newscaster appeared, his train of dead-leaf butterflies flowing behind him, similar to Verid’s own. “…from Reyo City, the Health Ministry announces a new project to diagnose and treat the ‘creeping’ disease, and to undertake preventive measures designed to eradicate the deadly prions. Funded by an anonymous grant of three trillion credits, the project will establish clinics all around the planet. Within ten years, experts estimate, the prion plague can be effectively eliminated…”
Verid rarely flushed, but she did so now, her face and hands warm, then cold. “Iras, you didn’t,” she said unsteadily.
“I would have named it for you, but you always said to be…discreet.” Iras wiped tears from her eyes, then collected herself. “Plagues are bad for business, don’t you know. And the one that’s left won’t be so easy.” She walked forward, until her shape nearly touched Verid in the face. “Please, Verid. Don’t be proud; tell Loris what he wants to hear, and get yourself out of there. I need you—and the Fold needs you, to talk with those micromen before we lose the chance.”
Rod watched the sky for the old servo lightcraft he had sent up to Station. There it was, a bright oval descending toward the overgrown brokenhearts. Estimating where the craft would land, he jogged alone down the newly cut path. A flock of helicoids took off from the field, their propellers clacking, while in the distance the blue-striped four-eyes grazed unconcerned. Sometime he would have to chase the herd farther from their crops, but not today.
With a bright flash and a whiff of ionization, the craft landed and was still. Out stepped Khral, waiting, the wind lifting her hair.
Rod ran to meet her, too fast, as his feet stumbled through the loopleaves. He caught her in his arms and met her lips. Then they sank down together and lay tangled in the loopleaves for a long while, a time beyond time.
“Rod,” she whispered, “are you sure it’s all right?”
“What’s right for you, is right for me. Can you live here now?”
Khral nodded, her fingers combing his hair. “I took in enough micromen to modify my chemistry so I can survive here. It wasn’t fun,” she admitted. “It was scary, after watching you go through it. But now they’re okay. They’re not a bad population; they’re scientists, wanting to know how everything works.”
“Curious, isn’t it, how they always imitate their host.”
“Don’t people always grow into their habitat?” Khral shifted onto her elbow. “Rod, what about your colony?”
“The colony is changing. A couple of Brethren are joining us, and I’ll be talking with them.”
“The Spirit Brethren? Not the ones that dance before the moon?”
“Only at midsummer.” He smiled. “Maybe I need to learn to dance, like ’jum.”
“So long as it’s with me.”
“Are you sure? You know I have nothing to give you. Not even…” With a sudden thought, he plucked a brokenheart and slipped it around her finger.
In the caverns of Mount Anaeon, ’jum was showing the new Sharers how to feed the carnivorous plant that secreted the enzymes for their work. “They’ll eat anything,” she explained, “but they like hoopsnakes best.”
A clickfly zoomed in to alight on her head. “Lightcraft landed outside,” it clucked excitedly. “Visitor coming up mountain.”
“Ushum?” Sarai called to her, looking up from the holostage where she tried to dissect the crossing-over of triplex chromosomes. “Ushum, can you see who it is. If it’s anyone but Khral, send them packing. We’re busy.”
“Yes, Mother.” She headed out to the mouth of the cavern. Blinking in the sun, she scanned the mountain across the valley. So many rays poked out between the crags, but now she had friends to help her count them. Down the slope cascaded the loopleaves, where little zoöids chased each other, clinging by their suckers. Whirrs soared up and down, carrying sisterlings from one world to another; at night, their messages would light up the singing-trees.
On the path below, a man in a cloak was climbing steadily toward the cavern. It was Brother Rod, come to see her again, ’jum smiled and waved.
1 0 0 0 0 1 0 1, (be sure to tell him,) reminded the Dancing People. (Warn him about the poisons some of our foreign sisters are trying to spread.)
I will, said ’jum.
(We’re trying to spread peace and democracy among the worlds, but it’s not easy.)
“Brother Rod!” ’jum did a cartwheel, landing on her toes.
“That’s a good trick, ’jum!” Brother Rod sketched a star in the air, and the stone at his neck glinted as if on fire He caught her up in his arms, then set her down. “You must be eating well.”
’jum thought he looked well, too, not as sad as he used to. “Brother Rod, you need to watch out for the other sisterlings, the ones that still live in the tumblerounds. Some of them are not yet civilized.”
“Do they hurt you?”
“Of course not.” She took his hand. “My sisterlings protect me. They are telling me the names of all the bad molecules to watch out for. Mother Sarai sends it all up to Station.”
“And Station tells the rest of the world, wherever the micromen have got it. It’s an important job you’re doing.” Brother Rod nodded. “Throughout the Fold, now, people are carrying worlds full of micromen. And, just like people, the Spirit has made more good than bad.”
“They need our help,” added ’jum. “They’re mostly children.” Children with elders, but no parents.
He looked out across the tops of the singing-trees, past the clouds and sun. A helicoid swooped down to catch something, its propellers humming. “There will be many more worlds to settle, now. And more of your own neighbors from Reyo have come to join us. So many changes—you would scarcely know the colony. But you will always have a home with us.”
“This is my home now.” ’jum nodded. “So many children. You were right, Brother Rod. This really is the Children Star.”
Appendix:
The Life-forms of Prokaryon
All native life-forms on Prokaryon contain ring-shaped structures, both in body plan and inside their cells (i.e. circular chromosomes). The zoöids are animal-like; phycoöids are plantlike; phycozoöids share traits of plant and animal; and microzoöids are microbes.
zoöid Animal-like species, capable of rapid movement; consume food.
four-eyes Zoöids that graze on wheelgrass in large herds. Shaped like car tires with suckers for “tread,” and four eyes spaced equally around. Several species known, ranging in size from bike tires to truck tires. Usually light in color, or striped to blend in with the wheelgrass.
helicoid Flying zoöids with ring-shaped propellers. Several species, the size of birds. Some are brightly colored.
hoopsnake Flexible, looplike zoöids which travel like a sidewinder snake. Capture prey by strangulation.
hydrazoöid Extended tubelike zoöids, with one fin winding in a spiral around the tube. Rotate as they swims through water.
megazoöid Large predatory zoöids, the size of an elephant. Capture prey (usually four-eyes) by running them over.
microzoöid Microscopic size; also called micros. Many classes, ranging from plant to animal, not yet well-known, except for one species later designated
micromen. T
he micromen are also called silicates, by the Elysian medics, after their silicate capsules inside the human body; also sisterlings, by the all-female Sharers.
whirr Tiny helicoids, like insects. Different species feed on juices of zoöids or phycoöids. One species transmits microzoöids between tumblerounds.
phycooid Plantlike species, with loopleaves and double-roots; absorb energy from light (photosynthesis).
brokenheart Tall looping stalks, with loops upon loops. Produce large numbers of edible ring-shaped fruit which look like wedding bands.
wheelgrass Tough green stalks, like croquet hoops, growing thickly across vast fields. Consumed by four-eyes; tend to catch feet of humans.
singing-tree Arch-shaped trunks, dark blue-green, many times taller than humans. In the upper loop branches, platelike leaves vibrate in the wind, “singing.” Hanging lightpods carry microzoöids which produce light.
phycozoöid Species share traits of plants and animals. Most are not yet well-known.
tumbleround Human-sized life-form, shaped like a collapsed truck tire. Color is gray-green; perform some photosynthesis, but also feed on wheelgrass and dead creatures. Long tendrils can slowly pull the creatures into a new position. Always infested by microzoöids and covered with whirrs.
ring fungus Parasitic growth around the trunk of singing-trees. Can be dried to form a tough material usable for construction of buildings.
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