The Margarets by Sheri S. Tepper
“And everything dependent upon time,” said Ferni. “I wonder if that’s what has the Siblinghood in a furor…”
Flek, Jaker, and Poul had risen, and they were gone almost before those of us remaining had digested what had just happened.
“I’m suddenly hungry,” Mar-agern said. “Would it be possible to have something to eat?”
“Certainly,” Naumi replied. “Especially if, during supper, we can hear more about this mother-mind business.”
The eight of us, including Falija, dined alone in a small dining room at the officers’ mess, an exceptionally good dinner, as the academy cooks were trying out the menus they had selected for the reunion. As we ate, we decided what else needed to be done before we could go to B’yurngrad. When we had freed M’urgi from her captors, we would continue through the B’yurngrad way-gate to Cantardene (assuming Caspor’s map of the way-gates was accurate) to find another of us, if and only if Jaker’s one-eyed egotist hadn’t found her first.
“The gates on Cantardene may or may not be close together,” I remarked. “The ones here and on Fajnard were. I never saw the one that enters Tercis…”
“I did,” said Falija. “It was very near the one we used, hidden back in a cleft in the rock where most of them seem to be. It makes sense that each pair would be close together.”
I murmured, “I should mention that we left Tercis because a couple of pseudohumans were chasing us. Or trying to. On Fajnard, they were definitely chasing us.”
“Robots,” said Bamber Joy, who, while eating enormously, had said very little up until then. “Acted like robots, talked like robots. Might have come from some technological Walled-Off on Tercis.”
“What Walled-Off did you come from?” Ferni asked curiously.
“Rueful,” I answered. “The name says it all, and it’s too long a story for tonight.”
“Not a high-tech place, though?” asked Naumi.
I shook my head. “No, Naumi, not a high-tech place. We had electricity, and that was about the extent of it. No powered vehicles except for those from Tercis Central we occasionally saw, plus the one Ned and Walter drove.”
“Let’s leave it until morning,” Naumi said. “Our minds will go on worrying at it overnight, and they may give us a head start after we’ve slept.”
We finished our meal and trooped back to the cadet house, where Mar-agern and I were given rooms down the hall. Falija, Bamber, and Glory took their pick of bunks in a nearby dormitory.
I returned to the common room, needing to sit quietly for a time before attempting sleep, but I found Naumi, Ferni, and Caspor still there. When I came in, Naumi rose, went to a low cupboard along the wall, and took out a bottle.
“Caspor? Ferni? Margaret? Yes? Me, too.” He poured, distributed, and sat down opposite us, turning the glass idly in his hand. “Have any of you ever hear of a planet called Hell?”
“Yes,” I said. “We learned of it in school, back on Earth, and Falija mentioned it to me just a few moments ago. The native race has almost gone extinct several times. By now, they probably are.”
“That seventh star-point, hanging out there in the nowhere. That’s how someone described that planet, Hell, to me.”
“That’s what Falija said. That’s a seventh planet.”
“We’re a long way from walking road number seven,” said Caspor. “Right now I’m a good deal more worried about a place like Cantardene in the known-where than anyplace in the nowhere. And there’s always the possibility I’m totally wrong about this whole thing.”
Naumi emptied his glass, yawned, rose, and bid us good night, concluding, “You’re usually right, Caspor. I don’t see we have any choice but taking a chance on it.”
They went off to bed. I sat there for some time, thinking of that seven-pointed star, wondering about Hell, and what one of us could be doing on it, out in the nowhere.
I Am Gretamara/on Chottem
The Gardener arrived in Bray late in the evening. She found Sophia and me sitting on the terrace beneath the tree. As we rose to greet her, she said, “You’ve found out what was rotten here on Chottem!”
Sophia said, “Gardener, you knew something was wrong!”
“I’d smelled it, Sophia. This is too recently settled a planet to permit any legitimate accumulation of great wealth, not in one lifetime, not in several, yet Stentor was a rich man, and Von Goldereau grows richer by the hour.”
“Slaves,” I said. “Men grow rich selling slaves.”
“Yes, selling slaves, including children, has always been a quick way to riches.”
I said, “The children don’t come from this world, Gardener. They have to come from somewhere else.”
“An old man brought me the keys to the cellars,” said Sophia. “He said he’d given his grandson to my grandfather to be sent to another world to be educated as a gentleman. I’m afraid this was a cruel and vicious joke. What world needs human children to educate and make gentlemen?”
“There is no such world. There is a world, however, where children are surplus, and another where children are bought and sold.”
“Earth,” I said. “And Cantardene.”
Gardener nodded. “Yes. Anyone needing a guaranteed source of children would deal with Earth.”
“Would any parent sell…?” I breathed.
“Earthians have sold their children for thousands of years,” said the Gardener. “Surplus daughters have been sold as prostitutes, surplus sons to the army. Among the sterile castes of K’Famir, human pets are common, but that does not account for the numbers necessary to have amassed this fortune.”
I was gripped by the memory of my own feelings when I had been ripped away from my home. Through tears, I said, “With riches like those in the cellars, Stentor must have brought enormous numbers from Earth. But how? On what ships?”
“Omniont or Mercan captains wouldn’t transport cargoes to Chottem that would sell for more on Cantardene,” mused Sophia.
“True,” Gardener agreed. “But the Lorn and Bray families were wealthy on Earth, and they bought ships to bring settlers from Earth. The wealth in these cellars could have purchased an armada!”
I thought out loud. “Stentor could have claimed the children were to be colonists, but where did he keep them?”
Sophia gestured widely. “Manland is vast, and mostly uninhabited. People have come here since we arrived, winking and nodding to say that they did business with him, Von Goldereau among them. Perhaps he knows.”
“We know none were sent through these cellars since Stentor died,” I said. “The notes we read make that clear. If Von Goldereau is in the same trade, he has another route.”
“You left none of the dead creatures down there?” the Gardener asked. “I would like to have seen one.”
“I left none, but I can describe them for you,” I offered. “The size of my two hands, clenched together, with ten or eleven arms or legs or tentacles…”
“Ghyrm,” said the Gardener. “Well, that’s what I thought they must be. When Stentor did not reply, they were angered, and they sent ghyrm through the gate to destroy him. He was too wily to be taken so. Tomorrow we will go down there, Sophia, and have a look at this place, this doorway. Whoever is buying these children has access both to great wealth and to ghyrm, and I need to send word of that to my friends. Also, if your cellar can spare some of its riches, we may use some of it to pay for what we must accomplish next.”
“I have never known you to buy anything,” I cried, astonished.
The Gardener replied, “Warriors like to be paid, even those of the Siblinghood, who are choosy about what they fight for. We will have need of more than a few of them.”
“Would my grandfather have approved of this expenditure?” Sophia asked with a sly smile.
“Almost certainly not.” The Gardener grinned.
“Then you may use as much as you can, with my blessing,” said the heiress.
I Am Ongamar/on Cantardene
In House
Disguised as a Hrass and using the stolen money, I had purchased a go-pass on an outgoing ship that was to leave during the anniversary celebration of the Great Leader’s accession to power, tomorrow. House Mouselline would be closed, today was my last day, so I took my self-allotted share from the cash box and tucked it under my padding, totaled up the transfer document and laid it atop the box, then began tidying the little cubby where I worked, paying no attention to the clamor in the showroom, until I heard my own name.
“Miss Ongamar, yes. If you don’t mind.” I was stunned by the voice, a human voice, male, very firm, a little amused.
“This shop is only for the tamistachi, the elite of K’Famir,” shrieked Lady Ephedra. “Dirty human slaves are not welcome.”
The man laughed, a deep, truly amused chuckle. “Ah, but Lady Ephedra, I am not a dirty human slave, I am a diplomat from the Dominion. Here, my diplomatic pass. Here’s identification, see, my likeness without a doubt, resembling no one else.”
“It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, someone may see you here, someone may smell you here…”
“Then it would be wise to let me see Miss Ongamar so that I may go away the sooner, would it not?”
I heard the scuttling feet and stood with my back to the wall. The curtain that enclosed my cubby was drawn aside with a rattle of rings, and Lady Ephedra pointed toward me with both left arms. “She is here! See her and go!”
The man stood politely aside while the Lady departed, then slipped into the cubby, looked me over from head to toe with one eye and one eye patch, whispering as he did so:
“Gather up what you need and come with me.”
“And who are you,” I grated, halfway between anger and terror. I had needed only one more day! If anything was guaranteed to make the Lady Ephedra my enemy, this was it.
“I am sometimes called Stipps, sometimes Mr. Weathereye,” he said, bowing slightly. “I often work with the Dominion and the Siblinghood, which group tells me your term as a bondservant was actually fulfilled some time ago. I have the documents here, as approved by the K’Famir official for this sector, and if you will be kind enough to take me to your living quarters, we will discuss your future plans.”
I dithered. If…if what he said was true, then I needn’t fear the retribution that Lady Ephedra would exact. On the other hand, if it wasn’t true, I was in trouble up to my eyebrows. On the one hand, the man seemed very sure, but on the other hand, people were often very sure about things that had no truth to them whatsoever…
He leaned forward. “Please, Margaret. Just release your hold on the back of that chair and come with me.”
“Ongamar,” I corrected him. “Miss Ongamar.”
“Yes, Margaret. I know.”
Somehow, he managed to convince me. Somehow he managed to dissuade Lady Ephedra from making a fuss as we went out of the building to the street and down the narrow way to my rooms. When I reached out to put my key in the door, he whispered, “Where is it?”
My throat froze. I shivered in terror, trying to speak.
“Point,” he said in my ear. “Just point.”
I did so. Mr. Weathereye said, “Ella May?”
“Here,” said a female voice, the person herself coming through the alley gate, a sturdy woman with a case in one hand. We went in. The woman opened the case, empty except for a small set of implements, which she removed before she went to the closed closet door.
“It’s in here?”
I nodded. The pair went in. I heard a scuffle, then a scream so shrill it made my ears hurt, then a panting sound, another scream and silence. The woman came out, wiping a peculiarly shaped knife on a piece of glowing fabric.
“Now,” Mr. Weathereye said cheerfully to me. “Do you have anything here you want to take with you?”
I begged, “Where are we going?”
“Off Cantardene, my dear. My claim of signed release documents was a false one, for which I apologize. By this time, Lady Ephedra will have summoned the K’Famir, who will shortly assault this dwelling with the aim of killing you. We suggest you quickly put all necessities into this case, and we’ll go.”
I was jolted into movement. I had already set aside a folded change of clothing and shoes. My Hrass robes and disguise lay ready, and if this man could not do what he told me he could do, I might still use these to escape. I saw his eyebrows rise when I put the disguise into the case, filling it completely. Ella May dropped the implements atop the Hrassian false nose, and we went out the door.
The gate through the wall was open. In the alley outside a dark, smooth vehicle hummed quietly. Its doors opened, Ella May climbed inside and extended a hand to help me inside, where I collapsed onto the seat with an abrupt sense of mixed elation and horror. Either I would wake up and be back in Lady Ephedra’s fitting room, or I had escaped. I had no intention of finding out which. If this was to be a temporary ecstasy, I would not abbreviate it.
The vehicle rose soundlessly except for an almost subliminal hum. Mr. Weathereye touched the door and it became transparent. We looked down on K’Famir wearing the straps and weapons of police massed at the street opening of my little alley, then pouring down it in a flood, blocking both door and alley as a dozen or so of them rushed into my dwelling.
“Why?” I cried. “Why do they want to kill me?”
An old woman seated in front next to Ella May turned and said, “The orders came from the palace of the K’Famir Chief Planner. Next to the Great Leader, that’s as high as K’Famir go. Some long time ago, he gave a Thongal spy a few ghyrm to be fastened upon certain human bondslaves on Cantardene to see if these bondslaves were part of a conspiracy. You were one of them. Lately, the Chief Planner learned that the Siblinghood had been looking for you, watching for you. This was taken as proof you were part of a conspiracy, so he ordered that you be killed now, tonight, instead of later, which Lady Mouselline preferred.”
“Why?” I whispered. “Why would he even know about me?”
“Perhaps he doesn’t. He probably takes take his orders from someone else,” said Mr. Weathereye. “We don’t really know what creature may be at the top, but if it isn’t K’Famir, then it’s Quaatar or Frossian.”
“Or all three,” said the old woman. She turned toward me once more. “I’m Lady Badness. We had already planned to come for you. Such badness here among the K’Famir, always such badness. Lady Mouselline always has her fitters killed, but she has delayed your execution several times, and we took advantage of that, not wanting to…betray ourselves beforetime. When we learned that the Chief Planner’s office wasn’t going to wait any longer, we moved quickly, as we are moving to find out who the creature at the top of this evil pyramid may be.”
“Who told you that they wanted me killed?” I cried.
“Someone who listens for us,” Lady Badness replied. “We have people who listen for us. The K’Famir walk in the Bak-Zandig-g’Shadup, their clothing brushes against one of our listeners, they walk away, but now their clothing listens to what they say and tells us about it.”
“I guess I’m one of your listeners, too,” I said. “That’s what I did,there in the fitting room. I listened.”
Below us, the K’Famir were coming out of the house. One of them waved something to another.
“What’s that thing he’s waving?” asked Ella May.
I looked down, uncertain. Suddenly the image magnified, and I saw wha
“Oh, no,” I cried. “My go-pass. I was going to leave Cantardene tomorrow…”
“Will they know the pass was sold to you personally?” Lady Badness asked sharply.
I shook my head. “I bought it in the guise of a Hrass, for they’re always coming through Bak-Zandig-g’Shadup…”
“You left most of your belongings back there,” said Mr. Weathereye. “They may assume you plan to return. In any case, unless they’ve recently had a great advance in technology, they cannot see this flier, even if they are looking directly at it.”
This rang an alarm in my mind, but for the moment I could not think why. “Where are we going?”
“We have a place here on Cantardene, a very safe place, we hope, and just until we can figure out a way to get back to…where do we want to get back to?” he asked the old woman.
“Thairy, I believe. That’s where we started from…”
“But the others were going to B’yurngrad…”
“…or B’yurngrad. I imagine either would do.”
I murmured, “What do you do there, or here? I mean, what is your work?”
The man laughed. “Rescuing maidens. Not without self-interest, you understand. Since the K’Famir kill anyone they suspect of knowing something touchy about the K’Famir, and since you were scheduled for killing, we assume you have something that will prove to be very useful to us.”
“Oh,” gasped I with a spurt of pure joy. “Oh, after all these years, I do have something for you!”
Their ship sped across the pleasure quarter to the outskirts of the city, passing above Beelshi. I shuddered.
“What is it?” asked Mr. Weathereye.
“I saw them…” I began, stopping, gulping, my throat blocked by swallowed tears.
“Tell us,” Lady Badness said firmly.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I wrote it all down.”
“Which is why you must! We haven’t time for documents.”