'If it is any consolation to you, he would not have lived any longer if you had stayed with him,’ he said awkwardly.
Paama looked hard at him until he looked back at her, so that she could show him how her face was part smiles, part tears, part guilt, and part relief.
'Now I believe you when you say you cannot read my mind. Hurry up and go. I think he is waking up again.'
22
something positive from a grave mistake
When he returned to the streets of the quarantined section of the town, someone was waiting for him, someone silver-haired.
'Hello Chance,’ she said.
'Hello Patience,’ he replied cautiously.
Mere nicknames, shadows of the whole appellation even as their visible, tangible bodies were shadows of the self in its entirety. But I must do what I can for my human audience.
'You are alone.’ It was a statement—it was clear she was alone; but it was also a question—
'The others stopped hunting for you the moment you left Paama alone. I tell, knowing the schedule of duty, I knew where you would be.'
He said nothing. It was no surprise to him that his unconscious, untold decision should already have been announced to the universe.
He glanced down the street. There was a thin spiral of smoke rising from an upper floor window in one of the deserted houses.
'Unless you want to walk through flame, we should leave soon,’ he remarked.
She shrugged. Fire would not harm them, but assembling a new shadow took time and energy. They began to walk away from the thickening smoke.
'What changed?’ she asked him.
He walked a few more pensive steps, and then answered. ‘Paama is an unusual woman.'
There was a distant crackle of timber burning. The two looked back and saw that an entire upper storey was suddenly fully ablaze.
'Liquor stores,’ Chance remarked, and the two continued walking.
'Not as unusual as you might think,’ she said, replying at last to his comment about Paama. ‘There are many women like her, considered by some to be virtuous and loyal, considered by others as foolish and weak. What about Paama changed you?'
'Nothing stopped her from trying to do what she felt to be right, not even despair. She was willing to learn, and when she felt the lesson was beyond her capacity, she was willing to simply obey.'
'Ah, so you saw her duty,’ Patience said, sounding pleased.
'No. Not at first. She saw her duty long before I noticed it. There are many things that I once knew but which I had forgotten, and one of them was that human duty is not very different from ours.’ He sighed, and changed the subject slightly. ‘So, what will my punishment be?'
'Yes, I expected that. Once your despair had run out, the pride would come forward. What kind of punishment would make you feel you had properly paid your debt? What degree of severity would allow you to feel superior to others who had transgressed and been let off more lightly? Be careful what you answer.'
He felt hurt. ‘I only speak of the correct order of things.'
'Crime and then punishment, I know. But what is the purpose of punishment?'
He paused for a long while to consider this. It suddenly struck him that he was being tested. ‘To restore the one who has erred to the former position of trust and authority.'
'To wipe out the fact of your disobedience? Try again,’ she scoffed.
He mused a while longer, feeling small and slightly panicked as he did so. ‘Payment? Restitution?'
'And again you speak of things that will clear your debt. Suppose your debt can never be cleared. What then?'
'Are you telling me I will never be allowed to return to my work?’ he asked, aghast.
By then they had crossed the quarantine barrier, but the blaze was not far behind. It blew forth a hot wind that had alerted the barrier guards to the growing danger, but they were hesitant to act, debating whether saving the city from swift death by fire was worth risking a slow death by plague. As miserable as Chance was feeling, he paused for a moment with Patience to watch their agitation.
'There is a chance that they might decide to simply restrict the fire to the quarantine area,’ Patience noted.
'There is a very large chance that they will try and fail to do so. Look above!'
There were glowing embers flying in the air like small firestars, each one bearing the contagion of disaster over the quarantine barrier.
'Let us walk forward,’ Patience suggested, and the pair took one giant step through folded space into the centre of the city.
It was still very peaceful there, the peace of a Sunday morning. There was a faint sound of music which was louder than the clatter of the scant traffic in the streets. Although it was neither his concern nor his duty, Chance felt some relief. Fewer people meant that there would be fewer to fight the spread of the fire, and it also meant fewer victims. The cloud was a smudge on the horizon, partially obscured by high buildings, but it was beginning to loom and darken the day. Curls of ash were already being chased through the dry gutters by the wind.
Patience was humming softly. ‘
Chance kept silent and let his steps drift closer to the sound of the music. It was coming from a small, domed theatre. He stopped in the portico and peered inside. The audience was hushed and intent, as devout- seeming as any congregation hearing a bishop's sermon. The vocal orchestra was a dim blur at the back of the hall, but even at that distance there was something in their faces that showed through the faintly smoky air.
'Redemption and mercy for them, but not for us,’ he murmured.
Patience sighed. ‘You are being so difficult.'
They stood for a while listening to the music, much of which sounded familiar, while the sky darkened and ash spiralled down from above. Finally, the sound of snapping, crackling flame joined with the vocal harmonies, and smothered coughing began to be heard in the crowd.
'We've stayed too long.’ Patience stepped out of the portico and pointed to the dome of the theatre. The dry wind had carried embers far in advance of the main blaze, and there was an ominous, dense smoke pouring down from the roof.
Inside the theatre, a rumbling of worried noise began to rise above the music.
'Time to go, I think,’ Chance said. ‘Shall we go forward, or leave?'
'Neither. Let us go ahead a few days, then a few months to see how the city has recovered.'
Just as the junior djombi had put his hosts into bubbles of slowed time, so did this senior pair spin around themselves a cocoon from which they, open eyed, were able to see a sudden bloom of flame and smoke, the microsecond collapse of the dome, and then a lingering haze.
'Go straight on,’ said Chance, changing his mind. ‘I want to see it rebuilt rather than burnt.'
They went ahead so quickly so that all outside was blurred twilight, and then they slowed to check the state
