Falija said, “The Keeper called you its daughter. And being Pthas would explain a lot of things, like how you knew about the Keeper. The Gentherans will be interested in that!”
Ferni had been sitting quietly in the corner, his eyes fixed on the woman they had brought from the gate, who was now struggling to sit up, staring wildly at him, and whispering, “Is that you, Joziré?”
“Yes he is,” said the Gardener. “Though he still does not know it. Lady Nepenthe has moved in and out of his life several times, but there will be time to talk of that later.”
Ferni almost growled, then stood very tall and demanded, “One thing will not wait until later! What’s happened on B’yurngrad?”
Gardener was startled. “I don’t know. Mr. Weathereye went back to see the end…”
“I did see it,” said Mr. Weathereye.
They turned to see him leaning in the doorway. “The three races continued dropping ghyrm,” he rumbled. “More and more of them at a time. They had unlimited numbers of them aboard, and the persons on the ships were drunk with destruction. It seems Naumi and his talk road had had what Caspor calls ‘a hunch.’ They had changed the calibration of the instrument so that it covered less surface area but reached much, much higher. The ships came lower and lower, so they could watch the carnage below them, oh, so well acted by the tribesmen, who writhed and twisted and screamed, then crawled away, recovering only to die again. They have a talent for dramatics, those men, born, I should think, from many generations of braggadocio around the campfires…”
“What happened?” shouted Ferni.
“We watched the ships drop down, watched the gauge on the fuel cell of the machine, dropping as the ships did, almost reaching zero, and just as the machine approached the end of its power, the ships themselves dropped within range of it, and every ghyrm still on the ships died.”
He heaved a great sigh. “…and not only the ghyrm.”
“Not the tribes? The umoxen,” we Margarets cried.
“Quite safe, lady. Not so, however, the K’Famir, the Frossians, the Quaatar on board the ships, for they died as their creatures died. You will remember the size of those ships? They were the ones the trading races use to carry huge cargoes plus huge numbers of crew and their families, and they were full to bursting with Frossians, K’Famir, and Quaatar who wanted to see us die. There might have been a million of them on those ships, the entire ruling class of three starfaring races. We had no idea they would do that…”
“We did,” said I from my place on the couch. “Naumi did.”
The Gardener peered at Weathereye. “But Ongamar thought they made the creatures out of human children!”
“They made them out of human pain,” I said. “But it was themselves they put into the making! The tissue, the flesh, was most closely matched to human, in order to be able to attach to it, feed on it, but it wasn’t the flesh that mattered! It was the bloodlust that moved them, and whatever will kill the ghyrm will kill those who made them as well.” I lay back; my eyes closed; I heard them go on talking.
Gardener asked, “What has the Siblinghood done? They haven’t started a war?”
Weathereye shook his head. “They had planned to ship a machine to Cantardene. Then the change happened, you know, the mother-mind thing. Everyone was very confused. When the confusion grew a little less, and when they saw what had happened on B’yurngrad, they decided not to do it. They’ve put the machines in storage.”
The Gardener nodded. “Something in their history has moved them to patience. Wise leaders do not go to war with enemies, not even evil enemies, unless they have thought it through to the end.”
Time went by on Tercis.
Gloriana and Bamber Joy went to Maybelle, Jimmy Joe, and Jeff, to tell them, and only them, what had happened. It took more than one telling, over considerable time, and once again Gloriana was accused of telling fairy tales. Despairing, Gloriana took Maybelle to visit the Margarets. Maybelle had tea with them, her, and they talked for hours. When Maybelle left, she still appeared confused and a bit teary, but she looked happier than when she had arrived.
Subsequently, in the Ruehouse in Crossroads, Pastor Grievy held a memorial service for Margaret Mackey, lost in the river while escaping from the bad men during the recent unpleasantness in The Valley. Gloriana and Bamber Joy had been unable to save her; but it gave them solace, they said, to dedicate the stone that was set in the cemetery, next to Dr. Mackey’s, in her memory.
“And it’s true, sort of,” said Gloriana. “Our grandma is really gone.”
The Allocation people on Tercis, following the acquisition of mother-mind and after lengthy consultation with the Gentherans, changed many of their assignment procedures. Most of those on Tercis had reacted to the acquisition of mother-memory with significant and positive personality changes, but some had proven to have a mental defect that made them impervious to history. Among the latter were Billy Ray and Mayleen, who together with Benny Paul, Janine Ruth, and Sue Elaine were moved to a new Walled-Off, created especially, as Jimmy Joe put it, “For them as are pigheaded, mule-stubborn, and thick as a post!” Jeff ’s brother, Til, was assigned to the same Walled-Off, with the understanding that he might receive, from time to time, a chance at reassignment. Trish was moved to a small Walled-Off created especially for people like her, where she could be contented and cared for.
Maybelle and Jimmy Joe agreed to foster Orvie John and little Emmaline while keeping their fingers crossed.
Ferni stayed on Tercis, spending much of his time with Margaret, though he didn’t call her that. Or M’urgi. Or anything except you, or lady, or very occasionally, dear one.
Lady Badness dropped by one
