Of a Note in a Cosmic Song; Part Five Read online

  Even though she’d resolved to be in total control, the sound of his voice at the entrance made her nervous. The rules said you were to play all the way to the end. She wouldn’t go down in a counter-challenge, not after all this, but his little tease earlier had been clear enough: he’d kept his end of the bargain. Now it was her turn and he’d be making the demands.

  She focused on the wall when he came in, straightened up as well as she could and put her hands around the twined reed of her belt. He didn’t say anything and seemed to be waiting. Was she expected to speak first? Should she declare that he had won? How did those official treyaks from the past go?

  After a minute or so, Maike walked in, followed by Yako and then Nini. Benjamar took the lamp in and motioned to the ledge opposite Jema for the others to sit on.

  Jema tried not to look at them. She needed a better place for her hands that wouldn’t show too much aggression. To just have a cup to hold like earlier would be a blessing. Eventually she put them in the hollow of her back to be out of sight, holding each wrist with the opposite hand. That must look stupid too, but by now Benjamar was ready to speak. Tall as he was and knowing it – he’d make this as difficult for her as he could. She stole a quick glance at the witnesses anyway. Only Yako saw it and winked at her.

  “I have cancelled the elections, declared the results invalid and announced to all people that we will start over trying to live in the manner of the ancient kennin. I did it because I was no longer convinced that an otacy in the manner of DJar will benefit the future of the colony. Does this merit my mastering your challenge?”

  He didn’t have to ask that. She answered with a nod only. He didn’t insist on a verbal response but turned to the others, almost regally. “In the opinion of the witnesses?”

  He got their agreement also without words.

  “Two days ago this was a complete impossibility for me, the challenge and the idea behind it, so I sought an impossible counter, but you accepted. Then yesterday, a most disagreeable day, everybody went mad. Today I think we have come to the outcome neither of us expected. So acknowledge that I have mastered your challenge and ask me if you can be my servant.”

  He spoke his command in the most pleasant voice. So pleasant that her stomach received the message before her mind did. It tightened into a knot. He wanted her to say it: to literally ask him to accept her as his slave. He stepped closer. It was all he needed to do to repeat his request. He wouldn’t accept a silence. She pulled her shoulders back up and looked at him without seeing his eyes. “You have won the challenge.”

  “Not good enough.” His response was immediate, hard and cold. It threw her off guard. She needed words, the right words. She couldn’t show herself vulnerable. As soon as she met his eyes she knew she’d failed. There was an inkling of a smile there as he raised his eyebrows once more. She glanced away.

  Wrong! Instantly his attitude changed. “Acknowledge me!”

  The hairs on her arms jumped up. She did as he ordered and looked at him.

  “Well?” he asked, gentle and soft as if…

  She knew what he was doing. He was the master of the unexpected and she needed to concentrate rather than debate within. “I acknowledge that you mastered the challenge.” There she’d said it. Not sure anymore if the words were even hers.

  “Now ask me if you can be my servant.”

  Of course. They were only words. How hard could it be? She bit her lip trying not to look away.

  “Ask me.”

  His calm insistence only increased her despondency. Just a few words. She took a breath, knew the air came out as it tickled her vocal cords but the words weren’t there. Nothing. Was she really that conceited?

  “Ask me,” he repeated without waiting. “We have an agreement. Or do I have to start believing you were not truthful when you accepted?”

  She forced the words, pushing her nails into her arms so hard there was no chance of letting any other thoughts get in the way; searching for the next word when the previous was already out; one small sentence, slow and endless: “Can… I be… your… servant?” And how stupid did it sound!

  Benjamar deliberately looked behind him, seeking confirmation from the three witnesses to whether the response was good enough.

  Please don’t make her do it again.

  He turned back. One nod of his head.

  She breathed out, trying to do it silently. Benjamar was too clever.

  “Tomorrow I’ll conduct a trial to deal with the accusations of the Society. For that I will need answers – answers from you. Answers to what happened last night and the night before. I’m going to have enough trouble already trying to stop them from lynching you.”

  That was comforting.

  “I expect your co-operation. I expect you to accept me and the council as judicators. I expect you to honour the trial whatever the outcome. I’m not going to make it easy – not for you or for any of the others. The only option we have is to find a satisfactory solution to all those involved. That alone is going to require a miracle. In the process of that I need you to speak, not remain silent. But remember who you’re talking to. My anger comes not from what you say but from your insolence.”

  He was dead serious now. She nodded her understanding.

  “You see, Jema, I’m not completely ignorant either. I found your weakness a while ago. You experienced that just now. If you think today was hard, I will make it a whole lot worse tomorrow if you play games with me. You understand me?”

  She’d nodded a yes before thinking about it. She’d never thought of Benjamar as ignorant.

  “If I say ‘answer’ then I mean with words.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s not good enough. Address me.”

  A little reminder that it wasn’t over yet. She had to say it, not think. “Yes Benjamar, I understand.” The words almost hurt.

  “Good girl. You learn fast.”

  He was putting her down. Thank Bue he’d not invited the kids.

  “I want you to go home and think about what will come next. Think of what you are doing here, what it is you want from me and from yourself. Think about what you can do, should do maybe, for Leni and Rorag. So far I’ve seen a lot of clever thinking, but little more. It won’t do to seek somebody’s honour if you hide yourself behind pride. Pride is the poison that turns honour into arrogance. Think about that. You can go.”

  The sound of her breath made too much noise in the silent room.

  He turned to the others. “I think we all need to eat and get some sleep.”

  The first steps outside were like stepping into a cold stream on a hot day. Home was quiet and dark. No more questions, no more looks. Preferably forever.

  Nini didn’t want to ask the obvious question once Jema had left. Like Mektar, Benjamar didn’t do things without a reason, but Maike spoke for all of them. “You did better with words than I could have using my belt.”

  “That was my privilege,” Benjamar answered. “But if you’re asking if I was out for revenge? No. More like a test.”

  He promised to inform them about the trial early morning. First some food and sleep. That was fair enough. He looked exhausted.

  Marya welcomed them, saying this was the last time she’d ever cook for this hearth if nobody turned up without explaining why. The only one with her was Hani. Kunag and Leyon had eaten in their shelter. Laytji had refused to come off her mat. Aryan had waited for a while but had since left Marya with the message that Maike could drop dead.

  Nini hastily ate some food and then scooped a bowl full to carry out. She gave Marya a quick kiss. “No offence.”

  In their home, Jema was sitting on the ledge against the wall.

  “Hungry?” Nini asked.

  Jema indicated not.

  “Well it’s cold too, but you have to eat something. You had nothing this morning.”

  Jema took the bowl but made no effort to even look at it. Nini scooted her over to sit beside her and waited. She had a
ll night if need be. Her own worries were over. Even Frimon’s death had not depressed her as much as she’d thought losing somebody would do. It wasn’t because it was Frimon, it was because she’d done all she could. It had been out of her hands. Now she was needed here.

  Since silences opened doors that words could not, Nini observed Jema for a while: The personification of a challenge if there ever was one, but the only place that showed was in her eyes. Unwilling to expose herself, her facial expression was like her dress, a veil better than Wana’s. Yet her observing eyes pierced into Nini’s, even now, searching to find the connection that was already there. She never smiled much, as if life itself would be disgraced if made fun of. “Solemn” was maybe the only proper word, but a challenge wasn’t solemn, though here, today, it could be.

  Jema had her legs pulled up, one arm on her knees and her head on top of that, looking sideways at Nini. The other hand was holding the bowl in mid-air.

  Nini took it away. “Will you let me in?” she whispered.

  “I want to, but… I don’t know how.”

  Nini had not expected a response. “Let go. Open the door.”

  “I can’t. I don’t have… a key?” Jema flung her hands out for a moment. “Bue, I don’t even have a door.” But her words were toneless and she never looked up.

  “What if I opened it?”

  “I’m… I don’t know, worried – about what you’ll see.”

  “What will I see, Jema?”

  “I don’t know. Something dark and cold.”

  “Has anybody ever been in? When you were young?”

  “Kaspi, I guess.”

  “Did she like what she saw?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. …I’m sorry.”

  “What for?”

  “I messed up… everywhere. Always.”

  “How?”

  No answer. Whatever Benjamar had shaken, he had shaken it hard.

  “Where would we find the fire to make it warm and light, Jema?”

  “There’s no more fire. I killed it.”

  “Are you afraid of the dark?”

  “I’m used to it.”

  “You challenged Benjamar?”

  “Ha. Yes, that was stupid.”

  “Did he douse the fire?”

  “I was told off like a little kid.”

  “I guess, to Benjamar we’re all little children. Are you afraid of him?”

  “No.”

  “So when did the fire go out?”

  Silence.

  Nini moved to sit on her knees on the mat in front of the ledge. She pulled Jema’s arms away and untied the belt. “Was it with Daili?”

  Then the eye contact came after all. “I don’t know, Nini. I should have gone to her. There were so many opportunities. I wanted to, you know, but the words never came. It was like… like this door. It wouldn’t open.”

  It was opening a little now. “I’m going to come in. Don’t be afraid.” Nini put her arms inside Jema’s dress and pulled her forward, away from the cold wall, slowly stroking her back. It caused more monotonous words to flow.

  “I thought it would be different here, away from DJar, but it all came back again. Just when it was good, I ruined it. I should have known, Nini. I was the only one who could have, but I stepped in anyway and now he’s dead. And Leni is hurt too. I hurt her worse than Daili.”

  Nini’s hands found the buttons. This dress must have close to three kor of them and with each the words came faster.

  “Say something, Nini. Tell me I was wrong. I was, you know. It’s all my fault. I hurt you, and Rorag. Please say something. Why is everybody always silent? Why is it always the good people who get hurt? It’s got to stop. Someone has to stop it.”

  As soon as Nini pulled her hands away, Jema put her arms around her knees and buried her head inside them. Nini, in turn, pulled Jema’s legs down to lean on them. Mektar would wait. He would wait for hours if needed, but Nini wasn’t Mektar.

  “Tell me when the fire went out, Jema. I want to know.”

  “It’s too late.”

  “No it’s not. Look at me.”

  The smile wasn’t real. “A long time ago.”

  “Tell me how.”

  “It just wasn’t worth it anymore.”

  “What wasn’t?” Nini wiped the brown hair away from Jema’s face so she couldn’t hide behind it.

  “Like I challenged Benjamar? I’ve done that before. Not officially like now, but… And I never lost. That’s why I was always alone. People left me; my mother did.”

  “When did she leave you?”

  “When I was still in my first kor, I guess. She didn’t physically leave, but she couldn’t fight me, so I turned away and she didn’t come looking. I was alone until Kaspi took over. But now… I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t do it alone anymore.”

  “Tell me about Kaspi.”

  “She was Mom’s friend. Then one day she stepped in…”

  “How did she step in?”

  “…You know… She waited until Mom was out, but she still risked everything… for me. I mean, she didn’t know if I would tell, but I didn’t, because I suddenly knew that somebody still cared. She became my mother then. I was there when she died.”

  “Did you cry for her, Jema?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The easy answer. Always ready. “Yes you do. Tell me.”

  “If she hadn’t been there, I would have ended up like Nori.”

  “Did you cry for Nori?”

  “You don’t understand. I couldn’t let them make me. I’d have been just another meek little puppet, doggie-trained by Learners. It was wrong and somebody had to say it. Only it won anyway, didn’t it? It just killed them all!”

  Along with the emotional charge came the intonation. Nini pulled Jema from the ledge onto the mat and pushed her down. “You’re not alone. I’ll never leave you alone.”

  “It’s too late.”

  “No. It can never be too late.” Nini climbed on top of Jema, pinning her between her legs. “People don’t grow too old for needing someone. There’s always time. Even Benjamar is not too old.”

  “I’m tired of being alone, Nini, I’m tired of everything.”

  “It’s okay.” Nini pulled away the dress and let her hands talk, trying to warm up the body underneath her. The door was open but she had yet to step through it.

  Jema talked even more now, her eyes closed tight to concentrate on the words instead of what was happening; she talked about the battles she had fought with her mother, her teachers, and anybody else with the power to change things. She’d measured her respect for people by their willingness to stand up for what they believed in. For their right to be in that position. Most, like her mother, had deserted her in favour of adopting the beliefs of the system. She’d turned to Kaspi, making sure her mother noticed it too, the way she would have turned from Benjamar had he not accepted the challenge.

  “So are you afraid that Benjamar won’t respect you?”

  Jema opened her eyes then. “What if I can’t do it tomorrow? What if he asks for what I just can’t do?”

  Nini couldn’t answer that; Jema had struggled today. She took off her own dress and leaned down; no resistance, no response. It didn’t matter. A bit of warmth was here now. “How come you never challenged me, Jema? You trust me but you never asked me to prove myself.”

  Jema relaxed a little. She’d never needed to, she said. Nini had taken on the whole DJar penal system and come out alive. After all that suffering she’d come to Kun DJar to help people. “You’re a natural healer, Nini. You connect to nature and you radiate an energy that comes from beyond. You will one day be to us what Mektar was to you. This place needs you. If anything I don’t deserve you as a friend.”

  This was a really strange situation to be saying that in. “Don’t insult my choice of friends if you think that way about me.” She let herself slide next to Jema to free up her hand in the safety of the darkness. Jema had just given
her something very precious: to be a healer like Mektar.

  “I can’t be like you, Nini. I have trouble loving people. I want to do anything I can to be there for you, always, but will you help me when I get scared?”

  “Like now?” Nini very gently slipped her fingers in. “You know I will.”

  Now she needed to talk. Just words, sounds, to help take the tension. No questions, no pressure. So she told Jema how long she’d waited for this. All those stations they’d lived together, just wanting to be close. Jema gave a bit, a few embers. One day the fire that raged in her words might be able to show up here too. For now the little glow was comforting.

  Startled by a crash, Nini sat up. Loud whispers and laughter brought the tension back. Yako and Marya didn’t notice them until they were right near the mat. “Sorry, we were just looking for a quiet place.”

  “You’re the ones making the noise,” Nini told them.

  Marya started picking her clothes up from the floor. “We can leave.”

  “You don’t have to leave for us. You’re not normally so shy.”

  Yako laughed and dragged Marya to the other side of the shelter. Nini turned back to Jema. “Now you don’t have to worry at all anymore. Those two make enough noise to keep anybody from coming near.”

  It worked. Very slowly the embers lit up in their pocket of silence against the background music coming from Marya and Yako’s mat. Nini felt the drops fall from her eyes. Kun DJar could give them all what had never been, if they would only let it. Only let SJari live.

  KUN DJAR RESTS

  2/5/5/8/1

  During the night Nini woke up suddenly from a familiar dream. For a moment she just sat there. This dream had returned to her on occasion for as long as she could remember: A plain with a backdrop of vegetation; big dark blue mushrooms against a dark red sky, and an old woman with plants, whom she knew to be a healer. This time there had been another woman, young and beautiful: the veiled woman who’d helped her during the epidemic and with Kunag. In the dream this woman had scooped a bubble of cells from the sea and handed it to Nini. From this a child had formed; the child who would one day be the old healer. This young woman was someone Nini had never before been able to put a name to.