The Magister (Earthkeep) (31 page)

After the discharge of the Femmedarmes, and the final singing of the Femmedarme anthem, each of the Magisters formally held up an earthen jar filled with sand and painted the color of the Femmedarmery, the Vigilancia or the Amahrery.  One by one, each turned her vessel upside down and stood silent while the sand drained completely from it.

Yotoma held up her green jar.  "Form, empty of members," she intoned, "Femmedarmery, you are no more."  She raised a regulation Kanshou baton and smashed the jar to bits.

"Amahrery, you are no more."  Lin-ci smashed the red jar.

"Vigilancia, you are no more," said Zude, and smashed the blue jar.

Yotoma held up a fourth jar of red, blue and green.  "Form, empty of members," she said again, "Kanshoubu, you are no more."  Simultaneously, Lin-ci and Zude struck and shattered the jar.

"Steward Lin-ci Win," said Yotoma, flipping the edges of Lin-ci's Magister cloak to off-duty position, "you are Magister no more."

"Steward Zella Terremoto Adverb," said Lin-ci, turning Zude's cloak in the same manner, "you are Magister no more."

"Steward Flossie Yotoma Lutu," said Zude, folding back Flossie's cloak, "you are Magister no more."

The Kanshou anthem filled the air.

That evening, after the flag of the Femmedarmery was lowered, the flag of the Kanshoubu followed it down.  The bugler played taps for the last time.

Present at each of the three disbanding ceremonies was an odd couple: two women, whose flying spoon landed at dawn on the first day and departed after dusk on the second.  One of the women was tall and middle-aged, with shoulder-length brown hair and a unicorn earring; she was dressed in soft pants and a lightweight shirt.  The other was equally as tall, of undetermined age, and possessed of only two upper and cuspid teeth; she wore her long gray hair in ringlets, which bobbed boisterously beneath the wide-brimmed sun hat that was tied in a large bow under her chin; she was clad in white organdy, an ante-bellum gown with hoops and a bodice that revealed scrawny shoulders but no cleavage whatsoever.

The younger woman clearly appreciated every aspect of the ceremonies.  The older one seemed to listen more carefully, smile more readily, sing more lustily, cry harder and dance with more abandon than any other attendee. 

They had come because they liked to think that, after all, they might have played some small part in the drama unfolding before them.

III. Shifting Citizens

Of all the changes, even the violent ones, that began at once to take place on Little Blue after the Heart's decision, the one most keenly and universally felt was the sense of speed with which life seemed suddenly to be happening.  Daily chores and interactions became almost breathless, and even traditionally molasses-bound bureaucracies began to move with purpose and dispatch.

Little Blue's governmental and social agencies endured their expected struggles, but on the whole they found themselves taking unusual risks and challenging orthodoxy at every turn.  For example, all nine Sifters at the Kitchen Table and all fifteen Websters in the Central Web immediately ratified the Heart's Desire; moreover, in the spirit of the Kanshoubu's example, each of those bodies entertained a proposal to abolish itself, thus setting in motion the processes that would leave Little Blue's global infrastructures not only without law enforcement or interpretation of the law, but without law itself.  The Global Energy Commission formed the Task Force On Personal Desire And Thought Focus.  In some demesnes, optimism about the future restoration of both children and animals swelled to new heights: Home transmogrifiers were called upon to produce toys and children's clothing again, and amidst a flurry of controversy and speculation some food processing plants began creating a limited line of vegetarian meals for cats, bird and small fish.

The global interconnections of commerce, transportation and communication sustained Little Blue as an integrated world, but in truth, daily life became increasingly local and autonomous.  Small villages of fewer than 500 inhabitants became the norm; dwellers in large cities tended to coalesce into distinct neighborhoods of about that same size.

As the occurrence of extraordinary events increased worldwide,
miraculous
became a useless word.  Any randomly chosen day was rich with new experiences.  For example, on July 18, 2088,  Manuela Osias discovered that she could carry out her plant-wide duty as materials regulator for a zinc alloy company in Manila by commanding her computer with neither voice nor touch but entirely with her mind.  On that same day, near Idfu on the Nile, the colossal stones of a newly discovered pyramid were faultlessly dismantled and reassembled on safer ground by a sister-brother team of telekinetic engineers.  Four women flew alone for the first time without the companionship of a spooning partner.  A man and a woman flew in spoon together from Sicily to the Balkans, and two men accomplished that same feat from Timor to Australia's Melville Island.  Inch-wide striations of pure gold appeared in the granite of a Quaker Meeting House in Manchester, England.  When an angry Lua Phra Meo of Thon Buri picked up a fist-sized rock to throw at Pa Nong Samut, Samut disappeared.  And, still on that same day, a companion section to Egypt's Rosetta Stone was washed up on an Amazon levee; along with its original hieroglyphics and its demotic and Greek characters, this basalt stone included a new undecipherable language that remotely resembled electronic computer code; its final line included a single pictograph that could only be described as an opened cage.

12 - TUTEA - [2088 C.E.]

Praise me with rainbows, sing to me in savors,

touch and move me with your Presence,

and I will know your mind

by all its scented whispers.

Song Of The Lumari

Steward Zella Terremoto Adverb and her Swallower companion had been living for a week in a barren rockface cave.  Here in her Andean sanctuary high above the jungles of Peru, Zude could see, hundreds of miles to the east, what she believed to be the joining of the mighty rivers Marañón and Ucayali.

The bailiwicks were closed, the habitantes free, the Kanshoubu dismantled.  In the months since the Heart's decision, Zude had lived almost constantly in a state of exhilaration.  She awoke every morning to a world vastly changed from the day before.  She entered her dreams each night, as did most citizens, with prayers for the return of the animals and the birth, again, of children.  Waking or dreaming, Zude breathed in and out her profound knowledge that all was indeed well.

Asleep on the wide ledge at the door of her cave, Zude was traveling inner roads with her Swallower.  She was warm within her body-bubble and further protected from the cold by her tekla Magister cloak.  Three Indios, two women and a man, sat beside her pallet.  They wore ruanas, hard-worn straw hats, gloves and heavy foot-wrappings.  Their singing was reminiscent of the Song of the Lumari.

The taller woman removed one glove and laid her bare hand on Zude's head.  A corridor opened, and Zude was filled with a flow of information and wisdom, not one bit of which she could remember upon awakening.  Instead, she awoke alone, enveloped by a myriad of intriguing images and haunted by the feeling that she had traveled for years in the space of one short dawn.  Puzzled and beguiled, she nevertheless gave thanks to the dream for its mystery and its still-pervading sense of well-being.  She leaned against the face of her mountain and watched the sun, that star of life, as it mounted the low horizon.

Minutes later she rose and stretched.  As her fingers encircled her comunit for her daily check-in with the Stewardry, she was startled by an object on the floor of her cave, just by its door.  Lying there, still curved with the form of the hand it had covered, was a gray glove.  Zude knelt to pick it up, rubbing it gently against itself.  Tekla.  No doubt about it.  The precious stuff of her cape and her cowl.  Tekla.

She scanned the mountain's rockface, then searched the canopy of the jungle below her.  She flashed her lumestick within the cave itself.  She came back to her ledge and searched the sky.  With a slow smile, she folded the worn glove into a small flatness and tucked it into her belt. 

Later that day, she shouldered her pack and left her bleak aerie, picking her way cautiously down the rough rocks of the mountain.  When, much later, she reached flatter terrain, she stretched her legs into long strides, heading for one of the upland basins and the timberline below it.  Just before noon, she perched on a ruin at the edge of a grassy plateau and watched the back-sensed presence of a busy Inca village six centuries gone.  Hundreds of gold- and silver-bedecked craftspeople executed their everyday tasks around these walls, over this gray dirt.

When she hoisted her pack again, preparing to set out, Zude suddenly froze.  A presence encompassed her that was without any reference in her experience.  She sank to the ground, fighting off a mild dizziness.  She felt herself being slowly embraced by swirls of warm, appreciative, chocolate air.  Its strongest emanation came from behind her.

Balancing on one knee, she made herself turn in a smooth motion until she faced the serene torrents of attention.  "Mother's Magic!" she whispered.

The vicuña stood there in broad daylight, less than the length of two bodies from her, the light chestnut of its flat dorsal wool barely a contrast to the reddish-yellow shag of its chest and underparts.  Its total height, long graceful neck and all, was close to Zude’s, and its weight a little less than Zude's own.  It was looking at her.

Zude dared not move.  Frantically, she searched for behavior appropriate to the meeting of a being the likes of which had not been seen on the planet for nearly three-quarters of a century.  She swallowed.  And smiled.  Very tentatively, she tried out her new art of mindreaching. 

"You're beautiful," she sent.

The animal's head shot upward, its body becoming rigid.

"Wait!" sent Zude, "don't go away!  Please, please don't go away!"

The vicuña started, as if to run.

Hastily, Zude stilled her anxiety and made herself feel only calm.  And admiration.

The vicuña eased.

Mindreaching was apparently an intrusion.  Zude concentrated on simply appreciating the furred being before her.  She paid close attention to its big unblinking eyes, praising them; she took in the detail of the thin pointed ears, cherishing them; she adored the dark brown nose.  She did not let words in, but filled herself with warmth and gratitude.

The vicuña turned toward her. 

Zude's heart beat faster.  She focused on staying completely still, feeling nothing but her admiration, her affection.  It's a mirage! she thought, and in that instant, the animal froze. 

Zude tensed.

The vicuña stepped back.

Zude reimmersed herself in wonder and fondness.

The vicuña eased again and swung its head in agreeable arcs.  Carefully, it took several long steps toward Zude, its big eyes looking down at her. 

Zude looked only at the shaggy fur, imagining its texture, almost reaching out her hands to touch it.  The brown head was near, close above her and bending lower.  Zude closed her eyes.

Hot, cordial breath grazed her ear.  A nose, cold and damp, nuzzled her chin.  Hesitantly, Zude nuzzled back, her lips on that strange cheek suddenly lost in the gentlest home they had ever sought.  She shifted her weight to both knees and steadied her hands.  Carefully and incredulously she placed them on the length of the neck, and felt there. . .yes! the unmistakable pulse of solid, warm, vibrant life! 

Zude pressed her lips between her teeth, feeling a low moan climb to her throat.  When she gave her cry its freedom, she sobbed aloud, releasing into the thick fur a burst of emptiness, hunger and disbelief. 

"You're here!" she announced in a hoarse whisper. 

When the vicuña did not move, Zude flung her arms over the sturdy back, around the big chest, pummeling, hugging, kneading, scratching.  The animal endured it all with calm patience.  It collapsed its callused knees into a camel-like resting posture so that Zude could press every possible part of her body against its every possible part.

Moments later, Zude lay watching the vicuña.  Its long eyelashes rarely blinked, but its jaws worked in a rhythmical chewing of a clump of grass; occasionally its short tail jerked back and forth.  Zude could smell the animal's fetid breath, and with her every stroke of its broad shoulder she raised from its fur the taste of dust.  She blessed it all.

How do I reach it, Swallower?  Thoughts seem to drive it away!

"Enworded thoughts, yes," replied her guide.  "Relax."

Lazily, Zude began good-natured attempts at a nonverbal connection.  Feeling her way into the vicuña's body, she tried seeing through the vicuña's eyes, experiencing the world from its point of view.  The animal did not respond.  Changing tactics, Zude drew a picture in her mind of ways the two of them might interact, charging it with intense desire and the conviction that the vicuña would surely understand her.  Nothing.  Then she tried opening her own mind to the animal, inviting it to come into her head, to exchange pictures with her, even to trade minds with her.  To no avail.  The vicuña responded only to Zude's physical attentions and, it seemed, to her feelings of pleasure or praise. 

Zude sighed.  She had just resigned herself to a simple gratitude for the pleasure of the vicuña's company when she noticed the bright pink midday sky above them.  She blinked.  And the sky was its normal pale blue again.  No, wait! Pink.  Zude raised herself on one elbow.  Crazy.  It seemed pink, but. . .ah, there!  Blue.  She started to lie down again but felt her vision faltering in a peculiar way. Everything was in motion: The low wall of the ruin moved back and forth, the scrub brush beyond the wall moved side to side, the far horizon beyond the plateau moved up and down.  Zude shook her head.  Things stabilized.  And then began moving again.

Zude sat up straight, willing the scene back to normal.  Instantly she was blasted with a cold wind.  She stiffened and looked up to confirm that the sun still shone brightly.  It did, but in a pink sky, and over a plateau that swam in a jumble of movements.  Fear touched her bones.  And now the pebbles under her swayed in a tantalizing syncopation against her buttocks.  The fear became pleasure.