Dante's Equation Part 44

-Muhammad,the Koran, seventh century

18.1. Sixty-Forty Denton Wyle

Sitting on the riverbank under that purple-red twilight sky, Eyanna was so beautiful and so fierce she looked like a G.o.ddess, something beyond human, beyond Sapphian, beyond the laws of s.p.a.ce and time. Denton just sat there more or less drooling at her, hoping that she had a better opinion of him than he had of himself at the moment and figuring that she must like him a lot to have braved theskalkits on his behalf.

She brought something out of a pouch she wore under her skirt. It was that photograph again. She did not try to foist it on him this time but sat with her long legs propped up, the picture between them. She spoke slowly, as if she had not spoken much in a very long time.

"I had a man also."

"What do you mean?"

"My man. He wanted only me and I wanted only him. The people didn't understand that. They didn't understand why we would not go with others. That is why they sent us to theskalkits ."

Denton didn't know what to say. He wasn't big on monogamy himself, but it was hardly a reason to condemn two lovers to death, especially when one of them was as beautiful as Eyanna. Then again, maybe that was the point. Her monogamy must have really p.i.s.sed the Sapphians off.

"I'm sorry the people did that to you, Eyanna."

"I helped you for her." Eyanna handed him the photograph.

"Oh."

If it was possible, Denton felt even smaller. There was no point in disabusing her of the notion that the woman in the photo was his great love or that by saving him she had done this woman a favor. And then he thought about how weird life was. He'd given her that photograph thoughtlessly, on a whim. And if he hadn't, he would just have died a horrible, gruesome death.

He put the photograph back in his wallet. His hands were shaking so hard he could barely accomplish it.

"How can they do it, Eyanna? How can your people send their own to theskalkits like that?"

She studied the water, her face subdued. "Everyone agrees because the person being sent away is not them."

"But itcould be them!" "No one thinks it will be them.""Yeah, but someday it will be them." Eyanna made a gesture of indifference. "No one thinks about this." Denton thought that was inane. Then he thought about how polite and friendly and helpful everyone was-not just to him but to one another, too. What hypocrites! It was all such a lie! But it wasn't a lie, he realized. It was aclue -or it would have been if he'd been paying attention.

No one could be that nice all the time, not unless the alternative was pretty severe. For the Sapphians, it was. "Do they choose the old and sick mostly, or . . . ?" Eyanna made the gesture for "maybe." "Yes, this is the way. But also, females have many children.

It is known that some of them will go. Mothers choose the ones who will go. Children who are

chosen like this are sent as soon as they are grown." Denton gaped at her, shocked. They bred children for theskalkits ? Poor John, with his deformed hand. He never had a chance.

"That is terrible! Do they not understand what it's like to die this way?" Eyanna didn't answer, but Denton knew. The Sapphians didn'twant to understand. Eyanna wrapped her long arms around her long legs, huddling. "If we do not feed theskalkits they come into the gorge looking for the meat. That is worse."

He could picture it. Oh, yeah. Sitting around the communal circle and hearing them coming through

the trees, people running and screaming, being chased through the jungle,skalkits tearing through huts, ripping up pathways. . . . He looked around uneasily. They were sitting on a riverbank.Skalkits might come here to drink.

Might? Probably. They probably came here to drink. And the swimming option seemed less rea.s.suring than it had a little while ago. "We will walk," he said, getting to his feet. He pointed toward the mountains. "That way."

She stood up, but her face was troubled. She looked back over her shoulder, toward the gorge. "Eyanna, we can't live in the gorge. Your people will catch us and they will send us to theskalkitsagain. I can't hide in trees like you."

"Ta zhecta,"she said, backing away.Good-bye."Eyanna,no ." She was going to leave him, and then he would be completely alone. It was one thing to find himself outside the gorge with gorgeous, natively savvy Eyanna at his side. It was another to be a defenseless foreigner on his lonesome, with long cold nights andskalkits lurking. "If you go back to the gorge they will catch you, Eyanna, and they will send you to theskalkits , and you will not get free again. If you come with me, I will find a place that is safe. I promise."

Eyanna knew what he was saying was true, he could see it in her eyes, but she made the gesture for "no." "I cannot leave the gorge."

"Youcan . I know you are all afraid of-"

"My children are there."

She said it in a quiet, doomed way, and he knew in an instant that, of course, that's exactly what it was. He'd thought Eyanna hung around the village out of some Sapphian fear of the unknown or maybe a desperate need to be near her kind. But now he remembered that the times he had seen her had been in the mornings, when the women and children were in the circle alone. And she had watched from trees with such an intent, longing expression not because she wanted to be part of the group-she was watchingher children .

c.r.a.p. That really sucked. He even knew which ones they were. There were two young girls with hair white-gold like Eyanna's-pretty, shy little things. He whined in frustration, rubbed his eyes. Why did she care anyway? It sounded like Sapphian mothers weren't exactly swelling with maternal instinct as a rule.

Like, for example,his mother, who would not only s.h.i.+p him off to theskalkits to save her own neck but probably send along his dog and gerbil, too.

No, Eyanna had to be different.He had to be stuck with the one Sapphian who was a saint.

"Your children are safe in the village until they are full-grown. You said this."

"Yes."

"So they do not need you now. And if you are there, the people will always remember they are your children and maybe they will send them to theskalkits . But if you are not there, Eyanna, if you are not there the people may forget they are yours."

She looked stricken by this logic. He almost felt ashamed for manipulating her, but hey, it was for her own good. She couldn't go on living the way she had been before, and he certainly couldn't.

"Your children are safe in the village. And outside the village," he waved his hand at the surrounding area, "there areskalkits . You cannot take them outside. You cannot help them, Eyanna."

Tears filled her eyes. Her golden shoulders heaved.

"And you can always come back," he reminded her. "Anytime."

Following the riverbank with Eyanna was an exercise in frustration and fear that could have been designed to train Special Ops agents for enemy territory. The ground was uneven and the days, and the walking, were endless. Unlike those first few days on this world, Denton nowknew what lurked in those trees. He was constantly tense and his eyes grew tired from watching the jungle with every step. Then there was the constant rein he had to keep on Eyanna, who looked more and more reluctant with every mile. Most of the time, she looked like a cat being dragged out for a walk in the rain. He had to keep up a constant barrage of chatter to keep her going.

Only one thing kepthim going: Eyanna's body gracefully moving ahead of him. And that was its own form of torture.d.a.m.n. Skalkits or noskalkits , he hadn't been this rabidly h.o.r.n.y since he was fifteen. It had to be something in the air. That or Eyanna. "How much further do we go?" she asked one night at their campfire.

"I don't know. Not far." He said "not far" because that's what she wanted to hear, but the truth was, he had no idea. He was looking for something-a cave, a ravine, anything that looked like it might be safe.

"How did you get away from theskalkits , Eyanna? The first time when your people sent you there." She had been eating a large piece of fruit, but at his question she lost her appet.i.te and put it aside.

"My man hid a knife and cut himself free. Then he cut me free also." She played with her toes in thedirt, her face close. "What . . . What happened to your man?" "Theskalkit got him when we ran." "I'm sorry."She looked up at him with surprise, as if she did not know what to make of his sympathy. "Do you not . . ." He felt kind of like a heel for saying it, but he could not go on like this forever.

"Do you not miss having a man?"

She stood up to tend the fire. He was starting to recognize her body language. Whenever she tried to

avoid a conversation by working, it meant she disagreed or didn't want to talk about it. He supposed Sapphians learned at a young age not to argue. "Eyanna . . ." he pressed gently. "It is not good for a woman to be without a man." She poked at the branches. "When my man was taken, I promised there would never be another." Great. That was annoying. It was also plain stupid, especially for a Sapphian. As far as he had seen, they were all complete s.l.u.ts and had s.e.x about as often as they ate. Besides, Eyanna being celibate

was like the biggest, most perfectly shaped Christmas tree in the lot going unsold. What a waste. "Your man is gone, Eyanna. That will not help him. And being without a man is not good for you, sweetie."

She looked directly into his eyes through the fire, her hair flickering gold. "I can see you want a woman. But I will never be with you, Denton. Never." "Oh. Okay." Denton took a bite of fruit. It tasted very sour.

The next day, when it was time to stop for the night, he said, "We should make a small fire. I think the big fires may attract theskalkits ."

So they made a fire with a handful of twigs. He tried to gauge it right because he really didn't want to completely freeze his b.a.l.l.s off. When they lay down to sleep, it was just right-cold but not chattering-teeth cold.

He pretended to try to sleep, then sat up, rubbing his arms. "Eyanna, come over here. If we sleep close to each other it will be warmer."

She hesitated, looking at the pitiful fire as if wis.h.i.+ng it would magically grow. But she was cold, too. After a minute she came over. He let her lie closest to the fire and spooned up next to her.

She was stiff, on her guard, but he did nothing further, just lay behind her. After a long time, she slept. He could hear her breathing deepen.

Denton had lain awake for hours the previous night, h.o.r.n.y and sullen, and had come up with this plan. But he had only planned this far. He was pleased that he had pulled it off, that she had fallen for the "big fires may attract theskalkits " line. But now that he was lying here, pressed against her in the dark, he realized that he should have thought it through a little more carefully. Had he imagined that just the power of being next to him would change her mind? That she would get all s.e.xy in her sleep and turn around and grab him? It wasn't happening.

He could set this up as a routine. They could do this every night and maybe, eventually . . .

But Denton knew it was not going to happen that way. Because it wasthis night, and Denton was already out of patience. He was patience-free. He was also ripe. He had put up with too much c.r.a.p in the past few days, needed to win too badly. And her tender bottom was pressed against him and he wasright there and it was so selfish of her to deny him. After all, wasn't he taking care of her? Wasn't he offering her a life better than the one she'd lived as an outcast in the gorge? Didn't she owe him? And what, really, did it cost her to be nice to him? The other Sapphians, all thoseallook saheed groupies, had never given it a second thought. Why wa.s.sheso freaking stingy?

He lay there awake for a long time, all night in fact, thinking up these and plenty of other excuses. He didn't really think he woulddoanything. He was only playing games with himself, making himself miserable. But it was like those days in Zurich when he had debated whether to buy the ma.n.u.script. Deep down, in perhaps the only place where Denton was ever really honest with himself, he knew how this night would end, how it was destined to end from the time he'd suggested they make a small fire and she'd agreed.

And so it did. Before dawn he cautiously moved her little skirt aside. Then he rolled on top of her, pinning her down, and he took her.

It felt amazing. It should have felt amazing. But even though he closed his eyes and pretended hard, he was still aware of her struggles. And even though he tried to move in a way that would give her pleasure, even though he'd talked himself into believing she would get into it once he'd started, his movements felt false. She didn't get into it. And when he finished there was a heavy, polluted feeling accompanying the gratification.

He rolled off her. "Wow. I think . . . I was dreaming, Eyanna. I had a dream that we . . . I'm sorry."

She got up and moved away a few feet down the bank and sat, staring at the water. Her chin trembled.

"I was dreaming," he said again. "Wow, that was weird."

Still nothing. He lay back down, looking up at the sky. A fluorescent pink sat at the crack of the horizon, like a box lid being opened on endless treasures. This world was so freaking beautiful that it made him cry sometimes. And right now, he hated it to death.

"Eyanna, I'm sorry. You are so beautiful, and I want you so much. There is only you and I now. We have to help each other."

She stood up and slipped off into the water to wash, leaving him alone with his conscience.

18.2. Forty-Sixty Calder Farris

Gyde was having a conversation with someone at the top of the stairs outside their office. It was the Bronze from Saradena, the one who'd been talking about the dead Silver case in the cafeteria.

Pol froze, his hand on the rail at the bottom of the stairs. There was a second when he might have spun around and walked the other way, fled the Department of Monitors and Centalia, and never returned. But Gyde saw him and smiled and Pol's hand went round around the banister and pulled himself upward because it was the most logical thing to do.

"We have an appointment this morning," Gyde said pleasantly.

"What appointment?"

"A banned book expert. A Gold. He's a collector."

"A collector of banned books?"

"He's aGold . He can do what he likes."

"Where did you find him?"

"I have my ways, cla.s.smate." Gyde winked.

They drove across town to one of the great old imperial buildings. The Gold had a luxury suite overlooking Gorenten Square, including a balcony with primo seats for state parades. In the elevator Gyde asked, "Have you ever been in the home of a Gold before? No? It's quite a lifestyle. But they're very private, so don't ask a lot of questions."

Don't ask a lot of questions. Pol almost laughed.

It turned out the Gold was an expert in rare books, not banned. And he was not old-perhaps thirty-five. Pol was surprised. All the Golds he'd seen on posters or heard on the radio were old, the councilmen of state, distinguished white-hairs. But of course, there had to be younger Golds as well, didn't there? They didn't reproduce much, the Golds. "To set an example for the lower cla.s.ses" was the official line. "Because there's only so much room at the top" was no doubt closer to the truth. This Gold's penthouse was the most subtly lavish display of money Pol had ever seen-carpeting like an elaborate mosaic and furniture that was heavy and weighted and black.

And hiswife. . . The Gold female floated through the room as though her body were made of the same insubstantial stuff as her gown. Her light blue eyes were rimmed with a darker shade that matched her temples, and her white-blond hair was coiled and stiffened into an elaborate headdress. Silver females were trained for combat. This female was different-delicate and soft, rare as an orchid. She appeared briefly to welcome them, then disappeared again like a dream. The book expert himself was not attractive. He had the requisite signs of cla.s.s-blond hair and rich blue temples- but on a short and fleshy frame. He had bulging eyes.

"How can I serve the state?" Chancellor Tyches asked as they settled down in his library.

Gyde's face was grave with concern. "Have you heard about the state terrorist who's been writing messages on public buildings?"

"I've heard it mentioned." Tyches settled back into his chair. He withdrew a Balsala smoke from a box on his desk and offered them each one. The expensive smoke tasted wonderful.

"His last was a pamphlet." Gyde handed Chancellor Tyches a copy. "There are some curious ideas in it. I was hoping you might recognize his source." "Ah!" Chancellor Tyches sank back with an expression of complacent arrogance. He scanned the pages. "Mad."

Pol leaned forward. "Do you really think so?"

"Oh, yes."

"Why?"

"I think what we want to know," Gyde interrupted smoothly, "is if you recognize any of the ideas in

the pamphlet. I thought he might have gotten them from a banned book." "What things in particular?" "I apologize; I'm being unclear. What I find odd is this reference to there being 'aliens' from other planets.""Um. I see. Yes, that is an odd idea. You know, I really admire the Silver cla.s.s. Truly, I do." "Thank you, Chancellor." "What a tremendous service you do for the state. I admire your . . . sense of glory. It's very das.h.i.+ng.