The Jetah would then employ the least successful team of nonprofessional kovah players it could find and set this team against its students. Without fail Zineru’s students would be annihilated, and the Jetah would tell its battered theorists the lesson: "The learned student has much to contribute to the game. However, the hard truths, the ones that cannot be manipulated, will be told to us by the players. The players have seen and felt the metal; the students have only theorized about it."
Zineru’s truths.
The work of the Talman masters has much to contribute to the peace of Amadeen, but the hard truths, the ones that cannot be manipulated, will be supplied by the Mavedah killer, Yazi Ro. The masters have only theorized about war. Yazi Ro has walked in the blood.
I think of the offer made by the captain of the Tora Seam. My account has enough to get me back to Draco and from there it is only a matter of waiting for the ship. It would be work. Could I stand circling around Amadeen, though, while the ship is at the orbiter? Could I stand it if in my head there is the slightest doubt about the futility of the peace talma? Could I do that knowing in the dust and blood of Amadeen there is a child looking up at my reflection, cursing me for not taking the chance to end the horror?
I get up from the couch and walk to the transparent wall of the room that looks out upon Friendship’s night. There are shielded lights below me, illuminating the house with a faint golden glow. Beyond the lights the wind-torn landscape is dark, the silhouette of the point standing out indistinctly against the whiteness of the ocean’s foam.
I wonder what would happen if the pieces of a picture puzzle found out that the picture they are supposed to make is different than the one they intended to bring into being. Would the pieces go ahead and make the new picture, not knowing for certain how it will look, or would they rebel and make no picture at all?
I decide to talk to this puzzle’s other piece in the cave. I go down to the main hall and find that the others have retired. A servant, Mizy Untav, helps me on with my coat and boots. It insists, as well, that I wear eye and face coverings to protect me from the increasing winds. Once I agree, it asks "Will you be wanting a guide, Yazi Ro?"
"No. I know the way."
"A hand light, perhaps? The footing in the dark can be treacherous."
I nod. "A light would be sensible. Thank you."
With the light attached to the back of my left glove, my hood up and my coat sealed, I step out into the night winds of Fyrine IV. As I lean against the wind and begin my trek toward the cave, I realize that the retainer who clothed me with such concern about my welfare is the child of Mizy Kinasu, the student of Davidge’s the others mentioned who traveled across the quadrant to become a monk in a strange, demanding religion on a strange and frightening planet: Earth.
FIFTEEN
Davidge sits at the fire, staring into the flames, the manuscript in his lap. I turn off the glove light, remove my coat and face protector, throw them over an empty chair, and sit in another, wondering why Davidge wasn’t at the repast as part of Estone Falna’s homecoming. As the flames warm me, I again look at the interior of the cave. On one of the beds of branches, Haesni is sound asleep, a leather quilt pulled over it.
I think of the Koda Nusinda and wonder where in the manuscript Davidge is. One part that gave me pause was the lesson of the repast. As the actors played their parts, the blind human Nicole, not knowing they were actors, was having presented to her the problem of Amadeen. The Mavedah’s goal was the death or removal of all humans on Amadeen. The Front’s goal was the death or removal of all Dracs on Amadeen. The Dracon Chamber’s commitment to the Mavedah and the United States of Earth’s commitment to the Front, and the mutually exclusive goals of the Front and the Mavedah, made the workings of talma impossible. Nicole ended the big war by severing the larger powers' commitments to the warring factions on Amadeen.
The core of the problem, though, still remains, although the removal of the opposing side by something other than death must have fallen in priority. The Mavedah’s goal now is the death of all humans. The Front’s goal is the death of all Dracs. Where is there room for talma? Every time the Front and the Mavedah form a truce in an attempt to settle things through negotiations, an unruly faction from one side or the other always demolishes the truce by performing an atrocity on the other side. How can the Mavedah punish one of its own groups for killing humans, after all that the Front has done to them? Of course, how can the Front punish one of its own groups for killing Dracs, after all that the Mavedah has done to them?
"Yazi Ro," Davidge says, "have you read this?" He holds up the manuscript.
I pull my mind back from the past and look at him. The human’s gaze is on my face. "Yes. I read it on the voyage here."
"Were you supposed to read it?"
Again the shrug. "I do not know."
He looks at the manuscript and raises his eyebrows. "What if you reading this screws up the talma?"
I settle back in the chair, stretch my legs out toward the fire, and clasp my hands over my middle. At that point I answer. "Then the talma is screwed up. On the other side, though, what if my not reading it would mangle the path? What if my reading it or not reading it makes no difference at all?"
Davidge smiles and says in formal Dracon, "Aakva, why do you play with your creatures so?" He looks at me, sees my expression, and says, "From The Story of Uhe. The Koda Ovida?" He looks at me as though I have three heads. In English he asks, "Yazi Ro, is it possible that you do not know your Talman?"
My Amadeen English responds. "It is not only possible, Uncle Willy, you can bet your wrinkled old ass on it."
An unusual squeaking comes from the back of the chamber and Davidge turns from me and looks toward the child’s supposedly sleeping form. "If you are finished sleeping, Haesni, there is some sewing you can do."
"Oh, I’m sleeping, Uncle," gasps Ty’s child. "I am sleeping. I think I’m just having a bad dream." This last followed by more poorly stifled squeaking. At last, unable to contain itself any longer, Haesni laughs out loud, throws its covers aside, and runs into one of the back chambers. Davidge smiles and closes the manuscript.
My elbows on the chair’s armrests, I cover my eyes as I feel an edge of shame. It is not my mission in life to humiliate this teacher in the eyes of his student, even if the teacher is a human. When the echoes of Haesni’s laughter die, I say to the human, "I apologize, Davidge, for referring to you as Uncle Willy. Once we settle this matter," I gesture toward the manuscript in his lap, "I will be gone. It is not your fault I am here now and there is no point in seeing how much more difficult I can make things before I leave."
The human nods and looks down at the manuscript. "I wouldn’t make any plans on leaving soon, Ro. The Ovjetah is smarter than anyone I know. If Jeriba Shigan thinks there’s a good chance of achieving peace on Amadeen, I’ll give it a look. So, we’ll do what we need to do together until we both agree that the job is hopeless. Okay?"
"I agree."
"Good." The human stands, places his hands at the small of his back, and stretches. Finished, he looks at me. "Confidences are sacred, Yazi Ro. What you tell me in confidence I will never repeat without your permission. What I tell you in confidence you will never repeat without my permission. Agreed?"