"The dynasty of Summa Summamentis and that of Ezso Aethefium have fought forever," he said. "The reason is deeply obscure."
"Somebody must know."
"None of these," Fee said, "that's certain." "Then why do they continue to fight?" Joe said.
Wexel shrugged. "For the pleasure of it?" he ventured. "There are as many dreams of war as of peace, are there not? It expresses something in the nature of your species that must be necessary."
"Necessary.. " Joe said, looking at the bloodshed in front of him. If it was indeed an expression of human necessity then perhaps his species had lost its way.
"I don't want to watch this any longer," Joe said. "I'm going back to the pool."
"Yeah-?"
"You stay, if it turns you on... I just don't want to spend my last minutes watching people killing each other."
"I will stay," Wexel said, a little awkwardly.
"Then I'll say goodbye," Joe said.
The sometime slave extended his hand. "Goodbye," he said.
they shook, and Joe headed back towards the bridge, but he'd gone less than ten yards when he heard a cry behind him, and turned to see Wexel stumbling towards him, clutching his belly. There was blood spurting between his fingers, splashing down his legs.
"Afrique!" he sobbed. "Afrique! He's here-"
Joe started back towards him, but the man shouted for him to keep his distance.
"He's crazy, Afrique! He's@'
At that moment, Noah appeared round the corner behind Fee. In his hands, a stabbing sword, soiled with blood. In his eyes, the pleasure of harm. His time in b'Kether Sabbat had brought him to full flower: his body had thickened, his limbs swelled.
"Joe... " he said lightly, as though the dying man did not stand between them. "I thought it must be you." He caught hold of Wexel by the back of his neck. "What were you doing with this?" he said. "He's probably got more fleas and sicknesses-"
"Leave him alone," Joe said.
"Run, Afrique@'
"I think he's afraid I'm going to do you some harm," Noah said.
"And are you?"
"He calls you Af7ique, Joe. Is that some term of endearment?"
"No, it's@'
"An insult, then?" He pulled Wexel's head back. "I thought so." In an instant he had the blade to Fee's neck. Joe started towards them, an appeal on his lips, but before he could finish Noah slid the sword across Wexel's neck. Blood came. Noah smiled, and let the dying man drop. "There," he said. "He won't insult you any longer."
"He wasn't insulting me!" Joe yelled.
"Oh. Well. No matter. Should I be calling you Afrique?"
"Don't call me anything! Just get the fuck out of my sight."
Noah stepped over Wexel's body and strode towards Joe. "But I want us to go on together," he said.
"Go on where?"
"to get what's owed to you," Noah said. "When I saw you across the plaza, I knew that was why you'd come. We have unfinished business, you and me. I promised you power, and then I lost you-I thought you were dead, Afrique-and now here you are again, in the flesh. I must assume our destinies are interwoven."
"I don't."
Noah strode towards him, until the blade was inches from Joc's belly.
"Allow me to prove it to you," he said.
"Isn't it a little late for this?" Joe said.
"Late?"
"The lad's going to come down on this city any moment."
"I think something's holding it back," Noah said. "Do you know what?"
"I have a suspicion," he said. "But I'll need you to help me confirm it." He studied Joe a moment. "Well?" he said. "Do we go as friends, or do I threaten you with this?" He jabbed the sword at Joe. "We're never going to be friends," Joe said. "But I don't need that either." Noah lowered his sword. "I'll come with yo u, if you'll tell me something."
"Anything."
"You're promising me?"
"Yes. I'm promising you. What do you need to know that's so important?" There was a twinge of anxiety in Noah's voice, which Joe took pleasure in hearing. "I'll tell you when I choose," he said. "Now, where are we going?"
On the far side of the plaza of columns stood a building that was in some ways the paradigm of Ketherian aesthetics. It was at first sight a simple two-story structure, but as Noah and Joe approached it, skirting the now-dwindling battle, it became clear that every stone of its unadorned walls had been chiseled to illuminate some particular felicity, so that each was in its simple way a different form of perfection. The sum was breathtaking: like a page of poetry, laid line on line.
But Noah had not time for the study of stone. He led them round to a simple door, and there, taking Joe by the arm, he said, "I promised you power. It's in there."
"What is this place?"
"A temple."
"to whom?"
"I think you know."
"The Zehrapushu?" Joe said.
"Of course. they like you, Afrique. If anybody is allowed access to this place, it'll be you."
"And what's inside?"
"I told you. Power."
"Then why don't you go in?"
"Because I'm not pure enough," Noah said.
Joe found it in him to laugh, even under these grim circumstances. "And I am?" he said.
"You're Sapas Humana, Afrique. Pure Sapas Humana."
"And the 'shu like that?"
"I believe they will."
"And if they don't?" Joe said, coming close to Noah now. "What happens?"
"Death happens," he said.
"Simple as that?"
"Simple as that."
Joe looked at the door. Like the wall into which it was set it possessed a physical beauty that took his breath away. What it lacked was a handle or a keyhole.
"If I open the door and don't get killed, you follow. Is that the idea?"
"Always so swift, my friend," Noah said. "Yes, that's the idea."
Joe glanced back at the door, and a wave of curiosity rose up in him to know what lay on the other side. He had looked into the eyes of the
'shu twice now, once on the shore and once in the weed-bed, and each time had felt touched by a mystery that he desperately wanted to solve.
Perhaps he could do it here. Concealing his eagerness, he turned back to Noah.
"Before we go in," he said, "answer my question."
"Ask it.,'
"I want to know what it is the families have been arguing about all these years. I want to know what's made them kill each other." Noah said nothing. "You promised me," Joe prompted him.
"Yes," he said at last. "I did."
"So tell me."
Noah shrugged. "What does it matter now?" he said to himself. "I'll tell you He looked back towards the battlefield once, then, his voice lowered to a whisper he said: "The dynasty of Ezso Aetherium believe that the lad exists because Sapas Humana dreamed them into being. That the lad are the darkness in the collective soul of your species."
"And your family?"
"We believe the other way about," Noah said.
It took Joe a little time to realize what he was being told. "You think we're something the lad Uroboros dreamed up."
"Yes, Afrique. That's what we believe."
"Who invented this crap?" Noah shrugged. "Who knows where wisdom comes from?" "That's not wisdom," Joe said. "It's fucking stupidity." "Why do you say so?" "Because I'm not a dream." "If you were, why do you suppose you'd know it?" Noah said.