Some of the village women were wiping away tears, and some children were crying. And Fifth, playing a part, nevertheless felt the impact of the sorrowful song.
He knew he loved Weft.
Then Weft stood and addressed the people of the two villages directly. "This story is true. Two of your number did encounter a bed of passion flowers and were swept into love. I have brought one of the flowers as proof." She set a cut flower in a vase on the joint table. "Do not approach it too closely; its fumes could affect you."
There were a few chuckles. Then the villagers realized that this was not a joke. Some edged away from the flower; others edged toward it. Regardless, its subtle fragrance was infusing the air, making everyone increasingly passionate. Not by a lot, not intense, but enough to turn thoughts to romance. Fifth felt it himself.
"The girl is Jasmine of the White Chroma village. The boy is Carl, son of the Village Elder of the Black Chroma village." Suddenly all eyes turned to the two, who until this moment had been anonymous. "They are in love, but can't see each other. Soon Carl will turn eighteen and have to marry a Black Chroma girl he will never love, and next year Jasmine will face similar grief with a White Chroma boy. It seems a shame, for them and for their partners, who will be blameless."
The villagers nodded with understanding. Wouldn't it make sense for an exception to be made?
Weft faced Carver, the Black Village Elder. "Did you know they trysted, that first time? They couldn't help it; no one could. How do you feel about that?"
And it was a Moral Village. Sex outside of marriage was forbidden.
"They trysted?" Carver frowned. He knew he had to reverse himself, lest there be serious discord in both villages. Fortunately there was a face-saving way. "Then they must marry. Soon."
Jasmine and Carl stared at him. Then they moved together as the villagers applauded.
"The flower bed must be cared for," Weft continued. "Those passion flowers are singularly rare and valuable.
There will be enormous demand for cuttings elsewhere. But how can fairness in their handling be assured? I suggest that each village will have to assign a representative to reside at the site, to ensure that proper care is taken, that brigands do not steal them, and that the proceeds are evenly divided between the villages. But anyone going there will soon be overcome by passion. Do we have any volunteers?"
There was silence. A cut flower was one thing; being chronically immersed in the fumes was another. This would be extremely hard on morality.
"I suggest that the Village Elders assign their representatives," Weft continued. "Carl and Jasmine, who have already been overcome by the ambiance of the flowers. They have nothing more to lose, and much to gain. For themselves and their villages. Surely you can trust them."
The two Village Elders exchanged a look. They nodded, yielding to community pressure. It did make sense. The villagers applauded. The decision had been set up by Weft's meetings with the Elders the day before, but it seemed spontaneous. Everyone would profit.
Now the dance commenced, the lead-in for a rapid wedding. Fifth and Weft danced together, then were taken by eager villagers. Fifth danced with many White Chroma girls, and Weft with Black Chroma boys.
The girls flirted shamelessly with him, offering no fault trysts. But he had an answer: "My love is taken," as he glanced Weft's way. "How could I ever be no fault with anyone but her?" And of course Weft was responding similarly to the boys. It was a deft mutual convenience that happened to have considerable substance.
Through it all, Fifth's mind was reeling. Weft used her organization and persuasion to benefit the planet, two villages, and a young couple in love. What a woman she was! Of course he knew that she had used her awareness of the near future paths to guide her to the successful course; that was why things had worked out so neatly. Still, it was impressive. Not only had she accomplished her spot mission of getting the passion flower trade established, she had done it in such a way as to enable young love to flourish. She was, beneath her awesome powers, a nice person.
He loved her. But he also loved Flame. What was he to do?
That night at the inn, intoxicated by the vaporous elixir of the flower and by Weft's embrace, he suffered a revelation. "The memory project!" he exclaimed. "I think I know why the machines are doing it."
She paused. "Question?"
"They are looking for something. They are following multiple avenues, such as Mino who came here over a thousand years ago, and the fifths who started a generation ago, the robot Shee, the survival contest Flame participated in, and now the memory collections for their archives. All may be overtly for other reasons, but underlying it is this common thread. The search."
"What are they looking for?"
"It's not a specific thing so much as a pattern. I don't know what it is, but they will know it when they find it. So will I. I think that's what makes me a nexus. I will discover what the machines truly want."
"How do you know this?"
"I don't know, but somehow I do know. Read my mind."
"Verified." She made a moue. "I am holding you close, and your mind is on something else."
He winced. "Apology."
She laughed. "Teasing. You are lending meaning to my quest. But what pattern could be so important that the machines are putting such an enormous amount of energy into their search for it?"
"I think if we can fathom that, we will gain a significant advantage."
"I have advised Voila and Idyll. Appreciation, Fifth."
"Welcome." He focused on her. "Now let's make wild passionate romantic sexual love."
"I thought you'd never think of it," she said as their clothing dissolved.
Chapter 13 Bee-chines
"Request," Havoc said. "I need you." Gale laughed. "What, tired of your new mechanical bath girls already?"
"Negation. I merely have other business at the moment. You will need to deal with this request by the living cultures."
"Question?"
"A plant culture has a petition."
"Thus it comes to you," she agreed.
"For the admittance of a neighboring machine culture."
Gale shook her head. "Joke?"
"Negation. They are serious."
"Havoc, I have a problem with this."
"Endorsement. But it seems someone must handle the petition. Is the word 'no' in your vocabulary?"
"Annoyance. You're sticking me with the chore of telling them no."
"Affirmation. How could I ever say no to a sapient plant?" He frowned. "Besides which, Voila says you are better for this one."
She was stuck for it. "And you let your life be run by Voila?"
"Negation. Weft, maybe, but not Voila." It was the ongoing joke, with an unfortunately serious tinge. "Or Ennui."
"Ennui runs the planet, not your life."
"Acquiescence." He waited.
She sighed. "Give me the contact information. I'll take Vila."
"Appreciation." He kissed her and gave her the information.
It turned out to be a beautiful world, almost completely covered with bright blooms. The few artificial structures were shaped and colored like giant flowers.
"Ooo," Vila said appreciatively. "I like this world."
Gale laughed. "You like every world you've seen."
"All five," the girl agreed.
"Five?"
Vila counted off fingers. "Charm, Counter Charm, Earth, the other plant world, and this one."
"Is it the worlds you like, or the people on them?"
The girl counted off again. "Aura, Idyll, Monochrome, the nursemaid plant, and the carnivore plant here. I like both worlds and people."
"Carnivore? Alarm!"
Vila giggled. "Idyll told me. I haven't met her yet."
Gale relaxed. "Just be careful around carnivores."