He cornered the last of his eggs between his spoon and a strip of fish, and when he ate them both he realized the others had mostly finished. He cleared his throat. Recognizing the gesture, Saan-Kakja laid aside her own single utensil, an instrument like a broad-bladed, concave knife that also served as a kind of spoon or scoop. It was gold, like so many other Maa-ni-lo devices. Matt hadn’t seen as much gold in his life, certainly not among other Lemurians, as he had in the last few days. The thing was, it didn’t seem to have any value other than that it didn’t tarnish and it was pretty. The High Chief. .. tess?-absurd, they didn’t think like that. Their word, U-Amaki, transcended gender. The High Chief dabbed daintily at her mouth with an embroidered napkin and sat even straighter, if possible.
“Cap-i-taan Reddy,” she began. “I must begin by begging you to forgive me for neglecting you so inexcusably.” Meksnaak blinked furiously and opened his mouth to speak, but she darted a look in his direction that Matt couldn’t read, and his jaws clamped shut. "1em"›
“I have heard much about your adventures and battles against the scourge from the west, and I am inspired. I allowed myself to be convinced, however, that my excitement was that of an emotional youngling, and here we are safe from attack. Better to stay uninvolved-beyond learning as much from you as we can, and helping you in small, safe, material ways. There are… factions in Maa-ni-la that thrive on contention and intrigue, and are obsessed with their own petty concerns. They counsel that we let you, Baalkpan, and the other allied Homes stand alone against the Grik, while we remain safely uninvolved. We are prosperous, happy, stable, and untouched by the distant threat. Even if Baalkpan falls, the Grik will be content to remain far away, and in the meantime our trade, industry, and prosperity will flourish even more.” Her ears flattened with contempt. “Of course, there are also the ones you call ‘runaways,’ who counsel that, even if the Grik do someday come here, we can flee once more as we did in the ancient tales of the Scrolls; that we have grown too comfortable, too fixed in place, too reliant upon the land.”
Matt nodded. Those were the same arguments he and Nakja-Mur had faced when they first suggested defiance. Most people on the seagoing Homes couldn’t comprehend their cousins’ attachment to places, or understand their unwillingness to leave them. Keje did, and so did the other members of the alliance. They knew there’d be no escape this time. The world was a smaller place, and now the Grik had oceangoing ships of their own, albeit tiny in comparison; they had so many, the terrible sea was no longer the protector it had been. It was like the old scorpion and tarantula in the jar. The tarantula wasn’t well equipped to cope with the scorpion, but sooner or later he had to deal with his deadly, aggressive adversary, because he couldn’t avoid him forever, and there just wasn’t anyplace else to go. It was always a toss-up who’d win.
“I understand you grow impatient,” Saan-Kakja resumed, “and I do not blame you. Your most powerful ship is here, and you languish in comfort and are free from want, but all the while the enemy may be massing against you. You are frustrated by our intransigence, and don’t understand our hesitation to join you.” She shook her head. “Honestly, I am as frustrated as you, and my patience is possibly even less. I do know what causes it, however. My people are comfortable and free from want. That is a condition any good ruler desires, but there are times, such as this, that that very condition makes it difficult for such a ruler to convince those comfortable people they must put that aside and face the unpleasant reality of the harsher world beyond their sight.” She sighed and turned again to Meksnaak.
“What of the proposal I put before the counsel? That we join the alliance to destroy the Grik threat forever, and send whatever we may in the way of troops and supplies to their aid?”
Meksnaak shifted uncomfortably. “My dear, it is… unwise to reveal our private discussions in the presence of strangers-particularly when those discussions involve them.” He hastily turned to Captain Reddy with a glare. “No such decision has been taken!”
“The decision has been taken by me,” Saan-Kakja retorted.
Meksnaak shook his head sadly. “You are powerful, High Chief, and your opinions have great weight, but even you cannot engage us in full-scale war on your own authority. The clan chiefs must speak.”
“Then let them speak! So far, none has done any speaking but you and other members of the counsel who represent those with the most to gain by inactivity!”
“There are legitimate objections,” Meksnaak insisted, “not only to going to war, but to any association with these Amer-i-caan… heretics!” He blinked outrage at the thought of the Americans’ Scrolls. He’d never seen them, but he’d been assured they were… extraordinary. His initial concern that their existence represented heresy was not dispelled when Adar told him with glowing eyes that the American Scrolls almost perfectly mirrored their own, except they were even more precise! Meksnaak accepted that. Adar was a Sky Priest of extensive renown, and Meksnaak was willing to take his word in that respect. But the knowledge did not make him admire the Americans, or soothe his concerns about their spiritually corrosive behavior. If anything, it made him resent and fear them even more. If their Scrolls were so much more precise than those of the People, they must be holy indeed. Could they even be the very originals from which all others were copied long ago? Scrolls formed under the hand of the Great Prophet Siska-Ta herself? And what of the rumors that the Americans possessed Scrolls no one else had ever seen? Scrolls depicting mysterious lands far beyond the world known by the People? And Adar assured him they displayed their precious Scrolls in the open, for any and all to see-even to handle! How could the Americans be so careless and… irresponsible? Incredible. He’d asked the question of Adar during one of their meetings, and was shocked that one so highly regarded could harbor such liberal views.
“I was as troubled as you, at first,” Adar had confessed, “but that is because I had grown set in my ways, ossified and concerned about a diminution of my precious prerogatives. After much consideration, I changed my mind. Are the Scrolls to be kept secret, and viewed only by those such as we? Surely the great Siska-Ta never intended that; otherwise why write them at all? It was her goal to teach, to enlighten, to share the knowledge of the past and the Heavens and the pathways of the sea and sky-not create an exclusive club reserved for only a select few!”
Now Adar stood and spoke with heat. “They are not heretics; I told you that already! They have different beliefs, surely, but they do not seek to trample or transgress upon our own! And regardless of their differences, the very Scrolls you would use as examples of their heresy prove we share more similarities of thought than differences, and they, at least, gladly aid us against our Ancient Enemy!”