Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 14

There was a row of clay oil-lamps on wooden stands along each wall. Steeples of black smoke stained the concrete walls above them. There were smaller oil-lamps on the table.

"We have a kitchen at this end and a crapper at the far end."

She led him out through a side-door and across a narrow corridor into a room with a tall lectern at one end and rows of desks facing it.

"This is the main classroom and scriptorium."

"What's a scriptorium?"

"A room for writing books. Take a look."

On the lectern was a large leather-covered book with vellum sheets, opened in the middle. On the desks were four similar volumes. The text was a list of names, titles and properties. The students were making copies. Many other leather-covered books were lined up on the shelves and stacked on tables in the corners.

"What is it?"

"We call it the Family Name Book. It's what Madam Recorder has memorized."

Gloria ran her hand along the spines of the books on the shelf, talking as she walked.

"After the catastrophe," she said, "we wrote down everything we could remember. All the history, all the science, all the mathematics, all our laws; even stories and poems. That's what our education has become: learning the content of these books and copying them."

"Why do you make so many copies?"

"A set of each volume is intended for every tribe."

"I see," he said. "So why didn't they get them?"

"Much labour goes into making these books, into preparing the vellum and the leather. Hours are spent dictating and writing each page. They are very expensive items and, as you can see, we decided to keep them to ourselves and let the other tribes study them as they wish."

She sounded defiant rather than apologetic.

He was going to make a sarcastic comment about the kindness of the Cloners sharing the legacy of Samothea with the other tribes; but something in her manner prevented him. It seemed amazing to him that this was a woman he'd known barely half-an-hour, yet he thought he understood her. He thought she couldn't really mean what she said, that the Cloners couldn't be so apparently greedy.

There was something she was almost telling him but not quite. He couldn't condemn her until he knew, so he remained silent.

"Come on upstairs to the Junior dormitory and the bedrooms," she said.

There were concrete stairs in the corridors each side of the hall. They led up to another corridor with windows so people could see what was going on thirty feet below.

The Junior dormitory was a long room with six good-sized beds and the kind of mess one would expect from teenage girls. Except for the bed nearest the door, which was empty, there was no clue here for Ezra to tell how many Juniors there were.

Next was the bathroom. It had a large shower area but no actual showers. The pumps no longer worked so the Juniors fetched buckets of water from the rain-water buts on the roof (warmed in the sun by mid-day) or from one of the nearby canals into which the river was partly diverted to feed the city with fresh water and to take effluent away to the sea. Behind a partition were the crappers.

There were bedrooms on the front of the building and down one side. They were fitted out quite well but not lavish, so far as Ezra could tell from glancing through the open doors.

Last was the west side of the hall, looking toward the ocean.

"This is where I live," Gloria said. "Come in and have a look."

It was a spacious apartment with three rooms. The living room had a bookcase and small tasteful carvings on shelves. Comfortable seats were set around a low table. The next room had a large bed and a wardrobe bulging with clothes. The third room was a balcony, open to the elements, with strong wooden shutters to defend the bedroom windows against fierce easterly winds and freezing night rain.

The balcony had water-proof furniture and a tarpaulin roof to protect against the oppressive sun.

Ezra had never seen so comfortable a living-space on Samothea and few quite so well situated even on Earth. The view was magnificent. Westward, beyond the straggling outliers of the city, the silver river snaked through the muddy delta to the shining blue sea. Leaning over the balcony, one could see the shore stretch in a long crescent southward, with spots of golden sand-dunes standing out proudly.

The north also showed coast: a rockier, wilder shore that blended with the sea and the grassy plain on the misted horizon. To the north-east were the White Mountains, their peaks obscured by clouds, where the three girls had ventured to find the lost Miner tribe.

"What do you think?" Gloria asked.

"It's beautiful," Ezra said. "And now I know why there are no sea-birds."

"Why?"

"Guano."

"What?"

"Bird, er, droppings."

"You can say 'shit'. I know the word."

"Well, I guess the Founders planned to live by the sea and knew that, on Earth, their city would be covered in bird-shit. There'd be squawking gulls fighting and splattering everywhere; and those mud-flats would be covered in noisy smelly geese."

She laughed. "There are many reasons to be grateful to the wisdom of the Founders, as you will see later. ... Are you ready to visit the technology store?"

He was, so she led him downstairs to the south-east corner of the hall and stopped in front of a double door.

All the while Gloria had shown him around the Cloner City, he'd taken surreptitious glances at her face, captivated by her big eyes. This time she met his gaze, clearly understanding his inner motive. Smiling back at him, she knocked on the door.

The small head of a small middle-aged blonde woman eventually popped out.

"Oh, hello, Gloria. What's up?"

"Sally, this is Ezra Goldrick of the Three Tribes. He's come all the way from Earth to see our technology store. ... Ezra, allow me to introduce Madam Scientist, Sarah Wandasdaughter Cloner."

Sally did a double take when she saw Ezra behind Gloria but she recovered quickly.

"How do you do, Madam Scientist?" he said.

"I do very well, thanks, Ezra Goldrick of the Three Tribes. Call me Sally and come on in."

The door opened into a room the length of four cubes. It was filled with bits of old technology laid out on the floor or stacked on shelves against the walls. Everything was labelled and there was a large leather-bound inventory book open on a wooden bench just inside the door, at which Madam Scientist had been working.

A girl halfway down the corridor bent over a pile of oddments with a small strip of wood-bark as a sheet of paper and a stick of charcoal to make notes.

"We have the big stuff outside, under tarpaulins," Madam Scientist said. "When you're done in here, just go through the door at the far end and you'll see it right ahead of you. Just promise you'll keep to our rule?"

"Of course, Sally. What is it?"

"If you move anything, either put it back or let Crystal or me know where you put it. Keeping inventory is the very devil! ... That's Crystal." She indicated the girl bending over the box of parts. "She's an apprentice who thinks I'll give her a better report just because she's staying here to help me, rather than running off to have fun at the Fair, as she damn well ought!"

Crystal smiled and looked up. She stared at Ezra for a minute before she blushed and looked down again at her work.

"What are you looking for, Ezra Goldrick?" Madam Scientist asked.

"I'm interested in medical equipment but I'm willing to try to get any piece of technology working for you, if I can. ... What exactly are you doing with all this, er, stuff?"

At first glance, Ezra saw a badly-arranged pile of junk. After closer examination, he saw a neatly-arranged museum of junk.

"We're recording it and trying to fit pieces together. If we can take something apart and guess how it works, we write it down. Someday, something may work again. Maybe we can make one good thing out of two or more broken things. ... In fact, you can help. We don't know what everything is. If you see anything marked as 'unknown', then please let us know what it's supposed to do."

Ezra began to look around and quickly found something promising: a laser pen-knife much like his own.

"Do you know how this works?" he asked.

"What's the inventory number?" Madam Scientist asked from down the room.

"A015/G032."

She looked it up in the inventory book.

"Aha! It's a laser-pen-knife. Apparently, it has a solar collector in the handle and a laser blade comes out of the nib. The last time anyone tried to charge it up or use it was, erm, eighteen years ago, give or take."

"Your records are remarkably thorough," Ezra said, somewhat impressed. "May I try it?"

"Of course."

All three women came to look. He pulled out the umbrella and held it in the strong afternoon sun by a window for a few minutes, then he tried the buttons. Nothing happened.

Crystal gasped and the two older women looked closely as he took out his own pen-knife and detached the fuel cell, swapping it with the fuel cell from the dead knife. Neither knife now worked.

"It's the circuitry inside, I'm afraid," he said, putting his own knife back together and handing the broken one to Crystal. "I really thought this would work, because it's such simple technology. It's a bad omen for the other technology."

"Would you know how to repair it?" the Scientist asked.

"Sorry, not a clue."

"That's all right. Will you show us how your own pen-knife works?"

After he'd spent ten minutes demonstrating his laser-knife, letting them touch it and promising to come back to perform all the tasks they now had for him and his laser-blade, Ezra spent half-an-hour helping Crystal identify some of the 'unknown' items, giving his best guesses for what they might be. Then he went outside.

Outside were a hover-plane with detached engines, a jeep with no wheels and broken windows, two tractors, a digger with decayed tyres, mixing machines, drilling machines and a sort of crane mechanism that must have been used to build the houses; all of it falling apart or seized up.

It saddened Ezra to think of the effort the Founders made to drag all this junk here and protect it with valuable tarpaulins.

Back inside the technology store, they could see from his disappointed face what he thought of the exhibits. With some last few words with Sally, Gloria showed him to the medical room, where it was the same story.

Various electronic machines were left in place since the days of the Founders but none worked; neither x-ray machines, ultrasound viewers, robotic microwave surgery tools or anything in what once was a very well-equipped clinic.

There were hypodermic syringes, scalpels and clamps; but nothing to look inside a living body to say where the work needed to be done. It was extremely disappointing.

Gloria was sympathetic but not very encouraging.

"I'm sorry you haven't found what you were hoping for, Ezra Goldrick, but we can only record and preserve the technology, we cannot mend it."

"I understand. Thank you, Madam, for showing me everything I needed to see. I'll go and report back to the chiefs."

"No need. I sent Crystal to fetch everyone to the Council Chamber. They should be there now. Shall we go and join them?"

3The Council

Four councillors and three chiefs were waiting in the Council Chamber, sitting on the throne-like seats at the big table. They stood when Gloria entered the hall.

The only member of the council Ezra hadn't yet met was Madam Medic, an old lady, frail-looking, with white hair and a kindly smile. She'd been talking to Calliope, who introduced Ezra to her. Now eight of the most senior women of Samothea were gathered together for an unscheduled meeting with their guest from Earth.

It was clear where the councillors would sit. The seat of honour in the middle of the table was reserved for Gloria. Her councillors sat either side. Richly embroidered cloaks hung over the backs of their chairs, one for each councillor. There was now a pitcher of water on the table and a bowl of fruit. The three chiefs stood behind the chairs opposite the councillors, waiting for Gloria to sit down, who remained standing, however.

"Well, Ezra Goldrick of the Three Tribes," she said, "I've shown you what you asked to see. Are you satisfied or do you have any further questions for us?"

"Thank you, Madam," he replied, "I've many questions but first may I speak to the three chiefs alone?"

"Of course," Gloria said. "I have something for the councillors to do. ... Ladies, come with me to the scriptorium, please."

As they left, there were voices outside the chamber and the pretty blonde Junior came in.

"Yes, Hazel?" Gloria said. "What is it?"

"It's Megan Herder, Madam ..."

"Megan Dierdresdaughter Herder," Madam Recorder muttered to herself automatically.

"... she wants to know where she and Ezra are sleeping tonight."

"Really, Solange!" Mirselene exclaimed. "Do you Herders think of nothing except sex?"

"Sure we do, Mirselene," Solange answered happily. "Occasionally we think about food. ... Gloria, will you put Ezra and Megan up here tonight? I'm sure you've got room."

Gloria nodded.

"Hazel, please make up a bed in the Junior dormitory for Megan and put Ezra in one of the spare rooms. Afterward, will you ask the cooks at the Fair to send us some food? We'll be having an early dinner. We won't need the Juniors again until dinner time, so you can amuse yourselves for an hour or two."

With that, Gloria led the councillors to the scriptorium and Hazel helped Megan lug her and Ezra's packs up the stairs to the Junior dormitory.

When Ezra was alone with the three chiefs, they waited expectantly for him to speak but he stood in silence, gripping the back of one of the councillors' thrones with whitened knuckles.

"Well, Ezra," Mirselene prompted. "What do you have to say?"

He remained silent, looking down.

"What is it? Are you disappointed?"

He looked up. It was Calliope's turn to be perceptive.

"He's not disappointed. He's angry."

"Why so he is," agreed Solange, going close to examine his face. "I have to admire Gloria. It took me a month of goading and teasing to get you this riled up but she managed it in only a few hours."

She turned back to the others.

"He's beautiful when he's angry, isn't he?"

"Stop needling him, Solange, and let him speak," Mirselene ordered. "Come on Ezra, we're your friends. What have the Cloners done? Why are you so angry with them?"

"I'm not angry with the Cloners. Not really. They showed me everything I wanted to see and kept nothing from me."

"So what is it?"

"Do you know what an anticlimax is?"

"Of course."

"Well, this is the biggest bloody anticlimax of my life! ... I was geared up for a fight over the precious old-Earth technology but what do I find?"

"What?"

"Nothing!" he shouted. "There's nothing here. You told me about the wicked Cloners: how they were proud, arrogant, greedy, rapacious?"

"We did," Mirselene said.

"I didn't," Solange said.

"No, Solange," he admitted, "you only said the Cloners wanted to kidnap me and keep me a prisoner."

She smiled at the memory.

"Go on Ezra," Mirselene said, "tell us how we misinformed you."

"I expected there to be Amazons with spears guarding the technology store and triple locks on the door of the cloning lab. I expected the Cloners to be menacing and territorial, secretive and cunning. ... They're nothing like that! They're just a bunch of women without a clue what they're doing or what they've got hold of. You know their much-vaunted collection of Earth-side technology, wheedled out of you and miserly protected?"

"What of it?"

"It's scrap. The whole lot of it. Nothing works or likely ever will work. Their medical kit is the same. Just rubbish. There's nothing here and no excuse for all their superiority and luxury. You know, they cover all that junk with tarpaulins, while our tribes use banana leafs to roof our huts!"

"Is that why you're angry?"

"No. I'm frustrated at the whole situation, especially at my own impotence. ..." There was almost despair in his voice. "Mirselene, there's nothing here to help Yumi ... and there's bugger all I can do if anything goes wrong!"

He sat down and was silent. The chiefs also sat.

"Yumi is key to so much that could be done here, to make human life sustainable ... ." he trailed off.

"We understand, Ezra," Mirselene assured him. "What can we do?"

"Nothing. Sorry. I'll calm down in a while. Please excuse my swearing."

They waited patiently, though Solange was disappointed at letting Ezra's anger waste away.

Calliope took the pitcher of water and poured him a cup. He drank it slowly and calmed down.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

"Not really. I feel cheated - and stupid."

"Why stupid?"

"Because I expected the Cloners to have secrets, so I kept secrets myself. You know, I didn't tell Megan and the others that Yumi was pregnant. Why not? Who cares? It shouldn't be a damn secret. Does anyone here object if I tell the Cloners everything about the salvage?"

There was no dissent.

"You've been here a few hours and seen the city but you weren't angry before," Solange probed, perceptive as usual. "In fact, you and Gloria seemed to be getting on famously. So what just set you off?"

He just looked down, frowning.

"Come on, Ezra, tell us." This was Mirselene, in the soothing tones she used on children.

"Better: I'll show you," he said, getting up.

He dragged a throne-like chair from the Council's side of the table around to the side the chiefs sat and lined it up with one of their chairs, back-to-back.

"See?"

They saw all right. Though the backs of the chairs were the same height, the seat of the councillor's chair was three inches higher than the chief's seat.

"It's a trick to make the councillors seem taller so they can look down on you. This is for show, so a bunch of women can play-act, just like men!"

"What do you mean 'just like men'?" Solange asked.

"All this dressing up and the pompous titles, 'Madam Recorder' and 'Madam Lawspeaker'. Men do that, not women. On Earth, there are societies where men wear grand costumes and address each other as 'Worshipful Brother' or 'Honourable Master' but it's all mere posturing. They pretend to hold arcane knowledge. In reality, they have a big dinner and collect money for charity. Women's lodges also do charity work, only without the pointless ceremony and dressing up. Women are more practical."

"But here, in the Cloner City," he went on, "the councillors have big titles, thrones and sumptuous cloaks. I'm surprised they don't have head-pieces as well. This nonsense must have been designed by men; so why are women perpetuating it? What's it all for? They don't have anything here: no secret power; nothing to justify all this pageantry."

"Don't the Cloners have one secret?" Mirselene asked. "They kept the cloning lab closed to you."

"Yes, but I know why. That is, I think I know how the cloning kits work. We'll find out later if I'm right or wrong. But even so, it's not such an important secret that they need to protect it."

He sat down again and no longer fumed, though his mood was not yet tranquil. The chiefs conferred for a minute, then Calliope went to fetch back the councillors.

The councillors returned carrying three large leather books, which they set on the table. Gloria took her place and soon everyone was seated at the table. The chiefs smiled at each other when they saw how tall even the diminutive Madam Scientist seemed.

"Well, Ezra," Gloria said. "It's time for questions. Yours and ours. Would you like to go first?"

"Yes, I would. Thanks. ... Why do you call me 'Ezra Goldrick of the Three Tribes'?"

"That's down to Calliope and me," Solange answered. "The Cloners asked your matronymic but no one knew it, so I suggested calling you 'Ezra Goldrick, Earthman'. No one else liked that, so Calliope suggested 'Ezra Goldrick of the Three Tribes', which we all liked."