The Testimony of Her Eminence and Most Puissant Sentience Tara del D’myn, Matriarch of Skarsia and All Humanity, Nuncio to the Combine of Sentients
There had to be some way to take advantage of this information. There had to be.
In love with my husband? I vowed to crush that pipsqueak.
I tried to remind myself that I didn’t allow Whirljack’s fangirls to upset me, and that the Emanation Monthly media channel had been around for decades. I think it was the old Vizier, Bok Denevi, who approved it. Said he couldn’t see the harm. And then Archbishop Venesti said it could be a way of increasing church membership. A “divine seduction” he called it. But Ash drew the line when Venesti wanted to create an order of nuns called the Brides of the Archon.
Venesti is an idiot, and Denevi was a traitor. And I was allowing adolescent girls to decorate their bedrooms with holopos of my husbands. Why did I ever think that was a good idea?
I tried to calm myself with the thought that it was pretty harmless stuff.
I had never actually verified that fact.
I grabbed my datapad and dialed up the Emanation Monthly push. “New emanation spectacular!!!” the splash screen blared. After a few seconds, it dissolved into a rotation of images listing the featured stories. “Man of Mystery,” the letters scrolled across a holograph of Vassali looking particularly wistful. How corny.
“A Pirate at the Beach,” proclaimed the next. Benbow was posed in front of a beached dinghy, lounging on the sand, wearing only a bandana and a pair of matching swim thongs that left little to the imagination.
Oh, I could imagine, all right. I could imagine exactly the effect on the hormones of the average fifteen-year-old. “On the banned media list NOW!” I yelled down the palace hall, to any servant close enough to hear me.
Doing my best offended sulk, I thrust my hands deeply into my jacket pockets.
There was an apple in one of them. It was the nau’gsh apple from Balin’s branch that Lugh had given me.
But that apple wasn’t from Ashvattha. It was from Balin’s branch within the pleroma. Then maybe…
I was presented with a conundrum. Assuming that my idea would work, I wanted the full power of the amrita. Applying the same process as the synthesis of Gyre changes the apple’s nau’gshtamine amide-t molecules into the more powerful nau’gshtamine amide-a. An unaltered apple doesn’t have enough nau’gshtamine amide-t to give the same lift. But making the amrita seems to strip away the organic characteristics which allow the energy of an individual branch to infuse the apple, and the point was to make contact with the emanations on the inside. I could have just eaten the apple, which would have retained its characteristics, but it wouldn’t be strong enough to give me the gift of prophecy.
Then I remembered Tannon’s nuts. They had a stronger concentration of nau’gshtamine amide-t, and unlike the amrita, allowed the same narrow focus possible with experienced use of Gyre. Unfortunately, as of the time that I had left, Tannon was unrecognized. I wasn’t certain that I would be able to contact him.
I wondered what would happen if I ate the apple combined with a handful of Tannon’s nuts. It was worth the experiment. Canopus was sitting on the verandah. I plucked one of Tannon’s cones, peeled away the seed coats, popped the nuts into my mouth.
As I bit into the apple, it occurred to me that if we were going to misname these fruits (since they’re really a form of nectarine, and not an apple at all), why not call them cherries? Might as well make the sexual metaphor more blatant.
I had forgotten just how potent Tannon’s nuts were. I lowered myself quickly into a deck chair before I fell over the railing. Breaking my neck without Ash around to fix it would have been a stupidly embarrassing way to die.
I closed my eyes.
*****
« Tara just popped my cherry, » says Balin.
« It’s too bad you’ve already got your achievement, » says Ace. « That might have qualified for #52, “Find your virginity.” »
I nearly spit up the apple with laughter. « What an object for a quest! Although, when you think about it, a very courtly one. »
And then they’re all jumping up and down shouting, « Tara! »
« Have I got a lot to tell you, guys. »
« Is it what you said to Manan on the beach this afternoon, » asks Lugh?
« Um, yes? »
« Aran already read all about it. »
« He what? »
« He found the branch library in New Merenis. »
« The. Branch. Library. »
Why does it surprise me at all that there would be such a thing?
« It was pretty smart of him to check out Manan’s volume, » says Beat. « It was slim, considering. »
« Patrick’s section is massive, taking up almost a floor of the library, » says Lugh. « More importantly, Aran found Cillian’s section. It was blocked off, and there was a sign which said, “Closed. Sorry for the Inconvenience.” »
« But it’s still there. That’s important. Hey, what happened when Smiley usurped the Aion? »
« Tielo took care of it, by rerouting our power directly from Yggdrasil, » says Ailann. « Unfortunately, he’s not been quite right since then. »
« What do you mean, not quite right? »
« I tried going into his branch. It’s just a lot of…it doesn’t make sense. »
« It’s not like Suibhne’s branch, » says Dermot. « Suibhne doesn’t make sense either, but there’s a kind of narrative there. This is more like static. Strobe lights. »
« Dermot! Who else got an achievement since I left? »
« Lucius, Tielo and Wynne. »
« Have you made contact with Benbow? I need to talk to him about the last push cycle of Emanation Monthly. »
« That was a pretty hot holo shoot, wasn’t it? » asks Ace.
« Who the hell thought that posing in a thong was a good idea? »
There’s a moment of silence. Then Lugh says, « I’ve been in the swimsuit issue twice, but I always wore trunks. »
« I’ve never participated in those, » says Ailann. « I’ve always thought that it was beneath the dignity of the Archon. But perhaps we should focus on the task at hand. »
« I’ve eaten Tannon’s nuts. I’m going to concentrate on finding the telepathic enclave. »
I try to let go of the tension in my body, entering into a state of relaxed awareness. An image enters my mind: a woman walking alone on a dirt road up a slope. She’s in a gorgeous mountainous area, and a cool breeze blows through her hair. When she gets to the top there’s a stone-lined pool which collects the melting snow running off from the peaks above. I notice that she’s carrying a bucket; she stoops to fill it. She’s humming softly to herself. I recognize the tune, an Archonate spiritual called “I will rest in the shade of your boughs, Lord.” Actually, it’s a piece that Whirljack wrote. He’s anonymously contributed much of the church’s contemporary liturgical music.
I don’t get it. There’s no sign of a dread conspiracy in this peaceful pastoral scene.
« The enclave is hidden in the mountains, » says Ailann. « It’s possible that it’s close to the area in your vision. The pool is distinctive. »
« It’s too bad Valentin isn’t connected, » says Balin. « He’d probably figure out where that was just by the smell. »
« We don’t have direct access to either Solomon or Rand, the emanations who are good at figuring out this kind of thing, » says Ace. « We could try to describe it to them, I suppose. »
« Solomon is a little preoccupied with relationship drama right now, » says Lugh.
« Solomon? Relationship drama? »
« I’m afraid that’s my fault, » says Dermot. « I don’t know what to say to him. »
In the background, I can hear Lorcan saying, « Tell him he’d be cuter if he shaved off the porntasche. »
« That is absolutely not what to say, » advises Beat. « I’d just be honest. »
« Dermot, I hate to say this, but it’s not important right now. »
« Amen, » says Ailann. « You told Manan that the telepaths are in the Mountains of Gbleth. Maybe you should make a sketch of what you saw and ask anyone local to that area if they recognize it. »
« That’s a great idea in theory. In practice, I can’t draw my way out of a force bubble. »
« We don’t have access to Driscoll yet, either, » says Balin. « But he has no way of getting a sketch out into the material world anyway. You’re just going to have to do your best. »
« Constantine has my fabristylus. »
« Tara, » says Ace, « that’s the imaginary one inside of the pleroma. The real one, upon which that one is based, is probably still in your bedroom dresser. »
I open my eyes, standing up tentatively. I’m steady enough to walk. Indeed, the effect is already fading – Tannon’s nuts are powerful, but they don’t last. The resonance from Balin’s apple is, however, lingering. It’s getting harder to hear what’s happening inside of the pleroma, but I can still feel Balin’s presence.
They’re right. The fabristylus is in the drawer. And I haven’t touched it since I was fifteen. Is it even going to work? Also, I’d need paper. The only thing I have is rag-paper sticky notes.
All right, I’ll try the art app on my datapad. I hate those.
Here goes.
« It’s a masterpiece, » says Lugh.
« I’m sure that Driscoll would say it’s a brilliant work of minimalism, » says Dermot. « However, perhaps a few more details might be of assistance to anyone trying to localize the site. »
« Most of those art apps have a sharpen detail function, » suggests Cüinn. « Why don’t you try that? »
« Hmmm, » says Cüinn. « I think you have the interpolation level set too high. »
« Ugh. It’s pointless. I can’t draw. I’m much better with words. I’d be better off if I verbally described my vision to someone familiar with the area. I know. I’ll message Johannon. »
The effect of the apple is fading now, which is a good thing. It means I don’t have to listen to them bitch about me calling up my ex-boyfriend.