Unlike the other plants in this compendium, R. gardneri was considered both a rare and desirable species on Earth. It was brought in the genetic banks as an oddity to be preserved in botanical gardens. On Dolparessa, however, the situation proved to be quite different. The orchid lives entirely underground, producing a flower of exquisite scent despite the fact that it has no access to sunlight. On Earth, it survived by attaching itself to the mycorrhizae of a species called the broom honeymyrtle (Melaleuca uncinata) and absorbing its nutrients in a parasitic relationship. On Dolparessa, it surprisingly established a relationship with one of the native plants, Nau’gshtium commonalis, and is typically found infesting large tracts of commercial nau’gsh orchards. R. gardneri is the only Earth species that is capable of growing in Dolparessa’s blue zone. When one Cu’enashti was questioned as to why this might be the case, he responded, “We just like them. They smell nice.”
Illustration from Emily H. Pelloe, West Australian Orchids, 1930.
Chase stood in the doorway, resting his hand against the arch. He was still wobbly on his feet, even though he’d spent most of the past three days curled up in bed. Despite this, it had been almost impossible to sleep, and he was exhausted. But Tara was nearby, talking to Lord Danak. Her closeness made him feel markedly better.
“Memehaven, obviously, as that’s CenGov’s new location. Altesia, Tranta, Arthvea…”
“That’s every mudhole in the IndWorlds,” said Tara. “Maybe Clive is right. We should let the SongLuminants clean them out.”
Danak shot her an annoyed glance, then continued with his list: “Frangfrang, Lobostrii, Vetchem, Skyvale, Foria and Nilbex™. Juliet is on Arthvea right now.”
“Ugh. We’ve always had problems with Arthveans. And Frangfrang hates us. They consider our entire civilization the result of despoiling an ecosystem.”
Lord Danak frowned. “I have my doubts as to how much good our efforts at diplomacy will yield. Do you think the SongLuminants are serious?”
“The SongLuminants are sociopaths. They never liked humans to begin with. The rest of the Combine might stop them, though.” Tara looked away for a moment, casting her eyes out the great picture window. “Honestly, they might have a point. The fact that we’re having this problem proves that we’re not very advanced. Humanity has never been able to come together like the StoneStolids or the Ateher. Ash may have pushed us too fast.”
“Don’t sweat it,” said Chase. “The SongLuminants are always infighting, too. They’re not as advanced as they’re cracked up to be.”
Tara crossed the room to him. “You should be resting,” she said, “unless you’ve changed your mind and decided to use alchemy to heal yourself.”
Chase shook his head. “I gotta deal with my shit. It means something.” He pulled a joint of Lammian highweed out of his pocket. “Wanna toke?”
Lord Danak blinked several times. “I thought you were kicking the drugs,” he said.
“Me, straight edge? You’re joking. I’m just off the opium. Why should I put money in the Ennead’s pocket?”
“Don’t be a prude, Danak,” said Tara. “Highweed is harmless, and it should take the edge off what he’s going through.”
Chase grinned. “He’s no prude. Last night he was entertaining some dancers from the Bent’k Cabaret…”
Danak cleared his throat. “Prince Donovan, we were just discussing the situation with the Alliance of Mankind. Juliet has an audience with their Secretary of Interplanetary Relations in sixteen standard hours.”
“What’s up with the Cu’ensali?”
“Same thing for days,” said Tara. “The Cu’ensali are attacking indiscriminately, burning Cu’enashti, Cu’enmerengi and their own people alike. Then the MPP retaliates for their own. So far, we haven’t been able to stop them. It’s completely out of hand.”
“Maybe we should let it go,” muttered Chase.
“What?”
“I fail to see why that would be at all desirable,” added Lord Danak.
“One: the leader of the MPP is called Hellborne – she’s the new emanation of the Cantor Tree.”
“Fucking hell,” said Tara.
“Two: The Cu’ensali want doomsday, have been working on it for years. They were in on General Panic’s deforestation plan. They supplied CenGov with tech and information.”
“That is most disturbing,” said Danak.
“Have they all got root rot? What’s the point?”
Chase shrugged. “I don’t get it either. You should track down Jaxxon. He was saying something about how Mauve and Puce and Amaranth all have different objectives – but he could’ve been lying. He didn’t smell like he was lying, though. It was right before he bushwhacked me. Well, he didn’t actually whack me with a bush – it was a blow dart. Or maybe the term means that you have to be as whack as a bush to fall for it? Like no one would ever say treewhacked because trees are smarter than that. Usually.”
“Which is why you fell for it twice,” said Tara. “I’ve got news for you, though. We can’t interrogate Jaxxon.”
“Huh?”
“He’s dead,” said Danak. “Shortly before we found you, his tree was attacked. Cu’enmerengi are smaller, and have only one trunk, so they burn faster. That’s been one of the bitter ironies of the situation – we’ve had several Cu’enmerengi deaths, but no absolute fatalities amongst the Cu’enashti. Some branch loss, though.”
“That’s death,” said Chase, closing his eyes. “Maybe to I and I it would be like losing a leg, but to me, it would be losing a brother.”
“I don’t know whether Jaxxon was trying to trap you, or whether he really was trying to pass information to you, but it seems pretty clear that he was silenced,” said Tara. “It’s the only thing about this mess that hasn’t seemed random since the initial attack on the Cantor Tree.”
“Why?” said Chase. “Why is this shit happening? It’s terrible.” He rested his forehead against the cool plaster of the arch. His head was still throbbing slightly. Tara approached, resting her hand upon his shoulder.
“This sort of thing happens. Remember Nikolai Farlow? If terrorists get desperate enough, they’ll use suicide as long as they can take others with them.”
“It takes one tree to make a forest fire,” said Chase.
“However,” said Lord Danak, “it is a solution of desperation. Taseans have stopped doing it because their situation is no longer desperate. Instead, they boycott javajuice and yell slogans for the microcams. What we have to determine is the reason the Cu’ensali feel pushed to an act so extreme.”
“I hate to say this, but you did something,” said Chase, looking at Tara. “Fandango – that’s the sprite that was operating that cage – said that the Matriarch had crushed their hopes.”
“Not necessarily,” said Danak. “We found the cage. It was very similar to the one Esau St. John had used. There’s most definitely a link to CenGov. Considering what you’ve said about Cu’ensali ties to General Panic, it’s possible that Fandango was referring to the 5th Matriarch.”
“Fandango,” said Tara. “Mauve and Puce. What kind of names are those? If I were a terrorist, I’d choose a name like Bloodwulff. Puce doesn’t exactly strike fear into my heart.”
“Driscoll says Bloodwulff is tacky. He says it’s the kind of name a fifteen-year-old boy chooses in a holodungeon.”
“I don’t know. Bladevenom?”
“Driscoll says he’d pick ‘The Denizen.’ It’s ambiguous and vaguely threatening.”
“I think we were having a serious discussion,” said Lord Danak, “at some point.”
“All right. The Matriarch crushed their hopes. But what kind of hopes do sprites have? That’s the problem.”
“That’s what I was trying to find out,” said Chase. “I hope I don’t have to get fucking captured again.”
“It’s getting stale,” said Tara. “I think we need to think this through. I’m going to see the Cantor. She knows more about the Cu’ensali than anyone. Also, I’d better confront her about the MPP. They might not be so, uh, fired up about burning the Cu’ensali if they know they’re playing into the branches of their enemies. You stay here and rest. Stay here. Stay. Understand? Because if I have to pull your wood out of the hibachi again, I won’t be happy.”
*****
We tried our best. We really did. But Chase didn’t stay put, not quite. He went back into the bedroom and stretched, pushing up onto his toes, getting the kinks out of his shins and back, raising his arms over his head and…
Whoops.
« Um, » said Chase. « Sorry about that. »
« It was expected, » said Driscoll. « Not your fault. »
« The light is on in your room, » said Balin. « Do you want to go up and take the tarps off the furniture? »
Chase’s face registered his surprise. Then he grinned. « Yeah, » he said, « yeah, I’d like that. Maybe I’ll have a party later. I’m not sure if it would be a housewarming or a homecoming, though. »
Outside, a hand reached towards the ashtray, picked up the joint of Lammian highweed, lifted it to a nose which sniffed. Then the joint changed into a cigarette.
« Not bad, » said Blackjack. « Are we sure he’s a Goliath emanation? »
« Yeah, » said Suibhne. « Check out the trading card. »
For a moment we adjusted to the environment as seen through his eyes. There was a certain acuity of the senses, but it wasn’t like Valentine, who could analyze the smallest sensation, nor like Quennel, who was constantly evaluating the quality of his surroundings. The sensations seemed to come in waves and to provoke emotional responses, interacting with each other, triggering memories, until the world was a haze of nostalgia.
The emanation drew unhurriedly on the cigarette. He thought no thought; he did not look for a mirror.
« How peculiar, » said Malachi. « The first thing I wanted to know was my name. »
« Well, we all know who he is, » said Driscoll.
« Yes, but let him say it, » said Patrick.
There was a moment of silence.
“Why did you stop talking?” he asked.
« Well, we were waiting for you to say your name, » said Patrick.
“Oh.”
There was a moment of silence. He took another drag on his cigarette.
“But you all know it already.”
« That’s true, » said Patrick. « Actually, that’s unusual. The tradition is that you look in the mirror, and then you say it. »
“But I don’t know it.”
« You will, once you look in the mirror. »
“Oh.”
He exhaled a slow cloud of smoke, staring out the window.
« Don’t you want to know? » asked Mickey impatiently.
“Not really. I’ll never be anonymous again. I might as well enjoy it.”
« So this is what you get when you cross Lorcan and Cüinn, » said Cillian. « It makes a twisted sense. »
Seconds passed.
« If he’s not going to say it, then let’s get back to work, » said Mickey. « Let’s go over every splinter of Chase’s memory to see if we’ve missed any clues. »
But something was bothering me, and Cillian noticed, resting his hand on my arm. « You okay, Ailann? »
Our eyes met. He was genuinely concerned for me, which took me by surprise. Then he grinned, backing away a bit, and I knew he understood; we’d met as equals. He knew all about maintaining a façade of strength, and how a hard shell can hide so many broken pieces.
« What Jaxxon said to Chase was so completely different from my experience, » I replied. « Correct me if I misunderstood, but this Mauve thought that putting me in that nul-chamber would somehow help me? »
« Yeah, » said Mickey. « I got that, too. Maybe he was lying, but it seems a pretty stupid thing to make up. »
« It’s possible that he was claiming that he’d made a mistake to convince us of his goodwill in order to trap us again, » said Tarlach.
« Fandango said that we were insane, » said Dermot. « The truth is that we would be, if we didn’t have our Chosen as a focal point for our attention. Maybe the Cu’ensali thought that if we were put in sensory isolation, we’d return to our natural state? »
« That makes a weird sort of sense, » said Tarlach. « It’s possible that they didn’t understand that being deprived of our Chosen would cause its own problems. »
« Or maybe they specifically wanted us to be cut off from the Chosen, » suggested Quennel. « Remember that human influence seems to be one of the political issues on the table. »
But as much as it pained me to think it, from the mothman’s perspective, I didn’t know which was worse: being cut off from Tara, or being cut off from Atlas.
« They’ve got it backward, » said a quiet voice.
« Ellery! When did you come up here? »
Everyone turned to face him. It had been weeks since he’d last emerged from the swan boat.
Ellery blushed, looking shyly at his feet. He took a deep breath. « We didn’t choose Tara to help with the sensory overload problem, » he said. « Atlas and the nul-being chose Tara together, and that choice made it possible to retain the sensory acuity of the nau’gsh while in our human forms. The force that binds I to I is the same thing that binds all of us: n’aashet n’aaverti – one unified and transcendent purpose. »
« I’m not sure the Cu’ensali are even capable of understanding that, » said Tarlach. « The Cu’enmerengi are independent, but the Cu’ensali seem to avoid interaction. »
« At least with humans, » said Chase. « They don’t seem too impressed by them. Protoplasm that unionized, they said. »
Ellery approached me. « Can I talk to you alone? » he asked.
I followed him into the hall.
« Will you protect me? » he asked.
« In case you hadn’t noticed, lately, I can’t even protect myself. »
« That’s okay, » said Ellery. « Cillian will protect you. But he’s too rough for me. »
« Cillian? »
Ellery nodded. « There are things that you just can’t do, things that need to be done for Tara’s sake. But you try to do them and you break yourself. Let Cillian handle them. Let him protect your compassion, and let your compassion protect me. »
Ellery hugged me, pressing his face into my chest. I could feel my heart pounding in rhythm with his breathing. Then I understood that he was my heart, the heart of Ashtara.
I put my arm around him and brought him back into Daniel’s apartment. Daniel was sitting on the bed next to Evan and Quennel. He smiled at me. Ellery clutched me a bit more tightly, and I suddenly felt to the tips of my smallest twigs how Daniel was the first, the root of everything; although my branch towered in its pride, it had grown from Daniel, a fresh-faced youth whose innocent adoration of Tara was eternal.
I couldn’t be alone. In how many complex ways had I and I evolved to avoid loneliness?
I wasn’t going to cry again, I wasn’t.
I felt Cillian looking at me. His eyes were so sad. « I really didn’t want another war, » he said.
And then Tara came back into ipsissimal suite, our private, reoccurring supernova. Her face registered her surprise that Chase was no longer there. “Oh!” she said. “You must be Darius. We were expecting you.”
He nodded. “It is as you have said.”
« Did I hear that right? » said Cillian. « That little puke got her to fucking name him! »
Only then did Darius allow himself to cross to the mirror on the wall facing the piano. He stared into it for a moment. The first impression was of his eyes, enormous and sad. Then his face came into focus: large, soft features, rich brown hair.
« My brother is even weirder than I am, » said Lorcan. « Do you understand him, Ellery? »
Ellery drew closer to me, trembling a little.
« You don’t have to be afraid of Lorcan, » I told him. « Lorcan understands what it’s like to be hurt. »
Cillian laughed. « Looks like Ailann’s got himself a candy-boy. I’m glad my boy likes it rougher. » He bent slightly to ruffle Callum’s garishly blue-green hair.
« God is the ultimate poppa-bear, » said Callum quietly. Then the whole room burst into laughter.
“Darius,” said Tara, “you’re so quiet. What are you thinking?”
“I’m not thinking. I’m remembering.”
“Remembering what?”
“Everything I can.”
“That’s a lot to remember,” said Tara smiling. “Want a drink? It might help you to forget.”
“It’s important to remember,” said Darius. “When the emanated one accesses the memories of other branches, they become stored in his own branch.”
There was a moment of stunned silence.
« That’s what I call a bombshell, » said Cillian.
« That’s what I call backup storage, » said Cüinn. « Very useful to know considering what’s been going on. Why didn’t we ever think of that before? »
« He’s lyrical and perverse like Lorcan, brilliant and spacey like Cüinn, » said Malachi. « But those traits have combined to form something strange and entirely new. »
“That really is a lot to remember,” said Tara.
“It’s impossible,” said Darius. “But we can get the most important bits.”
“Should I leave you to it?”
“Probably not. It should probably be done at night, while you’re sleeping. While you’re awake, I need to experience you. I can’t let myself be nothing but a shell for the memories of others.”
“What do you remember about me, Darius?”
“Mostly I remember what you will become. Otherwise, remembering you is dangerous. I could track every molecule back to the singularity at the start of this universe.” He looked at her drink. “I remember strawberries.”
“This is vodka and redberri. There are no strawberries in the Domha’vei.”
“You had them on Earth once.”
“I did. How did you know that? I don’t think I ever told…”
“It’s strawberry now.”
“You’re not going to be like Davy, are you?” She glanced at the glass, sniffing.
Darius smiled and looked out the window. “I don’t think anything is obvious,” he said. “Look how the light changes color second by second as the sun begins to touch the horizon.”
Tara sipped her drink. “This really is strawberry! But how did you do that? Oh, I believe that you can replicate it, but you’ve never tasted it.”
“Tell me a story,” Darius said.
“A story,” Tara repeated. She looked at him curiously, not quite sure what to make of him. She took another sip of her drink. “I like strawberries,” she said. “All right. The only story I can think of is one I heard on Volparnu. It was supposed to be a story from Earth. Someone told me it was from Southern Haudenostan, but someone else said no, it was actually an Afrikan story. It’s probably from Volparnu – people there liked to think everything had an ancient provenance, and we all know how much they screwed up their history. Anyway, here it goes. It’s called “The Slickweasel and the AI.’”
“A group of hunters left Fort Frostbane on their way to the Shola Caverns to hunt shy yaklets. That’s the actual name of the animal – the shy yaklet – not just a way of describing their personal qualities. They were nocturnal, and didn’t come out of the caves often, but they had some of the tenderest meat on Volparnu, which isn’t saying much. You’d think they’d be widely hunted, but they weren’t because they were an easy kill, and a man didn’t gain any glory from killing them. So right off the bat, any Volparnian hearing this story would know that the hunters were kind of lame. Just giving you the cultural context there.”
“The caverns were about three days out from Fort Frostbane, so they had to bring camping supplies. On the first night out, their supplies are raided. They wake up to find that half the food is gone. They find tiny tracks in the snow and realize that a slickweasel got into their provisions.”
“The slickweasel is a smart little animal. If this story had been set on Earth, it would probably have been a spider, or a raven, or a rabbit, or a coyote. It’s a trickster story, and the trickster is always a small, quick animal that has to survive on its wits. Well, the slickweasel had eaten half of their food, so there was no way they could go to Shola.”
“Two days later, they’re back – and this time, they brought a rat trap. But the slickweasel is too smart for that. When they wake up, half of their food is gone, and the trap is sprung, but no slickweasel.”
“Two day later, and they’re back with another trap, but the slickweasel avoids it again. By this time, they’re getting upset – they really had a taste for some tender yaklet. So they sit down and try to devise a plan. Then one of them says, ‘Let’s imagine someone was trying to trap one of us. What would ensnare the strongest, bravest, smartest hunter?’”
“All right, here’s the part where I know the story is from Volparnu. The little guy in the back says, ‘Well, we’re all married.’ That line usually brings down the house.”
“So they go back to Fort Frostbane, and this time, they come back with a holographic projector. They set up an image of a lady slickweasel next to the provisions. They know this isn’t going to be good enough because slickweasels don’t go by sight, they go by smell. They spray the site with slickweasel musk, which doesn’t smell like underground orchids. They go one step further – and here’s where we know it’s a made-up story – they hide an AI. Real slickweasels don’t talk. But when this slickweasel comes to steal the provisions, the lady slickweasel starts talking.”
“She says, ‘Oh my, I was going to eat all this good food myself, but there’s enough for two here.’ And she flashes her pert little tail, which I’m told slickweasels think is very sexy.”
“And he says, ‘Let’s have a romantic dinner,’ and reaches a paw to grab her. But she’s only a holo, and his paw passes right through. He says, ‘Honey, don’t be shy,’ and reaches the other paw. He still can’t touch her. ‘You’re a flirt, baby,’ he says, and reaches out both arms to grab her. But he loses his balance and falls flop into the security perimeter, and finds himself in a force bubble. That’s what you get for sexual harassment.”
“The next morning, the hunters are full of glee. They’ve finally caught the damn slickweasel. So the leader says, ‘You’ve eaten all our food. We ought to cook and eat you.’ But the little guy in the back says, ‘Slickweasel is stringy and gamey. It isn’t worth the bother.’”
“Then the leader says, “We ought to lop off your head and put it on a stake as a warning to other slickweasels.’ But the little guy in the back says, ‘That’s too quick. We ought to make him suffer.’”
“Then the slickweasel says, ‘Eat me, decapitate me, skin me alive, but just don’t throw me into the Oil Pits of Torkan.’ If you’re unfamiliar with Volparnu, the Oil Pits are about twenty kilometers away from Fort Frostbane. It’s a place where boiling petroleum oil leaks up through the ice. Everyone avoids it. It stinks like hell, makes the ice slick with oil, and in the oil there’s a certain kind of microbe that eats petroleum products – but it also likes the kind of plastics often used in boot soles and tools. If you get infested, it ruins your equipment. And there’s the added attraction that sometimes the oil catches fire, and there are occasional gas explosions.”
“The hunters looked at each other, and they snickered. So of course they went to Torkan and the leader picked up the slickweasel by the tail, swung him three times around his head and let go in the direction of the pits. The weasel landed in an oil slick and slid into the depths of the bubbling pools. And then the hunters hear a little laughing voice that said, ‘Stupid hunters! Slickweasels live in the oil pits. This is my home!’ The end. Was that okay?”
Darius nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly right.”
« Repatriation, » said Solomon.
« What? »
« Fandango said that Pink repatriated in the first round of immolations. He went home. The Cu’ensali want to go home. And that nul-chamber was the closest thing to home they could devise. That’s why they thought Ailann would like it. »
« Darius was right, » said Davy. « That wasn’t obvious. »