Mara and Dann (31 page)

‘A runaway slave,' said another, laughing.

Mara sat on a low stool, from which she looked down on these, the golden youth, as they were called, and she thought, When they get into power they'll be just the same as their parents. They think they won't but they will.

‘What do you want of me?' she asked, using the same almost easy camaraderie, which was because they were all young, and at least equals in that.

‘I wonder if you are going to be surprised when we tell you?' said Olec.

‘Try me.'

‘You are going to be my concubine,' said Olec. ‘And you are going to produce children. For me. For us.'

Now, the Hadrons had been a little more successful than the Mahondis with their breeding, but not much. ‘Hadron babies have been dying and we want to be sure of slaves.'

Mara sat thinking, making herself smile, seeming cool and even amused. Then she said, ‘Are you planning a harem of Mahondis? Are you going to capture others? Juba won't like that.'

‘Juba will do as he is told,' said Olec. ‘And you had run away. We didn't capture you from your family.'

‘Why didn't you take Kira? – she ran away.'

‘True,' said Olec. ‘But we knew about Kira. More trouble than she was worth, we decided.'

Here there was a loud, general and genial laugh. This was an all-male gathering. It was with this laugh that they discussed the qualities of the Mahondi women. What were the Hadron women thinking of this scheme?

‘Well, Mara,' said Olec, ‘do you have anything against me? If you don't fancy me, then take your pick.' And she saw how these complacent young men's faces waited, smiling, for her to choose one – they were just like, she thought, a tray of Ida's sweets.

‘There is just one thing,' she said. ‘I am pregnant already.'

At this there was an exchange of looks: first disbelief, then disappointment. And then, discontent. A couple of Hadrons actually got up and went out: this is a waste of time, said the set of their bodies.

Olec said, ‘But Mara, Meryx has never yet made anyone pregnant.'

‘No,' said Mara. ‘But Juba has, several times.'

And now she had to force herself to sit still, smiling, while Olec's eyes seemed to bore into her, travelled all over her, searching her body, her face, her eyes. Then he sat back and sighed, then nodded and even laughed.

‘All right,' he said. ‘Then why are you running away?'

‘Who said I was running away? The Kin know all about it. I'm looking for my brother.'

‘What makes you think you'll like what you find?'

‘How do you know what I'll find?'

‘Your Kulik seems well informed.'

‘Why my Kulik?'

‘He told us you were his sex friend when you were with the Rock People.'

At this Mara was so angry that for the first time she was out of control. She could feel herself going white and cold with anger. She jumped up, stood staring, and it was hard to breathe.

At last she said, ‘It's not true.' She was thinking, If he were here I'd kill him. Then she said, trying to make herself sound crisp and cool, though she was still breathless, ‘You should be careful who you use to do your dirty work for you.'

‘We know he's dealing in drugs,' said Olec. ‘But provided we know when, why and to whom, that's quite useful.'

‘So you think he'll be loyal to you and you can trust him?'

‘If we pay him enough, yes.'

‘If I were you I'd find out who else he is keeping informed,' she said. She meant, the senior Hadrons. She was in command of herself again, and smiled, and said, ‘Are you going to let me go?'

‘What can I say? Of course. Better luck with this baby than some of your others.'

‘We still have three alive and well,' said Mara.

‘Not enough.'

‘Don't trouble to come with me – I do know my way.'

‘But I shall come with you,' said Olec, and he walked with her to where they could see the Mahondi quarters. This was to make sure she was going there. Then he said, ‘See you around,' and she said, ‘I expect so.'

In the courtyard the women sat about in their pretty dresses and sang, and played little games to amuse the babies. Mara thought, They are like cactus flowers, blossoming for a day, and her heart ached.

She changed into a clean robe, a pink one, thinking that she wanted to please Meryx, and then went to Ida to ask if she could visit the looking-wall – that is what it was called. A long time ago some craftsman had covered a whole wall in flakes of bright substance, which was mined in the eastern mountains, so cleverly that they fitted together in a single sheet, and the joins were like a fine net over a surface that reflected what was in front of it. The wall was like still water with a spider's web over it, and here all the women would come to look at themselves. Mara stood there, saw her smooth, shining hair, her smooth, healthy skin, her new breasts, and she thought, No one could say I am ugly now. She tried smiling at herself. The trouble was, her eyes, for she was cursed with seriousness. Big,
deep, serious eyes…She sighed, left the looking-wall and found Meryx in their bedroom. They fell into each other's arms.

Then she asked that all the Kin should assemble that night to hear her. And so, that evening, when the lamps were lit and set about the big room, Mara, with Meryx beside her and holding her hand (like Juba and Dromas; oh I wish it were the same), began to talk.

She could see from Juba's face that he knew what had happened in the young Hadrons' house, and so she began with that. She said she had been kidnapped ‘for breeding purposes' but that she had told a lie: she had said she was pregnant, by Juba. At this Meryx's hand fell away from hers; she knew what a dreadful blow she was dealing him. ‘It's not true, Meryx. I had to get away. I had to say something that would make them let me go.'

‘It's not true,' said Juba to Dromas.

‘It's not true,' said Mara to Dromas, and then again to Meryx, ‘But it's not true.'

Dromas looked closely at her Juba, who nodded at her, smiling, and took her hands and said, ‘Believe me, Dromas.'

But Meryx sat beside Mara, silent and not looking at her, and his face – it hurt Mara to look at it.

Candace said, ‘Begin at the beginning.'

And Mara said humorously, ‘But surely you already know everything?'

‘Not everything. Tell it so everybody knows.'

There were more people than usual that night, twenty or so, all curious.

Mara began with leaving this house, the walk through empty streets, the dying milk beast – which was rescued, she assured them – the waiting chair and its porter, the eating house and the woman proprietor who was obviously expecting her.

‘Not my doing,' said Juba.

‘No, it was the junior Hadrons,' said Mara. ‘They organised it all.' And went on to describe, and now in slow and careful detail, the journey around the perimeter of the Towers, the tunnels, the notices warning of the beetles, the mass of wire that had holes torn in it, the way the chair runner had been appointed to be available for her all day. She dared to take a look at Meryx, but he sat with his face turned away and Mara could see how concerned Dromas was for him, for she watched him, sighing.

Every detail, every moment; until she was kidnapped by Kulik, and
taken to the young Hadrons. There, she told what had been said, but left out that Kulik had lied about her.

When she said that she had told Olec she was pregnant by Juba she could feel how Meryx took the blow as if he had not heard it before.

‘Meryx,' she said, direct to him, ‘it was a lie. I had to. Please believe me.'

He simply sat on, listless, and shook his head as if to say, But it's all too much.

Now people were getting up, about to drift off, and she said, ‘Please don't go. I must say something, I must.' And they sat down again.

And now she began an impassioned plea that they must leave, leave Chelops, while they still could. ‘You can take a lot of food and clothes; it won't be a hardship, as it was for us. Please leave – I don't know why I can't make you see it.' They were looking at each other, doubtful, serious, but she was afraid they were already deciding not to listen.

‘What is happening here is exactly the same as I remember from Rustam.'

‘You were a small child,' said Candace. ‘How can you remember?'

‘I do remember. And this is the same. People leaving. Criminals. The gardens dying. The water going. Less food.' But she thought, But up here it is not so bad. And they don't know how bad things are down there, in the town. They live in this soft little place on the edge of the city  …

Juba said, ‘We have had a bad rainy season.'

‘You told me yourself you have had several poor seasons recently,' said Mara. ‘Majab's emptying now, so the travellers are saying. I heard it in the eating house. There's almost no one left. When we flew over it a year ago there were still people and things seemed not too bad. Then it was like what Chelops is like now. It happens so fast. In the Rock Village we heard that Rustam was empty and filling with sand. The Rock Village must be, by now. The sand is blowing into Majab, so they say.'

A silence now, a worried silence, but restless, people fiddling with their clothes, their hair, not looking at each other then looking, and smiling, wanting to smile it all away.

‘You should make preparations now,' said Mara. ‘Pack everything up. Hire every kind of transport there is left.'

Now Candace leaned forward, and insisted, ‘Mara, it is quite understandable, with your history, that you should be nervous. But it only needs one good season for everything to go back to normal…'

‘No,' said Mara, and Juba backed her up. ‘It will take more than one.'

‘And,' went on Candace, ‘you don't understand something. It doesn't matter to us if everyone in the town leaves. We won't have to feed them – it will be a good thing. We are quite self-sufficient here.'

‘The Hadrons wouldn't let us leave,' said Juba.

‘Then fight them,' said Mara. ‘The militia will obey you, not the Hadrons.'

But she could see from their faces that it was the enormity of the effort they would need that was dismaying them. She thought, All this gentle, lovely living has made them soft. They aren't fit for such an effort. But they have to be, they must be …

And she went on persuading, pleading, begging. Then she had an inspiration, and said to Candace, ‘Draw back the curtain off that map you have there.'

And Candace got up and said, ‘No, Mara. I won't. It's enough for one evening.' Then, to the others, ‘Let's say goodnight, and let's thank Mara for all the information she has given us.'

The company dispersed, and the note of their talk was a subdued grumbling and complaint.

Mara went with Meryx to their room, and she had to persuade him, again and again, that no, she had never mated with Juba, nor ever thought of it, ‘You must believe me!' – and she supposed he did, in the end. But he wept, and she wept, they clung to each other, and they made love again and again. It was the middle of her fertile period. And Meryx said, ‘If you get pregnant tonight, I'll never know if it is mine or Juba's.' And then he said, ‘You make love with me as if you love me, but you are leaving me.'

And she was making love most hungrily: because of the long, frightening day; because of how exposed she had felt, away from the protection of the Kin; because of the dying milk beast, which haunted her, for she knew there must be others; because she was going away from Chelops, and she knew she would leave her heart behind in this place, with these people, with him.

In the morning Juba summoned them all to tell them that a messenger had arrived from Karam, saying two things. First, that the young women working with the milk beasts must stop stealing the milk. If they did it again, they would be beaten. This reminded them that they were slaves. The second part of the message was that four Mahondi girls must
be sent to the young Hadrons. There would be no coercion as to choice. The girls could choose from among the young men. When they were proved pregnant, they could return to the Kin, if they wanted. There was much anger, outrage, protests of ‘But I won't go.' But Karam had said which girls must go, by name, and these choices proved how well the Hadrons knew all their characteristics. The four were the youngest, good natured, and eager to please.

Meanwhile Mara was going to the Towers. Juba had said he would allow her to go only if he sent guards with her. She said, ‘But you didn't insist on guards yesterday.' He said, ‘I didn't know the Hadrons planned to kidnap you.' ‘The Hadrons said Dann was ill. I might have to stay in the Towers to look after him.' Meaning: I know you don't want him here. Juba said, ‘Bring him here.' Which meant Dann had been discussed, and the Kin had decided to indulge her.

Four running chairs arrived. In three were two militia, and there was one in the chair for Mara. He held a knife, and a big club lay beside him.

Now she knew exactly where to go, and they arrived at the tunnel in the south-western quadrant before midday. Six militiamen had been ordered to wait for her, with the chairs, the porters, and their weapons. She wanted to go into the Towers alone, but the man with her in the chair insisted on coming too: Juba's orders, he said.

The two stood hesitating at the entrance to the tunnel. They were afraid, and did not hide it. They did not know how long the tunnel was: a little, round eye of light meant its end. The air coming from it was bad. They were afraid of who they would meet inside it. Mara lit a big torch of brushwood soaked with tallow, and the militiaman took it from her and held it high. Now she was glad he was there. The earth of the tunnel was hard: it had been in use a long time. They passed the yellow carapace of a beetle, killed some time ago, for shards of black and yellow lay about. The torchlight illuminated rough earth walls and a low earth ceiling. There were felted spiders' webs on the ceiling, but these were not the monsters Mara had seen before, just ordinary working spiders, watching from their stations. About fifteen minutes of slow, cautious progress took them out into the air, from where they could look back and see the rusting tangles of the fence, which no longer could keep anyone out. They were right under the six black Towers of the south-western quadrant.