Missing Elements (The Lament Book 3) (21 page)

He shook his head at that, but
didn't comment. Not until she was starting to walk away.

"That Walden... He's not
right, is he? I mean, I've seen players before, but that boy takes it a bit too
far, most days. I saw him hit on a woman four times his age without batting an
eye, more than once. There have to be rules for things like that. Otherwise...
Well, I imagine he'll learn eventually. They all do."

She didn't know about that, but
hadn't had a problem with the kid either. If he'd done more than be helpful to
anyone, she hadn't seen it for herself, had she? Unless she was blocking it all
out? That was possible, given who she was and her past.

Walking up the last stairs, the
man, Darnel, following along close behind, she stopped at the floor boy's desk
and mentioned the need for a constant stream of food and drink that day.

Rather than suggest it wasn't his
job, the boy smiled, happily.

"Great! I'll get with the
kitchen and set that up. Should I come by... Call it twice an hour? Or... Maybe
every fifteen minutes? That would work better, I think. I already have wood out
for the day, so that won't be a problem. I need to get everyone else their
morning meals, of course. Would you two like something right now? I'm heading
that way." It was a bit casual, but Pran didn't mind, since she was no
better than the boy, but she did have to wonder if she should caution him about
the people coming in.

When she mentioned that to
Darnel, wondering if it was too casual for his people, the man coughed, and
pretended to be choking a little.

"You think that any of us
will be that worried about things like protocol? The people of now are much
more polite that way." He gave her a sidelong glance, and then rolled his
eyes. "By that I mean you're all far more concerned about
seeming
correct. Proper, and like you're setting people at ease. As long as they aren't
too different, at least. We used to have a lot more variety, as far as people
went. Green hair, strange clothing and a thousand other things. It was a sign
of our world really. We had so much, so many resources, that we could all
afford to do things the way we wanted, far more often than not."

The man seemed a little bemused
by the idea, not sad for what had been lost. It sounded wasteful to her, but
she didn't mention it. That was, most likely, just a basic difference that they
had. To people like this man it seemed fine to waste time and energy on
everyone
having strange hair, or bright colored clothing. The idea even sounded dazzling
to the Bard in her soul.

For a moment she had a vision of
a world like that, where every cart man on the street wore festival clothing
each day, and painted his face like a performer. Every woman would dress like a
High Councilor and each meal would be a feast of the finest foods, all the
time.

Rainbows would dance and birds
would never soil the places they landed either. If she was dreaming anyway,
there was no harm in doing it well.

The idea faded as she got into
the main office. In the here and now that she knew, they needed a fire, because
otherwise the day would be a tiny bit chilly. Opening the door to the other
room, she started in on that. That was so she could let the heat travel and
warm the clay up a bit. Cold clay was hard to work with, and while she was
going to be doing detail work, if she got a chance that day, not trying to form
large pieces, it would still be easier if things were a little bit pliable.

Looking through the door, the man
waved at her sculpture and then took a few steps in that direction.

"That's not bad. I like the
flow of the robes. Is that your Bard Clarice's work?"

It made sense to ask that, she
thought, given that a High Bard had to be pretty good at things.

"That's one of mine. I need
to do the detail work on it still. Bard Clarice normally sings. She's one of
your people?"

"She
is
? I... Hadn't
heard about that. We tend to compartmentalize things, so that if one of us is
captured we can't be forced to tell about too many others. Are... you one of
us? If so, I missed your name?"

"Pran. Bard Pran, though I
was an Apprentice last week. I'm just me."

"Well, that seems to be more
than enough for today, doesn't it? Just getting this meeting together is
impressive. I don't think anything like it has been attempted for... Nearly
seventy years now. The last time, if I recall that correctly, rather ended
badly. The meeting was attacked by Firmament forces. This one probably will be
as well. You know about them?'

Shaking her head, Pran moved back
toward the other room, her face blank. That hadn't even occurred to her before.
She'd simply assumed that the Guardians had killed the tech people, over and
again, and
that
was what kept stopping them from making inroads. That
their own people had been doing it too, was...

Predictable, if she thought about
it.

"Not much. Bard Clarice
mentioned that they were the people that didn't think the world could change?
Something like that?"

The words got a slow nod, as
Darnel sank into one of the soft chairs. Then he steepled his fingers in front
of his chest. He still had his hat on, but after a bit he took it off, holding
it, rather than setting it down anywhere.

"That's one way to look at
it. It would be closer to the truth to say that they're the ones that nearly
killed us all. We had loads of scientific information, studies that showed the
world was getting warmer, but the big oil and coal companies managed to
convince the devoutly religious Christians that it was all a lie. It didn't
matter that everything
else
showed they were wrong, once they caught
that idea. The truth would come out, and they'd spin it to their own devices
without waiting for common sense to kick in. They managed to slow down any
action that might have helped until it was far too late. Really, we should have
left them all to die and not taken any of them into the System with us."
Making a face, he looked at the door, even though no one was there.

He was clearly thinking about
things. Old ones. When he spoke again his words were a little sad sounding.
Slow and just a bit thick, like it was something that would have made him cry
at some point.

"We did though, because we
thought that no one could hold to a bad idea like that, after the real problems
started. Vast storms, droughts, and things just being too warm, in a lot of
places. We were wrong. Never underestimate the power of a closed mind, when it
comes to holding to what they believe to be true. Since then, they've fought
the rest of us, off and on, trying to bring back the world that they killed. To
finish the job, I guess. They won't put it that way, but... Well. I guess you
could say I'm not a fan of that sort of person."

"The religious?" She
wasn't one of them, but didn't have a problem with them either really. The
Keepers
had been horrible people, but it wasn't their professed beliefs that made them
that way. Even if they were Christians too. They were evil because their will
had broken, nothing else.

"Oh, no. I'm a Christian
myself. A lot of us in the System believe in God. No, I mean
fools
. I've
never suffered them lightly. Using your beliefs as a reason to ignore reality is
just an excuse to do the wrong thing. Science and God do not have to be
separate or mutually exclusive. The Firmament however, as a group, reject even
common sense, if it doesn't serve their beliefs in the moment. It isn't their
fault of course. We coddled them, back in the day. We let them pretend that
their opinion was as valid as anyone else's. They'd spout off with nonsense and
the rest of us would smile and nod as they patted each other on the back
instead of calling them on their silliness. That was a thing back then,
claiming that all people were equal in all things. It isn't true, and doesn't
work. The idea behind it was meant to be
noble
however, not just silly. We
wanted everyone to be treated with respect. They
ran
with it however.
All the way off the field. That didn't work too well in the end."

She thought about it, not certain
that she had much to add to what was said. Of course not all opinions were
equal. Some people were
morons
, after all. Others were well studied in
their fields and were more likely to be correct about some things than others
were, as well. For instance,
she
was better able to tell a person about
playing an instrument or sculpting than, say, a miller might be.

A mill Master was going to know
more about his own craft than she ever would however, or even his own
Apprentice. The idea of everyone thinking that they were a Master of every
field and craft seemed insane. It was probably that she didn't understand the
idea well enough, rather than a whole people having thought that. Talk about a
thing that would lead to ruin...

Which, she had to allow,
did
seem to be what had happened.

They didn't have lessons about
that time, did they? Even in school, they didn't talk about the history of the
world back then. That there were people, and a collapse,
that
was part
of things, certainly. That they'd made mistakes and that balancing energy use
was important was too, but never any specifics. Not from before the founding.

The day that Michael Morse laid
down the laws that governed the whole world. They were meant, she guessed, to
protect them all, but from
what
had never really been clear. Apparently
the answer was about keeping them from being self-centered idiots that thought
they could do no wrong?

It was a funny thought, since no
one would really act that way, would they? The man with her was probably just
making fun of her, claiming what he had.

Just as she was about to mention
that, and call him on his game, their food came. It was a full plate each of
wonderful maple sausage and eggs, with tiny pancakes that had honey on them as
well as butter. She savored hers, eating too fast, but slower than normal.

Nix, the scientist, just ate,
pointing at his plate about halfway through the meal.

"This is good. I haven't
eaten this well since I returned to the world this time. Do you know that when
I was a boy, the first time I mean, before everything fell apart, that this
kind of thing could be had by almost anyone, with only a few moments notice? It
wasn't a perfect world, but we did food decently well. In fact, so well that
being overweight was an actual health problem for many people. Can you imagine
that? Even in the poorest places people had gotten fat. You don't see a lot of
that anymore do you? Everyone is trim now, more or less." The words didn't
kill his appetite, it seemed, but did make her wonder about what his people
really wanted for the world.

Finally, she just asked him.

He sat for a long time, eating
slowly, but finally started to nod his head.

"Honestly? I think we want
to make up for what we did to you all. You don't see this world for what it is
really, because you don't know that it could be different. You live a life that's
hemmed in and controlled in almost all ways. For instance, what would happen if
you wanted to become a baker, instead of a Bard?" He looked at her and
waited, as if expecting a real answer to his clearly rhetorical question.

"I'd fail at it. I don't
know how to bake, and no one would teach me how, since I'm
not
a baker.
Not past how to do a little for myself anyway. I don't know how to do that,
because I didn't have a mother to teach me, but it just wouldn't happen. I'm a
Bard. I tried to become a Guardian for a bit, and I was too old to really learn
the skills. I imagine it would be like that." Kind of at least. There were
special baking skills that she didn't know about, no doubt.

"That. Right there. Not that
you don't know how to bake, but that you've been told and taught not to even
try
new things. People can be more than that, Pran. More than their lessons and
upbringing. When I was a child I dreamed of going to the moon one day and walking
on the surface. What do you dream of? What calls to your secret heart?"

She almost told him that nothing
did, but it wasn't really true, was it? There in the center of her being was a
thing that she carried along with her all the time.

"Surviving. I want to live.
That probably isn't what most girls my age would want really, is it? I don't
dream of a family, or even fame. I want, more than anything, to keep going on.
I get what you mean, I think. None of us dream of the
moon
. I... can't
even imagine why you ever would have. Few ever even think of traveling much, or
heading to different parts of the world. Bards
can
travel, but the goal
for most of us is to stay in one place, and have a position of relative
comfort. A warm fire and a good roof, an audience to entertain regularly...
Simple things, really. A nice outfit or two, for the stage."

Darnel Nix, the man from another
time, closed his eyes.

"Yes. Like
that
.
Exactly that, in fact...
We
did that to you Pran. Michael Morse, me,
all
of us. We crippled and hobbled your dreams in order to fix a mess that you
didn't make. We made hope into a drab thing that lacks color and spark. The
goals of this current world are tiny, compared to what they
might
be." There was a long breath, loud and through the nose, before he
continued on. "All in order to fix the wrongs of a past we stole from the
future. We made you all into creatures that want little more than to live for
another day. So that a world that was broken beyond what we had the will to fix
could be repaired. It's worked, however, and the time has come for us to repay
you for the sacrifices that you've made. What we
want
for you all, is to
make it possible for you all to have
hope
again. The idea that, if you
try hard enough, long enough, perhaps you can be more than what society has
pre-planned for you."