The Children of the Company (14 page)

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Authors: Kage Baker

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #C429, #Extratorrents, #Kat

BOOK: The Children of the Company
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He set down the cup and looked across at Aegeus again, saying in tones of accusation—unbelievable nerve, to
Aegeus!—“
They’re hybrids, aren’t they? This is forbidden!”
Aegeus didn’t bother to reply, but the coldness in his face set and froze. Lewis looked down at the boy curled into himself on the floor, at the girl who had forgotten her anger and was staring, fascinated, at the Roman bronzes. She pointed imperiously.
“Fallon,” she ordered, “make them dance for me.”
Opening his eyes, wide and liquid as a rabbit’s, the boy got painfully to his hands and knees.
“Poor things,” Lewis gasped. “They don’t know what you—”
Then he stiffened and turned to me, terrible question in his eyes. I braced myself, expecting an assault; but he staggered forward and fell, and lay like something discarded on the fine deep carpet.
“Pity,” said Aegeus. “Now we’ve got it all to do again, I suppose.”
“I thought—” I stared down at Lewis, who was neither moving nor, so far as I could tell, breathing. “I thought we were simply going to block his memory again.”
“To be sure. He’s got to be deactivated first, you see?” Aegeus turned Maeve’s face to his own. “Leave the old statues alone, dear.”
“Yes, sir,” I found myself saying. “What will happen to him now?”
“Oh, back to the tank, for further erasure.” Aegeus stepped forward and looked down at Lewis’s sprawled body critically. “I wonder how much we’ll have to obliterate this time. I must take greater care my little monkeys stay in
their cage, in future.” He said this teasingly to Maeve, who dimpled. “Pretty Maeve, can you make Fallon build you something to take away bad dreams? This poor fellow has such bad dreams. You’d like to help him, wouldn’t you?”
“No,” she said impishly. “I want a new dress.” Aegeus laughed at that and she laughed, too, like the tiniest silver bell. The boy was still crawling toward the Roman bronzes, staring up at them with his enormous black eyes.
Labienus turns the page. The next section is a transcript of an interview, one of his own private intelligence forays. What a wreck the old mortal had been, knotted with age, what an old mud-colored thing with his white hair and his network of wrinkles! Unsettlingly like a chimpanzee. He’d had all his wits about him, at least.
I will tell you about Maeve.
Me, you wouldn’t be interested in, for there is nothing extraordinary about my life. My mother had been shamed, was about to drown herself in the Loire when one of the immortal lords spotted her and offered her his protection. This was just before Justinian became emperor of Byzantium, I think, in the time the mortal men reckoned the sixth century after the birth of Christ.
But my mother’s savior was about the usual business of the immortals who work for their Company, which is to walk among mortals and preserve fine and rare things that would otherwise be destroyed by them. The lords and ladies do this, as I understand, because there will come a day in the distant future when men will need the things they have wasted. In that hour the Company will be able to open its strongholds and come to mankind’s rescue, showering down its harvest of their treasures. Who could find fault with such benign masters? Especially as their mercy does not extend to things alone; they save people, too.
Anyway, the mortal girl came with the lord to this mountain, to this ancient stronghold that the immortals call Eurobase One: and some weeks later she died giving birth to me, for she was not strong.
I was strong, but I was not perfect as a child must be perfect to be given eternal life. They were very kind to me anyway, the immortal lords and ladies. I’ve never lacked anything, never gone hungry a day in my life! I was lucky
that I could live with them, and not with the ignorant savages in the mortal world down the mountain.
And they gave some thought to my future, too: I was apprenticed to old Claude, who was an artist, a genius, master of gardens without peer. The lords and ladies themselves said it was a thousand pities he couldn’t be made immortal, but mortal and aging he was. So I was given to him, to climb the high ladders and prune where he directed, and to kneel for hours on the cold earth, planting out hyacinth bulbs where he pointed with his stick. He taught me his art. I was very grateful.
But I don’t know where Maeve came from.
I was sixteen when I saw her first, the little creature with the hair like moonlight. She had got into the pergola somehow, though the gate was locked, and she had tugged her feeble brother after her. They were in there making a mess of the pomegranates, pulling them from the espaliers, bowling them around and breaking them open, scattering the red beads without even tasting them. It was their tiny crazy laughter that called us.
Old Claude was so angry with them, he lost all sense; he was especially proud of those trees. He advanced on them howling curses, waving his stick. The children stopped, staring at him, but they did not run as sensible children would. The boy cowered and sank down, hiding his face, covering his big blind-looking eyes. The girl remained on her feet. She looked at Claude with no fear at all, though his stick was whistling in the air and his eyes were starting out of his head in wrath.
He kept coming, and when I saw that she would not move I ran to put myself between them. I crouched over her and Claude’s stick came whistling down on my back. That only made him more angry, and he beat me with all the strength of his old arm. I didn’t mind; I have a strong back. I said, “Master, the little girl is mad! She didn’t know it was wrong.”
I was mistaken to think this would make him stop belaboring me, because he got in three more good blows before we heard one of the lords laughing.
“Stop! Stop, if you please, worthy Master Claude,” he called, striding down the walk toward us.
It was the lord Aegeus, still chuckling as he surveyed the ruin all about us, the broken branches, broken fruit. The child ran to him and buried her face in his cloak, and he swept her up in his arms, where she looked at us disdainfully.
I knelt at once, but Claude remained on his feet. He took liberties; the lords and ladies allowed it because he was an artist. His back was stiff with his anger. His jowls were flushed red with it. He clasped his shaking hands on the knob of his stick and stared at Lord Aegeus in silence, so that the lord had to speak first.
“Worthy master, my apologies,” said the lord, smiling. He knit his brows at the little girl, pretending to be stern with her. He said, “Naughty Maeve! Look what you’ve done now. Did you spoil this pretty garden?”
And she said, “Oh, no!” though her tiny hands were pink with the juice, and that was the only color to her skin anywhere. She looked like a ghost, she was so white.
Claude made a sharp noise in his throat. I looked over at the little boy, who was still trembling where he lay.
The lord said, “You didn’t? Who was it, then?” And she pointed her finger at the boy and said, “It was Fallon!”
The lord looked as though he wanted to laugh afresh, but he bit his lips and then he said: “Now, you know that’s not true. Poor Fallon doesn’t do things unless you tell him to do them. You’re the one always getting into mischief, little fairy! I want you to apologize to our dear Master Claude for all this mess.”
She dimpled and said, “No!” and Claude shouted: “Most divine Lord, never in seventy-five years of faithful service have I seen such wanton vandalism!” and Lord Aegeus looked at him rather coldly as he said: “Sadly true, Master, for everyone knows the young people of today have no respect for their elders. I can assure you that this child will not misbehave here again, however. Calm yourself! Your boy will clean everything up.” And his gaze turned to me and he said, “Rise, boy. And, please, accept my thanks for moving so quickly! My poor cherubs would have broken like eggshell if your master had landed a blow.”
I rose awkwardly and ducked my head in acknowledgment of the lord’s thanks. I wondered, how could they be his children? The lords and ladies do not beget their own kind, I knew that. They take mortal children and give them immortal life, if the children are sufficiently perfect. But the girl and boy did not look like any mortal children I had ever seen. They were so little and pale, and their eyes were so big.
Anyway Lord Aegeus carried them away, and I cleaned up the mess they’d made.
I saw her sometimes now and then, over the next few years. Sometimes the boy would be with her, though less and less as time went on. There were rumors that he was a genius of some kind, but he never looked well.
She grew up very quickly, and not in the way of being tall, if you know what I mean; she looked like a woman within a few years, with high little breasts filling out the bodice of her gown. She would wade through the beds of annuals picking big bunches of flowers, which drove Claude to distraction, but now that he was aware she was a special favorite of Lord Aegeus he knew better than to complain.
Maybe it was keeping his anger to himself that did for him at last, because he had a stroke when I was twenty. After that I was Head Gardener, and won the title of Master when I devised the three-level topiary walk for the north slope.
The lords and ladies were enchanted with it. They love beautiful things, and they respect artists. Master Simeon by the age of twenty-two! I had all I could ask for in life.
And then I was given more.
When I was summoned to Lord Aegeus’s study, I thought he had some request to make relative to my art, maybe for a new kind of rose or rare fruit. They like such things, the lords and ladies. Lord Aegeus was seated by the fire in his study, and across from him in another chair sat his assistant, the lord Victor. Lord Victor was young as immortals go, not really much older than me, and he looked younger already.
Well, they waved me to a third chair. I sat hesitantly, and another mortal stepped forward and poured wine for me, the same wine the lords themselves were drinking. I thought to myself,
This is what it is to be an artist!
and I bowed respectfully over my cup and said, “Thank you, divine Lord.”
Lord Aegeus said, “Quite welcome,” with a wave of dismissal. He was staring at me in an assessing kind of way, and so was the other lord. I kept a humble silence, as Claude had kept his insolent silences, and it worked: Lord Aegeus cleared his throat and said at last, “Well! You’ve certainly grown into a sturdy fellow since that day in the pergola. You were only Master Claude’s boy then. And you’re the master yourself now, are you not? What’s your name?”
I told him it was Simeon and he laughed out loud, and the Lord Victor smiled thinly. Lord Aegeus said:
“Simeon! That’s appropriate, I must say! Up in the treetops all the time, and
as hairy as a monkey, too! But come, don’t take offense. All your tests show you’re a supremely healthy young simian, and quite a bright one at that.”
I murmured my thanks for the compliment. Lord Aegeus said, “Quite,” and had a sip of his wine. Then he said, “You’ve had a few sexual encounters, but you don’t seem to have formed any long-term relationships. In light of that, we would like to make you a proposition.”
I didn’t know what to think. He burst out laughing at the look on my face and Lord Victor turned red.
“No, no!” said Lord Aegeus. “It’s only this, good Master Simeon: my dearest Maeve must have a mate, and we’ve chosen you for the honor.”
I just said “Oh,” feeling as though I had been struck over the head. He went on: “It should have been Fallon, but he passed away, poor creature. Pity. Still, we learned a lot from him; and dear Maeve is wonderfully vigorous. We have great hopes of her. Now, you needn’t be nervous! She may look like a child, but I can personally attest that you won’t have to teach her a thing.” He grinned broadly and Lord Victor stared down at the floor.
I had a gulp of wine and nerved myself to ask him, “But—if she’s your favorite, divine Lord—won’t you mind?”
“Mind? Good heavens, no. She’s a charming girl, but she is a mortal, as you are. She certainly can’t bear me children. I’ll admit I’ll miss our golden afternoons, but the plain fact is, she ought to be bred while she’s in her prime.” He said the last leaning forward, holding my gaze in a matter-of-fact way.
I said, “I didn’t think she was mortal, exactly,” and he said: “All too mortal, I regret to say. And human enough for you. But we need very much to see if we can produce something more human still, and so—wedding bells for Maeve.”
For a moment nobody said anything, and then Lord Victor cleared his throat.
He said to me, “Does this offend you?”
And I said, “Oh, no, divine Lord,” and Lord Aegeus said, “Of course he isn’t offended, good sensible solid fellow that he is. Besides, you’re rather a romantic choice, I think.You were her knight-errant, once upon a time in the pergola. Yes, throwing yourself between my baby darling and the wrath of Claude. Oh, that’s good,
wrath of Claude!”
Lord Aegeus turned laughing to the other lord, who didn’t seem to think much of the joke.
I was thinking about Maeve with her tiny perfect face, with her moonlight
hair, with her big liquid eyes and silvery laugh. I thought about the bodice of her gown. I told myself that it really would be a great honor to be awarded such a wife. I said, “But will she love me?” and the Lord Aegeus assured me, “She can be quite affectionate, my friend. You’ll treat her well, of course—she has never been treated otherwise—and really she doesn’t require much. Flattery, presents, a sense of romance. In addition to the obvious physical attentions,” and he almost leered as he said it. That was a disconcerting thing, seeing a divine lord with such an expression. They look so wise and noble as a rule.

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