The Judas Rose (61 page)

“Nazareth, this must never happen again. I mean that.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“If you had come to me and explained what you wanted to do,” he said, humoring her, and taking pleasure in the humoring, “I would have told you no. For many many reasons, not the least of which is that you women are far too busy to take on popularization projects of that kind. Not to mention that it was a disrespectful piece of mischief—the priests are poor excuses for men, but they are men nonetheless, and no doubt many of them, as you say, do a great deal of good. But Nazareth, most of all I would have told you no because the idea was a waste of time, with not a hairbreadth's chance of succeeding. I'm glad you weren't stopped, because it's tremendous that you women managed to lead a whole church round the barn like you did—but I would have stopped you if I'd known. I suppose you had some notion that if you could get other women to speak the language it would be helpful to them, didn't you? Yes . . . I see you did. That's very touching, and very generous and kind, and very romantic—but Aunt Natha, it's also ridiculous. Women outside the Lines aren't interested in languages! They are interested in their clothes and their houses and their clubs and their husbands and their children—period.
May
be—on a good day—they are interested in their gardens. Their heads are as empty of any other thought as an egg is empty of beefsteak. It was such a
hopeless
project, Nazareth! So foolish. . . . I am a little surprised that you
encouraged it, frankly. Is it possible, Nazareth, that you really
are
getting old?”

She shook her head, and sighed again, and looked helpless and distracted, and he told her not to worry about it any more. Not to
ever
consider doing such a thing again, and not to let the details of the Church's current quandary go past this room—but not to worry about it. And she left him sitting there thinking what a dear old thing she was, and in a mood that meant a pleasant day for one and all.

In her bed, allegedly “taking a little nap,” Nazareth carefully considered the status of the plan point by point and decided that she in fact did not
need
to worry, although her serenity of mind wasn't precisely what Jonathan had been envisioning. She was sorry that the dying nun had become frightened and talked, because it was a complication—and because she must have suffered over it. But it was bound to happen eventually, and Nazareth had expected it for years; it was astonishing that it hadn't happened sooner, in fact. And it wasn't serious, not now.

The tiny cells of Láadan within the convents were everywhere now, not only on this world but on colony worlds, and they were sheltered by women who knew how to nurture the language and who loved it enough to speak it and to teach it. For priests to be out searching for it, and with any luck finding it, thus putting themselves in the constant company of women who were being shaped by the language, was excellent. It was doing the men of the Lines enormous good, and it would be good for the priests as well. If they caught a nun or two, it would make no difference; the language had spread too far to root out. For all the technological marvels of this society, its men had not yet devised any way to put toothpaste back into its tube. Nazareth would in fact send out a message that a few sisters here and there might want to allow themselves to be “caught” at reasonable intervals of time. Just enough of them, and all of them too deeply repentant to bring down any punishment of consequence; it would lull the men of the Church and keep them from becoming excessive in their vigilance.

After all, hadn't it now been proved beyond all question that the language was no threat? It had been a
fad
, pushed by the forces of the media, waved in the public eye, taken up by the very best people, scholarly articles written about it by the most distinguished old puffballs—it had had everything going for it. And it had still failed dismally, no? Vanished! Evaporated! Who could be afraid of such a phantom as that?

Meanwhile, Láadan would spread; the tiny wild vine wreaths, unnoticed by anyone, would go up on wall after wall. It would continue to keep the women of the Lines, and all the women who knew it beyond, immune to the state of violence that the men struggled with so incessantly; it would continue to provide the women with the patience necessary to bring the men
out
of those endless loops of violence always begetting more violence. The day would come when they would have a war, and all of the men would look at each other and laugh and just go home.

Nazareth had no more intention of trying to explain to the other women how that would happen, or what the principle of resonance had to do with the price of eggs, than she had had all those many years ago of explaining to them what it meant to really
believe
that language can change reality. They would find out, in good time, long after she was gone; she was too tired to hurry that process or to wrangle with them about it, even if there were any reason to think that might be useful. They would have her diaries, full of casseroles and desserts and intricate soups and sauces ready for decoding; let them read about it there, with her safely out of range of all their argument.

In a while, Láadan would move out among Protestant and other women as well as Catholic, because the easing of the prejudice against the “Lingoes” was at last beginning to heal the split between them and the rest of the world. Soon women of the Lines and other women would be mingling freely again, whether the government approved of that or not; soon, there would be non-linguist women coming to the Womanhouses as friends, and bringing their children along with them to be friends, too. They would hear Láadan spoken there, not just in church services and set pieces, but as common everyday language. And the little ones, both boys and girls, would pick up the language as effortlessly as they picked up any other language, and use it among themselves.

Nazareth closed her eyes, thinking that after all she
might
sleep a little, and smiled at the ceiling. If she lived long enough, she would be so interested to see what they were going to be like—the first human men who had learned Láadan as infants and toddlers. It might make little difference, or no difference at all; on the other hand, it might make a difference worth rejoicing over, and the chances were good enough to make that the
likely
outcome.

We never dared teach our male children, she thought; it would have alerted the men to things they were better off not noticing. It was always “just for girls,” and peer pressure has kept it that
way without much effort on our part. But out in the world, and out in the colonies, it would be different. The little ones would be enchanted to have a “secret language” to play with and to share. Bless the children.

She wouldn't live long enough to see it all happen, but she didn't mind; it was enough to have lived to see it all begin. And so she drifted into sleep, at peace. No plan is one hundred percent successful; no woman expects any such thing. But this plan was moving along at a satisfying seventy-five percent, more than adequate for the purpose. A jog here, a jog there—the occasional dropped stitch that let you know it wasn't the work of a machine, and no harm done. She was more than willing to settle for that.

EPILOGUE

TO: The Council of the Consortium

FROM: XJH
_i

SUBJECT: The problem of Earth

NOTE: This paper has been prepared in response to the COTC's annual resolution condemning the practice of perpetual surveillance over the planet Earth and its colonies, and to the annual proposal that XJH
_i
at minimum begin reform of that practice by reducing the number of live observors in place within Earth's territorial boundaries. XHJ
_i
must once again respond by requesting that the COTC decide upon an
alternative
solution to the Terran problem; until such an alternative is available, institution of reforms is not possible. XHJ
_i
respectfully directs the attention of the Council to the attached position statement, which summarizes the situation and appeals—once again—for immediate action rather than a new series of delays. END NOTE.

The decision of the COTC to intervene in the evolutionary development of the planet Earth by providing aid on a limited basis was not made on impulse. It was based upon a set of alarming and inescapable facts. As follows:

       
1.
  
It had become obvious that the Terrans were on the point of moving out into space whether we intervened or not, making it necessary that
some
action be taken.

       
2.
  
Although Terran males remained at that stage of evolution in which violence is a primary drive of the organism, there were hopeful signs; a small but significant percentage of the males, although quite naturally unable simply to bypass this stage, had become aware that it was undesirable and were beginning to work toward the goal of going beyond it.

       
3.
  
The majority of Terran females
had
moved beyond the stage of violence still gripping the males. (This is consistent with the general pattern of the species, in which development toward maturity proceeds somewhat more rapidly in females than in males, and was to be anticipated.)

       
4.
  
Unfortunately, the result of #2 and #3 above was not, as might have been hoped, a stable cultural environment in which the evolutionary lead of the females spurred the males to close the gap. On the contrary. The male majority reacted to this gender difference
with
violence! Why this should have been the case is a matter of considerable controversy. The Terran males claim to have scientific evidence that the females are of an intelligence inferior to theirs; if they are correct, it is possible that this accounts at least in part for the failure of the females to function as effective models for the males. Whatever the explanation, however, by 11,302 one thing was certain: the females of Earth (together with the more advanced males viewed by their peers as effeminate and weak) were literally in danger from their male counterparts. The lack of developmental synchrony between the two genders of the species, which up to this time had been of no particular concern, now manifested itself as a difference so extreme that it placed a radical strain upon the entire Terran cultural fabric.

       
5.
  
The weapons systems developed by the Terrans had reached a stage acutely dangerous not only to Earth but to its neighbors as well. Although we had ample measure for neutralizing the effects of these weapons systems when given advance warning of their use, a number of Consortium worlds would have been totally vulnerable to them if surveillance had not been maintained. (In this regard, XJH
_i
would be most grateful if the Council members would explain how the safety of those endangered worlds could have been ensured
without
invading the privacy and violating the sovereignty of Earth!)

       
6.
  
In 11,303 the problem was placed on the COTC agenda for formal discussion. The ensuing debate was characterized by what could almost be described as
earthly
vehemence, and resulted in a series of paradoxes that were not given the attention they deserved. Debate ended when it became clear that only three courses of action were open to us:

            
A. We could put an end to the matter once and for all by eliminating the planet, in its entirety, from the universe.

            
B. We could place Earth under complete quarantine, with
constant surveillance maintained to guarantee that its activities would have no effects beyond the borders of its own atmospheres, and leave it to work out its difficulties independently.

            
C. We could interfere in Terran evolution, minimally, in the hope that with our guidance Earth could be kept safe long enough for the males to reach the end of the violent stage and for balance to be restored.

Not one of these alternatives allowed the Consortium to maintain its own ethic of nonviolence—hence the paradoxes. Alternative A was not given serious consideration, although logic required that it be included in the debate. The focus of controversy, from the beginning, was on the choice between Alternatives B and C.

To implement B was, on the surface, ethically preferable; we would have left the Terrans to settle their own affairs, and would have confined our interference to that absolute minimum necessary to preserve the physical safety of our citizens. (That is, we would essentially have continued the policy we had been maintaining up to that point, without change.) But there were serious problems with that choice. For one thing, it meant abandoning the female population of Earth and some percentage of its males to an inevitable period of great suffering, the length of which we could not even estimate. This did not seem an admirable act on the part of the consortium of cultures allegedly more highly evolved than those of Earth. None of the logically accurate analogies drawn between this plan and the inevitable discomfort of necessary medical procedures lessened its obvious cruelty. There was also a strong feeling within the Council, especially on the part of the more conservative members, that Alternative B was nothing more than a disguised version of the unacceptable Alternative A; that is, it was highly probable that the violence of Terran males would result in the total destruction of the planet and its colonies long before the evolutinary gap between the genders could be resolved. (A number of moving speeches were made in which B was compared to standing fastidiously by while a child was devoured by some wild animal, for no other reason than the preservation of one's own ethical self-image.)