Barry Longyear - Enemy Papers

"Yes."

Leaning back in its chair, Estone Nev’s gaze turns inward. "When my sibling was stranded on this planet during the war, it was Davidge who delivered and reared Zammis’s nameparent, teaching it the Jeriba line and The Talman, eventually standing with Zammis before the family archives, seeing his charge take on the robes of adulthood. Ever since, it has been the fate of every child on this estate to be subjected by its elders to this glow of adulation for Willis Davidge. As a result, by the time a child is old enough to be placed in Uncle’s care, it is thoroughly encrusted with wonderment regarding this illustrious savant with whom it is to learn its line and Talman, and prepare for the rites." Zammis grins. "As his very first task, Uncle has taken it upon himself to blast off his new student every last crumb of this wonderment. We call it the bath. "

They then regale me with stories of the baths taken by various members of the Jeriba and Estone lines, as well as the lines of several of the Jeriba estate’s servants. In all, the human had reared and prepared for adulthood forty-one children. Jeriba Haesni, currently in the cave eating its smoked snake, is his forty-second.

After a while, the conversation turns to other things. Estone Falna, now having completed its post-doctorate studies and residency, is now qualified to administer to humans, the human in the cave being of particular focus. Falna smiles at me as it explains, "Although Friendship’s population contains many species, humans are only a small minority; perhaps eleven percent."

"Medical care for humans," interrupts Ty, "is therefore less than it could be. We have always worried about Uncle falling ill, the only help available being inadequate. Falna wanted to improve the odds."

"Uncle is sixty-three standard years old," continues Falna. "Earth’s medical wisdom suggests that the human should slow down."

"Falna, have you brought the new skis Uncle asked for?" asks Ty,

"I brought them. So much for slowing down."

"Skis?" I ask.

Zammis explains that it is a winter sport he tried first when on Earth fifteen years ago. It involves clipping slippery boards onto one’s feet and sliding down the side of a steep, snow-covered mountain. Zammis brought the sport, an instructor, and the equipment back to Friendship, and Uncle fell instantly in love. After some searching, Zammis and Uncle Willy found in the mountains above the estate a valley protected from the winds where they had a towing arrangement rigged that would pull them to the top of one of the mountains. The sport grew from there until there are now eight ski areas on the planet and a ninth planned.

While I ponder this improbable recreation, Zammis asks Ty about the estate’s agricultural preparations for Friendship’s short growing season, and the conversation fades into seeds, fertilizers, composts, cultivation and a fog of other things I do not understand.

As they talk I think again about Ty’s words to me earlier, that I am here because of the truths of Zineru. It still embarrasses me to admit my ignorance of Zineru’s story in the midst of this assemblage of Talman scholars. I leave the table, go to my rooms, and settle into a very comfortable couch to read my Talman ,

I work the catch, drop the cube from its cover, and pull the paging pin. Turning to the Koda Sinuvida, I squint as I attempt to read The Story of Zineru. The writing is very small, and I could struggle my way through it if I needed. Such is unnecessary. I have Davidge’s English translation in big, paper book type. I clip my Talman back into its holder and retrieve my copy of the translation and settle back in the couch.

In the translator’s notes I read that the Koda Sinuvida was the last of the books of The Talman written on Planet Simile. The next hook was written in space on the generation ships that eventually settled Draco. Zineru wrote its book in a much earlier era, a time of sea-going ships and military denve armed with swords, spears, clubs, and arrows. There were also athletic competitions between different denve, different cities, and different schools.

As Maltak Di used to use puzzles and illusions to teach its students, Zineru used games, athletic events. Zineru’s passion was the multiplicity of truth: the many meanings of truth and truth’s many kinds and forms. Its favorite lesson was to have its students take a game and study it, applying all of the lessons of talma, to devise a means of winning through superior theory.

The students would study, interpret, and explore the reduced extremes of all of the rules, the plays, even the conditions of the land and weather where the contest was to be held. They would study the physical form and determine how best to utilize players in running, throwing. and so on. They would work out their new plays, devise their strategies, assign the best of themselves to the various positions, and then they would inform Zineru that they were ready to play.

The Jetah would then employ the least successful team of nonprofessional kovah players it could find and set this team against its students. Without fail Zineru’s students would be annihilated, and the Jetah would tell its battered theorists the lesson: "The learned student has much to contribute to the game. However, the hard truths, the ones that cannot be manipulated, will be told to us by the players. The players have seen and felt the metal; the students have only theorized about it."

Zineru’s truths.

The work of the Talman masters has much to contribute to the peace of Amadeen, but the hard truths, the ones that cannot be manipulated, will be supplied by the Mavedah killer, Yazi Ro. The masters have only theorized about war. Yazi Ro has walked in the blood.

I think of the offer made by the captain of the Tora Seam. My account has enough to get me back to Draco and from there it is only a matter of waiting for the ship. It would be work. Could I stand circling around Amadeen, though, while the ship is at the orbiter? Could I stand it if in my head there is the slightest doubt about the futility of the peace talma? Could I do that knowing in the dust and blood of Amadeen there is a child looking up at my reflection, cursing me for not taking the chance to end the horror?

I get up from the couch and walk to the transparent wall of the room that looks out upon Friendship’s night. There are shielded lights below me, illuminating the house with a faint golden glow. Beyond the lights the wind-torn landscape is dark, the silhouette of the point standing out indistinctly against the whiteness of the ocean’s foam.

I wonder what would happen if the pieces of a picture puzzle found out that the picture they are supposed to make is different than the one they intended to bring into being. Would the pieces go ahead and make the new picture, not knowing for certain how it will look, or would they rebel and make no picture at all?

I decide to talk to this puzzle’s other piece in the cave. I go down to the main hall and find that the others have retired. A servant, Mizy Untav, helps me on with my coat and boots. It insists, as well, that I wear eye and face coverings to protect me from the increasing winds. Once I agree, it asks "Will you be wanting a guide, Yazi Ro?"

"No. I know the way."

"A hand light, perhaps? The footing in the dark can be treacherous."

I nod. "A light would be sensible. Thank you."

With the light attached to the back of my left glove, my hood up and my coat sealed, I step out into the night winds of Fyrine IV. As I lean against the wind and begin my trek toward the cave, I realize that the retainer who clothed me with such concern about my welfare is the child of Mizy Kinasu, the student of Davidge’s the others mentioned who traveled across the quadrant to become a monk in a strange, demanding religion on a strange and frightening planet: Earth.