Sheri Tepper - Grass

Brother Lourai looked up, suddenly attentive. “But I have met him!” he exclaimed. “He came to Sanctity. The Hierarch was his uncle. We spoke about the plague. The Hierarch said he must go — come here, that is — because of the horses!”

Tony turned, mouth open, not sure what he had heard.

Brother Mainoa faced Marjorie, reached out to her. “My young colleague has been indiscreet. Acceptable Doctrine denies that plague exists.”

“Mother?”

“Wait. Tony.” She brought herself under control. So. He had found out. Better he than Stella. She turned to the nearest of them, Rillibee. “Brother, what do you know about the plague?”

Rillibee shivered, unable to answer. “Let me die,” the parrot cried from the top of a ruined wall, fluttering its gray wings.

“The boy saw his family die of it,” Mainoa said hastily. “Don’t ask him. Instead, think on this. Elsewhere, something killed the Arbai slowly. I know that here something killed them quickly. I know that men are dying, everywhere, and that no cure exists. So much I know. That, and the fact that Sanctity denies it all.”

Her jaw dropped. Was he saying that the current plague had happened before? “What do you know about it here, on Grass?”

“We at the Friary seem to have escaped it, thus far. What else is there to know?”

“How many have died of it here on Grass?”

He shrugged. “Who can count deaths that may be hidden? Sanctity says there is no plague. Not now. Since they deny plague exists, they do not tell us if anyone dies of it. And, since there is none now, Sanctity finds it expedient to deny that there could ever have been plagues in the past. Acceptable Doctrine is that the Arbai died of ennui. Or of some environmentally related cause. But not of plague. ‘Not only are there no devils now, there never were,’ says Doctrine. Still, those of us who came from outside know that plague did exist, once. And devils, too.”

“You think that devils exist?” she asked with a sidelong look at Father Sandoval, whose mouth was pursed in distaste at this subject. “Have existed always, perhaps? Waiting for intelligent creatures to reach the stars? Waiting to strike them down, for hubris, perhaps?”

“Perhaps.”

“You have not answered. Will you come see my husband?”

He cocked his head again, staring over her shoulder at something only he could see. “If you send a car for me, ma’am, I’ll come, of course, since it would be discourteous to do otherwise You might want to consult me about the gardens at Opal Hill. I helped plant them, after all. It would be an understandable request. If you ask my superiors to send me for any reason, likely they won’t.”

She was silent for a moment, thinking. “Are you very loyal to your superiors, Brother Mainoa?”

Rillibee/Lourai snorted, a tiny snort. Brother Mainoa gave him a reproving glance.

“I was given to Sanctity, ma’am. I had no say in the matter. Brother Lourai, here, he was given, too. And then, when we didn’t like it, we were brought here. We had no say in that, either. I don’t recollect ever being asked if I was loyal.”

Father Sandoval cleared his throat and said firmly, “Thank you for your time, Brothers.”

“And yours, Father.”

“I’ll send a car,” Marjorie promised. “Within the next few days. Will you be here?”

“Now that we’re here, we’ll stay until someone makes us go back, Lady Westriding.”

“How is it, Brother, that you knew who I was, though we had not met before?”

“Ah. A friend of mine has been interested in Opal Hill. Your name came up.” He smiled vaguely. “During our discussion.”

The Brothers watched the aircar leave and then returned to their quarters, where Brother Mainoa took out his journal from a hidey-hole and wrote his comments upon the happenings of the day.

“Do you always do that?” asked Rillibee/Lourai.

“Always,” the older man sighed. “If I die, Lourai, look in these pages for anything I know or suspect.”

“If you die.” The other smiled.

Mainoa did not return the smile. “If I die. And if I die, Lourai, hide this book. They will kill you, too, if they find it in your possession.

Tony heard the word “plague” as he would have heard a thunderclap. The word began to resonate in his mind, causing other ideas to reverberate with them. Plague. One had heard of it, of course. One whispered about it. Sanctity denied there was any. For the first time he wondered why Sanctity had to continually deny something that did not exist. Why had his father gone to Sanctity and met with the Hierarch about plague?

Plague. He had seen no signs of it here. No one even talked of it, here. Tony spent a good deal of time with Sebastian Mechanic down at the village, learning the local way of things, meeting the people, getting to know them, but no one had mentioned plague. Illness, yes. The people had illnesses. Things went wrong with old bones and joints. Hearts wore out. There was very little lung trouble, though. The air breathed cleanly and caused no problems here. There were few if any infectious diseases. They had been wiped out in this small population, and the quarantine officers at the port kept Commons clean.

But plague?

“Mother,” he asked softly, thinking of people he had left behind, of one person he had left behind, “is there plague at home?”

She turned a horrified look upon him, prepared to lie as she had told herself she must. “Yes,” she confessed to his open, waiting face, feeling the words leave her in an involuntary exhalation. “Yes, there is plague at home. And on every other inhabited world as well.”

“Here?”

“Except here. Maybe. We think. We have been told.”

“You’re here to find out?”

She nodded.

“You didn’t tell us?”

“Stella…” Marjorie murmured. “You know Stella.”

“But me, Mother. Me?”

“It was thought you were too young. That you might forget yourself.”

“A secret? Why?”

“Because ..” said Father Sandoval, leaning forward to grip the young man’s arm, “because of the Moldies, the nihilists. If they learned of it, they would try to bring the plague here. And because the Grassians do not care if all the other worlds die. They do not wish to be disturbed.”

“But… but that’s inhuman!”

“It is not fair to say they do not care,” Marjorie murmured again. “Let us say rather that they do not perceive. Various efforts to make them perceive have resulted in nothing but their annoyance. Father Sandoval is right, they do not wish to be disturbed; but there is more to it than that. Something psychological. I should say, pathological. Something that prevents their seeing or attending So we are here under false pretenses, Tony, as ambassador and family. What we are really here for is to find out whether there is plague here. If there is not, we must somehow get permission for people to come here and find why not.”

“What have you found?”

“Very little. There does not seem to be plague here, but we are not certain. Asmir Tanlig is finding out from the villagers and from servants in the estancias whether there are any unexplained deaths or illnesses. Sebastian Mechanic knows many of the port workers, and he is trying to find out the same information from them. The two men don’t know why they are asking the questions. They’ve been told that we’re making a health survey for Sanctity. We need information from the bons, as well, but we seem unable to establish any contact with them beyond the purely formal. We have been trying to make friends.”

“That’s why the reception was held.”

“Yes.”

“Eugenie’s showing up with that girl didn’t help things, did it.”