Gene Wolfe - In Green's Jungles

"Good girl!"

"So he married us with two other patres for witnesses, and everybody kissed the bride." She smiled. "That night wasn't like the other times at all, only when I went to sleep I dreamed about Fava."

I nodded. "Was it unpleasant?"

"No. It was nice. I was little again and we played with dolls and things like we used to, only she wasn't…"

"An inhuma."

"That's right. When I first met her, Incanto, I thought she was just a little girl like me, and in my dream that's what she was. I kept thinking how could I have been so wrong about her? The next night it was the same thing, and the night after that one. I don't mean we did the same things or said the same things, only it's been me and Fava playing every night. I have other dreams, too, but one is always playing with Fava. It's nice, I like the dreams, only I think something must be wrong."

"I believe that something must be right, Mora."

"You don't think it's dangerous some way?"

"I doubt it," I said. "Also, I envy you. I would like very much to be a small boy again in my dreams. I'd give a great deal for that, if I had a great deal to give." Which was nothing less than the truth.

She nodded thoughtfully.

"Do you want me to stop the dreams, Mora? I may be able to, if you wish it; but I warn you now that I won't be able to restore them, should you want them to return. If I try to stop them and succeed, they will be gone forever. Do you understand?"

She nodded again, her face solemn.

"Consider well, but you must make your decision quickly. I won't be here much longer." Seeing her expression, I added, "Oh, I'm not going to die, or at least the gods haven't told me that I am, and I've been talking with a goddess in my own dreams almost every time I sleep. I only mean that since the war's over or nearly over, I'm going home. I should also warn you that these dreams may cease sometime of their own accord."

She straightened up, squaring her shoulders. "If you don't think they're dangerous, I'm going to keep having them as long as I can."

"Good girl!"

"That's wise, I believe. You had a very short childhood, and you were eager to leave it behind you, I know. I'm happy to see that the Outsider, who is far wiser than either of us, has found a way to prolong it." I fell silent, fingering my beard.

Mora inquired, "What's the matter?"

"You liked Fava, didn't you? Even when you knew what she was."

Mora nodded. "She was the only friend I had. But even if I'd had dozens of others, I would have liked her the best."

"You will never see her again, outside dreams."

"She's dead? You didn't kill her, did you, Incanto?"

"No. I tried to save her life and failed."

"It-" Mora plunged her fingers into her short, dark hair. "This is so crazy. I was playing dolls with her last night."

I nodded.

"Was I really? Was it true?"

"I think so. It's the interior person that survives death, Mora. Fava was an inhuma, as we both know. We both know, also, that her interior person, her spirit, was not. When you yourself die-and we all die-you will be the interior person, and there will be no other. To put it a bit more accurately, that interior person will be the only you in existence."

"So I'd better make sure the interior person's somebody I can live with?"

"Exactly. I think you've done very well so far, but you've only begun. May I tell you a secret, Mora?"

"If you think it's something I ought to know."

"I think it's something that everyone ought to know. I know another secret of that kind, but I may not tell it because I gave my word to a dying man that I would not. This one I found out for myself, so it's mine to do with as I choose."

"Go on."

"The Outsider has arranged our whorl in such a way that there is far more balance than at first appears, with gain involving loss, and loss, gain. Your father is rich by the standards of Blanko, and it is a very good thing to be rich; but as a rich man he has certain responsibilities-and is subject to certain temptations-that his poorer neighbors do not. Do you wish to argue?"

"He's a good man, whatever they say."

"He is. I forgot to mention his neighbors' envy, which is one of the chief disadvantages of his wealth, though there are others. I do not mean that he would be better off poor, though many men would. I am merely saying that he and his neighbors are much more nearly at a level in life than either may believe."

"All right, I see that."

"This matter of the interior person is similar. We mourn, we weep, we tear our clothes and our hair when a child dies; but the child's interior person was far superior to ours in most cases. In all, if the child was quite young. The longer you live the more difficulty you will have in keeping your interior person someone you can live with. My own difficulties have been so great that I would hesitate to say that I've succeeded."

"Good Silk!" Oreb assured me, and I smiled. "Good bird, too," I said.

"Is that your real name? Silk? Are you the man in the book?"

"I don't think so."

Mora stared at me, then looked away.

"Before you and your husband came, I called everyone in our party together. It made it too crowded in here. You saw that."

"Sure."

"There's no room in this little house that wouldn't be equally crowded, or worse; and I don't think it would be wise for me to go outside for another day or two. There is an old woman here and a young one. Both may be addressed as Jahlee. Will you do me a favor, Mora?"

"You've done me a lot of them, and I wouldn't want to ugly up my interior person. What is it?"

"I'm merely being curious now. Do you still consider the external one ugly?"

She shook her head. "Eco says I'm beautiful. I know that's not true and won't ever be, but I lost weight while I was away. Did you notice?"

I nodded.

"I need to lose some more. I'm going to try. I know I'll never look like Torda or even come close, but there are things I can do about the way I look and the way I dress," she touched her loose silk blouse, "and I'm going to do them."

"In a year or two, Torda will have to admit ruefully-to herself at least-that she will never be able to look, or act, or speak like you."

"Thanks. What's the favor?"

"I still want to have my meeting, but I am going to have to limit the number present. Bring either of the women called Jahlee, please, but not both."

All right."

"All three of our prisoners, I believe, and we'll have to include the trooper guarding them. In addition, Duko Sfido, Private Cuoio, and your husband. You yourself are welcome to attend as well. You said you wanted to."

"I still do. Thanks."

When she was gone Oreb asked, "Bird come? Good Silk!"

"You know what I'm going to do, clearly-what I'm going to try, at least. Do you approve?"

"Good Silk!" he repeated.

Hide was first to arrive. I explained to him that since there was only one chair it would have to be reserved for General Inclito's daughter, and said that he might sit on my bed, or on the floor if he preferred.

He shook his head. "Is the old lady coming? She was looking for her."

"Perhaps."

"She shouldn't have to stand up in her own house. I'll bring in another chair for her."

Duko Rigoglio, General Morello, and Colonel Terzo arrived, guarded by Inclito's coachman. I told the last that I was glad to see him, since he, as well as Inclito's daughter and son-in-law, could stand in for Inclito himself.

"He wanted me to go back and take care of the place, our livestock and wheat."

"He must be worried about his mother, too, Affito."

"He thought you'd see about them, sir. You know, all those womenfolk."

Cuoio returned with another chair, and a youthful Jahlee. "My aunt is unwell, Master Incanto. Will I make an acceptable substitute?"