Orson Card - THE SHIPS OF EARTH

Obring nodded.

"But the ledge that saved his life is the real path," said Vas. "There's one hard place—a drop of two meters—but then it's a smooth passage along the face of the cliff, and then we reach the easy part, right down to the beach."

They followed him past the place where he had silently watched Nafai's struggle. When it was clear that Nafai was going to make it after all, then he had called out and come to help him. Now he would help them down onto the ledge. Only he would not climb down to join them. Instead he would kick Obring in the head and send him over the side. Sevet would understand then. Sevet would know why he had brought her here. And she would, at long last, beg him for forgiveness. She would plead with him for understanding, she would weep, she would sob for him. And his answer would be to pick up the heaviest stones he could find and throw them down on her, until she had to run along the ledge. He would drive her to the narrow place and still he would throw stones until finally she stumbled or was knocked off balance. She would fall then, and scream, and he would hear the sound and treasure it in his heart forever.

Then, of course, he would climb down the true path to the bottom, and find their broken bodies where the pulse had been. If one of them happened somehow to still be alive, he would have no trouble breaking a neck or two—it wouldn't be surprising to anyone, to find their necks broken in the fall. But he doubted they'd live. It was quite a long fall. The pulse had been completely shattered. That annoying little pizdoon Nafai would have been just as broken up if he hadn't found that invisible ledge to land on. Ah, well, Nafai was only an annoyance—Vas didn't care much whether he lived or died, as long as the pulses were all destroyed so they would have to head back to civilization. And now, before they did turn back, was his chance to have his revenge and yet no one would suspect him. "I think they must have heard me following them, because they were going much too fast, especially for nighttime travel. And then I saw they were heading for that ledge. I knew how dangerous it was, I called out to them, but they didn't understand, I guess, that I was warning them away. Or maybe they didn't care. God help me, but I loved her! The mother of my child!" I'll even shed a tear for them, and they'll believe me. What choice will they have? Everyone knows that I long since forgave and forgot their adultery.

I'm not a very demanding man. I don't expect perfection from others. I get along and do my part. But when someone treats me like a worm, as if I didn't exist, as if I didn't matter, then I don't forget, no, I never forget, I never forgive, I simply bide my time and then they see: I do matter, and despising me was the gravest error of their lives. That's what Sevet will be thinking as the stones strike her and she has no place to flee to except the open air as she falls to her death: If only I had been true to him, I would live to raise my daughter.

"Here," he said. "Here's the place where we have to drop down to that lower ledge."

Sevet was clearly frightened, and Obring put on a mask of bravado that showed his fear as clearly as if he had simply wet himself and whimpered. Which he would do soon enough. "No problem," he said.

"Sevet first," said Vas.

"Why me?" she said.

"Because the two of us can lower you down more safely," said Vas. And mostly because then I can kick Obring in the head as soon as I lower him, and you'll already be trapped on the ledge where you can see everything but do nothing.

It was going to work. Sevet squatted at the lip of the ledge, preparing to turn and go over the side. And then there came that other voice, that unexpected, terrible voice.

"The Oversoul forbids you to go down, Sevet."

They all turned, and there she stood, shining in the moonlight, her white gown flapping a little in the wind, which was stronger where she stood.

How did she know? thought Vas. How did she know to come here? I thought the Oversoul would consent to this—simple justice! If the Oversoul had not wanted him to do this, to make Obring and Sevet pay for their crime, then why didn't he stop him before? Why now, when he was so close? No, he wouldn't let her stop him at all. It was too late. There would be three bodies at the bottom of the cliff, not two. And instead of climbing back up the mountain, he would take three flagons of water and head for Dorova. He would get there and leave again long before any accusations could overtake him. And in Seggidugu or Potokgavan, wherever he ended up, he would deny everything. There were no witnesses, and none of these people would have standing anyway. He would lose his daughter—but that would be fit and fair punishment for killing Luet. It would all be even. He would owe no debt of vengeance to the universe, and the universe would owe no debt of vengeance to him. All would be balanced and settled and right.

"You know me, Sevet," said Luet. "I speak to you as the waterseer. If you go down that ledge you'll never see your child again, and there is no greater crime in the eyes of the Oversoul than for a mother to abandon her child."

" As your mother did to you and Hushidh?" said Vas. "Spare us your lies about crimes in the eyes of the Oversoul. The Oversoul is a computer set by some distant ancestor to keep his eyes on us, and nothing more—your own husband says so, doesn't he? My wife is not superstitious enough to believe you."

No, no, he shouldn't have said so much. He should have acted. He should have taken three steps and shoved the frail-bodied girl off the edge. She couldn't possibly resist him. Then, having seen him do murder, the others would be all the quicker to obey and be on their way—to safety, to the city, they think. To argue with her was stupid. He was being stupid.

"The Oversoul chose the three of you to be part of her company," said Luet. "I tell you now that if you go over that edge, you will not live to see daylight, not one of you."

"Prophecy?" said Vas. "I didn't know that was one of your many gifts." Kill her now! he screamed inside, and yet his own body didn't heed him.

"The Oversoul tells me that Nafai has made his bow and arrows, and they fly straight and true. This expedition will continue, and you will continue with it," she said. "If you go back now, your daughters will never know that you once abandoned them. The Oversoul will fulfil her promises to you—that you will inherit a land of plenty, and your children will be a great nation."

"When were any of those promises for me," said Obring. "For Volemak's sons, yes, but not for me. For me it's nothing but taking orders and getting yelled at because I don't do everything the way King Elemak wants me to."

"Stop whining," said Vas. "Don't you see that she's trying to ensnare us all?"

"The Oversoul sent me here to save your lives," said Luet.

"That's a lie," said Vas. "And you know it's a lie. My life has not been in danger for a single moment."

"I tell you that if you had succeeded in your plan, Vas, your life would not have lasted five more minutes."

"And how would this miracle have happened?" asked Vas.

That was when Elemak's voice came from behind him, and he knew that he had lost everything.

"I would have killed you myself," said Elemak. "With my bare hands."

Vas whirled on him, furious and, for once, unable to contain his rage. Why should he contain it? He was as good as dead now, with Elemak here—so why not speak his contempt openly? "Would you!" he cried. "Do you think you're a match for me! You've never been a match for me! I've thwarted you at every turn! And you never guessed, you never suspected. You fool, strutting and bragging about how only you know how to lead our caravan—who was it who did what you couldn't do, and turned us back?"