K. Parker: The Proof House

Alexius frowned at him. ‘Dead,’ he replied.

‘Sorry, it was just a reflex question, I know you’re… I’m sorry,’ Gannadius added lamely.

‘That’s all right,’ Alexius replied. ‘I always thought philosophy’s gain was diplomacy’s loss. Think, if you’d joined the diplomatic corps instead of the Order, how many interesting wars you could have started.’

Gannadius clicked his tongue. ‘That’s something I’ve noticed, actually,’ he said. ‘You’ve got ever so much more sarcastic and waspish since you’ve been dead.’

‘Have I?’ Alexius looked concerned. ‘Yes, come to think of it I suppose I have, though I hadn’t noticed till you mentioned it. I can only assume it’s the result of being filtered through your delightful personality and sunny disposition every time I need to talk to you. Hence also, no doubt, the increased levels of flippancy. Not that I’m complaining; I always felt I was a trifle too dry and bland in my conversation.’

‘Glad to be of service,’ Gannadius said. ‘Now then-’

‘The message, yes.’ Alexius thought for a moment. ‘I’m not sure how to put this without sounding deplorably melodramatic. Goodbye for ever.’

‘Oh,’ Gannadius replied. ‘What’s happened?’

‘The mess we made has finally put itself right,’ Alexius replied. ‘Although right isn’t perhaps the most appropriate word. Iseutz Hedin is dead. Bardas killed her a few minutes ago.’

‘Oh,’ Gannadius repeated. ‘And that changes things how, exactly? I’m sorry, I don’t quite follow.’

Alexius sighed. ‘Vegetating here among the intellectual elite of the Shastel Order hasn’t done much for your inductive reasoning, I see,’ he said. ‘Let’s see. I suppose you could say that the Principle has asserted itself, or returned to its proper course – that’s if we’re using the river analogy, which I never liked much. If we’re using the wheel analogy, I’d say it’s completed a revolution and returned to top dead centre, though that conveniently ignores the fact that it was off-line for a while. Thanks, I’m sorry to say, to you and me.’

‘The curse.’

‘Oh dear, that word again. That diversion, or that deflection – or should it be eccentricity? Although on balance I’d settle for that bloody stupid mistake.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s been resolved, in any event. In a sense, we’re now back to where we would have been if we hadn’t interfered – except, of course, that we’re nowhere near, because the city that hasn’t fallen isn’t Perimadeia, it’s a fortress out on the plains somewhere that Bardas has failed to capture; and it’s Iseutz, not Bardas, who’s been killed; and of course, because the wheel’s turned an extra turn and covered that much more ground, any number of people have been involved who needn’t have been. But it’s over, which is the main thing. Now all that’s left is for you to write up the experiment as a paper. Not meaning this unkindly,’ he went on, ‘but I’d get someone to work on it with you, just to add that objective angle that makes all the difference. What about that confounded gifted student of yours, the girl-’

‘Machaera?’ Gannadius shook his head. ‘She changed course last year. She’s in Commercial Strategy now, doing rather well.’

‘Really? Shame.’ Alexius sighed. ‘Well, you’ll find someone, I expect. And you won’t be in a position to start work until everything’s calmed down anyway, so-’

‘What do you mean exactly,’ Gannadius interrupted, ‘by “calmed down”?’

Alexius made a vague gesture with his hands. ‘Worked itself out, found its own level. You’ll see.’ He stood up. ‘Well, old friend, this is one of those acutely embarrassing moments we try so hard to avoid; it’s been a pleasure working with you, and I’ve enjoyed our friendship very much (even if the consequences for hundreds of thousands of people were fairly catastrophic). It’d be nice to think we might meet again some day, though I have to say that in my interpretation of the Principle, that’s extremely unlikely.’ He pulled a face. ‘I know that sounds dismally formal, but you and I aren’t the sort to make big emotional speeches. More’s the pity, probably.’

Gannadius nodded. ‘I shall miss you,’ he said. ‘But I suppose I’m glad, if it really is over; except that I’m not, because things have turned out so terribly badly, and it was our fault-’

‘Partly our fault. We didn’t make people the way they are, or cause the problems that started it all. In a sense, all this would have happened anyway; because it has happened-’ He broke off, scratched his head, and smiled ruefully. ‘Do you know,’ he said, ‘I had hoped that death would clarify my thinking in this area, but I’m afraid it hasn’t. I never did understand the Principle, and I don’t now.’

‘There were two alternative courses, each equally valid,’ Gannadius said slowly. ‘We chose. But what happened, happened.’

‘If you use the river analogy,’ Alexius said, ‘which I’ve never been happy with. But I don’t see how you can fit all this into the wheel analogy-’

‘Unless,’ Gannadius put in, ‘you see the Principle not as a wheel but as a camshaft.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Just something I heard. I don’t think much of it, either.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Can we shake hands, or hug, or something? I feel some sort of physical expression of leavetaking-’

Alexius thought about it. ‘I can leave you with an impression that there was physical contact,’ he said, ‘but it would constitute an unreliable memory. However, it would be impossible to prove otherwise.’

‘And equally impossible to prove,’ Gannadius replied with a smile. ‘And remember, we’re philosophers. Scientists. To us, proof is everything.’

‘Very well then. Goodbye, Gannadius.’

– Who realised he was awake, and had been dreaming.

It was like the aftermath of a big feast, a birthday or a wedding; they felt exhilarated and exhausted, and the last thing they wanted to do was start clearing up the mess. Unfortunately, a certain amount would have to be done before they could go to bed; a careful search for enemy survivors, for instance, not to mention their own wounded.

‘Iordecai, you organise some work details,’ Sildocai said. ‘Lissai, Ullacai, check the defences, just in case they do attack – I can’t imagine they will, but it’d be a brilliant tactical move, hitting us when we’re at our most relaxed. Pajai, I want you to take twenty men and make sure Loredan’s body isn’t bobbing up and down in the river somewhere. You never know your luck.’

‘All right,’ someone replied. ‘And what are you going to do?’

‘Report to Temrai, of course,’ Sildocai replied with a grin. ‘By the way, has anybody seen him? Last I saw him he was heading back to his tent, but that was when we were still mopping up by the cattle pens.’ Nobody had anything to contribute, so he shrugged and said, ‘I expect he’s in his tent with his feet up; after all, he’s not really fit again after that bashing he took when he got buried.’

There were fires burning everywhere he looked as he crossed the camp; the neatly stacked cords of firewood had got soaked in the rain, so they were using halberd-shafts and Imperial-issue boots for fuel. Everybody he saw was moving at the slow, grim pace of the bone-weary, the dogged trudge, shoes heavy with clinging mud. He knew how they felt; but he was still slightly buzzed with victory. A pity that a victory took even longer to clear up after than a defeat.

The women and children had come out and were doing their best to help; pulling shirts and boots off dead halberdiers, gathering up armfuls of arrows, bustling about the harvest of the dead, the unexpected wind-falls of good things that shouldn’t go to waste. There were children rolling helmets along the ground and laughing (excited to be up so late, burning off energy after being cooped up in the tents for so long); he saw a small girl stop and stare thoughtfully at the body of another child, one who’d run out during the fighting and got in the way; it was half trampled into the mud, and the small girl was studying it without any apparent emotion. Over on the other side, a few men were darting and sliding wildly about, trying to round up some horses that had got loose. One of the men had a saturated-red bandage round his head – but someone had to catch the horses; they were his living, after all. He looked down and realised that he’d just put his foot on a hand.