I disappeared into my storeroom when I heard Trompe moving around. He came to Lutha’s door, demanding, “What?”
“Looking for anything Bernesohn may have left, but all this stuff belongs to Leelson,” she replied.
In the next room, Leelson inserted a chip that whined and scratched before speaking clearly and plainly. During the past several days I’d heard it more than once. The voice was scratchy and a little cantankerous. At hearing it, both Lutha and Trompe crossed into the room where Leelson was.
… ‘fore leaving make record of … following significant findings … Ularians … reason for Dinadh’s immunity … oldest settled world in the sector … only one, here or elsewhere, where the present inhabitants are mumble-mumble as to origin.
“Is that the memorandum you mentioned?” asked Lutha while the chip made scratchy, whining noises.
“This is the only one I’ve found that says anything about the Ularians,” said Leelson. “Unfortunately, there are only a few clear places. Something has chewed on the chip.”
He fiddled with the machine; it repeated the last phrase several times, to origin, to origin, to origin.
… narrowed field of inquiry … taken steps to … remedy situation … considering factors that seem … Dinadhi omphalos and abandoned gods … tell Tospia … rejoinder of my lineage …
The reader went on blurting fragmentary words and phrases interrupted by harsh scratching and stretches of gibberish.
Leelson, Trompe, and Lutha stared at one another.
“I’ve played that one several times,” said Leelson. “I’ve jotted down the clear words and phrases, here. Any ideas?”
“It’s enigmatic at best,” said Lutha at last. “Was he anticipating legal action? Rejoinder is a word I’ve only run across in legal documents.”
Leelson shrugged. “The bit about rejoinder to the question of his lineage may refer to the court action Tospia brought against the news sniffer over the paternity of the Famber twins. Did you know about that?”
Lutha said, “The Procurator mentioned it. Tospia visited Bernesohn here, returned to Central, had twins, and their parentage was questioned.”
“Questions of lineage, as you’ve discovered for yourself, would have annoyed Bernesohn no end. His voice sounds annoyed. Also, there’s a good bit of frustration and weariness, but no real excitement. Possibly because he’s tired. As though he’d been digging and digging for something.”
“The answer that wasn’t here, perhaps?” Lutha sighed. I knew what she was thinking. To have come all this way for nothing.
“Or because he’d found out what he needed to know,” said Trompe thoughtfully. “He could have learned what he needed to know and done something about the Ularians. He says he took steps to remedy the situation.”
“The record didn’t say he took steps to remedy ‘the situation,’ “ contradicted Lutha. “There’s a pause there … ”
Trompe paid no attention. “My god, Leelson. The only situation was the Ularian business. If he had a remedy … ”
Lutha sat down, murmuring, “He speaks of abandoned gods. I’ve heard nothing of abandoned gods while we’ve been here on Dinadh.”
Oh, but I had. Whispered by grandmothers to granddaughters, mentioned in old songs sung by sisterhoods.
Lutha went on: “He also speaks of the omphalos. Had he any maps of Dinadh?”
Leelson nodded. “Here? A whole file of them. But why maps?”
“Place-names often survive while language changes around them. Sometimes the names of places give us the only evidence of languages that have otherwise disappeared. God names are sometimes applied to places, therefore a place-name might be a clue to what he calls an abandoned god.”
She ran her hands through her hair, pressing her fingertips into her forehead. I could feel her ache in my own forehead as she said:
“The only other thing that comes to mind is that Bernesohn disappeared from here, where we are. We know hover cars can’t get down into the canyon. We know the Dinadhi use fliers only for emergencies—kind of emergency unspecified. So, wherever he went, he probably had to go on foot. Since he mentioned the omphalos, is it credible that he went there?”
I heard the rustle as Leelson unfolded the maps. I myself had seen them, had unfolded them, studied them, all the wonderful maps. Printed upon them were all the roads, lines of green; the ocean, a blotch of blue; the endless twisting edges of the canyons, black squiggles; and the names of places in curly lettering. The omphalos was shown there, too, shaded in violet and crimson, important colors, sacred colors. When duty had required me to tend to this place by myself, after Mother departed and before Leelson came, I had many times sat at that table and traced the way, how I would go if I were going to the omphalos. To Tahs-uppi. To the renewal. To say goodbye.