If only the Jingfired had picked on someone else for this mission … But their old acquaintance had tipped the balance; Thilling was forbidden to disobey.
She had no difficulty in locating the venue of Awb’s daily meeting, of course. Scores-of-scores of people were making for it, so she simply let herself be carried along.
It was, she must admit, a considerable achievement for a mere male to have got himself regarded as his city’s most outstanding bud, granted the use of the handsome open bower at the very center of Voosla which was normally reserved for public debates on matters of policy. She imagined it was seldom so packed for one of those. It was with relief that she noticed, as she made herself comfortable in an inconspicuous crotch, that she was not the only person present with the traces of old age on her mantle, though the vast majority of the attendance consisted of young’uns chattering away like piemaqs.
But they fell silent the instant Awb appeared: plumper than Thilling remembered, his mantle deeply grooved, his eye—like her own—less keen. Yet his voice was tremendously improved, and at his first utterance she felt she understood at least a little of what drew folk to him.
Persuasive or not, however, what he said was totally repugnant to her. He taught that no “proper” relationship, with one’s community, even with one’s budder or budlings—let alone the commensality of all living things—could be established without prior comprehension of oneself. Sometimes he urged people to starve in the midst of plenty, like the ancient sacerdotes; sometimes he expounded on ideas drawn from dream-ness, as though they warranted equal treatment with rational knowledge; frequently he declared that those who sought means to escape the planet were actually fleeing from true awareness of themselves.
And all this, Thilling thought bitterly, because of the load of guilt he had carried ever since he learned that Phrallet’s monstrous scheme to kidnap those mindless northern natives and experiment on their living bodies had saved his life … but not her own.
He spoke freely enough about his illness and recovery; what he never mentioned, according to her briefing—nor did he prove the contrary today—was the self-sacrifice of Drotninch and Eupril and Lesh, who had each in her respective way struggled to make sense of the heat arising in that yellow mud, and in less than a generation revolutionized the folk’s understanding of matter. Above all, their legacy offered clues to the processes that lit the stars.
Because of them, and their successors, the chemistry of other elements than woodchar was at long last being studied thoroughly. The ancient use of fire had been resuscitated; brilliant young minds had been brought to bear on the questions posed by metal, glass, rock, plain ordinary water! A whole new universe of knowledge had been opened up. And did Awb care? Not by any clue or sign he gave!
Of course he did still hew to his belief that life among the People of the Sea was inherently superior to life on shore. To this fact he modestly attributed his remarkable success in treating deranged landlivers, whose behavior was sometimes dangerously abnormal even though the most delicate analyses revealed nothing amiss in their nerve-pith or ichor. More cynical, Thilling thought of the cleansing ocean breezes that bore away intrusive pheromones. Sea-travel had been regarded as beneficial long before Awb’s reputation converted Voosla into the most sought-after of floating cities, in demand to touch at every continent in the course of every year. And she was sure Awb himself must be aware of that fact.
But if she were to mention it to those around her, would they be interested? Would they believe her? Most likely not. Awb and his disciples seemed to be set on creating a generation of young folk who cared as little for the past as for the future. Neither the study of history nor planning for the salvation of the species could attract them. They were assured that they need only study themselves, and all would be well, for ever and ever…
The meeting had assembled before sundown. Darkness overtook it while Awb was still answering questions. Suddenly Thilling noticed that something was distracting the crowd, and everyone was glancing upward. Copying their example, she realized why. There was a small yellow comet in the sky, but that was commonplace; what had drawn their gaze was a meteor storm, a horde of bright brief streaks coming by scores at a time.