Shorts Stories: Imperial Radch Page 4

  Qefahl Brend stepped up to the center of the court. "Who will play for me?" he asked, the ritual question, his voice resonant and sure.

  "I, Brother Seven-Brilliant-Truths-Shine-Like-Suns, will play for you!" announced Seven-Brilliant-Truths, the ritual answer. He flashed his moissanite grin, and the Blue Lily side of the stands erupted into cheers and applause.

  The Harime governor stepped up to the center, across from Qefahl Brend. But instead of asking the question, he said, "There was a time, Tetrarch, when you and I would have had to play this game ourselves." Silence, and then a puzzled mutter from the stands. "Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be best to take our own risks. Or perhaps to abolish the death altogether. Is it right to ask our captains to take the burden we should bear ourselves?" He shook his head, sadly Her-Breath-Contains thought. "Who will play for me?"

  Ultimately-Justice spoke, in her precise way. "I, Sister Ultimately-Justice-Shall-Prevail, will play for you." Polite applause followed. Her-Breath-Contains found himself distressed. This was the Game, the one that all other games were a rehearsal for. It was, the abbot had once told him, the place where planning and maneuvering fell before the will of She-Who-Sprang-From-The-Lily. Captaining a team was the ultimate surrender to Her desire. The people in the stands knew they had come to see Sister Ultimately-Justice die, and that scattering of applause was all they could muster. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

  For the next ten minutes, the abbot prayed, blessed the captains, blessed the middle court and back court players, asked the blessing of She-Who-Sprang-From-The-Lily on the spectators, the station, the Precinct, the territory of the Council. He took the censer from Her-Breath-Contains and wafted smoke towards the tetrarch and the Harime governor, the two captains. Still smiling, Seven-Brilliant-Truths held out his hands, rings three and four to a finger, the smoke curling around them. His middle court player stepped forward and did the same, and then his back court.

  Sister Ultimately-Justice's hands were square and plain. She held them briefly in the smoke and then stepped aside for her middle court player. When he reached forward Her-Breath-Contains was struck by the contrast between his elaborately jeweled hands and Sister Ultimately-Justice's plain ones. A network of gold links and gems covered the back of the middle court's right hand from knuckle to wrist, and then fanned out into a series of jeweled chains that hung from there to a band around his upper arm, just above his elbow. It sparkled through the smoke, red and yellow and green. It was arresting and strange, almost barbaric-looking. Her-Breath-Contains had never seen anything like it. The middle court looked up, saw Her-Breath-Contains looking at him, and smiled. Her-Breath-Contains found himself resenting the man. This was one of the most important games of his life, and his team's captain was doomed to die at the conclusion of the game, and yet he smiled so casually.

  ###

  Abbot Shall-I-Alone-Escape-Death sat in the front of the Noage Itray side, on the center line. Beside him was Qefahl Brend, directly opposite the governor of Harime, across the court in the Harime stands. On the other side of the tetrarch was a stranger, a pale, odd-looking man who spoke with a harsh accent. Behind the abbot, Her-Breath-Contains turned to his neighbor, an older novice. "Who is that?" he asked quietly.

  "He's an out-system merchant. He wants contracts and concessions. He wants discounted docking fees and lowered tariffs. He's been positively pouring jewelry and imported luxuries onto the tetrarch since he arrived. I heard . . . "

  But Her-Breath-Contains didn't learn what his neighbor had heard. The game was beginning.

  Both teams had put off their satin and jewels—in Ultimately-Justice's case, she had removed the wreath of lilies—and now wore only trousers and armguards. Middle and back courts took their places, and the two captains faced each other across the center line.

  The first serve was White Lily's, and Ultimately-Justice slammed the ball with her armguard powerfully enough to send it towards Blue Lily's goal line at a speed the back court player didn't anticipate. The ball grazed the side of his armguard and bounced off the Harime wall.

  Blue Lily's middle court dove for it, landing face down, and hit the ball just before it bounced, driving it in a wide arc across the center line. Ultimately-Justice, with one hard, fast swing of her arm, drove it angling towards the Noage Itray wall, where Blue Lily would have to scramble to reach it, since they had all been trying to catch the ball in its bounce off the opposite wall.

  But Seven-Brilliant-Truths was fast. He reached the ball and slammed it hard, back across the center line. White Lily's middle court tried to return it, but it flew into the stands, a foul.

  The spectators on the Harime wall were sluggish at first, but after a few plays they realized that Sister Ultimately-Justice was playing to win. White Lily's middle court seemed to be having a bad day—he fouled twice while Her-Breath-Contains watched. But Ultimately-Justice was going to give Blue Lily as good a fight as she could, better than anyone had expected. Even as Blue Lily scored three goals in succession, the Harime spectators' enthusiasm strengthened. Her-Breath-Contains was pleased to see Seven-Brilliant-Truths, so grinning and sure of himself at the start of the game, compelled to fight for points.

  The merchant leaned over to the tetrarch Qefahl Brend, raised his hand and gestured towards the ball as it flew over White Lily's goal line.

  Draped across the back of his hand was a piece of jewelry nearly identical to the one Ultimately-Justice's middle court man had worn before the start of the game. Her-Breath-Contains' eyes followed the dangling chains that led to the same upper armlet. He frowned. Had the merchant been giving gifts to White Lily players?

  "Blue Lily must score next," said Qefahl Brend to the merchant, answering a question he had asked but Her-Breath-Contains had not heard, absorbed as he was by the merchant's jewelry. "If White Lily scores, then both sides return to zero and the game begins again."

  "Every time? Even if it keeps happening?"

  "There was a game," said the abbot, "centuries ago, that lasted two months and six days."

  "I hope this one won't be so long!" exclaimed the merchant. "I enjoy sports, but not to that extent."

  It was clear the merchant knew virtually nothing about the game. And he was here currying the tetrarch's favor, so if he had given gifts to players, they would likely have been to Blue Lily's. So where had White Lily's middle court gotten his jewelry?

  Her-Breath-Contains' seatmate had said, He's been positively pouring jewelry and imported luxuries onto the tetrarch since he arrived. The merchant might very well have given such a gift to Qefahl Brend.

  "It doesn't matter how long it lasts," said the abbot. "Only that we do the will of She-Who-Sprang-From-The-Lily."

  But, Her-Breath-Contains realized, Qefahl Brend cared nothing for the will of She-Who-Sprang-From-The-Lily. Sister Ultimately-Justice—or for that matter Her-Breath-Contains—was only a potential obstacle between Qefahl Brend and what he wanted. Her-Breath-Contains was protected by the abbot, so it seemed. Who would defend Sister Ultimately-Justice? Her own teammate had been bribed to help destroy her. "I have to go to the bathroom," Her-Breath-Contains said, rising, and excused his way out of the crowd of novices and took the stairs down to the cold and silent portico, and the staring Hundred.

  A monk was standing at the door to the White Lily end of the court. Above, the noise of the crowd following the play, and from the court the thwack of the ball hitting the walls, the occasional grunt of a ballplayer. "What do you want, brother?" asked the White Lily monk.

  "I have to talk to Sister."

  "Go away."

  "You don't understand. I have to talk to her."

  The play ended in a foul; Her-Breath-Contains heard the call. The White Lily monk sighed, took a step back and made a sign. A moment later Her-Breath-Contains heard the timeout call, and Ultimately-Justice-Shall-Prevail came to the door.

  Her-Breath-Contains routinely looked on the nearly naked She-Commands-Me-And-I-Obey without
embarrassment, but she was just a statue. Sister Ultimately-Justice was a real woman. Her arms and legs were well-muscled and streaked with grime, from diving for the ball. Her-Breath-Contains looked up towards her face quickly, because the close sight of her bare breasts was disturbing him, but so was the smell of her sweat, her very solid presence. She said nothing, only stood and waited, face expressionless.

  She frightened him. He swallowed. "There's a merchant from out-system," he said, willing his voice not to shake, feeling slightly unreal. "He's been giving the tetrarch presents. He wants contracts." A pause to swallow again. "He's wearing this weird bracelet-thing. It goes all over his hand and up his arm and. . . ."

  It was as though he wasn't speaking. Her expression didn't change at all, there was no acknowledgment of his presence. "And your middle court man was wearing one just like it before the game. Except it was a different color. I've never seen anything like it before."

  She didn't ask him what he meant, or if he was sure, or what he thought he was doing. She just turned and walked back out to the ballcourt without saying a word.

  Her-Breath-Contains turned as calmly as he could and walked away, into the middle of the Hundred, reluctant this time to look squarely at She-Commands-Me-And-I-Obey. He closed his eyes, took three deep breaths, wishing there weren't so many flowers, opened his eyes, and climbed the steps to the top of the wall, where the Blue Lily monks sat. As he took his seat, Seven-Brilliant-Truths served, and Ultimately-Justice was poised to return it—until her middle court man, running for the ball, tripped and fell into her, and knocked the ball backwards, straight towards his own goal. Her back court knocked it away at the very last moment, sending it up into the stands.

  The spectators on the Harime side groaned in unison, engaged in the game's outcome as they had not been at the start. The Harime governor seemed not to react at all. "What was that?" asked the novice beside Her-Breath-Contains. White Lily's back court strode towards the mid court player, seemed about to speak angrily, but then must have remembered that what he said would be audible both here and to people watching in their homes, because he stopped abruptly and returned to his position. The Blue Lily players laughed outright.

  Ultimately-Justice gestured for a timeout. All three White Lily players walked behind the goal line, where they could speak without everyone on the station hearing. Ultimately-Justice spoke calmly, briefly. Her middle court replied, emphatically, gesturing negatively three and four times, no, no, no, no. Back court tried to speak but Ultimately-Justice raised her hand and spoke again, still calm. Middle court gestured again, no, spoke at length, presumably explaining.

  They returned to the court. Ultimately-Justice seemed unfazed. As she walked past her middle court man, she suddenly spun around and slammed her armguard hard against his knee. The crack of bone breaking was audible over the whole ballcourt, and the scream of the injured ballplayer echoed in the momentary shocked silence of the spectators.

  The noise rose. Qefahl Brend seemed paralyzed in his seat. The novice next to Her-Breath-Contains said, "She can't do that! Can she do that?" Meanwhile, Ultimately-Justice strolled unconcerned to the center line, looked at Seven-Brilliant-Truths, and gently, sweetly, smiled.

  She stood there for ten minutes, quietly humming the ninth hour's devotional chant (Her-Breath-Contains had been right, she did not have a singer's voice), while monks and the governors' assistants searched centuries of precedent. But there was, it appeared, no rule forbidding one to cripple one's own teammate.

  * * *

  The fourth White Lily player, who probably had not expected to play at all, took middle court, and the game resumed. Ultimately-Justice moved with astonishing precision and speed, sending the ball crashing from wall to wall. Her own team barely kept pace with her—though there were no more comic mishaps, no more inexplicable ineptness.

  It wasn't until the score reached four to four that the people sitting on the Harime wall realized that Sister Ultimately-Justice might actually win. The sound coming from across the court shifted subtly and it set the hair on Her-Breath-Contains' arms standing. He didn't know if anyone else could hear the change, or if he was imagining it.

  White Lily scored their fifth point—Ultimately-Justice leaping a meter off the ground to slam the ball straight past Seven-Brilliant-Truths and his bewildered middle and back courts—and suddenly the Harime were on their feet and screaming. The Harime governor sat calmly, as though nothing had happened. He knew from the start, thought Her-Breath-Contains. She came and said she could win it and that's how she got the position. He wouldn't have had anything to lose, all the risk would have been Ultimately-Justice's. Everyone had been so sure, but now Qefahl Brend might lose the seat on the Council of Four, and . . .

  Suddenly Her-Breath-Contains saw what he had done. On the court, Seven-Brilliant-Truths grimaced, moissanite teeth flashing briefly.

  Her-Breath-Contains didn't want anyone to win. He wanted the game to stop, and now. He'd known from the beginning that someone would die, that at the end of the game he would watch an actual human being killed on the ballcourt, but it had been so abstract. "Six!" said the novice next to Her-Breath-Contains, in an anguished voice. Six against four. White Lily only needed four points more to win. "If we can score next . . ." This was another moment when the game could be reset. If Blue Lily could score next, both would start all over at zero. Ultimately-Justice hefted the ball, ready for the serve.

  She hit it straight and hard. Seven-Brilliant-Truths, apparently unnerved, brought his arm up an instant too late. The ball slammed into his mouth—a foul. Play stopped. Seven-Brilliant-Truths put his hands on his knees, breathed. Spat blood on the court. Straightened. Ultimately-Justice watched him impassively. She took the ball when it was given to her, served again.

  Something had gone out of Seven-Brilliant-Truths, out of Blue Lily. White scored three more times in quick succession—nine to four, another precarious moment. If Blue Lily could score, both sides would return to zero. If White scored, the game would be over. The noise from both sides of the court was louder than Her-Breath-Contains-The-Universe had ever imagined any sound could be. Everyone, it seemed, was standing, shouting, screaming. Except for the out-system merchant, who might well be preparing to direct his bribes elsewhere. Except the abbot Shall-I-Alone-Escape-Death. Except Tetrarch Qefahl Brend, and the governor of Harime Station. They sat silent and still in their seats.

  For two more serves, the score stayed where it was. The sound, impossibly, increased. Then White Lily's new middle court knocked the ball up and over. It arced long and high the length of the court. The three Blue Lily players stopped, arms at their sides, and stared at the ball as it landed just behind their goal line. The sound of the spectators—Noage Itray crying out in dismay, Harime in triumph—was like a solid object filling the air.

  Sister Ultimately-Justice walked up to Seven-Brilliant-Truths and spoke. It should have been audible, but the sound in the court was so loud that Her-Breath-Contains could only see her mouth move. Her-Breath-Contains looked across to the Harime wall—the Harime governor's seat was empty.

  * * *

  The monk who had been guarding the doorway to the White Lily end of the court came before the abbot and the tetrarch. He bowed and spoke. The noise was still too loud for Her-Breath-Contains to hear anything, but he saw the monk's lips move.Messages, he saw, and the monk held his hands out, one to the abbot and one to Qefahl Brend.

  Shall-I-Alone-Escape-Death brushed his fingers across the monk's hand and then his own ear, leaving a gauzy, barely visible membrane. Qefahl Brend waited a moment before following suit.

  After a few moments Shall-I-Alone-Escape-Death raised his hand and wiped the device away, and turned to look at Her-Breath-Contains, eyebrow raised. He made a beckoning gesture and Her-Breath-Contains leaned forward. "Accompany me," said the abbot, and rose and strode away.

  Her-Breath-Contains followed. The White Lily monk raised his hand casually, as though he were doi
ng something entirely thoughtless, and touched Her-Breath-Contains' ear as he passed. Suddenly Her-Breath-Contains heard the careful, rough voice of Ultimately-Justice. "I would not have done this, but you chose to involve yourself." He started to raise his hand to touch the device, but stopped himself. The recording continued, her voice in his ear intimate in a way that made him shiver. "You are in great danger from this moment forward, no matter what you choose. The abbot will only protect you so long as you display no independence."

  Under the stands the noise was muted somewhat and Her-Breath-Contains heard a step behind him. He turned, saw his brother Qefahl Brend. His Breath Contains looked forward again, quickly. "I will help you where I can," said Ultimately-Justice's voice. "But favors come with a price." The message-end tone sounded.

  He followed the abbot to a room behind the White Lily goal line, where Seven-Brilliant-Truths and Sister Ultimately-Justice stood, and beside them the governor of Harime, who bowed to Tetrarch Qefahl Brend, but not deeply. Seven-Brilliant-Truths stared at Her-Breath-Contains as he came in behind the abbot.

  The governor of Harime spoke. "At this moment Brother Seven-Brilliant-Truths-Shine-Like-Suns is more valuable than you, Governor of Noage Itray. Tetrarch for the moment. Your seat on the Council of Four is lost. You can't regain it without a good ball team. Or copious bribes, which, as you are no longer tetrarch, you may no longer find so easy to afford." Her-Breath-Contains expected an outburst from Qefahl Brend, but there was nothing. The governor of Harime continued. "Noage Itray, and Blue Lily Monastery, needs Seven-Brilliant-Truths-Shine-Like-Suns if they are to have any hope of regaining what they have lost. But they don't need you in particular, Tetrarch."