The Memory of Earth (27 page)

“You
both
know that Father’s life was in danger in Basilica,” said Nafai.

The way they both looked at him told him that what he suspected was true. If they had been innocent, they would have taken his remark to mean only that he
expected them to believe in Father’s vision. Instead, they took it much more harshly.

“What makes you think you know what
other
people know?” demanded Elemak.

“If
you’re
so sure Father’s life was in danger,” said Meb nastily, “maybe that means
you
were in on the conspiracy.”

Again, their reactions were typical: Elemak, defending against Nafai’s accusation by saying, in essence, You can’t prove anything, while Mebbekew was defending himself by turning the accusation back on Nafai.

Now let them realize what they are confessing, thought Nafai. “What conspiracy?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”

Mebbekew immediately realized how much he had revealed. “I just assumed—that you were saying that we had some advance knowledge or something.”

“If you
knew
of a plot against Father’s life,” said Nafai, “you would have
told
him, if you were any kind of decent human being. And you certainly wouldn’t sit here whining about how we didn’t really need to leave the city.”

“I’m not the one who whines, little boy,” said Mebbekew. His anger had lost all subtlety now. He wasn’t sure how to interpret Nafai’s words, which is why Nafai had spoken the way he did. Let Meb wonder—does Nafai know something, or not?

“Shut up, Meb,” said Elemak. “And you, too, Nafai. Isn’t it bad enough we’re in exile here without you at each other’s throats?”

Elya the peacemaker. Nafai wanted to laugh. But then—maybe it was true. Maybe Elemak
hadn’t
known—maybe Gaballufix had never taken him into his confidence on that subject. Of course he hadn’t, Nafai realized. Elya might be Gaballufix’s half-brother, but he was still Wetchik’s son and heir. Gaballufix would never be absolutely
sure whose side Elemak was really on. He could use Elya as a go-between, a messenger to Father—but he could never trust him with real knowledge.

That would explain Elemak’s effort to keep Meb silent, too; he wanted to hide his involvement with Gaballufix, yes, but there was no murder plot to keep secret. How could Nafai have imagined it? Besides, if they were out in the desert as part of the Oversoul’s plan, didn’t that mean that Elemak and Mebbekew were
also
part of the plan? Here I am, filled with suspicion about them, harboring exactly the kind of malice that is going to destroy Basilica. How can I claim to be on the Oversoul’s side, if I let myself behave like the kind of person who doesn’t trust even his own brother?

“I’m sorry,” said Nafai. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Now they all looked at him in true startlement. It took a moment for Nafai to realize that it was the first time in his life that he had ever actually apologized for some nasty thing he said to one of his brothers, without first being wrestled into submission and locked in some painful grip.

“That’s all right,” said Mebbekew. His voice was full of wonder—his eyes, though, radiated with triumphant contempt.

You think my apology means I’m weak, Nafai said silently to him. But it doesn’t. It means I’m trying to learn how to be strong.

It was then that Nafai told Father and Elemak and Mebbekew something of the visions the Oversoul showed him during the night. He didn’t get far into his account, though.

“I’m tired,” said Elemak. “I don’t have time for this.”

Nafai looked at him in astonishment. Didn’t have time to hear the plan of the Oversoul? Didn’t have time to learn about the hope of humankind returning to Earth?

Mebbekew also yawned pointedly.

“You mean you don’t even care?” asked Issib.

Elemak smiled at his crippled brother. “You’re too trusting, Issya,” he said. “Can’t you see what’s happening here? Nafai can’t stand not to be the center of attention. He can’t prove himself by being useful or even marginally competent—so he starts having visions. Next thing you know, Nyef’s going to be giving us the Oversoul’s orders and bossing us all around.”

“No I’m not,” said Nafai. “I saw the visions.”

“Right,” said Mebbekew. “I saw visions last night, too. Girls that you don’t even have the gonads to dream of, Nafai. I’ll believe in your dreams of the Oversoul as soon as you’re willing to marry one of the girls from my dreams. I’ll even give you one of the prettiest ones.”

Elemak was laughing, and even Father smiled a little. But Mebbekew’s taunts only filled Nafai with rage. “I’m telling you the truth,” he insisted. “I’m telling you what the Oversoul is trying to accomplish!”

“I’d rather think about what the girls in my dreams were trying to accomplish,” said Meb.

“That’s enough of such vulgarity,” said Father. But he was chuckling. It was the crudest blow, that Father plainly believed Elemak about Nafai making up his visions.

So when Elemak and Mebbekew left to see to the animals, Nafai remained behind with Father and Issib.

“Why aren’t you going?” said Father. “Issib can’t help with chores like that, here where his floats don’t work. But
you
can help.”

“Father,” said Nafai, “I thought that
you
would believe me.”

“I do,” said Father. “I believe you honestly want to be part of the work of the Oversoul. I honor you for it, and maybe some of your dreams
did
come from the Oversoul.
But don’t try to tell such things to your older brothers. They won’t take it from you.” He chuckled bitterly. “They barely endure it coming from me.”

“I believe Nafai,” said Issib. “They weren’t dreams, either. He was awake, by the stream. I saw him come back to the tent, wet and cold.”

Nafai had never been so grateful to anyone, to have Issib back him up. He didn’t have to do it, either. Nafai had half expected Issib to
stop
believing him, if Father wasn’t taking him seriously.

“I believe him, too,” said Father. “But the things you were saying were far more specific than anything the Oversoul tells us in visions. So I’m just saying that there’s probably a kernel of truth in what you’re saying. But most of it must have come from your own imagination, and I for one am not going to try to sort it out, not tonight.”

“I believed
you
,” said Nafai.

“Not at first,” said Father. “And we don’t trade belief like favors. We give belief and trust where they are earned. Don’t expect me to be any quicker to believe
you
than you were to believe
me
.”

Abashed, Nafai got up from the rug. Father’s tent was so large that he didn’t have to duck when he stood upright. “I was blind at first, when you told me what you saw. But now I see that you’re deaf, so you can’t possibly hear the things I’ve heard.”

“Help your brother back into his chair,” said Father. “And watch how you speak to your father.”

That night, in their tent, Issib tried to console Nafai. “Father’s the
father,
Nafai. It can’t be good news to him, to have his youngest son getting so much more information from the Oversoul than
he’s
ever received.”

“Maybe I’m more attuned to it or something,” said
Nafai. “I can’t help it. But what difference does it make, who the Oversoul talks to? Wasn’t Gaballufix supposed to believe Father, even though Father is below his station in the Palwashantu clan?”

“Below his office, maybe,” said Issib, “but not below his
station.
If Father had wanted to be clan leader, he would have been chosen—he’s the Wetchik by birth, isn’t he? That’s why Gaballufix has always hated him—because he knows that if Father hadn’t despised politics, he could have wiped out Gaballufix’s power and influence easily, right from the start.”

But Nafai didn’t want to talk about Basilican politics now. He fell silent, and in the silence spoke again to the Oversoul. You have to make Father believe me, he said. You have to show Father what’s really happening. You can’t show me a vision and then not help me persuade Father.

“
I
believe you, Nyef,” Issib whispered. “And I believe in what the Oversoul is trying to do. Maybe that’s all the Oversoul needs, did you think of that? Maybe the Oversoul doesn’t need Father to believe you right now. So just accept it. Trust the Oversoul.”

Nafai looked at Issib, but in the darkness of night inside the tent couldn’t tell whether his brother’s eyes were open or not. Had it really been Issib speaking, or was Issib asleep, and had Nafai heard the words of the Oversoul in Issib’s voice?

“Someday, Nyef, it may come down to what Elemak said. You may have to give orders to your brothers. Even to Father. Do you think the Oversoul will leave you to yourself then?”

No, it couldn’t be Issib. He was hearing the Oversoul in Issib’s voice, saying things that Issib could never say. And now that he realized that he had his answer, he could
sleep again. But before he slept, questions formed in his mind:

What if the Oversoul is telling me more than Father, not because it’s part of a plan, but simply because I’m the only one who can hear and understand?

What if the Oversoul is counting on me to be able to figure out a way to persuade the others, because the Oversoul hasn’t the power to convince them anymore?

What if I’m truly alone, except for this one brother who believes me—the one brother who is crippled, and therefore can do nothing?

Belief is not
nothing
, said the voice whispering in Nafai’s mind. Issib’s belief in you is the only reason you haven’t yet started doubting it yourself.

Tell Father, Nafai pleaded as he drifted off to sleep. Speak to Father, so he’ll believe me.

The Oversoul spoke to Father in the night, but not with any vision that Nafai had hoped for.

“I saw the four of you going back to Basilica,” said Father.

“About time,” said Mebbekew.

“Going back, but for a single purpose,” said Father. “To get the Index and bring it back to me.”

“The Index?” asked Elemak.

“It’s been with the Palwashantu clan from the beginning. I believe that it might have been the reason the clan has preserved its identity for all these years. We were once called the Keepers of the Index, and my father told me that it was the right of the Wetchiks to use it.”

“Use it for what?” asked Mebbekew.

“I’m not sure,” said Father. “I’ve only seen it a few times. My grandfather left it with the clan council when he began traveling, and my father never made any serious effort to get it back after Grandfather died. Now it’s in
Gaballufix’s house. But from the name of it, I’d guess it’s a guide to a library.”

“How useful,” said Elemak. “And for
this
you’re sending us back to Basilica? To get an object whose purpose you don’t understand.”

“To get it and bring it back to me. No matter the cost.”

“Do you mean that?” said Elemak. “No matter the cost?”

“It’s what the Oversoul wanted. I knew it—even though I—it’s not my personal feeling. I want you back here, safe.”

“Right,” said Mebbekew. “It’s as good as done. No problem.”

“Should we bring back more supplies?” asked Nafai.

“There won’t be more supplies,” said Father. “I told Rashgallivak to sell all the caravaning supplies.”

Nafai could see Elemak’s face turn red under its dark tan. “So when our exile is over, Father, how do you propose we restore our business?”

It was a cusp of decision, Nafai could see that: Elemak was facing the fact that Father’s actions were intended to be irrevocable. If Elya was going to rebel, it would be over this, which he could only see as the squandering of his inheritance. So Father spoke plainly in giving his reply.

“I don’t propose to restore anything,” said Father. “Do what I say, Elemak, or it won’t matter to
you
what the Wetchik fortune is or is not.”

There it was. It couldn’t be more clear. If Elemak was ever to be Wetchik himself, he’d better obey the present Wetchik’s commands.

Mebbekew cackled. “I never liked all those smelly animals anyway,” said Mebbekew. “Who needs them?” His message was just as clear: I’ll gladly become Wetchik
in your place, Elemak—so please go ahead and get Father really really angry.

“I’ll bring you your Index, Father,” said Elemak. “But why send these others? Let me go alone. Or let me take Mebbekew, and keep the younger boys with you. Neither of them will be any use to me.”

“The Oversoul showed me all four of you going,” said Father. “So all four of you will go to Basilica, and all four of you will return. Do you understand me?”

“Perfectly,” said Elemak.

“Last night you made fun of Nafai, because he claimed to be having visions,” said Father. “But I tell you that you could learn a great deal from Nafai and Issib.
They,
at least, are making an effort to help. All I hear from my two elder sons is complaint.”

Mebbekew glared pointedly at Nafai, but Nafai was more afraid of Elemak, who simply gazed steadily at Father through heavy-lidded eyes. Last night you wouldn’t believe me, Father, Nafai said silently. Now today you make my brothers hate me even more than before.

“You know much, Elemak, Mebbekew,” said Father, “but in all your learning you never seem to have mastered the concept of loyalty and obedience. Learn it from your younger brothers, and then you’ll be worthy of the wealth and honors you aspire to.”

That’s it, Nafai said silently. I’m dead now. I might as well be a worm in their bread, the way they’ll treat me on this whole trip. I’d rather stay home than go under these conditions, Father, thank you kindly.

“Father, I’ll do all that you ask,” said Elemak. But his voice was quiet and cold, and it made Nafai sick at heart to hear it.

Elemak sullenly set about preparing for the trip. As Nafai expected, Elya ignored him completely when he
asked what he should do to help. And Mebbekew shot him such a look that Nafai felt a thrill of fear run through him. He wants me dead, he thought. Meb wants me to die.

Since he wasn’t permitted to help, and since it would obviously be wiser for him to be as inconspicuous as possible for the next while, Nafai went back to the tent he shared with Issib and helped his brother pack up, which mostly consisted of wrapping his floats and stowing them in a bag. He could see in Issib’s eyes as he looked hungrily at the floats that it didn’t matter to Issib what Elemak or Mebbekew thought of him—he wanted to be back where his body was usable again, where he was free and didn’t have to be dressed or taken outside to void himself like an infant or a pet. Such a prisoner he is, trapped in that body, thought Nafai. And then the job was done and Issib was in his chair, hovering over the ground looking like some ill-tempered monarch on his throne. He was impatient to go, impatient to return to Basilica.