The Ships of Earth: Homecoming: Volume 3 (16 page)

Yet Volemak could explain none of this to the people gathered around him, because he knew that these feelings were his own. Not really part of the dream itself, but rather his own responses to the dream, and perhaps not even what the dream was supposed to mean.

“The people in the building looked out at us who were gathered by the tree, and they pointed and laughed, and I could hear them ridiculing us for having been duped into standing around eating fruit when we could really experience life if we would only come over the river and join them. Join the party.”

“Yes,” whispered Obring sharply.

“I saw a lot of the ones who had tasted the fruit drop
what was left of it onto the grass and head for the river, to cross it and get to the building, and many who had never tasted it or even come near the tree also headed for the endless party going on there. Some of them drowned in the river, were swept away downstream, but many of them made it across and went to the building, dripping wet, and went inside, and I saw them come to the windows and point at us and laugh. But I wasn’t angry with them, because now I saw something I hadn’t seen before. The river was filthy, you see. Raw sewage floating in it. All the garbage of an unfastidious city was flowing downstream, and when they got out of the water, that’s what was dripping from their clothing, that’s what they smelled like when they entered the party, and inside the building, everybody there was covered with the sludge from the river, and the smell was unspeakable. And when you looked into the building you could see that no one actually enjoyed being near anybody else, because of the filth and stench. They’d come together for a short time, but then the vileness of the other person’s clothing would drive them away. And yet nobody seemed to realize that—they all seemed so eager to cross the river and get into the party. They all seemed to be afraid that they’d be turned away if they didn’t hurry and get there
now
.”

Volemak sat straighter, leaned back on the rock he was sitting on. “That was all. Except that even at the end, I found myself looking for Elemak and Mebbekew, hoping they’d come join me at the tree. Because I still had that fruit in my hand, the taste of it in my mouth. And it was still delicious and perfect, and it didn’t fade away; each bite of it was better than the one before, and I wanted all my family, all my
friends
to have it. To be part of the
life
of it. And then I knew that I was waking up—you know how it is in a dream—and I thought, I can still taste it. I can still feel the fruit in my hands. How wonderful—now I’ll be able to bring it to Elya and Meb and they can taste it for themselves, because if they once taste it they’ll join the rest of us at the tree. And then I really woke up and found that my hands were empty, and Rasa was asleep beside
me having her own dream and so she hadn’t tasted the fruit after all, and Nafai and Issib were still in their tents, and it hadn’t happened.”

Volemak leaned forward again. “But I could still taste it. I can taste it now. That’s why I had to tell you. Even though the Oversoul denies that he sent the dream to me, it felt more real, more true than any dream I’ve ever had before. No, it felt—it
feels
—more real than reality, and while I ate the fruit I was more alive than I’ve ever been in life. Does this mean anything to you?”

“Yes, Volya,” said Rasa. “More than you know.”

There was a general murmur of assent, and Volemak could see, looking around the group, that most of them looked thoughtful, and many of them had been moved—perhaps more by Volemak’s own emotions than by the tale of the dream itself, but at least something about it had touched them. He had done what he could to share his experience with them.

“In fact it’s made me really hungry,” said Dol. “All that talk about fruit and stuff.”

“And the sewage in the river. Mm-mmmm,” said Kokor. “What’s for supper?”

They laughed. The seriousness of the mood was broken. Volemak couldn’t be angry, though. He couldn’t expect that they would spend the rest of their lives transformed by his dream.

But it
does
mean something. Even if it didn’t come from the Oversoul, it’s true, and it matters, and I’ll never forget it. Or if I do, I’ll be the poorer for it.

Those who had worked on supper got up to check on the food and begin to serve it. Rasa came and sat beside Volemak and put her arm around him. Volemak looked for Issib and saw that he had tearstains down his cheeks, and Nafai and Luet were walking arm-in-arm, thoughtful and tender with each other—so good, so right, the two of them. Most of the others Volemak barely knew. His gaze instinctively glided over and past them, searching for Mebbekew and Elemak. And when he saw them he was surprised, for they looked neither moved nor angry. In
fact, if Volemak could have put a name on what he saw in their faces, he would have called it fear.

How could they hear this dream and be afraid?

“He’s setting us up for later,” whispered Mebbekew. “This whole dream thing, with us cut off from the family—he’s going to disinherit us both.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Elemak. “He’s just letting us know that he knows about what happened on the desert, and he isn’t going to make a big fuss about it, but he
knows
. So this is probably the end of it—unless one of us does something really stupid.”

Meb looked at him coldly. “As I recall, it was
you
who pointed the pulse at Nafai on the desert, not
me
. So let’s not point the finger and call people stupid.”

“I seem to remember a more recent incident,” said Elemak.

“Of which you were the only witness. Even darling Nyef had no idea, and in fact it isn’t even true, you made it all up, you sorry pizdook.”

Elemak ignored the epithet. “I hope I never look as stupid as Father did, crying in front of everybody—about a dream.”

“Yes, everybody’s stupid except Elemak,” said Mebbekew. “You’re so smart you fart through your nose.”

Elemak could not believe how disgustingly childish Meb could be. “Are we still twelve, Meb? Do we still think rhyming
smart
with
fart
is clever?”

“That was the irony of it, you poor thick-headed lummox,” said Meb in his most charming voice. “Only you’re so smart you never understand irony. No wonder you think everybody around you is dumb—you never understand what they’re saying, so you think they must not be speaking intelligibly. Let me tell you the secret that everybody else in this camp knows, Elya, my pet brother. You may know how to get through the desert alive, but it’s the only thing you
do
know. Even Eiadh jokes with the other women that you finish with her so quickly she doesn’t even have time to notice you’ve started. You don’t even
know how to please a woman, and Elya, let me tell you, they’re all
very
easy to please.”

Elemak let the insults and the innuendos slide off him. He knew Meb when he was in these moods. When they were both boys, Elemak used to beat him up when he got this way—but then it finally dawned on him that this was exactly what Mebbekew wanted. As if he didn’t mind the pain as long as he got to see Elemak so angry and red-faced, sweating, with sore hands from pounding on Mebbekew’s bones. Because then Meb knew he was in control.

So Elemak didn’t let himself be goaded. Instead he left Meb and joined the others getting their supper at the cookfire. Eiadh was serving from the stewpot—there hadn’t been time to cook the hare, so the only meat in it was jerky, but Rasa had made sure to pack plenty of spices so at least there’d be some flavor to the soup tonight. And Eiadh looked so lovely ladling it out into the bowls that Elemak was filled with longing for her. He knew well that Meb was lying—Eiadh had nothing to complain about in their lovemaking—and if there wasn’t a baby in her, there would be soon. That knowledge tasted sweet indeed to Elemak. This is what I was searching for in all those journeys. And if that’s what Father meant by his tree of life—taking part in the great enterprise of love and sex and birth and life and death—then Elemak had indeed tasted of the fruit of that tree, and it
was
delicious, more than anything else that life had to offer. So if Father thought that Elemak would be shamed because he didn’t come to the tree in Father’s dream, then he’d be disappointed, because Elemak was already at the tree and didn’t need Father to show him the way.

After supper, Nafai and Luet headed for the Index tent. They would have gone before eating, they were that eager—but they knew that there’d.be no stock of food for snacking later. They had to eat when meals were served. So now, as darkness fell, they parted the door and stepped
inside—only to find Issib and Hushidh already there, their hands together on the Index.

“Sorry,” said Luet.

“Join us,” said Hushidh. “We’re asking for an explanation of the dream.”

Luet and Nafai laughed. “Even though it’s perfectly clear what it means?”

“So Father told you that, too,” said Issib. “Well, I suppose he’s right—it’s sort of a general moral lesson about taking care of your family and ignoring the fun life and all that—like the books they give to children to persuade them to be good.”

“But,” said Nafai.

“But why
now?
Why
us?
” said Issib. “That’s what we’re asking.”

“Don’t forget that he saw what the rest of us have seen,” said Luet. “What General Moozh saw.”

“What do you mean?” asked Issib.

“He wasn’t there,” Hushidh reminded them. “I haven’t told him yet—about my dream.”

“We saw dreams,” said Luet. “And even though all our dreams were different, they all had something in common. We all saw these hairy flying creatures—I thought of them as angels, though they don’t look particularly sweet. And the Oversoul told us that General Moozh saw them also—Hushidh’s and my father. And our mother, too, the woman called Thirsty who stopped Hushidh from being married to General Moozh. And the ones on the ground, too ...”

Hushidh spoke up. “I saw the ratlike ones eating—someone’s children. Or trying to.”

“And Father’s dream is part of all that,” said Luet, “because even though it’s different from the others, it still has the rats and the angels in it. Remember that he said he saw some flying, and some scurrying along the ground? But he knew they were people, too.”

“I remember that now,” said Issib. “But he skipped right over it.”

“Because he didn’t realize that that was the sign,” said Luet.

“Of what?”

“That the dream didn’t come from the Oversoul,” said Luet.

“But Father already said that,” said Issib. “The Oversoul told him.”

“Ah, but whom
did
it come from?” asked Nafai. “Did the Oversoul tell him
that?
”

“The Keeper of Earth,” said Luet.

“Who is
that?
” asked Issib.

“That’s the one that the Oversoul wants to go back to Earth to see,” said Luet. “That’s the one we’re
all
going to go back there to see. Don’t you understand? The Keeper of Earth is calling us all in our dreams, one by one, telling us things. And what happened in Father’s dream
is
important because it really does come from the Keeper. If we could just put it together and understand it . . .”

“But something coming from Earth—it would have to travel faster than light,” said Issib. “Nothing can do that.”

“Or it sent these dreams a hundred years ago, at lightspeed,” said Nafai.

“Sent dreams to people who aren’t even born?” said Luet. “I thought you had dropped that idea.”

“I still think that the dreams might be sort of—in the air,” said Nafai. “And whichever of us is sleeping when the dream arrives, has the dream.”

“Not possible,” said Hushidh. “My dream was far too specific.”

“Maybe you just worked the Keeper’s stuff into your own dream,” said Nafai. “It’s possible.”

“No it isn’t,” said Hushidh. “It was all of a piece, my dream. If any of it came from the Keeper of Earth, it all did. And the Keeper knew me. Do you understand what that means? The Keeper knew me and she knew . . . everything.”

Silence fell over the group for a moment.

“Maybe the Keeper is only sending these dreams to the people it
wants
to have come back,” said Issib.

“I hope you’re wrong,” said Nafai. “Because I haven’t had one like that yet. I haven’t seen these rats and angels.”

“Neither have I,” said Issib. “I was thinking that maybe—”

“But you were in
my
dream,” said Hushidh, “and if the Keeper is calling to me, she wants you, too.”

“And we were both in Father’s dream,” said Nafai. “Which is why we have to find out what it meant. It’s obviously more than just telling us to be good. In fact, if that’s what it was for it did a pretty lousy job, since it made Elemak and Mebbekew furious to be singled out in the dream because they refused to come to the tree.”

“So join us,” said Issib. “Touch the Index and ask.”

The longer arm of Issib’s chair held the Index so he could rest his hand on it; the others gathered near and touched it, too. Touched it and questioned it, asking over and over again, silently in their minds . . .

“No,” said Issib, “nothing’s happening. It doesn’t work this way. We have to be clear.”

“Then speak for us,” said Hushidh. “Ask the question for all of us.”

With their hands all on the Index, Issib put voice to their questions. He asked; they waited. He asked again. They waited again. Nothing.

“Come on,” said Nafai. “We’ve done everything you asked. Even if all you can tell us is that you’re as confused as we are, at least tell us
that
.”

The voice of the Index came at once: “I’m as confused as you are.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so from the start?” asked Issib in disgust.

“Because you weren’t asking me what
I
thought of it, you were asking what it means. I was trying to figure it out. I can’t.”

“You mean you haven’t yet,” said Nafai.

“I mean I can’t,” said the Index. “I don’t have enough information. I can’t intuit the way you humans do. My mind is too simple and direct. Don’t ask me to do more than I’m capable of. I know everything that is knowable
by observation, but I can’t guess what the Keeper of Earth is trying to do, and you exhaust me when you demand that I try to do it.”