Ellen Datlow - SciFiction Originals vol 3

SCI FICTION

ORIGINALS

edited by Ellen Datlow

3

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OMNIBOOKS Publishing & Printing, Ltd.

Table of Contents

Barry B. Longyear: Silent Her .................................

Gavin J. Grant: Editing for Content ...........................

Howard Waldrop and Leigh Kennedy: One Horse Town

Steven Utley: Five Miles from Pavement ...................

A. R. Morlan: Cat in the Box ...................................

John W. Randal: Bad Animals ................................

Terry Dowling: The Lagan Fishers ............................

M. Shayne Bell: Refugees from Nulongwe ................

Gene Wolfe: Copperhead ........................................

Ian R. MacLeod: New Light on the Drake Equation ....

Simon Ings: Russian Vine ......................................

Jeffrey Ford: Floating in Lindrethool .........................

Michael Cassutt: Beyond the End of Time ................

Dave Hutchinson: Discreet Phenomena ...................

James P. Blaylock: His Own Backyard ....................

About the Authors ..................................................

About the Editor ....................................................

Barry B. Longyear

SILENT HER

The light was lavender, the light was white, the light was red. When the light was white, they would come,

their heads hidden in black mists.

The one with the hard mouth would be there. Sometimes alone, sometimes with another, but always the

one with the hard mouth would come.

Hard Mouth brought the pain and the anger. Silent Her hated Hard Mouth. The light brought Hard Mouth.

Silent hated the light.

The white light would creep in through the window, climb the wall with the spots of yellow and blue, and

Silent would be afraid as Silent's eyes filled with tears, smearing the light.

Silent loved the dark and clung to it. The dark was safe. It was solitude, aloneness, quiet, an absence of

pain. But only the dark that came when the light went away was safe. The darks that came when Silent hid in

the cover, or closed the eyes, or held the hands over the eyes, these were not safe.

Silent believed that if the light could be stopped from moving, Hard Mouth would stay away. The edge of

the light touched the window and Silent tensed with wishes to the light to go back. Silent shook fists, shed

tears, and the light did not stop. The light advanced until it filled that corner of the place. Then Hard Mouth

came.

One time the light did not begin as lavender and change to white. It began dim and gray. It was so dim

and so gray that Silent could hardly see the colored spots on the wall. Surely it was too dim for Hard Mouth

to come.

Silent laughed a silent laugh, pulled at the toes, for Silent had won. The light had stopped and Hard Mouth

would stay away.

There was a sound. It was followed by Hard Mouth's head hidden in its black mist. Silent's universe

shattered. Silent had failed; the wishes had failed. Only the light and its monster Hard Mouth had succeeded.

Then followed pain. Then followed anger.

There was another black mist that would come. The other had kind lips. Kind Lips would always stand on that

side and look down at Silent with soft, dark eyes. Kind Lips had dark hair, eyes of love, and a mouth that

never looked angry.

Hard Mouth would stand at the other side when Kind Lips was there. Hard Mouth's hair was like the yellow

light. The eyes were as blue as the tiny spots on the wall, narrow and angry. The lips were hard and pressed

tightly together.

Kind Lips reached in a hand and stroked Silent's hair.

Hard Mouth reached in a hand and pinched Silent's arm.

Kind Lips pushed Hard Mouth away, and as the sounds of them struggling filled Silent's ears, the pain

wouldn't go away.

Again the white light crawled up the wall. As it moved, Silent determined that Hard Mouth would never pinch

Silent again. To do that Silent would have to stop Hard Mouth. To stop Hard Mouth Silent would have to hurt

Hard Mouth. If Hard Mouth put a hand near Silent, instead of Hard Mouth pinching Silent, Silent would pinch

Hard Mouth.

Silent held a hand up. The fingers were much smaller than Hard Mouth's fingers. Silent tried to pinch the

arm that was always in pain, but the pinching didn't hurt.

Silent stuck a finger in the mouth, bit it hard, and Silent's eyes filled with tears. That hurt. Silent

determined to bite Hard Mouth's fingers. That would stop Hard Mouth.

There was the sound. Silent listened carefully. It was Kind Lips and Hard Mouth, yet something different.

There were other sounds.

A third figure appeared. It was horribly pink and naked. It had no black mist shading its features, and it

had no hair on its head. Hard Mouth and Kind Lips both wore coverings of black. Shiny Head's coverings were

pale yellow. Shiny Head stood at one foot next to Kind Lips.

Silent looked and there was another one standing there. The new one had no black mist, but the new one

did have light brown hair. Instead of black or yellow, Hairy Head's coverings were pale green.

Kind Lips raised a hand and moved fingers at Shiny Head. Shiny Head frowned at the moving fingers and

said to Hairy Head, "Minister Amin, I do not read Mogam." Amazing sounds.

"I thought everyone read it, save a few fanatics," replied Hairy Head. "Not that I'm implying you're a fanatic,

of course."

"Of course," answered Shiny Head.

Hairy Head leaned over and lifted the cover from Silent. "My first wife signed that you should look at my

second wife's daughter's right arm, Father Yadin. Look here."

Shiny Head moved in front of Hard Mouth, bent over, and reached toward Silent. His fingers were cold and

moist as they picked up the arm and turned it. The arm hurt.

"This bruising is terrible!" Shiny Head stood up and turned toward Hard Mouth. "Woman, don't you

understand? You are causing your daughter terrible pain. This could cause permanent damage. Do you

understand?" Shiny Head turned toward Kind Lips. "Does she understand anything?"

Kind Lips nodded and looked up at Hairy Head. Kind Lips moved fingers at Hairy Head for a long time.

Hairy Head said, "She understands."

"Forgive me, Minister Amin, but I'm certain that she signed more."

"Yes. She did." Hairy Head seemed to struggle his words out from a great pain. "My second wife believes

the child can speak. The reason she pinches her is to make her give voice. She's trying to force the child to

cry out."

Shiny Head frowned as he looked first at Hard Mouth, then down at the child. After a moment he looked

up at Hairy Head. "How long has this been going on? Some of these bruises are weeks old."

Hairy Head disappeared from view. His voice came from a distance. "Since the child was born." Hairy

Head's face came back into view. He looked at Hard Mouth with angry eyes.

"In the birthing hostel, woman, the priests told you that your daughter cannot speak. Do you expect this

scrap to change the world? I told you your daughter cannot speak. I was even there when the girl brought you

your baby. I saw what she told you."

Hairy Head touched fingers to lips and then held the hand down as a fist. " 'Silent her,' the girl signed to

you. Do you remember?"

Hard Mouth looked afraid, but Hard Mouth also looked angry. Hard Mouth began moving fingers at Hairy

Head, but Hairy Head slapped down Hard Mouth's hand.

"No!" shouted Hairy Head. "You did not hear her cry! You could not have heard her cry! What you heard

was her twin brother, your son, Rahman. That's all you heard."

Again Hard Mouth lifted a hand and again Hairy Head slapped it down. "No! If you thought you heard two

babies cry, the priests explained it was a trick the drugs played on your ears." Hairy Head let out a sigh.

"You must stop this. Please stop this."

"Allow me, minister," said Shiny Head.

Hard Mouth's eyes filled with tears. Hard Mouth pulled away and went out of view. Shiny Head nodded at

Hairy Head. "It is a severe problem, but it's more common than one might think."

"What is it?"

"The women pray for an end to the Curse—I suppose all of them do. However, some of them believe so

strongly in the end of the Curse, they enter a world of fantasy and imagine all sorts of things. I once had a

patient whose eldest daughter imagined that she could speak. She was over twenty years old and would

stand there moving her lips—"

"Father Yadin," interrupted Hairy Head, "Please, get to the point."

Shiny Head rubbed its chin and frowned. "Usually this sort of thing only goes on for a few minutes or

hours. A few days at most, although I do know of a case that went on for over nine years."

Hairy Head glanced down at Silent. "My daughter is nine weeks old."

"Your second wife needs help, minister. It's a kind of help I'm really not qualified to give. With your

permission, I will make arrangements at a suitable facility."

"Suitable facility?"

"Yes."

"A madhouse?"

Shiny Head frowned. "The madhouse is an ancient figment from the father planet. I was speaking of a

specialized hospital where—"

"Impossible." Hairy Head rubbed its eyes, glanced at Kind Lips, and said to Shiny Head, "That is quite

impossible, father."

"I assure you the facility is very discreet and—"

"Discreet? My family and I are in the public eye, father. Outside my estate there is no such thing as

discretion, and damned little within it." Hairy Head took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "I apologize for

my language, father."

"There's no need."

"I cannot accept the risk. I have a responsibility to the Reformists and to my good friend Mikael Yucel.

Aside from that, there is my position to consider. My son Rahman will inherit my estates, my position, my

investments, and influence on this and other worlds, and the responsibilities for all of them. I cannot risk it

being known that his mother is troubled."

Hairy Head fell silent for a moment. Hairy Head resumed speaking with a low voice. "You know what can

be made of such things by the news, by the off-world traders, by the orthodoxy—especially by the

orthodoxy."

"Perhaps a visiting therapist, then?" implored Shiny Head.

Hairy Head stared at Silent for a long time before looking at Hard Mouth. "Very well. I will leave it to you to

find someone who can keep our confidence." Hairy Head looked at Shiny Head. "There are only a few

persons who know about this, and I know who they all are. If any of this gets out, I'll know to whom to send

my operatives."

"I understand," answered Shiny Head.

"Make certain your therapist understands as well."

"Yes, minister."

"Make any arrangements with my secretary, Razi." Hairy Head nodded toward the door and there was a

figure standing there with a glittering thing hanging from its neck.

"As you wish, minister."

Hairy Head went out of view and Glitterneck followed. There was a noise. Kind Lips bent over and tucked

in Silent's cover as Shiny Head returned.

"Here," said Shiny Head as Shiny Head handed a small vial filled with blue liquid to Kind Lips. "Rub it on

the bruised area. It will reduce the swelling, relieve the pain, and remove the discoloration. Do you

understand?"

Kind Lips nodded.

Shiny Head nodded toward Hard Mouth. "Keep that one away from the baby. I'm going to tell the

minister's secretary to have her locked up where she will no longer be a danger to the child, or to herself.

After the therapist sees her..." Shiny Head seemed to get angry. "Look who I'm talking to." He pointed to

where Hard Mouth was. "Just keep her out of this room. Can you do that?"

Kind Lips placed hands over her face and bowed toward Shiny Head. Shiny Head reached down and

moved his hand as he said, "In the name of Alilah and his Messengers, in the name of the Enlightener, bless

and protect this female. Amen."

Shiny Head went away. Kind Lips poured some of the blue liquid onto a hand and reached toward Silent.

Silent was afraid for the arm, but as the delicious coolness touched it, the pain went away.

Silent lifted up a hand to touch Kind Lips's face—

Suddenly the world turned over and Silent fell, a cold hard surface striking Silent's cheek. It was dark and

Silent could hear crashes and thumps. Silent hid in the darkness and cried for the pain.

The light invaded Silent's hiding place and Silent could see Hard Mouth and Kind Lips struggling. Hard

Mouth picked up something and struck Kind Lips in the head. Kind Lips fell to the floor.

Hard Mouth knelt and began coming closer and closer. Hard Mouth pulled the black mist off its yellow hair

and came to a stop. Hard Mouth looked down, moved fingers, and pointed at Silent. Then Hard Mouth

reached down and slapped Silent's face right where the cold hard surface had hit it.

Silent cried and screamed, but she made only the same quiet hiss that Hard Mouth made as Hard Mouth

continued to slap and slap at Silent's face. An edge of dark softness came as Glitterneck rushed into the

room. Glitterneck's arm went around Hard Mouth's throat and pulled Hard Mouth away. Glitterneck bellowed

angrily at Hard Mouth as the world became very dark.

In the wonderful-smelling room with the great hot iron cookers, she waved her arms and cried without voice as

Kind Lips put the filmy black veil over her head.

Twice she had pulled it off, and twice Kind Lips had replaced it, each time making signs with her fingers.

There were signs she could read and signs she couldn't. The signs that stood for her, the single finger to the

lips followed by the downward-held fist, she could read. The man in white who made the cooking smells and

banged the huge silver pots said the signs said "Silent Her." She did not believe him because no one had

such a silly name.

Kind Lips wasn't making those signs. Kind Lips was holding up fingers, holding down fingers, making fists,

and looking very worried. She thought Kind Lips was playing, so she reached out and pulled the veil from her

head once again. She laughed without voice as Kind Lips sat back upon her heels.

She felt a hard slap upon her buttocks. It stung and she cried. The veil was placed upon her head by an

unseen hand, and she cried as she saw the tall one in white dusting off his hands as he went back to the

sink. The one in white had a word-name, and it was Onan. The other man, Nabil, had called him that.

Onan turned and looked down at Kind Lips. "It's the only way Silent'll ever learn." Onan dried his hands

and returned to the huge silver pots he was supervising as he gave orders to three helpers with names and

four helpers without names.

Kind Lips reached within the folds of her black dress and withdrew something. She held it out, but the one

whose name was a finger held to the lips followed by a downward-held fist could only look through her tears

and hold her hands upon her bottom.

After a moment she sniffed and looked at the object in Kind Lips's hand. It was a beautiful golden thing

with a six-pointed star enclosing a cross with a curved point on the bottom. There was a thin golden chain

with it. She wanted to look at it more closely and she drew it beneath her veil. It was so shiny. Kind Lips

reached beneath the child's veil and put the chain around the child's neck.

"If you keep giving that brat presents every time it gets paddled, she'll never learn anything."

Kind Lips stood up and walked away. Onan stirred at a pot and soured up his face as he said,

"Fuzzywriggles! May the Messengers carry word of my suffering."

He took a wooden spoon and dipped it into one of the silver pots. Bringing the spoon out, he sniffed at it,

wrinkled up his nose, and blew upon it.

"Here, girl." Onan lifted the front of her veil and touched the spoon to her lips. She tasted the hot liquid and

it was sharp-flavored, but sweet. It filled her nose with heady aromas.

"I guess you like it. I suppose it's all right then for the Fuzzywriggles." He placed the spoon in a drip boat

and went to a counter where he began chopping things with his huge, wicked-looking knife. In the middle of

his chopping, he stopped and glared at her.

"Girl, have you ever laid eyes on one of those fuzzywriggles?"

She shook her head.

Onan nodded. "You pray from Abraham to Kamil that you never meet one. They eat little girls."

She shook her head. That was too horrible to be true. No one ate little girls.

The cook raised his eyebrows. "We can't keep a veil on her head, and now she questions a man's word.

You have Magda's salt in you, and that's the truth."

Onan dried his hands on a cloth and said, "Come with me, girl. I'll show you what the fuzzywriggles eat."

He went to another counter. "You see, tonight your father is entertaining many important men, including

his friend the new first minister, Mikael Yucel." His hands swept together some things on the counter. He

glanced over his shoulder at the girl. "There'll be five fuzzywriggles there, too, and I've been given my orders to

feed 'em proper."

He swung around and held out a handful of silky brown threads. He thrust the bundle into her face and

shouted, "Hair! This is hair, girl! Dozens of pigtails I had to lop off the heads of little girls before I boil 'em up!"

The cook leered as he said, "The fuzzywriggles can't abide the hair, see? It makes the eyeballs hard to

digest."

He bellowed out his laughter as she crawled between the hot iron ranges to a place dark and safe next to

the wall. With Onan still laughing at his fine joke, she noticed a number of the fine brown strands on the

polished stone floor. She crept between the hot ranges until she could reach out a hand and pinch up a bit of

the hair.

She sat back in her dark place and felt the strands. It felt like hair. She smelled it. With all of the other

smells in the kitchen it was hard to tell what the strands smelled like. She tasted it and jerked the strands

from her mouth. It was just like hair.

She looked from between the ranges and saw more of the hair. It was protruding from the top of the

garbage pail. When Onan wasn't looking, she slipped from between the ranges and went to the garbage pail.

The hair came out of a strange-looking thing that might have been a flower with large, ear-shaped petals. The

flower grew out of a purple-black shell.

She didn't know what it was, but she knew it wasn't the head of a dead girl. She took the thing out of the

pail by its brown hair and walked around the ranges until she found Onan coming from the pantry with his

arms loaded. She stood in the way and held up the thing.

The cook laughed when he saw her. He placed his burden down upon a counter and said, "Aren't you the

clever little one? Do you know what that is, girl?"

She shook her head.

Onan went to the cool room and returned with a large purple-black lumpy ball. On its top was one of those

flowers with a topknot of brown hair coming out of it.

"This is called a soldier melon, girl. The fuzzywriggles can't get enough of the things."

He went to his cutting counter and picked up his wicked-looking blade. He lopped the lid off the melon and

placed it aside. Holding the ball of the melon down to her so she could see inside, Onan said, "Did you ever

see anything like it?"

The flesh of the melon was pale blue. In the center were bright red seeds suspended in a lavender gel. "Go

ahead," said the cook. "Stick your finger in it and give it a taste."

She touched her finger into the lavender gel and touched the finger to her tongue. Instantly her mouth filled

with the most incredible bitterness. Her throat closed at the taste and she could feel her stomach begin to

retch.

Onan laughed again. "That's the part you don't eat!"

She didn't run from the kitchen. Onan would play tricks on her, but she knew that he would soon feel bad

about it and give her a biscuit, a sweet, or a taste of one of his puddings. She returned to her dark place

behind the ranges to wait.

While she waited she fingered the veil over her head. She rolled the fine fabric between her fingers and

was angry that she was supposed to wear it. She was angry and hurt that she was slapped for not wearing it.

She looked around and decided that she could trust her dark place. No one was small enough to get to

her there. She pulled off her veil, wrinkled her nose at the taste in her mouth, and waited for Onan to call her

for a treat.

The color of female was black. Her dress was black, as were her shoes and veil. The women would sign-call

her Silent Her. Instead of spelling out her name fully in Mogam, the women would abbreviate it by

representing the name Silent with the single finger held to their closed lips. That would be followed by the

downward-held fist that was for the female of anything.

Once when her father was in the kitchen giving instructions to Razi, his secretary, about some building

repairs, she heard her father say that he was the one who had given her the pet name. The name was a

reminder to Duman Amin's second wife that her daughter could not speak.

Women were not allowed to have names, but as the guard Majnun said at the female wing's guard station

one day, "You have to call women something, don't you? It's too chilly to call them 'second wife,' or 'wife of

Majnun.' Too much of that and I'd soon find myself in a pair of hairy arms."

The other guard, Isak, had been listening and had shaken his head. "There is too much of that these

days: men and men. In another few years they'll even be marrying."

Majnun had nodded at Silent Her and had said, "Be off with you, Si. None of this is for your ears."

The men called her Si, or Hush, or Silent.

God had forbidden women to have names, but they had names that were pet names. But pet names were

not real names, so God didn't care about them. "All of that is nothing but Haramite nonsense," said Toi the

gardener. Toi seemed very proud of not being a Haramite. Isak said to Toi, "You had best watch your mouth

before you find yourself in front of a priest's court."

Later, in the kitchen, when Isak had finished complaining about the gardener, Majnun had shrugged and

observed, "Without Duman Amin and the Reformists all of us would be looking at the world through choke

loops."

Kind Lips had a name that was five fingers down and doubled, one finger up, and five fingers down: N-H-R.

That was how Duman's first wife spelled her quiet name, Rihana. If a woman simply made the R sign,

however, all of the females knew that it stood for Rihana, just as everyone knew that the H sign stood for

IaD-H, Duman's second wife whose quiet name was Hedia. Hedia was Silent Her's mother. Silent Her never

saw Hedia because her mother was kept locked up in a room on the third floor of the female wing.

Rahman was a name of mystery. Onan the cook would often say the name as though everyone knew who

Rahman was. There were special meals for Rahman. A special party for Rahman. A holiday celebration for

Rahman. A feast for when Rahman was baptized, another when he was confirmed, another for his birthday,

and yet another on Rahman's first day of school.

On the second floor of the female wing, Rihana was marking on a piece of paper the letters of Mogam as

Silent Her watched. First, from a center line a single vertical line above. Next to the first, a group of two

vertical lines above from the center. Then three, four, and five. Following that, from the center, a single vertical

line down. Then groups of two, three, four, and five all down. Drawing a new center line, Rihana then repeated

the same five groups, but this time going through the line so that each group was above and below the center.

Two more: First, two lines crossed through the center line and, second, a circle cut through its middle by the

center line.

Using words Silent knew the sound of, Rihana marked the beginning sounds: four down for ship, the

sound ess. Two down for light, the sound el. Five down for notch, the sound en. Three up for train, the sound

tee. Then one up for harem, the sound aych. And a group of five all the way through the center for river, the

sound ar.

Rihana then wrote them down in order from right to left, spelling out the child's pet name. Without a

mistake, the girl wrote down the Mogam for Silent Her.

Rihana went through the rest of the letters, marking them with sound-words, and suddenly the girl knew

the meaning of the marks in dust, the little scratches on walls, or on the bark of trees she had seen all her

life.

Rihana signed, "Do you know my pet name?" The girl shook her head and Rihana wrote the single line

straight through for em, the single line down for bee, and the five straight through for ar.

The girl signed, "I can't see how it sounds."

"Someday you will hear your father call me his pet name. Listen for how it sounds. Your mother has a pet

name, too." Rihana marked down the single straight through for em followed by the five down for en. "When

your father mentions her pet name, listen for how it sounds."

The girl frowned as she signed, "There are the quiet names men never speak, and there are the names

that are pet names. They are names for pets like Zizi, Toi's rat-dog. What are our real names?"

Rihana smiled as she signed, "Zizi is the rat-dog's real name. The only names women are allowed are as

parts of men's names. I am Duman's first wife. You are Duman's daughter. Those are the only names we are

allowed."

Silent Her thought of a group of letters she had seen many times. She wrote on the paper the ar, the

aych, the em, and the en. "What is this?" Silent signed.

"That is the name of Rahman. Rahman is your brother. You are twins."

"Is he dead?"

"No, he is not dead. What would make you think that?"

"I never see him. Onan said he hoped the fuzzywriggles got him."

Rihana shook her head and smiled as she signed, "Rahman lives in the other part of the house. That is

why you do not see him. Don't listen to Onan. The Imahnti don't eat children. The traders are a fine people."

Silent Her pouted as she signed, "My brother must be very important."

"Why do you think so?"

"Onan and Nabil are always planning another feast or party for Rahman's this and Rahman's that. They

never plan anything for me."

Rihana's face grew very serious as she signed, "Rahman is Duman's son. He is male." Rihana marked the

sign on the paper. It was the single line up from the center; the aych. "You are Duman's daughter. You are

female." Rihana marked on the paper the circle cut through its center, the double-u sign, the sign of the

downward-held fist.

"The son is very important. Rahman will carry Duman Amin's name and fortune. Rahman is the future of

the house of Amin. Someday you will be married to another house and will go away. Rahman will stay at

home and keep his wives here. That is why Rahman is more important."

"Why don't I have a birthday?"

Rihana's expression became very stern. "Put such questions from your mind. Be grateful that you are

alive. Some families still kill their daughters. Your father would not tolerate such things, even in his friends.

Be grateful for the life you have, and put the life you cannot have out of your mind."

Silent Her did not answer, but for a long time after Rihana had gone, the girl stared at the sign of the

downward-held fist.

She listened as the men spoke in the kitchen and in the garden. On those rare moments when her father

would come to the female wing to talk to the staff or to his first wife, Silent Her listened. Although God had

forbidden names for women, all of the females, even the scrub women, had pet names. The girl now knew

that the em-en of her mother's pet name was Amina, which sounded like ah-mee-nah, which meant peace

and was the name of Muhammad's mother.

Her father's pet name for his first wife, Rihana, was Amber, and it meant jewel. It was a very beautiful pet

name. Silent Her had listened one night when her father had come to the female wing to bring his Amber

back to his bedchamber. Her father's voice had sounded thick and warm.

In signing to each other, women never used pet names. Instead they used their quiet names, their secret

names among women, the names that were given to them by their mothers. When women signed for

Duman's first wife, they never signed for Amber. Instead they signed for Rihana. Even the scrub women were

signed by their quiet names. The one exception in the female wing was Silent Her. She had no quiet name

because her mother hadn't yet given her one and that was because she was forbidden to see her mother. Her

mother was mad.

No one would sign of Duman's second wife if they knew Silent Her was within sight. The men would not

speak of her mother if they knew she was within hearing. Sometimes when Onan didn't know she was hiding

in the dark behind the ranges, Silent Her would hear things. Onan or Nabil or the chauffeur Abi would say

things to each other about her mother.

She listened to the talk because she wanted her name. It was by listening and watching that she found

out where her mother was imprisoned.

"It is sad, it is sad," Onan would say every time after he had sent a girl up to the third floor with a food

tray.

Once Rihana was in her room kneeling on the floor, crying. "Why do you cry?" asked Silent.

Rihana signed, "I cry for my wife-sister, Hedia. I cry for your mother. I cry for you. I cry for myself because

I miss her so."

"We can go and see her," signed the girl. "I know where they keep her."

Rihana studied the girl's eyes. "Child, no one loves your mother more than I do. But every time your

mother comes near you she hurts you. Don't you remember?"

"Still, I would see her."

"Do you miss her?"

The girl shook her head. "I have no name among women. My mother must give me one. That is why I want

to see her. I must have a name."

"I could give you a name."

"No. Your name came from your mother. My mother's name came from her mother. My name must come

from my mother."

Rihana held her by her shoulders and looked into her eyes. Withdrawing her hands she signed, "

Someday."

Silent loved the gardens, even though she was almost never allowed to enter them. On one of the rare days

when Rihana was allowed to take the girl into the gardens, the sun was bright, the sky a hazy blue. The girl

ran from exotic flower to glittering tree. One of the flowers gave off an aroma that made her dizzy, and another

flower had tiny red tendrils that writhed in the warm air. She watched as Toi dropped tiny blue worms into the

tendrils and she held her hands to her face as she saw the flower eat the worms.

They reached a stone bench and Rihana took some fruit from her carrying bag and sat down. "Let's eat

here," she signed.

The girl smiled and bit into the bright orange and lavender skin of a paradise plum. As she ate, she

signed, "Where do paradise plums come from?"

"From the father planet, Earth, and from this world. Two plants got together and made paradise plums."

"They were married?"

Rihana grinned as she nodded.

There were footsteps on the path and Rihana turned her head to look. In an instant she grabbed the girl

and forced her to her knees as she knelt next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder and signed by

pressing her fingers into Silent Her's flesh. "Do as I do. Nothing more."

The girl watched and when she saw Rihana cover her face with her hands and bow her head, she did the

same. The sounds of footsteps grew louder. Silent Her saw a man's legs. On his feet he wore golden slippers

beautifully brocaded with metallic silvers and reds. There were more sounds and the girl started at the sight of

a wriggling mass of snakes and worms covered with black hair.

Quickly she signed to Rihana, "Is that a fuzzywriggle?"

A hand came down and slapped her fingers, making them sting and turn red. Holding her hands together

and sitting back upon her heels, she looked up through her tears and saw that the man in the beautiful

slippers wore a beautiful robe of white and gold. From his neck hung a large golden starcross. He reached

down, grabbed the girl's hands and slapped them again.

"Never do that," commanded the man in the beautiful robe. He looked at Rihana. "Woman, do not let this

child learn the blasphemous finger-talking unless you wish to see her neck in a choke loop. I know there are

families that tolerate such things, but I would remind you that even if the family tolerates it, Alilah does not.

Alilah sees, will not forget, and will not forgive. Neither will I."

"Father," began a strange voice, "perhaps we can continue looking at the gardens?"

The man glared at the girl for a moment longer, then he nodded and turned his back. "I apologize, Trader

Ib, but you see how Reformist households simply flaunt the law."

"Not an easy law to enforce, father."

"And this is why, Trader Ib. This is why."

As the creature led the man away, it moved very smoothly down the path although it seemed to have

nothing for legs. The creature's fur rippled with movement, and here and there a hairy worm or snake would

peek out.

When they were out of sight, Rihana stood, brushed off her dress, and pulled Silent Her next to her on the

bench. "Before you use the finger-talk before a man, you must first know how the man feels about it."

"Who was the man, and why did he hurt me?"

"He is a very important priest and your father's guest. He slapped you because he believes that women

using the finger talk is evil."

"If he is an important priest, shouldn't he know?"

"There are other priests who disagree."

Silent Her rubbed her fingers and sniffed. She turned to Rihana and signed, "Was that a fuzzywriggle?"

"Do not call them fuzzywriggles. It is very unkind. They are called Imahnti."

"Are they like Onan said?"

"What did Onan say?"

"He said they were made out of fur, worms, and snakes."

Rihana sighed as she shook her head and signed, "Those things Onan calls worms and snakes are

appendages like your hands, feet, fingers, and toes."

The girl stood on the stone bench to try and catch another look at the creature. All she could see,

however, was a black thatch moving along a hedge next to the priest's shoulder. One of the snakes seemed

to wriggle from beneath the thatch and wave at her.

"It waved at me," signed the girl. "How could the thing wave at me when it wasn't looking at me?"

Rihana lifted the girl off the bench and placed her on the path. "It is not a thing, child. It is an Imahnti. We

also call them traders. Why it could see you is because they have more than one set of eyes. They have

many eyes."

Silent Her wrinkled up her face. "That's awful."

"Did you ever think how you must look to an Imahnti with your naked skin, those awkward stubs of arms

and legs, and only two eyes?"

The girl laughed in silence as Rihana looked around and signed to her, "It's time for us to be getting back.

I'm certain your father wouldn't have let his guests into the garden if he knew women would be in the way."

They returned to the female wing, and that night Silent Her had two nightmares about snakes and worms

with multiple eyes and long, yellow teeth.

It almost seemed as though Onan never remembered anything he had ever said before. The stories he would

tell, the observations he would make, were all things he had said to Silent Her many times before.

Over the years he had grown so thin he looked gaunt and starved. His nose was thin and large, and he

had big gray eyes that peered from beneath bushy black eyebrows like the stare of some predatory bird. Still

he ruled the kitchen with a sharp cleaver, and no one challenged his authority there.

Before his bank of ranges, Onan issued his pronouncements, moved pots, tasted this, flicked a pinch of

magic spice into that, all of the time creating a cloud of delicious smells. At the oddest moments he would

curse the Imahnti and damn them for being infidels, pagans, aliens, and things without taste buds.

Once as he stirred a soup, Silent Her watched him from a corner. They were alone together.

"By the Jesus and Bab, smell this awful mess, girl. Do you smell it?"

She nodded gravely. Onan was displeased with the soup. There were modern kitchen ranges that

completely eliminated smells of any kind, but when approached by a seller, Onan passed it off with a

disgusted wave of his hand. "I am a chef, not a space pilot." With another stir, he smacked the wooden

spoon on the lip of the silver pot, and placed it in a drip boat. He leaned back against one of his cold ranges

and folded his arms.

"I suppose you like the smell."

She nodded, and it was the truth. She loved Onan's soldier melon and brush pod soup.

The cook shook his head, held his hands up toward God, and said in explanation, "She has never tasted

anything other than these hideous things and spices brought to us by the fuzzywriggles." The cook turned

and went to where Silent Her was standing against the wall. He grabbed her shoulder.

"Come with me, girl."

He turned her and steered her down the servant's corridor beneath the female wing until they came to his

room. He opened the door and pushed her inside. He closed the door and locked it. Picking her up, he placed

her on his bed.

"Now, little Si, do you know what I'm going to show you?"

She shook her head as a sour taste came into the back of her throat.

She knew that it was wrong for her to be there. Shahar, one of the kitchen scrub woman, had warned her

never to be alone with a man. When Silent Her had asked why, Shahar had signed that when she was little a

man had gotten her alone and had done terrible things to her. Silent Her had thought that the scrub woman

was only trying to frighten her, but as she sat upon the cook's bed, the fear made her heart beat rapidly.

"First I'm going to show you a very special book. Close your eyes."

She reached beneath her veil and placed her hands over her eyes. When she heard the cook open a

closet, she peeked through her fingers. Onan returned carrying a book in his hands. It was a very old book.

The cook sat on the bed next to her.

"You can look now."

As she lowered her hands to her lap, Onan pointed at the book. "You can't read, but there are many

beautiful pictures in here. Look." He opened the book and leafed through the pages until he found a colored

picture of a spindly plant with sparse leaves and clumps of pink blossoms.

Ellen Datlow - SciFiction Originals vol 3

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