The Snow Queen

49

So she actually believes she’s going to be chosen Summer Queen. She hears voices telling her she’ll win. Jerusha paced slowly in the rattling emptiness of the Chief Justice’s antechamber, too nervous to sit still on the forlorn assortment of abandoned furniture. Against odds of hundreds to one? No, Jerusha, the universe doesn’t give a damn what she believes… or you do, or anybody else. It doesn’t matter.

There was nothing to distract her mind but the fuzzy negatives of places where things had been and no longer were in this sad, anciently naked room. But a new set of things, and people, would be back in their place when the Change came again to enduring Carbuncle. Things change all the time; but how much of it is real? Does any choice any of us ever makes, no matter how important it seems, really cause a ripple in the greater scheme of things? Passing the window, she saw herself superimposed on the image of the metamorphosing city, studied the reflection silently.

“Commander PalaThion. It was good of you to come. I know how busy you’ve been.” Chief Justice Hovanesse stood in the doorway, held up a hand in courteous welcome, and she managed to forget that she had been kept pacing out here well past the appointed time of the invitation.

She saluted. “I’m never too busy to discuss the Hegemony’s welfare, your honor.” Or mine. Or to watch a man eat his words… She touched his hand politely, and he gestured her ahead of him into the inner room. It was a meeting room, with a long table built out of smaller tables and cluttered with portable terminals. The usual assortment of local Hedge bureaucrats she had come to know and loathe sat around it, intermittent with actual assemblymen, mostly strangers to her. They had, she supposed, been making the last of the obligatory reports on every imaginable aspect of their occupation of Tiamat. Even on a world as unpopulated and underdeveloped as this one the process of departure was leviathan. The few Kharemoughi faces she could see clearly looked exceedingly bored. Thank the gods I’m only a Blue and not a bureaucrat. She remembered that since she had become Commander she had hardly been anything else. But yesterday I was a real officer again.

She stood listening to the patter of their applause, of palms against the table surface, absorbing their reception while she compared it mentally to the one she had been anticipating until yesterday. Most of the civil officials assigned here on Tiamat were from the same part of Newhaven, like most of the police; the Hegemony felt that cultural homogeneity made for more efficiency. And today, at least, the fact that she was one of their own being honored in the presence of Kharemoughis seemed to outweigh the fact that she was only a female. She bowed with dignity, acknowledging their tribute, and took a seat in the mismatched chair at the near end of the tabl

“As I’m sure you all have heard by now,” the Chief Justice stood at his own place, “Commander PalaThion uncovered, and at virtually the last moment thwarted, an attempt by Tiamat’s Snow Quee to retain her power…”

Jerusha listened covetously to the report, savoring every flattering adjective like the scent of rare herbs. Gods, I could get used to this. Even though Hovanesse was a Kharemoughi himself, he was aware that as Chief Justice he reflected her glory today, and he was laying it on thick. He sipped frequently from a translucent cup; she wondered whether it was really water, or something to numb the pain of paying her compliments. “…Even though, as most of us here are aware, there was a certain amount of — controversy about appointin a woman Commander of Police, I think she has proved that she is capable of rising to a challenge. I doubt if our original choice for the post, Chief Inspector Mantagnes, could have handled the situation any better if their positions had been reversed.”

That’s for damn sure. Jerusha glanced down in false modesty, hiding the glass fragments in her smile. “I was just doing my job, your honor; as I’ve tried to do it all along.” With no help from you, I could add. She bit her tongue.

“Nevertheless, Commander,” one of the Assembly members stood up expansively, “you’ll finish your service here with a commendation on your record. You’re a credit to your world and your gender.” One or two Newhavenese coughed at that. “It just goes to show that no one world, or race, or sex, has a complete monopoly on intelligence; all can and shall contribute to the greater good of the Hegemony, if not equally, at least according to their individual abilities…”

“Who writes the graffiti inside his braincase?” the Director of Public Health muttered sourly.

“I don’t know,” behind her hand, “but he’s living proof that living for centuries doesn’t have to teach you anything.” She saw his mouth twitch and his eyes roll in a fleeting moment of comradely aggravation.

“Would you care to say a few words, Commander?”

Jerusha flinched, until she realized the assemblyman hadn’t even been aware of anyone speaking besides himself. Don’t let me choke, gods. “Uh, thank you, sir. I didn’t really come here planning to make a speech, and I really don’t have the time.” But wait a minute — “But since I’ve got you all here listening to me, maybe there is a matter important enough to spend our time on.” She stood up, leaning forward on the slightly uneven tabletop. “A few weeks ago I had a very disturbing question put to me: a question about the mers — the Tiamatan creatures we get the water of life from,” for the benefit of any assemblyman who was or pretended to be ignorant of it. “I was told that the Old Empire created the mers to be creatures with human-level intelligence. The man who told me this had the information directly from a sibyl Transfer.”

She watched their reactions spread like ripple rings colliding on a water surface; tried to guess whether it was genuine — whether the Assembly knew, whether the civil officials did, whether she was the only human being in this room who had been blind to the truth… But if any of them were faking their amazement, they were good at it. The murmurs of protest rose along the table.

“Are you trying to tell us,” Hovanesse said, “that someone claims we’ve been exterminating an intelligent race?”

She nodded, her eyes downcast as she spoke, treading lightly. “Not knowingly, of course.” In her mind she saw the bodies on the beach: but kit ting them just the same. “I’m sure no one in this room, no member of the Hegemonic Assembly, would let anything like that go on.” She glanced deliberately at the oldest Wearer of the Badge among them, a man in his sixties who just might be left over from long enough ago. “But someone knew once, because we know about the water of Life.” If he did know, he wasn’t letting her see it on his face; she wondered suddenly why she wanted to.

“So you are suggesting,” one of the other Kharemoughis demanded, “that our ancestors consciously buried the truth, in order to get the water of life for themselves?”

She heard the extra grimness that weighed down ancestors, and realized that she had made a misstep. Criticizing a Kharemoughi’s ancestors was like accusing one of her own people of incest.

But she nodded, firmly, stubbornly, “Someone’s did, yes, sir.”

Hovanesse took a sip from his glass, said heavily, “Those are exceptionally ugly and unpleasant charges to bring up at a time like this, Commander PalaThion.”

She nodded again. “I know, Your Honor. But I can’t think of a more appropriate audience for them. If this is true—”

“Who made the accusation? What’s his proof?”

“An off worlder named Ngenet; he has a land-grant plantation here on Tiamat.”

“Ngenet?” The Director of Communications touched his ear in derision. “That renegade? He’d claim anything to make the Hegemony look bad. Everyone in the government knows that. The only attention he deserves from you, Commander, is a jail cell.”

Jerusha smiled briefly. “I once considered it. But he claims this information was given to him by a sibyl; it would be easy enough to I corroborate by asking another one.”

“I wouldn’t degrade the honor of my ancestors by such an insulting act!” one of the assemblymen murmured.

“It seems to me,” Jerusha leaned forward again, “that the future of this world’s people, human and nonhuman, ought to be a lot more important than the reputation of Kharemoughis who were dust a millennium ago. If a wrong’s being done, let’s admit it and correct it. If we wink at mass murder here we’re as bad as the Snow Queen herself. Worse — splattered with the blood of innocent beings by the slaves and lackeys who only obey our demands, while we punish them for our guilt by keeping them in the Fke Age!” Stunned by the words she heard come out of her own mouth, she remembered abruptly who had put them into her mind.

The silence of the grave met her on every side, and bore her back down into her seat. She sat still, very aware of her own breathing, and of then — goodwill draining away, emptying out of this husk of a room. “Sorry, gentlemen. I guess I — spoke out of turn. I know this is a hard accusation to face; that’s why I’ve had so damn much trouble knowing what to do about it myself, whether to file a report—”

“Don’t file a report,” Hovanesse said.

She looked up at him, questioning; back along the table’s length at the brittle anger of the Kharemoughis, and the resentful anger of the Newhavenese. You damn fool! What made you think they’d want to look Truth straight in the face, any more than you did?

“The Assembly will take up the matter after we leave Tiamat. When we’ve made our decision, the Hegemonic Coordinating Center on Kharemough will be notified of any policy change that needs to be made.”

“You will question a sibyl, at least.” She twisted her watchband below the table’s edge, longing for a handful of iestas.

“We have one among us, on the ships,” not entirely answering the question.

I pity the poor bleeder, with a clientele like that. She wondered in her heart whether this one question worth asking would ever be asked again.

“In any case,” Hovanesse frowned at her silence, “whatever is decided won’t have to concern you, Jerusha; you’ll spend the rest of your career, and your life, light-years away from Tiamat. Just like we all will. We appreciate your concern, your honesty in speaking your mind. But the question and Tiamat become purely academic for us from here on.”

“I suppose so, Your Honor.” And even the rain doesn’t fall if it doesn’t fall on you. She got to her feet again and saluted them all stiffly. “Thank you for your time, and for asking me here. But I’ve got to be getting back to my duties before they become academic, too.” She turned without waiting for a sign of dismissal and went quickly out of the room.

She had gotten as far as the hallway before Hovanesse’s voice called her to a stop. She turned back, half hot and half cold, saw t him coming after her alone. She couldn’t quite read his face.

“You didn’t give the Assembly the opportunity to give you your new assignments, Commander.” His eyes castigated her for her tactlessness and ingratitude before the Assembly members; but he said nothing more.

“Oh.” She took the printout automatically from his hand, with fingers that felt nothing. Oh, gods, what’s my fortune to be?

“Aren’t you going to look at it?” It was not a casual inquiry, or a friendly one, and she felt the numbness spread.

She almost refused, but some perverse part of her would not ignore the challenge. “Of course.” She unsealed the flimsy paper and let it fall open, her eyes striking the page randomly. The Tiamatan force was being split up, as she had expected, reassigned to several different worlds. Mantagnes had been given another chief inspectorship. And she… she… her eyes found her own name at last and she read… “There’s been a mistake.” She felt the perfect calm of perfect disbelief. She read it again: a sector command, almost the equal of her position here. But at Paradise Station, Syllagong, on Big Blue. “There’s nothing there but a cinder desert.”

“And the penal colony. Extensive mineral mining goes on there, Commander. It’s of considerable importance to the Hegemony. There are plans for starting an additional colony; that’s why they’re expanding the force there.”

“Damn it, I’m a police officer. I don’t want to run a prison camp.” The paper sighed as her hands tightened. “Why am I being given this? Is it what I just said in there? It isn’t my fault if the—”

“This was your original assignment, Commander. But because of your accomplishments, your rank has been raised to a sector command.”

He said the words deliberately, oozing the smugness of a man who lived by influence and prior knowledge. “Rehabilitating offenders is just as important as apprehending them, after all. Someone has to do it, and you’ve proven you can handle a — difficult position.”

“A dead-end position!” To argue was only to humiliate herself further, but she fought a losing battle with her temper. “I’m the Commander of Police for this entire planet. I’ve just been given a commendation. I don’t have to stand by and let my career die!”

“Of course you don’t,” he patronized. “You can take it up with the Assembly members — although you probably won’t earn much sympathy after the disgusting and outrageous charges you just made in there.” His dark eyes grew darker. “Let’s be blunt about this, shall we, Commander? You and I both know you owe your place at the top to the Queen’s interference. The only reason you were made an inspector in the first place was merely to humor her. This new position is more than you deserve. You know as well as I do that the men under your command here never accepted taking orders from a woman.” But that was Arienrhod’s doing! And it’s changing now, changed already — “Morale was terrible, as Chief Inspector Mantagnes frequently reported to me. You are neither needed nor wanted on the force. Whether you take this assignment or resign is up to you, but it’s all the same to us.” He locked his hands behind his back and stood before her, as immovable as a wall. She remembered the glowing platitudes he had mouthed about her so short a time ago.

You set me up for this, you bastard. I saw it coming. I knew it was coming, but after yesterday I thought — I thought — “I’ll fight this, Hovanesse.” Her voice trembled with rage, half the rage turning back on herself for letting it happen. “The Queen couldn’t ruin me, and neither will you.” But she has, Jerusha; she has… She turned and walked away from him again, and this time he did not call her back.

Jerusha left the Court Building and started back down the uncongested Blue Alley toward police headquarters. (Even in Festival time, the carousers avoided this piece of the city.) Her first and only thought was to go to her men, tell them her problem, see if she could get their support. It was true, then — feeling toward her was changing, because of yesterday; she had seen it in almost every face. But had it changed enough? If she had the time now, she might be given a fair chance to prove that she could hold their respect as well as any man. But she didn’t have that much time. Did she even have time to try to get them behind her now? And even if she did… was it worth it?

She found herself standing alone in the alley before the station house: that ancient, hideous fossil which had grown so familiar. No other building, no other post would ever be quite so hated — or, she suddenly realized, quite so important — in her life. But wherever she went, if she went in the uniform she wore now, she would always be an outsider, would always have to be fighting not simply to do a good job, but to prove that she even had the right to try. And there would always be another Hovanesse, another Mantagnes, who would never accept her, and try to drive her away. Gods, did she really want to spend the rest of her life that way? No… not if she could find something else to do with it that meant as much to her as this job, something she believed in as much. But there was nothing else . nothing. Beyond this job she had no life, no goal, no future. She went on past the station house, on to the alley’s end, and out into the river of celebration.