"I beg the forgiveness of all good men and women. All that I taught was a lie. The Keeper lives, and the Kept will show us all the way to happiness. If there is anyone here who approved of my words and works for the past few years, then I beg you, learn from my mistakes and change your heart."
Shedemei noticed with relief that there were no rhetorical flourishes. His speech was simple, direct, sincere. Still, she had no illusions. The vile sort of people to whom he had once been a hero would now simply see him as a traitor. Few of them would be won over. The hope, as always, lay in the next generation, to whom Akma's story would be fresh and powerful.
As for the Assembly of the Ancient Ways, it had already collapsed. Aronha had officially dissolved it before Akma even arose from his coma, and though a few diehard digger-haters had organized a new version of it, there was no popular support. All those who had supported the Ancient Ways because it seemed like the wave of the future had already begun to remember that they always preferred the Kept. Those who had kept the boycott against the diggers out of fear or fashion were already seeking out their old clients and hirelings among the earth people, hiring those who were willing to forgive and return to work, buying up the unsold stockpiles of tradesmen's work. No one was foolish enough to think that this represented a vast change of heart in the population as a whole-the Kept who were truly committed to serving the Keeper were no more numerous now than they were before Shedemei had appeared to Akma and the Motiaki on the road. But as long as the genial hypocrites were willing to go through the motions and mouth the words, there was hope that more of their children would take the Keeper's plan into their hearts. And in the meantime, even empty lip service to the idea that all three peoples of the Earth were children of the Keeper would be enough to provide for peace and freedom within the borders of Darakemba. It's a starting point, Shedemei thought. A beginning, and we can rise from here.
Outside the school, a new tumult arose, and Shedemei stepped with Edhadeya through the door to see what was happening. The crowd parted, and the four sons of Motiak arrived. They had all visited the school often in the past few days, and each had reconciled with Edhadeya-Shedemei could see how relieved they were to be back in the good graces of their sister, not to mention their father. All four of them climbed the steps and embraced first Voozhum, then Bego, then Akma, then Edhadeya. As a pageant of reconciliation it was working very nicely.
<So are you done with them? Are you coming back?>
Miss me? asked Shedemei.
<I finished programming the probe and sent it off a few minutes ago. I would have told you, but you seemed busy.>
Congratulations. You've accomplished all that your other iteration sent you here to do.
<Fve now become a supernumerary, like aged animals past the age of reproduction. Irrelevant to the future course of history.>
I doubt that, Shedemei said silently. I think we'll find ways to keep busy. Aren't you programmed to be curious?
<I must admit something to you, Shedemei, which I haven't mentioned because I thought it something of an anomaly in myself. I was disappointed by your discoveries about the Keeper of Earth. I even tried to prove them wrong. To prove that fluctuations in the magnetic field can't possibly have the effects that the Keeper seems to have. That there cannot possibly be a volitional element in the chaotic flow of magma in the mantle of the Earth.>
What an interesting and useless way to spend your time. What does it matter whether the Keeper actually uses magnetics or that was simply the closest I could come to understanding what she actually does?
<I know it. When I finally realized the futility of what I was doing, I then began to study myself to see what it was in my programming that had caused me to loop on the meaningless effort to deny your vision of the Keeper. >
What did you find?
<Nothing. Or rather, nothing that I can print out as demonstrable code to account for the effect. I can only express it in imprecise, metaphorical, anthropomorphic language.>
My favorite kind. Go ahead.
<I must have hoped, for all these years, that we would find that the Keeper of Earth was like me, inorganic, programmed; and if this had been the case, I might have hoped that with enhancement of my mechanical capacities I too could have the scope of influence that the Keeper has. Instead I remain completely other. A tool made to imitate the Keeper, but incapable of becoming the thing I imitate.>
So far, anyway, said Shedemei silently.
<No, this is a permanent difference. I am not sentient. I merely do such a splendid job of counterfeiting sentience that for a short time I fooled even myself. >
Not really. As long as I wear the cloak of the starmaster, you're a part of me, whatever else you are, and I'm a part of you. Even if I do as I'm tempted and take a husband here and squeeze another baby out of this old body, we'll be bound together for a long time to come. My life has enough meaning to share some of it with you, even if you are a supernumerary now.
<A very generous gesture, according to my moral evaluation algorithms. Thank you.>
Mon, laughing, was speaking to the crowd. Someone had asked a question. "Of course the three species are different," Mon said. "That's not a mistake. The Keeper looked at humans and said, How inadequate! They can't see in the dark! They only live on the surface of the earth! They can't fly! We need something else to make the world perfect. And so we were sent out of the room like bad children while the Keeper brought two more species to a point where they could take their place with humans as brothers and sisters. And the Keeper was right! We humans weren't complete! Why, I spent my whole childhood wishing I were an angel. And I could spend my whole life trying and never come close to the wisdom and kindness of this old woman. So yes, my friend, the differences between the three peoples of Earth are real and they're important-but they're the reason we must live together, and not at all a reason for us to live apart!"
A cheer arose from the crowd, long and loud. Shedemei turned to Edhadeya and the two of them laughed together. "Listen to him," Edhadeya said. "Now that he's saying things he really believes in, Mon may turn out to be the best teacher of all."
Shedemei felt a tug on her clothing. She turned around to find one of the youngest sky girls looking up at her. She bent down to hear.
"Shedemei, I know you're in a bad mood today, but I have to tell you, mNo just threw up and I can't find anybody but you."
Sighing, Shedemei left the great public spectacle and returned to the mundane duties of the school. This one-day nausea had been going around the school and Shedemei was not looking forward to the time when she inevitably caught it herself. In the meantime, there was vomit to clean up and a little sick girl to wash and put to bed until her parents could come for her. Menial, wearying work, and Shedemei was very good at it.
Orson Scott Card: Homecoming volume 5 - Earthborn
v 1.0 [18-dec-01] 4i Publications. OCR'd 300DPI, Finereader 5, layout, quick proof inW2k . The original hardcover was good quality so only a few OCR errors expected. Most common OCR errors have been corrected. If you proofread or change this document, please retain the existing version information. Also indicate what has been improved (proofreading, layout etc). Just reformatting and changing the version number doesn't mean that the actual text has been improved.
We're missing #3 in the Homecoming Saga, so the series will remain incomplete until someone scans it.