Not to go to Eleuthera would mean choosing to miss the end of the story that had shaped her life, and that gave her an unsettled feeling. She wanted to be present at the end, however tragic that end might be.
Secretly, she cherished a glimmer of hope that sixty years would have changed the minds of the Manhu. Once they saw the artwork they would want to save it.
And so one day she closed her eyes on Sarona and opened them on Eleuthera. She had expected someone from Eleuthera University to meet her at the waystation, but instead, the small group waiting for her was led by Traversed Bridge. She recognized him instantly. He had aged well. He still wore his hair long, though now it was streaked with gray, and his eyes were feathered with wrinkles. The biggest change was that he now looked confident and happy.
“This is Softly Bent, the woman who chose me,” he said, “and our eldest daughter, Hanging Breath.”
The two women were dressed in embroidered jackets, with their hair neatly coiled in buns on top of their heads. They both had a determined look that made Traversed Bridge seem positively easygoing by comparison.
They collected Rue’s baggage and Traversed led the way to a rented electric ground car. He drove, with Rue in the seat beside him. The city around them was a hive of activity. Everything seemed shiny, new, and under construction.
“I’ll take you to your hotel so you can rest up,” he said.
“Thank you. I’m too old for this interstellar travel nonsense.”
“Tomorrow, we will go to the university to open the shipping capsule.”
“It has arrived?”
“A couple weeks ago. They have had it in storage, acclimating.”
“Good. I am glad they are treating her well.”
He glanced at her sideways. “People are quite curious about why you are here. There are some who think you have come to snatch her back. If they are guarded with you, that is why.”
“They can rest easy,” Rue said. “The decision can’t be unmade, unless the Manhu change their minds.”
“That is what I told them.”
They drove on a while in thoughtful silence.
“Did you ever build your dam?” Rue asked.
He smiled. “Yes. You will see it, if you come to our village.”
“Of course I will come to your village. I’m not going to travel all this way and not visit the Manhu.”
He nodded, but glanced at her again. “They made a song about me,” he said.
“About your role in the trial, you mean?”
“About my journey, the trial, everything. And they gave me a new name when I got back. It is a great honor. I am now called No.”
“Why No?”
“Because when people kept trying to get me to do this and that, and accept less than we wanted, I kept saying no.”
“Hmm,” she said. “That would be fine, except that the right answer is almost never ‘no.’ The right answer is ‘maybe.’”
“I will tell them you said that,” he said, amused. “You are in the song, you know.”
“I can imagine. Probably the wicked woman guarding her treasures like a dragon.”
“No, in our songs, dragons are lucky.”
She decided she liked Traversed Bridge. Of course, she had never disliked him. She had always thought his convictions were misguided, but sincere and deeply held. But then, so were hers.
The next morning it was an ethnologist from the university, Magister Garrioch, who picked her up. He was a young man with a curly blond beard and a worried expression. Leading her to the car, he told her how he had done his dissertation on the Manhu, and had profound respect for them—“But this Immolation idea that No picked up on Sarona is just plain crazy.” As she settled into the car, he paused before shutting the door. “Can’t you persuade them not to go through with it?”
She gave a wry laugh. “I tried that once. It didn’t end well. Anyway, what makes you think I would have any leverage?”
“No is key to this,” he said. “He is deeply respected, and he respects you.”
“If that is true,” Rue said, “he started respecting me as soon as I stopped trying to persuade him of things.”
Looking frustrated, Garrioch went around to the driver’s seat and started the car. After several blocks Rue said, “I take it there is nothing you can do to prevent the Immolation?”
He shook his head. “Whenever I try to argue, No points out that the Manhu were promised freedom when they came to Eleuthera. He gets really legalistic about it.”
“I’m afraid we taught him that,” Rue said.
“Unfortunately, his argument goes right to the core of our values here. We really believe in freedom.”
“Even freedom to do stupid and self-destructive things?”
“Even that—as No keeps pointing out. Infuriating old man.”
“He was an infuriating young man, too.”
Since Eleuthera had no proper museum facilities, the university was storing the shipping capsule in the basement of their humanities building. When Rue and Garrioch arrived, they found Traversed Bridge waiting along with a delegation of seven Manhu. They looked out of place in the youthful bustle of the glass and brick lobby. All but two of them were elderly women dressed in drab gray. Traversed Bridge introduced Rue to one who seemed to be their leader. “Magister Savenga, this is the Kin Mother of the Whispering Kindom, Vigilant Aspire. She is my aunt.”
Respectfully, Rue said, “I am pleased to meet you.”
Vigilant was a tiny, aged woman, but her eyes were quick and watchful. She regarded Rue with polite suspicion.
Magister Garrioch led them all downstairs into a room off the loading dock, where the shipping capsule waited, still sealed after its long journey. A conservator and two students stood waiting in white lab coats. There was an air of hushed anticipation.
“Vigilant Aspire, would you care to break the seal?” Garrioch said.
She stepped forward and undid the latch. As Garrioch and Traversed Bridge raised the lid, a sigh of old nitrogen escaped. Inside, the artifacts rested in their cushioned cradles. The room was silent as the conservator and her helpers lifted the pieces one by one onto a waiting table: first the drum, then the carved baby, the eggshell, and the knife.
There was a moment of consternation when that appeared to be all. Rue said, “The portrait is underneath.”
The students lifted the tray that partitioned the capsule, and the artwork was revealed. They tilted it vertical so everyone could see.
There were gasps. Aldry looked exactly the same as in Rue’s memories from sixty years ago. She shone, radiant, even in the industrial lighting of the workroom, with her wings revealed. She had never looked so beautiful. Rue felt a painful exaltation at the sight. It had been years since anything had made her feel like this.
Vigilant Aspire’s cheeks were wet with tears. She looked reverent, moved to the bottom of her soul. Rue looked at Traversed Bridge. He also was staring at Aldry, a hint of sadness in his gaze.
The Kin Mother moved forward and raised a hand as if to touch the artwork. Rue suppressed an automatic urge to give a warning about the delicacy of the surface. It was no longer her responsibility—or her right. The Manhu owned the artwork now.
Vigilant brought her lips close to the painting and whispered something to the girl with the wings. Then she stepped back, overcome. Another old woman put an arm around her shoulders.
The Manhu spent a long time examining the artifacts and the artwork. The room seemed to fill with their emotion, tangible as smoke. Traversed Bridge hung back in order to let the others see everything, and Rue took a seat beside him. “What did she say to Aldry?” she whispered to him.