But in the same instant, Jawn clearly realized something, as well. He pointed at his own chest and said, "Jawn." Then he pointed at himself a second time and said, "Toroca."
It was Toroca’s turn to be astonished, his own eyelids beating up and down. Jawn’s face had remained its usual yellow. He indicated for Toroca to repeat the same thing. Toroca pointed at his own chest and said, "Toroca," then pointed at his chest again and said, "Jawn." When he uttered the second name, he felt tingling as his muzzle blushed blue.
And so, Toroca realized, a significant fact had been communicated by this simple math lesson. The Others now knew that Quintaglios could not lie without their faces betraying them. And Toroca now knew that the Others could lie.
Jawn and Toroca stared at each other, both of them clearly astonished.
Garios and Novato were sharing a meal of water turtle; the beast had been killed when it had waddled up onto the beach. Casually holding the flipper he was gnawing on, Garios said, "I see you’ve dispatched a letter to Afsan."
Novato spit aside a hunk of bone, then: "Along with the usual missives to the Emperor, yes. It went out with a rider last night."
Garios seemed engrossed in the anatomy of the flipper. His tone was offhanded. "May I inquire about the letter’s contents?"
"Oh, just bringing him up-to-date on what’s been happening. You know: the cliff turning blue, and the blue pyramid erupting out of the ground."
"Did you, ah, perhaps ask him to come here?"
"Here to Fra’toolar? Goodness, no. That’s a long trip, and he’s got plenty of other things to do."
"Of course," said Garios, tearing some more flesh from the flipper. After a moment, he added, "Will you be going to the Capital soon?"
"I don’t know. I should report in person to Dybo at some point. We’ll need new equipment to investigate this pyramid. Of course, Delplas could go back to take care of that; she’s got a fine head for details. So, no, I have no immediate plans to return to the Capital. Why do you ask?"
"Just curious," said Garios, again examining the flipper as if he somehow expected there to be some meat on it that had evaded his earlier investigations. "Just curious."
"I call this the listing game," said Mokleb. "It works like this: I suggest a category of thing, and you list all the items that fit into that category."
"A memory test?" said Afsan. "There’s nothing wrong with my memory."
"No, I suspect there isn’t. But please indulge me. Could you, for instance, give the names of the original five hunters?"
"Sure. Lubal, Belbar, Katoon, Hoog, and, ah, Mekt."
"You hesitated before Mekt. Why?"
"I couldn’t remember if I’d said her yet."
"Of course. Of course. And can you name the five original mates?"
"Dargo, Varkev, Jostark, Takood, Detoon."
"There, you had no trouble with that list. What about the names of the seven principal branches of government?"
"Oh, easy. The judiciary. The church. Civil works. The exodus. Interprovincial trade. Portents and omens. Tithing."
"Very good. And the names of the eight provinces?"
"Not only will I give you the names, Mokleb, but I’ll give them to you in order from west to east: Jam’toolar, Fra’toolar, Arj’toolar, Chu’toolar, Mar’toolar, Edz’toolar, and Capital."
"You missed one," said Mokleb.
"Did I? Which one?"
"You tell me."
"Let’s see: Jam’toolar and Fra’toolar on the west coast. Then Arj’toolar. Chu’toolar to the north, with little Mar’toolar beneath it. Edz’toolar. And Capital."
"You missed it again."
Afsan sounded irritated. He held up his fingers as he named them off. "One: Jam’toolar. Two: Fra’toolar. Three: Capital. Four: Chu’toolar. Five: Mar’toolar. Six — did I say Arj’toolar yet? Arj’toolar. Seven: Edz’toolar. And eight, ah… number eight is…"
"Yes?"
"Isn’t that funny?" said Afsan. "For the life of me, I can’t remember number eight."
"Would you like a hint?"
"Um."
"Its provincial color is light blue."
Afsan shook his head. "Sorry. It’s right on the fork of my tongue, but…"
"Kev’toolar," said Mokleb.
"Kev’toolar!" cried Afsan. "Of course. How could I forget that?"
"Now, quickly, Afsan, tell me the words that pop into your mind when you think of Kev’toolar."
"Len-Lee. She’s the governor."
"No, don’t explain unless I ask you to. Just say whatever words pop into your head."
"Coastline." A pause. "Kevpel."
"Kevpel?"
"Yes, you know. The planet. Fourth planet from the sun."
"Kev’toolar and Kevpeclass="underline" they both start the same way."
"That’s right. It’s a coincidence, of course. The province is named after Kevo, one of the fifty original Packs. The ’kev’ in the planet’s name is just an old word for ’bright.’"
"And what does Kevpel make you think of?"
"Well, Novato, I guess. When we first met, she showed me her sketches of Kevpel. And phases, of course: you can see Kevpel’s phases clearly, even with a small far-seer. Oh, and rings: Kevpel has rings around it."
"There’s another ringed planet, isn’t there?"
Afsan nodded. "Bripel. But it’s not as easy to see through a far-seer. And it’s farther away from the sun than we are, so it doesn’t go through phases."
"Novato. Tell me about her."
"Well, she’s head of the exodus project now."
"But more than that, if I recall the stories I’ve heard correctly, she and you mated."
"Yes."
"Now phases. Tell me about phases."
"Well, they’re cycles."
"Cycles?"
"You know: periodic occurrences."
"And rings. What things are ring-shaped?"
"A guvdoc stone."
"Yes. Anything else?"
"Certain trading markers, no?"
"I suppose. Anything else?"
"No, well — eggs are laid in a circle with empty space at the center. A clutch of eggs looks like a ring."
Mokleb nodded. "You couldn’t remember the province of Kev’toolar, because your mind was blocking out the similarly named planet Kevpel, and Kevpel makes you think of Novato, cycles, and rings."
"Oh, be serious, Mokleb. Those are just random connections, surely."
"Cycles and rings. Rings of eggs. And Novato, whom you once mated with. Let me ask you a question, Afsan. Tell me: is Novato about to be an integral number of years old? That is, is she about to cycle into her receptive phase, and take a mate?"
Afsan’s jaw dropped. "Mokleb — !"
"Forgive me if I’m wrong."
"No, no, you’re absolutely right. She’ll be in heat anytime now."
"And again forgive me, but have you perhaps been wondering if you and she will couple again? If the two of you will produce another clutch of eggs?"
Afsan’s claws slipped out for a moment, but then slid back into their sheaths. "Yes, Mokleb, as much as I have no right to wonder about such things, the questions you ask have indeed been disturbing me. I mean, normally I’d have a good chance at it, having been the first person she coupled with. But, ah, I’m blind and far away from her, and, well, there is the matter of Garios."
"Garios?"
"Den-Garios. A fine fellow, really. Novato and I coupled prior to what would have been her normal first estrus; she mated with Garios about two kilodays later. So, yes, Mokleb, I have been wondering whether she and I will mate again. It’s not a proper thing to think about, I know, but…" He lifted his hands helplessly.