Other setbacks, yes, ma'am, I'm getting to them. Uhh, it seems the, uhh, construction teams have all evacuated.
Gone home, ma'am. All of them.
Our guess is the prince told them something. Although maybe they just left on their own because of all the accidents. The accidents. Four since the original one that killed the prince's workers. Apparently there have been quakes on Heaven's surface which ruptured a number of domes…oh no, there's no suggestion of sabotage. It says here Laughing Dragon security personnel investigated each incident with all the…of course, there was insurance. We insist on insurance. We're a bank.
Our own investigators, ma'am? Well, perhaps you don't, uhh, understand the level of security Mrs., uhh, Mr. Naruki has imposed on Heaven. No photographs, no close approach from space, no unauthorized visits from…good Lord, no, she wasn't trying to hide anything from us. How could she hide something from us? We audit her books every six months.
The security was because Mrs. Naruki was worried about terrorists. Terrorists, ma'am. Well, no, an amusement park one hundred and six million kilometers from Earth is not an obvious political target, but caution is always—
Oh, now, Miss Verhooven, uhh, Ms…. we've made a substantial number of investigations, yes, a substantial number, let me…oh…no…this is the, uhh…we call it the, uhh, nut file. From earlier inquiries. You recall Laughing Dragon categorically refused to discuss how the body of Heaven was constructed? Well, we did some digging to find out…asked around on all the planets, did anyone see something huge and strange in space…well, we got some wild stories, ma'am, you'd be amused. No, there's nothing of interest here, I personally checked each and every…yes, ma'am. Yes, ma'am. I'll leave the file with you.
About the Narukis, ma'am…if they're, uhh, gone, there could be serious…well, I was talking to Legal, and they say if Laughing Dragon were to default on the loan, Heaven would, uhh…become ours.
The bank's.
Presumably we'd sell it to someone, ma'am.
There must be…uhh…I mean, it's a nice big, uhh…I should think there'd be a buyer somewhere, ma'am. All those energy cells, the scrap value alone…no, I don't think we've calculated the cost of reclamation. No, ma'am, I wouldn't be qualified to venture an opinion in that area. Not at present. I'll make that another Action Item, shall I?
Maybe we'll just work up a full report on this, yes? I mean, Heaven's a great big…it's very big. There's always someone who'll buy something that's big. In my experience. Any time the bank has repossessed something before, we've never had any trouble selling it off…not when it was something, uhh, big.
No, ma'am. We didn't think ahead. We're sorry.
VARIATION M: TOTEM
(TRANQUILLO CON SPIRITO)
(SERENELY, WITH SPIRIT)
CONTACT: JANUARY 2079
The smoke rises to heaven.
The sound of the rattle rises to heaven.
Let my song rise to heaven,
For I have dreamed a true dream.
Come here, Celeste.
You're wondering what your animal will be, right?
When I was a boy your age, I wanted the shaman to tell me I'd been chosen by the eagles. I dreamt of flying with them…or a bear, that seemed like a good animal too. I'd seen a bear once in a zoo—it seemed wise and kindly. Now that I know more about bears, I realize I overlooked important aspects of the bear personality. Its claws, for example.
But no, your animal will not be the bear. Or the eagle. Or the wolf or the whale or any of those totems young people usually hope for.
I know. You're disappointed. I was disappointed when the shaman told me my bed would lie in the rabbit lodge. I wanted to be…oh, something more heroic. I thought rabbits were timid and foolish. But really, when a rabbit runs from a fox, it isn't being foolish, is it? It's just being sensible. And a rabbit has the heart of a wolverine at times—when being brave is the least foolish alternative. A rabbit is always watching, always listening, always sniffing the air. That's a good way for a shaman to live.
But no, you won't be a rabbit either.
The spirits have built a new lodge. They've sensed a new creature. Not human, not an animal they've known in the past. It comes from far away. This animal is your totem.
I don't know its name. You're the first of its clan. It has no name in any human tongue. You can ask for its secret name when you meet it.
To meet it, you'll have to journey off-planet. At present, the creature is several million kilometers inside the orbit of Mercury, and—
No, I'm not crazy. Or lying. The animals spoke. I dreamed a true dream.
Are you saying the truth is only true when you can understand it?
You're wrong.
When I went to university many decades ago, I enrolled in mathematics because I wanted to tell truth from falsehood. I believed mathematics was the one pure source of truth because it was the only discipline entirely divorced from subjectivity. But that was before I began studying. At school, I learned all mathematics starts with "Let's pretend this is true and see where it leads." That is mathematics' great joy and strength: it dares to stand on nothingness. It dares to see it's standing on nothingness, yet it's still brave. Can you tell me its magic isn't strong?
You want to argue with me, I see that. Don't you want to be a shaman, Celeste? Don't you want to have magic in your heart? Well, I'll tell you a secret about magic: it refuses to be what you want it to be. Demand something of magic and it will choose to be something else.
One quiet wintry Sunday while I was at the university, I woke at dawn and went for a walk. I suppose you'd like me to give some mystic explanation for walking at that hour, but the truth is, my roommate was snoring so loudly I couldn't sleep, so I got angry and left. I walked nowhere in particular, and because I was angry, I paid little attention to the world around me: the cardinals whistling in the trees, the squirrels running across the snow. I was in no magical mood, I assure you.
But. As I passed one of the university parking lots, I saw a spirit.
It was the Thunderbird, I think: a man's body with the head of a bird of prey. It was at the far end of the lot, walking away from me toward the science complex; I could only see its back, a long distance off.
I stood frozen for two full minutes until the spirit disappeared behind the Chemistry building.
Now, girl, was that magic?
The spirit was a long way off and in the shadow of some buildings. It could have been nothing more than someone wearing an odd hat. I tried to convince myself I was imagining things, because the incident didn't fit with how I thought the world should work. Why would a great spirit be walking across a parking lot? A parking lot! Not a field, not a forest, a parking lot. And if a spirit chose to show itself to me, why didn't it talk or do something miraculous? Why would it just walk away and disappear?
Was that magic? Or was it only my imagination?
Since then I've met the Thunderbird several times in my dreams of the Other World, but it's always refused to say whether it really showed itself to me that day.
That's the way of true magic, Celeste. It's slippery. It's always open to question. My dreams of the Other World, well, maybe they're just dreams, right? There's always a logical explanation somewhere if you want it.
And there's always magic if you want it. Everywhere. In the forest, in the city, in a lodge, in a factory.
In space, several million kilometers inside the orbit of Mercury.
That's the magic you've been offered, Celeste. You don't get a choice what your magic will be; your choice is whether you will let it be magic.
Will you?
Yes, we can get you there. A woman named Verhooven is bringing people to see the new creature. She's become curious about it; she's gathering those with knowledge of its travels. It won't be hard for you to join this group. You belong to the creature's clan—you have to speak for it. The spirits will make sure you get where you belong.