"Not Drotik, you idiot," Meb answered. "Drotik's exactly what I always thought he was except that now I've lost my job and I'll never get another one, Drotik will spread the word on me that I walked out on a show three hours before lights."
"Then who are you mad at?"
"Father! Who do you think? A vision-I can't believe it, I thought Drotik would tell me that it wasn't Father he was darting, it was somebody else, and what ever gave me the idea it was Wetchik, what kind of cheese-brained fool would come up with the idea that the honorable Wetchik was off getting visions from the amazing unbelievable Oversoul.
"Mother believes him," said Nafai.
"Mother has renewed his contract every year since the year you were conceived, obviously she's got a lot of judgment where he's concerned! Do you believe him? Does anybody who hasn't slept with him?"
"I don't know. I don't even know who knows about it."
"Let me tell you something. Six hours from now the entire city of Basilica will know about it, that's who knows about it. I want to kill him, the flatulent old pincushion!"
"Calm down, you don't mean that-"
"Don't I? Do you think I wouldn't love to push this fist right through his face?" Meb turned around and screamed his next sentence at the passersby on the street. I'll show you some visions, you pebble-headed weed-hauler!"
People were stopped on the street, staring.
"Right," said Nafai, "Father's embarrassing you"
"I didn't ask you to follow me. You're the one who chased after me, so if you don't like being with me you can choke to death on your own snot, that's perfectly all right."
"Let's go home," said Nafai, mostly because he couldn't think of anything else to say.
FIVE - WHEELS
Home certainly wasn't where Nafai wanted to be, not tonight. He had been hoping Father would be somewhere else, so Meb would have a chance to calm down before they talked. But no, of course not, Father wanted to talk to Meb. He had already spent an hour talking with Elemak-Nafai wasn't too broken up about missing that scene-and now he seemed to have the fantasy that he might possibly persuade Meb to believe in his vision.
The yelling started as soon as Mebbekew located Father in the study. Nafai had seen what these arguments were like, and so he quickly retreated to his room. On his way through the courtyard, he caught a glimpse of Issib peering out of his doorway. Another refugee, thought Nafai.
For the first hour or so, all that could be heard was the low murmur of Father's voice, presumably trying to explain about his vision, interrupted every few minutes by Mebbekew's clear, piercing shout making comments that ranged from accusation to derision. Then it finally came out, amid all of Mebbekew's complaints about how Father was humiliating the family, that Meb had been doing a fair job of bringing the family into disrepute by working as a masker. Then it was Father's turn to shout and Mebbekew's to try to explain, which was good for another hour of quarreling before Meb left the house in a rage and Father went out to the stables to tend to the animals until he calmed down.
Only then did Nafai venture to the kitchen, absolutely starving by now, for his first serious meal of the day. To his surprise, Elemak was there, sitting with Issib at the table.
"Elya, I didn't know you were here," said Nafai.
Elemak looked up at him, blankly, and then remembered. "Forget it," he said. "J was angry this morning but it's nothing, forget it."
Nafai had forgotten, with all that had happened since, that Elemak had warned him not to come home. "I guess I already did," he said.
Elemak gave him a disgusted look and then went back to his food.
"What did I say?"
"Never mind," said Issib. "We're trying to think what we should do."
Nafai headed for the freezer and started scanning the food that Truzhnisha had stocked there for occasions like this. He was dying of hunger and yet nothing looked good. "Is this all that's left?"
"No, I have the rest hidden in my pants," said Issib.
Nafai picked something that he remembered liking before, even though it didn't sound particularly good tonight. While it was heating he turned around and faced the others. "So, what have we decided?"
Elemak didn't look up.
"‘We haven't decided anything," said Issib.
"Oh, what, am I suddenly the only child in the house, while the men are making all the decisions?"
"Pretty much, yes," said Issib.
"And what decisions do you have to make? Who has any decisions to make at a //, besides Father? It's his house, his business, his money, and his name that's getting laughed at all through Basilica."
Elemak shook his head. "Not all through Basilica."
"You mean somebody hasn't heard about this yet?"
"I mean," said Elemak, "that not everybody is laughing."
"They will if that satire runs long. I saw a rehearsal. Meb was really pretty good. Of course he quit since it was about Father, but I think he really has talent. Did you know he sings?"
Elemak looked at him with contempt. "Are you really this shallow, Nyef?"
"Yes," said Nafai. "I'm so shallow that I actually think our embarrassment isn't all that important, if Father really saw a vision."
"We know Father saw it," said Elemak. "The problem is what he's doing about it."
"What, he gets a vision from the Oversold- warning about the destruction of the world, and he should keep it a secret?"
"Just eat your food," said Elemak.
"He's going around telling people that the Oversold wants us to go back to the old laws," said Issib.
"Which ones?"
"All of them."
"I mean which ones aren't we already following?"
Elemak apparently decided to go straight to the heart of things. "He went to the clan council and spoke against our decision to cooperate with Potokgavan in their war with the Wetheads."
"Who?"
"The Gorayni. The Wetheads."
They had got the nickname because of their habit of wearing their hair long, in ringlets, dripping with a perfumed oil. They were also known as vicious warriors with a habit of slaughtering prisoners who hadn't proved their valor by sustaining a serious wound before surrendering. "But they're hundreds of kilometers north of here," said Nafai, "and the Potoku are way to the southeast, and what do they have to fight about?"
"What do they teach you in your little school?" said Elemak. "The Potoku have extended their protection over all the coastal plain up to the Mochai River."
"Sure, right. Protection from what?"
"From the Gorayni, Nafai. We're between them. It's called geography."
"I know geography," said Nafai. "I just don't see why there should ever be a war between the Gorayni and the Potoku, and if there was, how they'd go about fighting it. I mean, Potokgavan has a fleet-all their homes are boats, for heaven's sake-but since Goraynivat has no seacoast-"
" Hadno seacoast. They've conquered Usluvat."
"I guess I knew that."
"Oh, I'm sure you did," said Elemak. "They have horsewagons. Have you heard of those?"
"Wheels," said Nafai. "Horses pulling men in boxes into battle."
"And carrying supplies to feed an army on a long march. A very long march. Horsewagons are changing everything." Suddenly Elemak sounded enthusiastic. It had been a lot of years since Nafai had seen Elya excited about anything. "I can envision a day when we'll widen the Ridge Road and the Plains Road and Market Street so that the farmers can haul their produce up here in horsewagons. The same number of horses can haul ten times as much. One man, two horses, and a wagon can bring what it takes a dozen men and twenty horses to haul up here now. The price of food drops. The cost of transporting our products downhill drops even lower- there's money there. I can envision roads going hundreds of kilometers, right across the desert-fewer animals in our caravans, less feed to haul and no need to find as much water on the journey. The world is getting smaller, and Father's trying to block it."