"When I realized that I was expected to marry you, I read everything you wrote. I was trying to discover what I could and could not tell you."
"And what did you decide?"
"That I'd better keep my secrets to myself. That's why I never spoke to you, and why I was so relieved that you didn't want me."
"And now you did tell me."
"Because I could see that it hurt you, the fact that I didn't want you. I hadn't planned on that. You didn't come across as someone who would ever want the love of a contemptible crawling worm like me."
Worse and worse. "Was I so obvious in my attitude?"
"Not at all," he said. "I deliberately cultivated my wormhood. I have worked hard to become the most unnoticeable, despicable, spineless being that anyone in this company will ever know."
And now, thinking of what happened to his two friends, she understood. "Camouflage," she said. "For you to remain single and not be suspected of what you are, you had to be sexless."
"Spineless."
"But Zdorab, we're not in Basilica now."
"We carry Basilica with us. Look at the men here. Look at Obring, for instance, and Meb—doomed by their particular lack of gifts to be at the bottom of any pecking order you can imagine. Both of them aggressive and yet cowardly—they long to be on top, but haven't the gumption to take on the big men and take them down. That's why they're doomed to follow men like Elemak and Volemak and even Nafai, though he's the youngest, because they can't take risks. Imagine the rage built up inside them. And then imagine what they'd do if they learned that I was the monstrous thing, the crime against nature, the unmanly man, the perfect image of what they fear that they are."
"Volemak wouldn't let them touch you."
"Volemak won't live forever," said Zdorab. "And I don't trust my secret to those who won't keep it."
"Are you that sure of me?" said Shedemei.
"I have put my life into your hands," said Zdorab. "But no, I'm not that sure of you. Like it or not, though, we've been forced together. So I've taken a calculated risk. To tell you, so that I have one person here that I don't have to lie to. One person who knows that what I seem to be is only a pretense."
"I'll make them stop treating you so—so unregardingly."
"No!" cried Zdorab. "No, you mustn't. Things will be better when we're married, for both of us—you were right about that. But you must let me remain invisible, as much as possible. I know best how to deal with what I am, believe me—you've never even imagined it, you said so yourself, so don't bull your way into my survival strategy and start trying to fix things because you'll end up killing me if you do. Do you understand that? You're brilliant, one of the finest minds of our time, but you know absolutely nothing about this situation, you are hopelessly ignorant, you will destroy anything you touch, so keep your hands off."
He spoke with unbelievable vehemence and power. She had not imagined him capable of talking this way. She loathed it—being put in her place so firmly. But when she thought about it, instead of reacting viscerally, she realized that he was right. That for now, at least, she really was ignorant and the best thing she could do was let him continue to handle things however he thought best.
"All right," she said. "I'll say nothing, I'll do nothing."
"Nobody expects you to be proud to be married to me," said Zdorab. "In fact, they'll all think of it as a noble sacrifice you're making. So you won't lose any status by being my wife. It'll make you sort of heroic to them."
She laughed bitterly. "Zdorab, that's how I thought of it myself."
"I know," he said. "But that's not how I thought of it. I even hoped—imagine, having the right to be alone in the same tent with the keenest scientific mind on the planet Harmony—every night—with nothing to do but talk!"
It was so sweetly flattering and yet, for reasons she couldn't quite grasp yet, it was also vaguely tragic.
"That's a marriage, after a fashion, don't you think? We won't have babies like the others, but we'll have thoughts. You can teach me, you can talk to me about your work and if I don't understand I can promise you that I'll educate myself through the Index until I do. And maybe I can tell you some of the things I've found."
"I'd love that."
"We can be friends, then," he said. "That'll make ours a better marriage than most of theirs. Can you imagine what Obring and Kokor talk about?"
She laughed. "Do you think they actually do?"
"And Mebbekew and Dol, both playacting and secretly loathing each other."
"No, I don't think Dol hates Mebbekew, I think she actually believes the part she's playing."
"You're probably right. But they're pretty awful, don't you think? And they're going to have children!"
"Terrifying."
They laughed, long and loud, till tears ran down both their faces.
The door parted. It was Nafai.
"I clapped," he said, "but you didn't hear me. Then I realized you were laughing and I thought I might come in."
Both of them immediately grew sober. "Of course," said Zdorab.
"We were just discussing our marriage," said Shedemei.
Shedemei could see the relief spread over Nafai's face as if the shadow of a cloud had just passed. "You're going ahead and doing it," he said.
"We were just stubborn enough to want to wait until it was our idea," said Zdorab.
"I believe it," said Nafai.
"In fact," said Zdorab, "we ought to go tell Rasa and Volemak, and besides, you wanted to use the Index."
"I did, but not if you're not done with it," said Nafai.
"It'll still be here," said Shedemei, "when we're ready for it again." And in moments they were outside the tent, heading for—where?
Zdorab took her by the hand and led her to the cookfire. "Dol was supposed to be watching here," he said, "but she usually runs off—she needs her little nap, you know. It doesn't matter—I let Yobar touch the cookpot once, and he must have spread the word about how it feels, because the boons don't come anywhere near here now, even when it smells as good as this."
It did smell good.
"How did you learn to cook?"
"My father was a cook," said Zdorab. "It was the family business. He was good enough that he was able to afford to send me to Basilica to study, and I learned a lot of what he knew. I think he'd be proud of what I've been able to do in these piss-poor conditions."
"Except the camel cheese."
"I think I've found an herb that will improve it," said Zdorab. He lifted the lid of the cookpot. "I'm trying it tonight—there's twice as much cheese in this as usual, but I don't think anybody will mind." He lifted the stirring spoon and she saw how cheesily the liquid strung and glopped off of it.
"Mmm," she said. "Can't wait."
He detected the irony in her voice. "Well, it's not as though you don't have ample reason to be suspicious of anything that looks like it might taste like the cheese, but I figure that we've all had years of loving cheese and only a couple of months of hating it, so I should be able to win you all back if I do it right. And we will need the cheese—it's too good a source of animal protein for all the nursing mothers we're going to have."
"You've got it all planned out," she said.
"I have plenty of time to myself, to think," he said.
"In a way," she said, "you're really the leader of this group."
"In a way," he said, "you'd best not say that in front of anyone else or they'll be sure you've lost your mind."