Erudite, that's me

So they went on murdering me anyway?  Oh no: that's why they're all hell-bent on murdering me. 

Soulless, witless and of course they cannot rhyme.  They have not made mongs intelligent, they have not made the illiterate literate, they have not made the ineducable eager to learn.  All they have achieved is desecration, destruction.  In their terms of course triumph.  Apes in paper-hats cackle in triumph that desecration, corruption, criminality, treason, bestiality have won, wordless mindless criminality and treason of animals have triumphed. There will be no further nonsense about intellectual or moral standards, no sirree, Doctor and Nurse are not to be bothered with such things, no further nonsense about democracy or literacy or medical ethics.  Especially cunthead apes doctors and nurses are not to be bothered with medical ethics.  Precedents have been set.  They are untouchable.  They can butcher, they can murder, they can corrupt, they can do whatever they like and politicians and security services hold their coats and make themselves doormats for their masters.  Happy are you, in government, MI5?   Filth-monkeys, all of you.  Christ, you make me puke.  It would have been fun to pick one at random, Porter would do, isolate the cunt on camera and ask him exactly why he thought it fine to ignore the physical abuse and crippling of a medically vulnerable woman, why he saw no need to uphold the governing-system of the country, what's the rationale here?  Bright guy, sure he has a hilarious answer. You, you, you, what the fuck's the matter with you that you do not uphold democracy?  You, freak, thug, animal, what the fuck's the matter with you that you watch a woman being crippled? You, the evil old criminal they called Chief Nurse, filthy fat old brute, what's the matter with you?  Not humans. Filthy dirty smelly animals.  To sate the bottomless malice of filthy dirty smelly animals you refuse to help me.  Filthy dirty smelly animals would be distressed thereby and they are not to be distressed, let alone sectioned or prosecuted for their numerous crimes. That evil criminal monster Naylor, interrogate the filthy cunt, ask it real questions not the ones it wants to answer.  Ask the dirty cunthead how he thought he had the right to abolish democracy, as enshrined in the Seven Principles of Public Life.

Well, I tried.  I tried to do something about the Moloch of intellectual and moral corruption rolling over the country devouring everything in its path.  Didn't look that bad at the start.  Didn't realize the rule of Moloch was the sole aim of the fucking corrupt traitor State, that it had been decided democracy was to be abolished and fascism was to be welcomed, didn't realize no-one would dream ofpaying any attention to a woman or even caring whether I live or die, didn't realize it was universally assumed now that women can and should be beaten if we do not keep our fucking marfs shut.  Didn't realize all the smooth smiling doctors were consummate vermin, the enemies of everything the University stands for.  But I shouldn't have done anything materially different.  Because I'd rather be in a wheelchair in the gutter than be a piece of sick diseased puke like the rest of you, a dirty squalid sly cowardly bestial mindless grovelling animal who abandons all fact, reason, morality to apes with clubs, who has no use for intellect, reason, morality, language and understands only brute force, a sick, sad pathetic perverted ape, a dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, squalid bag of infected shit jabbering lies and filth and garbage, a psychopath who thinks the world revolves around him and the puke in his sick monkey brain, thinks everyone has to defer to him because he's too pathetic and inadequate and cuntforbrained and ignorant and stupid to cope with people as equals and individuals running on separate tracks, not extensions of his sick dirty monkey self.  Christ, you are such filth, such absolute filth and sickness.  What was it, bacteria in a Petri dish, swarming bacilli, that sums up doctors and nurses, they swarm all over you and destroy you if you're a civilized educated human being, sick monkeys who think they're superior life-forms, may not be questioned.  Just answer Mr Benn's questions, cunt traitor vermin.

The House will forgive me for quoting myself, but in the course of my life I have developed five little democratic questions. If one meets a powerful person--Adolf Hitler, Joe Stalin or Bill Gates--ask them five questions: "What power have you got? Where did you get it from? In whose interests do you exercise it? To whom are you accountable? And how can we get rid of you?" If you cannot get rid of the people who govern you, you do not live in a democratic system.
https://publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm200001/cmhansrd/vo010322/debtext/10322-13.htm

Extract from The Anile Heir ©2006.
I, Ysabel Jehan Howard, hereby assert and give notice of my right under s.77 of the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this book.
 
Sarat jumped from the truck, swung down a rucksack and swung it over his shoulder, helped Maya down with a grace suited to a more formal occasion.  Thanks, guys, it’s been really great.  Good to meet you all.  He put his arm round Maya and walked slowly through the Press-fiends into the House.
“No, Sarat, no,” said Cho, choking with laughter.
He wore the PANTHER T, the black loons, black riding boots, a silver headband and mirror-shades.
They sat on the bottom stairs.  Sarat slowly removed the shades.
“I’m going to get such hell in college tomorrow.”
“Who do you think you are, Narulis or something!”
“I don’t think in Narulis’ time…”
“Fun this, isn’t it,” said Sarat.  “Actually I like people  seeing my eyes.  Unless I’m feeling really difficult.”
“Where’s the banana-skin?”
Sarat gave a quick hoot of laughter but others didn’t get it.
“I guess I need to explain, at least for people in the west.  The hip Cat is Zur’s most famous or notorious restaurant.  Named after a cartoon character taking the urine out of cool.  The Hip Cat has mirror shades.  But the Hip Cat is not wholly – successful.  The Hip Cat saunters straight onto a banana skin.  When a silver salver is placed before him and the lid removed there’s just a fish skeleton.  He cunningly conceals himself outside a mousehole and a friendly gull tells him, They’ve moved to Fidub.
 
Spetzi to Fana:  Eeeeeeek!   
 
“I’m sure they are bad for young eyes,” said Karula firmly.
“You don’t know that, Mom, you’re making it up.”
 
Otherwise good-looking young men muttered, it’s the bloody tan!  Ah, but he will perish early of skin cancer.  Others wondered about that.  I mean, if I went to Fidub for a fortnight and scorched myself but you must get used to it, your skin must.
 
Iconic, said Mitch, what is cool, hip, modern Kadun.  Not only that but he has a brain.  For some of course that was alas, he also has a tongue and a brain.  No dumbfuck crap about being a figurehead, then.
Icon, said Mitch.
“We have to bear in mind, Mitch, not everyone will wish to be represented by a hip cat.”
“Then they must be persuaded!”
“A young man who so utterly deflates himself is perhaps a little hard to resist.”
“No, no,” said Mitch.  “Deflating oneself is easy.  Dress up, dress down. Deflating oneself while continuing to look like damn’ Narulis is a one-off.”
 
“Ultimate cool,” pronounced Sorg, “is of course taking the piss out of cool.”
“Just ordered some mirror-shades,” said Vrin.  “Oft have I been tempted but the expression piss-artist occurred to me.  Now I have been raised to a higher level of understanding.”
“We shall duly serve you the scales and fins.”
 
“He’s winding up the entire world,” surmised Seani, correctly.  “Sarat, we have never doubted you are good-looking.”
“Or,” grunted Venzat, “that a most successful career on the stage would await you.”
Num grinned.
“When the music stops, does he have a chair?”
“Polarization,” said Seani.  Sarat would have beamed in approval. 
“WYSIWYG.” 
“Oh that certainly.  Sarat neat.”
“So 50% are shuddering with horror and the other 50 – “
“What’s in a number?” asked Seani.
“Doesn’t that just so depend.”
“Get him when he gets back to Zur.”
 
 “Could we at least reach our front door?” said Maya, loudly.
“Come on, Sarat, WTF?”
“WE’re going inside,” said Baz, “to put our stuff down and have a coffee and then we’ll come out again, all right?”
“Promise?”  Baz just looked at him.  “OK, OK…”
“Nice time with KAF, Sarat?”
“Wonderful.”
“Somewhere in the Constitution,” said Maya, “is the right to physically remove those who impede lawful progress.”
“Can you put those shades on again?  Just for me.”
 
“They’re saying you’re the world’s sexiest man, Sarat.”
“Bit of an exaggeration?”
“How do you feel about that, Maya?  Sarat the world’s pin-up.”
“Mine, all mine,” said Maya.
“Correction,” said Sarat.  “We’ll come out again if you have anything sensible to say.”
“Ciletij going ape, Sarat.”
“I said sensible.”
“Vera-jat, Times of Ciletij.  Come on, you have to admit it’s more than trees.”
“Talk to you in a min, OK.”
 
Sarat came out again and sat himself on the wall.
“What’s more than trees?”
“Oh come on, Sarat!”
“The Rape, man!”
“It didn’t happen.  Every reputable school of learning you can name says either it didn’t happen or it’s open, Schools in Harn, Collegium in M-P, Collegium here in Zur.  Like I said, some guys don’t like facts.”
“And the Academy in G-T is not reputable.  Don’t give me that shit!”
“The empire enslaved, tortured and murdered Ciletij.  You’re going to deny that?”
“Of course I’m not. At the end the empire was a crock of shit.”
“The empire was a crock of shit, period.”
“Bollocks.  The whole continent knows that’s bollocks.  What is the foundation for Dabida?  Imperial law.”
“As the guy said in Carlin, anyone who thinks Cho is a second Jaizal is playing loony-tunes, but Sarat, you have to understand a real sense of grievance.”
“Do I?  Isn’t that the problem?  There’s a lot of stuff that’s common knowledge, like infiltration of the Ciletij military and G-T refusing to do anytning about it.  Not my problem, but how do I tell the difference between a nice ordinary guy and Cult-backed propaganda against me and my family.  Because I am sure anything not going to understand Azt.  You clear out your rats and then we can all see the real picture.”
“I’ve never heard such bloody slime – what the hell do you mean, refuse to do anything about it.  Be saying we’re run by Azt next.”
“You mean you’re not!”  Pause for hysteria.  “You really want to read.  What I know, as in know, is that Dabida, Vasucula and Fidub have been on at you for years.  It’s been in the papers and yes, sorry to have contacts, but I’ve heard it from Vanya, at dinner, Airoch, at dinner, PANTHER, all the time.”
“Oh shit, Sarat!”
Maya said: Heard it from Tar, heard it from the H-W, heard it in the student bar.  You guys need to face facts.  The south is very fed up with you.”
“Worst of all,” said Sarat, “I’ve heard it from the whole of Camp Five.  FAF is very very fed up with you.  You’re using them to keep you safe so you can go on licking Azt’s arse.  Playing both ends against the middle.”
“I do not want to hear this!”
“I do,” said Num, loudly and distinctly.  “Straight down the line, Sarat, Camp Five?”
“Half of them were in Kadun – the obvious half! Flip flap fly, fought the Cult.  And FAF sit in a frozen waste so G-T can play palsy-walsy with Searc and get away it?  Azt’d be all over Ciletij if it weren’t for FAF.”
“Profiting from timber sales to Vaudos!”
“Comes into it,” said Sarat.
“OF course Fidub is biased in favour of Kadun.”
Maya said: “I think if you ask around you will find Zuri very very biased.  Not hard.  If it weren’t for Varna, for Prog, for Ban-vesit, for Divaldin, Carlin would have fallen.  Do you actually understand what that means?”
“Azt at the border, most of us are not quite that thick.”
 
Kailo: “Perhaps the words Airoch uses are too long.”
“You guys are hostile to our gallant allies in Ciletij.
“Yes.  Not of course so hostile that we shan’t save their miserable skins.”
 
Airoch: “I understand there is a Plain Speech Movement, a campaign for lucidity in public life, which of course I back fully.”
 
Air-Commander  (Ciletij Air Fleet).  I have often thought most politicians extremely stupid.  I have to confess Airoch-cha makes a welcome exception.
 
“We in the west must meet them.” Rewn
“That is undoubtedly the case,” said Mitch, “but I do not think our questions are any better F2F.  Are you prepared to step into the firing-line?  Are you prepared indeed to place Maya in the firing-line?”
“Have to talk to the parents,” said Carlutan.
Rewn nodded.
“I should go ape and I am not Alzani-Meta.”
“Can’t believe they haven’t discussed.”
 
Carlutan thought then announced he was happy to have a quick chat with the Press, perhaps at Volti’s.  The local Press choked slightly, Volti’s being the nearest place of refreshment to Siba Base and generally regarded as one up from a muddy natural spring contaminated by sheep droppings.  Log-distance lorry-drivers stopped there.  Carlutan sat sipping something brown and swirling from a plastic cup, surrounded by three of his pilots.  Indeed there are some very cool guys in Kadun.
“Air-Commander, I think we can guess to what we owe this invitation.”
“I doubt it.”
“Us two, we’re Ciletij,” said one of the pilots.  “Not saying there are millions of us, more like five, but that’s not really the point.  A lot of Ciletij generally do recognize who are the good guys here.”
“OK, I did not guess.  So you ran away to KAF!”
“Of course we were vetted by PANTHER.”
“I myself,” said the third pilot, “am a good citizen of Vasucula.”
The journos screwed up their brows.  Definitely were not aware.”
“By the way we like trees!  Seriously, a lot of the – divisions in Ciletij are geographical.  It’s the long border with Cult Kadun.  Up in the north  and to the west – two things.  We’ve always mixed with segani and senoki, it’s a load of garbage there’s ingrained hostility.  And we’re just normal citizens of a democracy, like Fidubi and Dabidans.”
“A few of them in KAF too,” noted Carlutan.   “I actually looked up the numbers.  There are 37 Dabidans, 85 Fidubi and 47 Ciletij.  And 93 Vasuculi.”
The Vasuculi allowed himself a small smirk.
“That is pretty wow, a substantial number of fliers, right.”
“They’re not all pilots.”
“Well, just a substantial number, then.  Are you able to tell us more about the situation in the Ciletij Air Fleet?”
“I can hear the screams of traitor! before I even start.  Everyone in Kadun knows the spiel and of course people feel vulnerable.  Not making excuses for anyone but – 20 nani from Azt isn’t a cosy place to be.”
“We have to accept we are a more conventional people than say Zuri.  Partly climate, I mean we wear more clothes because it’s damn’ cold.  But that just makes us like segani.  When people say – Sarat has said – we’re infiltrated, don’t think that’s really the right word, sounds as if we’re full of irturbi.  Corrupted is the word.  I’m going to make a lot of senior officers very angry but they’d be hard pressed to deny it’s true.  1, you have to understand there are many women in the Ciletij military.  2.  I was in the Air Fleet for my national service, so I saw a bit on the ground and I actually also worked with FAF.  I assure you they are not prissy.  There’s a line.  I don’t know, kind of no-one can define it but everyone knows where it is.  Like the so-called joke in Carlin.  Unfunny.  More porn.  The guys got coarser.  Women who complained and they did, loudly, were fobbed off.  Yeah, yeah, it was a joke.  One of the awful things was it was so obvious.  If a woman asked for a transfer.  Yes of course, delighted, where would you like to go, line of least resistance.  Nobody wanted it but nobody stopped it, either.   And the rest of us seethed, being bloody handed over to them on a plate.  We all think there were pay-offs of course, civ, military, anyone with sticky fingers.  It’s a really busy border with Vaudos.”
“That I find really interesting.”
“Thought you might,” said Carlutan.
“And of course there’s a lot of propaganda.  Some of it’s hard-on, fulsome praise of Azt, lot that’s slimier and more subtle.  What we say here is exaggerated – is propaganda.  Look at the benefits to Vaudos of stable government – “
As you say, we know this song!
“Something else I want to say.  We’re all taught about the Rape at school.  Can’t not be, whole history of Ciletij is tied up with the empire.  We’re not.  Well, I wasn’t anyway, taught to hate Kadun today.  It’s history.  Like most history, most people don’t bother much with it.  Except maybe when someone says empire.  I want to say – it’s a bit complicated.  Not that I agree with Sarat, but he’s coming from a genuine place.  Decent sensible people think it happened  and Sarat dismissing them really annoys me.  But I saw in the papers a total toad, my ex-CO to be exact, pretending to be a decent Ciletij officer, mouthing off.  People in Kadun can’t tell the difference.  People in the south can’t.”
“So Ciletij need to name and shame?  I would guess fear is an element, as of course it has been here in Kadun.”
“Yes.  Both bits.”
“The name of the gentleman in question?”
“I can think of other words.  G-T Gazette, don’t suppose you read it.  Air-Colonel Simbali-ran.”
“I think we can all look out for further pronouncements!”
“Bomb us.  Now.” Said Carlutan cheerfully.  “They would of course have no more hope than the vamps.”
“On a wider front, Air-Commander, that was a purely spectacular fail in Carlin.  They just made themselves look ridiculous.  Can you think of any reason for it?”
“It was a purely spectacular affront.  It is of course a hell of a flight but certainly Sarat and Maya are welcome at Siba.  It was – that about which they could not do nothing.”
“I have wondered.  Diplomatic channels, protest to Fidub and Dabida?  Useless of course, but – no more useless.”
“I thought – just my two cents.  If they started a political row, they’d have to keep saying who Sarat is.”
“That is surely an interesting point, reinforcing again and again - ?”
 
 
Cho rang Essa.
“I can hear you sighing from here.”
Mitch looked at Heela.
“More than welcome, of course.”
Sarat looked at a map.
How different can one airbase be from another?  Very.  Maya likened Burunda to a panther lounging on a tree after a successful kill; Siba she thought more of a ratter prowling the granaries.  It wasn’t that Siba was any less prosperous – it’s hunger, isn’t it, she said to Jaizi. Don’t know they’re alive in Carlin, said Jaiz.  These guys have had it rough.  They had their moments, said Maya.  Vaudosi?  Later she had a more complex perception.
“They want something from you,” she said to Sarat.
Baz grinned.
“Just be the adorable you.”
“Shoot your mouth off,” said Paw, “that’s all they ask.”
“There are some quite conservative guys here.”
“Doesn’t matter.  They know which side they’re on.”
“Slight mismatch,” said Jaizi.  “They think you bothered to come.  You think try keeping me away.”
After three days at Siba the heli landed on the flat bit behind the House, called the grounds for convenience, though more the back garden; the sides and front have no perimeter fence.  There is however a moat.  No drawbridge, the bridge is fixed, bridges for the moat encircles the House, which is approximately five rooms long by three deep; it is for the most part a bungalow or if you are feeling more forgiving a chalet.  However the side walls rear into towers reaching to the heavens: look-out posts. Althugh there is no first floor, there is in the wide entrance hall a grand staircase, which leads to a half-landing off which are doors to the gallery of the Great Hall.  The House has been described as ‘a most curious edifice’.  Mitch grins and says it is what realtors mean by ‘a character property’. 
And so the bonds were forged that were to shake the continent to its foundations, etc, etc.
Love at first sight?  It was.
“We meet at last!” said Sarat.
“Gee,” said Mitch, “I have heard so much about you.”
The back yard, ever a bustle of activity, stopped to frankly stare, but there was no ra-ra-ra.  Just another one of Mitch’s radical pals.  Like hell! Let the lad put his feet up first. Do it proper later Changri had decreed. Been reading it ip.  Mitch had felt cautious, reasoning Changri’s idea of doing it proper might not be Sarat’s, which he presumed to be Maya’s.  Things can change in a thousand years.  Sounds impeccable to me, Heela had said.   Formal but not extravagant, Mitch agreed.  For the moment Sarat met only Great Aunt Asaa and Uncle Wilan, both of whom had invited themselves to stay.  Asaa looked him up and down.  Ah, Cho’s cub.  “I am he!” said Sarat. “You intend to get arrested?”  she asked with some enthusiasm. It was revealed this small stooped old lady of some 88 years was quite possibly worse than Mitch and had been notorious.
Marula also had invited herself, along with Vannina and Cantilip, but was not arriving until tomorrow.
 
Dill  had absorbed ‘real modern young guy’ and prepared a small entertainment.  Baria had sidled up to her grandmother.  We’ve got something to show you.  Kyle had laughed all the way through and pronounced it delectable, entirely fit for public viewing.  
“Our children,” said Mitch, “have prepared a short topical presentation.  Our subject is the use of smartphones by teens.”    Dill had thought it prudent he attend rehearsal to make doubly sure it would be OK.  Karula, chief foe in this respect, had not been let in.
Enter Dill
Mom disapproves of how much time we spend on our phones.  She says we shall develop the concentration spans of headless chickens.  We wish to show we can understand words of more than three letters.  The Var-sega’ Players present an excerpt from Silently She Trod.
Qirl stepped forward and unrolled a short scroll.  Baria crosses the room behind him holding up a placard and pointing to it: IT’S ALL ON THE GRID
The scene is a room in the House at Var-sega’.  Samia ban-sarndit-vaq a most eru- - eru – I can never pronounce that – “
Erudite said Dill in a stage whisper
Erudite and learned lady sits surrounded by many volumes of enormous cultural significance and historic moment  –
I got that from the Guidebook, murmured Dill.  Baria crossed back waving her placard, then held up another one: SOLILOQUY BY DILL.  MIME BY QIRL.
These words so crowd my mind that I do hear in dreams distant voices calling
[Picture of someone addressing a crowd – hand to ear – head to one side, resting on hands together – hand to ear.  Baria returns to walking back and forth with IT’S ALL ON THE GRID]
Thus directed do I ride league on league and see great cities, empty plains and men
[Finger pointing – hands making galloping motion – hand above eyes as though gazing into distance]
Who do with argument abound and reason most enchantingly upon high matters
[Graphic of question-marks, ‘But’, ‘If’, ‘And’ – 2+2 = 4  -
How best to steer the ship of state, while flowers dance, the very earth gives rise
[Rowing movement – as though holding girl in arms to dance -  pointing frantically at the floor]
To visions
[Wide eyes]
That which cannot be …
[Shakes head, obviously didn’t see what I thought I saw]
 
Just freeze that frame, that small and merry gathering of what you might call extended family.  In ten years’ time the unimaginable will have befallen them.
 
 “I would not think that critical,” said Karula, “considering the most run-down areas are the poorest.  Start on the doorstep.”
“But who is to pay? The State?”
Mitch smiled.
“You call in a private company to fix the road outside your door because no-one else will.  I think it is the case that throughout the south public thoroughfares are considered at least a municipal responsibility.”
“Persons of middling income will not vote for increased taxation.”
“Maybe,” said Mitch and smiled at Sarat.
Sarat said: “The highways were under public control under imperial law.  It comes from the bit about living without hindrance.  If a road is private, then you may be barred from using it.”
“A considerable amount of hooey,” said Mitch, “is uttered with the purpose of indicating that the standards of the civilized world are alien to Kadun, but that is not of course the case.”
Heela smiled.
“WE have of course here at expert in imperial law.”
“No way!” said Sarat.  “But we do have – the Constitution of Dabida is derived from imperial law and A-M have to learn it inside out and back to front.”
“You are where in the succession?” demanded Asaa.
“Was,” said Maya.  “Fifth. Mel, Hass, Pietri, my father, Vij.  Until Mel has kids. It was never going to happen anyway, but Tar said he didn’t quite think Sarat would do as King of Dabida, so I gave it up.”
“Indeed,” said Heela, failing to keep a straight face.
“The reverse, of course,” pursued Asaa.
“It’s a possibility,” said Maya.
“I am sure you can tell us much about the Dabidan model.”
Very old ladies, thought Sarat, are allowed to issue orders.
 
They had noticed immediately that there were no dogs and it became apparent there were no cats, rabbits or hamsters either.  They invented reasons: allergy?  There had indeed when he was 12 been a girl in Sarat’s class who claimed she couldn’t sit next to him because he brought on her asthma.  Of course you must come to Fidub!  Only…
Sarat found he felt strangely off about approaching the subject, as though it were indelicate but plunged in.
“Obviously lovely if you stayed in Fidub, only we can’t help noticing – does someone have a fur allergy?”
“First thing you meet,” said Maya, “is Essa’s wolfhounds.  Of course you can always stay with Cho.”
“WE have stables,” said Mitch.
“And no ratters?  Four-footed ones.”
Not sure it’s the epitome of courtesy to grill the House on whether it has a kitchen-cat.
“Tell you later,” said Mitch.
 
Mitch took Sarat and Maya out to see some of the sights of Var-sega’, for instance the foaming Biril, a notoriously polluted river.
Sarat looked at it sorrowfully.  “I just don’t fancy a swim.”  Then he warmed to his subject.  Counter-productive.  Source of recreation.  Source of food.  Danger to wildlife, danger to livestock.  Danger to people.  Danger to the very oceans.  Because Barbantin, who are not short of a buck, refuses to deal with its garbage.  The wanton discharge of toxic waste into the public arena.  Absolute contempt for people, for the planet, for anything except the next dollar. 
Not scared of being sued, then, Sarat
No legislation demanding they clear up their own garbage. Puh-lease weren’t they toilet-trained. Yes I’m equating this with human waste, except in some ways it’s worse, such as not being bio-degradable.
“Perhaps we should not quite pursue that one, at least publicly. I am sure Mitch has tld ou the back drp, the exigencies of war.  Further, to engage staff on this ‘trivialty’ would take men awy from vital military production lines.
“Or military service itself,” added Mitch.
“Mitch has told me a lot about Barbantin, not least that they have a near monopoly and think they run the joint.  It occurred to me a little healthy competition might focus them better.”
“Employ women?” suggested Maya.
“My lady Maya!  This is men’s work. Caapital M, capital W.”
“So it’s OK for kids to fall into this sewer, but not OKfor women to – got it.  No legislation protecting them or anyone else.”
Mitch nodded sagely.
“You may be getting the hang of this.”
“Bah!  What Sarat said.  Arms need twisting. The larger concern of course is the poor guys who work unprotected.  A guy who developed tumours on his kidneys got backed by CLIK to sue.  Of course the House backed him too.  Everyone thought the medical evidence was cast-iron.  It was – “
Through murmurmuring of you know about that, hey.  We are not exactly uninformed.
“You might not have heard of See Piss, as it is lamentably called.  It’s a PANTHER organization, C-P-I-S, Committee for Probity in Science.  Dad’s part of it.  He was livid.  He thought – they all thought Futura Labs falsified data on behalf of Barbantin – “
“They’ll sue you.  No joke.”
“They all thought Futura falsified data on behalf of Barbantin.  It made the Times.  On their Grid-site.”
“The Straits Times?  Very much in the public arena.”
“The case failed.  It’s pretty much given that if you’re exposed to x microns human cells go waaah! and turn cancerous. Pretty much, by the way, mean the idiosyncrasies of the individual human body.  You can probably always find an exception, people who smoke or work with toxic substances and don’t get sick.  These things take their time.  Like – suppose you lived till 80 and never got sick.  Your resistance might have give up by the time you were 90 or a post-mortem would show the beginnings of sickness.  Barbantin were clever. They said that level of exposure is a nonsense and here is the evidence independently assessed to prove it. So all the evidence was circumstantial.  Given the processes and machines used, in the notorious absence of any health and safety provision it follows that the level of exposure will be…They said the notorious absence was garbage and they had a special filtration system.  The guys working there never noticed it but they weren’t expert witnesses and PANTHER took a look but their evidence was thrown out on the grounds of illegal entry.”
“A filtration system invisible to the human eye!  Among a lot of things, I think many of us were not aware PANTHER had other -  branches or is that Sardun!”
“Other fish to fry?”
“Always did,” said Baz.  “Empire’s social workers.”
“Cease and desist in the emperor’s name!” carolled Paw.
“About the size of it,” said Sarat.
“Good headline?” suggested Mitch. 
“Serious,” said Sarat.  “Of each we uphold the right to live without hindrance.  Imperial law.  In fairness I don’t tink it applied to fish but I am sure guys being made sick by their work are being badly hindered.”
“The core point of course,” said Mitch, “is there is what I think we may call a meme or perhaps a flavour indicating the standards of civilized people are alien to Kadun, and that of course is nonsense.”
“To none in need shall physic be withheld,” said Baz.
“Does that mean what I think it means – you are seriously telling me the empire offered free healthcare?  I really don’t think I believe that.”
“Tough,” said Sarat.  “Obviously there were no antibiotics, x-rays.  What treatments there were had to be available to all, even if all that could be done was alleviate suffering.”
“The public hospital in Sinva is in fact an ancient foundation,” said Mitch. “Go read their statutes.”
“So part of the problem is in fact – advances in medical science, pushing the cost up.”
“Kadun is not poor,” said Sarat.
“Part of the problem is Big Pharma,” said Mitch.  “I can cite you 300% profit on basic drugs, Vivala for blood pressure.”
“We know they’re rats, Mitch.”
“I’m a cat,” said Sarat.
“Going back to – surely trained chemists would be required.  Whatever you think of it, I suspect we don’t have many women chemists.”
 
“Take Nelotides,” said Maya.  “They make armaments for the Quadrant. We know there are a number of fantasies circulating about southern industry moving into Kadun.  That’s probably not going to happen because of the A-word, automation.  I mean it wouldn’t be Day One, you’re in a dirty factory with unsafe machinery and Day Two you’re in a clean factory with safe machinery doing exactly the same thing, because the work you did in the dirty factory doesn’t exist in the new one.  None of us is about putting irturbi out of work.  Kadun has to sort herself out first.”
“I would think Mitch’s friends in CLIK are very much about protecting jobs.”
“It has to come and they know it has to come,” said Mitch.  “The question is managing it.”
“So the Quadrant’s fine armaments are not actually made by people.”
  “Of course there was one hell of a row – one specialist system is not snatching bread from the mouths of our workers, but there is the question of patriotism.  Of course we must support our own industries.  Was that Nelotides?”
“A missile detcction system,” explained Mitch.  “Rewn said he bought the best.  And it is not good to accuse Rewn of lack of patriotism.”
“He laughs too loudly,” said one of the journos enthusiastically. 
 
MIAOW!
Persons turned, startled. 
Secret PANTHER call-sign, said Baz, looking at his phone.  He snorted.
“Mail from Hass.  Dear Narulis, couple of cartoons from the Zur Gazette. TTT if you will stalk Kadun quoting imperial law.”
He passed the phone to Maya, who also snorted and passed it without comment to Sarat, while of  the throng all searched Zur Gazette.
Raya  in Azt, stars in her eyes, hugging herself in ecstasy, standing in front of a building labelled Imperial Library.  “Mine, all mine!”
Maya in Azt sitting on the Anile Throne.  Zani inset: “Well, now, there’s a turn-up!  Of course I wasn’t paired with Narulis.”
“Oh for,” said Sarat.  “Zani.”
Some weren’t quite sure how it was appropriate to react and others who didn’t give a damn about that.
“A reputation as something of a bookworm?”
“We must assume Zani and Susheela was never a possibility!”
“Still, I have thought it strange she found no-one else, some dashing young Fidubi.”
“There would surely have been – difficulties.”
“Oh, there would,” said Sarat.
“I suppose the poor lady was somewhat traumatized.”
Sarat was very taken aback.
“Obviously she’d had a hairy time.  Not too traumatized to found Sohenoil!  She was quite a lady.”
“The House bathes in reflected glory,” said Mitch.  “I have to confess we know very little of Susheela’s life in Fidub.  Other considerations at the time.”
Eeek.  Fortunately distraction was at hand.
“Sohenoil is that ancient?  I think they did not then drill for oil.”
“Oh,” said Sarat.  “No.  Not that kind of oil.  In the retail trade like AMI, sort of cousins.  Cooking oil.  The oil from the sira.”
“And Susheela – “
“She and Falnos, her eldest.  They had to fund PANTHER.”
Baz retold the story with bells on. 
From this Sarat deduced that Var-sega’s journos were not forumites.  Reasonable.  Like putting an alcoholic in a brewery.
 
Here we are back at the House, the evening drawing to a close, dinner-guests departed, Asaa indeed retired for the night, but Wilan going strong.
 
Sarat waffled away in bed.
“Can’t work it out.  I know Cho was close to Heela’s father.  Does Heela not know?”
Maya persisted in being reasonable.
“Even if Heela does know, Mitch has been in the City.  Nothing I know about him suggests he would have had the faintest interest in ancient history before he left!  It’s only a subject because we’re here.”
“I’ll call Cho.”
“Greetings,” said Cho. “You wish me to post bail?”
“Having a wonderful time, wish you were here.  Want to ask you sometime.  Mitch expressed vague interest in learning what happened to Susheela.”
“Ah.”
“He is Sardun.”
“Who were of course closely involved at the time.  This may be more readily digested in V-k.”
“Heela doesn’t know?  Marula’s pitching up tomorrow.”
“Excellent.  Heela knows.  Better from you.”
“We couldn’t see anywhere in Mitch’s life where the subject would have come up!”
“All of it,” said Cho laughing, “down to the last molecule of Fidubi silver.”
“It’s not really my field, he bleated.  What does Marula know?”
“Suddenly you are very far from home.”
“Nonsnese, all the best people live in Casin-ruhn.  Stop laughing like that.  Yes.  I know exactly nothing about Sardun at the eso level.”
“Then you too will learn.”
“Does Heela know about the chair?”
“Oh yes.  Possibly he has sat on it.  And Marula, of course.”
“Sat on Marula?”
“That is not possible.”
“May I show them the documents.”
“Yes.  And download.  You are being unusually sensitive about this.”
“It’s very very personal to me.  It  - is me, everything I am.”
“Think about that,” said Cho.
But Marula was not arriving until late afternoon.  Our star of the following day was a waste disposal facility that failed to dispose of biological waste, specifically that from hospitals, amputated limbs, organs.  So Sarat was told.  The stink helped.  High fences PRIVATE BEWARED OF THE DOGS prevented entry. 
Back to the House.  Marula reclined, Cantilip knelt on the floor talking to Qirl.  Saban stood by the window.  Behna chatted amiably to Heela and Dill.  Vannina was doing a jigsaw with Baria.  A delegation.
“Ah, here they are,” said Kyle.
Marula smiled.
“Should there not be a fanfare of trumpets?”
“Maya can do guitar,” said Sarat.  “I’m quite good on drums.”
Saban laughed out loud.
Cantilip had jumped up.
“Delicious.  So pleased.”
Yup, Cantilip is pretty delicious, in what would have been bottle-green fatigues, had they not been made of heavy silk, shining dark green hair cascading down her back.  Kyle was among the first to contemplate how fortunate (or unfortunate, depending on your perspective) Sarat was already paired.
“The revolutionaries,” said Behna enthusiastically.
“We try,” said Mitch.
Well isn’t this just a happy family reunion.  At one point Sarat and Cantilip were arguing about the seeding of Derera’s pine.  Complex glances were exchanged and it wasn’t a reproach that conversatoin be more general. 
“You have to come!” said Cantilip.
“Of course I have to come!” said Sarat, “In other words thank you for your kind invitation.”
Dinner was held.  The children went reluctantly to bed. Sarat felt that he metaphorically cleared his throat.
“Mitch said you didn’t know what happened to Susheela.  I do!  She kept a journal.  Don’t know if you’d like to hear the story.”
“You have Susheela’s journal.  That would be superb.”
“We are agog,” said Kyle. Heela, who knew, just smiled.
Sarat said: “I think I need first to say – it’s the wildest craziest other matter story.  I’m a scientist.  There are parts of it I flatly don’t believe.  Which means.  I believe people say what they think happened.  Whether it actually happened and wasn’t a further layer of illusion is something else.”
“What on earth – “ began Mitch.
Sarat gave way to laughter.
“Good question.”
“Lemme set the scene,” said Maya.  “Zani defeated Jaizal before the Great Gates!  It’s Zur’s favourite story, only of course he didn’t, he defeated Corsin.  Jaizal was nowhere around.”
“First Event was before that,” said Sarat.
“Just getting there.  Jaizal hath sent a mighty army forth to conquer Fidub.  Only the guys in the mighty army didn’t much like Jaizal and joined with the guys in the south.  We call it the First Event.  So they turned round and went back.  News of this reached Azt and turmoil began. In the midst of which Jaizal quietly vanished.”
“They said, the rat has fled!  They said he was murdered, they said he’d escaped by sea.  None of these is actually true.  He went to look for his chair.  My chair.”
“You – “ began Heela, then let Sarat continue. 
“As you know, I think you know, some of you know, the actual throne is in Casin-ruhn – “
“What!” said Mitch.
“I think you have their attention,” murmured Maya.
“Van-senok nicked it,” said Sarat.
“We are forgiven?” asked Marula with something close to a giggle.
“You weren’t to know it would end up in Ciletij.”
“Dear Varchulan,” said Maya, “you have something of ours, please may we have it back.”
“Why,” said Sarat, “is I think unclear.  Obviously something to do with Casin-ruhn, maybe some kind of purification?”
“The goddess lives in an ice-palace at the bottom of the lake,” said Cantilip cheerfully.  “Mummy thinks it’s sort of rededicating the land to her, recrowning her queen.”
“At least they didn’t chuck it in the lake!”  Mitch.  “I am understanding the throne is buried among the trees?”
“Oh no,” said Sarat.  “There’s a cabin, a rather strange cabin, get to that later.  Yea, many legends surround the Anile Throne.  It sings, dances, plays the piano.  Possibly a chorus of dancing-bears high-kicks across the floor of the Ciletij Senate when someone sits on it.  The problem with all this stuff is at least some of it is true.  When you sit on the chair – we call it the chair because it looks like a kitchen chair, total absence of scrolls or clawed feet – you trip, in the modern sense, take a mental journey.”
“I cling to the practical,” said Mitch.  “I wondered how on earth it was possible to get it out of Azt, but if it – nondescript, presumably it would not have been hard to load it onto a cart.”
“It’s solid silver,” sighed Sarat, “but sure, tarnished, covered in mud.  OK, there we are, a might army is advancing on Azt.  Susheela was not in Azt either.  He kept her and her children away from it all in the Summer Palace. He understood she was special and she understood – she understood he needed her, she was his last – sole – foothold on sanity.  Her brothers tred to rescues her but she wouldn’t leave.  What she said was taking her children, the youngest then just a baby, would endanger them all.  She wouldn’t leave her children.  She would not leave Jaizal – “
“I trust you will not feed us southern psycho-babble claiming he was misunderstood?”
“First hear the story,” said Sarat. 
“I for one will not hear such nonsense.”
“Then listen and learn,” said Sarat.  “t’s a really exciting story.  Jaizal had a younger brother and a sister, so there were three people he trusted, Vargilia, Samas and Susheela, all of whom he kept locked up, but what are locks to – any of us.  Oh dear, Samas has escaped, the brother.  Corsin of course launched amn-hunt, fearing people would rally to him.  They looked in the wrong direction.  Samas had gone to Fidub.  Long and complicated story.  Jaizal surmised correctly that PANTHER knew where the chair was.  Samas feared to deliver himself to PANTHER thinking, also possibly correctly, they’d kill him.  Jaizal had to have the real chair.  He thought it might heal him and was more likely to kill him but that was a rightful death, the emperor on the throne, unlike other possible demises.  Yea, many legends surround the throne!  It’s silver, Fidubi silver.  As we know, Fidub is geologically bizarre.  The Institute of Geophysics on Arit spent ten years trying to find out why the Isles sing.  Also burns the tootsies of the bad guys.  These properties are contained, it is said, in the throne.  If I sat Krarlik on it, he’d burn.  Possibly.  If I sat on it, it’d sing.  Possibly.  Samas had the sense to go to the shrine at M-P.  They hadn’t known the throne had been swapped and were curious.  They made enquiries…Alas, it is in Van-senok. Something of a downer for Jaizal, but they could see no harm in his knowing and let Samas return to Kadun. Fidub, Fidub, Isles of the Blest, Jewel of the East, Star of the West.  He winced.  He was a cultured man.  It’s all the same story.  He had no interest whatever in what is now Dabida.  If he could conquer Fidub, then the shrine would either kill or cure.  Corsin of course simply wanted Fidub under the heel. 
When it became clear the army wasn’t going to get anywhere, he made his last public appearance on this earth, addressing the Senate, lot of guff about the necessity of total victory, entrusted Susheela to Samas, and vanished.  He was just about the most hated man on the continent, but he still had his powers and he was going away from the war.  He thought he had a chance.  He wanted of course to take Susheela but that would just have made it more likely they’d all be murdered, by bandits if nothing else. Two things.  Increasing cries of The empire is dead!  Not fruitful ground for her, Zani, her son, any – contender for the throne.  The other thing is the mob in Azt doesn’t seem to have thought of her.  Loot was what was on its mind.  PANTHER thought of her.  The staff, guards either fled or loved her, basically.  She was just that sort of lady.  They understood she was as much a prisoner as they.  Had been.  Jaizal had always arrived by water, in the imperial barge. They were close to the river.  PANTHER pitched up in a much cruder barge and apparently that bit was quite easy.  See a woman with three kids in old and dirty clothes on an old and dirty barge and you don’t particularly think – lo, it is the Empress!  The docks were in chaos, trade disrupted, food rotting, rats fleeing.  Rumour of a fleet coming up from the south.  That bit’s total garbage, the battle between the Imperial Fleet and Fidub was far to the south.”
I am hypnotized, thought Mitch, this is my history.
“They did not change sides?” asked Heela.
“Some surrendered, but what they called the black ships of course didn’t.  Not so many surrendering.  Of course they had no news of the about-turn.  Now, as Cho puts it, the House of Fire really did not want to know that Sonny that screwed up, but they were decent people and took them in.  So there she was in a foreign country with her cats and they were already saying, never, ever, ever again dependent, on anyone, ever, never.  For a time of course they were getting constant news from Kadun but then the dust settled and cat-future had to be settled too.  Jaizal reached Casin-ruhn – “
“He what!  Sorry, pray continue…”
Saban smiled.
“Sardun know this story.”
Marula looked at him sharply but said nothing.  Karula said unexpectedly, “There is an old myth that Jaizal haunts Casin-ruhn.  It is part of its being a place of pure evil.  I find I am on the edge of my seat as to – what element of truth!”
“Susheela began her journal, a very private one.  I guess it helped her debrief.”
“So you know – exactly what passed.”
 “Everything they did to Jaizal.  He knew, you see, he knew what had been done to him.  That’s why he kept her locked away, the one part of him that was still Jaizal.  She was the only person in the world who called him Jaizal.  He talked sometimes in his sleep.  Sometimes he screamed.  He had to have the chair. So he went to find it. They said, he was killed by his own guards, but no body was found.  They said, he escaped by water and died at sea, and no wreckage could be found.  They said, the rat has fled.  Disguise accent, disguise body language, to disguise the profile is hard but he still had his power, blurring vision, erasure of what you just saw, and Kadun was not densely populated.  Nonetheless he was the single most hated man on the continent.  He arrived at Casin-ruhn and sat on the chair.  He had no idea what if anything would happen.  At first it seemed that he was burning and then the dross was burned away and he tripped, in the modern sense, visions of past and present and who knows where and – ss if I can remember it, ‘then it seemed to me like unto death, but it was only sleep and wakefulness found me on a couch of furs and a great man did tend the fire but must this not be another dream.”  He wrote to Susheela.
“Sarat! You – have – Jaizal’s letter.”  Mitch.
“We have Jaizal’s love-letters.  They’re amazing, he managed to both pour out his wounded heart to her and be totally without self-pity or self-justification.  He saw everything with painful clarity.  Sarat grinned wildl y at Saban.  “Sardun dropped in from time to time, even then.  From them he got news and quill and parchment. And they said, let her forget. And he said, no, she must know from me I am alive and whole and at peace and that is her peace. So he wrote to Susheela.  My love.  And she wrote back.  They corresponded so far as was possible. I mean this wasn’t pop to the post-box.  Sardun were the couriers.  And when the youngest was 18, she said, I go now, and she took ship, which was a lot safer than crossing Kadun, for anyone,  and went to him.  It gets worse.  The great man in furs was Kaminua and with him my lady Asyrion.”
“Sarat!”
“Casin-ruhn, abode of dead emperors.  Even Jaizal was not entirely – ‘But I did become persuaded they had found immortality among the trees, though a strange immortality where one’s needs are those of men for assuredly they eat and drink as mortals do and this is beyond my understanding.”  Yes, that is the nub!  There is just something about supposedly immortal people roasting haunch of moose.  We think they’re Denzine shape-changers, but no-one has ever been able to break the illusion and no-one has a clue why it has been kept up for nearly a thousand years. Cho’s met Kaminua too. You may well say, why didn’t Jaizal ask them?  He did!  Why don’t I~ - ?  You have meetings here, there must be a screen. Another question of course is why didn’t Sardun kill him. Then they really are lost to history. Sardun escorted them to the coast.  It is thought they set sail for Harn.  Of course after everything they might have foundered at sea.”
“Thank you so much!” said Karula.  “That is the most amazing story I have heard in my life!”
“A screen?” asked Mitch.  “This is on-line, a private archive.”
Sarat laughed
“As soon as it was possible to scan things we scanned everything, for the simple reason that the only guys interested were in Kadun.  Historians have always trekked to Fidub.”
“We repairto the Library!” declared Heela.  “Absolutely riveting.  I thank you also.  The history of this House is enriched by this story.”
Kyle asked one question: “how old was she?”
Sarat smiled.  “Young enough.  There has been a great deal of sniffing around.  If they had more children, no-one knows whose children they were.”
“You have met Tima in the forum,” said Rewn.  “His antecedent of course was Samas.”
My lady Susheela, my love.
I would wish you know me alive and well and in safety.  There is much mystery in this place and my understanding fails me but I have sat on the throne and it seemed to me a great anguish in my heart such that it was bursting, breaking out of my chest and I was burning in pain beyond imagining, and many strange visions.  The stars shrivelled and died, and I so I thought myself with them, and I was content, but it was only sleep and wakefulness found me on a couch of furs and a great man did tend the fire but must this not be another dream.  I say only here that this lor of the wilderness, guardian of the throne knew me and bears me no ill will…
“Later,” said Sarat, “when he was sure of her and more confident in his couriers, he wrote freely.”
And I said I must ask it, for are we not taught that to die is to leave the body, and yet you feast.  He said, what point bereft of life’s pleasures.  In that I saw reason but scarce explanation.  But how came you to perceive this gift?  I was sick unto death, said my lady, and it was taught me.  I beseeched but one thing, that it be shared with my beloved.  But you wish to know by whom!  They came from a world they called Sug, from beyond the stars.  Nor were they as men, but smaller and more rounded in form.  They had a vessel that crossed the skies.  Fleeing from their homeland, they sought sanctuary elsewhere and so came to rest among the trees.  They say Death pursued them but always they outran him, and it was they the Cult sought to destroy. 
“When you think it really can’t get any worse, “ said Maya, “it gets worse.”
“Oh yes,” said Sarat.  “Ciletij.  Trees.  I was roaming the Grid looking at good solid worthy stuff, the incidence of Yata’s pine – “ The wild grin again, this time directed at Cantilip.  “ – which I do appreciate is entirely distinct from Dira’s pine, when I followed a link and fell off the edge.”
“Jaaba-Sen?” asked Saban.
“Jaaba-Sen indeed.  That piece of the planet has quite a reputation.”
“Including of course aliens,” said Maya.  “I really thought about this.  Decided I had no problem with the principle of aliens, the possibility, just an awful lot with them popping down to Casin-ruhn and not otherwise introducing themselves.”
“Is that polite!” demanded Sarat.  “See why Van-senok got shot of it, at least.  When a border with Ciletij was drawn up, V-k, said take it, it’s yours! Goes far beyond just giving them Casin-ruhn.”
Cantilip looked startled.
“It was originally V-k?  I did not know that.”
“Nor I,” said Behna.
“Old news,” said Marula.
“If you look at the old maps, V-k goes right up to the ice,” said Heela.  He smiled.  “We gave nothing to Vasucula.”
 “That is all very fine and laudable,” said Karula, “let there be peace between our two tribes.  It is surely a little surprising that they left the throne there.”
“I thought that,” said Sarat.  “Then I thought, well OK, they didn’t exactly what it back in Azt, did they.  I’m guessing they thought – like a memorial to the empire.”
“If it is there,” said Maya with a particularly deep sigh.  “To those of normal perception, I mean.”
Just enjoy, thought Saban.
“The trouble is normal people go there.  There’s a Commemoration Society and it gathers every year.  I’ve seen the vids.  If we look at the satellite pix…Lake.  Building.  If we go now to the vids….Lake.  Building. There’s  a shack there.  I don’t suppose the Ciletij worthies even think about it.  It’s described as a log-store.  But there was one year – a blizzard descended out of the blue and so any shelter is better than no shelter, the door was opened – and they were confronted by piles of logs.  Evertything about this story is impossible!”
“How do they get there?” asked Mitch
“Good question!  Although it’s a national day of remembrance, not many people actually attend because it’s practically impossible.  Someone represents the government, someone represents the military, there’re members of the Commemoration Committee, an obligatory film-crew and that’s that.  Sea-plane.  Land on the lake.”
Behna grinned.
“Bet the goddess loves that!”
Sarat tutted.
“Most disruptive!”
“Sub-plot,” said Maya, “attempted Cult infiltration of the Committee.  Hats off to them they said go hang.  The H-W work with SIS.  Please continue.”
Mitch asked, “You trust SIS?”
“Not a lot,” said Maya. 
Mitch looked as if he wanted to pursue the subject but Heela frowned at him.
“There is therefore a shack,” continued Sarat.  “If you arrive unannounced, if you are for instance Cho, or – “  He sighed again.  “Others throughout the years, you get a different picture.  A freshly painted and clearly inhabited cabin.  In about a third of it stands the chair, on a little stone plinth.  The rest is apparently where people live, there are two bunks, blankets, a stove, chairs and tables, stores.  The logs are piled outside.  The merry occupants duly arrive, laughing, welcoming, stamping the snow off their boots.”
“It makes no sense!” said Maya joyfully.  “No sense if you believe in an after-life.  No sense if you’re a materialist.  Absolutely no sense if you’re a biologist.”
“X-rays,” growled Sarat.  “Blood samples.”
I have rarely, thought Marula, seen Saban looking so absolutely happy.
“We continue to pop in,” he said.  “Such has been thought by others.  But as you say no-one has broken the spell.”
“I am Sardun,” said Mitch softly.  “I am therefore not ignorant of the more basic aspects of the other matter.  But I a rationalist. Specifically I have no problem with the idea that we are – finite.I have to say I feel dragged through a hedge backwards.  At least we have in the Denzines a tentative explanation for Kaminua, but – no-one has asked them?”
“Most recently Mel, when he was in the City.  They feign ignorance.  Lie?  Of course it was a long time ago.  Mel asked to look at their archives.
 
Now that was an eye-opener and we do not mean the crazy stuff.  Clearly his heritage means a very great deal to him.
There are many colourful descriptions of Challin.  A lethal silken wave is probably the best one.  This now broke upon the House, together with small, round and equally lethal Rewn. Sarat said after they looked at him as they might look at a new junior officer, wondering quite what to do with him.
“Of course you have your studies,” said Rewn.
“Not sure,” said Sarat.  “Long conversations with my dad.  I am a scientist or a politician?  I deal in fact but – I was never going to be, intended to be a specialist, an expert.  Understanding science is not the same.”
“You are surely not going to drop out!” said Mitch in mock-horror.
“Lot of things,” said Sarat.  “When I pass an exam, I’ve succeeded in my own right.  Anything else I do, who I am is going to be there somewhere.”
Maya grinned.
“On the other hand he’s passed a lot of exams by now.”
“It has always been – impressed upon me that if I got involved in Kadun the only direction is forward. People would not be impressed if I backed out.  Especially if it got hairy.  We don’t like fair-weather friends in Fidub.  So here I am and I don’t know.”
Whew.
“But you return to Zur.  Surely we all seem a long way away.”
“No,” said Sarat.
“Carlin, of course.”
“More ways than one,” said Maya.  “Don’t forget the H-W.  We too have a border with Vaudos.”  She grinned.  “If not one easily crossed.”
Sarat said: “If you were designing a natural obstacle, you probably couldn’t do better. But of course all the same.”
“Herds of them,” said Maya.
“None of whom are officially in Kadun.”
“Oh, none!” said Maya. 
“May I ask the precise legal status.  I am thinking that since Sarat’s grandfather is head of PANTHER.”
“The H-W are Tar’s.  The Crown is one of ye sacred pillars of ye Constitution.  You will recall the consent of three is required.  However, like PANTHER, the H-W obey no-one, no-one at all, including the law.  When push comes to shove, I mean, think they’re quite meticulous about traffic regulations.  They’ve set their own boundaries.  First and foremost and obviously, their business is the defence of Dabida, not of Kadun, so you’re not going to find them in V-k leaving the border unprotected.  Second, however, should the task in hand involve setting hooves on Kadun soil, they will  unflinchingly pursue it.  For instance joint ops with PANTHER. It’s pretty easy to shoot ropes across with someone on the other side to secure them.”
Mitch got out his phone.
“Looking for pix of the Great Divide.”
“Depends on the time of year,” said Sarat.  “Spate.  Sheer drop into white water, bare sides on which can be picked off like sitting ducks.”
“I imagine not a few have been washed out to sea,” said Rewn enthusiastically, then frowned.  “Losses?”
“Four,” said Maya.
Sarat said: “A lot of people went round in large circles over Carlin.  Time enough for military involvement f Carlin fall.  If they went in, Carlin would not fall.  Dabida does not want body-bags, unless of course there is no choice, which made a few people uncomfortable.  Leaving Carlin to do the dirty work while we sit cosy on the other side of our Great Divide.”
Maya smiled.  “A lot of unofficial support.  Anything else we can do for you guys?  When it came to it, Carlin didn’t need men.  I think we supplied practically anything else.”
Mitch grinned.
“I think Vasucula and VILE followed much that pattern.”
Rewn laughed.
“While of course we are battle-hardened men of steel it is extraordinary what something ridiculous from Vasucula does for morale.