Embassytown Part 9

"I don't know," I said. I spoke carefully.

I suspected from his stillness that Valdik had an idea, in fact, as I did, what this might have been. That Scile, by these unnatural attention-getting rituals, was trying to stick in the mind. Trying to be good to think with, to be suggestive. To become a simile.

What the h.e.l.l did he think he might mean? I thought, but corrected myself: that wouldn't matter.

A CORVID DROPPED CORVID DROPPED us deep in the city, in astonis.h.i.+ng rooms, catacombs in skin, alcoves full of house's organs sutured in place. us deep in the city, in astonis.h.i.+ng rooms, catacombs in skin, alcoves full of house's organs sutured in place.

The hall was full of the interplaited cadences of Language. I'd never seen so many young, just woken into their third instar and Language. They matched their parents in size and shape, but they were children and you could tell by the colour of their bellies and the way they were given to swaying. They were avid spectators while the liars tried to lie.

Most of the compet.i.tors could only be silent, failing in their struggle to say something not true. I was with Ha.s.ser, Valdik and a few others chosen from among our regulars I don't know how. We were chaperoned by ArnOld. They were there to perform and made it clear that they resented this babysitting duty. Hosts greeted them by their correct name: "[image]".

Scile was with me. He was talking, tentatively, with my simile companions. It had been a fair time since he'd seen Language in its home; it was for him I'd asked for this: he knew it, had been shy with grat.i.tude. We were not nearly so close as we'd been at the time of our first festival, and I think the present surprised him. I hadn't heard of any more efforts to enLanguage himself. I'd said nothing about any of them to him.

Before now the humans came. A Host, a lie-athlete, one of the Professors, I realised, was speaking.

Before the humans came we were . . . and it stalled. One of its companions continued. and it stalled. One of its companions continued. Before the humans came we didn't speak so much of certain things. Before the humans came we didn't speak so much of certain things. A sensation went through the audience. It was followed by another speaker: A sensation went through the audience. It was followed by another speaker: Before the humans came we didn't speak so much . . . Before the humans came we didn't speak so much . . .

I'd learnt enough to know this trick, a collaborative faux-mendacity: the last was repeating the previous sentence but dropping its voices to near nothing at the final clause. Of certain things Of certain things was said, but so quietly the audience couldn't hear it. It was showmans.h.i.+p, fakery, a crowd-pleaser, and the crowd were pleased. was said, but so quietly the audience couldn't hear it. It was showmans.h.i.+p, fakery, a crowd-pleaser, and the crowd were pleased.

ArnOld stiffened and said together: "[image]".

Beehive. It was swaying. Its giftwing circled, its fanwing stretched. It stepped up to the lying ground.

THERE WERE two main ways the few Ariekei who could lie a little could lie. One was to go slow. They would try to conceive the untrue clause-near-impossible, their minds reacting allergically to such a counterfactual even unspoken, conceived without signification. Having prepared it mentally, however successfully or un-, they would pretend-forget it to themselves. Speak each of its const.i.tuent words at a certain speed, at a beat, separated, apart enough in the mind of a speaker that each was a distinct concept, utterable with and as its own meaning; but just sufficiently fast and rhythmic that to listeners, they accreted into a ponderous but comprehensible, and untrue, sentence. The liars I had thus far seen with any success were slow-liars. two main ways the few Ariekei who could lie a little could lie. One was to go slow. They would try to conceive the untrue clause-near-impossible, their minds reacting allergically to such a counterfactual even unspoken, conceived without signification. Having prepared it mentally, however successfully or un-, they would pretend-forget it to themselves. Speak each of its const.i.tuent words at a certain speed, at a beat, separated, apart enough in the mind of a speaker that each was a distinct concept, utterable with and as its own meaning; but just sufficiently fast and rhythmic that to listeners, they accreted into a ponderous but comprehensible, and untrue, sentence. The liars I had thus far seen with any success were slow-liars.

There was another technique. It was the more base and vivid, and by far harder. This was for the speaker to collapse, in their mind, even individual word-meanings, and simply to brute-utter all necessary sounds. To force out a statement. This was quick-lying: the spitting out of a tumble of noises before the untruth of their totality stole a speaker's ability to think them.

[image]opened its mouths.

Before the humans came, it said in ornery staccato, we didn't speak. we didn't speak.

There was a long quiet. And then a convulsion, a riot.

I wished very much that I had any understanding of Ariekene body language.[image] might have been exuding triumph, patience, or nothing. It hadn't whispered the second half of any truth; or trudged sound-by-metronome-sound through a constructed-unconstructed sentence. What might have been exuding triumph, patience, or nothing. It hadn't whispered the second half of any truth; or trudged sound-by-metronome-sound through a constructed-unconstructed sentence. What[image] had said was unquestionably a lie. had said was unquestionably a lie.

The audience reeled. I reeled.

THE H HOSTS woke in their third instar suddenly fluent, Language a direct function of their consciousness. "Millions of years back there must have been some adaptive advantage to knowing that what was communicated was true," Scile said to me, last time we'd hypothesised this history. "Selection for a mind that could only express that." woke in their third instar suddenly fluent, Language a direct function of their consciousness. "Millions of years back there must have been some adaptive advantage to knowing that what was communicated was true," Scile said to me, last time we'd hypothesised this history. "Selection for a mind that could only express that."

"The evolution of trust . . ." I started to say.

"There's no need for trust, this way," he interrupted. Chance, struggle, failure, survival, a Darwinian chaos of instinctive grammar, the drives of a big-brained animal in a hard environment, the selection out of traits, had made a race of pure truth-tellers. "This Language is miraculous," Scile had said. I was somehow repulsed by it, in fact. It was astonis.h.i.+ng, given what Language needs to do, that the Ariekei had survived. That, I decided, was what Scile must have meant, so I agreed.

If evolution was morality they would be unable to hear lies, too, like two-thirds of the fabular monkeys, but it's more random and beautiful, so that was only the case for those few who managed to speak them, of their own little untruths. Unbacked by signifieds, the lies of Language were just noises to their own liar. Biology's lazy: if mouths speak truth, why should ears discriminate between it and its opposite? When what was spoken was, definitionally, what was? And by this hole in adaptation, though or because they were not built to say them, the Hosts could could understand lies. And either believe them-belief being a meaningless given-or, where the falsity was ostentatious and the point, experience them as some giddying impossible, the said unthinkable. understand lies. And either believe them-belief being a meaningless given-or, where the falsity was ostentatious and the point, experience them as some giddying impossible, the said unthinkable.

It's me who's monomaniacal, here: it's unfair to insinuate that all Hosts cared about was Language, but I can't fail to do so. This is a true story I'm telling, but I am telling it, and that entails certain things. So: the Hosts cared about everything, but Language most of all.

RADICAL AND cussed, cussed,[image] got that lie out into the world, a vomit of phonemes, against its own mind. got that lie out into the world, a vomit of phonemes, against its own mind.

The public were rapturous. We'd witnessed a rare performance. I was delighted. Amba.s.sador ArnOld was astonished. Ha.s.ser was bemused. Valdik and Scile were aghast.

Latterday, 8

KEDIS AND S SHUR'ASI were being escorted to the Emba.s.sy. The newscasts' little vespcams saw them. were being escorted to the Emba.s.sy. The newscasts' little vespcams saw them.

Midlevel Staff gathered troikas and quads from the Kedis community, a few Shur'asi think-captains. Vehicles arced over our roofs, antennas and the girders of our construction, over the white smoke from our chimneys. One shot recurred on the bulletins: a young Staff member swatting at the cam through which we saw. He must have been very tense to be so unprofessional.

The newscasts, voice and text, were flummoxed. Perhaps to most locals there'd been no sense of crisis until this ingathering of our exots. The pods that took them to the Amba.s.sadorial explanations flocked with birds, and fist-sized cams that rose and fell among them.

Beyond Emba.s.sytown, the oddness of angles and movements that had touched the city seemed to be spreading.

I BUZZED BUZZED Ehrsul, RanDolph, Simmon, but could get through to no one. After a hesitation I tried Wyatt, but he didn't answer either. Ehrsul, RanDolph, Simmon, but could get through to no one. After a hesitation I tried Wyatt, but he didn't answer either.

My handset still contained Ha.s.ser's number, and Valdik's, and several other similes'. It had been a long time. I considered calling one. What does it matter now? What does it matter now? I thought, but I didn't do it. I thought, but I didn't do it.

I'm sure I wasn't the only one doing so, but I'd begun to prepare, for whatever it was. I was copying what data I thought precious, hiding treasured objects, packing essentials into a shoulder bag. I'd always been fascinated at how my body ran things sometimes. While I felt like I was agonising, my limbs did what was needed.

Night would come without my noticing, and the aeoli-breath was still cool. Then at this crucial change-moment I remember there were night-bird noises and the gibbering of local animals. It wasn't yet so late there was no traffic. I wasn't tired at all. It was hard to make sense of the shots from Emba.s.sytown that I was watching. The newsware was still processing. A human commentator said, "We're not sure what . . . we . . . we're seeing something from the city . . . ah . . . movement from . . ."

The figures in cam-view were Ariekei. The Ariekei were moving. On my screen and through my window, I saw corvids frantic in several directions in the air. I heard things. I was already leaning out of my house and I saw their source. The Hosts were coming out of their city into Emba.s.sytown.

I RAN TO RAN TO the interzone between Emba.s.sytown and the city. Lights came on as people woke to the noise, but though I was joined by more and more blinking citizens I didn't feel part of anything. I pa.s.sed under light globes whispering where moths touched them. Below arches I'd known all my life, and, tasting the thinning air, I knew I was only a street or two from the edge of the city. I was in Beckon Street, which swept downhill out of our enclave. the interzone between Emba.s.sytown and the city. Lights came on as people woke to the noise, but though I was joined by more and more blinking citizens I didn't feel part of anything. I pa.s.sed under light globes whispering where moths touched them. Below arches I'd known all my life, and, tasting the thinning air, I knew I was only a street or two from the edge of the city. I was in Beckon Street, which swept downhill out of our enclave.

It was an old part of Emba.s.sytown. There were plaster griffins at the edges of the eaves. Not far away, our architecture was overcome, the ivy that tugged it smothered by fronds of fleshmatter and Ariekene business. The biorigging probed plastone and brick in a rill of skin.

The Hosts filled the road, jostling each other with odd motion. A single Host had grace but en ma.s.se they were a herd, in slow stampede. I'd never seen so many. I could hear the slide of their armour, the tap-tapping of thousands of their feet. Zelles scuttled.

As they came into the human reach the streetlamps and the colours of our displays made them a psychedelia. Rumpled women and men in nightclothes lined the walkways, so the Ariekei entered Emba.s.sytown with us either side as if to greet them, as if this were a parade. Cameras darted overhead, little busybodies.

There were Hosts in all their sentient stages, from the newly conscious to those about to slip into mindlessness. Hundreds of fanwings fluttered, and I wanted to be above looking down at that, a camouflage of shuddering colours. They pa.s.sed me, I followed them.

Many Terre watching could understand Language, but of course none of us could speak it. Some couldn't restrain asking in Anglo-Ubiq: "What are you doing?" "Where are you going?" We trailed the Ariekei north, climbing the incline toward the Emba.s.sy, on the roadways and verges, crabgra.s.s and our debris. Constables had arrived. They waved their arms as if moving us on, as if they were protecting our aging walls. They said things that had no meaning at all: "Come on now!" or "Move away there!"

Human children had come to stare. I saw them play Amba.s.sador, dueting nonsense noises and nodding wisely as if the Ariekei were responding. The Hosts took us a coiled route, ama.s.sing onlookers, cats and altfoxes bolting before the aliens. We came past the ruins.

Several Amba.s.sadors-RanDolph, MagDa, EdGar, I saw-emerged from the dark, constables and Staff around them. They shouted greetings, but the Hosts didn't pause or acknowledge them.

The Amba.s.sadors said, "[image]!" Stop. Wait. Stop.

Friends, they shouted, tell us what we can do, why are you here? tell us what we can do, why are you here? They retreated at the head of the Ariekene crowd, ignored. Someone had turned on the light of a church, as if it were Utuday, and its beam rotated overhead. The Hosts began to speak, to shout, each in their two voices. A cacophony at first, a mix of speech and sounds I think weren't speech, and out of that came a chant. Several words I didn't know, and one I did. They retreated at the head of the Ariekene crowd, ignored. Someone had turned on the light of a church, as if it were Utuday, and its beam rotated overhead. The Hosts began to speak, to shout, each in their two voices. A cacophony at first, a mix of speech and sounds I think weren't speech, and out of that came a chant. Several words I didn't know, and one I did.

"[image] . . . . . .[image] . . . . . .[image] . . ." . . ."

THE A ARIEKEI spread out before the black stone steps of the Emba.s.sy. I walked among them. The Hosts let me in, moving to accommodate me, glancing with eye-corals. Their spiky fibrous limbs were a thicket, their unbending flanks like polished plastic. My littleness was hidden, and un.o.bserved I watched the Amba.s.sadors panicking. " spread out before the black stone steps of the Emba.s.sy. I walked among them. The Hosts let me in, moving to accommodate me, glancing with eye-corals. Their spiky fibrous limbs were a thicket, their unbending flanks like polished plastic. My littleness was hidden, and un.o.bserved I watched the Amba.s.sadors panicking. "[image]," the Hosts kept saying. The people of Emba.s.sytown were saying it as best they could, too-"EzRa . . ." An undeliberate chant of the same word in two languages, the name.

JoaQuin and MayBel debated in furious whispers. Behind JasMin and ArnOld and MagDa I saw CalVin. They looked stricken. Staff were bickering too, and the constables around them looked close to panic, their carbines and geistguns dangerously at ready.

A Host stepped forward. "[image]," it said: I am I am[image] . .

One of those that had greeted EzRa, at the Arrival Ball.

h.e.l.lo,[image] said. said. We are here for We are here for[image] . Bring . Bring[image] . . And on. JoaQuin tried to speak, and MayBel, and the Host paid no attention. Others joined in with it, its demand. They came slowly forward, and it was impossible not to have a sense of their bigness, the sway of their sh.e.l.l-hard limbs. And on. JoaQuin tried to speak, and MayBel, and the Host paid no attention. Others joined in with it, its demand. They came slowly forward, and it was impossible not to have a sense of their bigness, the sway of their sh.e.l.l-hard limbs.

". . . we have no choice!" I heard Joa or Quin, and I thought it was to MayBel but saw with shock that it was to Quin or Joa. The Amba.s.sadors unhuddled, and stepping out from among them, coming forth as if in a conjuring trick, was EzRa.

EZ LOOKED anxious; Ra was cardsharp blank. As their colleagues parted for them Ez gave them a look of hatred. At the top of the stairs EzRa looked down at the congregation. anxious; Ra was cardsharp blank. As their colleagues parted for them Ez gave them a look of hatred. At the top of the stairs EzRa looked down at the congregation.

The Ariekei spread the tines of their antlers of eyes wide to take in the two men.

"[image]."

[image]spoke again. The Language-fluent among us meant what it said was quickly communicated.

EzRa, it said. Talk. Talk.

EzRa will speak to us or we will make it speak.

"You can't do this," someone from Staff or Amba.s.sadorial ranks shouted, and someone else answered, "What can can we do?" EzRa looked at each other and murmured a preparation. Ez sighed; Ra's face remained set. we do?" EzRa looked at each other and murmured a preparation. Ez sighed; Ra's face remained set.

Friends, they said. Ez said "curish" and Ra "loah"-friends. There was a snap of Ariekei thoraxes and limbs.

Friends, we thank you for this visit, EzRa said, and the Ariekei reeled, buffeting me. Friends, we thank you for this greeting Friends, we thank you for this greeting, EzRa said, and the ecstasy went on.

Ra continued to mutter occasionally but Ez had gone silent, so Language decomposed. The Hosts hubbubbed. Some flailed their giftwings and wrapped themselves within them, some entwined them with others'.

[image]shouted speak speak and and[image] spoke again. They said pleasantries, emptinesses, polite variants of spoke again. They said pleasantries, emptinesses, polite variants of h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo.

The Ariekei concentrated, as if asleep or digesting. Around the plaza I saw hundreds of Emba.s.sytowners, and soundless hovering cams.

"You stupid, stupid b.a.s.t.a.r.ds," someone said on the Emba.s.sy steps. The words were as ignored as the ivy. Everyone was looking at the Hosts. They were coming back from whatever it was that had happened to them.

Good, said one. It wasn't[image] . . Good. Good. It turned. It turned.[image] did so too. The Ariekei all turned back the way they had come. did so too. The Ariekei all turned back the way they had come.

"Wait! Wait!" It was MagDa. "Pharos!" "We have to . . ." One of them gestured to Ez and Ra: Don't speak again. Don't speak again. MagDa conferred and shouted in Language. MagDa conferred and shouted in Language. We must speak We must speak, they said.

Whether out of pity, courtesy, curiosity or whatever,[image] and other leaders, if that's what they were, of the gathering craned their eye-corals, twisted them backwards, looking behind them. I heard someone say, "Put it down, Officer. Christ, man . . ." and other leaders, if that's what they were, of the gathering craned their eye-corals, twisted them backwards, looking behind them. I heard someone say, "Put it down, Officer. Christ, man . . ."

We have much to discuss, MagDa said. Please join us. May we ask you to enter? Please join us. May we ask you to enter?

Constables and SecStaff came through the crowd. "Go." One stood before me. She held a stubby gun. She spoke to me rapidly, the same spiel she was giving everyone. "Please clear the streets. We're trying to bring this under control. Please."

Like everyone else, I obeyed my orders slowly. The Ariekei had arrived in strange coherence. Now most of them straggled away at random, leaving their scent and unique marks in the dirt. An urgent-faced boy in a constable's uniform whispered to me to please f.u.c.k off right now please f.u.c.k off right now, and I sped up a little. The Amba.s.sadors were trying to usher a few Hosts, those which had hesitated, into the Emba.s.sy. They didn't seem to be succeeding.

Part Three

LIKE AS NOT.

Formerly, 7

AFTER THE FESTIVAL, Scile disappeared. He wouldn't answer my buzzes, or did so only with terse comments and promises to return. Wherever he was he might be blanking me, but he had conferred, I suspected, with unlikely people. I was with Valdik and Shanita a day after the festival when Valdik was buzzed; when he'd answered he shut up and glanced at me with wide-open eyes. I had been abruptly sure that Scile was on the line.

After a couple of days my husband came back to our rooms and we had the fight that had been simmering for a long time. As with most such, the specifics are uninteresting and largely beside the point. He was surly, and p.i.s.sy, and made little quips about how I pa.s.sed my time, barbs at least as anxious as they were nasty, not that I was in the mood to care about that. I'd had enough of his recent predilection for gnomic p.r.o.nouncements, and his bad temper.

"Who do you think arranged that trip, Scile?" I shouted. He wouldn't answer or look at me, and I didn't put my hand on my hips or gesticulate, I folded my arms and leaned back and stared down my face at him like I had the first time I'd met him. "Some people might think thanks were in order, not days of this sulky s.h.i.+t. What makes you think you can behave like this? Where did you f.u.c.king go?"

He made some reference that made it clear he had been with Amba.s.sadors. I stopped at that, halfway through a riposte. What in immer? What in immer? I remember thinking. I remember thinking. Who b.u.g.g.e.rs off to high-level meetings when they're having a hissy fit? Who b.u.g.g.e.rs off to high-level meetings when they're having a hissy fit?

"Listen," Scile said. I could see him deciding something, trying hard to calm our altercation. "Listen, will you please listen." He waved a paper. "I know what it's trying to do. Surl Tesh-echer. It practises, and it preaches, to its coterie. This is what it's been saying." He didn't say how he'd got the transcript. "You, similes . . ." he said. "The Hosts aren't like us, okay: it's not exactly most of us who'd get excited to meet a . . . an adjectival phrase or a past participle or whatever. But it's no surprise some of them them would want to meet a simile. You help them think. Someone with reverence for Language would love that. would want to meet a simile. You help them think. Someone with reverence for Language would love that.

"But who'd want to lie lie? A punk, is who. Avice, listen. There are fans, and there are liars. And only Surl Tesh-echer and its friends are both." He smoothed out the paper. "Are you ready to listen to me? You think I've just been sitting in a cupboard for the good of my health? This is what it's been saying."

" 'BEFORE THE HUMANS came we didn't speak so much of certain things. Before the humans came we didn't speak so much. Before the humans came we didn't speak." He glanced at me. "We didn't walk on our wings. We didn't walk. We didn't swallow earth. We didn't swallow." Scile was reading nervously, quickly. came we didn't speak so much of certain things. Before the humans came we didn't speak so much. Before the humans came we didn't speak." He glanced at me. "We didn't walk on our wings. We didn't walk. We didn't swallow earth. We didn't swallow." Scile was reading nervously, quickly.

" 'There's a Terre who swims with fishes, one who wore no clothes, one who ate what was given her, one who walks backwards. There's a rock that was broken and cemented together. I differ with myself then agree, like the rock that was broken and cemented together. I change my opinion. I'm like the rock that was broken and cemented together. I wasn't not like the rock that was broken and cemented together.

" 'I do what I always do, I'm like the Terre who swims with fishes. I'm not unlike that Terre. I'm very like it.

'I'm not water. I'm not water. I'm water.' "

No translations I'd ever seen of Host p.r.o.nouncements were properly comprehensible, but this read different. I realised a counter-intuitive affinity. For all its strangeness it sounded a little, a tiny bit, more like, less unlike Anglo-Ubiq than most Language did. It didn't have the usual precise and nuanced exactnesses.

"It's not like most compet.i.tors, trying to force out a lie," Scile said. "It's more systematic. It's training training itself into untruth. It's using these weird constructions so it can say something true, then interrupt itself, to lie." itself into untruth. It's using these weird constructions so it can say something true, then interrupt itself, to lie."

"It didn't perform most of these," I said.

"It's been practising," he said. "We've always known the Hosts need you, right? You and the rest of you. Like the split rock, like they need those two poor cats they st.i.tched into a bag. They need similes to say certain things, right? To think them. They need to make them in the world, so they can make the comparison."

"Yes. But . . ." I looked at the paper. I read over it.[image] was teaching itself to lie. was teaching itself to lie.

" 'I'm like the rock that was broken,' " Scile said, "then 'not not it.' It can't quite do it, but it's trying to go from 'I'm like like the rock' to 'I the rock' to 'I am am the rock.' See? Same comparative term, but different. Not a comparison anymore." the rock.' See? Same comparative term, but different. Not a comparison anymore."

He showed me old books in hard or virtua: Leezenberg, Lakoff, u-senHe, Ricoeur. I was used to his odd fascinations, they'd helped charm me ages ago. Now they and he made me uneasy.