apology—
when
you offer it and
when
I believe that you mean it. However, as a matter of fact, dear beloved breadbasket out of whom I sprang, you did not actually apologize to me at any point in our conversation. You only expressed the hope that I would accept an apology which in fact was never offered.
“I hope, Nafai, you will resume your studies and not allow these events in the city to disturb the normal routines of your life any further. You have a very keen mind, and there is no particular reason for you to let these things distract you from the honing of that mind.”
Thank you for the dollop of praise, Mother. You’ve told me that I’m childish, that I’m a slave of lust, and that my views are to be silenced, not listened to. You’ll pay serious attention to every word drooled from the mouthof that
witch
girl, but you start from the assumption that anything
I
say is worthless.
“Yes, Mother,” said Nafai. “But I’d rather not go back to class right now, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” she said. “I understand completely.”
Dear Oversoul, keep me from laughing.
“I can’t have you out wandering the streets again, Nafai, I’m sure you can understand that. Father’s vision has attracted enough attention that someone
will
say something that will make you angry, and I don’t want you fighting.”
So you’re worried about
me
fighting, Mother? Kindly remember who struck whom here on your portico today.
“Why not spend the day in the library, with Issib? He’ll be a good influence on you, I think—he’s always so calm.”
Issib, always calm? Poor Mother—she knows nothing at all about her own sons. Women never
do
understand men. Of course, men don’t understand women any better—but at least we don’t suffer from the delusion that we
do
.
“Yes, Mother. The library’s fine.”
She arose. “Then you must go there now. Keep the handkerchief, of course.”
She left the portico, not waiting to see if he obeyed.
He immediately got to his feet and walked around the screen, straight to the balustrade, and looked out over the Rift Valley.
There was no sign of the lake. A thick cloud filled the lower reaches of the valley, and since the valley walls seemed to grow steeper just before the fog began, for all he knew the lake might be invisible from this spot even without the fog.
All he could see from here was the white cloud and the deep, lush greens of the forest that lined the valley. Hereand there he could see smoke rising from a chimney, for there were women who lived on the valley slopes. Father’s housekeeper, Truzhnisha, was one of them. She kept a house in the district called West Shelf, one of the twelve districts of Basilica where only women were allowed to live or even enter. The Women’s Districts were far less populated than any of the twenty-four districts where men were allowed to live (though not own property, of course), yet on the City Council they wielded enormous power, since their representatives always voted as a bloc. Conservative, religious—no doubt those were the councilors who were most impressed by the fact that Luet had confirmed Father’s vision. If
they
agreed with Father on the war wagon issue, then it would take the votes of only six other councilors to create stalemate, and of seven councilors to take positive action against Gaballufix’s plans.
It was these same councilors from the Women’s Districts who, for thousands of years, had refused to allow any subdivision of the thickly populated Open Districts, or to give a council vote to any of the districts outside the walls, or to allow men to own property within the wall, or anything else that might tend to dilute or weaken the absolute rule of women in Basilica. Now, looking out over the secret valley, filled with rage against his mother, Nafai could hardly see how beautiful this place was, how rich with mystery and life; all he could see was how unbelievably few the houses were.
How do
when
you offer it and
when
I believe that you mean it. However, as a matter of fact, dear beloved breadbasket out of whom I sprang, you did not actually apologize to me at any point in our conversation. You only expressed the hope that I would accept an apology which in fact was never offered.
“I hope, Nafai, you will resume your studies and not allow these events in the city to disturb the normal routines of your life any further. You have a very keen mind, and there is no particular reason for you to let these things distract you from the honing of that mind.”
Thank you for the dollop of praise, Mother. You’ve told me that I’m childish, that I’m a slave of lust, and that my views are to be silenced, not listened to. You’ll pay serious attention to every word drooled from the mouthof that
witch
girl, but you start from the assumption that anything
I
say is worthless.
“Yes, Mother,” said Nafai. “But I’d rather not go back to class right now, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” she said. “I understand completely.”
Dear Oversoul, keep me from laughing.
“I can’t have you out wandering the streets again, Nafai, I’m sure you can understand that. Father’s vision has attracted enough attention that someone
will
say something that will make you angry, and I don’t want you fighting.”
So you’re worried about
me
fighting, Mother? Kindly remember who struck whom here on your portico today.
“Why not spend the day in the library, with Issib? He’ll be a good influence on you, I think—he’s always so calm.”
Issib, always calm? Poor Mother—she knows nothing at all about her own sons. Women never
do
understand men. Of course, men don’t understand women any better—but at least we don’t suffer from the delusion that we
do
.
“Yes, Mother. The library’s fine.”
She arose. “Then you must go there now. Keep the handkerchief, of course.”
She left the portico, not waiting to see if he obeyed.
He immediately got to his feet and walked around the screen, straight to the balustrade, and looked out over the Rift Valley.
There was no sign of the lake. A thick cloud filled the lower reaches of the valley, and since the valley walls seemed to grow steeper just before the fog began, for all he knew the lake might be invisible from this spot even without the fog.
All he could see from here was the white cloud and the deep, lush greens of the forest that lined the valley. Hereand there he could see smoke rising from a chimney, for there were women who lived on the valley slopes. Father’s housekeeper, Truzhnisha, was one of them. She kept a house in the district called West Shelf, one of the twelve districts of Basilica where only women were allowed to live or even enter. The Women’s Districts were far less populated than any of the twenty-four districts where men were allowed to live (though not own property, of course), yet on the City Council they wielded enormous power, since their representatives always voted as a bloc. Conservative, religious—no doubt those were the councilors who were most impressed by the fact that Luet had confirmed Father’s vision. If
they
agreed with Father on the war wagon issue, then it would take the votes of only six other councilors to create stalemate, and of seven councilors to take positive action against Gaballufix’s plans.
It was these same councilors from the Women’s Districts who, for thousands of years, had refused to allow any subdivision of the thickly populated Open Districts, or to give a council vote to any of the districts outside the walls, or to allow men to own property within the wall, or anything else that might tend to dilute or weaken the absolute rule of women in Basilica. Now, looking out over the secret valley, filled with rage against his mother, Nafai could hardly see how beautiful this place was, how rich with mystery and life; all he could see was how unbelievably few the houses were.
How do
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