Page 44 of The Surviving Sky
Iravan shifted as the thick, knotted branch that formed the landing firmed under his wheelchair. Ahilya followed and the alcove closed in a whisk of bark. Their shared alcove had been grown in one of the highest boughs of the fig tree that formed Nakshar’s library. Three stories below, in the heart of the tree, the main hall appeared through gaps in the long leaves. Citizens clustered by the rock pool at the center, filling their clay jugs with crystal water and bringing them back to the smaller branches that were shaped as benches. Iravan considered descending through the fig tree’s depths, past the open-air hall and the public spaces of the lowermost tiers. Bharavi would have recommended it; Nakshar would see him and Ahilya together.
But then he glanced at his wife, at her trembling shoulders and unseeing eyes.
Iravan swallowed and took the branch that spiraled outside the tree.
Neither of them said a word. Ahilya brushed a strand of her long black hair behind an ear. Iravan breathed deeply as the rich scent of sandalwood wafted to him. Once, there had been comfort in that soft scent: home, security,Ahilya. Now a yearning seized him, and with it a challenge.
He had not thought his state on the wheelchair would move his wife intoforgiveness—sheknew him far too well for that. Yet her maneuver with the nomination had been so ingenious, it was almostdiabolical.
Nomination was not merely a test of the nominee; it was a test of the councilor. Power in the council came from fruitful decisions, from gambles one took that paid off in the longrun—itwas why Iravan had selected Naila to be his protégée; to have her rise to councilor from a Junior Architect would have given him more sway than an increment of small decisions. But nominating Ahilya or Dhruv? The two had contributed nothing to Nakshar’s survival. The nomination was doomed to fail; it would deplete his carefully built goodwill, irrevocably weaken his position.
Besides, was itright? A stable council directly impacted the solidity of a city. Councilors made most decisions together, either by majority vote or by unanimity. Ultimately, a council maintained a delicate alignment between the trajection of architects and the desires ofnon-architects—analignment that flight and survival itself depended on.
Which meant that more than anything else, the councilorship was aboutfit. Both Ahilya and Dhruv had shown only disdain for architects throughout their careers. The sungineer at least was a safer choice; sungineers by their very naturehadto work with architects. But Ahilya? Her entire research was to make architects redundant. Would it be fair to Nakshar to nominate either of them? Were they capable of hard decisions to keep the ashram in flight?
Iravan pressed a hand to his neck to assuage the sharp pain that had settled there. Under him, the massive, gnarled branch smoothened into a ramp, then grew creakily into wide steps for Ahilya. The design was old, inefficient. Why hadn’t the Disc Architects created permanent stairs? Or, better yet, replaced all stairs within the ashram with ramps? Nakshar lay flat, spanning acres. With so much space, inclines would be easy, and trajection could be conserved instead of being wasted back and forth on conversion. This was what it meant to be on the council: thinking of minute decisions that affected their world. Were Ahilya and Dhruv capable of factoring such things into the implications of their own research?
To Iravan’s surprise, Ahilya frowned at the branch and stepped beside him to share the ramp. She couldn’t know about matters of architecturalefficiency—perhaps,then, this action was a small sign of forgiveness. He studied her but said nothing. Together, they descended the tree’s thick limbs.
Finally, Iravan’s wheelchair sank into the earth.
They’d emerged onto the very playground their shared alcove overlooked. Wispy white clouds scudded above them. The playground was smaller than any in Nakshar’s latest designs. In a few hours, grass would cover the field, swings and bars would rise between trees, and slides spiral in gentle loops. The children would find it before the day was done, but the structure was a compromise, easy, nondescript, created so architects didn’t tire themselves to maintain its constellation lines. Iravan opened his mouth to tell Ahilya this, but she shambled next to him, her shoulders slumped, hair a dark curtain that hid her face. Her eyes had looked swollen in the library, the tear tracks clear on her cheeks.
Iravan stopped the wheelchair.What am I doing?he thought abruptly. The nomination, the investigation, even Nakshar’s architectural designs, those werehisgames.Sheneeded comfort. A stab of self-loathing cut through him, making him flinch. He lifted a hand toward her, but she kept walking.
Iravan sighed and scrubbed his face instead.
Ahead of him, Ahilya paused and turned slightly, her eyes dull.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “This is not how I wanted to do this. I can’t seem to get it right. With you. With us. If you don’t want to come,that’s—that’sfine. The judgement of the council will still be fair. They made a healbranch promise.” He clenched his fists so she wouldn’t see his trembling hands.If there are signs, any at all, another indication of a failed marriage, an Examination could happen. “Are things forever broken between us?”
Ahilya was silent for so long, turned slightly, gazing at him, that he was afraid she hadn’t heard him. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “You abandoned me for seven months.”
Iravan winced.“I…I was wrong to do that.It…shouldn’t have happened.”
The apology rang hollow. Iravan clutched the nape of his neck where a sharp pain had settled. For seven months, his anger had felt right, it had felthonest, yet Ahilya’s feelings had become collateral damage to an action born out of neither logic nor love. What kind of a man did that make him? What kind of ahusband? The two paths opened behind his brows again, ever present, relentless, one toward his wife and the other toward this hateful person he was revealing himself to be.
“You should have saved Oam before you saved me,” she said, her voice cracking.
“I wasn’t going to leave you to die, Ahilya.”
“This guilt. Nothing is worth it.”
“What of my guilt?”
“You should have left when I told you to,” she said.
“You should have returned when I asked you to,” he answered.
They stared at each other. For a second, he saw the both of them the way they had been once, laughing together on their wedding day. Ahilya’s eyes had danced as she’d placed the marriage garland around his neck. He had swept in and kissed her, claiming her for himself forever. They had been happy once; they had touched each other endlessly, their hands entwined, the constant nudges and embraces. His fingers twitched now, wanting to feel her, to comfort her, but her naked pain stabbed his heart, and Iravan broke the gaze first. He skimmed forward on his wheelchair and Ahilya started to walk again.
“Oam’s fathers,” he began, awkwardly.
She swallowed and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “They want to move to a different city. Kinshar or Reikshar.”
“I should have gone to them,” he said, his head hurting.
He had told Bharavi as much, during all the last week of recovery, when she had come to visit him, but the Senior Architect had settled herself on the edge of his bed in the sanctum and set her mouth in a hard line.
