Page 35 of The Enduring Universe
Instruments lay across her path, silvery and silent. No whirrs, no clicks, no hums. No sounds at all except for the quiet murmuring of the sungineers and other councilors at one end. Glass crunched underneath her feet as she stepped over a mess of optical fibers. Ahilya swept her eyes over the uneven ground, and picked up a shattered magnifying glass, then continued on, stopping only to retrieve some other wayward device. Sunlight streamed in through broken windows—windows which were hardly more than holes in the wall. From one of them, she could see the vriksh’s massive trunk, partly obscured by twisting foliage. She looked away from it, shuddering. She could not think of the cosmic creatures and her task to extract them now. She could not think of the price of her failure, and all that it had already unleashed on Irshar. No, today was about something else, and she forced herself to be useful here, to be attentive to her role as a councilor as she was expected to be.
The rest of the council did not pay her any mind. They clusteredby the giant inventions table on the other side of the lab. Sungineers made up the bulk of the gathering. Kiana in her mud-stained clothes, leaning on her cane. Umang, a citizen-scientist who worked closely with her, light reflecting on his glasses. Anusha and Ratan, who had been Senior Sungineers of other ashrams once but were willing to work under Kiana now. Compared to the sungineers Ahilya had seen in the Garden, this was a sorry number, but she was thankful they had stayed. More torches and glowglobes lay on the table between them. A soundless spark flickered in the devices, purple ricochets of light. The others murmured in confusion and wonder.
Architects collected around the sungineers, keeping a few steps away as though to not interfere. Chaiyya exchanged a look with Airav, who shrugged in a private communication Ahilya had gotten used to. Garima, who had once belonged to Yeikshar, watched the sungineers without expression. They had all debated Basav joining them, and in the end decided that no matter his expertise, his presence would be construed too antagonistic, even if he attempted to be subservient to Iravan. Irshar could not afford to derail the conversation today, the same way Ahilya could not afford to be distracted.
She paused as another architect strode into the chamber. Naila, the once-Maze Architect of Nakshar, now one of Ahilya’s closest friends, broke into a smile, seeing her. She was not a true part of the council, but she had been summoned from her regular duties at Irshar’s school. Naila circumvented the sungineers, and hurried over to Ahilya, enveloping her in a tight hug.
“I’ve missed you, Ahilya-ve,” she said grinning.
Ahilya hugged her back, a wry smile on her face. “I’ve missed you too. How many times must I ask you to drop the suffix?”
“Maybe when we finally destroy ourselves,” Naila said cheerfully.
Ahilya smothered a laugh and pulled away. The two of them studied each other, searching for signs of injury. Ahilya had no illusions about what she looked like, with lines under her eyes, her skin tired, grief and strain etched into her every movement. Yet Naila had never looked more beautiful.
With her hair cut short now, and laugh lines—laughlines—curling around her mouth, the younger woman looked like she was part of a thriving airborne ashram, not a citizen of this last refuge of humanity. She had even found kohl from somewhere to line her eyes. It was as though with extinction staring at all of them in the face, Naila had simply grown more confident. Is this what those belonging to Naila’s generation were embracing? To be free and irreverent and furious? Ahilya envied them. How she wished she could associate with them more. Perhaps that would remind her of who she was, and the possibilities of who she could be.
She had spent most of her time in the infirmary since meeting with Iravan. A steady stream of architects and non-architects had entered and exited the infirmary, still reeling from the effects of the Moment shattering, but until now Ahilya had not seen Naila. She had heard from her nurses that Naila was still teaching the children, trying to manage their fear, healing them in her own way so the infirmary did not become inundated. With sungineering no longer reliably working, neither of them had known how the other had fared. Ahilya had received reports about Irshar’s reconstruction, of food and medicines being brought to the council chambers for easy access and distribution, and of Chaiyya using Iravan’s architects to convert this last ashram into a refugee camp. Lying on her cot, Ahilya had not attempted to break the routine that had been prescribed to her by her healers and friends. She had no wish to fight them. She was theirs to command. It was the least she could do—even if it meant the caging of her freedom.
Still, old habits were hard to kill. Every night, while most of the city slept, Ahilya had crept out of the infirmary, walked to the vriksh, and pressed her hand against the trunk. She had vowed to the council she would do as they said. She had told Iravan she could extract the Virohi through the core tree. But in the secret honesty of a few stolen hours, Ahilya sought her fragile freedom, resting her forehead against the tree, breathing it in, searching for peace.
The council had asked her to be here today to indicate their control of her to Iravan. To show him they were ready to cooperate with him, and leash her as he undoubtedly wished. They wanted him to see that they appreciated him keeping his end of the bargain; that they were willing to keep their own. Would they put her in a compromising position, asking her to bend to him? Would he demand answers from her today? She had not told any of them that she’d seen the Virohi in the Etherium. She had not even looked for them again, too afraid to follow through with her appointed task.
Naila’s face softened, reading her. “He cannot object to our arrangements. No enemies here.”
Or only enemies here, Ahilya thought, but she allowed Naila to lead her back to the others. Nervousness rippled through the gathering, all of them looking up at the doorway every now and then, while they chatted quietly. Everyone here had once been friendly to Iravan, or at best, indifferent. Would he see through it? If he read the council’s control of her, would he be satisfied? Happy that Irshar finally supported him? Or would he be aghast, seeing her brought down in this way?
She could not know. The Iravan she had married would have made the council pay, but this man now could not be predicted. Once, Iravan had rebelled against his own caging by Nakshar’s council. He had found it difficult to navigate the council’s maneuveringswith their marriage, though he had tried to leash her too. At least this time, their marriage was no longer a factor. Ahilya tried not to stare at the debris swept away to the corners of the lab.
When he finally arrived, she was the first to notice.
Her husband did not come with any fanfare. One moment the doorway was silent and empty, the next he stood there in his black uniform and silver tattoos, his retinue surrounding him. She had not expected him to come alone, but was surprised by the people he’d picked.
Dhruv was anticipated; Irshar had specifically invited the Senior Sungineer of the Garden, to discuss the technology they were to inspect today. But Manav, an architect Iravan had excised, and Darsh, a child… The two of them flanked Iravan, dressed in similar black kurta and trousers. Manav, his gaze wandering, seemed unaware of his surroundings as he so often was, and Darsh stood, arms crossed, surveying all of them with disdain. The similarity between the three architects was unnerving. It was like seeing Iravan from his past and future. Manav’s skin was as dark as Iravan’s. Darsh had cut his hair like her husband’s. Had Iravan picked his retinue as deliberately as Irshar had? Why these two people?
Ahilya realized the murmurs in the solar lab had stopped. They were all watching Iravan and her, because in the end it came down to them. She felt the energy shift, the quiet tension of the chamber ratchetting into acute danger. She could sense the wariness from her council, at what she would do. If she would betray them now, rebelling against them, showing hostility toward Iravan. What words should she say to make them all comfortable? If she tried to hide her true feelings of humiliation and diminishment from Iravan, he would see through it instantly. He might grow angry with the council, for lying to him about their intentions. He might think they were concealing something, when the only thing thecouncil wished to conceal was their fear of him. If she made a misstep, it would regress Irshar and the Garden back into their cold war.
Should she start with his retinue instead of him—but no. What did those citizens of the Garden know of her, the woman who had brazenly walked in and commanded their king? To Darsh, she was simply another councilor of Nakshar who had once imprisoned him in a deathcage. To Dhruv… well, everyone knew where she stood with him now. This meeting had been long coming, the first of its kind since the creation of Irshar. They had all finally met to negotiate, under the excuse of sharing sungineering technology, but so much had happened between her and Iravan, beyond being representatives of their councils. The loss of their marriage, the fights they’d once had, the reconciliation, the war. All of it political, all of it so personal. She could not forget it. Yet if she and Iravan could not put aside their differences during this dialogue, there was no hope for their nations. She knew this.
Ahilya opened her mind and invited him into her forest.
She expected to see only his shadow, but to her surprise the forest bloomed in both their minds. It was as if in opening the door to her chamber to him once, she had given him access to the vriksh forever. They stood now on opposite ends of the solar lab, and they stood across a small clearing within the twilit Etherium, and Ahilya saw herself walk toward him, in the lab and in the vriksh, while he mirrored her movements. Her eyes couldn’t take it, the strangeness of the two visions, the synchronicity. She stumbled and it seemed to happen slowly, but Iravan was there, holding her up. Her head swam, and she clutched his sleeve, breathing hard.
“Let it go,” he said quietly. “Let it drop, Ahilya.”
“No,” she whispered. In the solar lab surrounded by her council, she had no power anymore, but the Etherium was still hers. That iswhy she had chosen to make this move. This was the only honesty she knew now.
But Iravan looked tormented, his brows creasing, as if ashamed himself that this is the way she had chosen to present herself. “Please,” he whispered back, and there was pain in his voice.Please, my love. You are not an architect. You were always better. Do not seek the Two Visions.
She jerked up to look at his face, both in the forest and in the lab. The both of them realized in the same instant that though he had not spoken out loud, she had heard him. She saw a swirl of emotion on his face, remorse that this was what they had come to, that she could not even speak with him except in the hidden forest of her Etherium; shock that shecouldspeak to him in the forest when such a thing was unheard of before; curiosity whether this forest was to become the only place of sincerity for them, separate from the rest of the world.
What did it mean that they had connected now so intimately in this unseen space when they were driven so far apart in real life? What did it mean about their marriage? Was there any hope of his return? Ahilya blinked, the questions hurtling to Iravan through the forest. He wrapped his arm around her body, tightening his hold.
“You do not need it,” he said, softly but slowly, as though to hear his own voice. “Let it go, Ahilya. I am here.”
He pulled away, gently in the Etherium, retreating into the shadows, and this time she obeyed.
Lucidity returned to her with a blaze of pain. Within the solar lab Iravan’s hand tightened over hers. He straightened her, pulling her close to him, his arm tucking hers under his so they were attached side by side, like they were once meant to be—a farce he was presenting, just like her civility to him, for the betterment oftheir two nations. A deep exhalation filled the chamber, telling her both their reactions were received well.
