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Authors: Robert Silverberg
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to the other.”
“A treaty,” Husathirn Mueri said again in wonder. “The Queen wants a treaty with us! I can’t believe it.”
“Nor can I,” said Hresh. “Almost too good to be true, isn’t it? Hard and fast boundaries. A no-trespass agreement. Everything clear, everything straightforward. In one stroke, an end to the fear of war with them that’s been dangling over us all our lives.”
“If we can trust them.”
“If we can trust them, yes.”
“Have they sent an emissary to the City of Yissou also, do you know?” Husathirn Mueri said.
“Yes. They’ve sent them to each of the Seven Cities, so it appears.”
Husathirn Mueri laughed. “I’d like to see King Salaman’s face. Out of nowhere, peace breaks out! Perpetual peace with the great insect enemy! What then becomes of the holy war of extermination that he’s been aching to launch against them for the past ten or twenty years?”
“Do you think Salaman was ever serious about a war with the hjjks?” Nialli Apuilana asked.
Husathirn Mueri looked at her. “What?”
“It’s all politics, isn’t it? So he can go on building his great wall higher and higher and higher. He keeps saying the hjjks are about to invade his city, but in fact the last time they did was before most of us were born. When Harruel was king up there, and Yissou had just been founded.”
He turned to Hresh. “She has a point. Despite all of Salaman’s fretting, there haven’t been any real hostilities between the hjjks and the People in years. They have their lands, and we have ours, and nothing worse than a few border skirmishes ever takes place. If all the treaty does is ratify the status quo, what meaning does it have? Or is it some kind of trap?”
“There are other conditions beside the one I spoke of,” Hresh said quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“That had best be saved for discussion in the Presidium, I think,” said Hresh. “Meanwhile we have a weary stranger here. Give the boy a place to stay, Husathirn Mueri. See if you can find something for him that he’s willing to eat. And make sure that his vermilion is cared for, also. He’s very worried about his vermilion.”
Husathirn Mueri signaled to one of the bailiffs, who came lumbering forward.
“No,” Nialli Apuilana said. Her voice was a harsh croak again, but she managed to make herself heard. “Not you.” She held out her hand to the stranger. “I’ll take charge of getting him his food. I know what kinds of things he eats, better than anyone else here. Don’t forget I’ve been in the Nest myself.” She glanced defiantly around the room. “Well? Any objections?” But no one spoke.
“Come,” she said to Kundalimon. “I’ll look after you.”
As it should be, she thought. How could I let anyone else? What do they know, any of them? But we are both of the Nest, you and I. We are both of the Nest.
Two
Masks of Several Sorts
A FTERWARD, WHEN HE IS alone again, Hresh closes his eyes and lets his soul rove forth, imagining it soaring in a dream-vision beyond the bounds of the city, far across the windy northern plains, into that unknown distant realm where the hordes of insect-folk scurry about within their immense subterranean tunnels. They are a total enigma to him. They are the mystery of mysteries. He sees the Queen, or what he imagines to be the Queen, that immense remote inscrutable monarch, lying somnolent in her heavily guarded chamber, stirring slowly while acolytes chant harsh clicking hjjk-songs of praise: the hjjk of hjjks, the great Queen. What hjjk-dreams of total world domination is she dreaming, even now? How will we ever learn, he wonders, what it is that those creatures want of us?
“Your abdication?” Minguil Komeilt cried, astonished. “Your abdication, lady? Who would dare? Let me take this paper to the captain of the guards! We’ll find the one who’s behind it and we’ll see to it that—”
“Peace, woman,” Taniane said. This fluttery outburst from
“A treaty,” Husathirn Mueri said again in wonder. “The Queen wants a treaty with us! I can’t believe it.”
“Nor can I,” said Hresh. “Almost too good to be true, isn’t it? Hard and fast boundaries. A no-trespass agreement. Everything clear, everything straightforward. In one stroke, an end to the fear of war with them that’s been dangling over us all our lives.”
“If we can trust them.”
“If we can trust them, yes.”
“Have they sent an emissary to the City of Yissou also, do you know?” Husathirn Mueri said.
“Yes. They’ve sent them to each of the Seven Cities, so it appears.”
Husathirn Mueri laughed. “I’d like to see King Salaman’s face. Out of nowhere, peace breaks out! Perpetual peace with the great insect enemy! What then becomes of the holy war of extermination that he’s been aching to launch against them for the past ten or twenty years?”
“Do you think Salaman was ever serious about a war with the hjjks?” Nialli Apuilana asked.
Husathirn Mueri looked at her. “What?”
“It’s all politics, isn’t it? So he can go on building his great wall higher and higher and higher. He keeps saying the hjjks are about to invade his city, but in fact the last time they did was before most of us were born. When Harruel was king up there, and Yissou had just been founded.”
He turned to Hresh. “She has a point. Despite all of Salaman’s fretting, there haven’t been any real hostilities between the hjjks and the People in years. They have their lands, and we have ours, and nothing worse than a few border skirmishes ever takes place. If all the treaty does is ratify the status quo, what meaning does it have? Or is it some kind of trap?”
“There are other conditions beside the one I spoke of,” Hresh said quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“That had best be saved for discussion in the Presidium, I think,” said Hresh. “Meanwhile we have a weary stranger here. Give the boy a place to stay, Husathirn Mueri. See if you can find something for him that he’s willing to eat. And make sure that his vermilion is cared for, also. He’s very worried about his vermilion.”
Husathirn Mueri signaled to one of the bailiffs, who came lumbering forward.
“No,” Nialli Apuilana said. Her voice was a harsh croak again, but she managed to make herself heard. “Not you.” She held out her hand to the stranger. “I’ll take charge of getting him his food. I know what kinds of things he eats, better than anyone else here. Don’t forget I’ve been in the Nest myself.” She glanced defiantly around the room. “Well? Any objections?” But no one spoke.
“Come,” she said to Kundalimon. “I’ll look after you.”
As it should be, she thought. How could I let anyone else? What do they know, any of them? But we are both of the Nest, you and I. We are both of the Nest.
Two
Masks of Several Sorts
A FTERWARD, WHEN HE IS alone again, Hresh closes his eyes and lets his soul rove forth, imagining it soaring in a dream-vision beyond the bounds of the city, far across the windy northern plains, into that unknown distant realm where the hordes of insect-folk scurry about within their immense subterranean tunnels. They are a total enigma to him. They are the mystery of mysteries. He sees the Queen, or what he imagines to be the Queen, that immense remote inscrutable monarch, lying somnolent in her heavily guarded chamber, stirring slowly while acolytes chant harsh clicking hjjk-songs of praise: the hjjk of hjjks, the great Queen. What hjjk-dreams of total world domination is she dreaming, even now? How will we ever learn, he wonders, what it is that those creatures want of us?
“Your abdication?” Minguil Komeilt cried, astonished. “Your abdication, lady? Who would dare? Let me take this paper to the captain of the guards! We’ll find the one who’s behind it and we’ll see to it that—”
“Peace, woman,” Taniane said. This fluttery outburst from
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