Tales from Kalgachia - 19

For thirteen years since his plans for marriage had quietly enraged his fellow Perfecti, and as a condition of that marriage going ahead, Xantus Yastreb had been confined underground. Now at long last they had agreed to let him return to the surface, if only for a week.

As the time drew near he had found himself afflicted with agoraphobic anticipation, a knotting of the stomach at the mere thought of having nothing but a layer of atmosphere between him and the vast emptiness of the cosmos - like many Kalgachi he had adapted to life underground and the idea of going to the surface felt somehow out of order. But he was no more inclined to resist the oppurtunity than the Perfecti were to refuse him, for this journey was to fulfil the joyful duty of every decent Kalgachi parent: participation in the Hearth Week of his child's Urchagin, the initiatory camp which all Kalgachi children were expected to complete if they wanted to be considered remotely respectable in later life. After the mental terror of Yoke Week and the physical hardship of March Week, the camp's final Hearth Week was a period of decompression so leisurely and enjoyable as to be utopian, completing the camp's supercharged living allegory of Kalgchia's hard-won comforts. But all the generous meals, youth entertainment and luxurious accomodation would have been little comfort to the children whose experience in earlier weeks invariably afflicted them with a desperate homesickness, invoking a chorus of nightly weeping into bunk and sleeping bag pillows. The culminatory Hearth Week, therefore, was spent in the company of their visiting parents who would eventually convey them home at the week's end.

Xantus' daughter, Rubina, was no ordinary Urchagin participant. Not only was she the daughter of the Chairman of the Council of Perfecti - a fact which she had long since been drilled to keep secret - her mother, Ilessa, happened to be the Pedagogue General of Kalgachia and the architect of the Urchagin programme itself. At Xantus' insistence, Ilessa had managed to refrain from getting daily updates on Rubina's progress from camp staff. Her instructions, given with some reluctance, were that Rubina was to be treated no more kindly and no less roughly than any of the other assorted Kalgachi youths among whom she found herself. Anything less, as Xantus seemed to take sadistic pleasure in reminding Ilessa, would be an act of the most callous hypocrisy.

Less avoidable was the recognition of Ilessa by the senior staff of the Hearth Week camp, which she had often visited on inspection tours. Nor was the presence of Xantus any less disruptive; a combination of rumours about his role as steward of the Kalgachi state, those about Ilessa's marriage to one of the Perfecti, the fact that Rubina was entered into the Urchagin with her real Yastreb surname, and finally the lurking retinue of Laqi cossacks and plain-clothed Prefects who served as Xantus' bodyguards, led many of the assembled parents and staff to connect the dots as he and Ilessa made their polite introductions at the camp gates. Some even offered Xantus the Ketherist backward-bow of reverence and spoke effusively of the honour he bestowed in visiting the place. Among the crowd of parents led onto the camp playground, those of a less decorous persuasion threw constant glances of morbid curiosity at Xantus and Ilessa until the emergence of their children from the camp's cluster of dormitories finally diverted their attention.

The children themselves responded to the sight of their parents in different ways; from some came shrieks of joy, from some a sudden breakdown into tears. Others, so mentally torn from their childhood notions of normality by the events of the preceding two weeks, considered their families to be the inhabitants of some closed and distant chapter of their lives and were reluctant to meet them again, acting with outright irritability when they finally did.

The crimson-haired figure of Rubina, emerging from the gaggle of children with the typical subtle glide in her step, appeared not to have changed until Xantus noted her face. It was cooler, sterner, more determined than before, yet at the same time subtler and more inscrutable - the hint of some otherwordly guiding spirit which had occasionally flashed in her eyes now seemed have a greater hold over her. She walked up to her parents in characteristic silence, her eyes regarding them with what appeared to be mild curiosity as if they were the ones who had undergone some transformation.

"Beanyface!" Chirped Ilessa, stepping forward to embrace Rubina. "Well done, honey. I'm so proud of you."

Rubina did not reciprocate the hug. "Mama," came her quiet but clipped voice, "Please. People are looking."

"Oh you," said Ilessa, stepping back again. "There's me thinking the Urchagin would have brought you out of your shell a bit. If you're still get embarrassed from a mother's hug I'll have to put you through it again!" Her smirk in confirmation of the joke was not reciprocated either.

"That is not funny," said Rubina. She turned to Xantus. "Hello Papa," she said.

"Hello little Beenie," said Xantus, the sight of the quietly self-assured girl causing a prideful lump in his throat. "How was it?"

"It was," said Rubina in a high octave, shrugging.

"Chatty as ever," chuckled Xantus. "Never mind. I'm sure your Mama will get all the details from the camp coordina-" He stopped at the sight of Ilessa who was already stood some distance away, engaged in an animated discussion with the camp coordinator. Xantus threw up his hands. "Well I know you don't like crowds of chattering kids," he said. "The Garden knows you've had to put up with them enough already." He jerked his head toward a gap in the crowd, leading to an empty section of pathway between the camp buildings. "Shall we take a walk?"

Rubina followed him away from the crowd, looking back over her shoulder as she did so. "They're not so bad," she said.

"Really?" said Xantus. "Did you make any friends?"

"No."

"Did you make any enemies?"

"No."

"Did you collaborate on Yoke Week?"

"No!" Rubina said this with an offended hiss.

"Do you want me to stop asking questions?"

Rubina was silent, but Xantus caught the hint of a fleeting smile on her stony face. It instantly dropped as she remembered something and looked directly at him:

"How did Ogny get on?"

"Ogny?" said Xantus. "Ah yes..." Rubina's best friend - her only friend, in fact - was a blind Froyalanish girl with obsidian spheres in the place of eyes who was due to go on her Urchagin at the same time as Rubina but had been placed in the previous intake due to a strict rule about not going with existing friends or acquaintances. It had been the subject of a rare tantrum on Rubina's part, directed at her parents who had refused to intervene to place the two girls together. Xantus had seen the report on Ogny's Urchagin, on which the ink had barely dried before which Ilessa plucked it out of the DEO archives for scrutiny. Now Xantus recalled the parts he had read while peering over Ilessa's shoulder. "...they said she did remarkably well. Especially on Yoke Week. It's a common thing with Froyalaners apparently, having experienced the real thing in Shireroth and all. It probably helps that she couldn't see the replica uniforms, though... she might have gotten flashbacks otherwise."

"How did she get around?" said Rubina. "You know I'm still angry at Mama for not giving her a guide."

"A couple of the better-bred kids helped her out," said Xantus. "It's just as well. The guards confiscated her whisker-cane on day two."

"Unforgivable!" hissed Rubina.

"They're supposed to do unforgivable things, Beenie. That's what the Urchagin is about. If it's any consolation, they're not like that in real life. Their provocations are meant to bring out the best in people, like the ones who helped Ogny. Did you ever need help these past two weeks?"

"No. I was the one helping."

"What did you help with?"

"Stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Stuff."

The shriek of Ilessa came from behind them. "Goldie!"

Xantus turned to see her running up the path toward him. "What's up?" he said.

At the sight of Rubina, Ilessa ran up to her instead . "What were you thinking!?" she yelled in the girl's face, her own visage a tempest of rage. "You could have killed him! You know it's all a show! I told you! Why did you have to go and do that!?"

"Do what?" said Xantus.

Ilessa's head whipped round as if it were spring-loaded. "I just got done talking to the Yoke Week coordinator," she growled. "It turns out Rubina attacked one of their staff with a sharpened stick! He's still in hospital... two blood transfusions, a collapsed lung and he's blinded in one eye for life! The coordinator said if the other guards hadn't dragged her away, she would have straight up murdered him!" She glared back at her daughter who was looking sheepishly at the ground. "Do you realise the position this puts me in, Rubina!? You've endangered the whole Urchagin programme! How am I supposed to recruit new camp staff when..."

"Lessie, Lessie," said Xantus, shaking his head and trying to calm down Ilessa's flailing arms. "I'm sure it was a misunderstanding. Look, I'll handle it... why don't you go and see where our accomodation is for this week? I'll have a word with..."

"Accomodation!?" shrieked Ilessa. "We're not staying! We're going home right now! All three of us!"

"Whoa, whoa!" said Xantus. "Are you saying Beenie shouldn't get her Urchaginka? Do you really want to hold her life back like that?"

"She moves with the Perfecti already! It's not like she'll need it to advance herself!"

Xantus looked over his shoulder at the distant crowd. "Lessie, for the Garden's sake, keep your voice down... listen, it's not about career prospects. It's about awkward questions later in life. If there's one thing Beenie doesn't like, it's awkward questions. You know that. Besides, even Yoke Week collaborators get their badge. You said it yourself... it's not about how the kids conducted themselves, it's about how they survived and learned lessons. You can drag Beenie over the coals later, but she's come this far. Let her finish."

The lavender-hued skin of Ilessa's face rippled with iridescent waves, a sign Xantus well knew to be a sign of seething rage among certain Deep Singers of her generation. "Ughhh!" she snarled. "Try talking some sense into her then. I give up!" With this she wheeled around and stomped back up the path, emitting a succession of stifled sobs.

Xantus sighed and looked at Rubina who had not moved an inch from her sullen pose. "You know your Mama's very proud of the Urchagin programme," he said, "and the people in it. She's obviously very upset by what you did."

Rubina mumbled something.

"Speak up Beenie," said Xantus. "I can't hear you."

"That was the stuff," muttered Rubina.

"What stuff?"

"The stuff I was helping with..."

Xantus allowed a silence to draw out the rest of Rubina's story. Sure enough, she began to mumble again:

"The guard was picking on one of the smaller boys. Little David. For days. David didn't even do anything to deserve it. I don't know why they picked on him. Then... he told me he was going to kill himself. So I tried to help."

"Oy," Xantus uttered a Bergburgism. "Well, why did you have to stab the guard so many times?"

"Why are you worried about him and not about David?"

The counter-question threw Xantus off balance for a moment, and he decided to counter it with another. "Well is David okay now?"

"He's fine now," said Rubina. "He made it through Underkeep Day and March Week. I don't want him to get in trouble for what I did."

"He won't get in trouble," said Xantus. "I'm just a little worried about your self-control, Beenie. It's uncharacteristic." In truth he began to tingle with another surge of pride.

"I had to do something, Papa. I had to."

"I know," said Xantus, laying his hand on her shoulder. "Listen," he said. "You know you're not in the wrong. I know you're not in the wrong. If you go down and speak of it to our occluded brethren, they'll tell you you're not in the wrong. But for your Mama's sake I think you should apologise to her for making her so upset. Then we can put it all behind us and carry on with Hearth Week. This is supposed to be the happy part of the Urchagin."

"But why must I apologise if I did nothing wrong?"

"You don't have to mean it. Just pretend you're a Lywaller... they say sorry for everything."

"But I'm not a Lywaller, Papa. I won't do it. I won't say sorry. I won't lie to Mama like that." Her voice reverted to a whisper and the beginnings of tears glistened in the corners of her yellow eyes. "I won't do it, Papa..."

A snort of dry amusement escaped Xantus' nostrils and he ruffled Rubina's hair. "I knew you wouldn't," he said. "A Yastreb never apologises. Look, I'll talk to Mama about the situation with David. She probably doesn't even know... sounds like the guards kept quiet about overcooking their methods and tried to throw you under the bus. But nobody's going to do that to my little Beenie."

"But they'll do it to other people if you let them carry on," said Rubina, "Mama said they were trained to prevent suicides. But if I hadn't done... the thing... after little David was trapped in that corner by himself, he..." Rubina began to sniffle and a tear finally escaped down her cheek.

"Beenie," said Xantus. "You don't have to worry about them. You wait until your Mama hears what's really happened. Those guards are briefed to impose equal misery on all non-collaborators... but if this bunch piled it all onto one kid, your Mama will do far worse to them than you ever could."

"What if Mama doesn't believe me?"

"Were there witnesses?"

"To what?"

"To this David kid getting all the harrassment,"

Rubina nodded. "Everyone saw it."

"But... you were the only one to do something about it?"

Rubina nodded again.

"Okay," said Xantus with a smile as he pulled Rubina close to him. "Okay..."

His voice momentarily cracked as he looked away to conceal two tears of his own, instantly evaporated by his natural body temperature and rising as steam into the cold mountain air.