“And the Geck won’t interfere,” said Garal. “It would be a potentially serious breach of the treaty. And that means that I can’t do anything. It also means you’re safe here. And if your mother is even a half-decent parent, she’ll want you to stay safe.”
“But see, listen,” insisted Ingray. “The Omkem wanted to be able to hold the First Assembly hostage, so they could control the system gates. I’m sure that’s what they were after. But they couldn’t do that, and now what they’ve got is the empty Assembly Chambers, the lareum, and some hostages. But why are they in the System Lareum to begin with?”
“It’s right next to the Assembly Chambers,” Garal pointed out.
“Right,” agreed Ingray. “But what I’m saying is, they’ve had to change their plans.” Garal frowned. “Don’t you see?” continued Ingray into eir incomprehension. “What’s in the lareum? All the things that tell us we’re Hwaean. The Rejection of Further Obligations to Tyr, which tells us that Hwae exists, and what it is. And what’s in the First Assembly Chambers, even after the representatives are evacuated?”
“Oh.” Understanding, finally, in Garal’s expression. “The Assembly Bell.” The bell was, in fact, a large ceramic bowl from the days when the First Assembly had been the only Assembly, and had only just begun meeting, only just begun to contemplate ending their indebtedness to Tyr. Every Hwaean knew that it had been used to pickle cabbage, before the sound of the spoon against its side had become the signal of the official start of Assembly business. “But, Ingray, it’s just a vestige. The Omkem don’t care about vestiges.”
“They do,” insisted Ingray. “What else was Zat looking for, in the parkland? And I know you said people outside Hwae laugh at our vestiges, but it wouldn’t need to be something important to them. Just important to us. And the First Assembly can’t legally meet without the Assembly Bell. It’s not the same as having control of the Assembly itself, but it’s something. And now they’re in this and can’t go back, the Omkem probably at least want to have something.”
“The Rejection is certainly a forgery,” said Garal. “You know that by now. The Assembly Bell …” E hesitated. “The Assembly Bell is from the right time period, and yes, the first Assembly meetings were small and somewhat makeshift, and it wouldn’t surprise me if someone banged a spoon against a cabbage-pickling crock to bring those meetings to order. But, Ingray, besides the Assembly Bell, have you ever seen an actual crock for pickling cabbage?”
“No,” admitted Ingray. “But I don’t see what …”
“They’re not shaped like that,” said Garal. “They mostly have straight sides. Or mouths smaller than the container itself. The idea is to seal off the cabbage, right? It won’t ferment right in the air. So either the story about pickling cabbage isn’t true, or the Assembly Bell isn’t the actual original Assembly Bell.”
“But it’s the Assembly Bell now,” insisted Ingray. “And I guess if something happened to it the First Assembly would find some replacement. Just like if anything happened to the Rejection of Obligations that’s in the lareum, that wouldn’t mean Hwae would suddenly not exist. But the Omkem aren’t here to make us not exist, they’re not interested in invading. They just want to make the First Assembly do what they want. And if they’ve taken all the things that make the First Assembly the First Assembly …”
“To most Hwaeans, at least,” agreed Garal. “I see your point. But what difference will it make if you’re in there?”
Ingray took a breath. “So,” she said, and took another breath. “Maybe we could steal it back.”
“We.” Garal’s voice was even as ever, but Ingray heard a trace of bitterness. “You’ve forgotten that I’m Geck.”
“No, I haven’t. I just thought you could maybe give me some advice. Some suggestions.”
“You’ve also forgotten that I’m not actually a thief.” E pushed eir bowl of noodles aside.
“No, I know you’re not. But you know thieves, don’t you. When we met, you said you were a forger. You’re not, but the best kind of lie has some truth in it. You were talking about a real person. Someone you’d met in Compassionate Removal. You knew enough about em to know eir work when you saw it in Mama’s house. You’ve never been a forger but you learned things about forgery from the people you’ve known. You’ve never been a thief. But you know things. You can give me advice. It won’t break the treaty, we’re just talking over breakfast.” She picked up the cup Garal had set in front of her when she had first sat down. Took a sip. Tasted lukewarm salt water and made a face. “Ugh. Is this poick?”
“Like I said, I’m pretty sure it’s an acquired taste. And you’re right, I learned things in Compassionate Removal, but not anything that will help you. The people who pull off the kind of theft I was accused of—the kind of theft you’re proposing now—by and large they do it with overwhelming physical force. Which our own forces would have used by now if they thought it would work, and you don’t need me for advice about that sort of thing. Where a theft isn’t carried out by force, it’s an inside job, or else the people responsible for guarding the vestiges were manipulated in some way. It’s not like entertainments, where there are ancient alien artifacts with alarm-canceling powers, or elaborate plans.” E took a sip of eir own poick and grimaced. “Well, sometimes there are elaborate plans, but those almost always go wrong somewhere and everyone involved ends up under arrest.”
“I don’t want an elaborate plan then,” countered Ingray, in what she hoped was a calm and reasonable voice. She had wanted an elaborate plan. She had wanted assistance from Tyr. Or anyone who might give it. “Just one that works. And if I can’t do that, at least Mama and those children will be out of danger.”
“What does your nuncle Lak think about this potential plan of yours?”
“Are you kidding?” Ingray used her fingers to fish some noodles out of the bowl in front of her. “I haven’t said anything to em about it. E’d probably tell me not to do it.”
“The more I know your nuncle, the better I like em,” observed Garal.
“If I always consulted with Nuncle Lak, you’d still be in Compassionate Removal,” Ingray pointed out. Put the noodles in her mouth and immediately wished she hadn’t. She wasn’t sure she could eat at all, and the cold, soggy noodles weren’t remotely appetizing, but she made herself chew and swallow. “I’m glad you’re not.”
Garal sighed and closed eir eyes. “You’re going to do this anyway, aren’t you.”
“Yes,” Ingray said, managing to sound halfway certain of herself. “I am.”
16