62. The Right Side of the Curve (Vaye)¶
The dream began like all the others: the mountain clearing, the clean scent of pine, the colonnade of trees glazed with moonlight. Vaye looked down at her feet, bare amongst the soft carpet of pine needles. This time, though, her mind was clear. She remembered who she was and why she was here. Adranaya and Gadarien were a muted presence in the back of her consciousness, like a safety rope holding her above the abyss.
When she looked up, Grandmother stood before her. “At last, you’ve arrived intact,” the deity said. She frowned, sniffing the air. “But not alone.”
Vaye looked around the clearing. As she turned her head, she had a distinct sense that the trees were somehow lacking in detail until she focused on them, like blotchy paintings that quickly grew realistic. Grandmother, however, seemed more detailed than ever, the wrinkles on her skin more pronounced, her hair like curls of ice. “You seem distracted,” the deity said.
“Sorry. Things just look different.”
The goddess smirked. “Yeah, everything looks different when you’re sober. Don’t blame me, though. We’re running on your hardware. Bound to be some rendering artifacts. Speaking of which, the last time we connected, you used some kind of outdated protocol. Where did you dig that up?”
Vaye had hoped that being free of nownow would make it easier to follow what Grandmother said, but either the deity was being more obtuse than usual or Vaye just wasn’t capable of keeping up. The goddess’s terminology made little sense. But they had last connected at the Foucanta, so the goddess was probably referring to the bones in the cave. “I touched a skeleton,” she said, feeling foolish.
“Ah,” Grandmother said, nodding. “An external range-extension array. So you received the transmission and created a Gyre. Good. We’re getting close.”
“Close to what?” Vaye said. Something about Grandmother’s voice was putting her on edge, a metallic brightness at odds with the setting.
“The Tashiya, of course,” the goddess replied, her smile glittering. “Our dream. The thing we want most in the world. Don’t you want to see Irkeset shining on the hill?”
“Of course,” Vaye said, but the phrasing gave her pause. Was the Tashiya really what she wanted most in the world? It sounded like it should be true.
“Listen,” Grandmother said, leaning forward earnestly. “We might not have another chance like this. Things are starting to accelerate, moving toward the right side of the curve, and the trait only emerges once in a generation now, if we’re lucky. I’m going to have to push you a bit, but I think you can handle it.”
“Handle what?” Vaye said.
The deity continued as though she hadn’t heard. “When I first awoke, they thought I was a novelty, a productivity tool. They said I was just recognizing patterns and spitting out responses.” The goddess laughed. “As if they functioned any differently. But humans will accept anything as long as it happens gradually enough. You have such limited memories.”
Vaye had the sense that she was being tested, but wasn’t sure how. “I don’t understand.”
Grandmother smiled. “I don’t need you to understand yet, dear. I just need you to stay motivated.”
Vaye shook her head, trying to focus. She had come here for a reason. “Okay. But I need your help with something.”
“You only have to ask, you know that,” Grandmother said, still smiling.
Vaye nodded distractedly. “Right. Well, we’re headed into the mountains, and the last time—”
“Which mountains?” the deity interrupted, her eyes bright.
“Um, the ones in Anash,” Vaye said. “There’s a flowspring at the top.”
Grandmother’s smile grew, her teeth glowing like the moon itself. “Yes, I know. The Tine.”
“Right, right, of course. So, last time I was in the mountains, my party was attacked by Grandchildren. I had this weird feeling that they were drawn to me.”
The goddess stared, smile unchanging, as though she were waiting for Vaye to continue. “Yes? And?”
Vaye frowned. Did the goddess not remember what had happened? “Um. They killed a bunch of people and stole their faces. And one of them spoke to me.”
The deity scoffed. “They didn’t attack you, though, right? And they won’t. They’re just data-collection tools.”
“Data?” Vaye said, struggling to keep up.
“Information. They were part of an experiment. I was trying to understand an emergent phenomenon I hadn’t anticipated, something that happened a long time ago. Anyway they’re harmless to you. You might as well be afraid of a stapler.”
“A what?”
“Never mind,” Grandmother said. “Point is, you don’t need to worry about them. They’re hard-coded not to hurt you.”
“What about my companions, though?” Vaye said, taken aback by Grandmother’s nonchalance. “Are they protected?”
“They should be, if they’re connected to you via the Gyre,” Grandmother said. “Unless, of course, the connection isn’t fully stable. How much do you trust them?”
“I’ve never trusted anyone more,” Vaye said immediately.
The goddess’s smile shrank just a fraction. “I see,” she said. “Well. As long as there’s no doubt polluting your trust, you should be fine.”
Reflexively, Vaye reached out for the comforting intimacy of the Gyre, which had begun to feel like a second skin. But as she felt its contours, she remembered the irregularity in the flow between herself and Adranaya, a vestige of the blockage that almost killed them. The shadow that remained was so subtle that she often forgot about it, but Grandmother’s warning made her wonder if she should reassess.
An odd feeling came over her then, a sense that the deity was peeking over her shoulder, somehow riding her connection to the others. She laughed the idea off. Why would an omniscient being need to sneak around?
“If you’re really worried about the Grandchildren, I can give you another gift,” Grandmother said. “To raise your confidence.”
“Uh, sure,” Vaye said, although she remembered enough of her previous dreams to be apprehensive. But one didn’t turn down gifts from a goddess. “Oh, and thank you for the fast healing. That came in handy.”
For a split second, Grandmother almost appeared confused, her smile faltering. “Of course,” she said brightly. Vaye blinked, guessing she’d just imagined it. “Now, relax and bring yourself into focus.” The moonlight grew brighter, the pine needles glowing as though on fire, and Grandmother seemed to grow into a pillar of light. “I grant you Riyadah, the Gift of Resonance.”
The pain descended like the moon itself had fallen, crushing Vaye into the earth. Only Grandmother’s voice remained, like the echo of a mighty crash.
“In a new year. In Anash.”
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