The Surviving Sky, page 31
“There’s only one reason they’d summon the both of us.”
Ahilya knew what he meant. It would be to discuss the terms of their divorce. She froze, her heart beating rapidly in her chest, unable to move, but Iravan stood up as though it were nothing more than a straightforward occurrence.
“I suppose we go to it, Ahilya,” he said quietly, holding out his hand. “End what we started eleven years ago.”
She stared at him a long moment. Then Ahilya placed her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet. Iravan turned away, his jaw tightening as his fingers let go. Ahilya followed him out of the courtyard, the touch of him still lingering on her skin.
33
IRAVAN
Outside the sanctum, Iravan generated an elevator that took him and Ahilya to the upper levels of the temple to the council chambers. Ahilya hadn’t said a word since the summons. She stood next to him, her head bowed, her hands wrapped around herself, clutching her shawl.
A strange exhilaration rose within Iravan. He was on the precipice of a mountain, daring himself to leap into the abyss. In his mind’s eye, the two paths that had haunted him for so long glimmered. He was going to do it—step onto the second path, a path without the bindings of the ashram. He was going to see clearly for the first time. He had ignored that path for so long. No more.
A presence burned at the center of his forehead; it had appeared the instant Ahilya had thrown his rudra bead bracelet at him. Iravan recognized it now. The Resonance. He took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists. He had lost it all, Ahilya, Bharavi, his marriage and his position—but a freedom grew in him with the appearance of the silvery particle. He neither trajected nor entered the Moment, but the Resonance was waiting. He wished for the formalities to be over.
“What should I be expecting?” Ahilya asked softly.
He glanced at her. “Whoever received our papers from the council, they’ll try to talk us out of it. There has to be a period of separation, but they might waive that—considering how little time we’ve spent together in the last few months. Considering how we haven’t been intimate lately.”
A choked sound escaped Ahilya, midway through a laugh and a sob. “Is it normal for the councilor undergoing the proceedings to be advising their spouse?”
“No,” he said. “But you asked, and I know, so I can tell you. A divorce at this level—after so many years of marriage, it’s not easy. Architects marry for life. Our divorce will send a bad message. The only way to get through the councilors’ arguments is to be sure this is what we want.”
“And is it what you want, Iravan?” Ahilya whispered, clutching her shawl, not looking at him.
Iravan’s eyes widened in shock. The clarity of the second path faltered. He turned to face her.
“Don’t you?” he began, but the wall of their elevator creaked open, and Senior Sungineer Kiana stood waiting for them, no doubt to represent the council. Iravan fell silent, his mind reeling.
“Come with me,” Kiana said curtly.
Iravan exchanged an apprehensive look with Ahilya. That subtle indication of shared camaraderie took him aback as much as her question had. Her eyes stared into his, and he detected guilt and grief and fury. Ahilya tore her gaze away from his and followed Kiana. Iravan found himself walking again as well.
“Where are we going, Kiana?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“The council chambers—everyone is waiting.”
“Everyone?” Ahilya whispered.
“An intervention?” he said grimly at the same time. He grabbed the Senior Sungineer’s arm and turned her. “We’re not children, Kiana. You don’t need to make a production of this. End it here and now, and release us both. As councilor, you have the authority.”
Kiana gave him a hard look. “You mean your divorce? You signed it. But, you,” she said, her gaze taking in Ahilya, “did not.”
“You didn’t?” Iravan asked, staring at Ahilya. For a moment, rage, hope, and confusion filled his mind, removing the fiery presence of the Resonance from the center of his forehead. The second path disappeared. All he saw was Ahilya on the first.
“I—I don’t know anymore,” Ahilya stammered.
Her eyes dropped in misery. Iravan took a deep breath.
“I think we need to talk,” he said, turning back toward the elevator.
“You do,” Kiana said sharply, arresting his movement. “But not right now. Your papers reached the council—and I’ve been assigned to deal with it. It’s not uncommon to feel this after an Examination of Ecstasy or the death of a family member, and Bharavi was close to you both. So, you will talk, Ahilya and Iravan, and you will figure it out. But right now, you will learn to work together, because the ashram needs you both.”
She began walking again. Exchanging another look, Iravan and Ahilya followed her. Iravan noticed what he hadn’t before. Kiana no longer carried her cane. Instead, the Senior Sungineer wore her leg brace. Why? The device had always been uncomfortable to Kiana; she had disliked it, only worn it during times of upheaval in the ashram, when the construction was unreliable. Did this have anything to do with the damage Bharavi had wrought?
“What I did,” Iravan began, “with Bharavi—”
“We know what you did,” Kiana interrupted. “That’s architect business. You’ll answer to Chaiyya and Airav for that.”
Iravan’s jaw clenched. Of course. The pact he and Bharavi had made had hardly been an original one. Chaiyya and Airav must have known Iravan would execute Bharavi. It was what Bharavi would have wanted, but Chaiyya was a healer—she had never liked the idea of such pacts. Ahilya’s voice echoed in his head: You speak as though a life can just be erased, that it has no meaning, simply because of rebirth. How had such a monstrous death impacted Bharavi’s consciousness? How had it affected his own? Expert though he was, even Iravan could not know the imprint that action had left in his own depth memory.
“Naila spoke to Airav about your visit to the sanctum,” Kiana continued. She studied Ahilya. “I trust you will be silent about what you saw?”
His wife flinched in humiliation, then her chin rose, readying for a fight. Iravan’s own anger heightened at Kiana for presuming to speak to Ahilya this way while he stood right there.
“Kiana,” he growled. “Why aren’t you taking this more seriously? I broke the law—several times. You should be dismissing me. Exiling me.”
“You’re about to find out. This is why the council is meeting now.”
“You’re inviting me?” Ahilya asked. “To an official council meeting?”
“You and Dhruv made some significant discoveries,” Kiana answered. “Besides, as Iravan’s official nomination for the council seat, you have earned a place in today’s meeting.”
Ahilya drew back, shocked. Her gaze traveled to Iravan.
Iravan took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Nominating Ahilya had been his last action as a Senior Architect; he had expected to be dismissed after the sanctum. He’d done it to fulfill his end of the bargain, to give himself a clean slate before he walked the path of clarity, and he’d picked Ahilya because in the end, she was the obvious choice—intelligent, fierce, the kind of woman who could instantly see through an architect’s maneuverings. She was what Nakshar needed.
The consideration in her eyes angered him now. He could tell what she was thinking: if this were another game, if he’d said and done these things today to win her back. Rage you, he thought. What do you want? What do you want? He blinked, unsure if the question was for himself or for Ahilya.
Kiana reached the end of the corridor and tapped at one of her rudra bracelets. The bark slid open to reveal the council chamber.
The room looked much like before, though now the flowers were gone from the walls. A dozen people sat around the round mahogany table, casting each other anxious looks. The councilors sat in their regular spots, but more seats had grown next to them. Dhruv was next to Kiana; two other sungineers on either side of Laksiya. The others were architects: Naila, and two Maze Architects, a woman called Megha and another man, Gaurav, both of whom had been contenders for Iravan’s own council seat once. Why were they there? Was the council going to replace him after all? Iravan found that he did not care. Whatever this was, he wanted it to be over.
He made his way to his usual chair. He had expected Ahilya to make for the spare seat next to Dhruv, but she followed him unseeingly. She dropped next to him on Manav’s rosewood chair, staring at her hands. Iravan sat down just as heavily. She hadn’t signed the papers he had sent to her solarnote. Had she changed her mind after what she’d seen in the sanctum? Did he… want that? The Resonance flared in his mind, behind his brows. All he had to do was focus his attention on that burning sensation, and it would merge with him.
Laksiya cleared her throat. “Nakshar faces a problem of survival,” she said, without preamble. “The council has called all of you here today because you’ve noticed threads of the same problem. We can’t divulge any more information, so if you want no part of this, then leave now and we won’t bother you. But if you choose to stay, then you will have to take a healbranch vow of silence. Make your decision now.”
The others began to murmur and shift in their seats. Iravan found it hard to concentrate. He was very aware of Ahilya sitting next to him, her gaze downward in her lap. She filled his senses, her breathing, her scent, her shape. He wanted to reach out and shake her. He wanted to demand what she meant by changing her mind—if she had changed her mind. He wanted to kiss her and take her right here on the mahogany table in the council chambers. He wanted to leave her, never see her again.
Iravan swallowed. He extended his wrist like everyone else, barely registering the words of the vow he was making.
The healbranch vines retracted, and the assembled people sat up, once again looking at Laksiya. The Senior Sungineer nodded in satisfaction, then sat down, giving way to Airav.
The bald, bespectacled man rested his elbows on the table, but Iravan saw his hands shake. That, more than anything else so far, pulled him away from his distraction. Airav was the most steadfast man Iravan knew. For him to be perturbed… something terrible had happened.
“For those of you who don’t know,” Airav began, in his deep rumbling voice, “Senior Architect Iravan was put in charge of the investigation as to why the alarm did not work during the last flight. We have since learned that it was an effect of Senior Architect Bharavi’s Ecstasy.”
All eyes in the chamber swiveled to Iravan—all except Ahilya, who had gone unnaturally still. How had Airav known? Perhaps despite his skepticism, Airav had conducted his own investigation into the alarm. It would be very much like the man, to portray himself at his harshest yet secretly do his diligence. Iravan noticed now what he hadn’t before. None of the councilors wore the healbranch bracelets they had wrought for his investigation. He had been freed.
“During the course of the investigation,” Airav continued, “Senior Sungineer Kiana asked the solar lab to find out if the other ashrams had landed at all. As it happens, Dhruv here was able to contact nearly twenty sister ashrams.”
Dhruv cleared his throat as everyone’s gaze settled on him. “I—Yes, yes I did. Nakshar landed about two weeks ago. But—uh—none of the other ashrams registered a lull at all.”
A shocked silence greeted his words. Ahilya’s head snapped up; she stared at Dhruv, her mouth falling open.
“That’s not possible,” Maze Architect Megha said. “Landing is a choice, but the lull itself is a common climatic phenomenon. Magnaroot reacts in a specific manner at the watchpost, and that’s true of every ashram. How could the others not have registered it?”
“We know now,” Airav said, “that the magnaroot was being manipulated by Senior Architect Bharavi, who was in the throes of Ecstasy.”
The architects in the room blanched. Every one of them understood the implications of Airav’s words, finally understanding what Iravan had already known. To manipulate the magnaroot in such a manner, Bharavi had trajected the rudra tree itself.
“Do you mean to say,” Ahilya said, in a small voice, “that when we went out on my expedition, we were out during an earthrage?”
Airav met her gaze. “Yes, Ahilya-ve. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Iravan closed his eyes in a long, slow blink. He had made the connection when Bharavi had confessed her manipulations to him. She had told him as much—she had been trajecting the jungle through the deathcage. How much power had she had? How much had she tried to control herself while landing? If he had only paid more attention to the vigilance he ought to have been performing for her, would she have escaped Ecstasy? Would she be still alive? You speak as though a life can just be erased, that it has no meaning, simply because of rebirth.
Ahilya made a gagging sound in her throat. “The—the jungle was birthing itself. We saw that. How could that be, if we were in an earthrage from the very beginning?”
“We don’t fully understand Ecstasy, Ahilya-ve. All we know for certain is that it is incredible power, uncontrolled. It is not a far thought to imagine Bharavi trajecting and changing the very nature of the jungle in her Ecstasy. That’s likely why you saw it birth.”
“This explains why the ashram was so resistant to landing,” Naila said, frowning as the other architects nodded. “The ashram plants aren’t meant to land during an earthrage. It’s only during a lull that we’re supposed to land. Despite her trajection, the plants rebelled.”
“Why would she do that?” one of the sungineers murmured. “Was she trying to kill us all?”
“She was in Ecstasy,” Iravan said coldly, speaking for the first time. “She didn’t know what she was doing. She has paid for it already, don’t you think?”
Everyone stared at him. Iravan met their gaze, his eyes hard.
Airav cleared his throat. “Bharavi forced us to land, sabotaged the alarm, and trajected the jungle. However, the fact remains that without the false lull, this has now been the longest earthrage in recorded history, topping at two hundred and twenty-four days.”
This time, the silence stretched longer. Iravan watched as the unease grew in everyone’s faces.
“Exactly what is the concern here?” said the sungineer who had spoken before, a man with shoulder-length hair and thin glasses. “Are you saying we’re not equipped to fly for so long without a rest in the jungle?”
“You noticed it yourself, Umit,” Airav said. “You came to Laksiya with observations around how trajection was no longer powering sungineering equipment adequately.”
“Why is this happening?” another sungineer said, this a person with curious eyes and the lightest shade of brown skin Iravan had seen in the ashram. “Surely, we should be back at homeostasis. Isn’t that what shift duty does?”
“There are a number of reasons,” Airav said. “We wasted a lot of trajection with unnecessary landing and taking off. Bharavi’s Ecstasy and the damage she wrought weakened us further. But the real reason—and we have confirmed this with our sister ashrams—is that trajection is getting harder. It’s what Senior Architect Iravan suspected all along.”
Once again, all eyes flickered to Iravan. His knee jerked against his will. In Chaiyya and Airav’s gazes he detected the shadow of regret and mortification, but Iravan couldn’t bring himself to feel vindication or anger. Instead, absurdly, he felt running through him a sensation he only recognized from his youth: boredom. These questions were meaningless when compared to the only question he cared about—the identity of the Resonance.
“You must understand something,” Airav continued. “Trajection has not been confirmed to be harder by every architect. But enough people have reported it for it to be a concern for every sister ashram. Ultimately, it is all of a pattern. Earthrages are becoming longer and lulls shorter. And it’s affecting our trajection. It is becoming harder for most of us to construct even the simplest mazes.”
“I’m sorry,” Maze Architect Gaurav said, a man with a clear high voice. “But are earthrages truly getting longer? This seems like it has more to do with a difficulty in trajection than anything to do with the rages themselves.”
“They are,” Airav confirmed. “This earthrage is already the longest in our history—”
“But the last few were significantly shorter,” Gaurav said.
“It’s not an absolute increase,” Ahilya said, her voice soft. “Yes, there have been many quick rages, but over time, they’ve been getting longer. I have the numbers to prove it. Graphs, if you wish to see. These patterns emerge only after decades of study.”
Gaurav fell silent, his face thoughtful.
Dhruv leaned forward. “If I may,” he said, “I want to understand the practicalities of our situation. Even if the rages are getting longer and trajection harder, shouldn’t architects on shift duty allow us to fly?”
“In theory, yes,” Airav replied. “But the Maze Architects are tired. Their shifts have become longer, their breaks shorter. We don’t have enough architects to sustain this, least of all in our current luxurious architectural design. We’re making mistakes—costly mistakes. If we don’t find a solution, then soon we’ll have many more Ecstatics on our hands.”
This time, the silence had a heavier flavor, treacherous and aghast.
It was Ahilya who broke it. “What about the other ashrams? If there’s a universal cause for longer earthrages and shorter lulls, then they must be affected too.”
“They are,” Airav confirmed. “But Nakshar has been hit the worst because of our recent incidents. And I’m afraid there is more yet. Chaiyya and I estimate that we have only twelve weeks before the Disc’s trajection becomes so weak that Nakshar will quite literally plummet into the jungle. And it is only a matter of time before that happens to every ashram unless there is a true lull in the earthrage.”
To the credit of everyone present, no one uttered a cry at that pronouncement, though several people began wiping their glasses.
Airav let the silence breathe for a few more seconds before he spoke again.
