The Ancient Shadows

"Harm? You're overstating…"

"I am not. I saw you. I saw the guilt. And I saw guilt on my boy's face. There was never guilt there before, in all the years of his life."

"I've nothing to be ashamed of!" protested Miss Ming as the air car rose over her head. "You're reacting like some frustrated old maid. What's the matter, isn't Lord Jagged —?" The rest faded and they were on course again for Canaria.

Metal servants gently bathed the boy as soon as they arrived. Slowly the cosmetics disappeared from his skin, and Dafnish Armatuce looked at him with new eyes. She saw a pale boy, a boy who had become too fat; she saw lines of self-indulgence in his face; she detected signs of greed and arrogance in his defiant gaze. Had all this been put there by Miss Ming? No, she could not blame the silly woman. The fault was her own. Careful not to impose upon him the strictures which she imposed upon herself, she had allowed him to indulge appetites which, perhaps, she secretly wished to indulge. In the name of Love and Tolerance she, not Ming, had betrayed Trust.

"I have been unfair," she murmured as the robots wrapped him in towels. "I have not done my duty to you, Snuffles."

"You'll let me play with Miss Ming tomorrow, mama?"

She strove to see in him that virtue she had always cherished, but it was gone. Had it gone from her, too?

"No," she said quietly.

The boy became savage. "Mama! You must! She's my only friend!"

"She is no friend."

"She loves me. You do not!"

"You are that part of myself I am allowed to love," she said. "That is the way of the Armatuce. But perhaps you speak truth, perhaps I do not really love anything." She sighed and lowered her head. She had, she thought, become too used to crying. Now the tears threatened when they had no right to come.

He wheedled. "Then you will let me play with Miss Ming?"

"I must restore your character," she said firmly. "Miss Ming is banished."

"No!"

"My duty —"

"Your duty is to yourself, not to me. Let me go free!"

"You are myself. The only way in which I could give you freedom is to let you come to adult status…"

"Then do so. Give me my life-right."

"I ca

"You go. Leave me."

"That is impossible. If I were to perish, you would have no means of sustenance. Without me, you would die!"

"You are selfish, mama! We can never go back to Armatuce."

"Oh, Snuffles! Do you feel nothing for that part of you which is your mother?"

He shrugged. "Why don't you let me play with Miss Ming?"

"Because she will turn you into a copy of her fatuous, silly self."

"And you would rather I was a copy of a prude like you. Miss Ming is right. You should find yourself a friend and forget me. If I am doomed to remain a child, then at least let me spend my days with whom I choose!"

"You will sleep now, Snuffles. If you wish to continue this debate, we shall do so in the morning."

He sulked, but the argument, the effort of thinking in this way, had tired him. He allowed the robots to lead him off.

Dafnish Armatuce also was tired. Already she was debating the wisdom of allowing herself to react as she had done. No good was served by insulting the self-justifying Miss Ming; the boy lacked real understanding of the principles involved. She had been guilty of uncontrolled behaviour. She had failed, after all, to maintain her determination, her ideals. In Armatuce there would be no question of her next decision, she would have applied for adult status for her son and, if it had been granted, so settled the matter. But here…"

And was she justified in judging Miss Ming a worse influence than herself? Perhaps Miss Ming, in this world, prepared Snuffles for survival? But she could not support such an essentially cynical view. Miss Ming was disliked by all, renowned for her stupidity. Lord Jagged would make a better mentor; Sweet Orb Mace, indeed, would make a better mentor than Miss Ming.

All the old confusion swam back into her mind, and she regretted bitterly her misguided tolerance in allowing Miss Ming to influence the boy. But still she felt no conviction; still she wondered whether self-interest, loneliness — even jealousy — had dictated her actions. Never before had she known such turmoil of conscience.

That night the sleep of Dafnish Armatuce was again disturbed, and there were dreams, vague, prophetic and terrible, from which she woke into a reality scarcely less frightening. Before dawn she fell asleep again, dreaming of her husband and her co-workers in Armatuce. Did they condemn her? It seemed so.

She became aware, as she slept, that there was pressure on her legs. She tried to move them, but something blocked them. She opened her eyes, sought the obstruction, and saw that Miss Ming sat there. She was prim today. She wore black and blue; muted, apologetic colours. Her eyes were downcast. She twisted at a cuff.

"I came to apologize," said Miss Ming.

"There is no need." Her head ached; the muscles in her back were knotted. She rubbed her face. "It was my fault, not yours."

"I was carried away. It was so delightful, you see, for me. As a girl I had no chums."

"I understand. But," more gently, "you still intrude, Miss Ming."

"I know you, too, must be very lonely. Perhaps you resent the fact that your son has a friend in me. I don't mean to be rude, but I've thought it over lots. I feel I should speak out. You shouldn't be unkind to Snuffles."

"I have been. I shall not be in future."

Miss Ming frowned. "I thought of a way to help. It would give you more freedom to live your own life. And I'm sure Snuffles would be pleased…"

"I know what to do, Miss Ming."

"You wouldn't punish him! Surely!"

"There is no such thing as punishment in Armatuce. But I must strengthen his character."

A tear gleamed. Miss Ming let it fall. "It's all my fault. But we were good friends, Dafnish, just as you and I could be good friends, if you'd only…"

"I need no friends. I have Armatuce."

"You need me!" The woman lurched forward, making a clumsy attempt to embrace her. "You need me!"

The wail was pathetic and Dafnish Armatuce was moved to pity as she pushed Miss Ming by her shoulders until she had resumed her original position on the bed. "I do not, Miss Ming."

"The boy stands between us. If only you'd let him grow up normally!"

"Is that what you were trying to achieve?"

"No! We were both misguided. I sought to please you , don't you see? You're so proud, such an egotist. And this is what I get. Oh, yes, I was a fool."

"The customs of the Armatuce are such," said Dafnish evenly, "that special procedures must be taken before a child is allowed adult status. There is no waste in Armatuce."

"But this is not Armatuce." Miss Ming was sobbing violently. "You could be happy here, with me, if you'd only let me love you. I don't ask much. I don't expect love in return, not yet. But, in time…"

"The thought is revolting to me!"

"You suppress your normal emotions, that's all!"

She said gently: "I am an Armatuce. That means much to me. I should be obliged, Miss Ming, if…"

"I'm going!" The woman rose, dabbing at her eyes. "I could help. Doctor Volospion would help us both. I could…"

"Please, Miss Ming."

Miss Ming looked up imploringly. "Could I see Snuffles? One last time?"

Dafnish relented. "To say goodbye to the child? Yes. Perhaps you could help me —"

"Anything!"

"Tell him to remember his destiny. The destiny of an Armatuce."

"Will he understand?"

"I hope so."

"I'll help. I want to help."

"Thank you."

Miss Ming walked unsteadily from the room. Dafnish Armatuce heard her footsteps in the corridor, heard her enter Snuffles' chamber, heard the child's exclamation of pleasure. She drew a deep breath and let it leave her slowly. With considerable effort she got up, washed and dressed, judging, now, that Miss Ming had had a fair allotment of time with the boy.