The Fresco by Sheri S. Tepper Page A

might imply that the three amorphous forms could be the well-known trialur—frailty, futility, and forgetfulness—seeking to overturn the urns of knowledge, this reading reinforced by Kasiwees’ assassination which certainly upset the fount of learning. Since the curator’s interpretation took no account of the identity of the three amorphous beings, I preferred an interpretation which identified them. And the things being assaulted or overturned were just as much urns as they were wine jars, for all one could see was shadowy shapes with a kind of yellow haze around them. Having heard all my short life of the teachings of the Fresco, I was amazed at how impenetrable the depictions actually were.
    â€œTell me what someone is thinking,” demanded the curator.
    Without thinking, I blurted out that the forms were very difficult to analyze, what with all the soot, and ended with, “So it would seem we would gain better appreciation of thegreatness of Canthorel if the Fresco were to be cleaned.” Or course, it didn’t come out that way, precisely, not at age twelve. It was a good deal more prolix and less pertinent, but the curator got the idea.
    Ai actually smiled at me. “I’m glad someone said that. Now that someone has said it, someone should put it out of mind. The Fresco of Canthorel is too sacred to run the risk of altering in any respect. We know we do not actually see the pictures as Canthorel painted them, but we have generations of observations written down in the sacred books, including the observations of the revered Glumshalak, who saw the work when it was first done. Thus, building upon tradition, we come to a proper understanding.”
    Ai smiled again, a kindly smile that looked so well rehearsed I thought ai must often use it for effect. I did what was expected. I bowed. I assented. And thus was my fate sealed, for it was not long thereafter that the selectors told me of their decision. I was to be an athyco, a nudge, a meddler. The House of the Fresco was to confine the next decades of my life during which I was to help formulate and enforce those rules by which our people live. Then, if I lived long enough, I would work with the other races in the Confederation. And if I lived still longer, I would be sent to apply those rules on other worlds, to other beings, in order to assist their ascent into wisdom.
    The next bit is unpleasant to remember or recount. I was given certain substances to eat and drink. Certain of my physical attributes shrank away to nothing, and other parts swelled with urgency. I was given exercises to do, all of which were uncomfortable and some of which were actually painful. When the pain and discomfort faded, I was given, as all selectees are given, certain biological substances to increase my euphoria at duty completed, to assure tranquility and balance in my tasks, for all the years to come. There was then what might be called a convalescence, a settling down under the care of my nootch, who displayed ker usual patience. I was not an easy person to care for at that time, for I found myself prey to numerous resentments that only time served to ameliorate. Then, at last, in the arm-clump of myfamily, I celebrated my thirteenth year, the end of my childhood. It was autumn again. My year had been two actual years, and this lengthy time betokened a certain grave propriety. As a birthday gift, I was given the proper clothing of an athyco: the white gown, the blue apron and hood. After the celebration, I was referred to for the first time as ai, and I was escorted upward and given into the hands of the curator.
    A year later, dear Benita, in the sanctuary of the Fresco, one celebrated one’s first birthday as a person.

6
benita
    TUESDAY
    After leaving the White House, the limousine driver offered to drop Benita back at the hotel, or anyplace else she’d like. Having breakfast in her hotel room had been unusually pleasant, and the idea of