The lobby of the Tet corporation building is tiled in gleaming pink marble. There's little traffic, for the time of day. Afternoon light is slanting through the high windows, painting specks of dust golden and casting long shadows.
In the center of the lobby, cordoned off by velvet ropes, is a small indoor garden, mostly consisting of ferns and dwarf palms.
To Zillah's eyes the words on it shift like the shape of a fountain, never the same words from second to second, always saying the same thing; it says
Good over evil, this is ever the will of God
and
Light over Dark, so sayeth the LORD always
and
Harmony over Discord, thus sings the Old Music
and the same thing in a dozen idioms and a dozen languages. And under it runs the song of the rose itself, which says yes and always and safe and loved in its uncountable voices; which says whatever sages say and fools, all's well.
It's not a story; it's not as linear as that, pouring out in a stream of image and memory and emotion. But the central image is clear -- River Tam's face, with a different face concealed underneath it: a dark young woman with purple hair and eyes.
Surprise, from Charles, and an echoing image: a tanned boy with black hair and dark eyes, with Charles' face beneath.
There's so much in the kythe, and some of it is wonderful and a great deal of it is terrifying, and the end of it is this -- standing here, where a friend stood, before the rose's music
No one takes much notice of them standing there. Not even today, with so much disarray still needing to be put into order, with anything out of the ordinary likely to be suspicious; the two strangers stand before the garden of the rose, lost (and found) in its song, and no one troubles them.
It's about twenty minutes before the elevator doors open, and Charlie comes out -- very slowly, and leaning heavily on Michael Copeland's arm.
Zillah doesn't look up, but she smiles. "She's here. I know it. Blessedness comes in the night and the day, and whither the wise heart knows."
(The rest of the line is as clear in Charles's mind as though she's spoken it aloud: And one has seen in the redness of wine / the Incorruptible Rose.)
She lifts her free hand, and gestures toward the elevator banks. "Oh, do not ask what is it."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-06-09 04:52 am (UTC)In the center of the lobby, cordoned off by velvet ropes, is a small indoor garden, mostly consisting of ferns and dwarf palms.
In the center of the garden is a rose.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-09 04:55 am (UTC)(blue eyes, blue eyes have the sight)
and suddenly luminous with tears.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-09 05:09 am (UTC)As they get closer, Charles' expression is becoming one of joy so strong it's almost pain. His hand is very tight around Zillah's.
Someone whose name means more joy once told Charles that roses burn with a purifying flame. This is a little like that. A little.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-09 11:41 pm (UTC)To Zillah's eyes the words on it shift like the shape of a fountain, never the same words from second to second, always saying the same thing; it says
Good over evil, this is ever the will of God
and
Light over Dark, so sayeth the LORD always
and
Harmony over Discord, thus sings the Old Music
and the same thing in a dozen idioms and a dozen languages. And under it runs the song of the rose itself, which says yes and always and safe and loved in its uncountable voices; which says whatever sages say and fools, all's well.
Tears are sliding unnoticed down her face.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-10 12:15 am (UTC)And the rose sings
(lords of todash, lords of over
lords of where and lords of when)
like a thousand choirs, like a unicorn
(all the roads that lead the rover
come from here, and back again)
as the galaxies and worlds spinning in it dance like farandolae.
This, it says, is real.
May wonders never cease.
(say alleluia, say amen)
no subject
Date: 2009-06-10 12:31 am (UTC)A sudden gasp, and fingers tightening on Charles's hand.
"She was here," whispers Zillah, her voice rising and cracking under one more burden of joy.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-10 12:33 am (UTC)"Who?"
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Date: 2009-06-10 01:28 am (UTC)Her smile trembles, but no less with joy.
"Wish by spirit and if by yes. Shantih, shantih, shantih."
no subject
Date: 2009-06-10 05:20 am (UTC)It doesn't matter. Zillah's joy is one more note in the song; that's what matters.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 03:31 am (UTC)She doesn't take her eyes from the rose (who could?), but nonetheless she's turning to him.
I'd show you. Will you see?
no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 03:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 04:04 am (UTC)(I know what you are)
(and yet a woman's powerful character / could keep a swallow to its first intent)
(I shall be good as new)
It's not a story; it's not as linear as that, pouring out in a stream of image and memory and emotion. But the central image is clear -- River Tam's face, with a different face concealed underneath it: a dark young woman with purple hair and eyes.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 04:40 am (UTC)There's so much in the kythe, and some of it is wonderful and a great deal of it is terrifying, and the end of it is this -- standing here, where a friend stood, before the rose's music
(that lovingness joins the music of the spheres)
and within it.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 02:54 am (UTC)It's about twenty minutes before the elevator doors open, and Charlie comes out -- very slowly, and leaning heavily on Michael Copeland's arm.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 03:02 am (UTC)"Zillah."
no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 03:21 am (UTC)(The rest of the line is as clear in Charles's mind as though she's spoken it aloud: And one has seen in the redness of wine / the Incorruptible Rose.)
She lifts her free hand, and gestures toward the elevator banks. "Oh, do not ask what is it."
no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 03:26 am (UTC)"Let us go and make our visit."
They turn to join Charlie, leaving the rose.
But it's not something that ever leaves you.