Now Maia felt something stronger, and knew well what name to use, if she dared admit it to herself. In Renna she had found a soul who knew kindness, who would not judge a girl unworthy, just because she was a lowly var. It hardly mattered that she hadn't rested eyes on the object of her fixation. Maia created a picture in her mind, of a savant or high civil servant from one of the faraway sophisticated cities on Landing Continent, which would explain Renna's stiff, somewhat aristocratic way of speaking in text. No doubt she came from a noble clan, but when Maia asked, all Renna said was
MY FAMILY MADE CLOCKS, BUT I
HAVEN'T SEEN THEM IN A WHILE
SEEM TO HAVE LOST TRACK OF TIME
Maia found it hard always to tell when Renna was joking or teasing, although clearly she never meant it in a mean way. Renna wasn't much more forthcoming about how she came to be a prisoner in this place.
THE SELLERS TOOK ADVANTAGE OF A LONELY TRAVELER
Bellers! The family Tizbe belonged to! The pleasure clan that did a profitable side business carrying goods and performing confidential services. So Maia and Renna had a common enemy! When she said as much, Renna agreed with what seemed reluctant sadness. Maia tried asking about "CY" and "GRVS," who must be Renna's clanmates or allies, but her fellow prisoner responded there were some things Maia was better off not knowing.
That did not prevent them from talking frequently about escape.
First they must work out their relative positions in the stone tower. Crawling into the stone casement, Maia craned her head around and saw a continuous row of slit windows like this one, presumably illuminating other storerooms, girdling the citadel's circumference five meters below the grand gallery of columned patios she had glimpsed on arrival, that first day. Comparing the positions of certain landmarks, they ascertained that Renna's window lay just around the bend, facing due east while Maia's looked southeastward. Turning in the opposite direction, Maia could just make out the gate-ramp of the unfinished sanctuary, forlorn and covered with prairie dust.
Maia was full of ideas. She told Renna of her experiments unraveling carpets, learning how to weave a rope. While approving her enthusiasm, Renna reminded Maia that the drop was much too far to trust a bundle of twine, amateurly wrapped by hand.
Looking at her handicraft, she was forced to admit Renna was probably right. Still, Maia continued spending part of each day unwinding lengths of tough fiber and retying them into a finger-width strand, trying to imitate by memory the weaving patterns used by sailors aboard the Wotan. It's something to keep busy, she thought. While Renna kept up her midnight attempts to radio for help, Maia wanted to contribute something, even as futile as winding string.
She was careful to hide all signs — of both ropemaking and talking to Renna — from her jailers. During meals, Maia told them how fascinated she was with the Game of Life, and how grateful to have been introduced to its world of intricacy. Their eyes glazed as she expected. All the Guels wanted was the comfort of routine. She happily let them have it.
So it came as a surprise when she heard the rattle of keys in the middle of one afternoon, hours before dinner-time. Maia barely managed to throw a rug over her work and stand up before the door swung open. On entering, the two Guel guards appeared tense, agitated. Maia saw why when a familiar figure stepped between them.
Tizbe Better! The former baggage-car assistant looked around the storeroom, hands folded behind her. An expression of faintly amused disgust crossed her young face as she perused the sweat-stained towel hanging by the cracked washbasin, and the covered chamber pot just beyond. Her nose wrinkled, as if meeting odors a coarse var could not be expected to notice.
Maia made herself stand tall. Go ahead and sneer, Tizbe. I've kept myself fit and civilized in here. Let's change places and see you do better!
Her defiance must have shown. Although Tizbe's amusement continued unabated, her expression did change. "Well, captivity doesn't seem to have hurt you, Maia. Not where it counts. You're positively blossoming."
"Go to Earth, Tizbe. Take your Jopland and Lerner friends with you."
The cloneling feigned a moue of shock. "Such language! Keep this up, and you'll be too rough for polite society."
Maia laughed curtly. "You can shove your polite—"
But Tizbe got the better of her again, simply by stifling a yawn and waving a hand vaguely in front of her. "Oh, not now, if you don't mind. It's been a hard ride and I have to leave bright and early. We'll see though. Before that, I might have a chance to drop in again and say goodbye."
Then, to Maia's shock, she turned to go. "But . . . aren't you here to—"
