Crow of the Ocean - EPILOGUE

 The following is an epilogue to 'Crow of the Ocean', a book I have written on the train to and from army over the course of my final year of service. This epilogue is in no way mandatory for understanding the story and its themes. It might even occlude some of them! Nevertheless, I felt the ending a bit abrupt. Enjoy.

CROW OF THE OCEAN

EPILOGUE

It was just as Anneli had feared; her grandmother had demanded she account for herself. Previous occasions when this had occurred had seldom been pleasant. She had been questioned about Cantiza’s virtues as a companion, she had been grilled over her disinterest in the sciences, and she had been scolded about her obsession with celebrity poets. She’d ably acquitted herself on these past encounters, or at least so she thought: her grandmother had always conceded some vital point, had admitted that Anneli’s perspective and actions were, if not quite correct, at the very least defensible. And still, despite such concessions, Anneli had always left such confrontations burdened with some additional task. She shuddered to imagine what such a task might be this time, for in truth Anneli herself couldn’t quite defend herself. It was no help at all that she did not quite understand what it was she must defend herself over: what had been her mistake? When had she acted rashly or foolishly, or in breach of that complex web of social obligation she was bound to?

She had been summoned to a small interior library, a room she’d never heard of or imagined. It was very much not what her grandmother had chosen upon previous occasions. Then she had selected grand halls of state, wide airy halls opulent in their ancient majesty, breathtaking in the enormity of their scale. They were the same halls wherein foreign ambassadors and civil authorities were greeted and acknowledged. Anneli had felt flattered and proud that she deserved the same treatment even back when she was just a prepubescent girl. But at that moment, she was glad for the more intimate setting.

She knocked twice then entered, safe in the knowledge that her grandmother would appreciate the promptness. When the queen set the hour, she expected to be greeted at just that hour. Anneli was proven correct, as she was met by the smiling visage of the empire’s queen. She was adorned in a crown of orange and a long dress of light blue. Her hands, safe in elegant golden gloves, held what seemed to be a report on the activity in Ricongeraka. Anneli couldn’t help but snicker at the amusing contrast between the queen’s blue attire and the dark green of the couches and wallpapers of the room. For her part, the queen ignored Anneli’s impertinence, only motioning her to take the seat across from her. It was only after Anneli sat down that she realized she was alone in the presence of her grandmother, and what’s more she was sitting. There was no need for further note upon the occasion, for it was understood that this was an initiation into the highest ranks of the royal family: she was no longer a child to be ordered around at the slightest whim. Now, she had a voice. Now, it was understood that she might have something to say.

“Well, Anneli dear, how did you like Ricongeraka? Nearly as much as Codan?” the queen asked sweetly, her tone and manner betraying nothing of sarcasm. Anneli's eyebrows shot up in astonishment at such an insipid question; as if she were comparing summer holidays and not year long tours of duty, as grueling and troublesome in their own manner as that of a common soldier. The queen blinked pointedly in response to Anneli's continued silence. “Oh it had its ups and downs” Anneli began warily. “Certainly there's beauty to the place, just as there is to any place, when you look hard enough” the queen’s lip twitched at Anneli's affected indifference. “I gather there were more downs than ups” the queen said as she tapped the report knowingly. Anneli could only shrug in mute acceptance of this undeniable truth. But just as the queen was about to make her next statement, Anneli interrupted with a strange remark. “There’s really nothing special about Ricongeraka, is there?” She waited a moment for the queen to permit her further explanation. She gave this with a curt nod. So prompted, Anneli went on. “There's nothing special about the sands or the waves, or the pungent smells of sea salt and limestone; anywhere in the empire, perhaps anywhere in and between two worlds, there's that which is unique. All those poets and all those playwrights who claim some deep affinity for the sandy shores and pristine coves, they're either naive or willfully ignorant; for there can be beauty and wonder wherever we choose to look”.

The queen listened attentively. She turned the report to a certain page, tapped at it knowingly, then veered the conversation down another avenue. “How do you assess your performance in regards to your stated missions?” she asked with utterly serious sincerity. Anneli couldn’t tell if she was expected to curl up in shame or bolt upright in defiance at such obvious hostility. She chose a middle ground, slumping backwards into the soft cushions of the couch. She leaned her head back as much as she could in such a position, leaving her eyes fixed firmly on the wall behind the queen. The queen tapped the report again. The sharpness of the sound had all the gravity and import of a judge’s gavel and an earthquake siren rolled into one. Feeling as cornered as she’d been back in Nakotebo, Anneli tried to give an honest accounting of herself. “In regards to my regular duties, I believe I’ve done as well as could be expected: I’ve kept up a regular correspondence with the youth of the empire. I am well aware of their hopes and their fears, their triumphs and disasters. I have even found myself in a position to monitor public sentiment among the discontent elites of the provinces!” Anneli began warily. She threw in the last sentence in hopes of enticing her grandmother into a discussion of Anneli’s accomplishments. The queen remained stolidly silent, a sharp intake of breath the only reaction Anneli got out of her. More boldly, Anneli went on. “I have performed my tour of duty to the highest standard! Shinag’s year in Amaseida was no more profitable or enlightening than my eight months in Nakotebo. With the greatest confidence, I can report to you the prevailing mood and sentiment of the common man in Nakotebo. I can tell you what he fears and dislikes about the House of Apogee! I can tell you of his living standards, of the food he eats, of the media he consumes. My Shanbila is passable if heavily accented, but my comprehension of the language is no worse than a Canper’s! And on the topic of Canpers, I am well acquainted with their duties and their lifestyles, their place in a Ricongerakan community, and their utility as intermediaries between Extabon and Ricongeraka” Anneli rattled off with growing confidence as the queen let each additional claim pass by unchallenged. Anneli had intended on pressing the advantage, but a slight twitch of the queen's index finger on the armrest indicated she wishes to speak. Upon later recollection of the interview, Anneli couldn't tell how she knew what this motion meant, yet in that moment it seemed as clearly obvious as letters of fire in the night sky. “And” the queen said “how would you judge a relationship such as you had with the late twenty seventh Canper of Nakotebo?” 

Anneli took her time before answering. The queen approved of this thoughtfulness, so much so that she ignored multiple alerts and interruptions by civil servants and automated systems. With every additional such dismissal, Anneli felt a growing pressure to justify the queen’s time spent on her. It slipped her mind that matters were in fact reversed, and that if anything, the queen was the one imposing on her. The queen’s precise phrasing seemed important to her; she had said “would” and “a relationship such as”. This left open the possibility that she could chastise such conduct in theory whilst defending her own without hypocrisy. The possibility that the queen spoke elliptically for the sake of dignity didn't occur to her. For all her pondering, she began speaking without having her thoughts fully formed. 

“The Canper was a fearful man. The fact of the matter was that he had a lot to fear! I blame no one for being stolid in the face of meekness. It is only natural to promise assurance when it is most needed, not when it is most accurate. The Canper was scared, and so I was confident. He was scared from the start! From the day I arrived in Nakotebo, he was obsequious. He wanted me to believe I was loved by Nakotebo. He wanted me to believe the town welcomed my presence and guidance. He took proper umbrage with my dislike for the culture and people” Anneli began explaining. She was cut off by the queen’s shocked yelp: “of course he did! Ricongeraka is proud of its hospitality, Nakotebo all the more so! You told him you hated his culture? The father forgive you!” Shocked at the vehemence in the queen's voice, Anneli's eyes shot right back to meet the queen’s. There, and in her face, she detected traces of sarcasm and mirth. Still, they were only traces, and it wouldn't do to treat anything the queen said as a laughing matter. Instead, she defended herself as if she believed the accusation entirely genuine. “I said no such thing! I will go so far as to say I made an effort to imply no such thing. But for all that Nakotebo is wealthy and connected, it is still insular in many ways. My dress and my habits, my interests and my speech, all these served to isolate me from my peers and surroundings. In their dislike for me, it really was only natural for me to dislike them, and by proxy Ricongeraka, in return. And the Canper knew all this. Which is why, far from hating me as a colonial overlord, he took to me as his closest confidant. He was not my friend, but we knew each other well” Anneli said. She was aware she was sugarcoating the truth, yet at the distance of even so few days and many more miles, the lies came easily to her lips. For they were not lies, not even by omission. All she said was strictly true, if somewhat counter to the spirit of certain matters. “And so, when the time came, I stood with him! I gave him the backbone to refuse scurrilous demands and to ignore idle threats” 

The queen was enjoying Anneli's sincere effort at portraying herself in a positive light. So much so that the wry amusement which had previously been little more than a twinkle in her eye was now a sardonic grin. It was with this good humor that she rebuked Anneli. “Ah, but they weren't idle threats, now were they?” the queen said sweetly. In horror, Anneli realized she had done precisely the opposite of what she had intended to do. The queen hammered this point home: “it’s all well and good to reassure those around us. Stolidness and confidence are the hallmarks of authority, royal or otherwise. Only…” she trailed off, leaving Anneli to fill in the details in whichever way she saw fit. But it seemed she had pushed too far, for Anneli didn't leap to her own defence. She just sat there, sweating profusely. The queen bent slightly in what was intended to be a conciliatory gesture. She went on with another line of questioning. “There were two confrontations before the final one at the royal astronomical research facility. Why did matters so rapidly deteriorate? Why could you not have stopped it?”

Again, Anneli was struck by the phrasing: ‘Why could you not have stopped it?’ At that moment it seemed the queen was clearing her of all faults. At that moment, the question seemed purely intellectual, an investigation into why Anneli was powerless to stop that which had occurred. Bolstered by this idea, Anneli answered with blissful good cheer. “I haven't been privy to all you've been apprised of” she began, gesturing to the report still held tightly in the queen's hands. “But I know enough to hazard a guess or two. I don't think matters deteriorated as quickly as it seems; true, only two weeks ago there was no public disturbance. But ever since I arrived, I noticed the murmurings. They weren't violent murmurings, not until the end, when they weren't murmurs at all! As you well know, grandmother dear, people like to complain. Always, people feel put upon in one way or another. Even here in Extabon, the wealthiest city in the world, people find themselves victims of one nefarious force or another. Prices are too high, wages are too low, there are too many foreigners and too many tourists; somehow, there are also too few tourists, and all the shops and museums are therefore going out of business. Truth be told, Nakotebo was the same! People complained that imperial culture was too stifling. They’d talk in vague terms about hypocrisy and propriety, then shake their head with smug satisfaction. And it was harmless! Empty nothings, so trivial that I barely noted them in letters to the family. It must've been the case that I was mistaken!” Anneli admitted. She almost shocked herself with such frank sincerity. She thought to recall her admission, but the queen leaned forward with such poised interest that Anneli found she could do nothing but oblige her grandmother’s obvious curiosity. “Even in those peaceful parts of the empire, there is a background grumble. In most cases, it is nothing more than idle whispers upon the wind. Extabon is a great example! In every conversation, people talk of taxation and debts, of infrastructure and public transportation. Do the people of Extabon know anything about these subjects? Are they experts in tax law, that they know to complain of the implementation or removal of a tariff? Are they civil engineers, to correct the decisions behind the rail network? As a whole, they are none of these things. But it's easy to complain, it's convenient to complain, it's popular to complain! Even if you criticize in a manner uninformed or ill thought out, who will leap out in defense of his government? No one! Even a politician will agree with the complaints if it's not his personal pet project discussed. And even if it is, he'll blame a civil servant over the implementation! These complaints aren't genuine, they don't come from any real grievance the people have with their government. Which is why, no matter what we do, approval ratings will always be dismal. 

So, whilst these grumblings pose no threat in and of themselves, they do form… kindling. So when something real occurs, or some troublemaker or revolutionary wants to stir the pot, there is somewhere to start. In Extabon, the complaints are economic in nature. In Ricongeraka, culture takes center stage” the queen mulled over Anneli's explanation. Anneli was heartened to feel herself taken seriously. This confidence was slightly undermined by the queen's next question: “If things are always so precarious, how can any government rule for any length of time?” 

“I just explained that!” Anneli answered angrily. “Disasters and troublemakers push matters over the edge!” Anneli glared at the queen. The queen glared right back. “You know something is missing! When does a day go by in Extabon without news of some disaster? Some important firm went bankrupt, some case of gross negligence or police corruption, some little oppression, some large injustice? Why was Nakotebo susceptible where Extabon is not? Believe you me, there are plenty of revolutionaries and foreign agents in every city from here to the ocean!” the queen said angrily. Angrily, but not impatiently. It was the kind of vehement anger to demand a stringent rebuttal. Anneli gave the best one she could. “Is Extabon left to its own devices? Or are there swarms of plain clothes imperial agents, ready to smother any outburst?” The queen sniffed indignantly at so simplistic an answer. She considered allowing Anneli to realize the deficiency herself before ultimately retorting without much delay. “You’d do better to bring up the new surveillance cameras, spread far and wide in Extabon and nowhere else! No, dear girl, Hetland has never been so ruthless. You know better than to imagine there is a police officer round every corner ready to suppress any hint of protest. There are protests all the time! Some big and orderly, some spontaneous and disruptive. Besides, are our security forces brainwashed into following our every order? Are they not susceptible to the same discontent that plagues every man on the street? Are they so well paid by us that they don’t care? Certainly not!” the queen paused a moment so that Anneli might interject. Wisely, she kept her piece. The queen nodded and went on. “It all comes back to those protests. It all comes back to those elections and representatives! Hetland is not some merchant republic on Life, where the vote was won by force. That idea is so ludicrously false it bears no thought. It is not even the case that the house of Apogee won the throne by compromising with some democratic faction. Had our founder wanted it so, we might’ve ruled as all previous houses across all kingdoms have ruled. And had we done so, we’d have met the same fate as all those other lineages! Our only recourse in the face of discontent would’ve been bloody suppression! We’d have been toppled by some civil war within a century or two!

Anneli, who is a revolutionary? Despite what they claim, they are not the poor, the downtrodden, the oppressed. The truly miserable haven’t the time or the ability to overthrow a distant government whos function and purpose is opaque. A revolutionary is someone who has time. Someone who has money. Someone who takes all those small discontents, those that most people disregard, to heart! And when someone like that sufferers some ill, he might believe he could fix the world, if only he were in charge. That, Anneli, is a revolutionary!” Anneli listened to the queen’s speech with growing dismay. The ideas were not new. Anneli had been told all this before, though in a more circumspect manner. But to hear it from the queen’s own mouth was tantamount to hearing a high priest profess agnosticism. The queen chuckled at Anneli’s open mouthed horror. She modulated her voice to more smoothing tones, but this did little to reassure Anneli. “Worse disasters than the debacle on Life occur every day in Extabon. And they occur to people with more power and deeper wells of discontent! Tell me Anneli, why then did Ricongeraka reach the brink of revolution?”

At this the queen more than paused; she sat cross legged across from Anneli in expectant majesty. When five minutes of such silence had passed, she added one final remark: “And why didn’t Ricongeraka take the plunge? How did you subdue the flame just as the brush caught fire?” 

These two questions, momentous as they were, shook Anneli out of her stupor. She spoke with all the confidence she had gathered back in Ricongeraka, though she knew it could do her little good. “I don’t know why Ricongeraka never joined Naktobeo in its rebellion. But in truth, I don’t really know why Nakotebo was so fractious to begin with! At the first sign of resistance, the movement shattered. More than that, at the first sign of confusion, the movement faltered! When those clothed men and women suddenly appeared within the crowd, they grew so confused they didn’t dare touch me. I think that’s what stopped them! Their comradely spirit was broken by so light a touch! And all the talk of Life, and the strange dissappearances, and the lost fortunes and everything else, none of it went very deep. That’s all I can imagine!” Anneli said, surprised to find herself nearly shouting with the buried emotion of it all. And now that she was shouting, she couldn’t stop. “And it has nothing to do with protests and elections and whatever else you babbled about! Those are release valves for discontent, I know it well! What kind of ingrate do you think I am that I don’t know these things at my age? Ricongeraka has elections! Nakotebo is represented in the council of local representatives! And in terms of population, that’s overrepresentation! There’s even the Sauhove, a local randomly chosen every year, to oversee the implementation of royal policy! And still, just one troublemaker, just one little financial hit, and they were ready to burn their own homes to the ground just to spite the house of Apogee! What could I possibly have done?” 

Anneli ought to have been mortified at having spoken so to the queen. Rage, however, more than steeled her nerves against any such fears of propriety. For her part, the queen rose from her seat to embrace Anneli. It was only as she was hugged that Anneli realized she had been shaking with rage. A moment or two of closeness, and the queen was back to her old imperial self. She waited for Anneli to calm down before imparting that one lesson she had intended on delivering when she had first summoned Anneli.

“Anneli, the point of elections is not that they are a release valve. The point of local representatives isn’t to allow for the varied voices of the empire to have their say. It is so that there is someone to talk to. I read the reports, and you did very well for yourself, truly you did! You never ran away, you never collapsed in fear! You gave three most rousing speeches! You showed those Ricongerakan bumpkins what’s what! But there was no one to hear what you had to say. And that is what I want you to learn, dear: the featherlight touch of a finger on the scale. The deniable nod of vague approval. A silent whisper in the right ear, and a beatific smile to complete the package. These are the tools of power! These are the pillars upon which the house of Apogee has built the greatest state in and of two worlds!

It’s funny, Anneli. We’ve worked so hard to stave off disaster, to build our garden of wonders that is the empire. And what is the result? That everyone is wealthier. That there are so many more potential revolutionaries! And for every new potential revolutionary, we must be that much more charming! That much more sophisticated! That much more suave and wealthy, so that the empire grows wealthier, and there are ever more potential troublemakers!”

The queen chuckled and rose, concluding the interview. It had not gone as Anneli had expected. Still upset, Anneli remained in her seat long after the queen had left to attend to other matters of state. She mulled over the queen’s words. The result of this extended deliberation was a sick feeling in Anneli’s stomach. For no matter how she sliced it, she could not help but conclude that her grandmother was wrong. That the queen of the empire, the most astute and brilliant person in two worlds, was wrong. For there had been no ear to whisper into! No courtier to impress with a nod! 

And besides, Ricongeraka was somehow more primal than Extabon. The distant crow of the ocean! The roaring parrot of the street! Her grandmother had forgotten where power came from. Surrounded by Extabon, she had forgotten there was a world outside it! A world outside the games of courtiers and court rooms, of civilized debates and organized protests. A world where the worst threats to law and order were disreputable magazines and only slightly more reputable members of the opposition parties. And in such a world, the queen was indeed the supreme authority.

And for all her expertise, she was still human. She was still from Extabon. “Nowhere is as the city!” is Extabon’s refrain. How right they are! Nowhere else is as the city! Nowhere else are the tools of power so pristine and subtle! These were the thoughts that echoed in her head as she rose to leave. They were not very happy thoughts. And yet, for once, they were the exact right ones to have.