Commitment Hour by James Alan Gardner Page A

I could be sure the cove would never let her take up with Bonnakkut.
    Then too, if Cappie wanted to be priestess, she’d have to Commit as a woman. That left me the option of Committing as a woman too, an easy way out of any “obligations” people might think I had toward Cappie. I’d often thought about Committing female—if nothing else, I wouldn’t have to work much. Dabble around the house, take care of my son Waggett…and make buckets of money playing violin on weekends. Of course, if I were a woman and Cappie the priestess, she’d think she could lord it over me; but I wouldn’t be the first woman to distance herself from the Mocking Priestess.
    Cappie was still waiting for my answer: did I want her to take over from Leeta. “If it’s what you want,” I said, “it’s okay with me.”
    She looked at me curiously for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you. Very generous.”
    Frankly, I expected more gratitude. Enthusiasm. Showering me with kisses of appreciation for giving her permission. Of course, then I’d shrug her off in annoyance, but I wanted her to make the gesture.

    We sat in silence for several minutes, side by side on the steps. The time was about two in the morning, but I felt too tired to turn and look at the clock on the Council Hall steeple. Would the Elders expect Cappie and me to go back to the marsh when this was all over? Or could we just head for the house we shared on the west side of town?
    Cappie must have been thinking along the same lines. “If they really want us to stay out here all night,” she muttered, “they could at least lend us a deck of cards. Leeta says most council meetings are five minutes of business followed by three hours of poker.”
    “That would be Leeta living up to the ‘mocking’ part of her job.”
    “But why are they taking so long to discuss this?” Cappie growled, glancing at the closed door behind us. “Ask anyone what to do if a Neut comes back from exile, and you’ll get a real short answer.”
    “It’s different if the Neut comes bearing gifts.” I told her how readily Bonnakkut took the Beretta and how he sucked up to Rashid thereafter. I may have exaggerated a bit; who said I had to cast Bonnakkut in a favorable light?
    By the time my story was done, Cappie was scowling fiercely. “So they’re in there right now,” she said, “and Rashid is handing out presents to the Elders.”
    “Probably,” I agreed.
    “But the Elders wouldn’t take bribes, would they?” She paused. “Well, Leeta wouldn’t.”
    “Depends what the bribe is,” I answered, in what I hoped was a worldly-wise voice. “Leeta might turn down gold…but suppose Rashid has some high-grade medicine from down south. Vaccines or antibiotics straight from the Spark Lords, something that could save lives for years to come; perhaps even get rid of those lumps in Leeta’s own breasts. And all Rashid wants is to watch the ceremonies tomorrow, then go away. Do you think Leeta would refuse a deal like that?”
    “Leeta wouldn’t take medicine just for herself,” Cappie said, “but for other people…for children…do you think Rashid really brought something like that?”
    “Rashid is a noble,” I replied. “At one point Leeta called him ‘Lord Rashid,’ like she recognized him or his name. If he’s an aristocrat from Feliss, he might have access to the medical supplies that the Sparks give to Governors. Or he might have enough money to afford something just as good as medicine. Seeds for a strain of wheat that can survive a spring snow. OldTech equipment for fishing or farming. Or a refrigeration machine for the perch-packing plant. My foster father said they had refrigeration machines in Feliss, OldTech inventions that ran off sunlight…”
    The Council Hall door swung open. Laughter ho-ho’d its way out to the porch. Cappie gave me a look that made it clear what she thought of people who laughed after taking bribes from Neuts.
    Three seconds later, Teggeree and