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AT NIGHT SEA breezes would waft through fragrant forests and stir the
tender curtains of Bjork's Imperial bed-chamber. She had lessons with the court
astronomer, an offworlder named Aradshir. She trained her jewel-crusted telescope on the
Southern Cross while he discussed its meaning. <<Note how the constellation resembles a sailing ship, with one triangle forming the mast and sails, the other the hull and keel>> Aradshir said. <<It is none other than Xerxes, the transport of our ancestors, pictured in its mythical search for this mythical land. Note the two Pointers, symbolising the albatrosses who shepherded it on that holy voyage...>> <<The Pleiades are my favourite constellation>> Bjork said. <<Tell me about the Pleiades.>> <<It's where the angels live. It's the realm of Heaven!>> <<Let me see!>> Bjork squealed, training the telescope on the nebulous cluster. But Aradshir knocked it from her hands and slapped her hard in the face. <<No>> he said. <<Never look at the Pleiades again.>> Tears welled; Bjork cried out; she stamped her feet on the marble floor. <<But I want to see the angels, the golden streets of Heaven!>> <<Fool of a girl! did you think such wonders are open to public view. Even if you are the Imperial Heir. Because even you must obey the law.>> Bjork dried her eyes. <<Too many laws>> she said. Aradshir looked out to sea. <<It is as the scriptures have proscribed it>> he said.
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