‘Earth?’ The word sounds strange and foreign, but it plucks at some long-buried memory.
‘Underneath Arras are the remains of the former world – a world that is no longer inhabited,’ she tells me. ‘Few are left who remember the name Earth, and it’s dangerous for us to speak of it outside the safety of my studio. What you saw was the raw material that flows between our old home and Arras.’ She stares at the wall where the rift had been.
‘So that’s it?’ I ask. ‘We’ve created our world on top of another world, but no one knows it.’
Loricel smiles. ‘Oh no, there are some who know, Adelice, but they aren’t sharing the secret. The truth has a way of changing to suit the purpose of those in charge. They would deny what I’m telling you. The Guild has worked hard to make sure we forget about Earth. Only the highest officials know, and even those working the mines are lied to about exactly what they’re doing. I must be very careful what I say during my trips to visit them each year.’
‘Why keep it a secret?’
‘You would be surprised at the amount of discontent here. The number of plots the Guild quells each year. Arras is not as peaceful as they make the citizens believe. Some would want to leave Arras, and the Guild would never allow it.’
I think back to my parents, who clearly loathed the Guild and tried to protect me from it. I’d thought they were a bit paranoid until I came here, but now I wonder how much they knew. And Jost’s brother-in-law, who had mixed with rebels. Yes, there were people who knew, but I already understood why they kept it quiet.
‘But you have access to someone who knows the truth,’ Loricel continues.
‘Who?’
‘Me.’
‘Then what are they? Arras? Earth?’ I have a hundred more questions, but I shut my mouth to keep them from tumbling out all at once.
‘My predecessor was the second Creweler and though she knew the story better than I, much of it was lost in the passing from her own teacher. Some of it makes little sense to us now because we have lost this knowledge and with it the words and reality they describe,’ she explains.
‘On Earth, a war was fought to end all wars. Many of the regions, once called countries, became involved in the battle. One created a weapon so fearsome that it threatened to destroy everyone. They called this science, but it was merely the creation of men aimed at controlling the world. However, while one country readied to use this weapon, another scientist stepped forward with an alternative idea. Although he had worked on this bomb himself, he was more interested in time and the very matter that made up the world. He called the building blocks of this matter “elements”.’
‘Elements? Like the raw materials we use to work the weave?’
She nods. ‘He found a way to isolate the cellular makeup of his world – grass, trees, air, even animals – and to view it in relationship to the time that threaded through the space it was in. He knew if he could build a machine that showed how elements and time knit together, people could manipulate the world in unnatural ways. You’ve seen the drills that mine the raw materials, I assume.’
I nod, trying to call the images to mind, but my memory of them is vague. They were monstrous and powerful beasts that smoked and ground, but into what? The training images didn’t show that.
‘They mine elements from Earth that we manipulate into the weave. The four coventries rest over four mining sites, and Arras streams from the compounds. There is a raw weave under Arras; it keeps our time and environment separate. Because we exist on the periphery of the weave, we can view it on the machines in far greater detail and manipulate it without risk to the weave. The scientist who created the machines called it Crewel work. Spinsters came after the initial mantle and protective field were created. We helped initiate people into the weave much like the Department of Origins brings babies into Arras now.’
‘But how could they build Arras without Spinsters? Only women can work the looms.’ I shake my head, trying to force my thoughts into a rational explanation.
‘They groomed women for this duty, but I believe some men might be able to do the work,’ she says, cocking her eyebrow suggestively.
‘But why give such an important job to us?’ I ask, my annoyance showing in the sarcastic tone of my voice. ‘Why leave it to women?’
‘The Guild can control women better.’ Loricel sees me start to protest and holds her hand up to stop me. ‘Whether you like it or not, they do a damn good job of controlling us.’
Resentment toward the officials and Cormac and Maela and everyone who plays a part in this charade burns through me. ‘Who was this scientist from Earth?’
‘His name and the names of all those of Earth have passed from our collective memory. His real contribution was allowing for a peaceful resolution to the war.’
‘You’re telling me Arras doesn’t want to celebrate the genius of the man who created it?’ I ask, remembering the number of holidays reserved in honour of officials who have made much smaller contributions.
Loricel sighs, and gives me a frown. ‘Don’t be stupid, Adelice. You know they clean and alter. If they think information is too risky to Arras’s stability, they remove it. The Guild doesn’t want the citizenry to question the looms, and they especially don’t want people to know about Earth. My grandmother confided to me that a long time ago she took an oath of loyalty to Arras to keep our family safe. I didn’t realise until I came here and began apprenticing to the Creweler that it was really an oath of secrecy. It was the only way to survive the war they left behind – to promise to keep Arras’s secret. But that wasn’t enough for the Guild. I assisted in the cleaning of the information from the collective memory.’