Twilight in Babylon by Suzanne Frank Page B

done.”
    “Why not?”
    Kalam looked at Ningal, a little bewildered. “Female humans don’t attend the Tablet House. Explain to her, sir. It’s just not done.”
    Ningal looked at her, and Chloe knew she’d made a convert. “Chloe pointed out that they haven’t, not that they don’t.”
    “But, sir—”
    “I’m going to do it,” she said.
    Kalam snorted. “This isn’t worth discussing. Are you ready for your bath, sir? I need to return the skirt to the
lugal.
”
    “Does the
lugal
decide who attends school?” she asked.
    “Tablet Houses,” Kalam said, “are private, not commonwealth, institutions. Though the lugal is an Old Boy, he is not a Tablet Father and doesn’t make those decisions.”
    “Although if a female human were to attend,” Ningal said, “she would probably have to attain the permission from a
lugal.
”
    “Sir!”
    “If, theoretically, a female human were to attend.”
    “It’s not a theory that… can even be theorized!” Kalam said. “It’s unheard of!”
    “We theorize everything,” Ningal said. “If a human is struck, we theorize how much the fine should be. We theorize every single place a human can be struck, we theorize every way a human can be struck, we theorize the most outrageous possibilities because that is what a theory is. Theoretically, a speaking goat could attend the Tablet House, if it was amenable to the Tablet Father, the
lugal,
and the goat,” Ningal said.
    “A speaking goat would be preferable to a female human in a Tablet House!” Kalam shouted.
    “I’m ready for my bath,” Ningal said, and followed the slave out.
    “I am late for my next appointment due to this, this… ludicrous conversation!” Kalam slammed his chair back from his beer jar.
    Chloe leaped to her feet. “I’m so sorry I made you late,” she said. “I tell you what. I know it’s embarrassing for you to return the
lugal’s
kilt. I’ll do it. Then you don’t have to worry about being late, or facing him. I would like to apologize personally anyway.”
    Kalam glowered at her, then consulted his clay tablet, which presumably carried the day’s duties on it. “He will be in the Temple of Sin at noon. When the sun is directly overhead,” he explained. “Don’t be late. The
lugal
hates lateness. It’s a sign of procrastination, and he hates procrastination even more. Justice Ningal and I will be in court all afternoon.” He straightened his cloak. “I guess you’ll be here by twilight?”
    “I guess.”
    Kalam adjusted his basket hat and nodded at the slave. Chloe followed him to the courtyard gate and closed it behind him. A slave ran out from the kitchens. “Kalam forgot the
lugal’s
skirt! He left it, and he won’t be back before—”
    “It’s fine,” Chloe said. “I’m going to return it.”
    “To the
lugal
?” she asked, aghast. “Weren’t you the one who threw up on him?”
    Chloe felt her face heat. But when you threw up on the leader of the people, word was going to get out, and it was going to be embarrassing. It was just going to be an experience she’d rather forget. “Yes,” she said. “I won’t be eating before I go visit the
lugal.
”
    The slave girl shrugged. “The kilt will be dry by then.”
    “Good. Would it be possible for me to get another bath?”
    “Two baths? In two days?” The slave girl’s expression showed she thought Chloe was being uppity; in fact, she muttered about living like a justice as she walked to the kitchen to heat the water.
    Chloe couldn’t explain it, but she felt euphoric. School was a term she felt comfortable with and something inside her resounded with how right the choice was.
You just might have to move heaven and earth to get there,
a voice said inside.
You’d better decide what to wear.
    *      *     *
    “May I help you?” the scribe said. His head was bald, and his belly bulged. For some unknown reason he wore a kilt rather than a cloak. A cloak would have covered his stomach and