The Octagonal Raven (22 page)

“I’m also worried about people with organizations that can plan so well and so far ahead that the CAs are useless.”

Majora laughed. “The Federal Union operates almost entirely on consensus and cooperation. CAs are more façade than reality, in anything except tracking down spontaneous crimes of violence. Surveillance systems catch most people, and integrated bookkeeping systems catch most of the rest. If we had things like the widespread riots of the Collapse, or the anarchy of the Chaos Years, the CAs would be almost totally useless, and there aren’t enough Federal Union troops to deal with more than a handful of cities. We’re just too orderly, Daryn.”

I had this feeling that she just might be right.

“What else?” I wondered, trying to stifle a yawn.

Majora yawned as well, then grinned sheepishly. “We’re…too tired…to think well….” She stood.

So did I.

“Thank you.” I eased around the table and gave her a hug, and for the moment we were cheek to cheek. For that moment, I felt less alone.

“You need some sleep, and so do I.” She smiled as she stepped back. “It would be much better—and safer—if you stayed here tonight. And, if your friend calls back, you’ll be here.”

“I still need some things from home before I go on this quest.”

“In the morning you won’t be any more of a target, and you can link with your security systems from the glider, can’t you? And you’ll be less groggy, won’t you?”

I nodded.

“Then that’s settled. The guest room is the first one on the left.” Her tone was quite clear.

But…I did sleep better.

Fledgling: Yunvil, 445 N.E.

I’d finished a complete FS career, if about the shortest possible one, and was happy to have done so. For one thing, although it was totally personal, no one could ever say that I’d gotten a free ride in life because I was an Alwyn. Second, I’d done it in a field where Father’s money and prestige couldn’t help or hurt. And third, I had enough credits and income from my Federal Service that I didn’t have to bow and scrape to either Gerrat or Father.

That said, I still had to go home…and then turn my ideas into real plans for the future—after the welcome home/retirement party my mother had insisted on throwing, and after encountering the several “appropriate” young and not-so-young women who were certain to be there.

So I found myself in a dark green singlesuit, with a silver jacket trimmed in light green, the first time I hadn’t been in black and silver for a formal occasion in close to twenty-five years, headed down the stairs to go to a party in my honor that I wasn’t entirely certain I even wanted to attend. The heavy Mahdish carpet runner that ran over the polished hardwood floor muffled the sound of the boots I’d grown to like while in the FS and intended to keep wearing.

The carpet didn’t muffle my steps enough, apparently, because as I passed the door to the private study, Father cleared his throat. Loudly.

“Daryn.” He beckoned for me to enter the study. Usually, the door was closed, and that meant he’d been looking for me, but didn’t want to give the appearance of doing so.

I stepped in.

“You might close the door, son. We haven’t had a chance to talk.” He smiled. “Rather, I think you’ve been avoiding any serious talk.”

With a shrug, I said, “I have been. This is the first time in my life where I’ve had a chance to think about what I’d like to do. In a realistic sense, that is.”

“And what do you want to do? Do you know?”

“No.” I grinned. “I promised myself that I’d take six months and travel and think before I made any serious decisions. If I decided the rest of my life on the rebound from Federal Service, I don’t think the decision would be as wise as it could be.”

Father frowned, then fingered his chin. Finally, he nodded. “You might well be right. I can see the wisdom in that.” He straightened up in his chair, then smiled again, more genuinely. “I won’t keep you. Your mother wants you to enjoy this.” His smile turned to a grin. “She does have some plans.”

I laughed. “I know, but those will have to wait, too.”

“She is very patient.”

We both laughed.

He gestured toward the door. “Go ahead. I’ll be down in a bit.”

“If you aren’t, Mother will send some one after you,” I suggested.

“Probably.”

I did manage to make it down to the main level and out to the back—and the upper veranda of the house I’d grown up in, where I looked out over the garden in the early evening, to the pool to the west, and then down the grassy swale beyond, while I waited for the innumerable guests to arrive.

There was a hint of grapes in the fall air, mixing with the scent of the late roses, but it was still warm enough for people to circulate outside, and I’d spent enough time inside ships and stations that I didn’t care at that moment if I ever went back. I was just enjoying the light and cool breeze.

I walked to the other side of the veranda where I found Rhedya’s brother Haywar, sitting on the bench tucked in a boxwood framed nook, the one where I’d first kissed Ertis. He was wearing a long face.

“You look less than scintillating.”

His response was almost a glare.

“Sorry…I didn’t mean to intrude.” I stepped back.

“It’s not…. I suppose you hadn’t heard. Frydrik didn’t do well on his PIAT.” Haywar stood slowly, then shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes going over my shoulder toward the veranda, as if to ensure our conversation would be private. Not that it would be, since Father had a complete net through the grounds.

I frowned. “But…”

“We had the best possible pre-select from Denyse and me.” He shrugged. “Even today, the process isn’t foolproof. Nature still has her say.”

“Is it—” I began.

“Not even close. We’ve worried for the past few years. He seemed…well…less perceptive than Alyssa…but boys…sometimes they’re later in developing.”

“How is Denyse taking it?”

“If we didn’t have Alyssa, she’d terminate the contract, I think. She puts on a good front, but I can tell she thinks it’s my fault.”

I wasn’t about to touch that. “Frydrik always seemed bright enough….”

“Intellectual brilliance, and perceptual ability aren’t the same.” Haywar offered a crooked smile. “Nor stability.”

“So…what will you do?”

“Send him to one of the good engineering universities, and hope he doesn’t get too upset. He’s got talent that way.”

I nodded slowly. Much as Haywar sometimes had gotten on my nerves, I could tell he was upset. No one liked to realize that his child was unable to achieve on the same level as his parents. It happened, even in families with the best of advantages, but it was hard on the parents, and harder still on the child, no matter what sort of rationale was used.

“Haywar!” called a voice, and then Denyse stepped through the faux French doors and onto the veranda. She stepped forward, looking around until her eyes found us. “Oh…Daryn…I didn’t realize you and Haywar were out here.”

“I was enjoying the fresh air,” I offered. “It’s still a novelty these days.”

“I would imagine so.” Denyse was a squarish blonde with direct green eyes, and a way of tilting her head to the left whenever she talked. “I couldn’t take being closed in like that.”

“You get used to it.”

“I’m not sure I ever would.” She looked at her husband. “I looked around, and you just wandered off. I was talking to Hynman Rykof about engineering schools. He was just behind us coming in, you know, and he had some insights I thought you would appreciate.”

“I’ll be right there,” Haywar affirmed.

Denyse nodded. “I’ll tell him. Please don’t be too long.”

“I won’t, but I haven’t seen Daryn in years.”

The blonde smiled. “I know. I’ll tell Hynman you’ll be coming.”

As Denyse turned, Haywar shrugged, then said, “It’s good to see you. I hope I don’t have to rescue you from the ladies your mother has lined up—”

“Daryn?” Mother’s voice came from between the faultlessly trimmed gap in the hedges that led both to the front of the house and the glider park—or to the hedge maze that Grandfather had created years ago.

“I’m here.”

Haywar grinned. “I’ll bet she has a young lady with her.”

“I’m not about to bet on that.”

“I’ll see you later,” he said, still grinning, stepping back and bowing.

As he walked toward the faux French doors, following Denyse, Mother walked through the hedge followed by a tall brunette.

I smothered a smile.

“Daryn,” Mother began as she stepped forward. “This is Majora Hyriss. You know, of the Helnya Hyrisses.”

Majora laughed, self-deprecatingly. “I do hope you won’t hold that against me.”

“I certainly won’t, not if you don’t hold my being of the Yunvil Alwyns against me.”

“Now, Daryn,” Mother said. “She’s very nice, but remember that there are others inside who would like to see you as well. I’ll tell them you’ll be in in a few moments.”

“If you would…” I inclined my head and smiled until Mother left. What else could I do?

Then, for a long moment, Majora and I just studied each other. She was nearly as tall as I was, thin-faced, with dark brown eyes and a wide mouth.

“What was it like, being a pilot? I’ve never met anyone I knew who was.” She put her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. I still have this tendency to blurt out things.”

“That’s all right.” I grinned. “People can say what they want about being a pilot, but ninety-nine percent of the time you’re a glorified public glider driver. The other one percent, you’re a tyrant, fighting terror, and hoping no one else recalls either.”

“That scarcely fits the heroic image conveyed by the FS,” Majora said.

“It’s in everyone’s interest not to show that image,” I said with a laugh. “And what do you do these days?”

“Me? I’m a systems expediter for GTrans. Very glamorous. You know, analyzing nanite assembly routines and then reverse engineering to determine if systems can be improved or simplified.”

“At least it’s not in communications,” I replied.

“I’d be a disaster there—if I had to appear in public, that is, or in meetings. I have this problem with saying what I feel before I think.” A lopsided smile followed the words. “Your mother didn’t mention it, but I will. She tried to get your brother interested in me before Rhedya. We went out once, and he brought me home after an hour, saying he wasn’t feeling well.”

I laughed…and kept laughing.

Soon she was laughing almost as loudly as I was.

Finally, I just shook my head. “So…she’s pairing lost causes, now.”

“No…your mother is very perceptive. She knows you won’t like anyone Gerrat does.”

“How do you know?”

“The party’s for you, and you’re out on the veranda. Your brother’s the one inside greeting everyone, as if it were his party.”

“I suppose I should go in.” I offered her my arm. She took it, and we crossed the stones of the veranda, walking toward the open French door, and the sound of voices that drifted out into the twilight.

Raven: Vallura, 459 N.E.

I got back to my dwelling early…very early, before sunrise. Majora had been right. There were no signs of any tampering with the house, the commsystems, or the security codes and keys—and no trace of intruders.

As Majora had reminded me, before I could leave, there was yet another detail to take care of—making contact with the Director of the EDA Trust, one Lyenne DeVor. I was lucky, and the time differential helped.

The image on the screen was of a square-faced woman with equally square cut brown hair.

“I’m Daryn Alwyn….”

“I was expecting your call. I recognize you from the pictures your sister left. We received all the authentications from Solicitor Bergamo.” Her voice carried a faint accent, but not one with which I was familiar.

“I’m assuming that you’re the one in charge of day-to-day operations of the trust.”

She laughed. “I’m the one who’s in charge of everything from opening the office to managing portfolio operations. As trusts go, we are very modest.”

“The holdings’ list was not modest,” I suggested.

“Not for an individual, but for a trust, we are on the small side.”

“This is new to me. The only thing I know is that I’ll need voting control of…” I paused, not really wanting to say more.

“I thought so. You are already listed as the authority to vote all our holdings, but I did not forward that authorization to any of the organizations.”

“Is there a deadline for that?”

“It can get rather tight if they don’t get authorization at least a week before a meeting.”

“I see. How about two weeks?”

“I would suggest timing it to arrive two weeks before…. I assume this is the meeting the previous trustee requested.”

I nodded. “I’m not trying to change that. That’s fine with me. What else should I know?”

“I’ve taken the liberty of assembling some background materials on the trust and our holdings, and I thought I’d send them out under a code set provided by your sister.”

“I’d ask you to wait three or four days, if you would. I’ll be traveling.”

“I can do that….” She went on to tell me where in Mancha her office was physically located and a few other details, which I committed to memory before I begged off.

After that, I was hurrying so much to pack and take care of the details that I didn’t even scan the news…which I usually did while I ate in the morning, but there were no alerts on the gatekeeper, and that was good.

Once packed, I debated whether to call a public glider, but decided instead to take my own down to the induction tube station. It was old enough not to be too obvious, and the station parking area was enclosed and covered and monitored.

I supposed there was some risk in making an advance reservation for a private compartment on the TransPac, but there wasn’t enough time for someone to bring in another set of the explosive monoclones—and if they were already in place…it didn’t matter.

I made one last call to Majora, but she still hadn’t heard anything from Eldyn.

The tube express to Westi left at ten minutes before the hour and twenty minutes past, for scheduling reasons I never quite understood, and that didn’t require anything but showing up, and getting a credlink.

When I left my dwelling at quarter to eight, I carried a small bag that held two singlesuits, coordinated vests, undergarments and toiletries. I did keep the glider canopy closed as I eased down from the lower hill and into the center of the valley. I debated on whether to even take the belt remote, since it didn’t work well underground and since I could be tracked if I used it, but in the end, just double-checked to make sure it was off—not on standby, but with the power off.

It could have been my imagination, but Vallura seemed quieter than usual on a threeday morning, and the covered glider parking area was more than two-thirds empty. That could have been because I seldom went anywhere that early. I hope I lasted what would be a very long day.

My boots echoed dully on the hard composite as I walked into the station and down the ramps to the lower level, under the clean unadorned redstone arches, until I stopped by the shimmering barrier and offered my link code. The small sticker appeared on the shoulder tab of my singlesuit, and I walked through the barrier toward the southbound platform. Beyond the barrier, the air was drier, with a hint of metallic acridity.

Unlike some of the older stations, the Vallura station had used local stone, appropriately reinforced and strengthened with binding nanites, with minimalist sculpting, and I’d always enjoyed the simple and uncluttered sweep of the walls and arched ceilings.

Several norms were already waiting on the platform. One of them—a curly-haired young woman in a blue singlesuit with a white vest trimmed in a brighter blue—edged away from me, never quite looking in my direction. An older man with a trimmed white beard nodded and smiled.

A youth—wearing the typical wide-legged red leather singlesuit and a white vest that strobed—stared blankly at me. I stared back until he looked down. The youth in red joined two others clad similarly—wide-legged leather suits with deep vee-necks in single bright monocolors, one green, one blue—the colors accentuated with the strobing white vests.

Another clump of young adults—norms and pre-selects wearing dark green jackets over various colored and patterned singlesuits—milled around at the far end of the platform, students from their matching jackets and probably headed to Westi for something.

A heavyset norm puffed toward the platform as the three cars of the tube train whistled through the pressure barrier at the end of the tube and settled into the shaped platform. No one got off.

I followed the noncon youths into the second car. All three slumped into the bench seats at the end of the car, and I took a seat in the middle at the side, facing away from them.

This train is departing. This train is departing
. The words were not only spoken, but echoed through my personal links, and the links of those who had them.

I listened to the noncons, letting my systemics amplify their words.

“…thinks he’s something…he does…”

“…all do…”

“…riding the tube…can’t be that much…real ups don’t mess with tubes…”

I wanted to smile. I’d always spent time on the tubes. So had most of my family.

“…bigger than most…big abs and pecs…”

“…take him…”

One of the youths snorted disagreement. “Be the type with defense mods…”

He was right about that, although the incident with the monoclone had been the first time I’d used them since I’d been in FS training.

“…say there’s another bug…hitting ’em…”

“…sure…”

“…Lynna better be waiting…”

“…with her friends…”

A raucous laugh filled the car.

The slight change in car pressure indicated the tube train was gliding to a stop.

Once we were past the pressure barrier, through the armaglass of the car doors came the bright lights of the local receiving platform—filled with men and women, mostly norms, hurrying across the spotless white-gray granite floor.

I let the young men get off first. That way I could watch them.

The one in blue glanced back, once, but they sauntered toward the ramp leading up to the exit area. I carried the small bag and strode toward the lower ramp, behind a norm couple—wearing large shimmering shoulder-packs.

“Hiseo will be waiting. You’ll see,” the woman asserted.

“…be a first, if he is…”

I smiled. Hiseo was probably her brother.

At the clearance barrier, I offered the link and reservation code, and received another shimmering sticker on my shouldertab. Then I stepped through the barrier…and shivered. The area was considerably colder, but I could sense my system beginning to adjust.

The deep induction tubes were probably the greatest engineering achievement of the post-Collapse world, and were made possible only by the combination of nanitic infrastructure and the mastery of the principles behind the LDD-photon drive. Far faster than anything except a suborbital lifter, the deep induction tube trains linked continents in the ways in which cities had once been linked—and without the adverse impacts of energy and hydrocarbon discharges.

After I used the public comm to make another check with Majora, who still hadn’t heard anything, I stood and walked around the waiting platform, thinking.

Nyhal was a norm, a brilliant norm. One Cys had tried to destroy him. Flora had mentioned him. He was being isolated from me, and she was dead. Flora had arranged a stakeholder meeting, presumably to try to take over UniComm. Knowing her, she wouldn’t have tried that if she hadn’t been very worried.

With all that, I definitely had the feeling that whatever was going on was far larger than a mere netsys battle, but I couldn’t quite figure how Elysa and Eldyn fit in—only that they did. And no matter how I arranged the pieces in my mind, something was missing. And that something was still missing a half hour later when the westbound TransPac slid into the loading zone. By then, there were fifty people waiting, perhaps seventy-five, mostly norms. They seemed to be giving me a wider berth than normal, unless I was being more sensitive.

I waited for a moment, until I realized that no one was disembarking, before I stepped toward the open doors of the middle car, and then inside, into the off-blue shimmering walls and indirect light.

Thank you. Your compartment is four right. Please proceed
.

I proceeded, past the chair car section. Even in the coach seating, passages weren’t that cheap, and the area was but half filled, and compared to the seating available, there hadn’t been more than a few handfuls of people waiting on the platform, far fewer than the few times I’d taken intercontinental or transcontinental before.

I opened the compartment door, gingerly, but the space was vacant, as it should have been. After I stepped inside, I locked the compartment and slipped my bag into the small locker behind the door. Then, I sat down in the chair beside the wall that showed a holo screen scene of the Calfya coast perhaps two hundred klicks north of Westi.

The train is departing. Please be seated. The train is departing. Please be seated
.

The motion was smooth, far smoother than with a maglifter or a glider, and as I sat there, hurling westward, I had to wonder at the expense and possible futility of my journey. I couldn’t explain it, but I
knew
I’d never learn what I needed through the nets and corn-systems. No matter what anyone said, not all communication was carried accurately or completely, even in full VR…and I knew I needed every scrap of information.

I could still be on a fool’s errand. Or walking into a trap. Or both.

But…since people were trying to kill me at home…and had killed Elora…I had to do…to try…something.

That scarcely reassured me, as I sat back and tried to relax…to rest.