The Octagonal Raven (34 page)

Vallura

After I checked the security to my house, Majora and I walked up the steps from the glider hangar into the front foyer. So far as I could tell, no one had been inside, but that only meant that either experts had been there or no one.

Majora studied the empty foyer, then stepped through the archway into the front sitting room. “Your house is more like an office, Daryn. Do you ever use this room?”

I had to think. The last time had been when the CAs had showed up at the front door. I couldn’t remember the time before that. “Not for a while. I didn’t entertain much, not in the last few years, anyway.” I followed her.

“This kitchen is big enough for a small hotel, and you even have gas piped in here.”

“The architect suggested it.” I grinned at her. “It does heat up the kettle quickly.”

“I’m glad it gets some use.”

We went down to the study.

Majora glanced out at the view of the East Mountains in the late afternoon sun, then at the single finch pecking to dislodge a seed from the base of the empty bird feeder. I missed the juncos, but they were strictly winter birds in Vallura.

Finally, she glanced at me. “You spend most of your time here, don’t you?”

“Except when I’m sleeping…well…it was that way until several months ago.”

“I suppose you’ll go back to that.”

I wasn’t quite sure how to read that, but I jumped in with both feet. “I’d much rather not.”

“Oh?”

“I’m asking you to give me another chance.” I smiled wryly. “Without my mother’s prompting.”

My words brought a headshake. “You’re almost as tactless as I am, dear man.”

“You bring out the best—or the most honest—part of me.”

Her gesture was not quite a dismissal. “I’ll explore, if you’ll let me, while you do whatever you have to.”

I laughed. “There’s not much to explore. Go ahead.” That wasn’t really true. The dwelling was far larger than I’d ever need by myself, but I’d never accumulated that much in the way of personal items—the result of two decades of traveling light, I supposed, in my formative adult years.

As Majora slipped toward the storeroom that was almost empty, I checked the messages—realizing that I hadn’t started work on Klevyl’s latest. I put in a call to him…and actually found him.

“Daryn…are you all right? You don’t take this long, normally.”

“I was out of touch. It’s been a hard week and then some. I’m sorry…but this time, I can’t do it.”

“It must be something,” Klevyl said slowly.

“It is. My father and my brother died from this latest plague, and my sister was killed in that tube crash in Westeuro.”

The leonine-maned engineer shook his head, then said, “I am sorry. I really am.”

“There is one other thing, Klevyl. You might get something out of it in the future, because I respect your work.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Daryn. Your work has been the best I could get.”

“The other thing is that I’m the acting director general of UniComm.” I offered a rueful smile. “It only took enough tragedies to wipe out almost all my family.”

“I said I was sorry…and I am, but UniComm will be better for it.”

I appreciated his confidence. I wasn’t sure he was right. “Thank you. If we build anything, you’ll be on the bid list.”

“You don’t have to…”

“It’s not having to; it’s getting the best.” I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner, but I hope you can understand.”

“I understand. Take care, Daryn.”

“Thank you.” I’d always liked and respected Klevyl, and I still did.

After clearing my throat, I put in another call to Mertyn. I didn’t have to bother. I only got the sim.

There wasn’t much else on the gatekeeper, and I went to find Majora. She was in the unfinished bay under the great room.

“You have enough space here for three families.” She turned. “You have that thoughtful look.”

“I called Mertyn. His sim still answers. Would you mind if we stopped there on the way to take you home?”

“No. I know you’ve been worried about him.”

As we headed for the glider hangar, I reset all the security systems, receding them, for all the good it might do.

“After you, lady.” I beckoned for her to enter the glider, and got a smile for my over-courtly attitude.

Again, I left my belt repeater unpowered, and the canopy closed as I guided the glider northward once more.

Both Majora and I were uncharacteristically silent, perhaps because we both were considering all that had happened so quickly. I was also trying to figure out how to broach the idea of my staying with her on a much more permanent basis, and not just for security.

When we got to Mertyn’s, it was clear that no one was there, and that no one had been, possibly since he had left for his wilderness excursion.

I was appalled. The grass was matted, and the tulips and daffodils were struggling to get out from under the mulch blanket Mertyn had applied. Leaves, dust, and dirt covered the front veranda, enough that I could see bird tracks on the stones.

I rang the bell. Nothing happened. I also pounded on the door. No one answered.

“Something happened to him.” That was a stupidly true statement, I realized, immediately after uttering it.

“Wouldn’t someone notice?” asked Majora.

“Probably not. He wasn’t married long…no children. Teaching was his life, but I was probably as close to him as anyone.” I shook my head. “We need to notify the CAs that he seems to be missing.”

“Let’s do it from my place,” she suggested.

“Your place?”

“We need to stay together.”

“I hoped you’d say that.” I couldn’t help smiling a little. “Would you mind if I spend some of my funds to improve security?”

She shook her head. “You were waiting for that.”

“I was trying to figure out how to say it.”

“Separate bedrooms, Daryn. And for now, it’s because of the situation. Besides, my garden needs attention. You don’t even have one. And fewer people know where I am, and no one has seen us together.”

“They could trace….”

“You’ve used my access codes, remember.” She smiled faintly. “Also, I’m closer to Kewood.”

I shook my head. “You are persuasive.”

“Opportunistic.”

“I don’t think so.” She wasn’t opportunistic. I’d never met anyone less so, and in a world where everyone wanted everything, I was coming to value her more and more. “But I will bow to your common sense.” And her warmth and support, and everything else that I should have seen years earlier.

Kewood

Standing at the corner of the cherry wood desk that had been my father’s, in the office I’d never even considered holding, I handed Majora the list of five names Nyhal had given me, and the information included with them. “That’s the list of people Eldyn said were behind the attacks on Elora and me. If you could see what’s available in the UniComm archives and anywhere else on them…”

“There’s probably something. I assume you want anything that would shed light on their actions and motivations.” Majora was in a deep blue singlesuit that somehow enhanced her figure and her color.

“And anything that can be truthfully used to cast some light on their ambitions to rule the world indirectly.” I’d meant the words to come out sardonically or ironically, but I could hear more bitterness than irony. Then, they were responsible for all too many deaths, and I had this feeling that Mertyn’s might be among them. He should have returned long ago. “Oh…when you get a moment, can you check with the CAs and see if they have any information on Mertyn?”

“I did, just a little while ago.” Her voice was hesitant.

“You don’t sound like you have good news.”

“His body was found in the Brys Canyon Wilderness four weeks ago. There was no one to notify, except the Society of Dynae.”

“Do they know what happened?”

“They say he fell off a steep trail.”

I had no doubts that Mertyn was shoved, and by the agents of those illustrious souls I’d just asked Majora to research.

“You think he was murdered, too, don’t you?” she asked.

“I
know
he was murdered. I just don’t know why. He wasn’t a stakeholder—or if he had been, he couldn’t have had that many shares. He wasn’t a public spokesman for the Dynae.”

“But he advised you. Maybe they’re trying to isolate you.”

I laughed, half-bitterly. “Except for you, I’m already isolated, and while it’s necessary, even the security services at your place are another form of isolation, in a way, even if most people don’t notice them.”

“They’re necessary, and I’m glad you didn’t wait.” She offered a faint smile.

“You’re worth all the security,” I said.

“You’re getting more gallant.”

“Even as I become more isolated? Most of my previous clients can’t hire me now, and wouldn’t talk to me, except socially. Half my family is dead, and I’ve never been that outgoing, anyway.”

“That’s an advantage, Daryn. Now.”

“Because there’s nobody left for them to kill or pressure?”

“They should have more difficulty determining what you might do.”

“I imagine they will, considering I’m having trouble figuring it out.”

“Are you?” she asked softly. “Or are you having trouble accepting what may be necessary?”

“You already know me too well.” I didn’t have to force the grin. “Maybe because we’re alike.”

Her deep brown eyes smiled, and for a moment, I just looked at her.

“What do we know about the stakeholders’ meeting?” I finally asked.

“The PST Trust has been contacting every institutional holder of UniComm stock, and sending advocates and consultants to visit them.” Majora’s lips twisted for a moment. “You didn’t expect any other approach, did you?”

“No.” I nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“They’re misrepresenting the situation. Are you going to fight? Send out more truthful information?”

I smiled. “Not until after the meeting.”

She raised her thick but finely drawn dark eyebrows.

“We’ll just keep track…both of who votes what and how.”

Her eyes met mine. Then she looked away.

“One other thing…”

She looked up.

“The alien connection? Have you found anything that would…” I let the words drift into silence.

“That would show anything about whether the first plague was alien or contrived?” Her mouth twisted. “There are several FU reports. What I’ve read so far indicates Eldyn didn’t create it. He wasn’t even involved with the first teams, and until then he wouldn’t have had access to the laboratories and equipment.” She shrugged. “There doesn’t seem to be much after that, though.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise you, does it?”

“No.”

I winced at the flatness of her tone.

“I’ll keep looking, Daryn, but I don’t think we’ll find more.”

Neither did I.

After a long moment of silence, she smiled, a sad smile, but with warmth beneath, and so did I, just because she had.