“This is the most delicious piece of cheating,” Jeasa confessed in cheery silvers as they guided their horses over the field, “and I feel absolutely no guilt about it whatsoever.”
“I don’t know that using a satellite image instead of a poorly and inaccurately rendered map should be construed as cheating,” Jahir said, amused.
“It certainly is when there are few places on the planet that can put that satellite image onto paper.” His mother patted her breast where said map was residing, tucked into the inside pocket of her riding habit. “A data tablet would have been far less trouble than insisting on a physical copy. Much less one that looks hand-drawn.” She beamed. “I cannot wait to replace the old map in the library. Do you suppose anyone will notice? Maybe I should artificially age it… but no, if I make the attempt at darkening the corners with a candle flame I might burn the house down. Better that I have a story prepared. I know just the thing! Elves exchanged it for pots of cream left out on the lawn of a morning.”
It was impossible not to laugh at the mischief that sparkled on her aura like dew in sunlight. “I misdoubt highly that anyone would believe such a tale.”
“I suppose not. Brownies are the ones who like milk, aren’t they? But they’re tied to households so how would they ever roam far enough to commit such an extravagance to paper?” She pulled up her horse to survey the field, tilting her hat to shade her eyes. “This is too open, I think. But about the right size?”
“Yes, and yes.”
“I worry a touch that they might be too far from us by foot. What if we cannot acquire a Pad for their settlement?”
“Then they will walk to the manor until we do,” Jahir replied. “They can always use the Pad to return.”
“Oh! Yes. I forget that it can send without a receiving Pad.” She tapped her heels against her mare and set off at a canter, her skirts flapping on the animal’s hindquarters. Smiling, he followed.
Their goal for the day was to identify a number of sites that might serve the incoming Glaseah, and perhaps sketch notions on how they might use the real estate. Jahir’s visits to Anseahla had been necessarily few, for the gravity made longer stays grueling… but he remembered well the handful of hours he’d spent with Vasiht’h in his parents’ community. He didn’t know what exactly his partner’s family had planned, but he wanted them to have options, and solidifying those options would simplify Liolesa’s decision as well.
Besides, it was no hardship to ride with his mother on a spring morning, with the breeze fresh on his brow and the white sunlight glistering on his mother’s hair and her mare’s pale mane. Jeasa’s habit, with its fuller skirts, had not been strictly fashionable for years, and she insisted on wearing colors other than those considered proper for a matriarch in the royal—now imperial—house. In sunlit green linen and with spring’s peach flowers braided into her hair, she looked a maiden rather than a widow with two grown sons.
Did he feel a pang riding the grounds? He loved Seni still. It would no longer be his, when his mother stepped down from her seat, and some might have wondered if the loss troubled him. What he felt at the sight of it, beyond fondness, was gratitude: that it had nourished him, and released him to his destiny. He could not fear for Seni’s future, not with his mother at the reins, and his brother to follow her.
They rode off a slope and under the wildling trees, and a flock of birds leapt away in a fan of flashing wings at the tattoo of their horses’ hooves. Jahir ducked his head beneath a branch, slowing his mount. Like all the horses in the stable, the gelding was an unexceptional ride; Jahir remembered the fire and flash of the solidigraphic mounts on the starbase and suppressed a smile. How Lisinthir would laugh to hear him opine that their fake horses had felt more lifelike than this real one! And yet there was pleasure in the effort of riding, and the heat generated by the living creature moving under him. He was grateful Lisinthir had forced him to resume his practice; Pads would come to Escutcheon, but it was hard to imagine horses vanishing overnight.
Jeasa glanced up at the intertwined branches. “Will they prefer shade to open areas? We could clear some of this….”
“They might,” Jahir said. “But I think they may be capable of sculpting whatever they please, and it is the location that will matter.”
“So in selecting our choices… we might suggest something close to the manor, something far from it on the other side from the village, and something close enough to both to visit?”
“If you think the tenants would be amenable.”
“I will not have tenants less accepting than Laisrathera’s,” Jeasa said firmly, shadowing a few words. “We will find a way for both parties to endear themselves to one another before they have a chance to find one another appalling.”
Jahir chuckled softly. “A high-minded if difficult goal… one I look forward to setting in your capable hands.”
“Good. You’ll be busy enough with your own tasks.” She reined up her mare so they could ride abreast. “You have some sense of what your days will be like now, I imagine.”
“Prior to the wedding,” Jahir allowed. He rubbed his thumbs on the reins, chafing glove against strap. “After it… I suspect there will be a great deal of politics.”
“Does that daunt you, my love?”
“No,” Jahir replied. And smiled ruefully. “Is that hubris, you think?”
“That you feel you might be up to managing a passel of provincials after fighting literal slavers and despots over the fate of galactic empires?” She sniffed. “I don’t know. Is it?”
He hid his smile, knew she caught it anyway. “The challenges here are no less difficult for their smaller scale.”
“Of course not. But you might face them with far more equanimity, after having pitted yourself against worse ones.” She shook her head, the ribbons on her hat fluttering. “No, I don’t think it hubris at all. But I fear it may disappoint you.”
“The pettiness?” he guessed, and saw her sadness briefly in her eyes as she glanced at him. “Where there are people, Mother, there are fears and shames and guilts and regrets. You think of me as a warrior—and I pledge you, with very little reason!—when in fact, I am far more a psychologist, and a healer. Pettiness might disappoint me, but it won’t surprise me. And it is that surprise that breeds resentment, bitterness, and feelings of betrayal. No… this is just… another very long illness that needs a doctor. One does not hate disease. But one does not surrender one’s patients to it, either.”
“Oh my!” Jeasa sighed. “When your children grow wiser than you, then truly—”
“I hope you are not about to say ‘you are obsolete’…?”
“I was going to say, ‘then truly you can retire and eat bonbons while reading improper novels and poetry.’”
Jahir laughed, shining the words gold and silver. “I will buy you as many books as you like!”
Her eyes twinkled as she tossed him another of those brilliant smiles, and then she was pulling the map out of her pocket and unfolding it. The mare plodded along beneath her, incurious. “Here, we should be coming to a very lovely area… ah!”
They passed from beneath the nodding arches of the trees and into what had been a field; some capricious wind had sown sufficient seeds to have brought forth several copses, and a single tree near the center was so old three of its largest branches had sagged to the ground and grown felted with opportunistic grasses and flowers. Its uppermost branches curved downward in a great cup until the leaves trailed on the ground, creating a shifting pattern of light green shadows.
“Who could resist such a marvel! We shall picnic there.”
“A worthy throne for the Seni sealbearer.”
“Oh yes!” Jeasa laughed, delighted. “If all thrones were trees wound with flowers, you would find me far less oppressed by them.”
Jahir tied the horses down while his mother saw to their spread, and they were soon ensconced beneath the dense boughs, with the ruffle of the wind through the eaves for music. “There should be,” his mother said, still looking at the map, “a stream thereabouts…?” She raised her head and shaded her eyes, pointing toward the south. “Where the field ends. We shall check, for all this place lacks is running water to approach perfection. Which we all know is rare under Heaven.”
“Then we shall eat and enjoy it as the gift it is.”
She flashed him another of those happy smiles, and he savored it, even as he sensed the gray veil that shivered beneath it. Not melancholy… something more active. It tasted like worry, and the first few bites of their lunch were contaminated by it, like a film that numbed his tongue. But he ate, and he poured their sparkling wine, and lifted his face to the breeze and closed his eyes, feeling the ripple of the shadows over his skin.
When they had sated themselves, he said, gently, in the softest white, “Art worried, Lady Mother?”
“Well should I have known how futile it were to hide it.” She toyed with her napkin, pleating it. “It is only that this is the most delicate of times.”
“Say on?”
“This is the moment we are most likely to stumble,” Jeasa said, the words coming slowly. “When we feel we can breathe. When we think the race is won and all the future before us, and only the details need arrangement. But it is those details that make the difference between success and failure, and they are not settled. In no way is this world and her people reconciled to the necessities that Liolesa has seen fit to force on them. No matter that they are necessary—that will only make fighting them more urgent, because they can think of no other alternative that saves face.” She looked out over the meadow. “See how idyllic this spring. But we must not forget winter’s teeth.”
He reached over and set his hand over hers on her lap. Startled, she looked up at him.
“Do you trust me?”
“Oh, my love. Need you ask?”
“Then rest a trifle easier.” He raised her hand enough to cup it in both of his. “I do not mistake the difficulty of the task before us because it can now be engaged openly, rather than in the furtive means we have used in the past. And I think you entirely correct. It is easy to be complacent when so large a battle has been won. One wishes…” He hesitated, smiled sadly. “One wishes to return home the feted hero, the happy ending ensured without further strife or anguish. But life is not a story, and well I know it, and my betrothed and beloveds with me. And the Empress…”
“Is the Empress,” Jeasa said with a sigh. “But they have tried to overthrow her before.”
“And failed. God and Lady set her in place, Lady Mother. If she has not died yet, then she is not done.”
“Alas for us all, if that is so,” Jeasa said, quiet. “Are we allotted no rest in this life, I wonder? No time to enjoy the fruits of our striving?” And then she made a soft noise and squeezed his hand. “But listen to me, waxing so unnecessarily melancholic. You should not heed the maunderings—”
“If you are about to say ‘of an old woman,’ I pray you do not! You are a woman in your prime, Jeasa Seni Galare, and well you know it.”
The streak of mischief lit her eyes again. “Well… perhaps I do at that. I shall trust the future to your hands, then, my love.”
“And your own, for as you’ve noted, you are no ancient.”
“And my own.” She hesitated. “Strange to think that… I didn’t think of it thus. One sees heroes and youths and assumes the future’s shaping belongs to them. You would think I’d know better with Liolesa at the helm!”
“The future is shaped by all those who exert themselves, no matter their age or their past deeds,” Jahir said. “And I should very much prefer to live in a future that had your hand in it. Which is why we should resume our ride… because if you think hosting my partner’s family is not an investment in your vision of that future, I ask you to reconsider your premises.”
She laughed. “That is an excellent point. I look forward to being a thorn in all my enemies’ sides! By all means, let us continue our survey.”
They resumed their ride, and Jahir was gratified to see that gray veil had fallen from his mother’s aura. But her warning… that lingered with him. Not because he’d been insensible to the dangers of assuming they would have an easy road before them, but because something about that warning made the skin down his back prickle. He wished it reminded him of Lisinthir’s touch, but it didn’t. It called him back to the pain between his shoulder blades, where his skin had stuck to the wall of the Usurper’s study. And it felt… he looked up into the cloudless sky. It felt like storms.
“My love?”
“Coming,” Jahir said, and kneed his gelding after her.
“Vasiht’h!” Sediryl dropped her tablet and went to a knee, arms open, and Vasiht’h grinned and filled them. Her shoulder was warm and solid under his nose, and she smelled like wildflowers… the best kind, the ones that bloomed over herbs and spices, and demanded the freedom of strong winds and broad fields. She felt good in his arms, too; her narrow build looked frail until you got a good hug going, and then you could feel the muscle and sinew. Like a rock, he thought, approving. His partner deserved nothing less, and their world… well. The Eldritch needed people like this.
Come to think of it, the Alliance and all her allies did, too.
Leaning back, he looked into her face, and she was smiling too as she spoke. “One piece, promise.”
Which was a joke, but under the teasing they understood. Are you safe—I am. “I never doubted,” Vasiht’h replied. “And now that I’m done wringing your ribcage, let me make introductions.” He stepped back so he could face the door and found Kovihs still hovering there… probably unavoidably. Sediryl had sent directions to where she was staying, and while Vasiht’h was sure there were more expensive places on the starbase, he was also sure there were a lot more cheaper ones. Starbase Ne’s primary city dome had been built to please its host species, so it had been sculpted into rising terraces of green hills, stairstepped all the way up to the inner wall where the staggered platforms of the inner hull had taken over. Sediryl had engaged the top of one of these terraces, with a commanding view of the entire slope of the city down to its rolling fields and distant watercourses. That latter had stolen Vasiht’h’s breath when he’d first seen it; the segregation between water and land habitats had been more typical in the starbases he’d seen. The miniature river delta at the far end of Ne’s city sphere must have required a fantastical effort to balance and maintain in a closed environment.
This single room was large enough to fit half of Vasiht’h’s family house, and was open on two sides to a balcony, and the sunshine falling through it was rich as butter. Sediryl looked like she belonged here, in her sleek riding coat of modern cut; like an upscale model, her clothing chosen to match the palette around her, warm browns and glowing creams. Her companion, awaiting introduction, looked like she’d just stepped off a freighter… but her wry grin and the cocked hip made a lie out of her folded arms. She was comfortable here, in a way Kovihs wasn’t.
“Sediryl, this is my brother-in-law, Kovihs, who married my favorite sister Sehvi and produced at least one nephew who kicks me in his sleep. Kovihs, this is Sediryl…” He paused, because Sediryl’s family names were an issue, and when she inclined her head, he finished, “future heir to the Eldritch Empire. A Galare, naturally. And Jahir’s fiancée. I… don’t know you yet, though?”
“Reese Eddings Laisrathera,” the other woman replied.
“You’re that Reese?” Vasiht’h said, startled.
“You’re in trouble now, arii,” Sediryl said, laughing. “He’s heard of you.”
“And I’m not twelve feet tall and breathing fire?” Reese snorted. “Let me guess. ‘You’re not what I expected.’”
“Um… sorry?”
Reese laughed. “All right, all right. It’s fine, I don’t blame you. I’m not a tall, pearly-skinned elf.”
“Thank Goddess and Lord,” Sediryl said. “If they’d installed such an elf at Rose Point, Firilith would finish sinking into the sea and everyone in the province would starve.”
“Wait,” Kovihs said, hesitant. “Laisrathera sounds like an Eldritch word. But…”
“I’m not an Eldritch?” Reese said. Which was, Vasiht’h thought, one of the few obvious statements that could be made in a multicultural nation the size of the Alliance, where people might not be what they seemed on the surface. It was safe to assume Reese wasn’t Eldritch, though, because she was shorter even than Sediryl, who was the shortest adult Eldritch Vasiht’h had seen; her solid build was different from the alarmingly homogeneous populace that made up the Eldritch; and all her colors were more vibrant: bright blue eyes, black hair, dark brown skin. “Right. I’m a human who married an Eldritch and got saddled with a failing Eldritch province and a castle that was falling apart. As a gift.”
“My aunt’s gifts are… interesting,” Sediryl murmured, impish.
“Since the castle came with the man and I’m keeping the man, I’m all right with it,” Reese answered, grinning. But she was happy—Vasiht’h could read it easily in her body language. The words were flippant, but the gift had been a real one. From what Vasiht’h had heard about Liolesa, that was in keeping with the Eldritch Empress… she had a way of seeing what people really wanted. Or thought. Or felt. Not a bad thing in a ruler.
“Can we feed you?” Sediryl said. “Here you are, fresh off the shuttle, and we’re filling your ears instead of your stomachs.”
“It was a long trip,” Vasiht’h said. “I’m not sure we want to sit down again, though…?” He glanced at Kovihs, who shook himself out of his daze.
“Stretching our legs would be good.”
“Perfect,” Sediryl said. “Let’s go then. You have no idea how many amazing places there are to eat here, and every single one of them is prettier than the last. Reese?”
“Everyone told me to keep an eye on you,” Reese said. “No one mentioned it would involve quite this much luxury.”
“Eating out is a luxury?” Kovihs asked her.
“It is when you remember a time when breakfast, lunch, and dinner involved protein bars.”
Kovihs made a face. “Why’d you do that to yourself?”
“Because I was poor as a Martian war orphan,” Reese said. “And nowhere near so lovable. Anyway, where we off to, Sediryl? New place? Old? That food cart yesterday was good…”
“Yesterday is over,” Sediryl said. “New place, always.”
The ‘new place’ was in keeping with the theme of the city, with wide sweeping spaces inside, little by way of furniture, and open walls wherever possible. It felt more like the picnic shelter Vasiht’h had been using on Anseahla to arrange this trip, or maybe a cabana, than a restaurant. They were led across a raised wooden floor to a mat, where their low table was surmounted by a flat grill of broad metal strips. The table itself was more of a frame, or maybe a ledge, for them to set their bowls of bread, because the center of the table was used up by a pit filled with pungent grasses. Vasiht’h bent close to whiff at them as the others chose their pillows; the combination of smells was powerful but not unpleasant: more tangy and astringent than he’d been expecting. It made him think of rolling fields under bright suns.
“So, should we live life dangerously or use the grill guide?” Sediryl asked as a young Ciracaana handed them their menus.
“The grill guide being…?” Vasiht’h asked.
“Supposedly this thing will light up when it’s time to flip things, or remove them.” Sediryl poked the grill experimentally. “I say we ignore it.”
“We might burn the food,” Kovihs observed, but he was grinning.
“Then we eat burnt food,” Reese said. “I’ve had enough of it. The charcoal is good for your stomach.”
Sediryl snickered. “Goddess, it is not. The things you say with a straight face, Reese.”
“All right, maybe the charcoal is a carcinogen but you really can get used to anything.”
Vasiht’h had assumed from the waitstaff that the restaurant was run by Ciracaana, the taller of the two engineered centauroid species. Certainly, the theme felt like something they’d appreciate, with their world of broad plains and the nomadic lifestyle half their number had embraced rather than wander into space. Most of the service staff were Ciracaana, anyway, but… young ones. Which inevitably made him look at the ceiling.
“What are you thinking?” Kovihs asked him after a youth with wild black stripes on his piebald cream-and-rust coat had brought them drinks.
“That the ceilings aren’t high enough for adult Ciracaana.” Vasiht’h laughed. “So… now I have no idea what inspired this place.”
“We can ask?” Reese said, and did the moment the youth returned with their cart of foodstuffs.
“Oh! This place? Run by a Seersa jointly with a Phoenix.” He grinned. “But the Seersa got the idea from her trip to Ciracaa, and the Phoenix likes the open vistas. Just call it a starbase original. A little bit of this, a little bit of that, shake it up, and there you have it!”
“Magic,” Sediryl said. “Now, what do we do with all this food?”
If they started out the meal as a group of uncertain acquaintances, by the end of it they were friends. Unavoidably, because the meal required a great deal of teamwork. The grill was stairstepped, and the grasses varied from one side of the trough to the other, to give the foods cooked over them the opportunity to acquire different flavors. Meat and vegetables moved from one end of the grill to the other as they attempted to rescue them from overcooking—or undercooking—or attempted to decide how they liked them best.
“This,” Kovihs said, fishing a strip of steak out of the pit with the tongs, “is not a restaurant for amateurs.”
“It is a mess, isn’t it?” Reese said, laughing. “Freedom, Sediryl. The things you drag me into.”
“Me?” Sediryl said, beaming. “I don’t drag anyone into anything. I just lead with energy!”
“That’s fine. Energetic leading is what we need.” Reese accepted the dropped meat from Kovihs, who was grimacing at it. “Here, I’ll take that, I like it crispy. So, since none of you are talking I guess I’m going to have to come out and rudely ask exactly what you’re doing here? Are you helping with the shopping? You’re… ah… let me see. Sediryl’s fiancé’s partner, right?”
“That’s right,” Vasiht’h said. “I’m here to see if she’ll find me a single transport for all forty-odd of my relatives, who want to emigrate to Escutcheon.”
“Forty Glaseah!” Reese straightened. “Can I have them? Pretty please? I know just where I could put them!”
Sediryl chortled. “No, arii, you can’t have them. They’re Jahir’s, and unless I miss my guess his mother is going to want to sponsor them into society.”
“Sponsor them into society!” Reese exclaimed. “Like they’re some kind of cotillion of debutantes? Are you making a joke?”
“A… a what?” Kovihs managed weakly.
“Since when do we need to sponsor aliens into society?” Reese added, belligerently. “If Liolesa’s fine with it…”
“My aunt is fine with it,” Sediryl said, unperturbed by her tablemate’s agitation. “But we need to give our enemies more than one target. If there are aliens in more than one place, your husband will worry less about random acts of violence.”
“And you were trying to tell me this was a good idea?” Kovihs said to Vasiht’h, ears flicking back.
“It is a good idea,” Vasiht’h answered, striving for Sediryl’s level of non-concern. It was hard, with his brother-in-law bristling… he had no idea how Sediryl could shrug off Reese’s irritation so casually. “We won’t have a better defender than Jahir’s mom. And Jahir.”
“And you,” Sediryl finished. “Seeing as you are part of Seni Galare.”
“And me,” Vasiht’h agreed. “I’m flattered that you want us, though, Reese-alet.”
“We’re overrun with Tam-illee right now. Not that I don’t love Tam-illee because if you need a generator built or someone’s kidney replaced they are there for you. But their enthusiasm can get overwhelming. And… I’m used to a little more diversity in my day-to-day life.” She eyed Vasiht’h. “Still, if I know Glaseah there are going to be a bunch of you that need work that isn’t churning butter or gardening, so I guess all I have to do is wave my fancy new hospital in front of you all…”
“Hospital?” Kovihs asked, lower shoulders tightening.
Gotcha, Vasiht’h thought smugly, and scooped some of the stuff that looked like jelly onto his strip of steak before rolling it onto another piece of flatbread. It wasn’t jelly—or at least, not a sweet one—and he chewed appreciatively while listening as Kovihs and Reese galloped off into some new conversation having to do with Laisrathera’s hospital, and Laisrathera’s plan for a university, and Laisrathera’s minister of science… “Another Glaseah,” Reese said. “She used to work for a major university—”
He and Sediryl exchanged amused glances over their meal and concentrated on not burning anything else.
This particular restaurant did not offer dessert, but their waiter suggested a local ice cream “event,” known for its whimsy: they were never in the same location from one day to the next. “You have to track them,” he said. “They leave little ice cream cone decals in various places. But it’s the best soft-serve in the city-sphere. Everyone agrees.”
“Maybe that’s the thrill of the hunt talking,” Reese opined as they left. “You only think it’s the best in the city because you had to work so hard for it.”
“I’d think it would be the other way around,” Vasiht’h said. “If you work hard for it and it’s not fantastic, you’re more likely to feel betrayed.”
“Well, I could use a walk after eating that much,” Sediryl said. “So let’s keep a look-out for these decals, and if we don’t find the ice cream, we’ll stop somewhere else.”
“Do you really feel like walking?” Vasiht’h asked as Reese and Kovihs ranged ahead of them, still talking about the as-yet-unrealized university. “Or is this a ploy to throw them together?”
“I always feel like walking,” Sediryl said. “I do my best thinking on the move. But a little more time chatting wouldn’t go amiss for either of them. Reese works well with Glaseah, she had one on her crew. And your brother-in-law needs to hear more about the possibilities on our world. The concrete, in-progress ones, not the nebulous ‘you could help this grand adventure’ ones.” She glanced at him as they strolled side-by-side, quirking a brow at him. “What will you do if he says no again?”
“Then… I’ll have to hope Sehvi will visit a few times a year. But I promised I wouldn’t push. I meant it. If I do, I’ll just create a rift between me and my sister’s family, and I don’t want that. I’d rather have them with me for a few days a year than have them every day, but miserable or angry about it.”
“And what about them?” When Vasiht’h looked up at her, confused, Sediryl said, “Would you rather have your sister’s family with you when they start having fights within their family, or would you rather that happen a few sectors away, where you won’t be able to help in time? Because if I were your sister, arii, and my spouse made me give up one of my dreams for an illusion of safety, it wouldn’t take long for my resentment to start creating serious problems. And that’s without the children straining against the bit.”
Vasiht’h didn’t answer immediately. He jogged alongside Sediryl, whose ‘stroll’ was a lot brisker than Jahir’s, and watched people go by. As he’d guessed, Starbase Ne had a larger Phoenix population than Veta; there were clusters of them among the passersby, their feathers throwing back bright reflections of the artificial sunset coloring the sky bronze and pink. He wondered if they’d had anything to do with the style of the buildings abutting the broad walkway, the ones built into the turf, with their facades grown over with flowers or herbs and windows cut out of the sod. Were there nesting Phoenix who preferred boltholes, or were people like the smiling Karaka’An felid, selling an iced tea through her window, responsible for that? What mix had created the harmony of this city-sphere… and what would the Eldritch world’s result in?
Ahead of them, Reese and Kovihs had joined a knot of people milling around a bench. A family of Hinichi moved away, revealing the chalk drawing of the ice cream cone on its back, tipped so that it pointed in a distinct direction; satisfied, their party resumed walking, and Vasiht’h smiled to see his brother-in-law engaged again, ears up and hands moving as he talked. The thought of him having fights with Sehvi…
“I can’t fix everything,” he said finally. “And I can’t fix their marriage, if it’s going to go badly because they aren’t communicating about something important to them both.”
Sediryl made a noncommittal noise.
“I know it doesn’t sound like a very Glaseah thing to say,” Vasiht’h said. “But I can’t heal the world.”
“Not even the small bits of it that are near you?”
“If they’re on Anseahla when I’m on Escutcheon, arii, it doesn’t matter how close a call makes it seem. It’s not close enough.”
The ice cream was as good as promised, so good that Vasiht’h was sorry Jahir wasn’t there to have some. He paid strict attention to the mint sundae he ordered so he could share his experience of it through the mindline the next time they met: the cold tingle of the peppermint, with the smooth texture of the ice cream, and the dense, soft tufts of whipped cream on top, flavored with something… blackberry, maybe? Very subtle. Vasiht’h scooped it up with curved ‘chips’ of waffle cone and returned to contributing to the discussion once it moved on from universities and medical research. By then it was time to amble back to Sediryl’s penthouse, which they did through a warm evening scented with something that reminded Vasiht’h of cinnamon. Amid the silver lamps set in the terraces, colored lights moved: it wasn’t until one of them zipped past that Vasiht’h realized they were some kind of flying creature, not even the length of his hand.
“Oh those,” Sediryl said, at his exclamation. “We asked. They’re native to Phoenix-Nest, in the coastal areas. They fly like hummingbirds, but look a little like fish.”
“Sharks,” Reese opined, hearing them. “But the cute tiny kind, not the big scary-with-teeth kind.”
“The Phoenix build air gardens to attract them,” Sediryl said. “I don’t know if they think of them as pets, or portable lights, or food, because when you ask they just give you one of those looks. You know?”
“I do,” Vasiht’h said, amused, remembering his few Phoenix clients.
“Anyway, at night they do their sparkle-attract-mates displays.”
“Seems counter-productive,” Kovihs said. “They’d be very obvious at night, and more likely to get snapped up by a predator?”
“Which is why they do it,” Reese said. “Because if you’re good enough to survive the gauntlet, what adorable sharkgirl wouldn’t want you?”
“So these are boy sharks?”
“They’re actually also girl sharks,” Sediryl said, laughing. “But if they get chosen by the more sensible girls, they turn into boys.”
“Because fish are strange,” Reese said.
“The universe is strange, and isn’t that a blessing, because otherwise we’d get bored.” Vasiht’h said as one of the creatures floated past, its luminescent purple trail fading behind it. He blinked his eyes several times to clear the afterimage. “They’re kind of cute… I don’t guess they’d do well on Escutcheon?”
“You are not introducing an alien species to my already broken ecosystem before I can get the agricultural system working.”
Vasiht’h laughed. “All right. Good point.”
On their return, Sediryl showed them to the room where their luggage had been deposited. It faced one of the tremendous views, with an open balcony protected by a mild stasis field to keep insects and wildlife from drifting inside. Standing at the rail, Kovihs looked out over the stair-stepped shadows and lights. “It’s beautiful here. How long are we staying?”
“Oh, I don’t think it’ll take long for Sediryl and I to figure things out,” Vasiht’h said. “That was part of the reason for coming, because some things go faster when you can hammer them out in person. Especially when the person you need to do the hammering with is always on the move. We could probably be on our way tomorrow night, if we want to rush. Though admittedly I’d rather wait until morning to set out on the trip back.”
“That fast!”
“Either she’s got a solution for me or I’m going to have to figure it out on my own,” Vasiht’h said. “Whichever it is, it’s not going to need more than a day. At least, I’m not guessing so.” He started arranging pile of pillows scattered over the floor into a comfortable configuration. “Why, do you want to stay longer?”
“It’s an interesting place.”
“It is,” Vasiht’h said. “And unless I miss my guess, Sediryl and her friend will be making permanent connections here for future trade. This is the closest starbase, I think.”
“There’s at least two sectors between here and the Eldritch homeworld!”
Vasiht’h pictured the map in his head as he eased himself onto the pillows. “You’re thinking about distances like ‘as the bird flies.’ But Omega’s starbase is off on the spinward border of its sector, and Ana’s is way in the coreward corner. This place is in a direct line from the Eldritch homeworld to the Bright Belt worlds, so I’m betting it’s going to be their new staging area for any routes between us and Selnor, or the Doubled Worlds, or… well, any of that stuff.” Vasiht’h gave a little wiggle to make sure none of the pillows were going to shift, then sprawled on them. “Not to say they won’t also establish relationships in those other places. But they’re going to want refueling and waystations between them and the middle of the Core.”
Kovihs sounded… something. His voice was a little too neutral. “You know a lot about galactic affairs all of a sudden."
“I know,” Vasiht’h said, letting himself sound aggrieved. “I would have preferred to learn all this stuff slowly, but that’s a luxury I didn’t get.”
His brother-in-law chuckled. “Well. Your fault for bonding yourself to a planetary prince.”
“Who wasn’t even planning to become one, so if you think my abrupt learning curve is bad, you should sit in on his lessons.” Vasiht’h smiled. “It’s fine. It’ll keep me from getting stale.”
“And that matters…”
Vasiht’h huffed and turned onto his side. “If it’s all the same to you, Kovihs, I’d rather not have every conversation examined for subtext. I’m not secretly implying anything about your choices.”
Now, at least, his brother-in-law was smiling. “Are you sure? I thought this trip was your chance to convince me my choices are stupid.”
Oh, the pain that idle jokes could convey. Vasiht’h touched his breastbone and let none of his sorrow for Kovihs surface in his voice, and thought even Jahir would have approved at how well he succeeded. “I’m glad Sehvi’s not here to hear either of us, because the implication that she’s too dumb to marry a smart man would get us both a beating. And we’d deserve it.”
“Oof, yes.” Kovihs laughed. “You’re absolutely right. You going to bed?”
“I am, yes. It’s been a long day. Traveling makes me tired.”
“All right. I’m going to take a walk.”
“Enjoy it,” Vasiht’h said with a yawn, and tucked himself deeper in his cocoon of pillows to sleep. One more day to let Kovihs simmer… would it work? Hopefully it would be enough.