11

‡

Llyn had fretted when Director Graybill of the Rift Station Internment Facility called her into his office. She’d been the first inmate of her age group to drop out of the ongoing Z-ball tournament, and the athletic director predicted dire consequences.

As she walked down a long, echoing hall to be chastised, she marveled that she’d only been here two weeks. Station routines already felt natural. An Outwatcher had informed the inmates that their incarceration served two purposes: it underscored Antaran security while preventing violence against Tdegans living on Antar. There had already been three unpublicized incidents. Built as a boarding school, the Rift Station facility lay far south of Lengle inside the Rift city dome. Llyn found herself living with several hundred mostly long-faced, black-haired strangers who wore odd, snug clothing. She’d gotten used to their appearance in an amazingly short time. Now she surreptitiously stitched tucks into her culottes when Karine left the room. Karine hadn’t commented—yet.

Llyn sat down in Director Graybill’s office and braced herself, but Director Graybill didn’t allude to the Z-ball tournament. He asked instead about her room, her bed, and her reaction to Rift Station food. “So you’re reasonably comfortable?” he asked, leaning away from his monitor.

No noise penetrated this office. Llyn wondered if it had been soundproofed. On a sturdy metal table at one end of Director Graybill’s desk, bubbles cascaded upward in a reverse waterfall at the back of a long aquarium. Colorful fish swam laps around bulbous plants. Watching them was oddly calming.

She shrugged. “If I had one wish …”

“Yes?”

She felt as if she were blushing. “It’s just that my … mother has nothing to do but supervise me. One hundred percent of the time.” She wondered how Niklo was coping in his temporary housing on the outskirts of Nuris’s ruins. He probably had found work rebuilding the city.

“Let’s talk about your mother.” The supervisor swung a leg. “How is she coping with life here?”

“Well,” Llyn said, “she’s used to running a clinic. She calls up to Lengle every day. She checks on her patients, authorizes prescriptions, and gives Elroy orders—he’s her assistant—but that doesn’t take much time.”

“The sheepdog has lost her flock.”

Llyn knew that fable. She smiled.

“I understand that she covers her clinic business when you are in class.”

“Yes, or down at the gym.” Those were the only two places Karine never followed. Llyn had made friends, despite her standout clothing and natural shyness. Last week, standing along sidelines watching stronger, more talented and dexterous kids impress each other at three-dimensional Z-ball, Llyn had found Ilke and Tana. Before the war, she, Ilke, and Tana would have had little in common. Here, they were fellow outcasts, bonded by the others’ disdain and a few common interests.

Z-ball had too many rules, and it required too much strength and speed. Any time the coach had rotated Llyn into the game, an opposing team member “accidentally” grazed her with the shimmering ball. That stung. Her skills improved quickly, and she’d learned to find satisfaction in that instead of the competitive element, but she’d decided that she preferred the familiar exercise machines over last-place honors in team sports. Immediately after she quit, Ilke and Tana quit, too.

She shrugged at Director Graybill.

“You were complimented on the record by your history instructor yesterday,” he said. “Did he forward the printout?”

Llyn stared at the floor, a complex geometric mosaic that repeated three and a half times per meter. “Yes.” She’d helped smooth an argument between two other students.

“You don’t look happy about it.”

“Oh, it was nice.” She had so few possessions here. That printout would’ve carried her spirits for a while. “But Karine put it down the recycle chute.”

He uncrossed his legs. “I don’t believe that.”

She probably shouldn’t say this, but she couldn’t resist. “Then you don’t know Karine. Every time I get praised by someone else, she makes sure that I understand it doesn’t count.”

The director didn’t answer immediately. Like Karine’s, his face was shorter and more square than most of the inmates’—including her own.

“Maybe I don’t,” he said, “but I think she overstepped. That note was yours, not hers. I would be glad to ask your instructor to write you another.”

“Not necessary.” Llyn sighed. “But thank you.”

Another long pause settled.

“Our schedule is different from what you’re accustomed to.” Director Graybill leaned back against his desk chair. Obviously, he was trying to draw her out. Get her talking. She wondered what he was up to, really.

“I’m learning the lines.”

“Tell me about your classmates.” His vocal tone changed from compassionate to administrative.

Oh. He wanted information. Would her new friends call her an informer? Yet her loyalty lay with Antar, not Tdega. And neither Ilke nor Tana was a subversive. “Well,” she said, “living with an empath, I’ve learned to be honest about my own feelings. This is the first place I’ve had to deal with emotional waffling.”

“Oh?”

“Take Carmine.”

He shook his head, but he leaned slightly toward her.

“Seventeen. Slender. Popular. I don’t know her mater—wait. All Tdegans have paternames.” Antaran women carried their mothers’ names, men their fathers’ names.

“Slender … oh, yes. Her.”

“She feels terribly inferior. She’s trying to cover it with social conquests. She has half the boys panting after her.”

He barely smiled. “Are you an empath, Llyn?”

“Of course not.” She bristled. “But I see and hear. I read people’s voices very well.”

“Hm.” Director Graybill steepled his fingers. “Medic Torfinn tells me you’re socially immature. How is it that you see and hear so much?”

“Hearing is my gift. It’s all I had for years. And Karine doesn’t see that I’ve grown up.”

“She is your legal guardian for one more year.” His tone sounded … disdainful? Cautionary? “That may be why Regent Salbari approved her request to come with you.”

“I wish he hadn’t. Don’t tell her so. Please.” Was she saying too much?

“We have had other communication with Regent Salbari regarding Medic Torfinn.” That tone was definitely amused. “I will not say more.”

“You’d better not. She’ll know if you do.”

“I know.” He eyed her and added, “What is it like, living with an empath?”

Disarmed, she dropped her defenses. “This is the first time I’ve lived with ordinary people. I like them.”

He smiled sadly.

* * *

Dismissed by Director Graybill, Llyn was directed to return to the room she shared with Karine. She walked back up a long hallway with windows on one side and classroom doors on the other.

Voices echoed behind her. “Llyn! Wait!”

She spun around and saw her two friends—what a beautiful sight! Ilke grinned under a set of bangs that almost covered her eyes. Tana wore a long, black braid over her shoulder, and even her shouting voice was sweet and lyrical. Both were younger than Llyn, but each had a tangible sparkle. Llyn liked being around happy people.

“Let’s get something to sip on,” Ilke puffed. “You can tell us what the Big Man called you out of class for.”

Llyn twisted her mouth sideways. “He just wanted to know what it was like, living with Karine. So he said.”

Tana wrinkled her nose. “I bet you told him plenty.”

“Enough. But I still have to live with her.”

Classes had ended ten minutes ago, and the crowded cafeteria hummed with conversations. Llyn and her friends helped themselves to bottled synthetic juice. Roughened baffles along two cafeteria walls and its ceiling were obviously designed to deaden sound, but the huge room also had two walls made of glass. One overlooked station grounds, and the other lined the long hallway. Sound waves bounced around in here almost as freely as in the inner world.

Silverware and glasses clinked without affecting her. Llyn had suspected that Karine made too much of environmental noises. Now she was certain. The flashbacks, she guessed, had been partly due to her consciousness of “control music”—and partly her involuntary attempts to escape the constant stresses that Karine piled on her.

So in a way, Karine was right. If she ruled Llyn’s environment, there could be no music in it.

But Karine’s unlimited time to supervise was the only unbearable thing about this glorified prison. Rift Station’s food gave Llyn a dozen new pleasures to anticipate, and although others complained there was too little to eat, Llyn had gained weight. She also enjoyed the classrooms, theater, and potentially endless conversations.

Llyn’s group was just claiming a corner table, far from the in-group’s social games, when Karine hustled through a door close to the serving area. Llyn groaned. “How does she know?”

“What is it?” Ilke spun on her bench to face the door. “Oh. Mind-mama.”

Llyn gulped her juice.

“Wonder what she wants.” Tana flung her braid over her shoulder.

“She probably found out from the Director that our interview was over.” Karine was always spiriting Llyn away from her friends.

But that gave them one more common enemy. Karine rounded out a set that took in Director Graybill, several hall monitors, and—especially—the food service supervisor, a stereotypically overweight woman who bossed the inmates’ weekly duty shifts as if she really thought they were prisoners.

Karine walked directly to the girls’ table, picking Llyn out of the crowd as easily as if she wore a projector. “Hello,” she said to Ilke and Tana. “Llyn, come with me. Quickly.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Come with me. I’ll explain as we go.”

Sighing, and then smiling at herself for picking up the younger girls’ mannerisms, Llyn slid off the bench. She followed Karine up the hallway.

Karine held open the double door at the women’s wing. “What is it?” Llyn asked.

“Come on.” Karine didn’t decelerate until their room door closed behind them. They’d been assigned a standard bedroom-and-personal unit far down the hallway. Outside their two windows were broad plains and a tall metal fence. Karine had claimed the bed near the windows, promising to trade eventually. The beds were mounted to metal corner posts and could be raised almost to ceiling level. At the moment, Karine’s was up but Llyn’s was still down. She sat on it.

Karine flicked the portable multinet terminal she’d been granted by Director Graybill. “I had a communication from Regent Salbari.” Her tone reminded Llyn of the clinic at Lengle: Karine Torfinn, in charge. Karine Torfinn, passing down vital information.

Llyn leaned back on both arms. She had been awed to learn that kindly Regent Salbari had abruptly become the most powerful man in Concord space. She hadn’t told Ilke or Tana she’d met him. The Tdegan girls called him a monster, and Llyn kept her mouth shut when they did, although it made her feel guilty. “What did he say?”

“He sends greetings—”

“Of course.”

Karine glowered. “And an update on the current situation, if you’d like to hear it.”

“I’m sorry. I interrupted.” Karine rarely passed on snippets of inside information anymore. Whenever she did, Llyn assumed that she needed to feel superior, like a giver of good gifts.

“Regent Salbari tried to contact Ilzar and offer the Concord’s aid, but they’re not responding. Using Gate beacons, they could have called back ten days ago.”

“From that, we assume they don’t want to answer.”

“Incorrect. We assume that they can’t. Regent Salbari suspects that Tdega landed a military occupation force there. He also tried contacting Sunsis A. There’s a settlement at each pole. Neither responded.”

“What’s he going to do?”

“There’s a Conclave in two days.” Karine stood rearranging toiletries on her desktop. Llyn had seen her do that under pressure.

“What was the rush to get back here?” Llyn asked.

Karine turned around and sat down on the edge of the student desk. “Over my orders,” she said, “they’re going to run Jink Band in the hallways.”

Llyn had heard about that program from Ilke. Jink Band was a three-dimensional music vid. It occupied space—you could dance with a projected partner or sing with the band, as you chose—without view-glasses. E-net service was marginal since the attack, but enough programs had been recorded on private sets to reconstruct almost a year’s worth of programming. This was according to Ilke.

“Oh?” Llyn asked. She didn’t hope Karine would let her participate, since AR and music both were forbidden.

“Evidently the staff is concerned about those rowdy young people who like to lounge in the cafeteria. They’ve chosen three children to select episodes and two teachers to screen them. They’re also going to play soft-tonal almost constantly in all bedrooms.”

Ilke didn’t think much of soft-tonal. She’d called it a relaxation channel for old folks. “Well?” Llyn glanced dubiously at a black membrane speaker mounted high on a wall. “Will our speakers—”

“They’re more worried about controlling Tdegan troublemakers than they are concerned with your mental health. You’re obviously not a troublemaker. So those are turned off. For your sake, of course.”

Llyn had to speak up. “But you know I experimented while Niklo was missing. If more than two parts are playing, somehow it doesn’t—”

“They are off,” Karine repeated, “and they’re going to stay off. And unfortunately, this means that you and I must stay in.”

“In?” Startled, Llyn stared at her not-mother. “You don’t mean in this room, do you?”

“Meals will be sent down.”

Seriously? Had Director Graybill known this was coming? Was this why he’d wanted to interview her today—to find out how she had adjusted to previous circumstances? “That’s not fair!” Llyn exclaimed. “No classes? No workouts?”

Karine shook her head. “We are temporary residents, and you’re vulnerable during an episode. There are people at this facility who might take unfair advantage of you. You’re already a target because of your clothing.”

She had friends out there. How would she survive without them? “I could change my clothing. This isn’t fair.”

“We can do floor exercises together in here. We’ll raise the beds—”

Llyn groaned. Karine was going to suffocate her!

“All right,” Karine snapped. “You can turn back into a stick. You were starting to build a little muscle.”

Karine had never complimented her on working out. Only now, when she could turn it into criticism, did she acknowledge that she had even noticed.

“Maybe we won’t have to stay in here.” Llyn said it aloud, since Karine would know what she was planning anyway. She sat down at her desk, put on her view-glasses, and dictated a message to Director Graybill. “Wish to protest confinement,” she told the VTT recorder. “Have experimented. Harmonized music seems okay.” She added a few details and pushed the SEND button.

Karine went on straightening her toiletries. “He’s expecting to hear from you,” she said mildly. “You’ll get a quick answer.”

This meant Karine had already spoken with him. Before or after her own interview?

Llyn was turning away when her answer appeared: “Karine is in charge of your welfare, Llyn. I’m sorry.”

Llyn stared at the screen, feeling heavy and old. She couldn’t bear to turn around and see satisfaction in Karine’s narrow eyes.

Late that night, she lay thinking. Learning she was Tdegan hadn’t settled her yearning for significance. She needed to know who she was, not who her parents had been.

Abruptly, she sat up with a chill realization. The more miserable Llyn became at Rift Station, the sooner Karine might expect Filip Salbari to release them out of compassion. Consciously or unconsciously, Karine was pushing Llyn into the most intolerable situation she could create.

What if Head Regent Salbari didn’t do what Karine Torfinn wanted? How much more miserable could Karine make her?

“What is it?” Karine mumbled out of the darkness.

“Nothing.” Startled and indignant—not even her thoughts were private with Karine this close!—Llyn tried to blank her mind and stifle her frustration. “Nothing,” she repeated. “Go back to sleep.”