The Sardonyx Net Part 39

Zed said, "I know what it is."

Yianni stared at him, perplexed. "Well, out with it!"

Zed drew a breath. Oh, h.e.l.l, he thought. "Better sit down first," he said grimly. He told it clinically, as he had told very few people -- not even Sai Thomas, who would have listened and tried to understand. Jo Leiakanawa knew. So, of course, did his victims. And there were two telepaths who knew, on Nexus.

Yianni listened. He kept his eyes on Zed's face. At one or two points he grew a little white about the mouth. When Zed finished, Yianni cleared his throat.

Zed said, "You don't have to say anything."

Yianni said, "I do." There were tears in his eyes. "I -- oh, mother, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you speak." He rose. "I'll go."

"Wait," Zed said. He stepped forward, not knowing himself why he made the request. Yianni waited. Zed reached out with his right hand, the good hand.

Yianni straightened, a lift of the shoulders; he was steeling himself. Gently Zed touched his cheek. It was rough with a day's beard.

"Don't apologize," he said. "It was right. I needed it. Thank you -- though I warn you, I may never be able to look at you again. But you're going to be a fine medic, I can see that. And if things had been different, you would have made a fine friend."

*Chapter Seventeen*

The next morning there were dark shadows beneath Zed's eyes.

Rhani noted them when he came to her room to give her his morning greeting. "Zed-ka," she said, holding out both hands. He mirrored her. She had forgotten about the bandage on his left hand and the sight of it gave her a small shock. He kissed her cheek.

"Good morning," he said.

Something was wrong with him. She watched him circ.u.mnavigate the room. He ended up by the window. He lifted the drape, frowned, let it drop. It's odd, she thought; I pace to order my thoughts, Zed paces when he doesn't want to think, or at least, to speak. "Now it's my turn to ask you," she said, gently teasing.

"Did you sleep?"

"Not very well." He made another restless circuit of the room, again stopping at the window. "Rhani -- " he paused. It was not like Zed to start something, even a sentence, and not finish it. "Rhani, I want to go to the estate."

For a moment, she thought nothing, nothing at all. Then she thought: It's come then. She had been braiding her hair at his entrance; now, remembering, she felt behind her head for the braid. It had loosened. She pulled the thick strands tight and wrapped a sequined elastic band around the end. Zed was a blocky shadow against the window drape. "What will you do there?" she asked.

He said, "Walk in the garden. Read. Sleep."

"How will you get there?"

"Rent one of the bubbles from the landingport."

She imagined him walking across the lush garden lawn. I wish I could go too, she thought. I hate being here, in a house not my own. We could go back together, the four of us, Dana and Corrios too. Timithos would be glad to see us.... She remembered that she had not spoken with Cara and Immeld, though she had told Nialle to call and rea.s.sure them.

"Rhani? May I go?"

Zed's voice recalled her. She gazed at him across the pink room. "Go,"

she said. "You need it. If I need to talk with you, I'll call you. And please, Zedka -- " she remembered what Binkie -- Ramas -- had said, that Michel A-Rae hated him. "Please be alert." "If I see any bubbles without markings coming toward me, I'll turn around and come back."

They hugged. His mouth tasted of sesame. Rhani thought, He breakfasted already. Probably he is already packed, not that he has much to take with him.

She wondered what had occurred between last evening and this morning to disturb him.

She would _not_ ask him about Darien Riis.

Nialle had sorted through her mail but had tactfully not opened anything: she was, after all, a borrowed secretary, her wage paid by Family Kyneth. Rhani went to the tray of mail. Most of the letters were sympathy notes, more variations on an inevitable theme. One was a communication from Christina Wu which said, tersely, "_Obviously our appointment must be postponed. I am sorry about your house. Call me_."

Rhani frowned. She had forgotten that she had an appointment with Christina for the morning of the party -- which, she thought ironically, would have been today. That was what she needed a secretary for, to remind her of such things. Binkie would have remembered.... Her hands clenched, and the thick notepaper creased. She did not want to remember Binkie.

Nialle came in. "Good morning, Dom -- Rhani-ka."

Rhani smiled at her. "Good morning. Thank you for sorting my mail."

"It's my job, Rhani-ka," the secretary said.

"I know. But I appreciate it. Would you be so kind as to connect me with Christina Wu's office. I'd like to speak with her, if she's free."

"Certainly, Rhani-ka." Nialle pulled the com-unit from the wall and sat in the plastic chair. "There is a call here for you, Rhani-ka," she said.

"From whom?"

"From Domni Ferris Dur."

Ferris.... Rhani sighed. She knew what he would say. He would offer his sympathies upon her loss of her house, and whine because instead of coming to him she had chosen to shelter with the Kyneths. He would then ask her how the contract arrangements were proceeding. As if she did not have other things on her mind! Ah, well. She had said she would marry him, and she would, there were good reasons to do it.... At least, she thought, marriage no longer carries with it the certainty of a s.e.xual relations.h.i.+p.

Nialle said, "Domna Rhani, I have Advocate Wu online."

Rhani went to the screen. "Christina," she said to the small woman with the heart-shaped face who gazed at her, "you could have called me back."

"Don't be ridiculous," the lawyer said briskly. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Don't you read the PINsheets?"

Christina grimaced eloquently. "Never," she said, "when I can help it."

She grinned rakishly out of the screen. "I a.s.sume you made an appointment because you wanted to see me about something important; if it had been trivial, you would have dropped me a note. Would you like to make it tomorrow? I have time." Her eyepatch glittered. She had lost one eye in a freak accident some years back. The damage was reparable but the surgery had left scars, and she had chosen to cover the eye rather than display it. Today's patch was shaped like a blue b.u.t.terfly.

Rhani was touched by the offer; she knew how much in demand Christina's abilities were. She also knew that little went on in Abanat that Christina Wu was unaware of. "Thank you, Christina," she said. "What time?"

Christina flapped a hand. "Let our secretaries arrange that." She blanked the display. Nialle looked at Rhani inquiringly.

"Rhani-ka, do you have a preference?"

"No," Rhani said. "Make it to Christina's convenience. And when you have finished that, please connect me with Domni Ferris Dur." A slave answered the call to Dur House. Rhani heard him say, "One moment, please, while I transfer the call downstairs." There was a pause, and then Nialle was beckoning to her.

"Domna, Domni Ferris is online."

"Thank you, Nialle," Rhani said. Tactfully, Nialle went out the door.

Ferris was glaring at her from the screen. Behind him, where she expected to see the ugly, heavy furnis.h.i.+ngs of the study, she saw boxes and coa.r.s.e draperies. It looked like a warehouse.

"Why didn't you call before?" Ferris was saying petulantly. He plucked hard at a sleeve. "I was worried about you!"

It was on the tip of Rhani's tongue to tell him that they were not married yet, and that under no circ.u.mstances, married or not, was he ever to think he had the right to call her to account.

But she could see from his face and from the state of his clothes that he meant what he said -- he _had_ been worried for her. So she said only, "I'm sorry, Ferris. I've been doing very little."

"Of course, I understand," he said, mollified. "I just wish -- that you had come here. There's as much room here as at the Kyneth house, and we are -- I mean -- this is -- " He halted, confused. And with surprising dignity, said, "This is your house, Rhani. I want you to believe that."

"Thank you, Ferris," Rhani said, gently, although she had no intention of ever living in Dur House. The ghost of Domna Sam would haunt me, she thought.

"I was wondering, Rhani," he said diffidently, "do you plan to rebuild the house?"

"I do." She would -- though it would be quite different from the house Lisa Yago had commissioned. For one thing, she thought, I'd like a house all on one floor, maybe even with sunken rooms.

"Good," he said. "Then I may be able to help you."

She gazed curiously at him. She had never heard Ferris speak with such confidence about anything. She said, "I hope you may, Ferris."

He grinned. "You'll see," he said, "I will. How are your lawyers doing with the contract drafts?"

She said, "Ferris, don't push me."

He retreated at once. "I beg your pardon."

Once again she was conscious of his unhappiness. Somewhere in the core of him was a wound, or a place that had never grown and still retained a child's defenselessness.... To ease him, she said, "Ferris, might I call upon you to do me a favor?"

He said, "Of course," and his fingers ceased twisting the silken ta.s.sels of his gown.

"The Dur Family has extensive contacts throughout Abanat, I'm sure," she said. Ferris nodded proudly. "Would you instruct them, through whatever channels you use, to be alert for the appearance of Michel A-Rae?"

"Surely. And if he is found, I suppose you would like to be notified _before_ the Abanat police?"

"Precisely," she said, and thought: That's something Domna Sam might have done! "My thanks."

"I am glad to do it," Ferris said. "And -- Rhani -- " he fumbled into a sentence -- "I am sorry for anything I might have done the last time you were at my house -- "

"I have already forgotten it," Rhani said. "Good day, Ferris. I'll call you." Putting the unit on hold, she said loudly, "Thank you, Nialle." Nialle entered, with Dana at her back. He was wearing blue velvet, and she found herself thinking, in painful imitation of Charity Diamos: Oh, my dear, Rhani Yago certainly clothes that handsome young slave _well_....

She nodded to him, conscious of Nialle's solid presence in the room. He bowed, said, "Good morning, Rhani-ka," and handed her a letter. It was from Corrios. He was resigning.

"How did you get this?" she asked.

"He gave it to me," Dana said.

"Do you know what's in it?" Dana shook his head. She pa.s.sed it to him.

"Go ahead, read it." As he did, she heard the phrases of the note in her mind -- "many years' service ... appreciate your trust..." She felt as if a piece of her childhood had just crumbled to dust, leaving a gaping hole in what she had thought was a st.u.r.dy edifice.

"Will you accept it?" Dana asked.

"Of course." She took the letter back, wondering where Corrios would go.

The letter said he wanted to leave Chabad. Perhaps he would find some gray planet, some world where it was always twilight, cloud, and mist, where the sun hid, not the people, where he could walk in the light without sunscreen and shades. Was there such a world? she thought. Dana might know.

She pa.s.sed the letter to Nialle Hamish. "Please arrange for a bonus of three thousand credits to be paid to Corrios Rull, and tell him that Family Yago will pay his transportation costs to anyplace, in or out of sector."

"Yes, Rhani-ka," Nialle said. She took the letter. "About the party -- "

"Yes?" Rhani said.

"I took the liberty of extracting the list of acceptees from the records of the computer. Do you want me to write to them and cancel the event?"

"Sweet mother," Rhani said, "they'll know by now, won't they?" Nialle's bland face looked mildly surprised. "Oh, I suppose that's a good idea. Yes, do that, but send the cancellations through the computer net, Nialle. There's no reason for those letters to be calligraphed."

"Certainly, Rhani-ka."

Dana was watching her. She wondered what he was thinking. She wondered if there was a room in this big house where they could hide, and make love, and not be disturbed.... "My brother is returning to the estate today," she said. His shoulders lifted at the first two words, and fell with relief after she said the rest.

"Will we be going anywhere today, Rhani-ka?" he said. He is pretending, she thought, amused, to be the utterly obedient slave.

"I don't know yet," she said. "Possibly. I will call you." He bowed and went to the door. She wondered what he would do until she called him. Read? The house had books enough. Listen to music? She recalled, suddenly, Binkie's hateful words: "_I was invisible, a thing, a machine that turned itself off when you didn't need it_...." No! she thought. I don't do that. I won't do that.

She glanced at Nialle. The secretary was bent over the com-unit, instructing the computer to send the notice of the Yago party's cancellation to a list of addresses. Quietly, Rhani walked into the bathroom. Light from the stained-gla.s.s windows patterned her flesh as she opened all the cabinets until she found the room's medikit. Trust Aliza Kyneth to put a medikit in every room, she thought. She looked through it for the meter she knew was there. Finally she found it, took it from its protective case, and stuck it under her tongue. Sense told her that even if she had conceived, it was too soon for the meter to register the changes in her mucus and saliva -- but she needed to check.

Impatiently she waited one minute and then pulled it from her mouth and gazed at the bulb. If she was pregnant, it would be orange.

It was pale pink, its usual color.

Was.h.i.+ng the meter, she returned it to its case and closed the medikit.

Odd -- she was impatient now for it to happen. Yet she was young for pregnancy, for a Yago, and she ought -- according to Family tradition -- to be feeling intruded upon, resentful, apprehensive, or at least indifferent. Maybe it had something to do with age, she thought. Maybe her mother, and her grandmother, and her great-grandmother should have had children early, instead of doing what had become the Family custom and extending artificially the period of fertility. She gazed into the gold-framed mirror, seeing through her own image the smaller image of a girl's, a girl with red-gold hair and a solemn face.... Sweet mother, she thought, with a sharp, intense hurt that was purely of the heart, if my mother had borne me at thirty, even forty, she might have loved me, _wanted_ me, instead of seeing me as the rival who would inevitably wrest her power from her....

Over Chabad's landscape, Zed pushed the bubble to its top speed. The ground unrolled beneath him. For once there was no solace in the flight, the solitude, the instantaneous obedience of the machine. He wanted to be home. His sandals were dusty with the ashes of the Abanat house. Home was a green circle on an arid hillside; home was the estate.

He had called ahead from the little landingport to tell Cara that he was returning early and alone, and that Rhani would follow with Dana as soon as she could. "Yes, Zed-ka," she said, and then said, "Excuse me, Zed-ka, but you should -- " but he had blanked the screen. It was rude, but he had not wanted to wait.

As he came over the grounds to the hangar he saw Timithos waving a broad arm, and the red flash amid the bushes of one of the dragoncats. His heart rejoiced. He dropped the bubble into the hangar and hurried to the house. Cara was downstairs. She said primly, "Welcome back, Zed-ka."

He smiled at her. "Thank you, Cara."

Immeld strolled from the kitchen. "Zed-ka," she said, "I made egg tarts."

Zed grinned. He was almost surfeited with egg tarts. Not quite. "Thank you, Immeld," he said. He heard her saying something else but he was already past her, going up the stairs. It felt strange to be coming back without Rhani, without luggage, medikit, ice climbing equipment -- his personal metaphors of permanence. He walked into his room. Everything was polished and tidy. The skeleton hung in its corner. Zed slid a hand along its scapula, and grinned at his shelf of booktapes. In the silence of the next few days, before Rhani came home, he might indeed have some time to rest, even to read.