Trader's Leap (Liaden Universe Book 23)

by Sharon Lee

  It took Padi a moment to realize that Lina meant which of the norbears had dreamed faces at her.

  “Lady Selph.”

  “Ah. You are in the care of an expert. Lady Selph is quite elderly, and was well-traveled before she came into the service of your grandfather. No doubt you will learn much from her.”

  Padi frowned slightly, and moved a shoulder in slight confusion.

  “She may be beyond me,” she said ruefully.

  “Oh? What was her opening?”

  “Paizel—a cat from home—and another, Fondi. Then, a cat I didn’t know—dark ears and stripes. Then Father, though I think Lady Selph thought he was Jeeves. Then Jeeves, Aunt Anthora, and Aunt Nova, Uncle Val Con, Uncle Ren Zel, Grandfather Er Thom and Grandmother Anne . . . ”

  Lina was nodding.

  “In my experience, the usual progression of norbear communication is from near to far. Aside the striped cat, did she show you anyone you did not know?”

  “Yes. A . . . stranger; someone I had certainly never seen—and very unnerving, too. Quite ferocious.”

  “Ah. And who else, beyond this stranger?”

  Padi shook her head.

  “No one. I was, as I said, unnerved, and I pushed the . . . person . . . away, whereupon I . . . woke up . . . ”

  It occurred to her now that she had not so much woken up as shattered a delicate rapport with a master of her craft, in mid working.

  “Well,” she added. “After that, Lady Selph wished to return to the enclosure. I suspect I had been rude. I picked up each of the others, but no one of them cared to . . . share. Then the hour turned.”

  “Well, then, Lady Selph will dream with her cuddle. Do not doubt she will have more matches for you to make, when next you meet. She has apparently determined to take you in paw, and—I will not hide the worst from you—she is a very determined person.”

  “So, she’ll Sort me properly?” Padi asked, with some irony.

  Lina didn’t even blink.

  “It is not impossible that she will succeed where others have not. She is, as I said, quite old, and not accustomed to putting up with impertinence.”

  Padi sighed, and was about to put another question regarding this Sorting out, but Lina at that moment brought her palms lightly together, saying briskly:

  “Now, if you please! Let us work on your shields!”

  There were letters in-queue, according to the light on the comm screen. Shan crossed to the wine table, pouring a glass of the red more out of habit than desire, and carried it with him to the desk.

  Possibly, he thought, as he put the glass down and settled into his chair, there was a letter from Janifer Carresens-Denobli. He was becoming quite anxious for word from that trader . . .

  He touched the screen . . .

  Messages in-queue, indeed.

  In fact, three messages in-queue, arrived within moments of each other.

  One letter from his delm.

  One letter from Security Officer Jeeves.

  One letter from his brother Val Con.

  Shan leaned forward and tapped open the letter from Val Con.

  Brother of my heart, I greet you with all joy.

  I will first do brother’s duty and save you the necessity of scolding me. Freely I admit that I ought to have written sooner. Indeed, I had on several occasions wished to do so. My poor excuse is that, while they fill our days and hours, news of committee meetings, weather calculations, and social experimentation could hardly arrest your interest, engaged as you are in establishing the clan’s future.

  However, I no longer have the excuse of being dull, for much has happened of which you must be made aware.

  There is news of kin.

  Firstly, our sister Anthora has conceived a child with her lifemate Ren Zel.

  Secondly, Anthora and our brother Ren Zel have taken injury in a desperate venture to preserve the universe as we know it. For long minutes, we feared that Ren Zel had given himself in Balance, but matters were not so dire as that. They are together with the Healers as I write this. I cannot say what outcome may be given us, but they are alive, and know themselves. Anthora was not at the front, and Ren Zel’s memory of the event is unsteady. Indeed, I fear it has abandoned him utterly, so we may never have the whole tale. Suffice us that the universe continues, or so I take leave to believe.

  Line yos’Phelium rejoices in a new daughter—Tocohl Lorlin, Jeeves’s heir by his own devising. On that head, a warning—he chose for her the voice of our mother, which gave me pause on first hearing. On questioning, he would have it that he had observed Mother’s voice to have been remarkably soothing to any who heard it, which is certainly true. Given the task the delm put on her, mere hours after her birth, supplying Tocohl with such a weapon as Mother’s voice can only be seen as prudence on the part of a caring parent.

  You will, I know, be gratified to learn that our young cousins Kor Vid yos’Phelium and Daaneka tey’Doshi have returned from their negotiations with our good Uncle. They arrive, alas, shipless, and have petitioned the delm for a courier class. I believe the delm is disposed to grant that petition, but has required them both to submit to licensing tests.

  yos’Phelium also rejoices in the return of our cousin Jen Sin, whom we had long thought lost.

  Shan tapped the screen.

  “Jen Sin yos’Phelium is dead,” he informed the empty air. “Two hundred Standards dead.”

  The air vouchsafed no reply, which Shan supposed was just as well. Val Con’s letter was upsetting enough. Uncle Daav and Aunt Aelli returned? Well, that was expectable, even necessary, given their situation, which, the last time Shan had seen them, was that each was resident as their own person inside Uncle Daav’s head, Aunt Aelli having been so careless as to have mislain hers two dozen Standards ago. Only now there were new names, and a new license required from each . . .

  Which could only mean that our good Uncle had somehow separated them out of Daav’s head, and into . . . young cousins. Clones. Clones grown by the puppetmaster of the universe, for his own use, generously given instead to needy Korval pilots.

  Clones, so Shan strongly suspected, were not cheap commodities. One was therefore compelled to wonder what our good Uncle might call as Balance for such sweet courtesy.

  He shivered and reached for his wine.

  Truly, set alongside the return of the clan’s elders as young cousins, the other points of Val Con’s letter hardly held luster—no, wait. Anthora stricken in her powers, and Ren Zel, too? Between them, they had the potential to unmake the universe—or to preserve it. The latter had apparently been Ren Zel’s choosing, gentle lad that he was. One hesitated to predict what the outcome might have been, had the choice fallen to Anthora.

  Send that the trauma had not harmed the babe—the Healers would do their most for all, of course.

  He sipped his wine, and put the glass down.

  Well. Best see what other news his brother had sent him.

  He tapped the screen again.

  We have the felicity of receiving Theo, her ship, and her crew; Norbear Ambassador Hevelin; two Pathfinders from the Old Universe, who had fallen behind during the removal; and Spiral Dance, intact, piloted by a small, but one fears strong-minded, Tree.

  I would not have you think that Theo returned to us in response to the entreaties of a worried brother. Nothing like! In keeping with the tradition of her House, she came because she was in a scrape. Also, she had some notion that Scout Commander yos’Phelium might be of use to her.

  Which, I fear, he was. You will know more, and of course be properly horrified, when you read the delm’s letter.

  Nova prospers in the city, as Boss Conrad’s administrator and a Boss in her own right. My Aunt Kareen is also located in the city, where she is deeply engaged in a task assigned by the delm: to produce a Surebleak Code acceptable to the native and the immigrant populations.

  Past the news of kin, there are one or two other items which you may find amusing.

 
The survey team from TerraTrade is with us, and very thorough they are. One of their number holds the opinions expressed so eloquently in news sources such as Taggerth’s, but the team leader swears they are committed to an objective study.

  The delm will doubtless enlarge upon this theme, but I feel it is a brother’s duty to inform you that the clan has very recently acquired a space station. It is said to be in good general repair, though the keepers—of which my cousin Jen Sin signs himself chief—provide a list of desirable upgrades to bring it into modern times.

  Talizea your niece my daughter grows wiser and more beautiful every day—which my lifemate pronounces a father’s partiality, and further states that I am wrapt ’round Lizzie’s fingers. I object to this, on condition that I had already been wrapt thoroughly ’round her mother’s fingers.

  Now, there is the news, as succinct as you might wish it, and you may now read the delm’s letter with some degree of comprehension.

  Miri sends her love, and desires you to return to us as quickly as may be. In fact, she goes so far to declare that she misses you, and Priscilla, often. She says of Padi that she will soon find a new route for herself. Miri does occasionally Dream True, and there had seemed a certain weight to this last. Make of it what you will.

  As you have long held my heart, there is no need for further discourse on that head. Come back to us when you may, and take what care you might.

  Val Con

  P.S. I had nearly forgot. Lady yo’Lanna, finding herself temporarily bereft of handwork, has announced her intention of traveling, with her household, to Surebleak, in the very near future.

  Shan shouted aloud with laughter.

  “It needed only that! Forgot, is it? Wretch.”

  The door chimed through his hilarity. In fact, he was still grinning broadly when Padi entered the office and paused, head tipped slightly to one side.

  “Is there something amusing?” she asked.

  “Only your uncle Val Con coming the clown,” he told her. “Please, serve yourself.”

  He scanned the letter again while she poured out a glass of tea, and settled into the chair across the desk.

  “There is news of kin,” he said. “Your aunt Anthora and Uncle Ren Zel have put themselves in the path of disaster. Both took blows to their talents and are with the Healers. Also, they have between them conceived a child.”

  Padi bit her lip. “We seem to be traveling parallel paths.”

  “There is a certain similarity, isn’t there?” Shan said, glancing back at the letter. “Clever of you; I hadn’t marked that.

  “In other news of kin, Theo has returned to Surebleak, with crew and ship. One doubts that she will be long content to remain on Surebleak, but perhaps Val Con—I should say, Miri—may persuade her.”

  “Theo is not very persuadable, is she?” Padi asked, sipping her tea. “Perhaps, if she is given a task, so that she needn’t find her own trouble, that would answer.”

  “Perhaps it might. Padi, you are thinking like a thodelm.”

  “Surely not! And if I were, it would be very improper in me. Theo looks to Line yos’Phelium.”

  Shan grinned.

  “Theo would doubtless tell you that she looks to neither Line, nor to Korval. I therefore amend myself—you are thinking like a trader who wishes to preserve a talented contractor so that she may be of profit to Korval, and to herself, in future. My compliments.”

  “Thank you,” she said, very proper indeed. “Does Uncle Val Con have other news?”

  “In fact, he does! He allows us to know that Jeeves has produced a child, who has come into yos’Phelium, and was sent off by the Delm’s Word scant hours past birth.”

  He picked up his glass.

  “He of course writes no details of this mission, so all we are left to say is: Poor child! Grant she has her parent’s resourcefulness to sustain her.”

  “Which she will have,” Padi pointed out, frowning slightly. “Does the judgment upon Jeeves convey to his offspring?”

  “An excellent question. Jeeves is quite canny, and I don’t believe he would have produced a child only to see her murdered or set into slavery. However, you may have put your finger upon the reason for the delm’s quick action on her behalf.”

  “Get her out of the way until something may be contrived?”

  “Some respect for the delm, if you please, daughter, but—yes. Exactly so.”

  He moved a hand toward the screen.

  “Leaving kin aside for the moment, I am gratified to learn that TerraTrade did, indeed, dispatch a survey team to Surebleak, and they are even now undertaking a thorough survey.

  “Also—and the reason for my unseemly mirth upon your arrival—Lady yo’Lanna has stated her intention to come to Surebleak, household in train, which fact your uncle my brother wishes us to believe that he had utterly forgotten until the instant before he was to dispatch his letter.”

  Padi grinned.

  “No, that’s not very likely, is it?” she said. “But Lady yo’Lanna—she’s so very old, Father! What can she want on Surebleak?”

  “Novelty, I would expect; and an escape from faces too familiar, while the face she longs most to see is forever denied her.”

  Padi glanced aside.

  “I have no way to judge so venerable a lady,” she said at last. “But—her household? Can she be bringing Maelin and Wal Ter with her?”

  “She might. Neither has been named an heir. Clan Justus might very well wish to establish a cadet house on a growth world.”

  He frowned slightly, weighing the matter.

  “We may have the felicity of seeing Master Ken Rik again, if Justus cares to fill his grandmother’s household from the ranks of the extras. She might have all classes of kin to support her, as well as a modest staff.”

  “So many? Can Surebleak City accommodate her?”

  “A telling question. I’m certain that your Uncle Val Con is equal to the task of locating a suitable residence, for if she’s not already given him the commission, you may depend that she will do so in her next letter.”

  Padi laughed.

  “If all of that is to fall on him, it’s little wonder he tried to forget her arrival!”

  “Very true. I own myself impressed that he hasn’t yet left the planet.”

  “Are we called home?” Padi asked, after a moment.

  “By Val Con? Hardly.”

  “By the delm,” Padi amended patiently.

  “Ah. Well, we may be. There is a letter in-queue from the delm, which I haven’t yet read. For the moment, we are entirely on course.

  “So”—he spun his chair to face her fully—“honor me, Trader, do, with your thoughts regarding Pommierport.”

  III

  The norbears were gathered on the sand when Padi approached the habitat. Four furry faces were turned up to her, as if wondering how rude she was going to be this time.

  “Good-day,” she said. “You will perhaps be relieved to know that I have received a lesson in manners, and will better comport myself in future.”

  She paused, surveying the enclosure.

  Emergency rations were full; the waterfall was running merrily, the stones around its basin rather damp, as if someone had had a hasty wash.

  The growing greens were a trifle ragged, and the feeding platform was empty.

  Padi bent to the keeper, and brought out some apple slices and a few berin nuts, arranging them attractively on the platform, before replenishing the greens’ bowl.

  The norbears watched this with interest, but did not get up to inspect, as was their usual habit.

  Padi sighed.

  “Would anyone like a moment?” she asked, and put her hand into the enclosure.

  Nothing moved; even the waterfall seemed to suspend itself. Then, Delm Briat came up onto his back feet and raised his paws toward her.

  She gathered him up and brought him against her shoulder, smoothing the fur between his ears with careful fingers. He purred softly, which he had
never done before. She thought she saw a flicker of color behind her eyes before he abruptly squirmed, and she received the impression that he would welcome being set down among the others now.

  She accommodated him, of course, and straightened again with Tiny—who was not—cuddled against her. The pattern repeated. She stroked him; he purred, seeming content, but then quickly signaled his willingness to return to the enclosure.

  Master Frodo was standing on his back legs when she replaced Tiny on the sand, but when she would have gathered him up, he instead extended a paw and held tightly to her finger.

  She stood very still, closed her eyes, and waited.

  Eventually, an image formed in her head.

  “That is Priscilla,” she said. “My father’s lifemate, captain of the ship, and as I know, your very good friend.”

  She received a sensation of warmth, as if Master Frodo was pleased with her quickness.

  Another image formed—that of Lady Selph. Padi frowned slightly.

  “That is Lady Selph,” she said. “I fear that I was rude when last we spoke. I do intend to make amends. However, just now, it is your turn.”

  But, no. Through some protocol that was neither speech nor dreaming, she was allowed to understand that Master Frodo was ceding his place to Lady Selph, who very much wished to have a long coze with Padi.

  That . . . was unsettling though, Padi thought wryly, Lina had tried to warn her. Lady Selph had taken on the task of Sorting Padi yos’Galan, and she was going to see the thing through properly.

  “I don’t want to slight you,” she said, but Master Frodo would have none of it. Lady Selph, so she was given to understand, was Master Frodo’s extremely dear friend, and he was delighted to stand in support of her efforts. He was not so poor a thing that he would lose weight for one missed hug—not that he didn’t find Padi’s hugs pleasant, of course.

  She chuckled.

  “That was quite a nice recover,” she told him, and received the idea of a chuckle from him.

  “Very well then,” she said. “Lady Selph may do her worst. I hope you will give a good report of me to Priscilla, if I cannot be saved.”