by Viola Grace
Chapter Four
“So, you can actually sleep, perched like that?” She finished setting the headpiece in place as he tidied up the dishes from breakfast.
“Of course. My wings balance me perfectly on any surface I choose to alight on. Even your footboard.” Rimash smiled and turned toward her, covering the space between them in easy strides.
He reached out and touched her headpiece, centring it with one small move.
“Wow. You really do take care of everything.”
Rimash chuckled. “I am responsible for your wellbeing. Mental and physical. That includes your appearance.”
“Oh. Good.”
He looked her up and down. “You are ready for work.”
She nodded. “Thank you. I feel better than yesterday.”
“As you should. Your mind will strengthen the pathways to the archive, and soon, you will simply be tired after a long day of work and not exhausted to the point of delirium.”
“I think that is a goal I should shoot for.”
“An excellent target. Are you ready?”
One deep breath in, one deep breath out. “I am ready.”
“Then, let us go.”
She placed her hand on his wrist, and they left her quarters and headed to the Contract Archive.
Jill sat at her desk, organized herself and placed her hands on the flat surface, preparing for her first search. Before she gave Rimash the nod, she brewed a cup of tea and kept it handy under her desk.
Cold tea was better than no tea.
When she was all set up, she nodded at Rimash, and he gestured for the guards to let in the first requestors.
Another deep breath and she was on.
As the morning wore on, she saw the theme. Contracts were frequently destroyed by those who wished to remove all traces of them. The Great Archive stood in the way of that destruction and was the last chance for folk to gain proof of the original agreement.
That was why Jill was here.
When she finished with a territory dispute and put her seals on the documents, she waited until they were gone before she asked, “Does that happen a lot?”
“Having contracts thrown into volcanoes, tied to a sacrifice? No. That was a new one.” He cracked a smile and then nodded for her to sit.
She settled her palms on her desk and the connection to the archive got brighter.
The next three appointments went fine, but the fourth caused a problem.
“I am sorry; there is no contract on file that allows your people access to the lake of Lapur. The lake Ompel, Yru and Nekma all have contracts, but Lapur was left in the hands of their original people.”
The man across from her flared his gill slits and rose to his feet. “Find the contract.”
“There is no contract.”
Her client slammed his fists down on her desk. “Find it!”
Rimash was behind him with his arm around the man’s throat, murmuring in a liquid language.
The man went limp and spoke calmly.
“Archive, he wants proof that no contract has ever been filed with the Alliance. His translator is a little off.”
She looked at the amphibious man who was standing calmly in her guard’s embrace.
“You want me to prove that the rights to Lapur Lake have never been signed away?”
He conferred with Rimash before nodding. “Yes.”
“That I can work with. Please, sit down.”
Rimash spoke to him and released him. As the man sat, Rimash added a few words that made her client look nervous and polite.
Jill put her hands on the desk and cast back through fifteen hundred years of Alliance contact. Her client watched it all with wide eyes.
When she found the first contact documents, she began with trade and vacation contracts that flared and dimmed, only to be renewed every hundred years. Lapur Lake was mentioned but only as a sovereign territory.
As the search concluded, she opened a new file that referenced all previous contracts, and she proclaimed that at no time—since contact had been initiated—had Lapur Lake been ceded for development to any non-indigenous or indigenous source.
When she had completed her listing of criteria with no room for anyone to intimate that anything else had been offered regarding their contracts, she asked, “What is the significance of the lake?”
Rimash answered without translating for the man whose skin darkened. “Mating ground.”
She quickly did a check and nodded, adding the importance of maintaining the population, as was promised in the initial contact contract. The current population was in danger of dipping below the levels of fifteen hundred years ago. That was cause for protection.
Her client watched the words appear, and he brightened.
When she was done, she signed virtually and printed a copy for him to take with him to the Legal Archive. Help would be available for him if he could prove his case. She had given him what she could.
Rimash watched carefully as she handed her client the seal-studded document. It was different from the standard contract copy.
Her client bowed and took the thick paper. Rimash explained what he needed to do and that he needed to get a proper translator before he proceeded.
Jill sat back and rubbed the back of her neck. Rimash looked her way. “Are you all right to continue? You look tired.”
She chuckled. “I am tired, but I have one more. They wait a long time to see the Contract Archive, and since I don’t know how many of us there are, I will do my part.”
He blinked. “I thought you knew. You are the only one. There is only one prime archivist for each department at any given time. When the previous archivist for contracts passed away, they had to find another suitable candidate.”
“When did he or she die?”
“He died twelve weeks ago.”
She sat back. “That was when I was offered my place in the Terran Volunteers.”
“Those who waited were sorted into the other departments as they were able. Those that could not be sent to another department were put up by the Great Archive until you arrived.”
She rubbed her temples. “Right. I have more questions.”
“Of course. Are you ready for your next client?”
She practiced her breathing and looked up at him. “Send them in.”
He nodded and resumed his posture, watching the client closely, ready to step in at a moment’s notice if it was necessary. Jill was both relaxed and nervous about his casual acceptance that she was in danger from those who wanted to search the archive.
She looked up patent-use contracts for a starship engine design and provided copies of it to her client. The same representative signed his copy, but it had different information. He needed both contracts to pursue his case, and she gave him what he needed.
When he was gone, she was done for the day.
She nodded to Rimash. “Done.”
He inclined his head and signalled the guards.
“Do you need help?”
She got to her feet on her own, and there was only a slight rush of weakness. “I am good. I won’t win any races, but I think I can make the walk back to my quarters.”
She finished her tea and left her cup in the cupboard where she was to hide it.
She walked up to Rimash and put her hand on his wrist. A weird curl of heat ran through her.
The heat reminded her of the strange dreams she had had in the night. Despite her exhaustion, she had felt wildness swirling around her anytime her mind surfaced close to waking. The feeling of wildness had brought with it curls of heat that ran through her limbs and started to stir something inside her.
Rimash walked her back to her quarters and made sure she had her evening meal.
“Join me.”
He paused. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I have questions, and I think you might be able to answer them.”
He i
nclined his head. “I would be happy to.”
“Good. Please, order your food, and I will wait for you.”
He went to her well-stocked food unit and ordered his meal and then another.
She sipped at her water and waited, lifting her eating implement when he sat down. It took him a few seconds to settle his wings, but when he began to eat, she started with the questions.
“How did the previous Contract Archive die?”
He slurped in some noodles. “Old age. He was two hundred and forty-three.”
“How was he recruited?”
Rimash quirked his lips. “When the previous Contract Archive died, he was her successor. He had the implants, as you do, but yours are much faster and more elaborate.”
“So, the next one isn’t chosen until the previous one dies?”
“Correct.”
“How are the new archives chosen?”
He appeared to realize that she was serious about the questions. He changed his position slightly to one less relaxed, and he answered.
“As far as I know, you must have a mind that can handle the connection with the Great Archive. The criteria are known only to the Archive itself.”
“You speak about the Archive as if it is alive.” She snorted and kept eating.
He looked at her in surprise. “It is.”
She stopped eating. “What?”
“The Great Archive is a living world. It has no Avatar; it simply loves knowledge, so it offered itself as the repository of all information.”
“That can’t be right.”
“Of course it can. That is why it is so difficult to find the archivists to replace the ones who have fallen. It is only when there is an opening that they are told what to look for. As the archive has expanded, so has the need for a certain type of interface in the archivist.”
Jill sat back and tried to remember the first discussion that she had had with the recruiter. He had asked her if she would authorize a scan of her brain output, and she had agreed. It didn’t hurt and had taken three minutes. When it was over, the recruiter had looked at her with calm sadness in his eyes. He told her they would be in touch, and they had been.
Everything that had happened after that fateful meeting had led her to this place and this time.
“So, they scanned me for suitability, and when my brain matched the pattern they were looking for, they hooked me up to the data-retrieval system.”
“Correct.”
She nodded and looked down at her plate, picking up her eating implement and continuing her meal. “Right. So, what do you like to read?”
He grinned, and they had a normal conversation while her mind grappled with the thought that she had been selected because a planet wanted to talk to her.
She needed dessert.
Chapter Five
A week and two rest days later, she was finally in the swing of things.
Lunch was taken in the archivist dining room and each department master had their bodyguard with them at all times. Jill would not say that she was making friends with the other archivists, but their specialities were amazing.
Agricultural history, biology, entomology, language and dozens of others. The one that surprised Jill most was penmanship. Calligraphic study was not something that Jill had truly considered, but as they spoke, she understood the idea that the visual representation of language had made understanding and communication possible. You could understand the method of thought in a species if you saw their writing systems.
On her rest days, Jill went to visit other parts of the archive, and to her shock, Rimash went with her. Wherever she went, he went. He didn’t get a day off.
When he walked her to her offices after her rest day, she finally asked, “Why didn’t you take a day off?”
“I am responsible for your health and wellbeing. I cannot monitor you if you are on one part of the world and I am in another.”
She made a face. “Fine. Next rest day, you pick where you want to go and I will go with you.”
He grinned. “Good. I have an interest in the calligraphy archive and their classes run daily.”
“You can take classes?”
He put in the codes for access to her hallway and office. “Of course. This is also a centre of learning. While the Great Archive wishes to accumulate knowledge, it also wishes to help others in the same pursuit.”
Jill shrugged. “That explains the students.”
“It truly does. Are you ready for today?”
“Is anything different happening?”
“Who knows? The folks who come through that door never fail to surprise me.” He chuckled as she ran through her own security protocols to get to the inner office.
“I have to admit that a few have stumped me.”
“Well, you have executed your duties with as much patience and care as could be wished for. The Archive is pleased with the progress.”
“You talk to it?”
He raised his brows. “Of course. All of the escorts act as intermediaries with the Archive itself. While we can watch the biological signs of our charges, it watches your minds.”
Jill blinked. “How did I miss finding out about that?”
“You never asked.” He chortled.
She had learned that he had a sense of humour that kicked in when she was surprised by the new world around her. Her shock amused the hell out of him.
She settled at her desk and prepped her tea for the morning, taking a quick sip before she settled with her hands on the table.
“Ready when you are, Captain.”
He gave the nod, and they were off once again.
A woman came in, heavily pregnant with shaking hands. She bowed in front of the desk, and Jill motioned for her to sit down.
The woman was elegant, her black velvet skin a lovely contrast to her bright amber eyes. Her hair was up in a twist, and her body was swathed in a thick amethyst silk gown.
“Archive, I need you to find a copy of my mating contract.” The woman’s voice was hoarse with tears.
“I will do what I can. What is your name, miss?”
“Imbri Dakurt Limira of the Selna. Please. I don’t want my child born to the Selna. It needs a life where it won’t be sold to the highest bidder.” She dragged in a deep breath. “My mate is Drono Limira of the Nyal.”
Jill went looking, and she tried not to flinch at what she found. Drono Limira was a serial contract mater. He had eleven mates alive and on record, and each one had been signed back to their families the moment that he left their world. He was renting a wife for his business trips.
Jill looked at the upset woman. “Do you know about him?”
Imbri sniffled. “He was kind, he was attentive. He bought me things and was respectful to my mother. He was a good husband.”
While she talked, Jill was running through the Limira family contracts, looking for something she could turn to Imbri’s purposes.
“I have found three contracts that are of interest to you. The first is that I have found your mating contract.”
Imbri smiled in relief.
“Stay strong, because the next is the contract where Drono sold you back to your family.”
The gasp was the precursor to a wave of tears that took the Selna from hope to devastation.
“Calm, miss. Calm.” Jill opened one of her drawers and pulled out an elegant handkerchief with the logo of the Contract Archive on it.
She slid the handkerchief across her desk, and Imbri took it, sobbing at a gradually decreasing pace.
“The third contract is one where you can get support for you and your child.”
The gold eyes opened in surprise. “You can?”
“Not me. You. I just found the contract of one of his ancestors promising support and an equal share of the family fortunes for any of his children or members of his blood. That seems to encompass your child.”
Jill got to her feet
and went to retrieve the copies. She was just turning with the heavy parchment when a wave of power flowed through the air and Imbri cried out.
The surge of liquid onto the floor proved to Jill that aliens started to give birth the same way Terrans did.
Imbri stared at her. “It isn’t my time.”
Jill looked to Rimash. “Call for a medical team!”
He nodded. “Already done. May I assist?”
Jill gestured for him to come in. “Please. I don’t suppose you have done this before?”
He grinned. “Only four times. There are few pregnant women in the Great Archive.”
She quickly went to her desk and authorized the copies in her hands before anything went odd. It was hard to concentrate, but she verified the contents of the contracts before she affixed her seals.
Once they were ready, she joined the couple on the floor. Rimash had found a wide blanket, and Imbri was lying back muttering. “Too soon, it’s too soon.”
Jill only had the basic knowledge of what she was seeing, but the blood was not a good sight.
Rimash folded his wings back and knelt in front of Imbri’s spread knees. “Archive Ahamad, go and keep her calm.”
His voice was stern. Whatever was happening, he didn’t want her to see it.
She went and knelt next to Imbri, supporting her when she wanted to sit up a little.
“Is this a normal pregnancy, Imbri?” She whispered it in the woman’s ear.
The Selna shook her head violently. “It is a tubal pregnancy. I wanted to force Drono to take responsibility for our child because I am not going to survive this.”
Rimash cursed and lifted his head. “Medical, where are you?”
He nodded shortly. “Two minutes away. The tube broke down.”
Imbri smiled weakly and looked up at Jill. “You will make him pay?”
This was a deathbed request. There was no doubt about it. Jill swallowed. “I will pursue your case and make sure that your child is taken care of.” Out of her mouth came the words, “It will be as my own, but you will be fine.”
Imbri smiled slightly and her skin greyed as she arched and her child entered the world.
The medics rushed in, and Rimash lifted the child, putting it on its mother’s abdomen.