For a moment A’Gaeris’s eyes glowed, then he looked down. “Of course, one would need a masterful writer to create Ages at will, and, say, a mole inside with access to places such as…cells, for example.”
§
Anna was in the laboratory, working on the latest soil samples from Gemedet, when Aitrus came in. Gehn was in the cot on a bench nearby. As Aitrus came across, he stopped to lean over and smile at his softly cooing son before greeting Anna.
Anna looked up from the lens of the microscope and smiled. “I won’t be long.”
He nodded. “I have had a letter.”
“Who is it from?”
“That is just it. It is not signed and the handwriting is unfamiliar.”
He handed it to her, then waited as she read it.
“Destroy it,” she said, handing it back to him. “And do not get involved, whatever it is.”
“But what does it mean?”
“Does it matter?”
Aitrus shrugged. “It is the tone of it that bothers me. ‘Something to your benefit’. And all of the secrecy. What do you think is going on?”
Anna sighed. “If it really worries you, Aitrus, hand it over to the Maintainers. Let them send a man along. But don’t you get involved.”
“All right,” he smiled. “I’ll destroy it.” And having said it, he reached across and, turning on the gas tap, ignited it, and held the corner of the letter in the fine blue flame. When it was well aflame, he dropped it into the sink. “There,” he said.
Behind him, Gehn began to whimper. Aitrus went over, lifted the baby from the cot, and cuddled him in the crook of his arm.
“He must be hungry,” Anna said. “I’ll finish here.”
“No, you work on,” he said. “I’ll feed him.”
She smiled. “Don’t overfeed him. That was the trouble last time. The poor little mite could barely copy!”
“I know,” he said, then, as if it were an afterthought, he added, “I have to go back to my rooms later on. There’s a report I have to finish. I’ll only be an hour or two. I can join you for a late supper.”
Anna grinned. “That would be nice. And maybe we could get away for a few days soon. To Gemedet.”
Aitrus nodded. “I shall ask Master Erafir to stand in for me. It is time he took on more responsibility.”
“Then go and see to Gehn. But remember, Aitrus, nothing too heavy for his stomach.”
§
Aitrus had meant to go straight to his rooms; his feet had lead him partway there, but then curiosity had overcome him and he found himself descending the steps, then walking beneath the gate into J’Taeri District.
I do not have to get involved, he told himself. Whatever it was, he did not have to act upon it. He would observe whatever had to be observed, then leave.
The street itself was an ordinary street, the house a staid, respectable dwelling of the kind merchants often bought. The windows were dark, the door locked. Aitrus turned. The house overlooked the harbor and Kerath’s arch, the top of which was almost on a level with where he stood. Across the street, between the facing buildings, was a low wall, from which one could look out over the lake. He went across and stood there, his hands resting lightly on the stone.
There was a faint mist in the cavern tonight. In the narrow streets lamps wavered as wagons moved between the houses. There was a shout from somewhere far below, and then laughter. Otherwise the night was peaceful. Aitrus turned, conscious of a faint gurgling sound. Close by a narrow culvert cut across the street, clear water running in a stream from the very top of the huge, scallop-shaped city. He bent down and dipped his hand. It was cool.
He was about to turn away and go when he heard footsteps coming along the far end of the street. Looking about him, he spied a nearby doorway and stepped into its shadows.
The footsteps came on, the slow click of leather boots on stone, then stopped. Aitrus hesitated. He was about to risk a glimpse, when a second set of footsteps could be heard, this time from his left, brisker than the first. They paused, then came on again, slower now. There was a low murmur of greeting.
Aitrus peeked out. Two men stood in the lamplight before the door of the house. One was cloaked and hooded, the other, a heavier-set man, wore nothing on his balding head. He looked familiar, but where Aitrus had seen him he could not say. He ducked back into shadow, listening.
“What do you want?” one of them asked, the voice, again, familiar.
“I have something to show you,” the second answered. “Something that will interest you.”
It was a deep voice, cultured yet with a strangely common edge to it. Whereas the first…
“You want me to go in there with you?” the first man asked, and as he did, Aitrus finally recognized the voice.
Veovis!
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Alone, at night, in a strange house?” Veovis laughed ironically. “Would you trust me?”
“Implicitly.”
There was a silence, then a huff of resignation.
“All right,” Veovis said finally. “I shall trust you. But be warned. I am armed, A’Gaeris.”
That name came as a shock to Aitrus. All young guildsmen knew it. No other name attracted quite such infamy. But what was he doing here in J’Taeri, a respectable district? And what was Veovis doing meeting him?
Aitrus peeked out again, in time to see the big, heavyset man place a key in the lock and turn it, then put out his hand, inviting Veovis to step inside.
“You first,” Veovis said, standing back a little, his hand on the hilt of his dagger. “And put a light on. Then I shall come inside.”
A’Gaeris smiled and shrugged, then stepped inside the house. A moment later a light went on in the hall.
Letting his hand fall from the hilt of his dagger, Veovis glanced to either side, then stepped into the house.
Was that it? Was that what the anonymous writer had meant him to see? And if so, why?
Aitrus was about to leave, to make his way back up to the Guild Hall, when a light went on in the ground-floor room to the left of the front door. Easing back against the wall, Aitrus watched as A’Gaeris entered the room, followed a moment later by Veovis.
Veovis, standing in the doorway, seemed ill at ease. He glanced about him, then, satisfied that it was not a trap, closed the door and walked across to where A’Gaeris was rummaging among the papers on a desk. There were a number of slender books among the papers, and A’Gaeris lifted one and handed it to Veovis.
Veovis hesitated, then opened it. He studied it a moment then looked up, his eyes wide.
A’Gaeris smiled, then gestured toward the chair facing him.
§
Aitrus went straight to his rooms in the Guild Hall. He had work to do, but he found he could not work. What he had seen troubled him greatly. Anna was right, of course; he ought to have gone straight to Master Jadaris and put the matter in the hands of the Maintainers, but he had not, and this was the result. Oh, he could go there now, but what proof would he have? It was his word against Veovis’s.
But what was going on? Why were such strange and unlikely companions meeting in a merchant’s house?
Aitrus sat still a long while, trying to fathom it, but he could make no sense of it at all.
Anna. Anna would know. Only he could not ask Anna, because he had promised her he would not get involved. He had burned the note, as if it had held no power over him. But it had. And now he had this dilemma.
Veovis. Maybe he ought to go and see Veovis and confront him openly with what he had seen.
Aitrus thought a while, then nodded. It seemed the right thing to do. No skulking about in shadows. That was not his way. He would take a boat to K’veer in the morning and have it out with Veovis, face-to-face. For there had to be an explanation.
Aitrus put away his files, then left the room, locking it behind him. Tomorrow, he told himself, making his way down the long, silent corridor toward the great gate. It will all com
e clear tomorrow.
§
Aitrus rose early the next morning. At supper the previous evening he had said nothing to Anna, nor had he hinted at what he planned. Yet even as he ate a hasty breakfast, a servant brought him in a second letter, the handwriting on the envelope the same as that on the anonymous note the day before.
Aitrus stared at the envelope a long while, then, with a sigh of resignation, slit it open with his fingernail. Inside was a brief note in the same hand as before, but with it was a letter—a letter from Veovis to one of the two young guildsmen who had gone missing thirty days back.
He read it through, then looked to the date at the top of the page. That was the day before the guildsmen disappeared.
“No,” he said quietly, setting the letter aside and picking up the note once more. “It is not possible…”
The note read: “Come and see me if you wish to know more” and gave a time and place. That place was the merchant’s house in J’Taeri.
Three choices now lay before him: to go to Master Jadaris and lay the matter before him; to go straight to K’veer and confront Veovis; or to wait until tonight and meet the author of the note.
The first was common sense; the second satisfied his sense of honor; but it was the third he would do.
Why? He could not answer why. It was simply how he was.
Forgive me, Anna, he thought, slipping the note and letter into his pocket and rising from his seat.
§
Veovis stood beside A’Gaeris on the great rock, looking out across the massive plain that stretched away below him and shook his head. Everything was subtly wrong. The colors were unnatural, the shapes of trees, even the way the hills were formed, all was wrong. Yet it existed.
He turned, looking through his lenses at A’Gaeris. “Who made this?”
A’Gaeris turned, his eyes gleaming beyond the surface of the protective glasses. “Your old friend, Aitrus.”
“Impossible,” Veovis said dismissively. “Aitrus and his kin own but two Ages—Ko’ah and Gemedet. Both are strictly monitored by the Maintainers. If either were anything like this…well, it would not be allowed.”
“Yet this is his Age,” A’Gaeris said, smiling now as he handed Veovis the Linking Book.
“No,” Veovis said quietly, disbelief vying with horror as he stared at the handwriting on the pages of the Book. It was Aitrus’s. He had seen Aitrus’s hand too often to be in doubt.
“He is experimenting,” A’Gaeris answered, matter-of-factly. “Secretly, of course, for he knows the guilds would frown upon his activities. The woman leads him on, of course. Without her he would never have strayed from the D’ni path. It is her insidious influence we see all about us, Veovis. The wrongness…that is her doing.”
Veovis looked about him, then nodded, half-convinced.
“Poor Aitrus.”
“You pity him?”
Veovis looked up, a flash of anger in his eyes. “He was a good man, once. As you rightly say, the outsider has bewitched him and stolen his senses.” He closed the Book and shook it. “If this is true…”
A’Gaeris put his arm out, indicating their surroundings. “Can you doubt it?”
“No…no, it is clear to me now.”
Veovis sighed heavily.
A’Gaeris stared at him, as if sympathetic. “Would you like me to leave you for a while?”
Veovis nodded, then, with a small sad smile, opened the Linking Book for the Philosopher. The square on the right-hand page glowed softly, showing a picture of a study back on D’ni.
A’Gaeris met his eyes a moment. “There is more.”
“More?”
“Yes. This is not the only Age he made. Perhaps you would like to see a few before you make up your mind what to do.”
Again Veovis nodded, clearly shocked by this news.
“Well,” A’Gaeris said finally, putting out his hand. “I shall leave you now. Farewell.”
His hand touched the glowing box. In a moment he was gone.
Veovis closed the Book and pocketed it, then looked up again. There was a curious beauty to this world, yet it was wrong.
Aitrus had to be stopped. But how? If he went to the Five with this information, Aitrus would be expelled from the Council, stripped of his guild membership, and possibly even incarcerated on a Prison Age. Such was the penalty for making illicit Ages. It would rid him of his chief opponent in Council, but that was unimportant. Besides, he wondered if he could do it if it meant destroying Aitrus and his family. Maybe the woman was a pernicious influence, and maybe the child was better off dead, but for Aitrus himself he still felt a great sympathy. Despite all their recent animosity, he could not help but remember how good and kind a friend Aitrus had once been. A true friend, unafraid to say as he saw.
Walking to the edge of the great slab, Veovis sat, his booted feet dangling over the drop. What should he do?
I’ll wait, he decided, and see what other evidence our friend A’Gaeris has to offer. And then I’ll take my father’s counsel.
Veovis stood, taking the Linking Book from his pocket and opening it. Then, like a child gently leaping a stream, he jumped out, over the edge of the great rock, putting his hand to the panel as he leapt, linking—vanishing into the air—even as the Book tumbled down into the wilderness of rock and tree below.
§
“Wait here. My master will see you in a moment.”
As the boy left the darkened room, Aitrus walked across. What, for the briefest instant, he had taken to be a mirror was in fact a window, looking in to what appeared to be a study. A single wall lamp lit the inner room dimly.
“Strange,” he said quietly, surprised to find a window in the middle of a house.
On the far side of the study was a desk. Open upon the desk, recognizable by the tell-tale glow on its right-hand page, was a D’ni book.
Aitrus stared at it, astonished to see it there. Yet even as he looked, a figure formed in the air in front of the desk, until it stood, as solid as everything about it, on the thick, red carpet.
A’Gaeris!
A’Gaeris shook himself, shrugging off the sensation of the link, then went around to the far side of the desk and opened one of the drawers, taking something from within. For a time he sat there, staring down at it, then, sensing a disturbance in the air, he looked up.
As he did, a second figure formed before the desk. Veovis.
A cold certainty swept through Aitrus at the sight. This was ill indeed.
Veovis turned, looking to his seated companion, then nodded.
“All right. You had better show me the others.”
A’Gaeris stood. In his hands was another Book. He stepped around the desk and handed it to Veovis.
“There are more,” he said. “This is the only one that I have here, but I can bring the others if you wish. Tomorrow night, if that is convenient.”
Veovis studied the Book in his hands a while, then handed it back. “Tomorrow,” he said. “I shall come tomorrow.”
“At this hour?” A’Gaeris asked.
“At this hour,” Veovis answered. And then he turned and left, slamming the door behind him.
A’Gaeris stared at the Book a moment, then set it down and turned to face the one-way mirror, looking directly at Aitrus.
“Aitrus. We need to talk.”
§
“You did not believe him capable, did you?”
Aitrus looked up wearily. For more than two hours he had worked his way through a stack of letters and documents all in Veovis’s hand.
There was nothing here that was directly incriminating—in almost every case the evidence against Veovis was purely circumstantial—yet the pattern of it seemed conclusive. Enough to convince Aitrus, anyway. He looked back across the desk at the Philosopher. A’Gaeris’s brow was beaded with perspiration. In the wavering candlelight he seemed much older than his eighty-five years.
“How long has he been trading in illicit Books?”
“
Two, maybe three years now—that is, as far as I know. As I said, I was not sure of it at first. After all, he was a great Lord. A man of real substance. It seemed remarkable—unbelievable, almost—that he should be demeaning himself so.”
“It still is,” Aitrus said, setting the final memorandum aside. “If I had not seen all this with my own eyes.” He stared at it a moment, then looked back at A’Gaeris. “Where did you get these?”
“I have sources,” A’Gaeris answered. “I bought this here, that there, collecting, all the while collecting, until I had enough to be certain.”
“And the Books you are selling him; where did they come from? I have heard nothing of missing Books.”
“They were from his friend, Suahrnir.”
“Suahrnir! But…”
Aitrus saw it at once. One of the duties of the Guild of Maintainers was to destroy “failed” Books—D’ni Books that, for one reason or another, had not worked, linking to unstable Ages. These were burned in special guild ovens. Or were supposed to be. And the man in charge of that task was…Guild Master Suahrnir.
“But why does he not deal with his friend Veovis directly?”
A’Gaeris smiled. “They are friends, yes, but neither trusts the other. Besides…” he laughed, “neither knows the other is involved. Suahrnir does not know who buys the Books, and Veovis…”
“Does not know who supplies them, right?”
The Myst Reader Page 51