The rest of the run was blessedly peaceful, and she arrived back at the house in a relaxed frame of mind. She might even have stayed that way, but Micah intercepted her as she walked down the hall toward the shower.
“Tal. You need to see this.” He held out his reader card, and a comment on his poor timing died on her lips when she felt him. Micah was deeply upset about something.
She took the card from his hand and perused the text. It was an open letter to all major Alsean news agencies from a coalition of economists, declaring their opposition to the use of matter printers and their belief that such use would result in a global economic collapse.
“Shek.”
“Keep reading.”
Below the letter was a report containing a statistical assessment and projection, which had been undertaken over the course of six moons. The coalition had put a considerable amount of work into their report. This was no mere political opinion. It was serious, documented scholarly research, and it was going to have an enormous impact on both the Council and Alsean public opinion.
“Perfect,” she said. “That’s just what I need right now.”
“Keep reading.” Micah folded his arms across his chest.
She scanned past the source list for the data, and came upon the list of signatures. There were more than fifty of them.
“Who in Fahla’s name got fifty economists to agree on something?”
His expression gave her the sinking feeling that she knew the answer. With a sense of foreboding she scrolled down to the final line, which acknowledged the lead authors of the report. After staring at it for a moment, she returned the card to Micah. “Well,” she said with false cheer, “now I know why Darzen wouldn’t return my calls. She was busy with her research.”
“I never thought she would do something like this. My instincts failed me. I believed she would be good for you.”
“I believed the same thing. At least our instincts are consistent.”
“Consistently wrong,” he said in disgust.
“I disagree. If circumstances had been different, Darzen could have been good for me. But I hurt her and damaged her pride, and we both know that few wounds go deeper than those. Besides—” she tapped the reader card—“everything here reflects what she told me on our last night, before she knew who I was. This is her truth.”
“Well, her truth is more wrong than my instincts.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Tal laughed. “I think you’re more angry about this than I am.”
“Why aren’t you? This is bad, Tal. You’ve spent the last cycle working and strategizing and educating and holding the hands of every Alsean who cannot envision a greater future, and now this. You know it will set off a firestorm.”
“I know.” The brief humor of the moment vanished. “I’m sure there’s a message from Aldirk waiting for me, and I’m sure the next few ninedays are going to be a Fahla-damned battle, but we’ll just have to fight it intelligently.” She looked longingly toward the shower. “And if the global economy is going to collapse, can I at least bathe first?”
Micah stepped aside. “I’ll prepare the Guards for our departure,” he said as she walked past him.
She stopped and turned. “I’m not leaving.”
“You cannot stay.”
“Yes, I can. I agreed to a challenge. I’ll leave when it’s finished.”
“That was a ridiculous power play, and I never did understand the point of it, though I’ve certainly enjoyed my time here. But this is serious, Tal!”
“So is this!”
As he stared at her, she sighed and walked back. “Something is happening between Salomen and me,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t know—”
“What?” Micah burst out. “You and—”
She clapped a hand over his mouth, horrified at his volume. “A little discretion, please,” she whispered furiously. He nodded, wide-eyed, and she dropped her hand.
“You and Salomen? When did that start? And why didn’t you tell me? Fahla, you keep your tiles close to your chest!”
He was hurt, she marveled. “I didn’t keep anything from you. This has taken me completely by surprise. It’s been creeping up on me so slowly that I noticed nothing until just last night.”
“Well, what happened last night?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again as she was swamped by a memory of Salomen in her arms. Micah’s astonishment was as warm to her senses as the blood was in her face.
“Andira Shaldone Tal, you are blushing.” All concern for Alsea’s economic future vanished from Micah’s emotions, replaced by a sincere delight. “To think I should have lived to see this day! You and a producer? And not only that, but the most obstinate, argumentative, unyielding woman I have ever met besides…” He paused for theatrical effect. “Come to think of it, you’re perfect for each other.”
“Funny, Micah. Enjoy it while you can.”
“Oh, I will.” He chuckled. “Are you going to tell Aldirk we’re staying, or shall I?”
“Since you already seem to be in such a fine mood, why don’t you? Then I can take a Fahla-damned shower, and we’ll deal with the Darzens of the world.”
He nodded. “For what my opinion is worth, she’s a fine woman.”
“I know.” She gave him a wry smile. “What I don’t know is whether she holds the same opinion of me.”
He clapped her on the back. “If she doesn’t now, she will soon. Go shower. You stink.”
CHAPTER 41
Lesson in manners
Herot was late for mornmeal, and when he finally shambled in, Tal swore she could see a black cloud over his head. She blocked her senses rather than be subjected to his anger and self-pity at such close range, and knew by the faintly distracted look on Salomen’s face that she was doing the same.
“Salomen,” she said, “there’s a situation forming that will require a great deal of my time in the next few days. I’m afraid I’ll have to cut back on my field work. And would you mind a more frequent use of your parlor? And perhaps a few more guests?”
“Are you sure this isn’t an attempt to wriggle out of pipe repair? I know how much you enjoyed it yesterday.”
“You like digging pipe?” Jaros asked incredulously.
“About as much as you like homework.”
“Oh.” Plainly, this made far more sense. “Maybe we could trade.”
“You’d rather dig pipe than do homework?” He nodded so enthusiastically that she couldn’t restrain herself from ruffling his hair. “Well then, perhaps we can work something out.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Jaros. I have prior claim to the Lancer’s time, or at least as much of it as she’s able to give.” Salomen reached for the juice pitcher. “Can you tell us anything about the situation?”
Tal explained the coalition’s report and the loss of civic confidence that was sure to follow unless she could head it off. She and her advisors would be meeting that very afternoon to determine a strategy, and a Council session had been scheduled in Blacksun for the next day.
“But surely you and your advisors took these considerations into account when you devised the original strategy,” Shikal said.
“We did.”
“And have these economists been privy to the development of that strategy?”
“No one on my team signed that letter. These people weren’t involved in the original planning meetings. But I made the documents public as soon as they were complete.”
“So you made a decision and informed everyone else of it after the fact, and now you’re surprised that some people disagree with it?” Herot asked.
Everyone stared at him.
“Herot…” Salomen began, but Tal cut in.
“I’m not surprised at all. I just wish the coalition had chosen a less damaging method to
air its disagreements than a worldwide press release guaranteed to frighten the entire population.”
Jaros had been listening with a look of confusion. “I don’t understand. You wouldn’t do anything to hurt Alsea.”
“No, I would not.”
“Then why are these people saying you would?”
“Because they don’t think she knows quite as much as she thinks she does,” Herot answered.
“Herot!” Salomen glared daggers across the table. “Where does this come from? You will not insult a guest of our home. Apologize, now.”
Herot glared right back. “You’re not my mother!”
“Well, I’m your father,” Shikal said angrily, “and you will apologize.”
“Not to me.” Tal was watching Salomen’s white face with concern, and when she lowered her blocks for a quick skim, her suspicions were confirmed. She turned to Herot. “You can’t hurt me with words. But you certainly know how to hurt your sister, don’t you? I believe you owe her an apology.”
Herot threw his napkin on the table and walked out, leaving a heavy silence behind him.
“Lancer Tal,” said Shikal, “Please accept my apologies in place of my son’s. His behavior is inexcusable.”
“His behavior to me is…understandable. He learned a hard lesson this morning and hasn’t worked past it. What I won’t excuse is him diverting his anger from me to Salomen. I have no right to interfere in family issues, and there’s more going on here than I’m aware of. But I’m here as a guest of Salomen, and her welfare is my concern.”
“Enough.” Salomen had found her voice. “Father, we don’t need to involve the Lancer in this. Can we simply agree to move on with our day? We have much to do.”
Shikal agreed, but the rest of mornmeal was subdued until Tal told a story about a training mission that had ended with Micah falling face-first into a mud pit. Micah’s outraged response to the story had most of the family laughing, and Jaros was wide-eyed with fascination. He was extremely reluctant to leave for school afterward, and only an affectionate swat on the rump from Salomen was sufficient to get him moving.
Soon after, Tal and Salomen were settling into the skimmer, which was bristling with the tools they were using on the irrigation project.
“Wait!” Tal said just as Salomen started the engine.
“What?”
“I forgot my gloves. Don’t leave without me.”
“You only wish I would.”
Tal jumped out of the skimmer and jogged to the equipment outbuilding, where she had left her gloves drying the night before. Preoccupied with thoughts of how to defuse the economist situation, she didn’t sense anything outside her own mind until two distinct sources of white-hot anger singed her. It was Herot and Jaros, and they were both behind the outbuilding.
She ran to the corner of the building and stopped abruptly, debating her course of action. Her instinct had been to step in, but this was between two brothers. Who was she to interfere?
Then she heard the dull thud of a body hitting wood and Jaros’s cry, and that was all it took to send her around the corner wanting Herot’s blood.
Jaros was picking himself up off the ground and rubbing his shoulder, while Herot stood over him threateningly.
“Leave my things alone, you little fantenshekken,” Herot snarled.
“I didn’t take it! You probably lost it!”
Herot reached out to shove his brother again, but stopped when Tal moved into his field of view.
“You are having a bad day, aren’t you?” She turned her attention to Jaros. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” he said sullenly.
She crouched in front of him, her senses alert for any movement behind her. “Are you sure?” she whispered.
He nodded, his expression growing more open. “I’m fine.”
“In that case, you’re late.” She winked at him. “But before you go, I need to know one thing. Are we still allies?”
She felt understanding dawn. “Yes,” he said, casting a sidelong look at his brother.
“Then, my ally, you go to school, and I’ll take care of this.”
Without warning he wrapped his arms around her, gave her a quick warmron, picked up his bag, and sped off. She took a moment to savor his spontaneous affection before turning to face the far less affectionate brother behind her.
“I see you’re unaccustomed to rejection,” she said.
He glared at her. “I’m unaccustomed to being treated like dirt.”
“Really? How interesting. You certainly know how to treat others that way. I’ve seen you do it twice in half a hantick.”
“You have no right to speak to me of my family!”
“I have a right based on my alliance with Jaros. I always honor my alliances, which means any threat to Jaros is a threat to me. Would you care to push me into the wall now?”
He scowled at her and turned to walk away. In two steps she closed the gap, caught his arm, and swung him around. He threw his own momentum into the swing, raising his fist as he turned, but she caught it, tripped him up, and in a moment was sitting on his back as he struggled beneath her. His efforts were hampered considerably by the hold she still had on his arm, which was twisted up behind him.
“Let’s consider your morning so far,” she said conversationally. “You’ve had a sexual interest in me from the moment we met—no, don’t worry, I doubt anyone else knows except Colonel Micah…and Salomen…and the rest of your family except Jaros…oh, and all of my Guards. But after half a moon of receiving zero encouragement, you decided to push your interest on me by simply appearing for my morning run. It did not occur to you to ask permission beforehand, nor did you think your actions through to their possible conclusions. A serious flaw in your strategy, by the way.”
He growled and tried to buck her off, but stilled when she twisted his arm a little higher up.
Settling herself more comfortably, she continued. “You also did no research on your target. If you had, you would have known that I run ten lengths each morning, that my Guards are chosen in part for their ability to keep up, and that I don’t tolerate interference in my morning exercise. Did you actually think I would slow my pace or even end my run because you couldn’t keep up? Is that why you feel you were treated like dirt? You interfere with my activities and then feel mistreated because I didn’t drop everything in order to adjust for your lack of consideration, your misplaced arrogance, and your appalling presumption?”
She paused, aware that Salomen was nearby. Turning her head, she saw her hostess leaning against the corner of the building, arms crossed over her chest. Their eyes met, and the message was clear: Salomen would not interfere.
“You earned this morning’s lesson,” she said. “Actions lead to consequences. And just so you’re aware, I reduced my Guard in order to assure your safety and health. I do not jeopardize my personal safety for dirt. But I did it for you.”
“You did it for your guilt,” he snapped.
“No, I did it because you’re a member of my host family. That’s all. You personally have earned no consideration from me, nor have your actions been worthy of any respect. But I really didn’t think you’d be so obtuse as to earn two lessons in one day. Taking your anger out on your family is the mark of a very small man. Is that what you want to be?”
He was silent, but she had skimmed his emotions and knew the truth, even if he didn’t recognize it in himself. She loosened her hold on his arm and leaned forward, speaking quietly and in a kinder voice. “It doesn’t matter what others think of you. Be your own man. Prove them wrong. Prove me wrong.”
She released him and stood back, balanced on the balls of her feet as she watched him scramble up. He turned to her with fury etched in his face, and she closed her senses against it.
“I have nothing to prove to you!”
“But you do have something to prove to yourself. And what you’re doing now isn’t working, is it?”
He raised his eyes, seeing Salomen for the first time, then turned with an oath and stalked away. Tal watched him go for a few moments before walking back to her hostess.
“That was quite a show,” Salomen remarked.
“I’m surprised you allowed it.”
Salomen pushed off the wall, and Tal fell in step next to her as they made their way back to the skimmer.
“I allowed it because I knew you wouldn’t hurt him. And I’m afraid that someday, somebody will if he doesn’t pull himself together. He’s made enemies in town. But I’m more worried about his choice of friends.”
“This is about losing Nashta, isn’t it?”
Salomen gave her a startled glance, then shook her head. “After our training sessions, I should know better than to be surprised by anything you say. Yes, I think so. Herot adored her. They had a special bond.”
“I’m sorry this has been so difficult for you.”
Salomen stopped and looked toward the south border. “It has been, but I realized something back there, watching you do what none of us could. It’s less difficult with you here.” She strode off again. “Come on, we’re late already.”
Tal jogged to catch up, and they walked the rest of the way to the skimmer in silence. Salomen had just started the engine when Tal said, “Wait!”
“What now?”
“I never got my gloves.”
Salomen dropped her head to the steering yoke. “And you lead our world?”
CHAPTER 42
Open door
Tal returned to the house after midmeal for a hastily arranged meeting with Tophalamon and Ponsard, her top economic advisors, and Miltorin, her communications advisor. For the rest of the afternoon they worked on a plan to deal with the expected fallout from the economist coalition’s report, and by the end Tal was satisfied that they had a firm grip on the situation. She just wished it didn’t involve quite so much of her time, but there was no way to avoid the public appearances. And tomorrow she had to go to Blacksun for the Council session, which was sure to be full of posturing. Some of the Councilors would seize on this publicity to further their own maneuverings for power within their regions and castes, and she wasn’t looking forward to an entire afternoon of useless bickering. In fact she wasn’t looking forward to leaving Hol-Opah at all, but the real world had intruded on her sanctuary.
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