Timothy Zahn - Cobra 03 - Cobra Bargain

by Cobra Bargain(lit)

  It turned out that Daulo was still out on some unspecified family business when

  Asya called for him. Jin tried suggesting that Asya escort her instead, but whoever was on the other end of the intercom politely informed her she would wait for Daulo.

  The wait turned out to be nearly an hour. Jin chafed at the delay, but there was really nothing she could do about it if she was to stay in character. Finally, though, Daulo appeared, and the two of them headed out into the bustle of

  Milika.

  The tour proved well worth the wait. Towns and villages on Aventine and the other Cobra Worlds, Jin had long ago learned, basically grew on their own, with no more attention given to design and structure than was absolutely necessary.

  Milika, clearly planned in detail from the ground up, was a striking contrast to that laissez-faire attitude. What was even more impressive was the fact that whoever had done the planning had actually put some intelligence into the job.

  The village was basically a giant circle, some two and a half kilometers across, with five major roads radiating like spokes between an inner traffic circle and a much larger outer circular drive. Inside the Small Ring Road was a well-groomed public park called the Inner Green; circling the village between the Great Ring Road and the wall, Daulo informed her, was a larger belt of parkland called the Outer Green.

  "The Greens were designed to be public lands, common meeting and recreational places for the five families who founded Milika," Daulo told her as they passed through the crowds of pedestrians on the Small Ring Road and crossed over onto the Inner Green. "Like your home in the city, most of the minor family members and workers live in group houses bordering on small common courtyards, and this allows them more space than they would otherwise have."

  "A good idea," Jin nodded. "The children especially must like it."

  Daulo smiled. "They do indeed. Specific play areas have been built for them-there, and over there. There are others on the Outer Green, as well." He waved around at the residential areas outside the park. "Originally, you see, each of the five wedge-shaped main sections of the village was to be the property of one family. Over the years, unfortunately, three of the founding families have become split or diluted; these three," he added, indicating the directions. "Only the Sammon family and the Yithtra family remain as sole possessors of their sections."

  Jin nodded. Something bitter in his voice... "It sounds like you would prefer there to be only one such family," she commented without thinking.

  "Would that be your choice, as well?" he countered.

  She looked at him, startled by the question, to find his face had become a neutral mask. "The way your village chooses to live is hardly my business," she told him, choosing her words carefully. What kind of local politics had she stumbled into? "If it were all up to me, I would choose peace and harmony between all peoples."

  He eyed her in silence another moment before turning away. "Peace isn't always possible," he said tightly. "There are always some whose primary goal is the destruction of others."

  Jin licked her lips. Don't say it, girl, she warned herself. "Is that the Sammon family's goal?" she asked softly.

  He sent her a razor-edged look. "If you believe such a thing-" He broke off, looking annoyed with himself. "No, that is not our goal," he ground out.

  "There's far too much petty conflict between us-and I, for one, am tired of wasting my energy that way. Our true enemy lies out there, Jasmine Alventin; not in the cities or across village greens." He pointed at the sky.

  The true enemy: us. Me. Jin swallowed. "Yes," she murmured. "There are no real enemies here."

  Daulo took a deep breath. "Come," he said, starting back across the Small Ring

  Road. "I'll take you to the main marketplace in our section of the village.

  After that, perhaps you'd like to see the Outer Green and our lake."

  The marketplace was situated along one edge of the Sammon family's wedge, its placement clearly designed to get business from both its own section and the one across the spoke-road from it. It was also the most familiar thing Jin had yet found in Milika, an almost direct photocopy of the marketplaces her uncle had visited thirty years earlier. A maze of small booths where everything from food and animal pelts to building services and small electronic devices were available, the marketplace was crowded and noisy and just barely on the civilized side of pandemonium. Jin had never understood how anyone could actually shop in such a madhouse day after day without going insane; now that she was actually here, she understood it even less.

  And as they made their way through the crowds she kept an eye out for mojos.

  They were there, all right, silvery-blue hunting birds riding patiently on the special epaulet/perches she'd seen in the Qasaman films. Thirty years ago, virtually every adult had been accompanied by one of the birds; here and now, a quick estimate put the proportion with mojos no higher than twenty-five percent.

  So in the cities the mojos have largely disappeared, she decided, remembering her conversation with Daulo the previous night, while in the villages they're still a major force. Is that the "mojo question" Daulo mentioned?

  And was the mojo question one of the driving forces behind the village-city hostility she kept hearing about? If Qasama's city-based leaders had finally decided that having mojos around was dangerous, it would make sense for them to press the whole planet to get rid of them.

  Except that the villages couldn't do that. Whatever the long-term effects caused by mojos, it was an undeniable fact that they made uncommonly good bodyguards... and people out in the Qasaman forest definitely needed all the protection they could get. Jin could attest to that personally.

  So what it seemed to boil down to was that the Moreau Proposal to seed Qasama with spine leopards had indeed undermined the universal cooperation the Cobra

  Worlds had found so frightening... at a price of making the world even more dangerous for its inhabitants.

  There are always some whose primary goal is the destruction of all others, Daulo had said. Had the Cobra Worlds been guilty of that kind of arrogance? The thought made her stomach churn.

  Someone nearby was calling for a Jasmine Alventin... Oof-that's me, she realized abruptly. "I'm sorry, Daulo Sammon-what did you say?" she asked, feeling her cheeks redden with embarrassed anger at the slip.

  "I asked if there was anything you'd like to buy," Daulo repeated. "You lost everything in that car wreck, after all."

  Another test? Jin wondered, feeling her pulse pick up its pace. She had no idea what a normal Qasaman woman might have been carrying into the forest on a bug-hunting expedition. No, he's probably just being polite, she reminded herself. Don't get paranoid, girl... but don't get sloppy, either. "No, thank you," she told him. "I had nothing of real importance except clothing; if I may take some of the clothing your family has lent me when I go, I will be sufficiently in your debt."

  Daulo nodded. "Well, if something should occur to you, don't hesitate to let me know. Since you mention it, have you given any thought to when you might wish to leave?"

  Jin shrugged. "I don't wish to impose on your hospitality any longer than necessary," she said. "I could leave today, if I'm becoming a burden."

  Something flicked across his face. "If that's what you'd like, it can be arranged, of course," he said. "You're certainly no burden, though. And I'd counsel, moreover, that you stay until you're fully recovered from your ordeal."

  "There's that," she admitted. "I'd hate to collapse somewhere between Azras and

  Sollas-to find assistance elsewhere as caring as the Sammon family has been would be too much to ask."

  He snorted. "You've been taught the fine art of flattery, I see." Still, the statement seemed to please him.

  "Not really-just the fine art of truth," she countered lightly. Except for the grand lie I'm currently feeding you about myself. The thought brought heat to her cheeks; quickly, she looked around for something to change the subject.

  B
eyond the market to the northwest was an oddly shaped building. "What's that?" she asked, indicating it.

  "Just the housing for the mine elevators," he told her. "It's not very attractive, I'm afraid, but my father decided it had to be replaced too often to justify proper ornamentation."

  "Oh, that's right-your father mentioned a mine last night," Jin nodded. "What kind of mine is it?"

  Daulo threw her a very odd look. "You don't know?"

  Jin felt sweat breaking out on her forehead. "No. Should I?"

  "I'd have thought that anyone planning a trip would at least have learned something about the area to be visited," he said, a bit huffily.

  "My brother Mander did all the studying," she improvised. "He always took care of... the details." Unbidden, Mander Sun's face rose before her eyes. A face she'd never see again...

  "You cared a great deal for your brother, didn't you?" he asked, his tone a little softer.

  "Yes," she whispered, moisture blurring her vision. "I cared very much for

  Mander."

  For a moment they stood there in silence as the bustling marketplace crowds broke like noisy surf around them. "What's past cannot be changed," Daulo said at last, reaching down to briefly squeeze her hand. "Come; let me show you our lake."

  Given the overall size of Milika, Jin had envisioned the "lake" as a medium-sized duck pond sandwiched between road and houses; and it was a shock, therefore, to find a rippling body of water fully three-quarters of a kilometer long cutting across the Sammon section of Milika. "It's... big," she managed to say as they stood on the spoke-road bridge arching over the water.

  Daulo chuckled. "It is that," he agreed. "You'll notice it goes under the Great

  Ring Road over there and extends a way into the Outer Green. It's the source of all the water used in Milika, not to mention the obvious recreational benefits."

  "Where does the water come from?" Jin asked. "I haven't seen any rivers or creeks anywhere."

  "No, it's fed by an underwater spring. Or possibly an underwater river, tributary perhaps of the Somilarai River that passes north of here. No one really knows for sure."

  Jin nodded. "How important, if I may ask, is a nearby source of water to the operation of your mine?"

  Looking at the lake, she could still feel his eyes on her. "Not particularly," he said. "The mining itself doesn't use any, and the refining process is purely catalytic. Why do you ask?"

  She hesitated; but it was too late to back out now. "Earlier, you mentioned people who sought others' downfall," she said carefully. "Now I see that, along with the mine, your part of Milika also controls the village's water supply.

  Your family indeed has great power... and that sort of power often inspires others to envy."

  She counted ten heartbeats before he spoke again. "Why are you interested in the

  Sammon family?" he asked. "Or in Milika, for that matter?"

  It was a fair question. She'd already learned about all she really needed to about Qasama's village culture, and would at any rate be moving on within a day or two to scout out the cities. The political wranglings of a small village buried out in the forest ought to be low on her priority list. And yet... "I don't know," she said honestly. "Perhaps it's out of gratitude for your help; perhaps because I'm growing to feel a friendship for your family. For whatever reason, I care about you, and if there's any way I can help you I want to do so."

  She wasn't sure just what reaction she was expecting-acceptance, gratitude, even suspicion. But the snort of derision that exploded behind her ear took her completely by surprise. "You help us?" he said scornfully. "Wonderful. A woman with no family?-just what help do you propose to give?"

  Jin felt her cheeks burning. Count to ten, girl, she ordered herself, clamping down hard on her tongue. You're sliding way out of character. "I'm sorry," she said humbly through clenched teeth. "I didn't mean it that way. I just thought-well, even though my family's gone, I do have friends."

  "City friends?" he asked pointedly.

  "Well... yes."

  "Uh-huh." Daulo snorted again, gently, then sighed. "Let's just forget it,

  Jasmine Alventin. I appreciate the gesture, but we both know that's all it is."

  "I... suppose we do."

  "All right. Come, I'll take you across to the Outer Green."

  Gritting her teeth, she lowered her eyes like a good little Qasaman woman ought to and followed Daulo across the bridge.

  Chapter 19

  The courtyard outside Daulo's suite was dark, his late supper over and the dishes cleared away; and with the stillness and privacy came thoughts of Jasmine

  Alventin.

  He didn't want to think about her. In fact, he'd gone to great pains to immerse himself in work over the past few hours in order to avoid thinking about her.

  He'd ended their walking tour of Milika early in the afternoon, professing concern over her weakened condition, and gone directly back to the mine to watch the work on the shoring. After that, he'd come back to the house and spent a couple of hours poring over the stacks of paperwork that the mine seemed to generate in the same volume as its waste tailings. Now, having postponed eating so that he wouldn't have to face her over a common family meal, he'd hoped the fullness of his stomach would conspire with the pace of the day to bring sleep upon him.

  But it hadn't worked that way. Even while his body slumped on its cushions, numbed with food and fatigue, his mind raced ahead like a crazed bololin. With, of course, only one topic at its forefront.

  Jasmine Alventin.

  As a young boy the fable of the Gordian Knot had always been one of his favorites; as a young man one of his chief delights was the solving of problems that, like the Knot, had driven other men to despair. Jasmine Alventin was truly such a problem, a Gordian Knot in human guise.

  Unfortunately, it was a Knot that refused to unravel.

  With a sigh, he rolled off his cushions and got to his feet. He'd been putting this off for almost a day now, hoping in his pride that he could get a grip on this phantom without artificial assistance. But it wasn't working that way... and if there were even a slight chance that Jasmine Alventin was a danger to the

  Sammon family, it was his duty to do whatever was necessary to protect his household.

  His private drug cabinet was built into the wall as part of his bathroom vanity, a reinforced drawer with a lock strong enough to discourage even the most persistent of children. It had been barely a year now since his acceptance into this part of adult society, and he still felt a twinge of reflex nervousness every time he opened the drawer. It would pass with time, he'd been told.

  For a long moment he gazed in at the contents, considering which would be the best one to use. The four red-labeled ones-the different types of mental stimulants-drew his eye temptingly, but he left them where they were. As a general rule, the stronger the drug, the stronger the reaction afterward would be, and he had no particular desire to suffer a night of hellish dreams or to spend the coming day flat on his back with vertigo. Instead, he selected a simple self-hypnotic which would help him organize the known facts into a rational order. With luck, his own mind would be able to take it from there. If not... well, he would still have the mental stimulants in reserve.

  Returning to his cushions, he emptied the capsule into his incense burner and lit it. The smoke rose into the air, at first thin and fragrant, then increasingly heavy and oily smelling. And as it enveloped him, he took one more try at untying the Gordian Knot that was Jasmine Alventin.

  Jasmine Alventin. A mysterious young woman, survivor of an "accident" which no one had witnessed and which therefore no one could confirm. A suspiciously timed arrival at Milika, coincident with a flurry of activity by the Yithtra family's lumber business and fresh metals orders from the Mangus operation. Her speech that of a city-educated business mediator, yet her manners more befitting some ignorant outcast from polite society. And the things she said in that cultured voice-

  Even with the
artificial calmness of the hypnotic wrapped like a smoky cocoon around him, Daulo still gave muttered vent to his feelings about this one. I want to go with you, she'd said-as if going out in the dead of night to take care of a razorarm was the sort of thing women did all the time. Let me help you-totally laughable coming from a lone woman with neither family nor estate.

  It was as if she lived in her own private world. A private world with its own private rules.

  And yet she couldn't be dismissed simply as that sort of feeblebrained scatterhead. Every time he'd tried to do so she'd casually done or said something that painted an exact opposite side of her. A half-dozen examples came to mind, the most obvious being her casual understanding of the consequences of having Milika's lake on Sammon family territory. Even more disturbing, she had a distinct talent for deflecting questions that she didn't want to answer... and a talent like that required intelligence.