The Octagonal Raven

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “That’s … horrible.”

  I nodded slowly, not quite sure what she meant. So many aspects of what I’d discovered were horrible.

  “What do you think about the aliens?” I finally asked.

  “They are … or were real,” she said slowly. “From what you’ve said, and what I know, the original plague was probably their creation. After that …”

  “Eldyn?”

  Majora lifted her shoulders, dropping them as if helplessly. “It’s hard to believe, even for me, that anyone could be that angry, angry enough to kill children like Syrah.”

  “I think he was angry for a long time.”

  “But … children … people he didn’t even know?”

  I didn’t have an answer, not a good one. So I stood up and paced to the window, looking out into the garden, dark under dark gray clouds, dark in the growing dusk.

  “There’s more,” I said slowly. “Eldyn gave me the names he thought were behind trying to kill me and Elora. He thought they were after him, too, from the way he acted, but there’s no proof, not that would stand up before a justice or even convince an advocate general to investigate. No pre-select would waive privacy. I don’t have the resources or the infrastructure to strike back the way they struck at us, and I’m so exposed that if I tried anything direct, the CAs would be at my door in hours.”

  “Not today, or tomorrow,” Majora observed, pausing before adding quickly, “I’m not suggesting you do that. That just lowers you to their level.”

  “The way I feel, that wouldn’t bother me at all.”

  “The way you feel now. You have to live for more than now. You don’t want to end up like Eldyn, do you?”

  I didn’t, but, tired as I was, I was still shaking with rage — and frustration. The only man I knew with any degree of certainty who was responsible for any of the carnage was Eldyn, and he was dead. His wife was dead, and his daughter probably scared and hiding in fear. I could speculate about Eldyn, the aliens, the source of the octagonal pathogens, the names Eldyn had given me, but I had no proof … not of anything, except attempts on my life and people dying.

  I turned to Majora. “There’s another question. Why didn’t Eldyn make sure my father had the protective nanites?” I could see why he didn’t want to give them to Gerrat, although I wasn’t about to voice that thought.

  “Did he want your father to be protected?” Majora’s dark brown eyes looked shadowed in the dimness of the room. “He had to have considered who would be affected because you said he thought I’d be all right.”

  “Apparently they’re mobile. He actually asked if I’d slept with you.” I flushed.

  “You obviously thought about it.” She was blushing, too, and I could sense that, even if I couldn’t see it.

  I offered a smile. “I’ve been thinking about it more often.”

  “Daryn …”

  “I know. It’s a horrible time to say something like that.” I turned back to the window and stared at the grayness of the shadowed garden.

  There was a soft sound behind me, not quite a laugh nor a sob.

  After a moment, Majora spoke. “Daryn. We can’t do anything tonight. You really haven’t slept in three days. I didn’t sleep last night. Your eyes are red and about to become holes in your head. You’re going to stay here and get some sleep and some rest, and then we’ll look at things in the morning.”

  The thought of sleep, I had to admit, even sleeping alone, was welcome. The inadvertent yawn that followed emphasized how exhausted I felt.

  Exhausted and numb.

  * * *

  Chapter 56

  Helnya

  * * *

  Although the sleep had been welcome, I was up not that much after dawn, worried, and looking out on the garden, where the morning sunlight had already turned the golden daffodils into bright circles of light.

  “Would you like some Grey tea?” Majora asked, slipping up behind me and resting her hands gently on my shoulders for just an instant.

  I turned. She was wearing the loose gray exercise clothes and a warm smile. Her brown eyes were tired, but warm as well.

  “Please.”

  “How did you sleep?”

  “Well enough, until I woke up. What about you?”

  “About the same. I kept thinking about Syrah. I have trouble when children or innocents die.”

  “So do I.” That was part of the problem. Most of the time, when someone wanted to control something, everyone else suffered. For all Eldyn’s insanity and faults — if he had done what he had said he had — he had placed a price on all of us who were pre-selects. Defining people only as members of groups depersonalized each person, and that meant too many people suffered. And for what? Because we had adopted a social structure that rewarded ability imperfectly? It wasn’t as though the pre-selects had gone out to subjugate the norms.

  I paused.

  Or was it? How far back did it go? Had the ancestor of TanUy actually thought out the implications of the PIAT? I shivered. While it would have been easy to dismiss Eldyn as a grief-stricken and crazed scientist, that felt wrong. Someone had been trying to kill me, Elora, and even Eldyn long before Eldyn’s plague had been loosed. And no one had been trying to help Eldyn, except perhaps Elora, and she was dead.

  Majora slipped, gracefully for a woman so tall, to the replicator, and I just watched, enjoying looking at her, seeing warmth and solidity in an uncertain time.

  “The tea is ready.” Majora set it on the table, along with a second steaming mug.

  I sat down across the table from her.

  “What are you going to do about UniComm?” she asked after I’d taken the first sip.

  The question took me with the force of a punch, and, had I been standing, I probably would have staggered. What was I going to do about UniComm? Gerrat and Father were dead, and I was the largest living stakeholder. Now, I not only had to worry about whoever was trying to kill me, and deal with Father’s and Gerrat’s deaths … but UniComm, and UniComm might make me an even bigger target — when I still had but a general idea of what was going on. Eldyn had suggested that I would take over UniComm — and what he had meant hadn’t even registered at the time, certainly not in the way he had meant it.

  After a moment, I said. “I really hadn’t thought about it, not that way. I should have, I suppose, but … with everything that’s happened … I didn’t.”

  “You mean, after four attempts on your life, the death of your brother and your father, armed thugs trying to destroy you, and a fifth of the pre-selects in the world dying or likely to die … you didn’t think about what might happen to the family institution?” Majora’s tone was somewhere between gently ironic and sympathetic. She stood. “We need something to eat before you make any decisions.”

  “Would you mind if I used your system to access mine?” Technically, I wouldn’t actually be going into hers for that, but I didn’t want to do anything without asking. I’d imposed far too much already.

  The smile that came before the “Not at all” was more than worth my effort, and while she fiddled with the replicator, I accessed my gatekeeper using Majora’s system, rather than my belt repeater. Sure enough, there was a message from Brin Drejcha, the managing director of UniComm. He didn’t say much, but suggested it might be best if I contacted him at my earliest convenience.

  There was also one from my mother. Her eyes were sunken and hollow, and her hair, usually shining and brown, looked more like straw. Her face was ashen. But her voice was firm. “I’m back at home, Daryn. They say I’ll recover. We need to talk, and if you can get here today, it would be a good idea.”

  Those were the only messages.

  Majora looked at me as she set down a plate that held some sort of omelet.

  I sniffed, catching the scents of cheese and mushrooms and spices. “Thank you. She’s very strong … and very strong-minded.”

  “Doesn’t run in the family, does it?”

  “Not at all.”
<
br />   “You ought to eat before you return those calls,” Majora suggested.

  I didn’t need much urging. I did stop after the first few mouthfuls. “This is good. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  Majora looked up from a mouthful of omelet and swallowed. “Better. But I still feel like everything is almost dream-like.”

  “Nightmare-like.” I took a sip of tea. “That’s because we live such isolated lives.”

  “You’ve wanted it that way, Daryn.”

  “I know. I know. Then, something like this makes you think. I was off-planet when the last plague hit, and I didn’t think it was as bad. No one in my family even got sick.”

  “Both my parents died in it.”

  I winced. She’d told me, and I’d forgotten. I shouldn’t have.

  “It’s all right.” She reached across the table and touched my hand. “I felt detached then, for a long time. I suppose that’s why it hurts so much to lose Melanyi and Syrah.”

  “There’s no one left?”

  She nodded.

  I felt worse than ever. I still had my mother, and probably would for years. I had — hopefully — Kharl and other people in the family, and Rhedya’s and Gerrat’s children. Majora had no one.

  After standing, I stepped around the table and put my hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

  For just a moment, she leaned her head back against me. Then she put on a smile. “Thank you. You need to call some people. I’ll clean up the dishes, such as they are.”

  “I can help.”

  She was already on her feet. “Just make your calls, and then get yourself cleaned up. You need to deal with things.”

  So did she, but I didn’t argue. I took her hands. “I’m so glad you are who you are.”

  She squeezed my fingers before disengaging her hands from mine.

  I wasn’t quite sure what else to say.

  She picked up the platters and moved to the kitchen area.

  Before talking to Mother, I decided to call my own solicitor — Anna Mayo — she of the fine old Celtic name, if young and ambitious. Her office sim appeared, looking just like her. Slender, blonde, fine-featured, with eyes like blue agate, and the impression that her entire frame was some form of lithe, but indestructible, composite. “Please leave your coordinates and a brief message. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  “Anna. This is Daryn Alwyn. I think we need to talk. I hope you’re all right. If you are and you can, contact me at my place.” I looked at Majora.

  She nodded.

  “Or at this place.” I gave the codes for Majora’s system.

  I had barely showered and cleaned up when Majora called me.

  “It’s the solicitor.”

  Anna’s blond hair, cut shorter than that portrayed by the sim, was askew, and there was a smudge of black on her usually immaculate chin. “Daryn, you contacted me. I’m sorry, but it’s been a busy time. It’s likely to get busier.”

  “I understand. I may need your services as well. I just discovered that I’m one of the last survivors in the family business, and one of the largest single stakeholders. I have a few concerns about what the management may do.…”

  “You may be the largest stakeholder, Daryn, but you don’t have any official position in UniComm. That means you have no authority, not until you can call a special meeting, and usually, under Federal Union law, you need twenty percent of the outstanding stock, and the company is allowed up to forty-five days to comply.”

  “What if I can get someone to give me a position — say acting senior director? Then what?”

  “Then you can do whatever that position, and Federal Union law, will let you.” She glanced past me, as if someone had come into her office. “Is there anything else?”

  “There will be, but I need to think, and you have other clients.”

  She smiled, almost warmly. “Thank you.”

  After her image faded, I looked out at the sunlit garden, then turned toward the replicator, where I punched the codes for another cup of Grey tea. I probably needed more than that, but the tea was safer.

  “How are you going to do that, Daryn?” asked Majora. “Get a position.”

  “Ask.” I smiled.

  She nodded. “No one’s likely to refuse you, are they?”

  “They might. I wouldn’t, not in their singlesuits, since I’m the only living Alwyn of majority age besides my mother, and the largest single stockholder, although I’ll try not to press that one. I doubt anyone knows that, not with all the chaos.”

  I wondered. Should I return Drejcha’s call … or my mother’s? I opted for the UniComm director. He was in.

  The round-faced and dark-haired director leaned forward as if to study me — or my rather unkempt image. “I appreciate your getting back to me.”

  “I apologize for my appearance, but I’ve just returned from a long trip, and … well … matters have been rather unsettled.”

  “I can understand that.” Drejcha said carefully. “I wish it had not been necessary to contact you under such trying circumstances.”

  I wondered why he had. Certainly, UniComm could continue for quite some time without an Alwyn in immediate control. “Obviously, there are some urgencies to be considered.”

  “Not necessarily urgent, but matters that need settling.… I would not wish to intrude in this time of grief.”

  “I understand. Father would have, also.” I pursed my lips, tilted my head, as if thinking, although I knew exactly what I needed to do, as far as UniComm happened to be concerned. “Perhaps I should come in and talk with you.”

  “With the plague, I had thought …”

  “I’ve already survived it,” I said. “So that’s not a concern. I do believe we should talk in person, and despite the unhappy circumstances, sooner is probably better.”

  “You have not taken an active role in UniComm.…” He let the words die away.

  “There wasn’t much need to, with Gerrat and my father so involved. I have been quite active in the field, though, but I’m sure we can discuss the details when we meet.” I offered a broad and winning smile.

  Drejcha actually moistened his lips. “I had hoped that we could continue with a minimum of disruption.…”

  “I agree, and I think how that’s done is something that’s best discussed in person … don’t you?”

  “Tomorrow?” he suggested.

  “Ten in the morning?” I countered.

  “That … would be agreeable.”

  “I’ll see you then,” I said with a smile.

  Once the connection was clear, I turned to Majora, who had stayed out of the pick-up range and watched and listened. “What do you think?”

  “He’s under pressure. He also wanted your approval to run things.”

  “But why? He’s the managing director.”

  “He’s uneasy. That’s clear. He probably wanted to tell people that you’d agreed that he should stay in charge.”

  “I just wish I knew more.”

  “That’s why you’re going to meet him,” Majora pointed out in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Not for the first time, nor the last, I suspected, I again wished I knew far more about what was going on with UniComm.

  I tried my parents’ house. Mother’s sim appeared, then vanished without speaking. She appeared, propped in an easy chair in her study. Her eyes were red and sunken.

  “How are you?” I asked immediately.

  “Tired, worn-out, but I’ll survive. Lecia’s here, and she’s rooting around to make sure everything’s in shape.”

  I laughed. Knowing my Aunt Lecia, far more abrupt than Mother, I could understand that. “I just got your message.”

  “Daryn … this is a less than opportune time, but I do think that we should talk over a few things.”

  “So do I. When would be a good time?”

  “If it would not inconvenience you too much, this mo
rning would be better.”

  “I’ll be there shortly.”

  “Good.” Mother broke the connection before I could.

  For a moment, I sat there. Mother was usually far less direct. That meant she was tired or worried or both. Weren’t we all, though?

  I turned to Majora. “How would you like a job as special assistant to the about-to-be-acting senior director of UniComm?”

  “You seem rather sure of that.”

  “I’m trying to be positive. If it doesn’t work, and we have to try an outside takeover, then I’ll think about all the difficulties that we’ll face.”

  “For someone who wanted nothing to do with the family trade …” Majora shook her head.

  “Part of it is that I’m one of the few left. Part of it is that using UniComm is about the only way I can see to stop the attacks and find out how everything goes together.”

  “And part of it is that you don’t like to feel helpless,” she added with a faint smile.

  I shrugged. She was right. Very right. I hated it. “Do you want to come with me? To Mother’s?”

  She shook her head. “I have work to do, and I’d like to get a little exercise. If I take a position as someone’s special assistant, I won’t have much time for that. Besides, your mother doesn’t want me around. Not now.”

  Mother would have liked Majora around me a lot more, and I was beginning to see why, and wondering why I hadn’t seen that before. Because I automatically had rejected so much planned by my parents?

  “You’ll be careful?” I asked Majora.

  “I’ll be careful, but you need to be even more careful.” She smiled. “You’re ready. Go … and let this woman have some time to herself.”

  I returned the smile, and I made sure to hug her before I headed out to the glider.

  * * *

  Chapter 57

  Yunvil

  * * *

  The gliderways were far less crowded than normal, but that might also have been because I took a route that kept me away from the centers of both Helnya and Yunvil. I also listened to the audio of AllNews. I didn’t want to turn the glider on automatic to watch the glider’s small holo display.