by Allen Wold
"These people did."
"So it would seem, if this is any evidence. I know plenty of good markets for material like this. The universities for whom I collect will be more than eager to buy these, and they will be in a place where they can be seen and studied, rather than hidden away in private collections or lost or destroyed by those who don't appreciate them. Getting permission to work on Dannon's Keep will be tricky though. Where is the rest of the stuff, not here I hope?"
"No," Rikard said, "it's not. I don't have it anymore." He felt his voice weaken, and cleared his throat. He had a hard time meeting Gawin's eyes, though his uncle said nothing. "It's damn embarrassing," he said at last, "but you remember Karyl Toerson?"
"Yes," Gawin said. He didn't like the memory.
"She got the drop on us when we came out of the cone and took everything except what I had in my pockets." Rikard waved at the few things on the low table.
"I was afraid of something like this," Gawin said. He stood and turned away from Rikard and his companions. "I was hoping she had died on Trokarion."
"I felt so stupid when she caught us like that," Rikard said. "It was as if she knew even before we did where we would have to come out of the cone."
Gawin turned back and looked at him sharply. Rikard returned the stare, then told briefly about the cave-in and their search for another exit.
"I think you were set up," Gawin said. "But what I don't like is how she knew you were on Dannon's Keep at all."
"I wasn't being overly cautious," Rikard said.
"I still think she's following you too closely. If she's gotten to you the last two times, you'd better take precautions to prevent a third time."
"I intend to—if there is a third time. But I know a few things too, Uncle Gawin, and if I don't want her to find me, she won't."
"Don't be so sure. She's got more resources than we know about. I knew her a long time ago, and she was more than a match for most adventurers then. She's just gotten better, that's all, and she's had a lot more experience than you have. She's bad, Rikard, very bad, and the fact that she hit you twice implies that she's watching you, in particular, and picking on you on purpose. And getting good stuff isn't the only reason."
"What other reason could there be?"
"Personal vengeance. Against me, perhaps." His thoughts seemed to turn inward. "You would be well advised to just assume that whatever your next exploit, Toerson will be there too, and be prepared to deal with her." He looked at Rikard again, and his voice became harsh. "But don't kill her, for God's sake, or there will be worse hell to pay."
Rikard was surprised at this display of anger and hatred. It kept him from asking what his uncle had meant. All he said was, "Whatever you say, Uncle Gawin."
Gawin closed his eyes for a moment and took several deep breaths, then he gestured at the objects on the table and Rikard put them back in his pockets. Then Gawin rose, shook himself as if shaking off a mood, and said, "I think it's time for dinner. Will you join me?" He smiled at Grayshard and Droagn.
"We would be delighted," Droagn said for all three.
* * * *
Rikard woke up late the next morning, feeling somewhat the worse for the evening's festivities. Fortunately, there was Kerotone in the medical dispenser. He took one of the antihangover pills, showered, dressed, and went out into the parlor. His companions were both already up.
"Can you eat? Droagn asked.
"I think so."
"Good. Your uncle has called up twice already. Let's have breakfast."
Their guide from yesterday met them in the lobby again. But instead of just leading them, this time she showed them how to get to the breakfast room, so that they wouldn't need her in the future. Rikard paid close attention, in case he wanted to do a little exploring on his own later.
Gawin was away on business, so they breakfasted alone. Human staff took care of their needs, appropriate food according to each taste was brought, and though it was a pleasant enough hour, Rikard was disappointed that he hadn't come down in time to see his uncle. Of course, it was his own fault.
As they were finishing up, a woman named Andrefs came in to suggest that they spend some time in the pool. Even Grayshard agreed, to Rikard's surprise. Andrefs took them to the pool area, explaining as they went how they could find it from anywhere in the estate.
It proved to be an elaborate enclosed place, with a glass ceiling and rather warm air. There were private lockers where Rikard found a suit that fit and pleased him. Droagn, of course, just removed his harness and hung it over a chaise, and Grayshard took out his vocalizer.
The water was quite hot at one end, quite cool at the other, and graded between. One side of the pool was only ten centimeters deep, but the other side was ten meters deep, with a variety of diving boards. In the very middle was a constant slow whirlpool.
After a bit a servant came with a tray of drinks and snacks. They lounged around, soaked some more, and then Andrefs came to tell them that it was time for lunch. When they had put themselves together she took them to the balcony where, today, the meal was being served. Gawin was waiting for them.
They had a light but perfect late lunch, accompanied by light and comfortable conversation. At one point Rikard asked if he could make use of Gawin's comcon system.
"Certainly, that's what it's there for."
"You don't mind if I tap into the central system?"
Gawin smiled. "Whatever you can figure out how to do, you may do—and don't worry about long-distance charges."
Rikard stared at him blankly for a moment, then felt his face redden.
After lunch Gawin had more business, so Rikard and his companions returned to their suite. Droagn selected a book of poems and went to his room to nap. pray shard bundled himself into a very large chair in the parlor where he could spread his fibers out and just sat there. Rikard sat down at the main comcon and familiarized himself with the keyboard.
Rikard was an historian by training and profession, no matter how he actually spent his time. Specifically, he was a local historian, duly licensed and accredited, one of those who specialized in learning in depth about specific places, rather than in breadth about larger segments of the Federation, or about the Federation as a whole. He had all the credentials he needed to gain access to governmental documents, university archives, public depositories, and even the right to pursue private libraries if he could demonstrate a true need. Adventurer he might be, rogue and Gesta in fact, but the secrets of the past were what truly fascinated him, though he seldom admitted it, even when he struggled to gain some degree of acceptance in the academic community.
And the part of the past that interested him now was that of this particular world, which bore the same name as his mother's family.
He first had to establish his presence legally. It was a formality, but one in which he indulged, just in case there were questions later. That done he identified the probable location of the largest history database, and found that rather than in a university, it was a part of the government records office. He connected through. Grayshard, in his chair, seemed to roil slowly for a moment, like noodles in boiling water. Rikard did not ask what he was doing.
A large part of the government records were not public. Rikard could gain access to much of them if he wished, but first he looked for history synopses. These he founds—military, economic, extraplanetary, and so on. He wanted dates, the earliest records available. A bibliography gave him what he needed.
There were several conspicuous breaks in the record. Everything before a certain date was represented only by later publications, and there was a long interregnum during which nothing was published at all. There were other minor gaps, times when few books were printed, and once a year of absolutely nothing though there were plenty of later books referring to that time.
He located a child's text covering the earliest history of Malvrone, written some half century after the commencement of publications. As it turned out, Malvrone was nearly
a thousand years older than that, had been colonized from Humankind's home world, had been a secondary colony, and had suffered a complete social collapse following separation from the home world. This hiatus had lasted three generations, during which much was destroyed. When calmer minds regained control and began reconstruction, a man named Victor Malvrone had been chairman of the committee to reestablish connection with the rest of the civilized worlds, and had helped to establish the interplanetary nature of his world's government. On his death, he was honored by naming the planet after him. Before that it had been called "Earth," and as a colony had been known as Greenleigh.
Following the record from there was more difficult. The information was available, but a proper search would take several months. Rikard wanted only a sketch at this time. By examining the indices of various texts and encyclopedias he was able to learn that the Malvrone family remained prominent, though not necessarily in power, at least up to the time of the next major hiatus in the record. And while there could have been other families with the same name, he found no immediate reference to them, so pending further research and confirmation, he felt it safe to assume that his mother's family was at least descended from the original Victor Malvrone. Quite something to be proud of.
He was roused from his studies by the arrival of his uncle. There was some time before dinner yet, so Gawin took them to see some of the artworks he kept for himself, in his personal gallery.
Which proved to be the equivalent of-any well-endowed civic museum, with paintings, sculptures, fiber pieces, holography and photography, sensory daises, and so on. It covered maybe a hectare on three levels. There was too much to see at once, so they just looked at what caught their interest at the moment, and Gawin provided them with comments about the various cultures, species, and star nations that produced them, and how each item had been acquired and from whom.
Dinner was somewhat more formal than it had been the day before. There were two other guests, associates of Gawin's who had come on business. Ben Shadan and Ainette Delacroy were both legitimate dealers who were interested in purchasing some of the works of the Federation's hottest new graphic artist, Lei Ffraab, for whom Gawin was the primary agent. They were somewhat taken aback at the appearance of the Ahmear and the Vaashka, much to Gawin's amusement, and the first part of the meal went by with no more business than getting acquainted. Grayshard, out of consideration for the Humans present, consumed his meal from an enclosed container, but Droagn insisted on his large chunks of raw meat, and when Delacroy muttered something about it, he mentioned that the shellfish that she was eating had been boiled alive, which fact bothered him.
Ben Shadan and Ainette Delacroy represented different galleries, and each was looking for recent examples of Ffraab's work to offer for sale. The prices her works were bringing more than justified the expense of a personal visit to Gawin, her agent, rather than an impersonal interplanetary call. After all, though others could arrange for showings, only Gawin Malvrone could mediate any sale of Ffraab's work, first or subsequent, for which, of course, he got a considerable commission. Ffraab's most recent graphics were being auctioned on Kelgar, and Gawin was committed to that, but he knew of several pieces she had produced last year that might be available. This was interesting to the dealers, if not exactly what they were looking for, and they worked out a deal.
The negotiations made dinner run late, but Gawin's staff seemed more than ready for the consequences, and kept the meal going with additional little courses Rikard had no experience with, but which kept everybody eating and drinking for as long as the conversation continued.
After dinner and the deal were both finished it was quite late, but nobody was in the mood to move very far or very fast for a few moments. Then Ainette Delacroy seemed to think of something, and asked Gawin about his stellar model of the Federation, created by the late Mathis Evanrood.
"Yes," Gawin said, "I still have that."
"There's not another one like it that I know of," Ben Shadan said. "Do you suppose we could see it?"
"I'd be more than happy to show it to you," Gawin said and cast a querying glance at Rikard.
"Why not?" Rikard said, and Droagn and Grayshard expressed interest as well.
As it turned out, it was the most spectacular thing Rikard had yet seen in this house of spectacular art and architecture. The model was fully ten meters in diameter, contained in a large dark chamber with galleries around it at three levels. Each star was represented by a tiny light, in perfect size and color scale. One could move around the whole display, and by merely speaking the name of a star, or a planet, have the system in question highlighted by an ultraviolet sphere. If two stars were named in sequence, they were both highlighted and common star routes were displayed as red hairlines. At the appropriate command, a star's system of planets could be expanded so that each world was visible in its current position. On the floor and on each of the galleries was a station from which one's view could be projected into the model, as if one were flying as a giant among the stars. It was a spectacle unlike any Rikard had ever experienced. Only his conversations five years ago with the Taarshome, the energy beings that had been the first sentients in the galaxy, had anything to compare.
* * * *
The next day Gawin was again busy in the morning, and Andrefs suggested that Rikard and his companions look over the formal gardens, which they did, finding them quite extensive, complex, and bizarre.
But as they walked among the flowering shrubs, miniature trees, beds of meter-wide flowers or millimeter blooms, animated bushes, and ornamental grasses, Rikard couldn't help but wonder more about his family's connections with the planet. Droagn was curious too, and even Gray shard expressed some interest. They cut their tour short, and since there was some time yet before lunch, they returned to their suite to pursue the subject further.
Rikard connected through to the comcon center and, instead of going back into the history section, looked up Malvrone's government directly. There was plenty of public information, though it took Rikard's special knowledge of how to search the data in order to find anything particular.
Like most worlds, local representatives were elected by the people living in a particular area, but unlike other systems, the representatives in turn elected their directors according to function rather than location, and the directors, who made up the general board, appointed the Planetary Board, of one hundred people, who were the administration of the corporation that was the planet Malvrone.
But the officers of the Planetary Board were hereditary. There were ten of them, plus the executives of the Corporation itself, who were also hereditary. Rikard's grandfather, Artos Lord Malvrone, was the current chairman, and Rikard's grandmother, Vikaria Lady Malvrone, was the president.
In other words, his mother's family's titles were not empty, as his mother had always maintained, nor were they now nor ever had they been poor. In essence, Artos and Vikaria owned and operated the planet and all its wealth and influence in the Federation.
There was no confusion about it, no ambiguity. Rikard read over the texts four or five times, and it always came out the same. He had nothing to say, and neither did Droagn nor Grayshard.
They met Gawin for lunch in a small, cozy room decorated with prints and flowers. Rikard did his best to keep up simple conversation, and did not bring up the topic of his discovery, not sure just where Gawin, who held a corporate yet nonvoting title, fit into the scheme of things. Yet in all the time Rikard had known him, in the years before his mother had died, and since, Gawin had never said anything about it, had never disillusioned Rikard or contradicted what Sigra had told him.
"You seem to be a bit distracted," Gawin said at one point.
"I'm sorry," Rikard said as he tried to remember what his uncle had been talking about. "I guess I'm just not used to having nothing to do."
"I have no obligations after lunch," Gawin said. "Would you like to see my library?"
"I would indeed," Rikard said, t
hough he didn't really feel that enthusiastic.
But once in the library, his enthusiasm didn't have to be feigned, and he was grateful for a distraction to take his mind off his discovery. Here were all kinds of books, including several of those he had brought back from the Ahmear city under New Darkon. There were paper books, leather books (but no illuminated manuscripts, which were kept elsewhere), card books, disks, and tapes. There were electronic books similar to the Ahmear texts, scrolls, accordion folds, and replicas of masterpieces or items too fragile or valuable to be touched.
There were a lot of books on architecture, even more on art, and technology of all sorts. There were science texts and popular texts and social sciences and psychology. There were novels, plays, poems, whatever one might want, all catalogued according to the Larson System that had been designed to facilitate retrieval of specialized topics as well as being all inclusive and infinitely expansible, and the catalogue was available on dedicated screens located at the end of each aisle and on swing-up decks attached to each table or easy chair.
And while a lot of the books were for show, or because Gawin was a natural collector, he had actually read a lot of them. Reading was his preferred form of solitary entertainment, and he knew his way around his library.
When they had seen enough of that, Gawin took them to a series of chambers high in a distant part of the house where he kept his secret pride. This was a collection of miniature castles, all built at a scale of one to one hundred. Each was from a different culture, from a variety of species, from a broad range of ages, but all were medieval in terms of their builders. Each was an authentic reproduction of a castle that had once existed, and could open in several ways to reveal the interior. Gawin had a staff of twenty craftsmen working on new models and maintenance and repair at all times.
Rikard was impressed, and would have been more than fascinated, except for what he had found out that morning about his family's position in this world's affairs. And at last he decided he had to admit to his uncle what he had discovered.