The Tomorrow Log and Dragon Tide

by Sharon Lee

  "That is correct."

  "And very complex."

  "This is, you understand, the reason I did not wish to bring the matter before the full committee, but rather to refer it to yourself."

  "Of course."

  There was silence for a moment. The scholar sipped his wine, appeared to take momentary and intense counsel of himself, which was his character—and inclined his head.

  "Lady, I believe that I must tell you all. There are a number of us—members of another organization which also believes in the purity of Liaden ways—who are distressed by the unexpected and precipitous withdrawal of Korval from Liad. It appears to us that under the stewardship of yos'Galan Korval's strength, which is at the heart of Liad's strength—as I need not say!—has been dissipated."

  "I see," she said evenly, veteran of many a difficult social evening. "Certainly, I can understand how so forward-looking an individual as yourself might become concerned for the health of the homeworld."

  "Even so." The man sipped of his wine before continuing.

  "And so, you see, my question is a true one, best not shared until we—you and I—come to agreement, with appropriate citations.

  "We—my organization—have been in search of the one of Line yos'Phelium beside yourself to have been properly active in society for this last decade, the one who understands the necessities of melant'i and Code very nearly as much as yourself, the one who is welcome at all events of social significance . . . ."

  She was, in fact, startled, but the dice were hers now, and she must throw in order to understand the game.

  So she murmured, in an accent of perhaps slightly bored interest, "You speak, I think, of my heir Pat Rin yos'Phelium?"

  "Exactly so! If you could assist us in locating him, we feel that Korval might find itself as strong—stronger—than ever. You, of course, would continue to be the guiding light, elevated to a position, dare I say, more public . . ."

  "Ah, but do you know?" she interrupted, maintaining her tone of vague boredom. "I have not been in touch with my son for some time. I believe he travels on pleasure just now—widely, and at whim."

  The scholar inclined his head. "Of course. Indeed. We had ourselves thought we had established his location, but apparently . . . ."

  Established his location? Perhaps it was astonishment she felt. Perhaps it was—surely not!—fear.

  "My son sometimes prefers to game away from the limelight," she reminded the scholar gently.

  "As you say. It is merely . . . ." His voice trailed off.

  Kareen inclined her head in courteous inquiry. "Merely?"

  "My organization—we wish, very much, to speak with him; to . . . illuminate his role in planetary destiny. If yos'Galan has fled the planet, we believe that Code and Council together may act to ensure that Korval lives, and thrives . . . ."

  Kareen bowed.

  "I thank you for your clarification. However, I believe I am hardly worthy of the honor of having my son named as Korval. There exists the small difficulty of the lack of a piloting license . . . ."

  "Ah, but that is why I have come to you!" he exclaimed, his eyes taking fire as they had so often in the past, delighting in the exercise of his considerable intellect. "Surely one who inherits upon abandonment would not be required to follow the strictures of those who had all but caused the Clan to be dissolved. Indeed, to avoid an unseemly and disruptive public challenge to this adjustment we are in the process of insuring that those who have fled Liad, leaving Korval weakened and vulnerable, will not return."

  Kareen sipped the wine, feeling the need of it. Really, it was the best in her cellar, and she would miss it, were it gone. Just as she would miss the library, and indeed, the acclamation of her peers.

  As she missed, from time to time, the outré and unfortunately brilliant presence of her brother Daav, as little love as had been lost between them. Indeed, she felt his lack keenly, just now.

  Well.

  She bowed a bow.

  "Scholar, our discussion has quickened my memory. The answer, I believe, will be found within the Simestan Chronicles. As I recall that Line—"

  "But, of course!" he said, his thought taking fire from hers, as it so often had, over the years. "Yes, I recall it! The mine collapse which took the house and all of the Clan save the—"

  "Indeed. I have the full and certified records here. If you would be so good to ascend the ladder? The volumes are three shelves down from the ceiling, quite nearly before you, bound in lavender leather. I have no doubt that some in council might be brought to see the correlations . . ."

  The scholar, her friend, smiled, and ran to the ladder, moving it carefully across the floor.

  Kareen glanced down, admiring the handloomed carpet, made some centuries ago for the founder of this library of Code and conduct. She would regret being parted from it.

  The scholar had climbed quickly; he was already reaching for the books she had specified.

  Kareen sighed, and set her glass aside, quite steadily. She had always wished to see her son properly acknowledged.

  * * *

  Jelaza Kazone

  The robot was—very likely—the only robot on Liad which was not only capable of doing household chores but of knowing precisely when they needed to be done. It was also the only robot on planet which knew when attending to the social needs of cats was more important than polishing old silver.

  Thus, when the annunciator for the phone went off, the robot was stroking several middling cats in the garden rather than working in the kitchen, as the image it projected to the phone suggested.

  Although Miss Anthora had been napping, the house told him that she was now awake and on her way to the kitchen viewer, that being the unit where she took those calls which might require direct access to the house net or to the files the robot held of itself. Miss Anthora's abilities being of a different order than its own, though certainly reliable, the robot likewise began to move toward the kitchen, its wheeled chassis considerably slower than her light-footed run—and made slower by the necessity to move or carry cats.

  In the meantime, it accessed the incoming call.

  "I have the honor of being Lady Kareen yos'Phelium," an entirely familiar voice stated. "Jeeves, please ascertain as best you may that I am who I say I am."

  "Working," intoned the robot, quickly confirming the origin of the call and utilizing stored cues, confirming that the call was in fact being made from Lady Kareen's own library. An anomaly was noted: Lady Kareen had never before addressed him directly—or by his name.

  The other cues he could take in full or in part over the apparatus: voice pattern, tone, word pattern, partial retinal and other scans, muscle matching—all tended to confirm her identity, as did the fact that the call had bypassed the general screening devices and had activated Daav yos'Phelium's blinking blue "Kareen warning" light on the kitchen unit—an additional fact that he discovered upon his arrival, scant seconds before Miss Anthora.

  "Confirmed, Lady Kareen yos'Phelium."

  "Thank you," said the lady, and this, too, was the first time she had directed such polite words to him rather than to a human in the household.

  "Jeeves, I require assistance. I understand that you may have special knowledge in an area . . . ."

  Anthora arrived, activated the kitchen view screen—and blinked, clearly non-plussed. She made a quick recover, however, and inclined her head courteously.

  "Cousin Kareen? How may we assist you, ma'am?"

  "Anthora." Relief showed in an infinitesimal relaxation of the muscles in the lady's face. "I am in need of information from Jeeves. It is necessary that my house be destroyed."

  Stored data told Jeeves that this was an unusual request, even from one of Korval's Line Direct. Clearly, Miss Anthora found it so. "Cousin?"

  "I have just now shot Scholar Her Nin yo'Vestra in the spine and in the head; he is not recoverable. I must now insure that he is not easily found and that my library is unavailable to assist the org
anization of which he was a member." The lady's voice was steady, even stern. It fell to Anthora to cry out, in frank horror—

  "Cousin, Scholar yo'Vestra was one of your oldest acquaintances!"

  "I will grieve later," Kareen yos'Phelium said, sternness perhaps increasing. "He attempted to bribe me to overthrow the Line Direct in favor of my heir! I must make my library unavailable and do whatever else may be done to hinder this—organization. He—spoke of insuring that those of us who have fled will not return, and I am not fool enough to believe that he simply sought to buy them off. Indeed, the notion that we could be bought . . . No. Cousin, let me make haste—permit Jeeves to tell me how to burn . . . ."

  Anthora shook her head. "That will not be necessary, cousin. If need be, I can burn your house from here. But your books . . . ."

  "In my absence, the books endanger Liad—most especially my private indexes and searches, and the catalog of incomplete debts—"

  "Yes, but Cousin Kareen," Anthora interrupted, "why are you here—on Liad? Surely the children . . . Plan B . . ."

  The lady made a sign of impatience. "I have been through this once with Luken bel'Tarda! Necessity. Now, attend me, if you please! My library must not fall into the hands of Korval's enemies. I have here, for an example, partial copies of diary entries outlining the early Plan B arrangements. We must not . . . ."

  "Yes, I begin to see." Anthora inclined her head. Jeeves, who knew her well, was not deceived by her seeming acquiescence to her cousin's necessities.

  "If you will permit my discretion in the disposal of your library and house," she continued, "I will undertake the task. How long do you think it will take you to be gone?"

  "Please give me to the beginning of the next hour. I will away as I came."

  "It will be done as you have said."

  "Flaran cha'menthi, Anthora," the lady said, fervently.

  "Flaran cha'menthi, cousin. For us, it is necessity."

  The screen blanked.

  "Jeeves?"

  "Working, Miss. There are signs of attempts to intercept this communications. Someone is aware that Lady Kareen's unit has been used, and when. I find no indication that it was traced past the second relay, but we must assume that they have been alerted."

  "Thank you, Jeeves. I will be working from the garden, beneath the Tree. Please ask Merlin to join me there. When I am through, I will wish to have a meal."

  "Yes, Miss Anthora."

  She had scarcely taken two steps toward the garden door when the annunciator blared again, simultaneous with the flash of the blue warning light. Anthora jumped, her hand slapping the toggle, and Lady Kareen's image came into view.

  This time, her face held elements of that emotion known as panic.

  "Cousin, I beg that you will not fire the house so soon," she said, her voice perhaps shaking. "The public and the private exits are watched. I believe . . ." She looked sharply aside. "I believe that I am trapped."

  * * *

  The Grand Lake Townhouses

  Solcintra

  She'd briefly felt despair, surely that was the word for it, but as irony would have it, the call on the alternate pocket comm from Jeeves had led her away from that unproductive emotion and toward some measure of composure. As surely as there were alternate means of communication, there were alternatives available to one of Korval—for one born of the Line—in reaction to the hasty and ill-considered action of an enemy. Panic was not an option. Panic, so she had been taught by her mother, killed: passengers, ships. Pilots.

  "Lady Kareen," came Jeeves' voice from the pocket comm. "Miss Anthora has requested that we permit her some time for thought and preparation while I pursue additional information on the structures and demographics of Grand Lake. We are of the opinion, given that persons of superior melant'i attended your meeting, that all interested parties will act with circumspection for some time."

  Interested parties. Who knew that a robot intelligence could be so nice?

  "Indeed," she murmured into the comm; "circumspection seems called for. For the moment, be aware that I have located several other weapons, and will retire to the Stone Study, which is not on the house grid"—and how foolish she had thought that, as a girl!—"By which I mean to say that it can be locked by a manual set-key. From there, I will have access to the kitchen wing, through a serving closet."

  "Position marked and, may I say, strategically sound and defensible." A slight pause, then, "Miss Anthora asks that you activate the in-house intercom to all rooms."

  What a strange request! But there! An open intercom might allow her to discover if someone else gained entry, after all.

  "Yes, of course. I should have thought of that Thank you, Jeeves. If I discover a problem, or a solution, I will call."

  "Noted. Call ending."

  The tone change was sufficient to indicate the call was over, but again she took thought. In these odd and dangerous times, it was necessary for both parties to a call to be certain that the communication had been ended purposefully, rather than cut off by enemy action.

  The door into the Stone Study was rarely closed. In addition to its lack of an electronic lock, that might, Kareen realized now, be overridden by determined persons seeking entry from outside, it possessed sturdy door-bars evocative of the early frontier days of Solcintra that were not, in fact, merely decorative.

  Her mother had pointed this out to her in the days of her brief youth, when hope had still been high that Chi yos'Phelium's bright daughter would one day be Delm, and Chi had used the Grand Lakes house for quiet parties and meetings in Solcintra. There it was that those who might be uncomfortable being seen entering or leaving the precincts of Jelaza Kazone might still meet face-to-face, or as Chi's appetites dictated, body-to-body, with Korval.

  The urgency born of the immediate thrill of dread and death abating, Kareen moved to the door that concealed the closet-passageway to the kitchen, assuring herself that it, too, was secured with a simple mechanical lock, its scrolled key in place. She then glanced out the single tall thin window, which gave an unparalleled view of the lake and the hills beyond, making it feel as if one were in some rural retreat rather than bordering on the heart of Solcintra. On the lake today were several vessels with sails and several without. She wondered if they belonged to friend or foe.

  The view grew hazy and she realized she was weeping, that tears were welling up despite the necessity of her action, and that . . . she leaned on the wall as the tears flowed—and that . . .

  Her Nin yo'Vestra was dead. He could perhaps have given her as many years as she could have given her absent brother Daav; that difference had never mattered to them. They had first discovered each other at Festival, she near virginal beneath her plumage, his kind and mature attentions both flattering and treasured. When he recognized her some years later at another Festival they'd gone on as if never parted, their friendship continuing, perhaps not entirely according to the dictates of the Code, into their everyday lives.

  But there. Necessity. His studies and family connections took him far from the lists that the Delm of Korval and her seconds had searched; surely he, like her, never was a pilot and never would be, and so her marriage beds had by clannish necessity seen other men, all pilots, in them.

  Eyes closed a moment, Kareen found her breath more regular, her hands stiff from pushing against the unyielding stone wall. She nearly fell into the large leather chair that her mother had favored for lectures, the same chair Chi had sat in when she'd explained to the standing Kareen exactly why the Delm had chosen another husband and sought another child.

  Kareen yos'Phelium Clan Korval, smart as a whip and eager for duty . . . was inadequate to the Clan's needs.

  What pilots saw when faced with a random tumbling ball, she knew not; how they managed not to be hit in the face with it she could not comprehend—as frequent sessions with the autodoc for too frequent bruises and bloodied noses attested. While numbers blossomed to meaning for others, whispering arcane and delightful
secrets, for her they remained mere numerals.

  In other words, Kareen was deficient in ways that tutors could not assist her to overcome; her abilities insufficient in ways irreconcilable with the Delm's necessities when one was Delm of Korval.

  "I must," her mother the Delm had said, "I must be prepared to bring to the Clan my full replacement. It is not the fact of having a child that is important, but of having a child who might be Delm."

  This said to the child who found only headaches in the twistiness of numbers and joy in the complexity of Code and deed . . .

  "Understand me," Chi had continued; "it is not your attention to your studies that is at fault. It is that, as some are born unable to see as many colors as others, and others are born with no ear for music. The equations do not speak to you. The healers have said so, the tutors have said so, and the tests have said so. As we discussed the issue, Tutor admired the time you've spent at the work—she had the logs to hand—while proclaiming your energy high no matter the outcome. She also pointed out that energy alone does not pull an equation into balance. "

  Here her mother's eyes had gone soft, her voice wry.

  "Also, it comes to the attention of your Delm that you have given advice to the tutor."

  Already numb with the understanding that she had failed her Clan, Kareen had raised her eyes to the Delm's.

  "I did not 'offer advice'," she asserted, standing as tall as she might, while bearing the weight of her shame. "The tutor had said to me that an equation she offered for solving was straightforward and without complication, and that for comparison I might see solving an issue her clan was facing wherein a hasty giving of nubiath'a upon notification . . . "

  A quick hand-motion by the Delm stopped her.

  "I have seen your work, daughter. The cites were appropriate; the discussion of potential remedies useful and clear. In fact, speaking as one who had been requested to broker the difficulties between those very Clans, your solution was by far the cleanest—and one not discovered by three delms after many days of negotiation and research." A slight pause, accompanied by a one-sided smile; followed by a sigh.