Worlds Apart (ThreeCon)

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Worlds Apart (ThreeCon) Page 36

by Carmen Webster Buxton


  “Hello,” she said. “Did you get enough sleep?”

  “Yes,” Prax said. “Can I do anything to help?”

  “It’s all done. At least, I assume the food is taken care of. I haven’t dared to set foot in the kitchen.”

  Prax held up a hand in alarm. “That’s wise, lady. I don’t advise going into the kitchen.”

  Rishi had to go wait in the hall to greet the guests who were arriving, so Prax left to find Rurhahn and learn exactly what he was supposed to do. He was hopeful his duty assignment would allow him to witness the first non-Elliniká wedding he had ever attended.

  ONCE all the guests had been seated on the terrace, Rishi went looking for Hari. He was waiting in the sun room.

  “You look very nice,” she said, when she saw him. Anika had persuaded him to wear formal attire instead of his uniform, and Rishi wasn’t used to seeing him in such an elaborate costume.

  “So do you,” Hari answered, fingering his sash. “Doing me proud?”

  “I’m trying.” Rishi smiled up at him. “I find that I have mixed feelings today. I’m happy for you, but I feel just a little like I’m losing you, too. It’s been just you and me for so long, Hari.”

  “I know, girl,” Hari said, giving her a brief but bone-crunching embrace. “But I’m not really going anywhere, remember? Anika and I have been together for four years. Not that much is going to change.”

  “Yes, it is,” Rishi said with conviction. “You’re going to have your own family. Maybe a real daughter instead of just someone you watched grow up.”

  Hari put his arms on her shoulders. “I couldn’t love her any more than I love you, girl.”

  Rishi sighed. He really was wonderful. She was lucky to have him. “Thank you, Hari.” She hugged him tightly. “I hope you do have a daughter. You’ll make a good father. You’ve been a good father to me.”

  “I hope so. I feel pretty old to be doing this.”

  Rishi laughed and let go of him. “You’re not old!”

  Hari smiled. “We’ll see in the next few days.”

  Rishi heard a noise like someone shaking a barrel half full of gravel. She turned to see that Rurhahn had come into the sun room and was clearing his throat.

  “Is everything ready?” Rishi asked.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Rishi and Hari walked out on the terrace, with Rurhahn right behind them. The guests sat in chairs facing the house. Most of the security staff stood in two lines on either side of the terrace, waiting at attention like an honor guard. They had lined up by height, so Qualhuan and Tinibu were at the far ends of the two lines. Praxiteles stood next to Qualhuan. Ogilvy sat at the far side of the terrace with his harp. He had been playing for several minutes, but he stopped when they came out.

  Hari took his place waiting next to the monk, who wore a saffron yellow robe. At a signal from Rishi, Ogilvy struck up a slow, simple melody. Rishi took a chair next to Thulan as Anika and her mother walked out from the house. Anika’s dress was scarlet, with gold trim on the hem, and a pattern of gold threads worked through the red fabric. She looked almost serene as she moved to stand beside Hari. After the song was finished, the service began. It was very short, just a simple exchange of vows and a blessing by the monk. When it was over, Hari turned to Anika and they kissed. Rishi sighed, a confused sort of sigh, compounded of relief, happiness, and regret. For Hari and Anika it was a beginning, but for her it felt more like an ending.

  Anika and Hari stood with her mother and formed a line. The guests took turns walking past, shaking hands, and offering congratulations. Servoids and the hired staff brought food and drinks from the house on trays. Praxiteles and the other security staff took up their assigned positions in the house and on the terrace to keep an eye on things.

  Rishi let herself breathe a sigh of relief. Everything had gone well so far. She looked around for Praxiteles, but before she could find him, a familiar voice spoke from behind her.

  “Hello, Rishi. I’m sorry I was too late to see the service.”

  Rishi whirled around. The small being in front of her blinked, the gray membranes of his lower eyelids blotting out the emerald brilliance of his eyes for a few seconds. He smiled imperturbably. She looked for signs of age but saw none. His gray-green skin still looked smooth, and his ears stood up with vigor, twisting back and forth as if to catch all the sounds around him. At 167 he was still only middle-aged. He had been middle-aged for her whole life.

  Rishi gave a yelp of surprise and held out her arms. “Parnochh!”

  The Shuratanian stepped into her embrace. “Hello, Rishi.”

  “Oh, Parnochh!’ Rishi hugged him gently. She had forgotten how small he was. He was several centimeters shorter than Merschachh. “I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been?”

  “I’ve been well.” He pulled away and looked her over searchingly. “You seem in good health, also.”

  “This is wonderful!” She patted his shoulder and looked around for Hari. “Hari will be glad to see you. And you haven’t met Anika.”

  Parnochh pulled her toward a row of chairs. “Let’s sit down for a bit. Hari is busy with his guests now. I’ll talk to him later.”

  Rishi allowed herself to be led to a seat. “Is your wife with you?”

  He leaned back in his chair. “I’m currently without a mate. We had begun to quarrel rather frequently. When the laschka ended, we decided it would be best to move on.”

  Rishi hesitated, unsure of whether she should offer condolences. Most Shuratanians still followed the traditional pattern of a series of mating cycles that encompassed the thirty-three years it took to bear and raise children. Each individual usually had anywhere from three to six mates over the course of his or her life. It made for complicated family relationships, but they managed to keep them straight. In any event, Parnochh didn’t seem distressed at the change in his status, so Rishi let the news pass without comment. “How long can you stay?”

  “Three days. That is, if I’m welcome?”

  “Of course. You’re always welcome. You know that.” Rishi remembered that he didn’t know about Praxiteles. “I’m so happy you made it. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  His eyes gleamed and one ear twitched. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  It occurred to Rishi that Merschachh was a third nephew of Parnochh’s, through Parnochh’s first wife. Perhaps he did know about Praxiteles. “He’s working right now, but he’ll be free soon. Why don’t you have something to eat?”

  He lifted a hand to signal a passing servoid. “Thank you. I think I will. It’s been a while since dinner.”

  Rishi watched him take a plate from the servoid’s serving hatch and fill it with a number of delicacies from its tray. “Did you come straight from the spaceport? What time is it for you?”

  He blinked again as he waved off the servoid and took a bite of one of the small, layered sandwiches Thulan’s minions had so carefully constructed. “A little before midnight. I took a stimulant so I wouldn’t fall asleep.”

  She smiled at him. It was good to have him there. “I’m glad ship time isn’t too far off for you. And I’m glad you can stay for a while. Once Hari and Anika leave in a few hours, it’s going to be lonely for me. It’ll be great to have you in the house for at least a few days.”

  He nodded. “A honeymoon, that’s the word?”

  Rishi sighed. “Yes. They’ll be gone for two weeks.”

  Parnochh looked inscrutable. “I’ll have to be sure to speak to him before he leaves, then.”

  Rishi watched him pop another sandwich into his mouth and chew the whole thing vigorously. If he hadn’t just arrived, she would have suspected he was up to something.

  THULAN was in the kitchen when Prax came through. The wedding had been over for a day, but she still seemed keyed up. She was muttering to herself when Prax walked in. Sh
e looked up sharply when the door opened, but she relaxed when she saw it was him.

  “Oh, it’s just you,” she said.

  “Whom were you expecting?” Prax asked.

  “I wasn’t expecting anyone. Most times, you’re the only one of them foolhardy enough to come in here right before a meal.”

  Prax looked at the array of food spread out on the counters. “It’s just lunch. How many people will there be?”

  “Besides you and Mistress Trahn, there are only Anika’s mother, and the two Shuratanians.”

  “Two Shuratanians?” Prax asked. “Is Parnochh married?”

  Thulan deftly placed a haunch of roasted meat into the middle of a platter of artfully arranged vegetables. “Not now he isn’t. But, the Mistress invited Merschachh. He and Parnochh are related somehow.”

  Prax went through to the small dining room. Everyone else was there already, so it was clear he was supposed to take the empty seat next to Rishi and across from Hannah Jastrow, Anika’s mother. Rishi smiled warmly at him, but Prax felt some awkwardness to his situation. It was true that Merschachh also worked for Rishi, but then Merschachh wasn’t sharing her bed. The fact that everyone knew of the relationship made him feel that they were judging him.

  Parnochh in particular gave Prax the sense of being looked over and evaluated. He had felt it the first time when Rishi had introduced him to her old friend. And now Parnochh seemed to be studying him covertly across the table. Prax wondered if the Shuratanian were assessing his table manners or merely attempting to size him up in general.

  Parnochh’s own manners were impeccable, in spite of the fact that he managed to eat a huge quantity of food. Merschachh and Parnochh between them ate twice as much as the three Terrans. Prax couldn’t understand how such small people could eat so much, especially since they weren’t in the least fat.

  Rishi was clearly happy to have Parnochh around. She asked a lot of questions about his family, and she appeared genuinely interested in the answers.

  “I’m glad Quishanchh is doing so well,” she said, referring to Parnochh’s granddaughter.

  “Her jaruscha reports well of her,” Parnochh said.

  Rishi gave Prax an anxious glance, but he was used to not knowing what words meant so he said nothing.

  Hannah Jastrow apparently wasn’t. “I’m afraid I know little about Shuratanian culture. What is a jaruscha?”

  “It’s like a mentor,” Rishi said. “Shuratanians believe the way to improve their civilization is for each generation to guide the previous one. Once a Shuratanian decides what he or she wants to attempt as a career, his family finds someone experienced to mentor him.”

  Hannah nodded approvingly. “An excellent system. I’ve seen similar methods in Terran cultures. In fact, in ancient times, people who wanted to learn a craft would apprentice with a master of that craft.”

  Parnochh’s emerald eyes glittered. “Ah, but jaruscha feel a responsibility to those they mentor that goes beyond teaching them job skills. They worry about the young one’s choice of a mate, his parenting ability, his happiness in general. It’s a relationship that lasts a lifetime.”

  Hannah lifted her brows. “A Shuratanian lifetime is a long time.”

  Parnochh sliced his meat with great care. “All the more reason for having a jaruscha.”

  Prax had a feeling there was some additional meaning hidden in the Shuratanian’s words, but he had no idea what it was. The conversation moved on to Hannah Jastrow’s work as an anthropologist on colony worlds. Prax listened politely, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that two emerald eyes were watching him, and two long pointed ears listened intently to every word he said.

  RISHI decided not to insist that Praxiteles sit in the sun room with her after lunch. He was looking decidedly uncomfortable and she didn’t want to stress him any further. She let him go with no more that a warm smile of farewell.

  Hannah Jastrow also declined her offer of coffee in the sun room on the grounds that she had to prepare for her journey home. Merschachh effaced himself, so that left Rishi sitting across the room from Parnochh.

  The Shuratanian stroked one ear reflectively, leaned back, and patted his stomach. In the bright light from the transparent ceiling, his skin looked greener and less gray. “So, it seems that Dribachh didn’t know quite everything there was to know about this young man?”

  Rishi took a sip of coffee. She had forgotten that her business partner had ties to Parnochh. Perhaps she had been wrong to assume Merschachh was his source of information. “Things have changed since I last saw Dribachh.”

  “I can see that. Is Praxiteles going to fulfill the destiny of the House of Trahn?”

  Rishi smiled sourly as she tucked her feet under her. It was a remarkably blunt statement for any Shuratanian, but then Parnochh was more direct than most of his species. “What a delightful way to put it. If all you’re worried about is Trahn, I’m surprised you’re not trying to talk me into breaking it off. He has no money, you know.”

  Parnochh nodded sagely, blinking a few times as if he were sleepy. “I know. Fortunately, you have no need of a mate with money. You do need someone who has no overriding career concerns. You shouldn’t marry someone who will have even less time for the children than you, or someone who would expect you to pick up and move whenever his career demanded. If you were in love with a ThreeCon officer, or a top flight research scientist, I would be worried.”

  He had guessed she was in love. Well, it was obvious, after all. “But a penniless security guard from a backwater sleeper world is okay?”

  Parnochh looked benevolent as he folded his hands across his stomach. “He has no disqualifying characteristics that I can see.”

  Rishi thought about Praxiteles’ situation. Parnochh would never understand the Elliniká code. Or if he did, he wouldn’t care.

  When she didn’t answer, Parnochh leaned forward in his chair. “There’s something you’re not telling me. I sensed it with Hari, too. What is it about this young man that should concern me?”

  “I’m not going to tell you,” Rishi said. “It’s not my secret, anyway.”

  Parnochh’s ears twitched in annoyance. “I hope you haven’t forgotten the terms of the charter. You owe a duty to your house. You must marry and produce an heir.”

  Annoyance pricked her. He was seeing her only as a Trahn, not as someone who had needs of her own. “Even if I did that, what guarantee would there be that the child would have the right skills and brains to run Trahn? You weren’t even sure with me. I knew that quite well. When you hired Reiscachh to teach me how to run Trahn, she was watching me the whole time. I knew she was reporting back to you how I was doing. What would you have done if I hadn’t had what it takes?”

  Parnochh looked bland as he lifted his cup to take a sip of coffee. “I would have advised you to follow your grandfather’s example.”

  She frowned at the suggestion. “You mean marry someone who could run Trahn for me? Unlike my grandfather, I’m not prepared to sacrifice my life just to ensure the prosperity of a business.”

  “Trahn is more than just a business; it’s many people’s livelihood. Keeping Trahn prosperous is as much an obligation to the people who work for you as it is to your family.”

  Rishi considered this. The argument had a high-minded moral tone, but she suspected a selfish basis to it. She had often speculated about the reason for his devotion to the House of Trahn. Now would be a good time to ask the question she had wondered about for years. “It sounds very noble, but you’re very good at finding logical reasons for whatever it is that you want done. I’ve always wondered—just what was the nature of your relationship with my grandmother?”

  Parnochh kept his expression inscrutable. There was a reason he was so good at poker. “Your grandparents were very much in love.”

  “Not when they first married.”

 
“No,” Parnochh said. “They didn’t start out with a steaming kettle. They put cold water on the fire and let it come to a boil.”

  Rishi could play at metaphor, too. She rested her chin on one hand and smiled at him. “But was the water already warm from someone else? Grandma Delyth hired you when you were fairly young, for a Shuratanian. Only 62. Many Shuratanians refer to that decade as the age of rashness. Would you have been rash enough to fall for a woman of a different species, a woman younger than you, but doomed to die of old age when you were still in your middle century?”

  Parnochh let himself smile back. “What an improper question! I have absolutely no intention of encouraging you by answering it.”

  “You don’t have to,” Rishi said, complacent. It felt good to satisfy an old thirst for knowledge. “It explains a lot. You’ve always taken a personal interest in Trahn. If you were in love with my grandmother when you were young, you wouldn’t want to see her work and sacrifice go for nothing.”

  Parnochh leaned his head back and stared at the sky through the transparent ceiling. His eyes assumed a reminiscent look. “Delyth saved the House of Trahn from ruin. Your father brought expansion, growth, wealth on a grander scale.”

  “And my brother?” Rishi asked.

  Parnochh sighed and lowered his gaze to her face. “Peter showed a lot of promise. He seemed to have some of Ilya’s flair. He was very level-headed though, a little more cautious, which would not have been a bad thing.”

  “And then the Lycandrians came,” Rishi said quietly.

  “Yes,” Parnochh said. “And then they were all gone except you.”

  Rishi watched him. He had taught her a lot, and she owed him for it, but that didn’t mean she was above curiosity where he was concerned. “It must have been a tremendous blow to you. At the time, I thought only about myself, but I realize now that you must have been hurt to see so much of what you had worked for gone in an instant.”

  “It was hardly on the same scale as your loss,” Parnochh said.

  She shook her head. “Grandma Delyth was in her nineties and frail, but she was still alive when Prashat was hit.”

 

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