‘No. I’m going into the other room. On the screen there, display the stored files on keywords Orin and L’Var.’
Vida sat cross-legged in her favourite armchair. The list of files, black lettering on pale green ground, snapped into existence, hanging above the three-dimensional holospace on her vidscreen. Calios appeared in his default window at the top.
‘Shall I open a file?’
‘No. I feel too panicked.’
‘Please explain term panicked.’
‘Well, look. I’m a L’Var, right? So that means I have the L’Var genotype, and my children will, too.’
‘Correct.’
‘So I want to know what my rather was like. If I have his genotype, then I’m going to be like him.’
‘Yes, this follows the general theory of genetics.’
‘All right. But he was a traitor, a criminal. Am I going to end up like he did, hanged for something?’
The revenant went still, its holo eyes moving as it searched some database.
‘Veelivar, your father supplied only half of your genetic material.’
‘That’s true, yeah, but my mother was a criminal, too. She had an unauthorized child. Me.’
‘I am considering the implications of this new data. I am arriving at my conclusion now. Even so, the possibility of your being a criminal as well is still low. Reason: you did not spend your childhood under the influence of your mother and father. The creation of a criminal mind requires environmental factors as well as geno-typical predisposition.’
‘Really? They told us the opposite in school.’
‘School data is notoriously incomplete. I have accessed three different databases of a high level. All agree.’
‘Then if I have a child, it won’t be a criminal either?’
‘The probability is equally low.’
Vida laughed aloud in sheer relief, but a sudden thought turned her quiet again.
‘But what would have made my father a traitor, then? He grew up in one of the best families.’
‘Best family is a term that connotes genetic, not environmental, factors. Furthermore, not all of my databanks agree that your father was a traitor. I have accessed a court brief filed by one Hivel Jons expressing grave doubt about the validity of certain pieces of key evidence.’
‘That’s right. Se Hivel did tell me that.’ Vida got up. ‘I’m going to finish getting dressed.’
‘This is advisable, Veelivar, since you have an appointment with the Papal Itinerant.’
‘That too, yeah. But Calios, in those displayed files onscreen? Do any contain vid of my father being hanged?’
‘Yes, Veelivar. One file is a twenty-two minute capture of the live event.’
‘Please remove that file from the display. I do not want to see it, not ever.’
‘Very well. I shall tag it permanently unavailable.’
‘But I think - well, I think maybe I’ll look at one of the other ones, that one of vidclips from his early career.’
‘Define early.’
‘Until he reached oh um what? Fifty-nine years of age.’
‘Very well, Veelivar. It will be waiting for you after you’ve performed the function, dress.’
* * *
Romero leaned back in her chair and rubbed her neck while she considered peptide chains, protocols, and genealogical abstracts. For the last several hours she’d been studying Thiralo’s analysis of the L’Var restoration and found everything in order. Even the girl’s genotype had proved dull, her L’Var-ness an unquestionable fact, her traits perfectly normal - for the L’Vars, anyway. Romero would have liked to have seen a few unusual base pairs, or at least a rare recessive. But no, Vida was a perfect candidate for marriage to Wan Peronida. Romero could think of no valid reason to prevent the contract, though she wished she could. This whole scheme stank of politics as raw as sewage. ‘Thiralo.’
Propped on her desk like a mirror stood a simple two-dee screen that operated on transmit beams, free of the Map and thus of Dukayn’s spying, or so at least she could hope. Her factor’s thin face appeared, sallow above the cowl of his Lifegiver’s robes.
‘Do you have the information I asked for?’
‘No, Sister. I haven’t been able to trace her mother at all. The court records were of course sealed - it’s a standard procedure in these cases. They don’t want the birth mother tracking her child down once she’s out of the camps.’
‘What? Surely the police wouldn’t keep the information from a papal representative.’
‘They didn’t, no. They gave me all the records they had of the arrest and trial. Lin Smid, gardener and lawn specialist, was arrested at a hospital where she was undergoing emergency treatment for haemorrhage. The placenta from her illegal pregnancy failed to separate cleanly after the birth.’
‘Poor woman! She must have been terrified. I’m glad she didn’t just stay home and die. That’s happened on Palace, you know. Where did she meet Orin L’Var, anyway? I’ve been wondering about that.’
‘Very simple, Sister. He hired her to oversee work on the lawns at his family compound. The police report says that they had a drainage problem.’
‘Ah. I see. So - the usual affair, and she decided to get pregnant. We know how that ended: she was arrested and the child given to the Raal woman. And then?’
‘Smid served three years in an education camp, as demanded by law, then disappeared.’
‘Disappeared?’
‘Just that. Since she’d served her sentence, the police had no reason to keep track of her. Her own mother had died before her arrest, and she had no siblings, no family to speak of.’
‘Well, but the police must have done a genetic scan.’
‘If they did, there’s no record of it.’
‘No record?’ Romero tapped the top of her desk, thinking hard. ‘Well, isn’t that interesting?’
‘I thought so too, Sister. And somehow the police failed to record a number of small details, such as the address of the dwell she lived in before the arrest. They recorded the drainage problem, but not her address? I rather doubt-’ Thiralo hesitated, listening to some sound that Romero couldn’t hear. ‘I think the L’Var girl’s arrived.’
‘Good. Send her in. As for the mother, keep looking. Someone’s been tampering with the records, if you ask me.’
‘Do you think it’s the cardinal?’
‘No, oddly enough, I don’t. We’ll talk later.’
‘Very good, Sister.’
‘One more thing. I’ve decided to visit the saccule training pens, but I want to arrange it so that no-one knows I’m coming.’
‘Very good, Sister. A surprise visit, then?’
‘Yes, so look into the situation there. Pick a good time and see when you can fit it into my schedule.’
‘Very good. Ah, yes, here’s Se L’Var.’
The small screen blanked, then filled with a still holo of the domed and many-spired Cathedral of the Eye on Retreat. Thiralo in the flesh opened her office door.
‘Se Vida L’Var.’
Vida walked in, hesitated, then at Romero’s beckon walked down the long room to the desk. She wore a flowing turquoise wrap-shirt over a pair of sand-coloured narrow trousers, a suitable costume, Romero noted, but then one would expect a girl from Pleasure Sect to understand dressing for effect. She’d braided her mane of red hair into controlled little ringlets and wrapped it round with a headband etched with the L’Var gene-glyph. On each cheek lay a modest stripe of turquoise face colour, a nod to the fashion of the moment but not a surrender. ‘Sit down, Vida.’
‘Thank you, Sister Romero.’ Vida took the chair set ready for her, then folded her hands in her lap and waited, her eyes wary.
‘Now, then,’ Romero said. ‘Do you know why you’re here?’
‘Well, not exactly. My factor said you needed to look at my gene scan or something.’
Briefly Romero felt annoyed. Didn’t this child realize what magnificent treatment she was getting - having a Papal Itinerant doing the work of a birth clerk for her? Then she remembered that a girl from Pleasure would have no idea of how a marriage contract was arranged.
‘I’ll explain the procedure to you,’ Romero said. ‘This is a gene counsel, yes, but it’s also a guidance session. You’re in a very unusual situation. Usually, I would have consulted with your patron about this matter, but in this case, you
are
the patron.’
‘That’s true, yeah.’
‘Fine. Do you
want
children, Vida?’
‘Well, I-’ The girl hesitated, caught by surprise. ‘I guess so.’
‘You guess?’ Romero leaned forward, hands linked on the desk before her. ‘The Lifegivers receive thousands, millions, of birth permit requests every year. We deny most of them. It’s the price we pay, out in the Pinch, for living such long lives.’
‘I understand that.’
‘Do you? I wonder.’
‘I’ll bet I understand it better than anyone else in Government House.’ Vida put a snap in her voice. ‘Why else was I stuck in Pleasure Sect whether I wanted to be there or not?
Because my mother had a baby without a permit.’
‘Vida, I’m sorry. I forgot what you’ve been through.’
‘I didn’t mean to speak out of turn, but -’
‘You didn’t, really. Now I’m going to ask you some questions. It’s part of the regular procedure. All right?’
‘All right, sure.’
‘Have you considered when you will have your children?’
‘As soon as possible. I want to restore the L’Var genotype. After all, I’m the chief patron now. I have to consider the family.’
‘That’s true, but is that really the reason? Or is it that the First Citizen demands his heirs?’
Vida blushed.
‘I thought so,’ Romero said, smiling. ‘Nevertheless, you
are
the chief patron of the L’Vars. Do you believe that a match to Wan Peronida is in the best interest of your family?’
Vida looked away, biting her lower lip.
‘Answer me.’ For a moment Romero felt as if she were back teaching chemistry to the girls at the convent school, a part of her past that she disliked remembering. ‘Is Wan a fit father for your children, Se Vida?’
The girl said nothing.
‘Is he? Come along, speak up.’
‘Sister.’ Vida’s voice had gone soft and small. ‘You’re forgetting something, aren’t you? I don’t have any choice about this.’
Romero sighed sharply.
‘No, no, I don’t suppose you do. Vida, I only want what’s best for you and your children. The Lifegivers have always blessed the births of children, even before we were trapped in the Pinch. The Eye of God sees every choice we make.’
‘I know. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, really I don’t. And I want to make the right choice. I just don’t have a lot of - well, a lot of things to choose from.’
‘I can see that. Let me tell you something about myself. I come from Arim. Do you know about that world?’
‘The mines? Where everyone lives underground?’
‘That’s it. Underground in tunnels, and the only lights you see are artificial. The one way out of there for me was the church. I was a bright child, a precocious child, even, but my parents were dirt-poor. There wouldn’t have been any university for the likes of me if the order hadn’t accepted me. Fortunately, I believe in God with all my heart and soul. I wanted nothing more than to live under the gaze of the Holy Eye. But what if I’d been a doubter, mocking God in my heart?’
‘Would you have lied?’
‘Yes,’ Romero said. ‘Lied, and quite cheerfully, too.’
For a long moment Vida considered, then smiled with a charm so spontaneous-seeming that Romero was sure she’d practised that smile for years.
‘Do we understand each other?’ Romero said.
‘Sure. I kind of think we do.’
‘Good. Now let’s consider our procedure. Normally, the counselling process can take anywhere from six months to years. Don’t look so upset.’ Romero held up one hand. ‘This can work to your advantage. It won’t be good for you to find yourself rushed into motherhood before you’re ready for it.’
‘All right. Is it hard to do or something?’
‘Yes. Not the simple physical birth, but the rest of it. It can be very hard to do right. I keep forgetting how much you don’t know, Vida. Didn’t the Protectors saddle your guardian with other Unauthorized children to raise, and you have to help?’
‘I was the youngest, the last one. She filled her quota with me.’
‘Ah. I see. Well, I’d like you to have some time to learn what having children entails, at the very least.’ Romero tapped an icon on her Mapstation, then swung the terminal around so that Vida could see the checklist. ‘We won’t need to evaluate the children’s position in the hierarchies of possible open guilds. I suspect that the Peronida will see to it that they join Military, and he’ll provide a career track, training, and observers for them. Who will be the child’s uncle? You have no brothers.’
‘Uh. I don’t know. Pero?’
‘He’s probably the best of them.’ Romero paused, struck by a sudden thought. ‘Have you had much chance to talk with little Damo?’
‘No, I haven’t. He’s kind of strange, isn’t he?’
‘Very strange. A good example of what happens when an unauthorized child ends up raised by unorthodox methods. Surely you don’t want that to happen to your children?’
Vida stared at her in utter incomprehension.
‘Well, we can discuss this later. Vida, I’ll be blunt. I’ll approve your marriage contract, but the birth permit will have to wait.’
‘Oh no! But-’
‘There isn’t any but. You’re not suited to motherhood at the moment. You just quite simply don’t have the information you need to understand the implications of your choice. By the nebulae! Do you even know what being pregnant means?’
‘Well of course!’ Vida drew herself up, suddenly haughty. ‘I passed my first level in biology.’
Romero glanced heavenward for a little help.
‘Does the first level tell you that you may have to rush to the toilet all the time? What about breast feeding? We’re all still mammals, you know, no matter how far we’ve come from the home planet.’
Again the uncomprehending stare.
‘I see the first level course left a few things out. You know, on poor planets women sometimes die in childbirth. That would never happen here, of course, but I mention it to show you that having a child isn’t as easy as buying a new dress. You have some learning to do, Vida, chief patron or not.’
‘Well, I learn really fast, Sister, really I do.’