“Sisters,” she said between harsh, panting breaths, “I believe we need to confer with ourselves alone.”
“I believe you are correct,” said Aires levelly.
Their royal retinue, wed trained in their jobs, gathered up their papers and pens and retreated, but the representatives of the Council just stirred uneasily.
One, Feia Ros t'Theria, lifted both hands and closed her eyes. “If my Majestic Sisters will consider debating with the Council for a while. This is—”
“This is what?” demanded Ueani. “This is how we came to be holed up in our home with our people beating on the gates?” Vaier glanced at Aires, who made a small gesture.
Let her go. She needs to shout.
“Or maybe,” Ueani roared, “this is how we came to be so isolated from our people that we didn't even know what danger we were in? Is that what you mean, Wise Sister? Is this what you and our other Wise Sisters in Council failed to warn us about?”
“Majestic Sister.” Feia Ros's voice shook. “I—”
“You what!” Ueani was almost on top of her. Vaier tapped her foot lightly to get the Ancestors’ attention.
Please don't let my sister lay hands on a Councilor. We do not need to give such news to our enemies.
“You what? You apologize? Or maybe you agree with our enemies out there, and you wish to tell us so!” Ueani's hands came up. Vaier's skin tightened, but her sister only closed her fists on the air. “Get out of our hearing! All of you!”
The Wise Sisters were not fools and left in a crowd, with fluttering robes and cringing ears. Silence filled the audience chamber, broken only by the sound of Ueani's ragged panting.
“Are you calmed down yet, Ueani?” asked Aires mildly.
Ueani's ears eased themselves away from her scalp. “Nearly.”
“Good.” Aires touched Ueani's forearm, then turned away to sit on the nearest sofa. If she felt even half as tired as Vaier did, she didn't show it. She sat straight and calm, as always. “So, say what you need to.”
Ueani crossed the floor to her and stroked Aires's ear absently for a moment before she turned away. “I want to know how much we're ready to give away to the Getesaph.”
Vaier's ears dropped involuntarily. “We will do no more than we said.”
“What we said was a lot. We are talking about naming spies to them, ours, our enemies’, it doesn't matter. Do you believe”—the skin on her face rippled—“the Getesaph will really give them back once we say they are spies? Do you think they'll survive to come home?
“And what do we do about our subjects outside?” Ueani gestured toward the outer wall. “When word gets out about what we've agreed, they'll go insane. Do we force the militia to put down their sisters until they turn on us? We are trapped.”
“Not yet.” Aires's ears stood straight up. “We can begin a muster of troops. We can announce our plans to put down this treachery of the Getesaph's. But we will go too slowly. We will give the Humans time to find out what is really going on. It might be as Rchilthen Byvant says: The Getesaph Parliament housed a conspiracy. They'd eat the children crawling from their sisters’ wombs, why would they hesitate to conspire against their government?” She waved her hand dismissively. “But the Humans’ words will be heard where the Getesaph's won't, both inside the Confederation and outside these walls.”
Vaier rubbed her hands together and sat beside Aires, drinking in warmth and strength from her proximity. “That might work. But who will lead the muster? At this moment I'm not sure who in the army we can trust.”
Aires's ears dipped and straightened. “We need to send for Praeis Shin.”
Vaier felt her muscles tighten. “Perhaps not for this.”
“Who else?” asked Ueani, stalking close to them. “It is her family who has done this to us. It is her honor to rebuild.”
Vaier sighed. She took Aires's hand in her right hand and Ueani's in her left, so they'd feel the strength of the question. “Have you considered, my Sisters, there may come a time when we ask too much of her insanity of separateness?”
Ueani's skin squirmed under her palm, but Aires's did not.
“I have,” said Aires. “If you can name someone else who might possibly be willing to put together a force too slowly to do any good, and yet not get caught orchestrating the delay, we will send for her instead.”
Vaier closed her eyes. “There is no one. We will send for Praeis Shin.”
And one day, her Ancestors will send for us and demand an explanation for what we have done to their daughter.
Ueani pulled out of Vaier's grasp and stalked over to the clerical door. She flung the arched portal open and bellowed, “Osh! Elpetar!”
The two assistants scuttled inside, stationed themselves with their backs to the door, closed their eyes, and raised their hands.
“We need Praeis Shin found and brought to us at once,” said Ueani.
The wrinkles in Osh's heavy forehead deepened. “Majestic Sister, Praeis Shin is in the debating chamber. She is petitioning to meet with you.”
“Now, that really is magnificently convenient,” said Aires mildly. “Tell her we grant the petition.”
The assistants hurried out the main doors. Ueani paced the Audience Room twice before Praeis Shin entered, followed closely by her remaining daughter. Vaier found time to pity the daughter. She was just about ready to cross to motherhood and here she was, alone with her insane mother, surrounded by disloyal aunts and her-Ancestors-only-knew what kind of cousins. If she were not allowed daughters of her own soon, she might end up as solitary and unstable as her mother.
Praeis and her daughter walked into the small circle of desks, chairs, and sofas. She stood in front of the sofa where Vaier and Aires sat, raised her hands, and closed her eyes.
“Thank you, Majestic Sisters, for granting my petition.”
“Open your eyes, Praeis Shin. Sit yourself and your daughter down.” When Praeis opened her eyes, Vaier gestured her to a divan. “In truth, we did not know you were waiting for us. For this, we apologize. You have done difficult and dangerous service for us and of all our citizens and servants. You should not be neglected.”
Praeis looked at her blankly, as if trying to decide what expression she should paste on her face for this official flattery. Aires opened her mouth, but Vaier touched her arm to silence her.
“The words of Queens are lighter than feathers and more easily torn apart, I know,” Vaier went on. “But I hope you choose to believe what we are saying right now.”
“My Ancestors see I have nothing but trust in my Majestic Sister,” said Praeis piously. “But I am wondering what is to follow.”
Laughter exploded out of Ueani. She flung her head back and let the sound echo off the ceiling. “Very good, Praeis Shin. You may be insane, but you are not stupid.”
Vaier felt her ears fall back against her skull. She straightened them hurriedly. After this interview, they were going to have to talk to Ueani about self-control under stress.
The daughter bared her teeth, probably reflexively. Praeis's face went tight, and she covered her daughter's mouth with one hand.
Vaier mustered a dismissive tone. “We have all been through too many days without peace here.” She avoided looking at either Ueani or Aires. She could feel Aires's skepticism like a breath of cold air against her skin. “And I'm afraid we must go through more. You know better than anyone else that there is an explosion waiting to happen in the peninsula.”
Praeis's ears drooped briefly. She let go of her daughter's mouth and took her hand instead.
Vaier watched Praeis carefully, trying to interpret the ridges in her skin and the set of her ears. “For stability, and to buy time for the Human investigation, we must appear to have joined the dissenters against the Confederation.” Praeis sat absolutely still, a grey-blue statue holding her daughter's hand. “We must play at assembling an invasion of the Getesaph archipelago, and we must ask you to assume the lead of this deception.”
A look somewhere between surprise and horror crossed Praeis's face before she could compose herself.
“Your expertise at logistics, along with the fact that it is your daughter and sister who are endangered make you the logical choice. We ourselves know your loyalty to us better than anyone out there.” She jerked her chin contemptuously toward the outer wall.
The folds in Praeis's face tightened. “Then there will be no real rescue? No search?” As Praeis spoke, her daughter's mouth opened as she began to pant.
“Of course there will,” said Vaier with a touch of indignation. “But surely you see that the Humans can do a better, faster job of it than any of us. You must give them time to do it.” She let her face stiffen. “If we lose control, there will be an invasion in earnest, and what will the Humans do then? What will the rest of the Confederation do?”
Praeis sat still again with just the tips of her ears quivering. Her daughter looked up at her with wide, miserable eyes.
“I understand,” said Praeis. “But, Majestic Sisters, after Urisk Island, who will willingly follow me?”
Aires's ears wiggled. “Noblest Sister, the mood against the Getesaph is so heated, our sisters would follow a thrown stone into battle.”
Praeis's ears crumbled, but her voice remained steady. “I will do as I am ordered, Majestic Sisters.”
“Good,” Vaier dipped her ears toward Praeis approvingly. “You will be officially summoned to duty this afternoon and moved to a headquarters. You will need to give thought to who you will want to pick as your Group Mothers.”
“Then I have much to do. With your permission.” Praeis lifted the palm of one hand, and Vaier dipped her ears again.
Praeis stood, still holding her daughter's hand. The daughter, obviously dazed by what had been said, stood with her.
“Whatever else comes of this, we will arrange that all your second-children be proudly fathered,” said Vaier. “Your daughters shall have that written in our names.”
“Thank you, Majestic Sister,” murmured Praeis. She closed her eyes and raised her free hand respectfully before she turned and walked in a measured step through the door.
“She'll do it,” said Aires like a sigh of relief once the door was firmly closed.
“Of course she will,” snorted Ueani. “Was she not just bribed and flattered like a father's family? What moved your will, Vaier?”
Vaier stood up and walked four swift paces to her lesser-named sister. She grasped Ueani's chin hard, as if she were a misbehaving child.
“At the moment this solitary nature serves us, but without a little kindness she might just turn against us.” She watched the ripples in Ueani's face as that thought sank in. “Unstable, abandoned by her family and by her Queens, who will she turn to? What will she do? Do you want to find out?”
“No, Sister,” muttered Ueani.
Vaier released her. “We are agreed in this, then.”
“Yes.” Aires stood up. “Now, let us cad our Wise Sisters back in. They will, I think, be pleased to hear what we have to say.”
David looked around the hospital room with a sense of relief and homecoming. It could not have been more different from the hell he'd left that morning. This was a large open area that smelled of fresh air. The openness was disconcerting for him, but more comfortable for the Dedelphi who had to stay there. At least a hundred beds waited in tidy rows. Each was enclosed in filter polymers that would let in light and air and let out sound and scent, but would trap any microbes in their carefully kinked and twisted pores.
The waldos and jobbers attached to each bed to take care of the patient's needs had soft, warm hands and arms. They were covered with matte organics that could be easily sterilized to ready the bed for a new occupant. There were even thin gloves built into the sides of the isolation boxes, so a sister or daughter could reach in and hold the patient's hand.
He set his portable down on one of the counters.
We might actually be able to save a few people here,
he thought.
He didn't actually come on duty until the main evacu… relocation started. Everybody else was, sensibly, relaxing in their new apartments. He had invitations for drinks and dinner he was really looking forward to. But first he had wanted to see the hospital. He wanted some reassurance that the cycle of anger and depression at the facilities he had to work with would be broken.
“Dr. David Zelotes?” called a voice from the other end of the room.
David turned and saw Captain Elisabeth Esmaraude standing in the hatchway. He recognized her easily from the landing ceremony when she'd stood up in front of them in the city and welcomed them all to the
Ur.
She'd sounded like a wind-up doll, and she seemed to know it, but she also seemed to be trying to bear it in good humor.
“Yes, Captain?” David walked toward her.
She looked him up and down through her old-fashioned spectacles. David wondered what she thought she'd see. “Have you got a minute?”
“Yes, certainly, Captain,” said David. “I was just looking around.”
What's so important you had to come down here personally?
“Good. If you'll just come with me.” She stepped out into the corridor and led him to an unused conference room. His mind ran over possibilities. Maybe she wanted to discuss emergency procedures, or quarantine precautions, or the possibility of transmission from the sick to the healthy populations of the city-ship. Maybe it was about the possibility of viral infection among the Human crew.
Captain Esmaraude sat in one of the stiff chairs around the table and gestured for him to take the one next to her. He did.
“What can I help you with, Captain?” David folded his hands and tried to look ready for anything.
Captain Esmaraude looked at the floor. “I have just had a message from Commander Enrique Keale of Corporate Security.” She glanced up, and back down again. “Dr. Lynn Nussbaumer is missing.”
“I'm sorry?” said David. He'd heard her say something about Lynn, but…
She looked up. Her brown eyes were worried behind her spectacles. “Dr. Lynn Nussbaumer is missing. No one on her staff has seen or heard from her for over twenty-six hours.”
David sat there, doing nothing but listen to his heart hammer against his ribs. Lynn missing in the Hundred Isles. He had spoken to her two days ago, and then she'd gone missing and he hadn't known…