The Best of All Possible Worlds (8 page)

He nodded, stood up, and stepped aside, leaving the way clear for me to enter. I stared
at him then went in slowly, not knowing what to expect.

Dllenahkh lay on his side in the narrow government-issue cot, not quite fetal but
certainly curled into himself, the blanket pulled up to just below a bare shoulder.
There were signs that he was awake. The firm grip of his left hand on his right wrist,
the tension around his eyes as his eyelids pressed tightly closed, and his shallow,
uneven breathing all spoke of distress.

I knelt by his head, too astonished to feel awkward. “Dllenahkh? Will you get up?”

Feeble, I know, but amazingly it got a response. “I am tired,” he said slowly. “Leave
me alone.”

“For some reason, I don’t think I should,” I replied. To my own incredulous ears,
my voice sounded as ordinary as if discussing an inspection checklist. “I think you
should get up and come for a walk with me.”

He remained still for a while, but his eyes opened, though they kept looking carefully
past me. I glanced around for something to help restart the conversation and saw an
undershirt and tunic neatly folded nearby. Trust a Sadiri to have a breakdown but
still not neglect the small domestic rituals.

“Here’s your shirt,” I said inanely. “Let’s put it on, shall we?”

Still looking away, he heaved a great sigh and sat up slowly. He allowed me to maneuver
the undershirt over his head, then heavily moved his arms to finish putting it on.
His hair was mussed, and I resisted the urge to pat it back into place.

“What’s happened to you?” I whispered.

“Overextended myself,” he mumbled. “So much anger back there. So tiring to keep it
out.”

I knew there was more to it than that, but I said nothing, only handed him the tunic
and looked around for his boots.

“There,” I said at last with a weak attempt at cheerfulness. “You’re all ready. Let’s
go.”

Joral joined us as we came outside, discreetly ignoring his superior’s rumpled appearance—or
so I thought. Then I realized he was distracted by Lian. Already dressed, the Commissioner’s
aide was trotting past with biosensor in hand.

“Something’s tripped a perimeter alarm,” Lian explained. “Fergus is on it, but he
wanted a sensor reading to be sure.”

I was glad for the diversion. We could pretend we were still functional when lurching
from crisis to crisis; it was the time for quiet and introspection that was dangerous.
We jogged along behind, following Lian up a low hill to where Fergus was already in
place, half kneeling with his pistol held point down but ready. He gestured for us
to approach cautiously.

I didn’t see it at first against the blond color of the grass, but then it moved—a
short-haired animal rather like a wild dog in size and shape. The creature snuffled
around briefly, tossed its head in the air as if sneezing from the dust, and then
turned away to lope down the other side of the hill.

Joral was the first to unfreeze. Mute, expressionless, he simply turned around and
quickly went back the way we had come. I watched him go, frowning in puzzlement.

“Wild dog?” Lian asked in hushed tones.

“Savanna dog. I’ve never seen one before, but I hear they show up sometimes in this
region,” Fergus said. “They shouldn’t be any trouble as long as we don’t bother their
pups.”

The two Science Council officers came rushing up the hill with Joral, biosensors at
the ready. We followed them as they swept ahead for readings, followed them right
to the sloping crest of the hill, and crouched there, obedient to their silent, frantic
hand signals. I peeked through the coarse grass that fringed the crumbling edge and
saw them: a small pack of dogs comfortably
at home in the den they had made, sheltered and safe in the cleft of a small valley.

“No,” said Dllenahkh.

His voice sounded so strange that I looked at him sharply, immediately afraid that
he was slipping into that frozen depression again. He felt my concerned gaze and turned
to me.

“No,” he repeated with the most brilliant and beautiful smile that I never expected
to see on a Sadiri. “Not a savanna dog. Sadiri. Look.”

He gazed down intently into the valley, and one by one, first adults and then pups,
they went from a panting, relaxed demeanor to closed-jawed alertness. Their noses
pointed inquiringly at the air—
Who? Who?
Then they looked at Dllenahkh, looked straight at him through all the brush and grass.
Their jaws relaxed once more as if grinning in welcome, and their short whiplike tails
thumped the ground and whisked the grass in slow, cautious approval.

“Sadiri dogs, so far from home,” murmured Dllenahkh. “The taSadiri must have brought
them. So few remain now. The Science Council keeps them under protection.”

Nasiha and Tarik did not once take their eyes off the scene below them, nor did they
set down their biosensors, but their free hands met and clasped together with a quiet
passion that was like a promise. Joral’s face was more conflicted: subtle shades of
anger and grief mingled with awe and gratitude. Dllenahkh … the first brilliance had
faded, tempered with sorrowful acceptance, but still he smiled.

I don’t know how long the team stayed on the hill—the Cygnians watching the Sadiri,
the Sadiri watching the dogs. I left them there and went for a short walk and a cry
before going back to camp. I wanted to be the first to tell Dr. Daniyel all about
it when she woke up.

HAPPY FAMILIES

“
S
o,” I said
to Qeturah, “I have this friend …”

She gave me a smile. It was the classic opening line for any counseling session. “Go
on,” she prompted.

“Well, they’ve got some fairly strict ethics about stuff like … telepathy and emotional
control and such. They feel pretty strongly about it. Thing is, they’ve had to deal
with a situation where someone was operating without those ethics.”

“I see,” she said. “Did they feel vulnerable in this situation?”

“Maybe they did. Maybe they felt they were strong enough to handle any direct attack.
But I think what’s worse is that they felt responsible for others who might be hurt
by this person.”

“The person without the ethical standards,” she queried.

“Yes. Because no one else seemed to think that there was anything wrong with how that
person was behaving. Maybe they couldn’t see it, or maybe they thought it was normal.
I don’t know. I think I’m kind of afraid to ask.”

“What do you want for your friend?” she asked quietly.

“I want them to feel … like they don’t always have to be responsible for other people.
Like it’s okay to not be the strong one all the time. Maybe even okay to ask for help.”

She was silent for a while. “Well,” she said carefully, “you can let your friend know
that if they ever want to ask for help, I’m here to listen, I won’t judge, and I have
ways of getting things done without breaching confidentiality.”

I swallowed, feeling a thickness in my throat. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you. I hope I can
get my friend to come talk to you directly.”

Some people might think it’s kind of strange having your boss also be your doctor
and psychiatrist, but we were a small team and Qeturah was a very good small-team
leader. She took an interest in everyone, and she knew instinctively which voice to
use and which hat to wear in which context. There were a lot of hats to juggle over
the next few days. Central Government wanted the Sadiri and the Commissioner to come
in for an inquiry about the situation in Candirú, which remained volatile. The day
after the flight from Candirú, we were off to Ophir, the nearest town with full facilities
for teleconferencing.

Dllenahkh gave his brief testimony first. There was a Sadiri savant among the investigators,
and though he spoke little, he looked at Dllenahkh as if cataloging any and every
sign of unusual behavior. Superficially, Dllenahkh seemed fine to me apart from an
air of constant preoccupation, yet I was aware that unexpectedly discovering a much-loved
breed of hometown fauna isn’t really what you might call a complete cure. That Sadiri
savant must have seen something I missed, because during the tea break, Qeturah was
kept in for a brief private consultation that then turned into orders for me.

“Delarua, you know the Montserrat region pretty well?” she said as soon as she emerged
from the meeting room.

“I’ve got some family there; why?” I asked. Instinct honed by years of experience
in the Civil Service made me drain my teacup and reach for an extra slice of cake
to add to my napkin. It was
good cake, and I didn’t want a little thing like duty getting in the way of enjoying
it.

“I want you to go with Councillor Dllenahkh to the Benedictine monastery at Montserrat.
They’ve got a Sadiri priest and some monks housed there, and they’ll help him realign
his nodes or reverse his polarity or whatever it is he needs done to him. Fergus will
fly you in today and pick you up Sunday afternoon.”

Serendipity and guilt knocked jointly on my conscience. “Um … it’s a silent monastery.
Do you need me to stay there with him or just take him there?”

Qeturah frowned slightly. “I thought he was your friend. I want to have someone nearby
to check on him, and you’re a familiar face. We can’t spare Joral; he’s got all the
reports of their meetings.”

I felt even guiltier. “No, I didn’t mean … What I meant was, d’ you mind if I take
a couple of days to visit my sister? I’ll make sure Dllenahkh can reach me at any
time, and I’ll get her to drive me back to the monastery the day before Fergus returns
for us.”

I bit my tongue. I hoped she wouldn’t think I was just taking advantage, though in
a way I was, but it was for a good cause, an appropriate cause, even.

Her face cleared. “Of course. All my family’s in Tlaxce, and I keep forgetting what
it’s like when your kin are farther afield. Take a couple of days. Just don’t miss
that shuttle.”

“No, ma’am,” I said in relief.

She glanced down at my stash of cake with a smile. “And yes, I do want you to leave
immediately.”

The half-hour trip was fairly quiet. I spent the first ten minutes of it psyching
myself up, then excused myself to go to a monitor at the back of the shuttle and call
my sister. Just to be sure, I called her personal communicator first, not her house
comm. She answered in seconds, audio only.

“Identify,” she said, her tone offhand and slightly rushed.

Of course. I was calling from a general government comm, so my ID wouldn’t show up.
“Maria, it’s Grace. How are you? How’re the children?”

There was a slight, shocked pause, and the video flipped on. She hadn’t changed too
much. A little fuller around the face, maybe, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.
“Grace? How are you!
Where
are you! My goodness, it’s not a birthday or a special occasion—what’s happening?”

I smiled. At least she seemed happy to see me. “Work’s happening. I’ll be in Montserrat
for a few days. Think I could pop by for a quick visit?”

“Yes!” Her response was breathless and wholeheartedly sincere. “The children will
be so happy to see you, especially Rafi, and Ioan is always complaining that you never
come by.”

My heart lightened. It was going to be just fine. “Well, then, don’t tell them; let
me surprise them! Is it all right if I land in the backyard in … oh … about three
hours’ time?”

She began to giggle. “Sure! Oh, this is amazing! I can’t believe it. Oh!”

There was a voice in the background. She turned suddenly, one hand reaching out to
swiftly kill the vid. “Nothing, dear! Coming in a moment!” She whispered hastily,
audio-only. “Must go! See you soon! Bye!” Then the link died.

I sighed, smiling slightly. Blood is blood, you know? There’s too much shared history
and too many cross-connecting bonds to ever totally extract yourself from that half-smothering,
half-supporting, muddled net called family.

Speaking of which …

“Dllenahkh,” I said, coming back to my seat at the front of the shuttle. “I’m going
to abandon you for a couple of days, but
you have my comm ID and you can call me any time. You know that, right?”

He gave me a vaguely bemused look. “I have the comm IDs of all the members of the
mission team. However, given that I am going to a monastery, the chances of anything
happening over the next two days that I should need to report are—”

“I know, I know,” I interrupted with a grin. “However vanishingly small a chance it
might be, you can call me, okay?”

He paused and seemed to recollect something, then graciously said, “Thank you. And
you may call me as well, should you wish to do so.”

I was warmed by his awkward little dip into small talk for the sake of courtesy.

When we landed, a part of me almost expected the Sadiri priest to come flying out,
grab Dllenahkh by the head, look deeply into his eyes, and exclaim, “My God, get this
man to a meditation chamber, stat! Can’t you see his rudimentary telepathic integument
is about to disintegrate?”