The Sardonyx Net (20 page)

“You sound like you've made up your mind.”
 

“In an hour of talk? Of course I haven't. Zed-ka, what in the world is wrong?” She put her glass down and reached for his hands. Her fingers were clammy. “Oh, I know what you're thinking,” she said. “Zed, this would be a business arrangement. We wouldn't have to live together, Ferris and I. I like my life the way it is. If I should marry Ferris Dur, I stay Rhani Yago. And you are still Zed, my friend, my brother.”
 

They were both older now, and her hair had darkened over the years. But he still wanted her, and it terrified him, because he could not always dominate the responses of his traitorous nerves. She watched him, worried.
 

“What does he look like?” he asked.
 

“You really don't remember?” she said. “He's tall—broad, but not big-shouldered like you. He's bigger boned, but I'd bet he's not an ice climber. He looks sedentary, and he's so pale that he must spend most of his time indoors. He snaps his fingers to call his slaves.”
 

How ostentatious, Zed thought. “Do you like him?”
 

She shrugged. “It wouldn't matter.”
 

“It matters,” Zed said.
 

“Do I like him? No, Zed-ka, I don't think I like him.” She frowned. “Though—he's odd, Zed-ka. He's a puzzle. He's pitiful and yet he's very arrogant. It's as if he knows the meanings of the words he says but not the implications?”
 

“Don't you think these feelings are important, Rhani?”
 

“Not especially,” she said. “This is business.”
 

Zed felt as if a ghost had walked into the room. Go away, old bitch, he said to it. You're dead. “Marriage by its nature is more than a business relationship,” he said.
 

Rhani rubbed her chin. “Not if I don't wish it to be. Marriage is a legal relationship. It would be convenient if I liked him.”
 

Zed said, “If you want a child, Rhani, take a lover and let him father one. You don't need to marry Ferris Dur because he challenged your Family pride.”
 

“That's not fair, Zed-ka!”
 

“Isn't it?”
 

Rhani stood, rocking the chair, clumsy in her haste as Binkie. “You say that because you are afraid he will come between us. I tell you, the only people who can keep us from each other are ourselves. You're jealous. It's warping your judgment, Zed.”
 

“You flatter Ferris Dur. He sounds much too pretentious to be jealous of.”
 

“I said he was arrogant.”
 

“I think you are being kind to the man. He's not arrogant; he's stupid.”
 

Softly she said, “And am I stupid, too, for listening to his proposal, and for taking it seriously?” Anger lit her face, vivid as the Abanat lightning.
 

He bit his lip, preparing to apologize, when she said, “I do what is best for Chabad, Zed. You forget. Your perspective is narrower. I haven't said I'm going to marry Ferris Dur. But if I decide to do so, I expect your support. Not because you are my brother, but because you are the Net commander, and my heir, until I bear a child. Do I have it?”
 

The sun leaked through a crack between the drapes to stroke her hair, turning one lock of it to gold. He remembered her standing under the bitter pear tree at the estate, naked, her hair loose, long enough to sweep her thighs.
 

She was waiting for an answer. Despairingly, he said, “Rhani, I can't!”
 

“Very well,” she said calmly, and her voice reminded him, terribly, of Isobel, their mother. Turning, she left the alcove, and with a firm, decisive tread, went swiftly up the stairs.
 

Dana woke convulsively; he shot up in bed, reaching for the light switch, before he realized that he had been awakened by a friendly voice, a hesitant touch. He blinked at Amri while he got his breath back. Sleepily, she explained that Rhani had decided she wanted to go to Sovka, three hundred and fifty kilometers north, and had instructed Amri to wake her pilot up. Dana looked out the window. It was night. “Do I have time for breakfast?” he asked.
 

“Corrios is making it.”
 

By the time he finished a hasty meal of fish cakes and fruit, the sun was rising. Corrios came in with mail, an armload. Amri took it upstairs. Knowing that Rhani would want to skim it before she left the house, Dana dawdled in the kitchen. He cleaned the dishes and counters. Memories of the previous day crowded into his mind. He tried to shut them out. He did not know which of them was worse: Zed's anger, and his own moment of panic; or the pain when he realized that, Starcaptain or no, he could not get through the Gate to Main Landingport....
 

“Dana! Where are you?” asked the intercom.
 

“In the kitchen, Rhani-ka.”
 

“Go to the front hall. I'll be right down.”
 

She came briskly into the hallway. She was wearing a light cream-colored jumpsuit; it glinted as if it had specks of mica in the cloth. Her hair was not in its accustomed braid; she had pinned it up with an ivory comb, and she seemed thoughtful, and a little sad. He knew—Amri had told him—that she and Zed had fought.
 

She was carrying a piece of paper. “Dana,” she said, “have you ever heard the name ‘Loras U-Ellen'?”
 

Her gaze was intent and formidable. Dana turned the name over in his mind. It was not familiar.
 

“No,” he said. “I'm sorry, Rhani-ka.”
 

“He's connected with the drug trade.”
 

“No.”
 

She frowned. “All right.” She glanced at him. “Did you sleep well?” she said. “It's a long flight to Sovka.”
 

“I'm fine, Rhani-ka,” he said.
 

“Good. Then let's go.” They went to the front door. She paused to tell Corrios that she expected to be back in the late afternoon to speak with the manager of the Yago Bank, and that, if necessary, she could be reached at Sovka. Outside the shadows were long in the streets. They cut across the park to the private landingport. A light breeze lifted the dust from the walkways, bringing a touch of salt and the scent of moisture to the air, and Dana wondered if the wet western breeze meant that the Chabadese winter was coming. Rhani would know.... But she walked silently, preoccupied, a little ahead of him, and did not speak until they reached the landingport mall.
 

The manager hastened to them. “Domna Rhani! How may we serve you today?” He sounded a little apprehensive.
 

“Good morning,” Rhani said. “I should like the use of the Yago bubble.”
 

He definitely looked unhappy. “Domna, in view of your previous custom—that is to say, in prior years—”
 

“Yes?” Rhani said.
 

“It's being cleaned,” he finished.
 

“Fine,” Rhani said, with exaggerated patience. “I commend your efficiency. Is there another bubble we can use?”
 

“Oh, of course, of course.” He ushered them to a hangar. In it was an old model, two-person bubble, less roomy than the newer styles.
 

“I'm afraid this is not the most modern model we have,” the manager said. “That one is being repaired.”
 

Rhani shrugged. “This will be fine.” They crowded into it. Touching the controls, Dana smiled. The first self-powered flyer he'd ever flown had been a model like this one. Till then, his only experience with flight had been hang-gliding off Pellin's seaside cliffs. The hangar roof slid back. He took the bubble into the air over the city. Rhani sat with her legs folded beneath her in the other chair. To please her, he sent the bubble scooting over the sea. The icebergs glistened out of the blue-green water. Rhani pointed. “See the seals?” she said. Dana gazed through the glass. Gray animals crawled over the lower slopes of the icebergs, sliding from there to the water, where they became infinitely graceful and mobile.
 

“I thought there were no large animals on Chabad,” he said. He touched the computer keyboard, keying for maps of Chabad. The third projection showed him Abanat, the coast, and a route leading north-northeast to a dot labeled
Sovka
.
 

“Imports,” said Rhani. “From the Enchanter labs. They can stand temperatures that would dehydrate Terran seals in a few hours.” The bubble completed its circle. They skated above the Abanat rooftops, a checkerboard black-and-white, and headed north. “But who told you there are no animals on Chabad? That's not true. There are kerits.”
 

Dana said, “I meant, except for the kerits.”
 

Severely she said, “You can't discount the kerits; not on Chabad. Kerits are mammals, omnivorous, and without known predators. A full-grown kerit can weigh as much as thirty-five kilos. During the day they stay within burrows; at night they run. They get water from plants. They never drink, or piss. Kerit kits are born fighting; the first thing littermates do is gang up on the weakest member. They eat grass and insects and grassmice and snakes and each other. They are absolutely untamable. They run in packs led by the females, and two hundred years of breeding have not affected them at all. Put a kerit born in the breedery into the wild, and in two days you won't be able to tell it from its cousins. Oh, and they stink, too.”
 

Dana said, “Thank you very much.”
 

“You're welcome,” she said. “The kerit farm is an important source of income for Family Yago.” She stretched her arms in the air. Her extended fingers touched the ceiling of the bubble. “I wonder how many of the people who knew me are still there. Fourteen years ago—not many, I guess.”
 

“I don't understand,” said Dana.
 

“No—why should you? I worked and lived at Sovka for five years. I was not Rhani Yago; I used the name Irene Sokol. I started when I was seventeen, cleaning cages with the slaves, and by the time I was twenty-two, I was assistant manager. I would have been made manager the next month. But my mother called me home.” Again she stretched. “Look,” she said, “there's the Levos estate.” Dana looked downward. He saw a green circle surrounding a house. Someone was semaphoring with both arms. He dipped the bubble to say
Hello
.
 

Rhani clutched the arms of the chair. “Don't
do
that!”
 

“I'm sorry, Rhani-ka,” he said. As she relaxed, he added, “I can stand this thing on its head....”
 

“Well,
don't
.” But she stopped gripping the seat. “I suppose you're an expert at this.”
 

The words just came out. “I
am
a Starcaptain.”
 

Rhani did not challenge the bitter assertion. “And my brother?” she said softly.
 

Stiffly he answered, “Zed is a good pilot.” She was gazing out the slitted window, shoulders hunched, fingers bunched in her lap, lips tight. He wondered what they'd fought about. It might be safer not to know.
 

With a disconcerting, telepathic flash, she said, “You know we had a fight.”
 

“Yes, Rhani-ka.”
 

“He's good at many things.... He's a senior medic and a surgeon, and a pilot; he runs the Net superbly; he is an expert ice climber. I don't know what I would do without him.... He is not entirely sane, you know.” She said it matter-of-factly. Dana's hands jerked on the controls and the bubble craft side-slipped. He corrected quickly.
 

Rhani seemed not to have noticed. Her voice was soft, but her clasped hands whitened in her lap. “We were very happy, the summer before I went to Sovka. We weren't lovers. I was three years adult, but still virgin, and Zed was fifteen, half-boy, half-man, my playmate....” She glanced at him. “Is there an incest taboo on Pellin?”
 

“Not within a generation, no,” he said.
 

“Nor is there on Chabad, though closer than cousins may not marry. The gene pool here is small. But we were only playmates. My mother—” She paused. “My mother was a cold woman. She saw in me a reflection of herself. I think it made her furious, that I had formed an intimacy with someone—anyone—before she had me trained. When she discovered how intense our feelings had grown, she separated us. I went to Sovka. Zed left for Nexus the next year. We didn't see each other for six years. In Sovka, I was Irene Sokol. I could hardly send communigrams to Nexus to Zed Yago.”
 

The landscape below was soporific; russet hills, as far as the eye could see. Dana filled a water cup. Sipping from it, he offered it to Rhani. She took it in both hands, drank, gave it back to him.
 

“I know what Zed did then. I don't know why he did it. He made himself a eunuch; he shut off all sexual feelings, rather than share them with a stranger, with someone who wasn't me.... But you can't do that, shut off your sex as if it were water in a pipe. So he learned to find release in other ways.”
 

Dana's chest ached. He stretched, and realized he had forgotten to breathe. He took a deep breath.
 

“A telepath might be able to help him. But I don't think he wants to be changed. To be commander of the Net must be a careful sadist's dream. I use him: his skills, his needs, his devotion. Just as he uses me.”