Cara smiled suddenly. 'That was well done, Tess. Getting that Chapalii cylinder to Charles, with the heart of the Tai-en Mushai's private data banks encoded into it.'
Warmth filled Tess at Cara's words. 'Praise from you is rare, indeed. I love having this modeler at my disposal. Besides this matrix, I'm running several programs off the early language data base and seeing if I can find the evolutionary links between Rhuian languages and Earth languages. But my time is so limited.'
'Which I remind you has been your choice all along. You are welcome to return to Jeds any time. Which you won't do. Be that as it may.' Cara rose and came over to stand beside Tess, resting a hand on Tess's shoulder and peering at her matrix, which rotated slowly on the screen in front of them. 'If we can only coordinate our research… I can't yet prove that the Chapalii genetically engineered the humans they transferred from Earth to Rhui, although I know they did.'
'How do you know?'
'If you study the history of disease and mortality among humans, which I've done, and then compare the Rhuian humans to Earth models, the Rhuians are too healthy and too long-lived given similar conditions.'
'The human mechanism must seem horribly inefficient to the Chapalii,' Tess mused. 'Naturally they'd tinker with it.''
'So speaks the woman who understands them so well. I can't give more than a rough estimate of how long ago it happened. Not less than 5,000, not more than 40,000 years ago. I can't prove it until I understand how they did it.'
'And once you understand how they did it-'
'Then their knowledge is my knowledge. I think I'm close to a serum that could well double the human life span.'
'Double it? Lord, what would we do with doubled life spans?'
'That's not my question. Nor my answer to give. But surely you can find some clues in your language research on the time frame involved.'
'Which would also give us insight into the history of the Chapalii Empire, insight that we're denied by the Chapalii Protocol Office. Philology wasn't my specialty, but I'll do my best.'
'When do you think that matrix will be done? Translation takes up far too much time for me. There's a lot more basic information I can give the jaran healers on fundamental medical principles, and I'd like to communicate straight to them.'
Tess played with the screen, dividing it into three discrete parts and spinning one until a series of pathways arcing away toward an unseen horizon filled one side of the field. 'A full-blown matrix would take months to construct, under better conditions than these. What I'm doing is a series of trees. They each contain a finite set, and instead of gaining the language pretty much entire, you simply accelerate the learning curve of what would otherwise be unenhanced acquisition. So you seem to be learning it quickly, and efficiently, but not too damn quickly.'
'So they won't become suspicious when we all turn around one day speaking fluent khush? Very neat.'
'Cara.' Tess glanced up at the older woman. 'Why can't Charles see that I'm not the right person to be his heir?'
Cara patted her on the shoulder and walked back to her console. 'Charles thinks strategically, Tess, not tactically. Other than that, I can't tell you what's in his mind.' From outside, a bell rang once, then twice. 'Ah. We have a visitor. Close off the back half, Tess. I'll go see who it is.'
Tess spoke two words and the field over the table vanished, leaving only the smooth black surface. Then she drew closed the curtain that screened off the back section of Cara's tent-and the equipment laid out there-and tied it shut. A moment later, the entrance flap to the tent was twitched aside-it, too, tinkled, sewn all along its edge with warning bells-and Cara ducked back inside followed by-
'Ilya!' Tess grinned stupidly and threw her arms around him and kissed him soundly on the lips. 'I thought you were days ahead of us.'
He glanced at Cara, who watched them with a smile, and disengaged himself from his wife. He frowned. 'Has Vasil been bothering you?' he demanded.
Tess blinked. The question surprised her, as did his obvious anger. But she had to think back to recall how much she had seen Vasil over the past days. 'I saw him tonight,' she began. His expression clouded. She went on hastily. 'But only because we went over to the Veselov camp to see Arina and Kirill, and the baby.''
'Ah.' A pained expression chased the anger off his face. 'They have two children already. And Vladi and Elena have a child.'
'Ilya.' Tess glanced at Cara and then back at her husband. She took his hand between hers and held it tightly. 'I feel sure that we will have a child soon, too. Kirill and Arina's new baby isn't strong. It was born early. They may well lose it.'
Then he looked ashamed, as if by being jealous of their fortune in having two children where he had none, he had brought misfortune on them. 'I hadn't heard. I'll go visit them tonight before I leave.'
'You're riding south again tonight?' She lifted one hand to brush a smear of dirt from his face. He had a rather travel-worn look about him, as if he had not rested much during the seven days since she had seen him last. His hair was mussed, and the usually trim line of his beard had grown a little ragged. 'Why did you come back?'
'I need more interpreters. I need you.'
'I'm not part of the army, Bakhtiian,' she said stiffly. 'Or had you forgotten that?'
His gaze flicked to Cara and then back to Tess. 'Excuse me,' he said to Cara. In khush he said, 'I do not intend to argue with you in front of another person, Tess. I won't let you ride with Yaroslav Sakhalin's jahar. Not so far away from me.'
'And?' she demanded, not feeling much like compromising.
'If you'll excuse me.' Cara slipped out of the tent. The bells chimed behind her and then stilled.
'Something your brother said to me-about envoys. Why not have a-a jahar of envoys? Diplomats, that's the Rhuian word. Anatoly Sakhalin has married a khaja wife, so I'll put him in command of half the jahar, of those who are primarily fighters, young men who will also learn how to communicate and deal with the khaja. Eventually, we will need governors from their ranks. We'll have to be careful to make sure they marry well, marry a woman who can also learn about khaja ways and who will be willing to live among khaja for some time. That's where you and Josef come in.'
'Josef and I? Josef Raevsky?'
'Yes. You know he'll never fight again. How can he, blinded? But with his knowledge-and yours-you two will be my other commanders of this jahar.'
'Me?' Tess sank down into the chair that conveniently caught her knees when they sagged beneath her. 'Did Charles put you up to this?'
'I would be a fool not to use your skills.'
'And keep me out of battle.' But somehow, knowing that she was pregnant made her less anxious to prove herself in war. Not to lose her fighting skills, not at all, but the sense of urgency that she had felt before about putting them to the test was eased. And she did have other skills… 'I don't know,' she said reluctantly. 'I might be good at that.'
'You already are, in camp. Now you will be my right hand as well as my heart.'
'I don't know,' she repeated, but vaguely, already thinking about what she and Josef could do, building a kind of diplomatic corps for the jaran, to create-what? To create an empire. She did not doubt for a moment that Ilya could-that he would-forge one, the empire of the jaran. She could be instrumental in seeing not only that it would last and remain stable, but that it would hold to the rule of just law, a better rule, perhaps, than that many of the khaja lands bowed to now. Perhaps. Damn Charles, anyway. Certainly she could see his hand in this. He was grooming her to succeed him, by any means he could.
Ilya smiled brilliantly. 'Then you will.'
Tess had to laugh, because Ilya was so transparently pleased that his little scheme had worked: he could give her a place in his army and give her authority of her own without putting her in the line of fire. She lifted a finger. 'But. I want Aleksi.'
'Aleksi! Give up one of my finest fighters-?'
'He's lost in your jahar, Ilya, and he's unlikely to get a command of his own, even if he wanted one. But if he's mine, and he chooses a select group of young riders to be my escort, then I'll have the protection an envoy
