“I’ve been working on that. Vendacious is gone. Chitiratifor and company are gone. No one on the other side knows what went on with you and me except Tycoon’s people. And Tycoon is perfectly happy to feed Nevil a story that will suit me.”
“Huh?”
“I had Amdi work out all the details the last time Mr. Radio was up here.”
Amdi shrank down a fraction. Now he had Ravna glaring at him. “It’ll be okay, Ravna,” he said.
Jefri nodded, deeply into his crazy spy plan. “Nevil won’t trust us, but we’ll be good propaganda for his cause—I-I’ll speak out in his favor. He’ll want to keep us around. And we’ve got a snoop-proof way to report. Amdi has a set of Scrupilo’s new prototype radio cloaks; he’s been practicing with them. Amdi will be Woodcarver’s ambassador to the Deniers.”
Amdi’s gaze—all his gaze—was steady. “I think it’s the best we can do, and it’s
“Oh.” She wasn’t going to be able to stop this. She sat back, remembering their endless, futile arguments. Her suggestion had turned into an incredibly dangerous long shot or—her gaze snapped up to Jef’s face as she remembered the promises he’d made about Nevil and the Disaster Study Group. “Oh, Jefri—”
Jefri shook his head. “You see why there was no point in this meeting?”
Amdi was watching them from all sides. The one between Ravna and Jefri had its snout stuck up toward them, its gaze twitching back and forth. Now it wriggled free and hopped to the ground. The ones behind Ravna were nudging her like a gentle hand, toward Jefri. One of those above gave Jef a sharp tap on the head. “Say what you never say!” demanded Amdi, his voice adult and imperative. And then suddenly, the pack was scarce.
Jef gave his head an angry shake; he looked as surprised as Ravna felt. He was silent for almost ten seconds, his eyes averted. Finally he turned back to Ravna. When he spoke, his voice was stiff: “You still think I’m eight years old, don’t you?”
“Huh?”
“An incompetent little boy with deadly, false beliefs.”
“Jefri! I—”
He gave her a jagged smile. “Well, I’m not little anymore, and my beliefs are under review, but”—The smile went away, and his gaze was direct and angry.—“I was a terrible fool, and my shitheadedness almost got you killed.”
Ravna was too shocked to speak. She gave him a vague shake of her head.
Jefri rolled right on: “I watched you for seven tendays, up close, in terrible circumstances. I’ve learned things about you I never knew, things
Jefri paused and looked away. Somehow, Ravna didn’t think that he was waiting to hear her response— which was good, because she couldn’t think of a thing to say.
His gaze turned back upon her. “But you know, I am Sjana and Arne’s son. And as Tycoon endlessly reminded us, I am Johanna’s brother. There will come a time when you think more of me.”
And then Jefri ended their discussion in a new way. His arms swept around her, drawing her into a thorough and uncompromising kiss.
Ravna remained on the rock after Jefri and Amdi departed. After all, she had come up here to consider the most important things: The next thousand years. And now, the last five minutes.
The sky gleamed too bright to see any star except the lowering sun. No matter. When Ravna was on
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Vernor Vinge is the author of the Hugo Award–winning novels
Copyright
A Novel by Vernor Vinge
Qeng Ho Series: Book 3
Copyright © 2011 by Vernor Vinge
eISBN: 978-1-4299-9336-4
