Dying of the Light

'Dirk, Dirk, you cannot be serious. No, I do not believe it. All along I have thought, well, yes, that you were better than them. And you say this to me? No, I dream. This is utter folly!' Ruark had recovered somewhat. In his long dressing gown, green silkeen embroidered with owls, he looked more like himself, although he was woefully out of place amid the clutter of the workroom. He sat on a high stool with his back to the dark rectangular screens of the computer console; his slippered feet were crossed at the ankles, and his chubby hands held a tall frosted glass of green Kimdissi wine. The bottle was behind him, sitting next to two empty glasses.

Dirk was on top of a wide plastic worktable, his legs folded under him and his elbow resting on a sensor pack. He had cleared a space for himself by shoving the pack to one side and a stack of slides and papers to the other. The room was in incredible disarray. 'I don't see what the folly is,' he said stubbornly. Even as he spoke, his eyes were wandering. He had never seen the workroom before. It was about the same size as the living room in the Kavalar compartment, but seemed much smaller. A bank of small computers lined one wall. Across from it was a huge map of Worlorn in a dozen different colors, stuck full of various pins and markers. In between were the three worktables. This was where Gwen and Ruark pieced together the bits of knowledge they hunted down in the wilds of the dying Festival world, but it looked more like a military headquarters to Dirk's eyes.

He still wasn't quite sure why they were there. After Vikary's long explanation and the acrimonious discussion that had followed between Ruark and the two Kavalars, the Kimdissi had stomped down to his own apartment, taking Dirk with him. The time had not seemed right to talk to Gwen. But no sooner had Ruark changed clothes and quieted his nerves with a slug of wine than he insisted that Dirk accompany him back upstairs to the workroom. He brought along three glasses, but Ruark himself was the only one drinking. Dirk still remembered the last time, and he had tomorrow to consider; he had to be sharp. Besides, if Kimdissi wine mixed with its Kavalar counterpart the way the Kimdissi mixed with Kavalars, it would be sheer suicide to drink one after the other.

So Ruark drank alone. 'The folly,' the Kimdissi said after one sip of the green stuff, 'is you dueling like a Kavalar. I say it, I hear myself, I cannot believe it! Jaantony, yes, Garsey by all means, and of course these Braiths. Xenophobe animals, violent folk. But you, ah! Dirk, you, a man of Avalon, this is beneath you. Think, I beg you, yes, I beg, for me, for Gwen, for you yourself. How how can you be serious? Tell me, I must know. From Avalon! You grew up with the Academy of Human Knowledge, yes, with the Avalon Institute for the Study of Non-Human Intelligence, that too. The world of Tomas Chung, the home base of the Kleronomas Survey, all that history and knowledge all about you, as much as is left anywhere except perhaps Old Earth or Newholme maybe. You are traveled, cultured, you have seen different worlds, many scattered folks. Yes! You know better. You must, no? Yes!'

Dirk frowned. 'Arkin, you don't understand. I didn't pick this fight. It's all some sort of mistake. I tried to apologize, but Bretan wouldn't listen. What else am I supposed to do?'

'Do? Why, leave, of course. Take sweet Gwen and leave; get off Worlorn as soon as you can. You owe her, Dirk, you know it, truth. She needs you, yes, no one else can help. How do you help her? By being as bad as Jaan? By killing yourself? Eh? You tell me, Dirk, you tell me.'

It was getting all confused again. When he had been drinking with Janacek and Vikary, everything had seemed so very clear, so easy to accept. But now Ruark was saying it was all wrong. 'I don't know,' Dirk replied. 'I mean, I turned down Jaan's protection. So I have to protect myself, don't I? Who else is responsible? I made the choices and all that; the duel is set. I can't very well back out now.'

'Of course you can,' Ruark said. 'Who is to stop you? What law, eh? No law on Worlorn, no, none. Utter truth! Could these beasts hunt us with a law? No, but is no law, so everyone is in trouble, but you don't have to duel unless you want to.'

The door clicked open, and Dirk turned in time to see Gwen enter. His eyes narrowed, while Ruark beamed. 'Ah, Gwen,' the Kimdissi said, 'come with me, talk sense into t'Larien. This utter fool intends to duel, truth, like he was Garsey himself.'

Gwen came forward and stood between them. She wore pants of chameleon cloth (dark gray now) and a black pullover, with a green scarf knotted in her hair. Her face was freshly scrubbed and serious. 'I told them I was coming down to run over some data,' she said, the tip of her tongue flicking nervously over her lips. 'I don't know what to say. I asked Garse about

Bretan Braith Lantry. Dirk, the chances are very good that he'll kill you out there.'

Her words chilled him. Somehow hearing it from Gwen made it different. 'I know,' he said. 'It doesn't change anything, Gwen. I mean, if I wanted to be safe, I could just be korariel of Ironjade, right?'

She nodded. 'Yes. But you rejected it. Why?'

'What did you say in the forest? And later, again? About names? I didn't want to become anyone's property, Gwen. I am not korariel.'

He watched her. Very briefly her face darkened, and her eyes nicked down to the jade-and-silver. 'I understand,' she said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

'I do not,' Ruark said in a snort. 'So be korariel. What is it? Some word only! Then you are alive, eh?'

Gwen looked at him, up on his perch on his stool. He looked faintly comic in his long gown, clutching his drink and scowling. 'No, Arkin,' she said. 'That was my mistake. I thought betheyn was only a word.'

He flushed. 'All right, so! So Dirk is no korariel, fine, he is no one's property. It does not mean he must duel, no, utter not. The Kavalar honor code is nonsense, great high stupidness in truth. So, you are bound to be stupid, Dirk? To die and be stupid?'

'No,' Dirk said. Ruark's words bothered him. He did not believe in the code of High Kavalaan. Why then? He was far from sure. To prove something, he thought, but he did not know what or to whom. 'I have to, that's all. It is the right thing to do.'

'Words!' Ruark said.

'Dirk, I don't want to see you dead,' Gwen said. 'Please. Don't put me through that.'

The pudgy Kimdissi chuckled. 'No, we will talk him out of it, us two, eh?' He sucked at his wine. 'Listen to me, Dirk, will you do that much?'

Dirk nodded sullenly.

'Good. First, answer me this, do you believe in code duello? As a social institution? As a moral thing? Tell me, in truth, do you?'

'No,' Dirk said. 'But I don't think Jaan does either, from some of the comments he's made. Still, he duels when he has to. Anything else would be cowardice.'

'No, no one thinks you are a coward, or him even. Jaantony may be Kavalar, with all the bad that is in that, but even I do not say he is coward. But there are different kinds of courage, no? If this tower caught fire, would you risk your life to save Gwen and maybe me? Garse too, perhaps?'

'I'd hope so,' Dirk said.

Ruark nodded. 'See then, you are courageous man. It is not needed, a suicide, to prove that.'

Gwen nodded. 'Remember what you said that night in Kryne Lamiya, Dirk, about life and death. You can't go off and kill yourself after that, can you?'

He frowned. 'Damn it, this isn't suicide.'

Ruark laughed. 'No? Same thing, close enough. You think you will outduel him, maybe?'

'Well, no but-'

'If he drops his sword, sweat on his fingers, or such, will you kill him?'

'No,' Dirk said. 'I-'

'That would be wrong, yes, in truth? Yes! Well, to let him kill you, that is just as wrong. Even to give him the chance. Stupid. You are no Kavalar either, so point me not at Jaantony. Misgivings or no, he is still a killer. You are better, Dirk. And he has an excuse, something he thinks he fights for maybe, to change his people. A big savior complex, Jaan, but we will not mock at him, no. But you, Dirk, you have no reason like that. Do you?'

'I guess not. But damnit, Ruark, he's doing the right thing. You didn't look so good up there when he told you how the Braiths would have hunted you down except for his protection.'

'No, and I did not feel so good either, no lie. That changes nothing. So I am korariel maybe, so the Braiths are worse than the Ironjades, so Jaan uses violence to stop worse violence,