“Ah, I thought so. Well, your so-respectable source was not entirely accurate, as respectable sources often are not. A few of the Graykey were killed, it is true; but most simply left the civilized net. Just as we turned against the Graykey, blaming them for the terrors, they turned against us with the same accusation. For each Graykey, you see, considers him or herself a mere weapon in the hands of their contract-holder; and they blamed the contract-holders for their lack of discipline. They therefore retired to their own society. Their own planet, chosen by them, where they could practice their arcane philosophy in peace.”
“I hadn’t heard that.”
“It was a secret.” She smiled. “Even I do not know the location, though I’ve set foot on its surface. Several years ago I had occasion to do the Graykey a great service— there was an item they were in need of, which I was able to provide. And they paid me in the traditional way—in contract-time.” She motioned with her hand. “Allow me to introduce my Graykey to you, cyr. Keylinn, may I present this nameless gentleman with many banknotes.”
The red-haired woman inclined her head. “How do you do,” she said. They were the first words she’d spoken.
Tal said, “I don’t believe it.”
But he thought that perhaps he did.
Cyr Vesant leaned over, resting her chin on two fists, elbows on the table. “I will honor you with my confidence,” she announced, like a teacher declaring a picnic outing.
This was mildly alarming. Tal said, “You’ve really shared enough with me—”
“I have enjoyed a successful career,” she said. “I wish to retire while I’m still ahead of the game; I wish to go home. I wish to begin a garden, with many different colors of roses. I would like to think there will be no use for a Graykey in my quiet future.” She tapped the edge of Tal’s pack. “Would you be interested in buying one?”
Tal said, “Slavery is illegal in the Republic and Empire both.”
“A lot of things are illegal, as I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, cyr. Besides, don’t think of it as slavery (unless the thought appeals to you). Think of it as a service contract; that’s how they think of it. You’d only get her for a year, I should say, unless you renew when it expires. My arrangement was for seven years, and she’s served six.”
Tal watched the woman called Keylinn. She appeared uninterested in the conversation, as though she were here to be polite. After a moment he said, “No. Thank you very much. But I’d rather stick with our original arrangement—money for information.”
Cyr Vesant pulled out an exotic-looking cigarette and lit it. She took a deep drag and said, “Alas. I’ve decided I wish to make arrangements for the care of this Graykey before I go. It’s like having a pet, you know: a responsibility. We’ve grown close. She’s part of the deal, cyr. I don’t increase the price, but you take Keylinn with you when you go. She’s a gift.”
The room began filling with blue cigarette smoke, just the kind that ship administrators hated and forbade passengers to bring on board. Somewhere in the distance Tal heard air-scrubbers switch on. He considered the offer.
There would be advantages in having another spy on the Diamond, especially one with technical skills. Spider’s abilities didn’t seem to extend much beyond electronic forgery. And this business about contracts was interesting, though it wouldn’t do to put too much stock in it, humans being unreliable by nature. Cyr Vesant obviously had her own reasons for passing this “gift” on, but he might never know what they were. And beyond anything else, he needed the information she had.
Cyr Vesant put in, “Your personal gladiator, you might say. A Samurai. A true and gentle knight. A perfect slave.”
The woman Keylinn spoke in a neutral tone. “Cyr Vesant, it’s my duty to warn you when you’re approaching a gray area.”
A flicker of irritation, and something else, passed over Cyr Vesant’s face. She turned again to Tal. “It’s possible that some of my terms may be misleading.” The eyes flicked to Keylinn and back again. “In any case, you’ll find an obedient and helpful companion, paid for in advance. It’s expected that you feed and house her, but if it’s not in your power, then even that is unnecessary— she’ll use her skills to feed and house you both, and still provide excellent service.”
“Graykey really make a practice of this? It’s hard to believe they could get paid enough. What do they get out of it?”
“Now that is something I’ve never understood, though I’ve read as much Graykey philosophy as I could stomach—”
He turned to Keylinn. “What do you get out of it?”
“That’s not a question I have to answer,” she replied in the same neutral tone as before.
“I thought you had to answer all questions.”
“You were wrong.”
Cyr Vesant broke in hastily. “I’ll handle the questions, Keylinn.”
“Not yet,” said Tal. He said, to Keylinn, “Is this what you want?”
“I’ll follow my contract,” she said.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Yes,” she said, meeting his gaze. “I’d like to go with you.”
He said to Cyr Vesant, “All right. We have a deal.”
Cyr Vesant chuckled. “What if she’d said no, she wanted to stay?”
“I don’t have to answer all questions either,” said Tal. “Where is this contract, is it written, computerized, what?”
“It’s verbal. It’s the standard contract, am I right, Keylinn? Some of the particulars we added for me would not apply to him.”
Keylinn nodded.“Don’t worry that it’s not written,” she said almost kindly, in the first touch of humanness she’d shown. “We consider it a matter of honor to obey verbal contracts above written ones.”
“I can see we’ll have many interesting hours of philosophical discussion ahead of us,” said Tal, but not as one who was interested. “Meanwhile, as to Belleraphon—”
“Yes,” said Cyr Vesant. She leaned over and tapped the money case again, with a more proprietary air. “I have had business dealings
