Tal pulled away from him and walked toward the simplified level-map that was spread across the wall opposite. Adrian looked up and down the corridor; what with six guards dressed in Three Cities uniforms, they were a conspicuous little bunch. The Governor could still overrule them. He walked over to Tal. “I hate to interrupt—”
“I’ll meet you on the docks in twenty minutes.”
“You’ll meet me in ten, because you’re coming now.” They regarded each other. Tal began, “Personal b—”
“Business,” finished Adrian. “I think I’ve been very tolerant of your personal business, Tal. Do you want to make things more awkward for me politically?”
“You don’t have to come. Just wait for me at the docks.”
Tal seemed to have no human idea of when he was supposed to back down. Adrian Mercati, highest ranking male on the Diamond and possessor of what he was told was great personal magnetism, gave up the matter. “Twenty minutes. No longer, right?”
Tal nodded. Adrian motioned to one of the guards. “Go with him.”
Chapter 18
A flock of birds finds simplicity in its pattern. The patterns of humans can tear the unwary.
Graykey Exercise 2: The Flash of Birds
In Forest Branches
Keylinn:
I entered the friendly atmosphere of food, drink, and money that was the Ginza Bar and found my ally waiting at a table. Behind him a holowall showed the Street of Dreams in Everun, Baret Two, stretching into an infinity of colored awnings. Apparently he chose his backgrounds differently than I chose mine. As I approached the table, he stood up to greet me.
“I don’t even know your name,” I said.
“Ennis Severeth Gilleys,” he replied. “And you’re Keylinn O’Malley Murtagh.”
I sat down hard. “How did you know?”
“I heard your friend call you Keylinn. How many Keylinns can there be running loose in the Wide World?”
It was a common name at home. But he was right; very few Graykey ever left their planet, and with good reason. I would not have myself, had I not been “volunteered” to pay off Cyr Vesant for medical supplies. “You left after I did, then. I didn’t realize my reputation had spread so … violently.”
“My dear comrade, your name was legend in training school. They’re still talking about what you did to Bantry and Perrin. Not to mention a number of other anecdotes—”
“Yes, well, we can skip all that.” I felt my face growing warm. Was there nowhere in the universe one could be safe from one’s past?
“And I’d like to think I would have known you anyway. The O’Malleys are famous for the ‘divine fire’ in time of battle. There was a spark of it in your own eyes this day, whether you know it or not.”
“I’m afraid the ‘divine madness,”’—I gave it its other, less-flattering name—“must have lost its power coming down through the generations. In my own case it merely manifests as a compulsion,” I took a breath, “to perform practical jokes in times of stress.” There; I’d said it out loud.
“Of legendary proportions. Do you know, Perrin hasn’t humiliated another cadet since that night? His class is now known as a soft-pass.”
I moved uncomfortably in my chair. “Can we let all this by? It was a long time ago.” Six years, and it felt three times as long.
But this Ennis Severeth Gilleys seemed determined to track down all my most tormenting thoughts. “Have you considered,” he said, “that they might not have sent you out as a punishment? You were a top cadet, you know. Did you ever think you might be one of the Twelve?”
The Twelve: Every eighty to a hundred and fifty years or so, the Society of Judges sent twelve people to sample the universe outside, to live among strangers. To see if the civilizations were ready for the return of the Graykey, or if we would be courting a disaster like the one that had sent us fleeing to a secret world of our own. Last time only eight had returned, among them the famous Deirdre, who had lived briefly on the Diamond during the Protectorship of Michael Veritie. The verdict was always the same: The Graykey stayed where they were.
“The thought had crossed my mind,” I said slowly, for even to admit such a thing was hubris; but who else left with the Society’s blessings but the designated Twelve? “It’s useless to speculate about things like that. And I wasn’t exactly in good odor with the Society at that time.” I licked dry lips. “What about you? Why did you leave?”
It was Ennis’s turn to look uncomfortable. “I’m quite sure I’m not one of the Twelve,” he said finally. “Trust me on that.”
It would be rude to press something that might upset him. I sought another topic. There was his tarethi-din, but since I couldn’t discuss my own, it would be impolite to ask after his. “What brought you to the Station?” I asked finally.
“Looking for work. Some odd people come through here, waiting for the sector-gate. I thought it was a good chance to gain tarethi.”
I smiled. “And you were successful.”
“Yes.” He took a sip of the whiskey he’d dialed up.
I’d tried the same brand earlier; it wasn’t as good as home. Besides, my tarethi-din was now on-Station. I stayed with colored water. “Have you met any Three Cities people here on the Station?” I asked.
“Some. I’ve even worked with a few in Transport. They’re more or less what I expected.”
“Oh?”
“All respect to your tarethi-din, of course; but clearly these people have inbred too long. Scratch the surface, and they all show signs of, shall we say, mental eccentricities. A very neurotic lot of humans; I’m surprised they’ve functioned successfully thus far.”
Thinking of the people I’d met with Cyr Vesant, I said, “I thought all outsiders were like that.”
“Yes, well, even more than usual. Surely you’ve seen symptoms? Some of them are even a bit frightening. predictable.” He said this last word with a grimace of distaste; unpredictability is a major Graykey sin.
Tal chose this moment
