Only in one sense of the word, I thought. Unfortunately, his tarethi-din is here in his place.
I ran through my mental list, not attempting to damp down all emotion but simply ignoring it. It is best, of course, one of my old instructors used to say, if you have brought yourself to a depth of tarethi in which your action is as instinctive as that of a bird or a hillrunner. But this is not always possible in the time you may have. If need be, do your duty and worry about it later. Worry can be dealt with; failure cannot.
I knew what would be happening in the enclosed world of the Kestrel’s officers.
Two hours after departing the station, word would come to the acting captain that the drive was on a positive chain. Past containment, the drive room supervisor would say. An immediate evacuation would be ordered, but the lifeships would be inaccessible. The access codes have been tampered with, they discover. This could be dealt with if there were time; but there will be no time … a truth that will sink through their skins in a few unbelieving minutes. …
Subjectivity exercises cut both ways.
And then, with the same icepick feeling behind the muscles of my face that had been there since the Ginza Bar, I was in Lifeship #3, leaving the area of the Kestrel as quickly as possible. The security board on the Kestrel would show that a ship was missing, but under the circumstances nobody would spare much attention.
I headed not toward the station, which would have been suspicious in any case, but toward a point I had notified Tal Diamond of just before boarding. I told him to have a short-range from the City waiting there to receive me. Now he would either comply, or he would not.
If I died, so much the better.
Chapter 21
“We have your signal,” said the tech he’d pulled out of Transport.
“Good,” said Tal. “Prepare to link up for boarding.”
As the tech began the complicated maneuvers that would link them with the Kestrels lifeship, he said, “It would’ve been a lot easier if this messenger would just meet us at the Station.”
“They prefer anonymity,” said Tal. “As do we. Which I trust you’ll bear in mind later.”
The tech said nothing. His boss on the docks had made it clear that Tal spoke for the Diamond Protector, and if he himself didn’t hold on to this job on the Diamond, he’d be returned to the Station. Where he’d already used up his airspace time.
Nor did he really care what the Diamond higher-ups did. He made the final arrangements and noted that the lifeship was matched and linked for boarding. It took a good half-hour of maneuvering and checking, but that was what they paid him for.
“Ready to allow entry,” he said.
Tal unlocked the entry seal, and Keylinn stepped aboard. She looked very calm.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
“Everything’s fine,” she replied.
As instructed, the tech was already bringing them around for the Diamond. Keylinn took the third seat in the shortie, dropping into it in boneless exhaustion. We almost didn’t need the tech, thought Tal; I’ll have to learn match-and-link maneuvers on my own. He looked back at Keylinn and saw that she had her dagger out and had just drawn a score along her palm. She was regarding the blood that welled up with distant interest.
The tech followed Tal’s fascinated glance, and his eyes widened. “What the hell—you’re going to hurt yourself, cyr. Give me that.” He left his seat and approached Keylinn.
Suddenly she was standing up, so swiftly it was hard to say when she’d done it. The dagger was pointing at the tech. “Stay away from me.” She made a gesture-swipe at him. “Get back.” The tech retreated. She followed. Within seconds he was pressed against the instrument panel.
“Keylinn,” said Tal. When she didn’t respond he said it louder. “Keylinn!”
She turned very, very slightly, not taking her eyes off the tech. “What?”
“Leave him alone, and give me that knife.”
She blinked. Then she stepped back slowly. She handed Tal the dagger and returned to her seat.
The tech glared at Tal. “What the hell was that? Are your messengers all crazy?”
“The sanity of your fellow employees is none of your business. Do you want to continue in this line of work?”
The tech sat down again with a look that said he was far from satisfied. He readjusted the controls, and as he did so he cast a quick, nervous glance over his shoulder at Keylinn. She looked fast asleep.
It was about then that the Kestrel exploded, though they were far enough away that the tech had no idea it happened.
Tal thought: Asleep in the chair like that she looks like a child. One arm was flung over the armrest, and drops of blood fell on the floor from her cut.
Ideals can make people do horrible things, thought Iolanthe. This must be what they meant when they talked about the ends justifying—or not justifying—the means.
On the one hand it would be an enormous relief to tell someone, anyone, of the conversation she’d overheard between Adrian and Fischer.
And yet, regardless of what the Lord Cardinal had told her, now that she was here it felt very wrong to spy on one’s husband and report back. Adrian had been very kind to her since her arrival. He wasn’t a tenth as goodlooking as Will Stockton, and she could never love him, but his courtesy deserved more than this.
She sat in the crimson armchair in the confessional room of St. Thomas the Doubter. Her chair and the empty one beside her stood on a raised oval in one part of the chamber; just below was the angel-shaped block of white marble where penitents major prostrated themselves to claim the mercy of the Church. The block was carved across a shallow pit, also of white marble, and reached by one of the angel’s drooping sleeves,
