“Hasn’t he ever heard of a link-message?” inquired Spider of his God. When Keylinn looked at him he said, “I just heard from Tal—”
“I know. ‘Official Schedule for Opal Visitors.’ ”
He stared at her. “You, too?” Then he shook his head and walked over to the pile, squatted down, and began pulling off the top papers. “Next thing you know he’ll chain us up when we’re not on duty.”
Keylinn joined him. “We’re always on duty, Spider.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“I do,” she said.
Chapter 26
The essence of Graykey ambition derives from the following logical steps. One: The purpose of life is to gather knowledge. Two: The only real knowledge is bone-knowledge. The aim, therefore, is to gain as much bone-knowledge as possible. There is a Graykey saying: The gathering of tarethi is a selfish act.
Graykey rarely admit to any personal leanings, so it is difficult for the observer to tell how serious they are in their references to reincarnation. The idea behind it seems to be that, given the ridiculously finite human lifespan, sufficient tarethi simply cannot be accumulated. It is only by experiencing innumerable lives, subject to all sorts of influences, that true bone-knowledge may be gained.
The contract, when fully entered into, is a way for a Graykey to experience another life without having to die and be reborn.
Thus the term “tarethi-din,” often mistranslated as “contract-holder. ” In fact, the word can apply to both contract-holder and Graykey equally, and literally means “sharer(s) in bone-knowledge.”
from CAUDLANDER’S
A Tourist Guide to the Graykey
Keylinn:
I found the kennels in a far comer of Helium Park. The stables were next door—wood and brick glowing mellow in the faux-moming-sunlight, horses being brought in and out by boys in old shirts and rolled trousers. Evidently the fastidiousness of the court dress code did not extend to those who cared for their animals. The smells here were overwhelmingly organic, disorganized, and openly disagreeable—so much, in fact, what they were, that I couldn’t help breathing in deeply, letting the pleasure of it tease my Graykey roots.
There were more boys and men, and an occasional casually dressed woman, inside the kennels. It was very easy to spot Adrian. He stood midway down the aisle, barkings and yappings coming from all sides, straw falling out onto the cleared boards of the floor. He wore a dark blue shirt, a cape of the same shade, and black breeches with high boots. You had no sense of his being alien, however, to this environment; on the contrary, he looked almost annoyingly at home. It couldn’t be the identity-shifting of a Graykey, so it must be the confidence of a strong ego. He squatted down as I watched and began unself-consciously addressing a small black and white dog.
“And how are you coming along, Davy? I see that nasty cut is clearing up.” By now Davy had pushed his head and snout into Adrian’s hand and began buffeting it until Adrian patted back. “No, I didn’t bring any treats. You know that Thomas gets mad at me when I do that.” The dog went on buffeting him, apparently sure of an easy mark. Adrian chuckled and stroked him, head to back, so that the tail started thumping like a piston. “You can’t be so obvious, Davy, it’s bad manners—”
He glanced up, caught sight of me and rose, giving the dog a final pat to show it was nothing personal. Davy ignored this change in behavior and tried to twine himself around the Protector’s ankles. “Miss Gray,” said Adrian. “I’m very glad you could come.”
I felt slightly embarrassed at having walked in on him in a private moment. “Thank you for your invitation.” And what did someone of my rank call him, anyway? It was proper to refer to him by his given name when speaking in the third person. Now that I’d moved up to second person, did the rules change? “Forgive me, I have no wish to offend, but I’m not sure how to address you.”
“Sir is always acceptable,” he said, without a trace of embarrassment on his part. “And so is Adrian. If you weren’t living on the Diamond, and a temporary subject, then it would be ‘Protector.’ ”
I was on my guard at once. Was I a temporary subject? They hadn’t made me take any oaths yet, except the oath to do no physical damage while here. “Well, then, Adrian — thank you for the invitation. It took me by surprise.”
“I’ve been meaning to have a talk with you ever since that little incident at Baret Station.”
All my shields went up. Just at that moment Tal emerged from the room at the far end of the kennel, and for once I could read his face. If Adrian’s invitation had taken me by surprise, it was coming as an absolute shock to him.
Then his shields went up, too, and he moved quickly to join us. ‘Tech Gray, isn’t it?” he inquired with distant politeness. “How nice to see you again. Are you sightseeing?”
“I invited her to the hunt,” said Adrian, and the smugness in his voice was palpable to both of us. I forced myself not to see how Tal was dealing with it.
“When was this?” asked Tal.
“Last evening,” said Adrian. “We were so busy going over the records, I must have forgotten to mention it.”
“I see.”
Adrian began walking the length of the kennel, and we followed. He said, “Miss Gray, perhaps I should mention that we have riding habits available here should you wish to change.”
I looked down at my sweater and trousers in surprise. “Isn’t this all right for riding?”
“Perfectly. But I think you’ll find none of the other ladies will be wearing similar clothes. I only mention it if you wish to change; I find that many people take a comment from the Protector as an order. It was not
