Van shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, not here. It won’t make the RSF think less of me, since that’s not possible. I had a little difficulty in leaving New Oisin…”
“The same sort of trouble as on Scandya…as the prime minister?”
“This time I was better prepared, but there were casualties…That’s why they want me. They tried to kill me, and the RSF doesn’t allow self-defense, not when their cover-up might be disclosed.”
Emily nodded slowly. “I’m not surprised.” She reached across the table and touched his hand. “It must have been hard for you.”
“I like working for IIS…” He shook his head. “I never told you.”
“Never told me what?”
“The managing director—his ship was caught in the Revenant mess. He didn’t make it through. I ended up as the head of IIS. That’s one reason I’m here.” Van stressed the word “one” ever so slightly. He swallowed, and added, “You’re another.”
Emily laughed softly. “Even if I’m only one of several reasons, that’s one of the most flattering things said about me in many years—that a man actually piloted a ship from systems away to have dinner with me.”
Van could feel himself flush, although he doubted that Emily would see his reaction in the muted light of the restaurant. “I wanted to spend more time with you the first time I came through, but I couldn’t. I didn’t control the schedule. In a way, I still don’t.”
“That happens.”
“I still remember the tour we took of Cliff Spire.”
“It seems so long ago.”
“Not for me,” Van blurted.
“You are more of a romantic than anyone knows,” Emily said. “Why didn’t you ever find someone?”
Van looked into the half-empty pale ale, and then into her gray eyes. “It just took longer.”
This time, she was the one who looked down. Then, she looked up and smiled. “I suppose I asked for that.”
“No…you didn’t. I’ve never been known for subtlety in personal matters.”
“It might be better if you didn’t try to prove it again. Not immediately.” But there was a twinkle in her eyes.
“Not immediately,” Van agreed. “Oh, before I forget. Would you mind if I asked for a small professional favor? I think it’s a small favor.”
Emily lifted her eyebrows.
“News…news from Sulyn and Bannon. I’d also like anything you can come up with about or by a mediacaster named Ashley Marson. And about my brother Arturo, if you can.”
“I can see. That shouldn’t be that difficult. It will take a while. It seems to be hard to get news or information about Sulyn.”
Van was afraid of that. “If you would just send it to the local IIS office. Miryam Adullah is the director, and she’ll get the information to me.”
“She’s a formidable lady, everyone says.”
“I know. I’m meeting with her tomorrow morning.”
They both paused as their entrées appeared.
Van took another sip of the pale ale, then nodded to the server for another. He stopped. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d needed a second.
“Tell me again that you came all these light-years to see me.”
“I came more than all those light-years to see you.” Van offered the statement deadpan.
Emily laughed, warmly.
“And I love your laugh.”
“It’s too direct. My mother always told me that a lady never laughed like she meant it.”
“That’s terrible…”
“She was very old-fashioned.”
Van took a bite of the flank steak, barely tasting it as he watched and listened to Emily—his Senta. He hoped.
Chapter 82
Miryam Adullah looked across the conference table at Van. “He told me that you’d be his successor, but I didn’t expect it so soon.”
“He didn’t bother to tell me,” Van said. “I thought Nynca would be his successor.”
“What did she say to you? You asked her, didn’t you?”
“We talked about it. She said she could plan, but that she wasn’t suited for the position.”
“She’s not ruthless enough.”
“Ruthless?”
Miryam smiled, a wide but sympathetic smile. “I’m not a big believer in coincidence, Van. Whatever happened to the Jerush system has Trystin’s aura all over it.”
“A solar flare? How could that be?”
“The timing was rather suspicious, and if anyone could coax a sun into flaring, he could. There’s a great deal about Trystin that’s more than mysterious. I’m pushing sixty, and I’ve known Trystin since I was nineteen. He looked the same then as he did the last time I saw him. He’s the only human with an open entrée to the Farhkans. He also opposed every aspect of the Revenant expansion, and he was getting more and more frustrated with the unwillingness of the other major Arm powers to rein in the Revenants.”
“That doesn’t mean he could make a sun flare.”
“I’ve read the reports. It wasn’t anything like a nova—but a major flare. There’s a big difference. Not to the people. They’re all dead. But to the system. It’s still there.”
“Five hundred million dead and the system uninhabitable for years, at least without planoforming.”
“You know I’m right,” Miryam said. “There’s no point in talking about it more.”
Van shrugged.
“You’ll see. And don’t be too surprised when you decide that he was right.” Her dark eyes fixed on Van. “That’s done. You’re here, and you can’t stay that long. I’ve got a schedule laid out.” A holo field appeared in the center of the conference table. “Let’s go over it. If you think something’s not necessary, let me know.”
Van doubted he would have any objections. She knew Meroe and the Kushite systems far better than he did, and he’d seen the accounts.
All in all, Van spent two hours with Miryam and did not leave until she had extracted a commitment for almost all of his time for the following four days, beginning the next morning.
Then, feeling more than slightly tense, he made his way to Sappho’s house on the west side of Kurti. He’d debated calling ahead, but decided to risk not alerting her.
Of course, she wasn’t home.
So Van found a small restaurant and ate, then called the house.
When she answered, he broke the link and made his way back.
He
