Matter

are made aware of certain responsibilities you are deemed to have, should you venture into the kind of civilisation that Contact might be interested in.

“I was missioned to do what I did by Contact, which had modelled the situation on the Eighth exhaustively, so that, when I passed on some strategic plan to King Hausk, or suggested sabots and rifling to the royal armourers, it was with a very good and highly reliable idea of what the effects would be. In theory, a reasonably well-read Culture citizen could do the same with no control, no back-up and no idea what they were really doing. Or, worse, with a very good idea; they might want to be king, or emperor, or whatever, and their knowledge would give them a chance of succeeding.” Hyrlis waved one hand. “It’s an exaggerated concern, in my opinion; knowledge in the Culture is cheap beyond measuring, however the ruthlessness required to use that knowledge proficiently in a less forgiving society is almost unheard of.

“Nevertheless, the result is that when you leave the Culture to come to a place like this, or the Eighth, you are watched. Devices are sent to spy on you and make sure you’re not getting up to any mischief.”

“And if a person does get up to mischief, sir?” Holse asked.

“Why, they stop you, Mr Holse. They use the devices they’ve sent to spy, or they send people or other devices to undo what you’ve done, and, as a last resort, they kidnap you and bring you back, to be told off.” Hyrlis shrugged. “When you leave SC, as I did, further precautions are taken: they take away some of the gifts they originally gave you. Certain abilities are reduced or removed altogether so that you have fewer advantages over the locals. And the surveillance is more intense, though even less noticeable.” Hyrlis looked to the side once more. “I trust my even-handedness is appreciated, here. I am generous to a fault.” He looked back at the two men. “I understand most people like to pretend that such oversight doesn’t exist, that it isn’t happening to them; I take a different view. I address those I know must be watching me. So, now you know. And, I hope, understand. Were you worried I was mad?”

“Not at all!” Ferbin protested immediately, as Holse said, “It did occur, sir, as you’d expect.”

Hyrlis smiled. He swirled some wine around in his glass and watched himself doing so. “Oh, I may well be mad; mad to be here, mad to be still involved with the business of war, but at least in this I am not mad; I know I am watched, and I will let those who watch me know that I know.”

“We do,” Ferbin said, glancing at Holse, “understand.”

“Good,” Hyrlis said casually. He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands under his chin. “Now, back to you. You have come a very long way, prince. I assume to see me?”

“Indeed, that I have.”

“And with more intended than simply bringing me the news that my old friend Nerieth has been murdered, honoured though I am to hear from a real person rather than a news service.”

“Indeed,” Ferbin said, and pulled himself up in his seat as best he could. “I seek your help, good Hyrlis.”

“I see.” Hyrlis nodded, looking thoughtful.

Ferbin said, “Can you, will you help?”

“In what way?”

“Will you return to the Eighth with me to help avenge my father’s murder?”

Hyrlis sat back. He shook his head. “I cannot, prince. I am needed here, committed here. I work for the Nariscene, and even if I wanted to I could not return to Sursamen in the near or medium future.”

“Are you saying you do not even want to?” Ferbin asked, not hiding his displeasure.

“Prince, I am sorry to hear your father is dead, sorrier still to hear of the manner of it.”

“You have said so, sir,” Ferbin told him.

“So I say it again. Your father was a friend of mine for a short while and I respected him greatly. However, it is not my business to right wrongs occurring deep inside a distant Shellworld.”

Ferbin stood up. “I see I misunderstood you, sir,” he said. “I was told you are a good and honourable man. I find I have been misinformed.”

Holse stood up too, though slowly, thinking that if Ferbin was to storm out — though God knew to where — he had best accompany him.

“Hear me out, prince,” Hyrlis said reasonably. “I wish you well and tyl Loesp and his co-conspirators an undignified end, but I am unable to help.”

“And unwilling,” Ferbin said, almost spitting.

“Yours is not my fight, prince.”

“It should be the fight of all who believe in justice!”

“Oh, really, prince,” Hyrlis said, amused. “Listen to yourself.”

“Better than listening to you and your insulting complacency!”

Hyrlis looked puzzled. “What exactly did you expect me to do?”

“Something! Anything! Not nothing; not just sit there and smirk!”

“And why aren’t you doing something, Ferbin?” Hyrlis asked, still reasonable. “Might you not have been more effective staying on the Eighth rather than coming all this way to see me?”

“I am no warrior, I know that,” Ferbin said bitterly. “I have not the skills or disposition. And I have not the guile to go back to the court and face tyl Loesp and pretend I did not see what I did, to plot and plan behind a smile. I’d have drawn my sword or put my hands on his throat the instant I saw him and I’d have come off the worse. I know that I need help and I came here to ask you for it. If you will not help me, kindly let us go from here and do whatever you might be able and willing to do to speed my journey to my sibling Djan Seriy. I can only pray that she has somehow escaped infection by this Cultural disease of uncaring.”

“Prince,” Hyrlis sighed, “will you please sit down? There is more to discuss; I might help you in other ways. Plus we should talk about your sister.” Hyrlis waved one hand at Ferbin’s seat. “Please.”

“I shall sit, sir,” Ferbin told him, doing so, “but I am grievously disappointed.”

Holse sat too. He was glad of this; the wine was very good and it would be a criminal shame to have to abandon it.

Hyrlis resumed his earlier pose, hands under chin. A small frown creased his brow. “Why would tyl Loesp do what he has done?”

“I care not!” Ferbin said angrily. “That he did it is all that matters!”

Hyrlis shook his head. “I must disagree, prince. If you are to have any chance of righting this wrong, you’d be well advised to know what motivates your enemy.”

“Power, of course!” Ferbin exclaimed. “He wanted the throne, and he’ll have it, the moment he’s had my young brother killed.”

“But why now?”

“Why not!” Ferbin said, clenched fists hammering at the unforgiving stone of the great table. “My father had done all the work, the battles were all won, or as good as. That’s when a coward strikes, when the glory might be stolen without the bravery that afforded it.”

“Still, it is often easier to be the second in command, prince,” Hyrlis said. “The throne is a lonely place, and the nearer you are to it the clearer you see that. There are advantages to having great power without ultimate responsibility. Especially when you know that even the king does not have ultimate power, that there are always powers above. You say tyl Loesp was trusted, rewarded, valued, respected… Why would he risk that for the last notch of a power he knows is still enchained with limitations?”

Ferbin sat boiling with frustration but had resolved not to say anything this time. This only gave occasion for Hyrlis to look to the side and say quietly, “Do you know? Do you look there? Are you allow—?”

Ferbin could stand it no longer. “Will you stop talking to these phantoms!” he shouted, springing up again, this time so quickly his chair toppled over. Holse, having taken the opportunity to sip from his glass at what had seemed a handily quiet moment, had to gulp and stand quickly too, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “These imagined demons have stolen what wits you ever had, sir!”

Hyrlis shook his head. “Would that they were imaginary, prince. And if there are similar systems of observation within Sursamen, they might hold one key to your difficulty.”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Ferbin hissed through clenched teeth.

Hyrlis sighed again. “Please, prince, do sit down again… No, no, I’ll stand,” he said, changing his mind. “Let’s all stand. And let me show you something. Please come with me. There is more to explain.”