“What was that song?” she asked as they climbed wearily to their rooms, released finally by the lateness of the hour.
“Children’s rhyme. Silly thing; but it’s got a good tune and everyone knows it. I used to play it a lot at dances.” He looked wistful for a moment, then sighed. “Even without the mesuch, the world’s turning sour. I wouldn’t have thought it before, but this could be a good thing in its way. Lance the poisons and let them out like you did with Danor’s wound.”
2
Marrin Ola woke with the irritated feeling that the day was starting wrong and was going to get worse as it went along. Three times last night the alarm went off, but by the time he and the others got to the setoff point, there was nothing to be seen. If they’d needed more warning about what was going to happen, they’d gotten it. He was angry with both the Yaraka and the Chave but not much surprised. Assassinations of every sort were the prime means of politics on Picabral, with blackmail, abduction, bribery, and threat following close behind. He lay with his fingers laced beneath his head, staring at the ceiling, smiling a little. His growing-up time had given him a fine training for the subtler games on University. These he actually enjoyed. Most of the time. He was good at playing them, too. But he counted on these projects that took him offworld and into quieter, often kinder societies to renew his enthusiasm for staying alive. The Chav spy and what he’d introduced were corrupting and destroying that, forcing him back into a situation where he had to play those games again. Marrin took those actions very personally.
He rolled off the bed and went through his exercises until sweat was dripping off him, then he showered with the pulsing spray head he’d brought with him, a bit of lore he’d picked up from more experienced Aides on earlier field projects. By the time he was dressed, he was still angry, but a lot readier to face what had to be done.
Aslan looked down at Duncan Shears. “Just get things buttoned up. If the Goлs can figure a way to catch the spy, we might be able to come back.”
Duncan chuckled. “That’s the… what… fifth time, Scholar. You worry too much.”
“I know, I know, worse than a nervous horse.” She settled into the jit’s passenger seat. “Right. Let’s go, Marrin. And if you see that pair of young trouble-onthe-hoof, pull up and let me take my turn at them.” She sighed. “All we need is a dead child.”
Marrin drove slowly on the dusty circle road that curled round the outside of the dumel. “Maybe they listened this time. Or maybe their parents dusted salt on their little tails and made sure they were in school. Look, Scholar, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have involved them.”
“You couldn’t know the Chave would be so brazen about targeting us.”
“I should have. It’s an obvious ploy once they managed to take out the com.”
Aslan snorted. “You and my mother. You’d get along well, I think.”
“Um. That’s as it may be. Listen, Scholar, I’ve been thinking. Shadith has been off air for three, four nights now. She wouldn’t know about the spy because we didn’t the last time she called. From the description the youngsters picked up, he’s got a miniskip, wouldn’t take him long to cross the plain and start working mountain choreks. Because we haven’t heard of any doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Could be she’s either dead or hostage by now.”
“We went over that last night. And over it. There’s no way of knowing. Those handcoms aren’t supposed to go down, but when you don’t have a store handy to replace parts, anything can happen. I know I should have tried to pry another one out of the Goлs, but he turned frugal on me. ‘I have to account to headquarters,’ he said. ‘We agreed to finance you,’ he said, ‘but not put you up in luxury.’ Luxury!” She sighed. “They do it all the time, Marrin, you might as well get used to it. There’s some little niggle they get caught up on. So?”
“Turned frugal? Or thought he’d got all he needed from you. I’d wager my University Stock that’s what it is. Once you got the Bйluchar calmed down and the language transfer, he thinks he doesn’t need us any more. We’re just a nuisance and an expense.” He took a deep breath, clamped down on his anger. “Well, I expect you know that.”
Aslan chuckled. “Well, I expect I do.”
He glanced at the workers in the fields. In one, a man was plowing a team of two red and white spotted blada; the next field over two Meloach were guiding water from a flume into furrows between rows of diokan. Beyond them was pasture where a herd of caцpas grazed. “I hate this, you know. I know what it’s worth, this kind of peace. Picabral…” He shook his head.
“Marrin, do I need to remind you?”
“No. Lost causes only give me heartburn.” He managed a weak grin. “Listen, I’ve been thinking.” He took the jit up onto the causeway, cut speed to a crawl. “Scholar, the Chav Ykkuval has till the next
Yarak supply ship arrives to gut the Enclave. Chances are he’s finished being subtle about it. If you can call bribery and sabotage subtle. I don’t think our Goлs is up to his weight and I certainly don’t think we want to be inside that fence when the Ykkuval decides it’s time to move. As long as there’s no one to contradict him, he can claim it’s locals’ work, armed by smugglers with him sitting across sea innocent as a haloed saint. I think we should use Shadith as an excuse and head for the mountains. If you can squeeze a flikit out of the Goлs, that’d be best, but passage on one of the sailbarges might do. As long as it’s understood we go armed and we’ll shoot back if attacked.” He glanced in the mirror, swore and stopped the jit.
Standing on the seat, he faced back along the road. Cupping his hands round his mouth, he yelled. “You two get back in ‘school. You know what I told you.”
Aslan twisted around. The road was empty back to the place where it curved around a small wood lot and up onto the causeway. After a minute, though, a pair of caцpa heads poked round the trees and slowly, reluctantly, two riders edged into view.
Marrin dropped into his seat, brought the jit whipping around, and sent it roaring at them.
They shied, glanced back as if they were thinking of taking off, then sat their saddles, faces pinched with chagrin, thin shoulders slumped, waiting for the jit to reach them.
He stopped under the noses of the nervous ponies, got to his feet, and stood leaning on the top of the windshield while they quieted the little beasts. “Cha oy, just what did you think you were at, kekerie?”
Glois and. Utelel exchanged glances, then Glois took the lead. “Ute’s Parent had these caцpas he wanted exercised, so we did.”
“Uh-huh. And you’re not going to tell me this is another holiday?”
“Um. Ute and me, we got all our lessons done, we din’t see reason to scrunch round in some hot room list’ning to teacher bababaing on about stuff we already know.”
“Uh-huh. Let me tell you something, young keklins. This isn’t a game. It never was. And I never should have opened my mouth to babies too young to know what it means to keep a promise.”
“We didn’t promise you nothing!” The last word ended in an indignant squeak.
“Equivocation and silence, young keklins. You know what I mean.” He spoke slowly, watching them wince as if the words were switches hitting, them. “How do you think I’d feel, if my doing got you killed? You want to load that on my head? How do you think your parents would feel if you got killed doing something like this? Glois, you told me you don’t have any brothers or sisters and your father’s gone? Who’s going to take care of your mother? Utelel, you’re going to be Eolt someday, do you want to miss that for a silly game that isn’t a game at all?” He stared somberly at them, shook his head. “You did a good thing, warning us about the spy. You saved my life, maybe all our lives. Now go home and stay away from the Marish.”
He watched them ride slowly away, then collapsed into his seat, pulling a handkerchief from his sleeve and wiping the sudden sweat off his face. “They’re good kids. Bright and full of the devil in all the right ways. Gods, I hate this!” He cracked his palm down on his thigh. “I HATE THIS.”