"How do you know that I’m Silent?" Lizard asked uncertainly. "I’ve never heard of it."
"I touched you," Clara told him. "The first time two Silent touch flesh-to-flesh in the real world, it creates a weak telepathic bond. If we were both in the Dream right now, we would be able to find each other much more easily than two Silent who have never touched. That first contact also creates a physical jolt that can be very disconcerting for those who are unprepared for it. Your Silence must be very strong, dear, for it to send you to your knees like that." She paused. "Tell me, do you have dreams that are so vivid-lifelike-that when you wake up you feel like this is the dream and your dream was the real thing?"
Lizard nodded in awe. "How did you know-?"
"Holy mother of god," Blanc gasped. "What if I have two of them?" She tapped something on her desk and a tone chimed. "Nater, send Bell into my office immediately."
"Yes, Mistress." The reply came out of thin air.
Lizard’s head swam and he desperately wanted to sit down, but it looked like no one was going to give him permission. Dreams. The Real People told stories of the Dreamtime, the place where everything began and ended. And there were all those meditations the Real People Reconstructionists did to re-learn head talk. Was it all real?
"Who’s Bell?" Clara asked.
"His dam. She was on the same ship. I’m wondering if she’s Silent, too."
"It does run in families," Clara agreed.
"But why wouldn’t the slavers have tested them for Silence already? It seems like they would have."
"Why should they, dear? As you said, the ship was nine hundred years old, before the time of Irfan Qasad, and she was the first human Silent. Why should they spend the time and money to run a test that they thought would only come out negative?"
A knock came at the door. There was a pause. Both women looked at Lizard, and it took him a moment to figure out that they were expecting him to answer it. Fumbling with the knob, he did so, and Bell stepped self-consciously into the room. She gave Lizard a worried look that said, What did you do?
"Bell, come here," Blanc ordered, and Lizard’s mother approached the desk. "Clara, would you …?"
"Of course." Clara got her feet, long black dress rustling. "Hold still, Bell. This won’t hurt."
Lizard wanted to cry out a warning, but Clara touched his mother’s cheek before he could do so. She stiffened and gave a little gasp. Clara nodded and went back to her chair.
"She is Silent as well," she said, "though not as strong in it as her son."
"All life!" Bell said, a note of fright in her voice. Lizard wanted to go to her, but didn’t know if that was allowed. He stayed where he was.
"Well," Mistress Blanc said, getting to her feet. The holographic screen vanished. "Well, well, well. This is welcome news. Lizard, you need not return to the slave barn tonight. I’ll tell Tira to give you a room up here. I’ll decide what to do about both of you tomorrow. Clara, I have to return to the other guests. Dinner will be served soon. Coming?"
"Of course, dear." Clara rose and took Blanc’s proffered arm. The two of them strolled out of the office without a backward glance.
"Son?" Bell asked. The slave bands wouldn’t allow her to call him Evan, but she had never used the name Blanc had assigned to him. With a small start he realized that he always thought of himself as Lizard now. When had that started?
"Son," Bell repeated, "what did she mean? What’s happening?"
Lizard explained what little he knew. "So it looks like we’re both Silent-and a lot more valuable. I don’t understand it all."
"Silent." Bell looked at the leather armchair uncertainly, then apparently decided she had nothing to lose and sat in it. Lizard, greatly daring, perched on the arm. "Once in a while, I would hear the mistress or Nater mention a message that came via Silent courier. I always assumed that Silent meant classified or bonded or something. I never asked."
"So what do we do now?" Lizard said. "I don’t think Mistress Blanc wants me back at the party, and she didn’t say-"
Another knock came. Both Lizard and Bell leaped to their feet. Lizard opened the door cautiously on Pup. He slipped into the room and Lizard closed the door.
"Is it true?" he asked without preamble. "Are you Silent?"
Lizard nodded. "Mom’s Silent too."
"Wow." Pup’s blue eyes were wide and round. "You both go right to the top. No more mucking for you."
"All life!" Bell sank back into the chair. "What do the Silent do?"
"You don’t know?" When they both shook their heads, Pup said, "They communicate. Slipships can jump into slipspace and get to other planets and stuff-Mistress Blanc wouldn’t have much business if they couldn’t-but regular communication only goes as fast as light. I hear tell it’d take hundreds of years for some messages to get where they have to go. But the Silent can communicate with other Silent no matter how far away they are. I don’t know how they do it, but they do. Ask Old Min about it. He says he has a Silent cousin, but I don’t half believe him."
The door began to open, and once again Bell jumped to her feet. Tira entered the office. Lizard’s heart lurched. He was going to be in trouble. He was-
"Mistress Blanc told me to show you to your rooms," Tira said deferentially. "Would you like to go now?" While Lizard was recovering from his surprise enough to formulate a reply, she caught sight of Pup. Her tone and demeanor instantly changed. "What are you doing here?"
Pup blanched. "I-"
"I summoned him," Lizard snapped. "Is that a problem?"
"No, sir," Tira said, contrite. "I’ll show you upstairs now, if you like."
She took them up to the second floor and into a pair of adjoining bedrooms, each with a wide, canopied bed and a well-appointed private bathroom. Tira stood in the doorway between the two rooms, hands behind her back, eyes on the floor. Lizard was amazed at the change. This was Silence?
"Will you require anything else?" Tira asked.
"Yes," Bell said from her room. "Supper for both of us. Bring a wide selection."
"Yes, ma’am." Tira crooked a finger at Pup, who was standing in the corner trying to look inconspicuous. "Come along, you."
"He’ll stay," Lizard said in an imperious tone, "and serve us our dinner."
Tira blinked, then nodded and left. Lizard waited until both doors were shut before running into Bell’s room and throwing his arms around her. She laughed and hugged him back. Pup grinned like an idiot.
"What’s this all about?" Lizard asked breathlessly. "What happens next?"
"I don’t know," Bell admitted. "Look-our own rooms. They’re bigger than the entire apartment back in Sydney. Why are they giving us all this?"
"You’re Silent," Pup reminded her. "You outrank everybody except maybe Nater. Even the managers have to be polite."
They spent considerable time exploring their rooms. Lizard flung himself on the bed and found the sheets were fine, heavy linen with a raw silk bedspread woven in a purple pattern. It was the first time he had lain on a real bed in three years. The bathrooms were an equal treat, each with a whirlpool bath and a multi-directional shower that fascinated Pup no end.
A while later, a knock came at the door and a slave Lizard didn’t recognize wheeled a large linen-draped cart into Bell’s room. The covered dishes on top rattled slightly, and delicious smells filled the air.
"Thank you, Kip," Bell told him. "You can go."
Kip left, and Lizard lifted covers. Although he didn’t recognize a lot of the food, he could see at a glance it was infinitely better than anything the muckers got, even on holidays. Bell gave it a critical kitchen eye.