She was not deterred. “Jason too. And again, since those are all things I’m dedicated to changing about the way our family does business, you have all the more reason for wanting to stay and help if you can—Come on, Andrea. Ten years from now our family’s business ethic will be unrecognizable, and our contribution to human civilization entirely beneficial. How can you walk away from that?”
I had no doubts now. I believed her. Them. I believed that Jason and Jelaine were sincere idealists, meaning well not only for me but also for this world the Family had built. I believed that they may have made some mistakes along the way, but they were also a legitimate hope for a better tomorrow. I also believed that if I stayed here as they proposed, I could have the life they offered, complete with their kinship, a gift that I now found I craved as much as I’d craved nothing else.
Against that I had Dejah’s warning, my own nagging sensation that I’d missed something, and the mysterious retreat of the Porrinyards, who had against all prior habit abandoned me to make this decision alone.
Remember who you are.
I also thought of something a very wise man had once said to me, many years ago. “The Devil never tempts you with a bad offer.”
Pushing the now-dozing creature from my lap, so I could lean close, I said, “I’m not ready to say yes or no. But one last question, for the moment. Back on the Royal Carriage, you kept refusing to explain any of this until I heard it from your father’s lips. You just did a fine job telling me everything all by yourself. Why was it so important to wait?”
She gave a little half-smile as the creature ousted from my affections leaped up on the table in front of her to demand its tribute. Scratching it under the chin, she said, “My father always regretted what happened to his sister. When he sent the invitation he told us he wanted to tell you that face-to-face. He had the chance a few days ago, when we introduced him to you for the first time, the same conversation where he asked you if he could see you with long hair. I’m sorry you can’t remember, but he wept. Just as much as he wept on that day when Jason came home from Deriflys.” Dammit, there went the tear ducts again.
She stood, eliciting a sad protest from the furry thing, and spent a moment watching as another dekarsi flitted past the balcony. The light of the sun, now just a blood-red sliver sinking beneath the mountains on the horizon, gave her face a warm glow, making me realize something that I should have seen the first time I laid eyes on her. Her profile looked like mine. “Meanwhile, everything else is going well. My people are dismantling the countermeasures put in place by Vernon Wethers. I’ve gained control of his projects and put them in the hands of somebody I trust. Monday Brown’s on board. Jason’s out with Philip, who we’ve left alone up until now but who needed to be brought into the loop now that he knows what I am. There’s every sign of him seeing reason. The doctors say you’re well enough to travel, which I hope means you’ll agree to join Father, Philip, and me—‘me’ meaning both of my bodies, in this case—for a friendly family dinner at Main Estate. We have a lot to catch up on.”
Before Jelaine left so I could shower I insisted on being shown to my satchel, which had been segregated in a separate closet as if out of fear that the grubby detritus of my pre-Bettelhine life might somehow contaminate the finery of my existence among the exalted.
I’d forgo the usual severe black suit and dress like the locals this one time, but I’d be damned if I was going to go anywhere without my spare Dip Corps insignia unless I was the one who decided that it was no longer a part of my life.
After the shower, which was steaming and luxurious and scented and wet and everything that the dry pulsed sonics I was used to at home were not, came the nightmare of picking out something to wear. I was accustomed to donning variations of the same black suit every day to remove the necessity of that choice from my daily life. But Jelaine had advised me that this would be off-putting on a family occasion, so I let her pick an appropriate outfit out of all the others that now belonged to me: a ridiculous, asymmetrical, but important-looking thing with flared shoulders, one bared arm and one padded wrist-length sleeve. I considered myself lucky that the same strategy hadn’t been applied to the pants, which were so loose-fitting that they brushed my legs as I wanted, but at least covered both to an equal length. The entire getup had golden buttons that didn’t fasten to anything and false pockets that didn’t seem intended to carry anything. Don’t get me started on the shoes. I’ve never understood why any woman would subject herself to the discomfort of elevated heels unless she was ashamed of her height or being tortured for state secrets, but Jelaine assured me that the pair she’d picked out for me went with everything else and I acquiesed out of sheer sensory overload.
The skimmer flight to Main Estate at about eight hundred kilometers away, a thirty-minute trip, was another issue. I’ve never liked heights or planets in general all that much, but Jelaine kept pointing out landmarks of interest along the way, from the snowy mountain range she identified as Xana’s tallest and most treacherous to the verdant rain forest that took over as the land became a vast plain only twenty seconds of flight time away. She pointed out half a dozen smaller estates, some of them perched in improbable places that seemed unforgivably harsh choices for a family whose members got to decide what they saw when they looked out their windows every morning; there was, for instance, a desert about as topographically interesting as a bootprint occupied by some addled Bettelhine who insisted on subjecting himself and his fifty retainers to life in canvas tents. Still, I began to see what Jelaine meant when she said that I could claim an estate in any ecosystem I desired. I found myself wondering whether Xana had an orbital wheelworld or undersea facility, thinking that I’d take corridors and canned air if it could be all mine.
Two minutes from the end of the flight, over a region of green hills dotted here and there with white patches from a recent snowfall, we started seeing small groups of houses, which Jelaine identified as the homes of workers assigned to Main Estate but not senior enough to live on the grounds. She cut our speed and lowered our altitude to just above the treetop level as we drew closer, so she could point out more areas of interest: a hill taller than most that she identified as camouflaged servants’ quarters, gardens, a personal zoo, and stables for horses of not only the terrestrial variety but, she said, several alien and engineered variants from the gigantic to the winged. I spotted one lumbering gray creature, with a nose like some kind of serpent, wandering around sans human supervision. We were well past it and within sight of the mansion itself before it occurred to me that I had just seen my first elephant.
Now, that’s just showing off. And it was. That’s exactly what it was. That’s exactly what Jelaine was doing.
And it was working too. From time to time I found myself beaming. I even laughed once or twice at jokes she made. I think I may have made one of my own, though that was a genuine stretch and any laughter coming from her might have been politeness on her part.
It didn’t matter.
What mattered was how I felt.
I belonged here.
I won’t describe my first sight of the mansion itself, with its ten wings and its hundreds of windows and the two rows of towering spear-shaped trees providing a sort of arboreal honor guard for any visitor intent on approaching the colossal front doors on foot. It was a castle, pure and simple, and every brick in the entire edifice was a tribute to the magnificence of any who dwelled within. Nor will I describe the bowing and scraping of the dozens of servants who had come out to greet us—I actually do mean us, as their awe was directed not just at Jelaine but at me as well, the most discomfiting of the sensations this day had shown me yet—as we approached those doors and they drew open to reveal a marbled hall that disgorged three tiny figures I recognized as Hans, Philip, and Jason Bettelhine, all three grinning at us as if we’d been missing and presumed dead for years.