A maid spied him and shrieked. “A strange man-form!” she cried.
“No, a familiar one, in strange attire,” he called. “You know me, Ella!”
She shrieked again. “It’s the Cyng!” She ran out to come to him, her breasts bobbing, and flung herself into his arms. “Did you find a wife?”
“Not exactly.”
“Oh, too bad! Then you must settle for me in your bed a while longer.”
“That is no chore,” he said, patting her shapely derriere.
Indeed, it was late, and he needed to rest. He would have to wait until tomorrow to visit the retired Cyngs.
THAT night, after celebrating his return with a minor feast, he came to his bed. Ella was there, moving over so he could have the spot she had warmed for him. She had always been thoughtful in such little ways, and often forgetful in big ways. She was cheerful, buxom, and pretty, but not phenomenally smart, and she had not the slightest ability to multiply joy. Therefore she would never be other than a servant and in due course a servant’s wife. She could be very pleasant as a nocturnal companion.
But tonight he found himself unmoved. “Please, do not expect more of me than sleep,” he said.
“You are annoyed with me?” she asked, hurt.
“No, Ella, merely indisposed.”
“Why?” This was not a proper question, but part of her delight was her social naïveté.
“I have another woman on my mind.”
“Who?”
“The one I wished to marry. But I could not.”
“Oh. Why not?”
“Because she is depressive.”
“But you could have her in bed as a servant, same as me.”
“Somehow I forgot that. I wanted to marry her.”
“Well, you could, if you weren’t Cyng.”
It was a foolish statement, readily dismissed. But somehow it struck home. If he were not Cyng of Hlahtar.
But he could not just step down. He was the only one who could serve the post with the necessary expertise. Except for the former Cyngs, who would not resume the post any longer than absolutely necessary. If he could step down, without having completed his term, he would be no better than a servant himself, and Colene might not have liked that. No, the only way was to complete his term and retire; then he could have the blessing of marriage for love and permanence.
But if he could use the Virtual Mode to find Colene, and bring her back, and keep her here in servant status until he retired, then he could marry her, and their love would never have been sacrificed. Colene had said she would be willing to endure something of the kind; he just hadn’t quite listened. It was feasible. He just had to get her back.
“Thank you, Ella,” he said, and kissed her.
“Oooo,” she exclaimed, thrilled to have pleased him. She clasped him to her, and didn’t mind that all he did was fall asleep.
IN the morning he used one of his established icons to travel to the castle of the Cyng of Hlahtar who had preceded him. This was Kublai, a huge red-bearded man. The man’s dais was extremely high, so that the trees on it could feed from the higher level, before other plants depleted the nutrients. As a result, the trees were impressive, their trunks brilliant green and their foliage extensive.
Darius stood at the edge of the dais, in the region reserved for visitors. “I am Darius,” he said, “Cyng of Hlahtar, come for a dealing.” Again he remembered Colene, who had spoken of dealing for the Mode key. She had done so much for him, considering her unbelief, and he had done nothing for her.
Kublai appeared. “Welcome, Darius! Come into my house!”
With that invitation, Darius stepped out of the visitors’ area and walked the path to the castle. Had he tried to do it uninvited, he would have invoked the dais defenses, which could be of any nature. He would not have attempted to breach courtesy even if prepared for the defenses; a man’s castle was his home.
Kublai’s young and pretty wife served them condensed cloudfruit while they talked. Her name was Koren. She was evidently happy; there had been no depletion of her joy. That was the delight of retirement. Gazing at her, Darius knew his mission here was lost; Kublai would not give up his love-marriage to resume the post.
“News has spread of your concern,” Kublai said. “Not widely, but I believe I know how you feel.”
“Surely you do!” Darius agreed. “I have divorced my second wife, and she was a good woman, and loyal. I could have loved her, but never dared.”
“I divorced ten,” Kublai said. “Each one was painful. Some I did love. But it was a great relief when you came of age and displaced me.”
“I did not truly appreciate the onus, until I saw my first wife depleted,” Darius said. “We had known it would happen from the start, and there was no blame, no rancor. But her joy was gone, and I think even now she can not take pleasure in the good life she has as a retired wife.”
“She will recover her joy in time,” Kublai said. “She may remarry a normal man, and have offspring. Several of mine did.”
“But the flower of her youth will be gone in depression.”
“It is an unkind price,” Kublai agreed.
“I think this is hopeless, but I must ask,” Darius said. “I can not allow any person to take my place who can not perform as well as I would. Only former Cyngs of Hlahtar can do that.”
“Tell me of the need that brings you to this pass.” Darius described his visit to the other Mode, and his encounter with Colene. “I hoped she would be a multiplier,” he said. “The Chip was tuned to such. But she was depressive. She would have multiplied a negative balance.”
“But you love her,” Kublai said.
“I love her. I thought it was just my expectation, and would fade when I realized that I was mistaken about her. But I hadn’t realized that she was doomed to die. Here, at least, perhaps she could live. If not, at least we could try for some happiness before it happened. Pwer says he can institute a Virtual Mode that will enable me to seek her. Perhaps I can bring her here, and if it is suicide she contemplates, she may postpone it while we love. But—”
“But you need a substitute for the post.”
“That is the case. So I come to inquire whether there is anything I can offer you that would incline you to do this for me, and I fear there is not.”
Kublai nodded. “I am in a position to know exactly how much you are asking of me. Not only would I have to resume the burden of Hlahtar, I would have to divorce my lovely love-wife Koren and marry another for other than love. That is not a thing I would do lightly.”
“You would risk much, while I would have no guarantee of accomplishing my mission.”
“You would have no guarantee of surviving yourself!” Kublai said. “I well might be stuck with a full term, until some other prospect matured. That might be a decade!”
“And even if I succeed, and find her, and bring her back here safely, I will not be able to marry her—unless there is someone else to assume the post,” Darius said. “So I can not even promise that your loss would be my gain; probably I would gain less than you lost, even with full success.”
“You are candid.”
“I am desperate. I made a terrible mistake. I will do whatever I must to ameliorate it to the extent I can. Is there a price that will tempt you?”
Kublai was silent. He gazed at Koren. She had of course overheard their conversation, and now stood with tears flowing down her cheeks.
Suddenly Darius understood the significance of those tears. There was a price!
“There is a price,” Kublai agreed gravely.
“Tell me.” He did not want to evince unseemly eagerness, but that was what he felt. At the same time he felt guilty, seeing the dawning misery of Kublai’s wife. This was the classic Hlahtar trade-off: joy for many at the expense of a few. But in this case it was joy for one at the expense of one: not a suitable ratio.