Eyes of the Calculor (70 page)

"In the long run it would make more sense for aviads to live in the Commonwealth than to go to all the trouble of keeping an air link with Tasmania Island open."

"That debate is currently raging, believe me."

"Ilyire would love to hear that. Just imagine, be tolerant or become extinct."

"I intend to tell him."

They reached the end of the ascent strip, turned, and started back. Velesti looked uncomfortable, and made several attempts to speak before finally succeeding.

"Martyne, I am truly sorry about Samondel. If I could do anything, you know I would."

He shook his head.

"Frelle Velesti, only the super-regals can rebuild the link to Moun-thaven, and the Avianese now seal a clockwork bomb aboard before each flight. It has to be disarmed by someone with the right key, on the ground, before six hours have elapsed, or else there is one very large bang. To cross the Pacific I need four jumps of twenty hours, plus multiple flights to ferry huge stores of compression spirit, plus the problem of finding Samondel on a continent bigger than ours."

Velesti shook her head and folded her arms behind her back.

"The Avianese are liable to be less than sympathetic to a project like that. You certainly have a habit of getting yourself into impossible situations."

"True."

"Well, look on the bright side," she suggested.

"Is there one?"

"You still have me."

"There isn't one."

Rochester, the Rochestrian Commonwealth

Velesti stood at the leadlight windows of the Highliber's office, looking out over the roofs and towers of Libris. A leather folder was in her hand. Across Libris Plaza masons were already at work repairing the damage done to the palace by both the bombing and

the Libris bombards, and in the distance a dark speck that was a super-regal was moving slowly across the sky. Presently Lengina entered, a sheaf of papers in her hand. Velsti turned and gave a shallow bow.

"Pleased to report that Prophet Jemli has been expelled from the Woomeran Confederation, and has returned to Kalgoorlie," Velesti reported. "The new Woomeran overmayor wants to open peace talks with you."

"That is good news, Frelle Disore. Arrange a date and place."

"At once, Overmayor."

"Wait, I have good news too, Frelle Disore," the overmayor said brightly. "On my recommendation, and after reading the late High-liber's reports on you, the Libris Dragon Gold Council is to make you a Fellow."

"I'd like to see them try," mumbled Velesti.

"Sorry?" asked Lengina.

"Nothing, esteemed Frelle. But why should I sit on the Gold Council?"

"Because of what is in my latest declaration."

She handed a sheet of illuminated poorpaper to Velesti. Velesti scanned it and looked up almost at once. She considered feeling faint, but that was much too silly. She considered laughing, but it was no laughing matter.

"Why?" she eventually exclaimed, staring steadily at her over-mayor and tapping the paper.

"Because you are brilliant, fair, frightening, vindictive, merciless, brave, cunning, devious, unpredictable, and as pure as wind-driven snow in the eastern highlands."

Velesti read the paper's words again.

"I have a very, very high price to demand before I agree," she announced.

"Well, then, let us discuss it," responded Lengina, taking her by the arm and guiding her in the direction of the waterfall courtyard.

IVIanuel had seen thousands of couples pass through Cafe Marellia's doors, but on this particular night he had a pair of patrons that nothing could have prepared him for. One was Velesti, which was bad enough in itself. The other looked a lot like Zarvora, except that Zarvora was dead. On the other hand, the one who looked like Zarvora was also semitransparent. Manuel set the tray down on their table, gave them a forced grin, then left hurriedly.

"You are not drinking your coffee," said Velesti, after taking a long sip from her own mug.

"I am trying to cut back," said Zarvora, waving her hand through the mug. "Have you an answer to my proposal?"

"I do, and it is no."

"What?" exclaimed the hologram.

"I said no, I can't put it more simply than that."

"But you are female."

"So? I have always enjoyed the company of women, and being one myself removes a lot of social barriers."

"But I have just offered to restore you to being Glasken—or at least male."

"No thank you."

"Velesti, this is no trick. There is a youth, a sailor, who was aboard a river galley during the recent battles. He was trapped when the galley sank, and was only rescued after a quarter hour underwater. His body lives, but his mind does not. We can obtain Theresla's interface collar from Ilyire, we could install it on the sailor's neck."

"But I like this body. Being female liberates me."

"I cannot believe what I am hearing!" snapped the hologram. "I know you too well. You're never going to let any man have any sort of access to what you have to offer."

"True, but there is more to life than sex."

"Fras Glasken, has living as Velesti driven you mad? Don't you remember? You hated being female."

"Only at first, but then I began to grow. Now I am more than Glasken could ever have been, and I could never go back. Could you give up being Mirrorsun?"

"No, but a body would have its uses. I had planned to take over Velesti, but not to imprint on her brain as you have. I need access to eyes and hands, your services have become too unreliable."

"Besides, your experiment with me proved it could be done in safety," Velesti pointed out.

"Well, yes," Zarvora admitted sheepishly.

"So? Why not make the sailor with the dead mind your hands and eyes, but without giving up Mirrorsun?"

"But he is male" said the hologram, distaste on its face.

"Indeed he is, Frelle Zarvora."

"But I want to be Velesti! She is highly placed in Libris and the Commonwealth."

"But I say no. Er, could I have your shortbread, seeing as you can't eat?"

"No!" Zarvora snarled, putting a semitransparent hand over the plate. "Glasken, I'll wipe your mind archives from Mirrorsun, you will be stuck as a girl until the day you die."

"Do it," said Velesti, taking the shortbread through her hand. "I'm fully imprinted on this brain by now, and quite independent. Besides, we agreed that you would wipe the archives anyway. When this body's life is over I'd like to die, thank you."

"This is just bare-arsed revenge, Frelle Velesti."

"Oh, yes, Frelle Zarvora."

It was only to be expected that Alaxis Sandar's mother seriously contemplated slamming the door and running to an upstairs window to scream for the Constable's Runners after opening it to find Velesti on the doorstep. Before she had been able to make the decision, however, Velesti had stepped inside the doorway, where she now stood with her arms folded behind her back. Behind her, still in the street, were several Tiger Dragons.

"I am the Overmayor's representative," Velesti explained without a great deal of interest in the woman, her husband, their three younger children, or the family medician—who happened to be paying a visit. "I am here to visit Fras Alaxis."

"Ah, of course, Frelle. His galley captain said that he might be granted a medal," responded the youth's father.

"Medician, I want ajar of medicinal spirits," said Velesti. "Frelle Sandar, I want a piece of clean cotton cloth and a half hour alone with your son."

"What do you mean, esteemed Frelle?"

"I may be able to revive him."

"Revive—"

"And in return he is to join the Dragon Librarian Service. Do you agree to that?"

"But of course, Frelle. He can only breathe and swallow—we'll agree to anything that may improve his condition."

Alaxis was lying on the lower level of a double bunk in a small room, which he was sharing with his younger brother. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing evenly. He gave no response at all when his mother squeezed his hand.

"He joined the Rochestrian Mayoral River Navy to see the Commonwealth, and to help with the family debts," said Fras Sandar as Velesti drew back the youth's eyelids, then snapped her fingers before his face. "He was just seventeen."

There was no response. The medician handed her ajar of spirits, then Frelle Sandar came in with a clean cloth.

"I have a very advanced medician's device," Velesti explained. "I can bring him back, but he will have no memories, only skills. He will be able to walk, eat, speak, and write, but he will not remember any of you or any of his past life. Are you willing to accept that?"

Alaxis Sandar's parents nodded.

"Then get out and close the door after you."

Once they were gone, Velesti peeled the band away from her neck but it remained attached at the back. She began to tug gently. Blood began to trickle down her skin. In the mirror she could see long, lank filaments coming out of her neck. The last of them came free and hung limp, then they began to slowly retract into the band.

Velsti steadied herself with a hand on the frame of the bunk. The room was spinning and all of her movements seemed faster than her mind was used to. It was several minutes before she felt confident enough to let go of the frame, and several more before she was able to swab the inner lining of the band. She examined a little patch at the back. It seemed to be a collection of tiny needle points.

Tearing a strip from the cotton cloth, she soaked it in spirits, and swabbed the back of her own neck. Wincing with the sting of spirits on the patch of broken skin, she wrapped the strip around her neck and buttoned her collar to hold it in place.

"How are you feeling?" tinkled a tiny voice from the band on her lap.

"Terrible," she admitted as she turned the sailor over and splashed spirits on the back of his neck.

"The filaments of the collar are more efficient than the nerves of your body. Now that you are without them, you will take some days to get used to moving about. You body will not feel like your own."

"I have had plenty of experience with my body not feeling like my own," replied Velesti. "What about my image in Mirrorsun?"

"All sponged away, and the storage space prepared for better things. I have been short of space ever since I fissioned. All that remains of you is in your head."

"I would have thought you had room for dozens of people's images in Mirrorsun's fabric."

"Most of the human body is not brain, just as most of Mirrorsun is not what the ancients called neural transaction fabric. But even if space were plentiful, I would not want company. I learned that by trying to share Mirrorsun with you, when you were Glasken."

Velesti lifted the band and applied it to the neck of the sailor. As she rolled him onto his back again she noticed that the band was growing hot. Almost at once Alaxis's eyelids fluttered, then opened.

"Adequate," whispered Zarvora through the youth's lips.

"Then I shall leave you to his family."

"Appreciate . . . help."

"But I want you to suffer."

"Bastard."

Velesti stood up too quickly, reeled, and nearly fell. For several minutes she paced the little room, getting used to walking while unaided by the neck band. Zarvora's voluntary control was improving quickly as well.

"This penis, how does it work?" asked Zarvora as she explored beneath the blankets.

"Really well, if you are that way inclined. Now, try to think male thoughts. Your new family awaits you, and remember, you are Fras Alaxis Sandar."

Velesti helped the youth from the lower bunk, and he stood swaying in his nightshirt as she opened the door. His mother, who had been waiting outside, took one look at her revived son, shrieked, then fainted. His father rushed in and embraced him as the other children tried to revive their mother.

"Have him report to Libris for induction as a Dragon White Librarian tomorrow," said Velesti as she stepped over Frelle Sandar's body.

She walked quickly from the house and hurried off down the street with her squad of Tiger Dragons.

"Did the procedure go badly?" asked the Dragon Blue in charge of the squad, noting that she was in haste to get away.

"It went perfectly, Fras."

"But then why are you so anxious to leave?"

"I cope very badly with gratitude. Next time I promote you, be sure not to thank me."

"I'll be sure not to," replied the Dragon Blue diplomatically.

Siding Springs, the Central Confederation

I he monks at Siding Springs were very much aware that the world was watching over their shoulders as they in turn watched through

the largest operational telescope in the world. It was the twenty-first of August, and Venus had been under observation for a full week. As it happened, Brother Tontare was at the eyepiece. The abbot was pacing the floor some distance below.

"Any sign of a flash of fire yet?" called the abbot.

"Nothing," Brother Tontare called back. "The Mirrorsun child might have arrived while Venus was beneath the horizon. It was due to arrive yesterday, after all."

"Keep watching. I want a flash to be seen, I need a flash to be seen, I will have a flash seen. Anything else bar the Mirrorsun child arriving at Venus will be a victory for the Reformed Gentheists."

"They will deny that any flash was seen by us, even if we saw one. You know what religious people are like."

"That had better have been a joke, Brother Tontare," warned the abbot, ceasing his pacing and glaring up.

"If you say so, Reverend Abbot. But why concentrate on a mere flash that is gone a moment after it happened? Why not the shadow of the Mirrorsun child on Venus, after it has formed up and unfurled? That would be there forever, for all to see. Well, those with a big enough telescope, anyway."

"The theoretician from Euroa, Brother Rangen, has argued that it will not be visible from Earth."

"Well, he is wrong, I can see it now, on the crescent of Venus."

"You what? Why didn't you say so earlier, you wretch!"

The abbot scrambled up the steps, and saw exactly what the monk had reported. The report of the discovery was quickly dispersed into the beamflash network, but other observatories in other monasteries had seen the shadow on the distant planet as well by now. Jemli denounced the observations as the work of devils in all telescopes. The monks had an exorcism performed on their largest telescope, but the mark on the face of Venus remained. The Mirrorsun child would not return to smash into Earth.