Jelaza Kazone
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Tommy Lee dropped her at the front door, which Mr. pel’Kana had open by the time she reached it.
“Good morning, Captain Waitley,” he said in Terran. “Your brother asks that you go to him in his office upon your return.”
“Thank you.” Theo took a breath, thinking of her priorities, such as breakfast and bringing her crew up to date, and—gods, Kara! who’d been waiting for her all this time…
Val Con wanted to see her. He wasn’t her delm, she didn’t owe him unquestioning obedience—which Kara still took as given—but he was her brother; he had recently done her the not insignificant favor of saving Bechimo’s life, and his request, through the filter of Mr. pel’Kana, was polite and—
Her brother might be able to suggest a strategy for getting the grava citaĵos against her license reduced or removed.
And that was definitely ship business.
“Bechimo,” she said in bond-space, “please ask Joyita to give Kara my apologies. The meeting with the portmaster got complicated, and my brother wants to speak with me. Also, please ask everyone to meet me in the Southern Suite common room in two hours.”
“Yes, Theo. May I suggest that you may want to eat a meal? Your blood sugar is low.”
Right.
She glanced at Mr. pel’Kana standing by patiently, apparently waiting to guide her to Val Con.
“Would you please tell my brother that I’ll join him very soon? I just need to stop by the kitchen and get something to eat.”
“Captain, there is not the slightest need,” Mr. pel’Kana said reproachfully. “I will bring a tray. Follow me, please. We will see you comfortable in very short order.”
Theo opened her mouth—and closed it.
This was not an argument she could win. As far as Mr. pel’Kana was concerned, it wasn’t even an argument they ought to have. Val Con wanted her; it was Mr. pel’Kana’s job to take her to him. She wanted breakfast; Mr. pel’Kana would bring it to her because, by doing so, he accomplished his first task more quickly. It all worked together, and no need for argument from an upstart star captain.
“Thank you,” Theo said with a small inclination of the head, meant to indicate that his service had been noticed. “I will go to my brother at once.”
* * *
“Captain Waitley, sir.”
Mr. pel’Kana stepped aside to allow her to enter the room.
Val Con turned from his place in front of the window and came forward, hands extended.
“Theo, I hardly expected you so soon. Have you eaten?”
She heard the door close quietly behind her as she gave her hands to Val Con.
“Mr. pel’Kana’s bringing a tray.”
“Excellent.” He drew her down the room, back toward the window, where four chairs were grouped around a small table.
“Please, sit,” he murmured.
She took the chair that put her back to the bookshelf and gave her a view of the garden, if she turned her head a fraction, and of the door, if she turned her head a fraction in the other direction.
Val Con sat facing the window, his back to the door. It was his house, after all; the likelihood of an armed enemy making it through that door was vanishingly small.
“You’re up and about early,” he said. “Business at the port, I believe Jeeves said?”
Theo sighed lightly. Val Con was worried about the port and the survey team, just the same as Portmaster Liu, and he wanted to make sure she hadn’t run over the portmaster with her boots on.
“Portmaster wanted to talk to me about the drones we’d left in Surebleak space,” she said.
“Was she displeased?” Val Con asked, too innocently, in Theo’s opinion.
“You could say so. Bechimo’s fined a cantra and there’s a grava citaĵo against him for six Standard Months.”
She met his eyes.
“My personal license has a grava citaĵo laid against it for a Standard Year.”
“That seems…steep,” Val Con murmured, holding her gaze easily.
Theo drew a hard breath and looked away, feeling a flicker of anger.
“It is steep,” she began…and stopped because Mr. pel’Kana had arrived with the tray.
* * *
“I understand that the port’s expanding,” Theo said, finishing the first of several muffins Mr. pel’Kana had provided—“and that’s why they needed to lay a cantra fine against us. But to hit us with those citations—survey team or no survey team! That’s not just reading the regs with a heavy eye; it’s inventing whole new paragraphs!”
Val Con was slouched at ease in his chair, ankle on opposite knee, teacup cradled in his hands.
It was, Theo thought, not very good tea. Surprisingly bad, really, with ’way too much caffeine and an oily texture—more like coffee than a proper tea. Despite which, she had a swallow, hoping to loosen her throat.
“The regs,” Val Con said, apparently having decided that she’d finished saying her piece, which she guessed she had. “The regs do give portmasters discretion. Necessary, as I think you would agree, as all ports are not one port, and conditions even at sister ports may vary…significantly.”
Theo slumped back in the chair and fuffed her hair out of her eyes.
“But this portmaster—”
“Portmaster Liu, as all of us, very much wishes for TerraTrade to find Surebleak Port worthy of an upgraded rating. The survey team has many reasons to find for us—there are not so many full-service ports in this sector.”
“There isn’t any trade in this sector,” Theo pointed out.
“No; you are harsh. There is some small amount of trade and traffic in the sector, and the presence of a certified port can do nothing but increase both. Which is an attractive proposition to TerraTrade.”
He sipped his tea—carefully, Theo thought.
“However, it does not benefit TerraTrade, which is to say, it does not benefit trade to certify an unworthy port. Above all, the process by which ratings and upgrades are determined must be beyond reproach. If the portmaster on a given port is known to read the regs with a heavy eye, as you have it, that is acceptable. A lax portmaster on a port which will, appropriately rated, become the primary draw to trade in the sector—that endangers the process, and TerraTrade’s melant’i, as well as Surebleak’s chances for an upgrade. So Portmaster Liu has reasoned…and I think she is correct.”
Theo shook her head.
“She said she came down particularly hard on Bechimo because I’m your sister. That’s not running a tight port, that’s reading the regs out of one eye for me and the other for everybody else.”
“Ah. Do you have evidence that she has imposed lesser sanctions on other ships which have compromised the shipping lanes?” Val Con asked interestedly.
Theo frowned at him.
“Where would I find evidence?”
“The portmaster’s log, naturally,” he said mildly. “We might easily find if you are the first, and a warning to others—or if you have been shamefully mistreated solely because you are my sister. The log for the last six months is on the public net.”
She blinked, and after a moment, Val Con murmured.
“Will you like more tea?”
Well, yes, she would like more tea. This particular beverage however—
“No, thank you,” she managed, and added, “What is the blend? So I know to avoid it.”
It was honest, but it wasn’t polite, and Theo bit the inside of her cheek.
Inner calm, she told herself, biting hard, and raised her eyes to Val Con’s face, expecting at the least a cool glance and an upraised brow.
But Val Con was laughing.
“I shall make you a gift of the tin, so that you may always have it before you as an example.”
“No, I—”
She took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Sorry? For being Father’s daughter and a member of this family?” He shook his head, grin lingering. “Allow me to compliment you, Theo. That was perfectly done.”
She glared at him.
“Why’re you drinking it, if you don’t like it?”
“The tin was sent to us gratis, possibly in the hope that we will become a customer of the house.”
He raised his voice slightly.
“Jeeves, please ask Mr. pel’Kana to bring today’s tin, and also a fresh pot of Morning Sunrise.”
“Yes, Master Val Con.”
* * *
“Bechimo,” Theo said in bond-space. “Can you access the Surebleak Portmaster’s log back…two years? Before Clan Korval arrived on-planet?”
“Of course, Theo.” He sounded surprised.
Theo didn’t sigh. Between Bechimo and Joyita, no encryption in the universe was safe. She was raising a couple of AIs with no respect for personal boundaries, was what. On the other hand, the information would be…useful.
“Look for legitimate channels for requesting the information before you…get creative,” she said.
There was a soft knock at the door. Val Con rose from his chair, picked up the teapot and went to open.
“Of course,” Bechimo said, like he’d never unlocked a private file in his life.
“I know it’ll take longer that way,” she said. “We’re not on a tight deadline. And while I know you probably won’t get caught, let’s not take the chance, with the portmaster already jumpy over the survey team.”
“Will you undertake the search of the portmaster’s log?” Val Con asked from too near at hand.
He bent and put a small tray holding a fresh teapot and two clean cups in the center of the breakfast tray, and placed a tea tin by her hand.
“I’ve asked Bechimo to take the search back two years, assuming the records are available, so we can compare.”
“Thorough,” Val Con said, reaching for the pot. “I will be interested to learn if there is anything irregular. May I ask Bechimo to keep me informed?”
“Bechimo?” she murmured aloud for Val Con’s benefit, and heard the answer in bond-space.
“It will be my pleasure to send your brother a copy of our analysis.”
“Thank you,” she said, and looked to Val Con, whose whole attention appeared to be on pouring tea.
“Bechimo will be happy to share his findings with you.”
“I am grateful.” He handed her a cup and she took it, happy to catch the aroma of real tea.
She sipped, sighed, and set the cup aside before picking up the tea tin.
“Bitter Truth?” she asked, feeling her eyebrows rise. “Who names a tea Bitter Truth?”
“Plainly, the White Wing Beverage Company does, though in earnest or in jest, I dare not speculate.”
He settled back into his chair again, and considered her seriously.
Theo put the tea tin aside and picked up the last bit of pastry on her plate.
Val Con waited, sipping, until she finished and leaned back into her own chair, cup in hand.
“I wonder, Theo, if you wish to…emancipate yourself, so that you might establish your own family or corporation. As you point out, being known as Korval kin is not necessarily advantageous and, in fact, has been dangerous for you and for your ship.”
She stared at him. Emancipate herself? Repudiate Father, and Luken, Miri, and, well—Val Con? Even Lady Kareen was—
“Um, no,” she said carefully, to her brother’s speculative green gaze. “I don’t want to divorce myself from the—our—family.” She sighed. “I just wish you were a little less prone to trouble!”
He grinned.
“One might return the compliment, were it not well known in the family that we are, as individuals and as a unit, prone to trouble.”
She felt her mouth soften, and gave him a nod.
“Point. But, even if I did start my own family, and formally…divorce myself from Clan Korval, I don’t think the people who’ve been hunting Bechimo are going to see—or care about—that level of detail.”
“They do seem to find the fine print a challenge,” Val Con agreed. “And here we approach my topic. As you are yourself kin without being clan, it may have escaped your attention that Clan Korval is a very small…family, indeed. Dangerously small, one might say. For our own security, we need to improve our situation. The choices before us are to disband and allow each member to form their own alliances with other families or clans—or we might merge with another small clan and thus form a larger, to the benefit of both.”
He gave her a wise look.
“However, as we have just discussed, Clan Korval’s marriage portion will inevitably include trouble, and there are not many clans—of any size—who seek to add to their stores of that particular commodity. As we are now placed on Surebleak, and as Surebleak will, sooner rather than later, so I believe, evolve a hybrid culture, Miri has proposed a third solution, which looks toward the future, rather than seeking to accommodate the past.”
He paused, head tipped to one side.
“Mind, you will receive scarcely any benefit, save what is already yours: as safe a docking as may be managed, a home port, and a home base. Kin to draw upon. A share in all the business of the family.
“You would also be asked to contribute—to give support and provide backup to other family members. At present, the clan is given a share in all personal business of its members, which strikes me as more equitable than assaying dues, because the clan not only shares in profits, it bears a percentage of any loss. Internally…a clan structure seems most workable to me, which is perhaps not surprising—but that may well be modified as we move forward.”
He inclined his head with, Theo thought, a certain amount of irony.
“I believe I may promise that you will not be bored. We would, of course, still be prone to trouble—which does make mutual aid and support somewhat risky. On the other hand, where else would you find backup who perfectly comprehends that sometimes things just—happen?”
Theo laughed.
“It was convenient to know a Scout Commander who could render a field judgment on the status of Complex Logics,” she said. “Having Bechimo declared a solid citizen who works for his living and benefits the community—in fact, that’s how we…might get Bechimo’s six-month citation reduced.”
“You intrigue me. May I know the details?”
Briefly, she outlined it, and saw with some amount of foreboding that both of his eyebrows were raised.
“So, we figured that it would be reasonable and…forward-looking for Bechimo to contact the portmaster on his own behalf, make that case, and offer to perform a service for the community. That would demonstrate that he’s an asset to society, which is directly in line with your judgment.”
“So, you have created a test case, here—immediately?” asked Val Con.
“It was going to have to be tested, sooner or later. The Scouts will eventually get around to reviewing your judgment. Wouldn’t it be helpful to them if there were real-life examples already on the record of AIs actually being social and responsible?”
Val Con sighed. “I note that there is a TerraTrade survey team on port at this moment.”
“But that’s great!” Theo said excitedly. “They’ll be able to report that Surebleak is ahead of the curve in accommodating Complex Logics.”
He grinned suddenly.
“Reasoned, if I may say it, like a yos’Phelium. You will be an asset to the family, Theo, if you decide that way. Do you?”
Theo took a breath and bowed her head.
“Yes. I do.”
* * *
He had offered her another cup of tea, and she had accepted. For a little time, they merely sat, wordless and relaxed, honoring the tea together.
Theo stirred.
“Last night,” she said slowly, “I talked with…Father, and with—your mother.”
He inclined his head politely.
“I trust you found them well?”
“Astonishingly well,” Theo said. “And…and youthened, too. Father looks like your younger brother, and your mother looks to be about Padi’s age.”
“Yes,” Val Con said calmly. “We will need to exert ourselves to educate the youth, I fear.”
Theo glared at him. “They said they were under the Delm’s Order to establish new identities. Do you think that’s going to…stick?”
“In-clan?” He shook his head. “I expect it to be a very open secret. However, we do not wish to strain the credulity of those who are not familiar with us. Better that a guildsman, or a portmaster, or a prospective client be presented with a license that matches the face. They will also each need to pass a piloting test. The tickets must be valid.”
“Yes, they said that, too.” Theo sighed and finished her tea. “It’s going to take some getting used to,” she said, meeting his eyes.
Val Con grinned.
“It will, indeed. I did promise that you would not be bored.”
She laughed, and stood up. “Yes, you did. I’m sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got a crew meeting.”
“Of course.” He rose as well, leaned over and picked up the tea tin. “You won’t want to forget this.”
“I could never forget this,” Theo said fervently and walked with him to the door.