Текст книги "Cyteen "
Автор книги: C. J. Cherryh
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Текущая страница: 31 (всего у книги 61 страниц)
"Where are my letters?" she asked, looking straight at him, looking him right in the face.
Giraud looked at her straight too. "At Fargone. I'm sure she read them."
"Why didn't she answer me?"
Giraud took a moment. Then: "I don't know, Ari. I truly don't know. I don't know if I can ever answer that. I'll try to find out. But it takes time. Everything between here and Fargone—takes a long time."
She turned her face away from him, to the window where the outback showed hazy reds.
She had not had her maman for six months. And she had never felt it. She had gone on as if nothing had happened, as if everything was still the same. It made her ashamed. It made her mad. Terrible things could have happened besides that, and it would take that long to know about them.
"I want Ollie to come home," she said to Giraud.
"I'll see about it," Giraud said.
"Do it!"
"Ollie has a choice too," Giraud said. "Doesn't he? He's your maman's partner. He'll have taken care of your maman's business. He'll have seen that things went right. He's not a servant, sweet, he's a very good manager, and he'll be handling your maman's office and handling her affairs for her. He'd want to do that. But I'll send and ask him what he wants to do."
She swallowed at the lump in her throat. She wished Giraud would go away. She didn't know what she thought yet. She was still putting it together.
She thought of that long walk and everybody in the Hall staring at her. And she had to do that again at Reseune—everybody staring at her, everybody knowing what was going on.
It made her mad. It made her so mad it was hard to think.
But she needed to. She needed to know where people were lying to her.
And who would want to take things from her. And whether that waswhat had happened to maman.
Who are they, where are they, what have they got?
She looked at Giraud when he was not looking, just looked, a long time.
vii
The news played the clip over and over, the solemn, shaken girl in the blue suit, walking with Giraud and Florian and Catlin past the silent lines of newspeople and government workers, just the cameras running, and the quick, grim movement of Security flanking them as they passed through the hall.
Mikhail Corain watched it with his jaw clamped, watched the subsequent clips, some provided by Reseune, of Ari's childhood, of Jane Strassen's career, all interposed with the Court sequences, the interview after, and then back through the whole thing again, with interviews with the Reseune Information Bureau, with Denys Nye, with child psychologists—with solemn music and supered images and reportorial garbage making photo comparisons between the original Ariane standing solemnly at her mother's funeral, and the replicate's decorously pale, shock-stricken face in a still from the clip they played and played and played, dammit.
The whole of Cyteen was wallowing in the best damn theater Reseune could have asked for. That bitch Catherine Lao hardly had to bend any effort to key up the news-services, which had already been covering the Discovery bill—then the bombshell revelation that there was an Emory replicate filing for the right of Succession, no Bok clone, brilliant—then the court appearance, the interview—all points on the Expansionist side; Defense's invocation of the Military Secrets Act against the bill, a little coverage of Centrist objections, a possible gain against the tide—
Then Strassen's death, and the child getting the news, virtually on live cameras—
God, it was a circus.
A freighter docked at Cyteen Station and shot the content of its Fargone-acquired informational packet into the Cyteen data-sorters, the news-packet hit the Cyteen news-comp, the news-comp upgraded its information and scrolled it past the human watcher, and what might have been a passing-interest kind of story, the death of a Reseune administrator who was not even a known name to the average citizen, became the biggest media event since—
Since the murder at Reseune and the Warrick hearing.
The news had to be real: the data-storage of a starship—the whole system that carried news, electronic mail, publications, stockmarket data, financial records and statistics, ballots and civil records—was the entire data-flow of the last station visited, shot out of a starship's Black Box when it came to dock, as the current station's data spooled in. It was the system that kept the markets going and the whole of Union functioning: tampering with a Black Box was physically unlikely and morally unthinkable, and Fargone was six Cyteen months away, so there was no way in hell the information could have been timed for the impact it had—
God, he found himself sorting through every move he had made and every contact with Giraud Nye and Reseune he had had, wondering if there was any remotest chance he had been maneuvered into the Discovery bill at a time when Reseune was ready.
A lifetime of dealing with Emory, that was what made him have thoughts like that.
Like Strassen being murdered. Like the kind of ruthlessness that would use a kid the way they created and used this one—killing off one of their own, who was, God knew, a hundred forty-odd and already on the brink—
What was a life, to people who created and destroyed it as a matter of routine?
It was a question worth following up, quietly, by his own investigatory channels; but by everything he knew of RESEUNESPACE, existing in the same separate station as the Defense Bureau installation at Fargone with absolutely nothing to link them with Fargone Station except a twice-daily shuttle run, it was difficult to get at anything or anyone on the inside.
And the Centrist party could lose, considerably, by making the wrong move right now—by making charges that might not prove out, by going ahead with the bill that had to result in lengthy hearings and a court case involving the little girl who had turned seasoned reporters to emotional jelly and generated such a flood of inquiries the Bureau of Information had set aside special numbers for the case.
That was only the beginning. The ships that undocked from Cyteen Station this week were the start of a wave front that would go clear to Earth before it ran out of audience.
No way in hell to continue with the bill. Anythingthat involved drawn-out procedures could intersect with future events in very unpredictable ways.
While I consider the investigation ultimately necessary in the public interest, it seems inappropriate to proceed at this time.That was the sentence his speechwriters were still hammering out.
He was damned to look bad no matter what he did. He had thought of demanding an investigation into the child's welfare, and raising the issue of Reseune's creating the child precisely to shield those records.
The whole Centrist party suddenly found itself saddled with a serious position problem.
viii
Nelly helped her take the blouse off—it fastened on the bad shoulder, and the sleeve was cut and fastened back together, so it would come on and off over the cast. She had several of the same kind, and she wore things with jackets, that she could wear draped over the shoulder on the right side.
She felt better then. She had to take a shower with a plastic bag taped and sealed around her arm, and when she came out again, Nelly helped her take the tape off and get into her pajamas.
Nelly was upset, Ari could feel it, and she knew she shouldn't let her mad get loose with Nelly, she shouldn't let it get loose with anybody.
"I'm not going to bed yet," she said when Nelly wanted to put her there, and Nelly said:
"You're supposed to."
Which made her want to hit Nelly, or to cry, both of which were stupid. So she said, very patiently: "Nelly, let me alone and go to bed. Right now."
She had been to maman's memorial service today. She had gotten through it and not cried, at least she had not made a scene like Victoria Strassen, who had sniffed and hiccuped and finally Security had walked over and talked to her. She had never met aunt Victoria. She was already mad at her. Maman would have been mad at her, even if she was maman's half sister. Herself, she had sores on the inside of her mouth where she had bitten down to keep from crying, and she didn't mind, that was all right, it was better than aunt Victoria.
I want you to think about going,uncle Denys had said. You don't have to, understand. I'm sure your maman wouldn't mind one way or the other: you know how she felt about formal stuff– She's gone to the sun at Fargone: that's a spacer funeral, and your maman was a spacer before she lived at Reseune. But here in the House we do things a little differently: we go out in the East Garden, where all the memorials are, if the weather's such we can, or somewhere—and your maman's friends will tell a few stories about your maman, that's the way we do. I don't want you to go if it's going to upset you; but I thought you might want to hear those things, and it might help you learn about your maman, who she was when she was young, and all the things she did. If you don't want to, don't go. If you want to go and then change your mind, all you have to do is pull at my sleeve and you and I will just walk out the gate and no one will think anything about it: children don't always go to these things. Not even all the friends do. It just depends on the person, whether they feel they need to, you understand?
Florian and Catlin had not gone. They were too young and they were azi, uncle Denys said, and they didn't understand CIT funerals.
You don't want them to have to take tape for it,uncle Denys had said.
She was terribly, terribly glad it was over. She felt bruised inside the way she was outside, and uncle Denys kept giving her aspirin, and Dr. Ivanov had given her a shot he said would make her feel a little wobbly, but it would help her get through the services.
She wished he hadn't. She had wanted to hear some of it clearer, and it all rolled around in her head and echoed.
It still did, but she put Nelly out the door and told Nelly send Catlin and Florian and go to bed and take the tape Dr. Ivanov wanted her to have.
"Yes," Nelly said, looking miserable.
Ari bit her lip again. She wanted that badly to yell at her. Instead she went and fed her fish, and watched them chase after the food and dodge in and out of the weeds. There were a lot of babies. One of the big ones had had hers. And there was her prettiest male who was in the tank with all the ugly females, to see if the babies would be prettier. Florian could net him out for her and put him back in his regular tank: she was afraid of hurting him with the net, working with her left hand.
Tomorrow. She was not in the mood to do anything with them tonight.
Catlin and Florian came in, still in their uniforms, and looking worried, the way they had been constantly since they found out about maman. They didn't understand half how it felt, she knew that, but they were hurting all the same, because she hurt.
Florian had told her he felt terribly guilty about her arm and then her maman, and asked her if there was anything they could do.
She wished there were. But he couldn't be guilty, he just felt bad: she told him that, and asked him if he needed tape, the way she was supposed to if her azi came to her.
Uncle Denys had told her that.
"No," Florian had said, very quick, very definite. "We don't want to. What if you needed us, and we'd be in hospital? No. We don't want that."
Now:
"I want you to stay here tonight," she said when they came in.
"Yes, sera," Florian said; and: "We'll get our stuff," Catlin said, as if both of them were happy then.
She felt better when they were with her, when no one else was. It was hard to go out where there were people, like going out with no clothes on, like she was made out of glass and people would know everything inside her and find out everything she didn't want everyone to know. But she never felt that way with Florian and Catlin. They were her real friends, and they could sleep in the same room and sit around in just their pajamas together, even if Florian was a boy.
And with the door shut and with just them, she could stop having that knotted-up feeling that made her broken arm ache and made her feel sick at her stomach and tired, so tired of hurting.
"They said a lot of nice things about maman," she said when they had gotten their pallets made in the corner and gotten into their pajamas and settled down on the end of her bed.
A lot of the staff had really been maman's friends. A lot of them were really sorry and really missed her. Aunt Victoria was sorry and scared, when Security came and probably told her to stop crying or asked her to leave; then aunt Victoria had been really, really mad: so aunt Victoria had left the garden right after that, on her own, while Dr. Ivanov was telling how maman had run Wing One.
There were a lot of things she wished she could talk about out loud with Florian and Catlin. But she wasgoing to tell them, that was no problem. It just took longer.
There had been a lot of upset people there, at the services, and it was strange how they Felt different than the reporters. The reporters had been sorry. Reseune was sorry too; but a lot of them Felt mad like her mad, which was maybe because it wasn't fair people had to die at all; but there had been so many different flavors of mad there, so many different flavors of being sorry, not at all like the reporters, but very strong, very complicated, all the way down past what she could pick up on their faces.
Justin and Grant had been there. Grant was one of the only azi.
A lot of grown people had said how maman had been their teacher, and they really loved her.
Dr. Schwartz had said maman and he used to fight a lot so loud that everybody in the halls could hear it, but that was because she never would take second best about anything; and he said whatever she set up at RESEUNESPACE was going to be all right, because that was the way maman always did things.
That made her remember her maman's voice echoing out of the bedroom, right through the walls: Dammit, Ollie—And made her feel warm all over, like maman was yelling at her: Dammit, straighten up, Ari, don't give me any of that nonsense. That doesn't get anywhere with me.
Like maman was back for a second. Like she was there,inside, just then. Or anytime she wanted to think about her. She wasn't at Fargone anymore.
Ollie was. And a lot of the Disappeareds might be.
She had thought on the plane coming home—who in the House just might know a lot of things.
And who she could scare into telling her.
ix
"You're a damn fool," Yanni said, and Justin looked him in the eye and said:
"That's no news. It's all there in the memo. Probably you think I have ulterior motives—which isn't the case. Nothing against John Edwards. Nothing against anyone. I don't even know I'm right. Just—" He shrugged. It was easy to go too far with Yanni, and he had probably gone there, high and wide. Time to stage a retreat, he reckoned. Fast. "I'll go get back to mybusiness," he said. "I'll have the GY project in tomorrow morning."
"Stay put."
He sank back into the chair,under Yanni's scowl.
"You think the kid doesn't have enough stress," Yanni said.
"I don't mean that. You know I don't mean that."
"Son, Administration is just a little wrought up just now. So am I. I appreciate the fact you don't hate the kid, you really think you see something—but you know, we're all tired, we're all frayed around the edges, and I really hope you haven't gone anywhere else with this."
"No. I haven't."
"You know what I think you're doing?"
Not a rhetorical question. Yanni left a long, deathly silence for his answer.
"What, ser?"
"Sounds like your own damn craziness, to me, the same damn sink you come back to like a stone falls down,that's what it sounds like to me. Motivations and reward structures."
"I think I have a point."
"And you put it in writing." Yanni picked up the three-page memo and slid it into a slot at the edge of his desk. A red telltale flashed, and a soft hum meant even the ash had been scrambled. "That's a favor, son. I'm not supposed to wipe documents that bear on the Project. I just broke a regulation. As it happens—there are those of us who think you're right on the mark with this. And I like one of your arguments. . . if you don't mind my borrowing it for the upcoming staff meeting."
"Whatever you like. I'd just as soon you didn't mention the source."
Yanni gave him a long slow look. "Sometimes you worry me."
"I haven't got any ulterior motives. I don't wantmy name on it."
Another long look. "Motivational psych. —You haven't hadthe Rubin data. Just the structures. I told you I'd keep you off real-time. But I'd like you to do something for me, son. A favor. A real favor. I'm going to dump all Rubin's data on you. The whole pile."
"He's, what, two?"
"Not the replicate. The original."
"Why?"
"I'm not going to tell you that."
"What do you want out of it?"
"I'm not going to tell you that either."
"I get the idea."
"All right." Yanni leaned on his elbows, hands locked in front of him. "You run the problem. I'll tell you what I think about it."
"Is this an exercise?"
"I'm not going to tell you that."
"Dammit, Yanni—"
"You're right about the kid. She's smarter than those scores. You leave that in my lap. You take care of your work. I'll take care of the Project. All right?"
x
Uncle Denys took another helping of eggs. Ari picked at hers, mostly just moved them around, because breakfast upset her stomach.
"We could go out to eat tonight," uncle Denys said. "Would you like that?"
"No," she said. "I'm not hungry."
It was her ninth birthday. She just wanted to forget it was her birthday at all. She didn't want to complain about her stomach, because then uncle Denys would call Dr. Ivanov, and that would mean another shot, and her head being all fuzzy.
"Is there anything you dowant?" uncle Denys said.
I want maman,she thought, mad, mad until she felt like she could throw the dishes off the table and break everything.
But she didn't.
"Ari, I know it's a terrible time for you. There's nothing I can do. I wish there were. Is there anything you'd like to do? Is there anything you want that I can get you?"
She thought. There was no good throwing an offer like that away. If you could get something, you got it, and you might be glad later. She had figured that out a long time ago.
"There is something I want for my birthday."
"What's that, dear?"
She looked uncle Denys right in his eyes, her best wishing-look. "Horse."
Uncle Denys took in his breath, real quick. "Ari, sweet, —"
"You asked."
"I'd think a broken arm is enough. No. Absolutely not."
"I want Horse."
"Horse belongs to Reseune, Ari. You can't just ownhim."
"That's what I want, anyway."
"No."
That hurt. She shoved her plate away, and got up from the table.
"Ari, I think a broken arm ought to do, don't you?"
She felt like crying, and when she did that she went to her room. So she went that way.
"Ari," uncle Denys said, "I want to talk with you."
She looked back at him. "I don't feel good. I'm going to bed."
"Come here."
She didn't. She went to her hall and shut the door.
And went and cried like a baby, lying on her bed, till she got mad and threw Poo-thing across the room.
Then she felt like something had broken, because Poo-thing came from maman.
But he wasn't real, anyway.
She heard somebody open the hall door, and then they opened hers. She figured it was uncle Denys, and she turned over and scowled; but it was Catlin and Florian, come to see what was the matter with her.
"Ser Denys wants you," Florian said in a hushed voice.
"Tell him go to hell."
Florian looked distressed. But he would go do that and he would get in a lot of trouble for her, she knew he would.
"Yes, sera."
"No," she said, and wiped her eyes and got up. "I will." She wiped her eyes again and walked past him and Catlin, and went out to the living room.
It was a mistake to walk out on uncle Denys. When she did that, she let him Work her,and now she was having to walk back into the living room he owned and be nice.
Stupid, stupid,she told herself, and unraveled her mad and got a nicer expression on her face when she went to uncle Denys. Denys was in the dining room having his coffee and he pretended not to notice her for a second.
That was Working, too.
"I'm sorry, uncle Denys."
He looked at her then, took a quick sip of coffee, and said: "I did have a surprise planned for you today," he said. "Do you want some more orange juice?"
She moped over to the chair and climbed into it, hugging her cast with her good hand. "Florian and Catlin too," she said.
"Seely," uncle Denys said. And Seely came and got two more glasses and poured orange juice as Florian and Catlin quietly settled down across the table.
"Nelly's in hospital again," uncle Denys said. "Ari, you know it hurts her when you put her out and call somebody else."
"Well, I can't help it. Nelly fusses."
"Nelly doesn't know what to do with you anymore. I think it might be a good idea to let Nelly go work down in the Town, in the nursery. You think about that. But that's for you to decide."
She could not lose maman and Nelly in one week. Even if Nelly drove her crazy. She looked at the table and tried not to think about that.
"You think about it," uncle Denys said. "Nelly's the happiest when she has a baby to take care of. And you're not a baby. So you're making her unhappy—especially when you give her orders. But you just think about it. It's not like you couldn't see Nelly again. Otherwise she's going to have to take tape to re-train her and she'll have to do house management or something."
"What does Nelly want?"
"She wants you to be three years old. But that won't work. So Nelly's got to move or Nelly's got to change."
"Can Nelly have a job down in the baby lab? And live here?"
"Yes, she could do that. It's not really a bad idea." Uncle Denys set his cup down for Seely to pour more coffee, then stirred it. "If that's what you want."
"I wantHorse."
Uncle Denys' brows came together. "Ari, you can't have what'll hurt you."
"Florian says there's a baby."
"Ari, horses are big animals. Nobody knows anything about riding them, not on Cyteen. We have them for research, not to play with."
"You could give me the baby one."
"God," uncle Denys said.
"Florian knows all about horses."
Uncle Denys looked at Florian and Florian went azi, all blank.
"No," uncle Denys said flatly. Then: "Let me talk to AG about it, Ari, all right? I don't know about horses. When you grow a bit, maybe. When you show me you're grown up enough not to sneakdown there and break your neck."
"That's nasty."
"It's true, isn't it? You could have broken your neck. Or your back. Or your head. I don't mind if you do things: you'll fly a plane someday. You'll do a lot of things. But for God's sake,Ari, you don't sneak off and try to fly one of the jets, do you? You have to study. There's no second chance when the ground's coming at you. You have to know what can go wrong and how to deal with it, and you have to be big enough; and if you want to deal with a horse, you'd better be big enough to hold on to it, and you'd better show me you're grown up enough to be smarter than the horse is."
That was nasty too. But it was probably true.
"He surprised you," uncle Denys said, "because you didn't know what you were doing. So I suggest you study about animals. They're not machines. They think. And he thought: there's some fool on my back. And he was bigger and he got rid of her. Figure that one out."
She frowned harder. It sounded too much like what had happened. Only uncle Denys had gotten down to a Maybe about giving her Horse. That was something.
"I needed a saddle and a bridle."
"All right. So how do you make the horse wear it, hmmn? Maybe you'd better do some advance study. Maybe you'd better look some things up in library. Maybe you'd better talk to some people who might know. Anyway, you prove to me you know what you're doing and you prove to me you're responsible. Then we'll see about seeing about it."
That was halfway, anyway. For about two seconds she had forgotten how much she hurt, which threw her off for a moment when it all came back again, and she thought how she had been when maman went away to Fargone, and how she got over that.
It was awful to get over maman dying. But that was starting to happen. She felt it start. Like things were trying to go back the way they were, and uncle Denys was getting short with her and she was going to have to go back to classes and everything was going to be the way it was again.
She felt sad about feeling better, which was stupid.
She wished she could have told maman about Horse.
And then she still wasn't sure if maman had ever gotten her letters at all, no matter what they said, or if Ollie had. Thinking that made her throat swell up and the tears start, and she scrambled down from the table, ran for her hall and shut the door.
Then she stood there by Florian and Catlin's room and cried and pounded her fist on the wall and kicked it, and went in their room and got some tissue to wipe her eyes and blow her nose.
They came in. And just stood there.
"I'm all right," she said. Which probably confused hell out of them, maman would say.
"Ari," she heard uncle Denys calling her from the other room. The door was open. "Ari?"
She had given uncle Denys a hard morning. But that was all right, uncle Denys said; it was like getting well from something, sometimes you had aches and pains, and they got better, eventually. He wasn't mad at her.
"I've talked to AG," uncle Denys said at lunch. "As soon as they can schedule a tank, they're going to do a run for you."
"You mean a horse?"
"Don't talk with your mouth full. Manners."
She swallowed. Fast.
"Here's the work part. You have to go over all the data and write up a report just the way the techs do. You have to do it on comp, and the computer will compare your work against the real techs' input. And where you're wrong you have to find out why and write up a report on it. You have to do that from start to birth and then keep up with all the other stuff and all your other studies. If you want something born, you have to work for it."
That wasa lot of work. "Do I get him, then?"
"Her, actually. We need another female anyway. Two males tend to fight. Some animals are like that. We're going to do another just like the one we have, instead of a new type, so we won't risk losing her. But if you don't keep up the work, you don't get the horse at all, because you won't have earned her. Understood?"
"Yes, ser," she said. Not with her mouth full. Horses grew up fast. She remembered that. Real fast. Like all herd animals. A year, maybe?
"They're real delicate," uncle Denys said. "They're a bitch to manage, frankly, but your predecessor had this notion that it was important for people to have them. Human beings grew up with other lifeforms on the motherworld, she used to say, and those other lifeforms were part of humans learning about non-humans, and learning patience and the value of life. She didn't want people on Cyteen to grow up without that. Her maman Olga was interested in pigs and goats because they were useful and they were tough and adaptable for a new planet. Ari wanted horses because they're a high-strung herd ungulate with a lot of accessible data on their handling: we can learn something from them for some of the other, more exotic preservation projects. But the other important reason, the reason of all reasons for having horses, she said, is that working with them does something to people. They're exciting to something in our own psych-sets,' those are her exact words: 'I don't want humans in the Beyond to grow up without them. Our ancient partners are a part of what's human: horses, cattle, oxen, buffalo, dolphins, whatever. Dogs and cats, except we can't support carnivores yet, or tolerate a predator on Cyteen—yet. Earth's ecology is an interlocking system,' she used to say, 'and maybe humans aren't human without input from their old partners.' She wasn't sure about that. But she tried a lot of things. So it's not surprising you want a horse. Shecertainly did, although she was too old to try riding it—thank God. —Does it bother you for me to talk about her?"
"No." She gave a twitch of her shoulders. "It's just—funny. That's all."
"I imagine it is. But she was a remarkable woman. Are you through? We can walk back now."
xi
Florian did the best he could. He and Catlin both.
He had even asked ser Denys if they were letting sera down somehow, or if there was something they ought to be doing to help her get well, and ser Denys had patted him on the shoulder and said no, they were doing very well, that when a CIT had trouble there were no tapes to help, just people. That if they were strong enough to take the stress of sera's upset without needing sera's help that was the best thing, because that was what CITs would do for her. "But don't let yourselves take damage," ser Denys had said. "That's even worse for sera, if something bad happened to you, too. You protect yourselves as well as her. Understand?"
Florian understood. He told Catlin, because they had agreed he would ask, she just wasn't good with CIT questions.
"We're doing right," he had said to her. "Sera's doing all right. We're doing what we're supposed to be doing. Ser Denys is happy with us."
"I'm not," Catlin said, which summed it up. Catlin was hurting worse than he was, he thought, because Catlin was mad about sera being hurt, and Catlin couldn't figure out who was responsible, or whether people were doing enough to help sera.
They were both relieved when sera had said she had an idea and a job for them to do. And when sera started back to classes and things started getting back to normal, they had classes then, down in the Town, ser Denys said they should and sera agreed. "Meet me after class," she said.
So they did.
And sera walked with them out to the fishpond and fed the fish and said: "We have to wait until a rainy day. That's next Thursday. I looked."
