The Best of All Possible Worlds (34 page)

“This isn’t my apartment,” I said indignantly.

“No, indeed. We are in the Consulate,” Dllenahkh replied.

“Now, why did he—?” I frowned, trying to think. “What happened? I thought this was
supposed to end in alcoholic amnesia.” The last two words came out a little garbled.
I pressed my fingers to my face, trying to wake up the numb patches.

“We grew concerned when we did not hear from you, so Naraldi contacted Sayr. After
Sayr briefed us on the situation, Naraldi advised him that alcohol poisoning was not
the best way to approach the problem. I recommended that he bring you here instead
as soon as possible. Just put your arm about my waist. There. Now this way … no … the
other direction …”

This explained the times when Sayr had been muttering grimly to himself. I thought
he’d merely been cursing the sherry under his breath.

“But where are we going?” I asked after a while.

“To Central Government Headquarters. The rest of the team will meet us there.”

“What about the Consul?” I whispered to him as we navigated the corridors. “I’d like
to see him before we go. Thank him.”

“He is occupied in his office, but I believe he would not mind seeing you,” Dllenahkh
replied. “Try to focus. It will dispel some of the alcohol’s effects, and you will
be able to speak more clearly.”

I breathed deeply, brought myself under some control just as Nasiha had taught me,
and steadied my steps. By the time we reached the corridor to the Consul’s office,
I was faking sobriety pretty well. “I’m ready,” I declared.

Dllenahkh smiled slightly. “Take your time. Wait here.”

He went to a door a few meters away and pressed for admittance. The door opened and
stayed open, which is how I got to hear everything.

“Ah, Dllenahkh. We were just talking about you. All is well?”

“Yes, Naraldi. I contacted Emergency Services, and they were able to confirm that
Lian and Joral are both expected to make a full recovery. I am about to depart for
Central Government Headquarters to meet with the other members of the mission team,
but Ms. Delarua expressed a wish to thank you personally before we go. She is waiting
outside.”

Naraldi immediately came to the door, looking out rather than inviting me in. I stood
straight and tried to look professional, discreetly putting my hands—and the bottle—behind
my back.

“Your Excellency,” I said with a very small, very careful bow. “Thank you so much
for all your help.”

He walked toward me, Dllenahkh following close behind. “Ms. Delarua. I am glad to
see that you have proved yourself more than competent in your post. Thank
you
for seeking me out and inspiring me to ask something I would not have thought to
ask. Fortune favors the audacious, apparently.”

Dllenahkh came to stand next to me, radiating such an aura of satisfaction that you’d
have thought the Consul’s words had been intended for him. “Ms. Delarua has long been
an asset to our settlement. Providing insightful solutions to unforeseen problems
is a talent of hers.”

The Consul looked at us steadily, such a look as made me surreptitiously step a little
farther away from Dllenahkh, out of his personal space.

“I see. And this would be why you protect her from mental tampering? To maintain her
talents at their peak?” He slowly
shook his head in mock sorrow, and I realized with a jolt that this was Dllenahkh’s
Lian, the one person who would always notice when the kohl had been applied and be
happy to point it out too.

“I wish you well,” he continued with a smile and nod to each of us, making the pronoun
plural.

We gave him our good wishes in turn, and then, still emboldened by alcohol, I raised
my voice for the silent visitor in the Consul’s office. “Thank you, Sayr!”

There was a pause, and then a voice cautiously sang out, “You’re welcome!”

The Consul regarded me with a mixture of amusement and mild reproach.

“And thank you too, Naraldi,” I repeated softly and far more soberly. “I’m sorry about
what happened to Sadira. You helped save two dear friends today. That means a lot
to me.”

He bowed his head, perhaps in farewell, perhaps to hide the fact that his eyes were
suddenly shining with tears. Then he went back into the office and closed the door.

It was a poignant moment that I spoiled by suddenly smacking my forehead.

“What is it?” asked Dllenahkh in concern.

“I left Fergus’s comm underground,” I exclaimed. I looked down regretfully at the
bottle in my hand. “I hope he’ll accept some honey spirit instead.”

Zero hour plus two years twenty days

The Regular Meeting of the Sadiri Council on Cygnus Beta had recently concluded. Councillors
gathered in the anteroom of the Council Hall, taking refreshment and talking among
themselves. They seemed far more relaxed than usual, and Dllenahkh wondered if the
gravitas and endless debate of the early days of their founding had been mere posturing
to hide a fear of inadequacy. But then again, he thought, relenting, perhaps that
was an uncharitable view. After all, there had been a lot of good news of late: Joral’s
safe return to the settlement, new ties with what were now called the heritage communities,
and an increasing number of betrothals and marriages between Sadiri and taSadiri.
There was much to celebrate.

“Congratulations,” Naraldi said, appearing at his side with cup in hand. “I’m glad
to see that the council knows how to reward success.”

Dllenahkh sipped at his drink and grimaced, a reaction that was only partly due to
the strength of the tart, sweet cordial. “Then why does this reward feel like another
task?”

“Perhaps it is, and if so, you have only to succeed again. Look at you—you could be
an elder in truth. Now it’s only a small homestead on a spare bit of council land;
in the future it becomes an odd name on a map, the ancient town of Dllenahkh, founded
by some obscure civil servant a year or two after the Scattering.”

Dllenahkh opened his mouth to ask if Naraldi had seen such a thing, realized very
quickly that he had absolutely no desire to
find out, and changed his question. “Will you come visit? You can stay as long as
you wish.”

He held Naraldi’s gaze slightly longer than would be required for an innocent query.
Naraldi narrowed his eyes, understanding. “So, you have heard.”

“More than that. I can see the evidence with my own eyes. If it continues, if the
Sadiri Government doesn’t remove you as Consul, there are going to be some awkward
questions asked.”

“We must keep it quiet for now. Perhaps I will simply … bounce back to my age before
my travels, but the doctors cannot tell me what caused it to begin or how long it
will continue. They want me to go to New Sadira to be monitored.” Naraldi sighed deeply.
“It is hard enough being tied to one planet. The debriefing period after my travels
was long and arduous, but I had
some
freedoms. This time I suspect they plan to permanently confine me to a room filled
with sensors and scanners.”

“Don’t let them,” Dllenahkh said abruptly. “You’re still a pilot, aren’t you? Ask
for a ship.”

It was beautiful to see the hope brightening Naraldi’s face. “You think …? And yet,
if old age was their only excuse for retiring me, why not?” He touched his bare scalp
with a smile that was almost shy. “I shall have to let my hair grow again.”

“But discreetly,” Dllenahkh warned teasingly. “Remember, there will be less gray than
before.”

Naraldi looked around, still with that sheepish smile, like a boy expecting to be
caught in a prank. “I will visit,” he proclaimed in a whisper. “When they give me
a ship, I will come to see you in your new domain.”

It was clear from his demeanor that he did not mean a common docking in orbit and
a mundane transit to the surface. “You wouldn’t,” Dllenahkh whispered back, but it
came out sounding
more like a dare than an admonishment. Was this age regression contagious?

“I would, and I will! I have mastered the art of safe, clandestine planetfall. How
else do you think I managed during my travels?”

Dllenahkh was about to answer when a strange sight distracted him. Councillor Haan,
one of the more sedate and self-important members of the council, stood nearby, shoulders
bent and shaking with silent laughter, tears pouring from the corners of his eyes.
Two other councillors beside him were grinning happily, completely unsurprised at
this unusual behavior from their colleague. Dllenahkh stared at them, then glared
at the liquid in his cup. “Fireberry cordial,” he guessed. “Don’t drink any more,
Naraldi, it’s—”

“Dllenahkh, you’ve been away from home for too long. Of course it’s fireberry. It’s
almost a tradition after council meetings these days. They’re better for it, if you
ask me. Oh, don’t look like that. I forget you’re a purist. Here.” Naraldi kindly
and gently removed the cup from Dllenahkh’s hand. “Let me take care of that for you.”

AN IDEAL HUSBAND

“
O
kay, now that
all the unpleasantness is over, I can talk to you about something important,” Gilda
said with hushed excitement.

I narrowed my eyes at her with suspicion, took a sip of my cocktail, and waited.

“So? You. Him. What’s it like?”

She halted me as I began to open my mouth. “And don’t you dare say ‘who?’ or ‘what’s
what like?’ or anything so silly.”

The last reports had been submitted, and the end-of-mission ceremony and reception
were finally taking place with all team members present and accounted for. There had
been a bit of silly media, like those who wanted to turn Lian and Joral’s story into
a romantic holo, but once Lian firmly redeclared as gender-neutral and Joral stated
that they were
“merely colleagues,”
it died down again, leaving the two free to hang out together and assess potential
brides for Joral. There
had
been a bonding experience during that underground adventure, but not the sort the
media was hoping for.

The other bit of media, which I should have anticipated, depicted me as Dllenahkh’s
consort in all but name. Faithful companion,
close colleague, partner in crime—you name it. Not lovers, surprisingly. I suppose,
since we weren’t as young and pretty as Joral and Lian, the media wasn’t interested
in what we got up to in bed. Gilda, on the other hand, was a lot less picky.

“It’s fine,” I said with dignity, and meditatively licked a portion of salt from the
rim of my glass.

“But what do you do? He’s so … 
proper
.”

I gave her an exasperated look. It was no good trying to tell Gilda that
some
people didn’t divulge such intimate details, because
she
always did whether you wanted to hear it or not and expected the same of her friends.
Up till now, I’d been mercifully exempt by virtue of a boring lifestyle. Eventually
I shrugged.

“We hold hands,” I confessed, lowering my voice.

“That’s all?” she said in enormous disappointment.

“Well, it’s more complicated than that. A sort of telepathy thing. Oh, and sometimes
we sleep together.”

I should indulge my vengeful streak more often. I timed it perfectly so that she actually
inhaled her beverage in shock.

“You do
what
?” she hissed as soon as she got her airway clear.

I relented. “Oh, come on, Gilda. Clothes on, adjacent cots, same shelter. That’s all.
He told me I help him sleep.”

It was true. The way the team had been paired up and the fact that Qeturah had her
own shelter meant that I’d usually had a smaller shelter to myself. My dreams had
never completely untangled from Dllenahkh’s thoughts, both waking and dreaming, after
the memory-reset thing, and he found that I was at least as good as an hour’s prior
meditation for stopping the falling nightmare before it got out of hand. He explained
to me that proximity would facilitate the effect and quite calmly asked if he could
come discreetly to my shelter for a few hours’ sleep from time to
time. I casually said yes, and it was literally an hour later that I experienced a
jaw-drop moment, suddenly realizing what I had agreed to.

It didn’t take Gilda that long. She slowly shook her head and looked at me as if seeing
me for the first time. “Man. Still waters.”

Her gaze flickered, focusing behind me, the slightly guilty expression betraying that
it was Dllenahkh approaching. I turned and smiled at him. “Councillor?”

“Ms. Delarua,” he replied, pausing to nod courteously to Gilda. “A moment of your
time, if I may.”

I followed Dllenahkh a few steps away to a clear space, which, as the reception was
well attended, meant stepping onto one of the balcony niches of the reception hall.
Some journalist snagged a holo of us in conversation, standing framed in the niche
with the twilight-colored sky filling the French window behind us. I never even noticed
when she took it, but there’s a copy of that holo on my desk now.