The Summer Queen (90 page)

“It makes a good impression when the force sees us studying
the material as well,” Gundhalinu said, keeping his voice neutral; wondering to
himself a little wearily when the information would actually begin to have any
effect on Vhanu’s attitude.

“But the real point—which PalaThion seems incapable of understanding—is
not that we need to learn the way the Tiamatans live and speak and think. They
need to learn our way of doing things. Until they do, they’ll go on being
dashtanu in fancy clothing, unqualified to be citizens of the Hegemony, and
undeserving of its full privileges. Look at that little yiskat”—slut—“we just
saw. The Queen’s daughter, and she has the manners of a mekru. She ought to be
publicly thrashed; that would make the point more effectively than—”

“Vhanu!” Gundhalinu bit down on his sudden anger, as Vhanu
looked at him in surprise. “The real point, NR,” he murmured, not looking at
his old friend now, “is that both sides need to understand the other’s point of
view. Jerusha PalaThion not only knows that, she’s done it. That’s why I wanted
her to work with you in training the force. If we want more cooperation and
less catcalls from the locals, we have to do it too. You do see the point of it—?”

Vhanu nodded once, stiffly. “But by all my ancestors—” he
said, his voice taking on an edge, “you heard what she told them tonight, after
the meeting: She was sure everyone there could see now why all intelligent
beings deserved equal respect and equal treatment ... but just in case someone
couldn’t, she wanted them to know that anybody who so much as called a native a
Motherlover could pick up their pay and turn in their uniform. She can’t enforce
that.”

“Why not?” Gundhalinu said. “Her new policy has the backing
of my office—and, I hope, yours.”

Vhanu looked at him again, searchingly. He shrugged his
shoulders. “Yes.”

Gundhalinu glanced away at the passing crowd. “If there’s
one thing I’ve learned over the years, NR, it’s that enlightened self-interest
is a more effective motivator toward good than mere understanding of the
situation.”

“I suppose so,” Vhanu said, somewhat glumly. He glanced away
again, as someone shouted drunkenly; a fishhead flung from somewhere down an
alley struck the invisible field of his bodyshield, and dropped at his feet. “Perhaps
she should be encouraged to try the same methods on the natives she knows so
well.”

Gundhalinu stepped over the offal. “How difficult have you
found your interactions with the local constabulary to be?”

“Surprisingly easy, all things considered,” Vhanu admitted. “They
seem glad enough to have our help in dealing with the increased population in
the city. They’re competent and efficient, but they know their limits.”

“PalaThion trained them,” Gundhalinu said. “Give her a
chance to prove what she can do for us. The rules are different than they used
to be, for us, for the natives. If they don’t understand that we exist as a
buffer, to protect them from our own people, then the hostility won’t stop with
catcalls and fishheads; it will keep on escalating.”

“You said that PalaThion was in charge here during the Snow
Queen’s reign, as ‘Commander of the Police.” Vhanu gestured at the city around
him. “Are you telling “me it’s worse with the Summer Queen running things?”

‘ “Different,” Gundhalinu said, shaking his head. They
stepped aside to avoid the f-sudden, almost silent approach of a passenger
tram. “Most of the force were Newhaven f’ese, hard-nosed and pig-headed. They
never did understand. And the Snow Queen had her own reasons for giving us
hell. She did it very well. She actively protected the f< underworld
elements on-planet, because she knew the legitimate government was l/exploiting
her people. We have a chance to prove to the new Queen that it isn’t like that nymore—that
both sides have something to gain from the new relationship.”

“Frankly, BZ, what does Tiamat have of any real value to
offer us, besides the water of life? I haven’t seen anything—”

“A good point, Commander Vhanu,” a Tiamatan voice said behind
them.

Gundhalinu looked back, surprised that anyone, let alone a local,
would intrude on their conversation so casually. He recognized Kirard Set
Wayaways, from the City Council—remembered him from the old days, vaguely, as
one of the Snow Queen’s Winter favorites. He recalled an impression of mocking
superiority whenever Wayaways had looked at him, or at anyone who did not share
Arienrhod’s favor. Wayaways had appeared to be barely older than his own twenty
standards, at their first encounter; although the wardroom gossip had it that
he was closer to sixty. But without the water of life, the years since the
Departure had left their mark on Wayaways. Gundhalinu observed the signs of
aging in the other man’s face with silent satisfaction.

“Are you walking, when you could be using our new public
transportation?” Wayaways gestured at the tram, which was moving past them
again.

“We haven’t far to go,” Gundhalinu said, glancing on down
the Street. “After a long day of sitting in meetings and interfacing a
dataport, I prefer to walk.”

“Good idea. They say exercise is one way to keep young,”
Wayaways remarked, showing a trace of the sardonic smile that Gundhalinu still
remembered with distaste.

“It’s the one 1 prefer.” Gundhalinu began to turn away,
eager to put an end to the conversation.

“Is that why you suddenly chose to get off the tram and join
us?” Vhanu asked Wayaways, with a sharp curiosity that was more professional
than personal. For once Gundhalinu regretted his friend’s unshakable attention
to duty.

“No, actually.” Wayaways took the question as an excuse to
continue with them as they began to walk again; Gundhalinu frowned. “I was just
curious to see two of the top officials of our new Hegemonic government walking
in the Street like anyone else. I was pleasantly surprised to see that you
weren’t in a hovercraft.”

“Then I hope we’ve satisfied your curiosity,” Gundhalinu
said shortly. “Now if you’ll forgive us, Elder Wayaways, we were having a
private conversation—”

“About the water of life.” Wayaways nodded. “Commander Vhanu
was remarking that he didn’t feel our poorly endowed planet had much to offer
the Hegemony, in return for all the benefits you bring to us—except for the water
of life. I think that’s absolutely true. Which is why I felt compelled to
behave so rudely, and intrude on your privacy.”

Vhanu glanced at Wayaways, his initial look of distrust
fading. “Who did you say you were?”

“I didn’t, actually. I believe we’ve met before, but we’ve
never really spoken. I’m Kirard Set Wayaways Winter. I’m one of the Queen’s
advisors.” He held out his hand, palm up; Vhanu touched it briefly with his own
palm. Wayaways looked back at Gundhalinu. “I was very surprised to hear that
you had declared a moratorium on the hunting of mers, under the circumstances,
Justice Gundhalinu. I’d think you’d be eager to start demonstrating to the Hegemony,
as soon as possible, that its return to Tiamat is economically profitable as
well as technologically feasible.”

Gundhalinu looked at him. “I don’t know why you find it surprising,
Wayaways, since I’m doing it at the Queen’s request. A full study is being made
on the question of whether the mers are actually an intelligent race, before
the hunting begins again. As a member of the City Council, I’d think you would
know that.”

Wayaways shrugged. “Certainly we all know about the Queen’s recent
... obsession, for want of a better word, with the mers. Being a Summer, she is
rather more conservative in her beliefs than her predecessor. But we don’t necessarily
all agree about the wisdom of this move ... just as I’m sure your people don’t
all agree about it.” He raised his eyebrows.

Gundhalinu frowned slightly. He wondered how much Wayaways
really knew—if he really knew anything—about the struggle with his own
Judiciate members and chiefs of staff, including Vhanu, to win their support
and gain even that grudging concession from the Central Committee. “There is
also the matter of whether continuing unrestricted slaughter of the mers,
sentient or not, will cause them to become extinct ... and a study needs to be
done concerning the feasibility of synthesizing the water of life ...”He let
his voice run on through all the arguments he had used to sway his own council,
not sure why he felt compelled to justify himself, except that something in Wayaways’
tone put him instinctively on the defensive. He didn’t like the feeling, any
more than he liked the man. “Do you have some personal interest in this matter?”
He took the offensive again. “I seem to remember reviewing your applications.
You were the first to request that your holdings be hunted—”

Wayaways made an unreadable gesture. “Is that against the
law?”

“No,” Gundhalinu said, aware that Vhanu was looking at him
sidelong.

“Then why shouldn’t I put in my application? It’s no more
than what I’ve always done .... Well, of course, you’re too young to remember
that far back ...”He shrugged again. “You were only on Tiamat for ... what?
About five years, before the Change. I seem to remember seeing you at Arienrhod’s
court, along with Commander—Chief Inspector—PalaThion, when she was only an inspector.
In fact, I remember an amusing incident ....” He broke off, as Gundhalinu’s
expression darkened. “But you’ve probably forgotten that encounter with
Starbuck, long since. I remember much more vividly that spectacularly heroic
moment during the final Festival, when young Inspector Gundhalinu burst in on
the mob in the Hall of the Winds, as Arienrhod was trying to have Moon
Dawntreader thrown into the Pit. You single-handedly saved the woman who became
the new Queen.”

“Ye gods,” Vhanu murmured in Sandhi, looking at Gundhalinu
as if he had never seen him before. “Thou never told me about that, BZ.”

“He exaggerates,” Gundhalinu said abruptly, answering in the
same language. “Moon Dawntreader saved herself, Wayaways—” switching back to
Tiamatan, “or don’t you remember how she stopped the wind, when you were in the
hall with the rest of the mob?”

“Yes, I do remember.” Wayaways shook his head. “Incredible.
How does she do that? Did she ever tell you? ... But you’re too modest,
Justice. The mob would have had her anyway, if you hadn’t shown them your
Police badge and faced them down.”

“Father of all my grandfathers,” Vhanu said. “Why would the
Snow Queen want to kill Moon Dawntreader in the first place? Arienrhod surely
couldn’t know that she would become Queen.”

“Well, because Moon was—” Wayaways hesitated, glancing
suddenly at Gundhalinu, his gaze like a spotlight, “a sibyl. You know,
Commander, how stupidly superstitious we used to be about sibyls, before the
Summer Queen enlightened us.” He laughed. Gundhalinu pressed his mouth
together. “But there was more to it, there was Sparks Dawntreader, Moon’s
pledged. The Queen had him for a lover, and Moon wanted him back. Jealousy is
one of the great random factors in history, you know. But I probably don’t need
to tell you gentlemen that, considering the positions you find yourselves in.”
His eyes danced speculatively from Gundhali nu’s face to Vhanu’s, and back. “It’s
no wonder the Queen is so fond of you, Justice. She must have been someone
special to you back then for you to risk your life for her.”

“I was doing my sworn duty as a Police Officer.” Gundhalinu
looked straight ahead, frowning again. “That was all.”

“But you chose to come back to Tiamat, after all this time,
knowing she was Queen. And the way you’ve supported her policies—”

“That has nothing to do with the present.”

“I say, BZ, how did you come to know Moon Dawntreader?”
Vhanu asked. The faintly scandalized fascination still showed in his eyes.

“Really, he never told you—?” Wayaways exclaimed, in mock
surprise.

“It’s a long story, and exceedingly unremarkable,”
Gundhalinu said, his voice grating.

“Not the version I heard,” Wayaways protested. “Something
about techrunners, and nomad thieves up in the interior; that the two of you
were lost together—”

“We’re here.” Gundhalinu stopped abruptly, cutting Wayaways
off. He looked up at the newly installed sign above the ancient doorway, which
marked the reopened Survey Hall. He turned back to Wayaways, meeting the
Tiamatan’s gaze with a stare of cold warning. “Some other time,” he said. He
looked back at Vhanu, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Wayaways nodded and shrugged. “Until then,” he said, gracefully
retreating. “Have a pleasant evening. The Survey Hall must seem like a haven of
peace and respite for strangers like yourselves, far from home.” He raised his
hand in farewell, turning away, disappearing into the crowd even as he spoke
the words. Gundhalinu stared at the Tiamatan’s retreating back; his body
quivered, caught between the urge to go after Wayaways, and the urge to be rid
of him. He looked back at Vhanu, finally.

“A chance remark?” Vhanu murmured. His expression said that
he doubted it.

Gundhalinu shook his head. “No.”

“I thought there were no Tiamatan members of Survey,” Vhanu
said.

“So did I.” Gundhalinu turned back, looking toward the dark,
shadowed rectangle of the building entrance, below the static image that
displayed only a single data figure, the ancient star-and-compass symbol of the
order. He had never seen a Tiamatan face inside this building, when he had
visited the Hall during his previous tour of duty on Tiamat. He had been told
that the locals were excluded from membership, and he had simply accepted it.
But back then he had thought that this was merely a social club. He had not
known then anything of what he knew now ... about the secrets this building
held, even from the majority of its membership; or the secrets within secrets
signified by that symbol above its door. He looked back at the crowd eddying
past along the Street. Wayaways had disappeared.