Victory Conditions (3 page)

“I’m not sure if my husband will make it,” Sera Louarri said; her voice was tense, as if expecting Stella to complain. “He sent me a message; something at work had come up—”

“I quite understand,” Stella said. “Should we wait, in case—?”

“A few minutes only, if you don’t mind,” Sera Louarri said. She sat upright on the edge of her chair. “He said if he was not here in ten minutes he would not be coming, but—”

“You have a charming daughter,” Stella said, hoping to put her more at ease.

“I hope she hasn’t been too forward,” Sera Louarri said. “She’s…she’s vivacious sometimes, she speaks out. Her father—” She gulped. “Her father indulges her.”

Stella wondered if the woman was ill, or if meeting her daughter’s boyfriend’s guardian was really such a strain. “Not at all forward,” she said. “Very polite, I would think by the standards of your world as well as mine.”

“Would you tell me something of your—and I assume Toby’s—world?”

“I grew up onplanet,” Stella said. “The main family house was in the country, though my father’s business took him to the city much of the time—” She noticed that Sera Louarri’s face relaxed. Was it the country, or the city? “Slotter Key has four main continents and a lot of good-sized islands. The family as a whole has tik plantations on several subtropical islands, but we lived in a temperate zone—stone fruits in our orchards, lovely in the spring. My cousin Ky—you have heard of her, I know—lived on one of the tropical islands, with reefs just offshore on the east side. We visited each other often.”

“You could grow Old Earth stone fruits in quantity?”

“Oh, yes. Exported the fruit and nursery stock offworld—for some reason, the result of terraforming there worked for all the rose-family plants, and our family lands had varied terrain so we could grow just about all of them. The first time I went outsystem, I was amazed to find that not all planets could grow them, even after terraforming.”

“You must have traveled a lot,” Sera Louarri said, sounding wistful. “And so young. Did your family approve?”

Surely she had heard…Stella explained, as if no one could be expected to have done research. The family business, the habit of sending young people out to sample the universe.

“I also grew up onplanet,” Sera Louarri said. “My family has—had—timberland. We export hardwoods, you know. The native vegetation, not Terran.”

“But for food?”

“Oh, farmland’s terraformed, of course. But not the forests; the native trees have incredible wood. My family were Firsters.” She seemed more relaxed now, more confident. “We had a grant that covered all the ground from the coast to the inland range, for a thousand kilometers.”

“We called them Chartered,” Stella said, smiling. “The first colonists on Slotter Key. Vatta’s Chartered.”

“You are?” Sera Louarri peered at her a moment. “But that’s the same—?”

“If I understand Firsters. Your family goes back to the colony foundation, and you were investors, right?”

“Right.” Now Sera Louarri sat back a little, and her smile widened. “And your nephew, he grew up the same?”

“Not exactly. His parents live in another system, running a branch operation. I’m not really familiar with his home world.”

“My husband’s business also operates in multiple systems,” Sera Louarri said. “But you—you’re not married?”

“No,” Stella said.

“And your family does not mind? They do not press you for an alliance with another?”

“My family,” Stella said, carefully controlling her tone, “is mostly dead. But my father wanted me to have experience, he said, before I married. If I married.”

“Zori is too young to marry.”

Stella just managed not to laugh. “So is Toby, of course. But young people—they will form attachments.”

Sera Louarri’s gaze wandered away and back. “I think my husband is not coming, and we should go in to lunch.”

Cascadian custom prohibited business discussion at most meals—certainly in a place like The Glade—and Stella wondered if the follies of youth were considered business. Through the appetizer, Sera Louarri said nothing of the youngsters, commenting only on the food.

With the next course, she made a few comments about Zori’s upbringing, the importance of their traditional religious rites. “And your family?” she said.

“We are not of the same faith as you,” Stella said. “But if I understand correctly, yours originated from the Modulan, did it not?”

Sera Louarri nodded. “Our beliefs are also descended from Modulans. So…you are opposed to unnecessary conflict? Our emphasis on courtesy and serenity does not seem excessive to you?”

“Not at all,” Stella said.

Not until dessert came did Sera Louarri bring up the matter at hand. “I shouldn’t be eating this,” she said first, taking a small mouthful of berry pie. “My husband—and I do not wish to become plump, you understand.”

Stella, already halfway through her own pie, thought Sera Louarri was already overthin. Did her husband like her that way? And what, in Cascadian custom, was the polite response?

Sera Louarri did not wait for a response. “I am reassured by what you tell me of your family, and having met you, by you yourself. It did bother us that you were only Toby’s guardian, not his mother. I understand the events that made that necessary. And I apologize for being influenced by the unfortunate revelations in that legal matter.”

A tactful way of saying that Stella was a notorious criminal’s bastard. Stella admired the woman’s euphemistic skirting of brutal fact. “It certainly came as a surprise to me,” she said.

“Of course. And your adoptive family was, both from what you say and by the evidence of your own behavior, what we could hope for in one of Zori’s companions. I hope you do not find our concern too offensive.”

“Not at all,” Stella said. “Your daughter is a lovely girl, and any responsible parent would be concerned.” Should she add that she was equally concerned that Zori be suitable for Toby? Probably not; it might be construed as an insufficiently veiled insult.

“We would very much like to have Toby visit us at home,” Sera Louarri said. “When my husband is there, perhaps for lunch? Not a school day, of course.”

“I’m sure he would be delighted,” Stella said. Sera Louarri suggested the next nonschool day, and Stella accepted on Toby’s behalf. She returned to the office refreshed; though there were monsters loose in the universe, boys and girls still fell in love, and parents and guardians still schemed to keep them safe.

CHAPTER

TWO

T
oby picked up slang as easily as any other information, and Zori Louarri, out of class, had a colorful collection of words that sounded like nothing else. “Bistim gai,” she said, nudging him with an elbow and glancing at a schoolmate neither of them much liked. Bortan asked questions just to delay the class.

“Prot,” Toby said. It was like a secret language, Zori’s slang, a way around Cascadia’s fussy formality. And so far no one had complained about it. Everyone had been on edge anyway, with more to worry about than adolescents using slang that might—if understood—be rude.

“E-prot,” she said, grinning. It was rude, very rude indeed, but it was also funny. Toby grinned back. She switched to normal language. “My parents will be pleased to meet you, I’m sure. I know Mother has been—” She paused, clearly thinking how to say it; they both knew that her mother and Toby’s aunt had locked horns with the utmost courtesy and determination. “—less than understanding of your family’s position back home. Now that the Slotter Key ansible is back up—”

“They’ll find out the family was nearly destroyed. That should definitely help.” Toby felt worse the closer they got to Zori’s parents. They lived in Cascadia Station’s most exclusive neighborhood, The Cone, with live trees along both sides of the pedestrian-only street. Cone Park, outside the gates, was the station’s largest, and held a small grove of pines. If Zori’s parents wouldn’t listen to Stella, why would they listen to a boy under legal age? He felt much older than his official age, but he knew that did not matter. He was Stella’s ward, and too young to plead his own case.

“Something helped, or they wouldn’t have invited you to meet them,” Zori said. She glanced back over her shoulder. “Your cousin is still mistrustful, I see.”

Toby could think of nothing polite to say. Stella had told him, over and over, why he must have security along on this social occasion. Clearly she did not trust either Station Security or Zori’s parents, and that was a form of insult. But he was her ward; he had to do what she said.

Zori patted his arm. “Don’t worry—I’m not upset with you. After what happened with your family, I can understand her feelings. But really—we’re in the safest area of the station. You don’t need your guards there, I promise.”

“I know,” Toby said. “I know that, but—she didn’t just tell me; she told them. And they listen to her.” He cleared his throat. “How angry will your parents be?”

“Kafadit,” Zori said. “Tiagri banta zo. But she’ll have told them, I’m sure, and they’ll be upset with her, not you.”

They were near the security gate now. Toby felt the prickle of sweat under his arms. “Kzuret,” he said softly. “Zurinfar kzuret tsim.”

She blushed. “Kzuret adin,” she said. “But we had better not say that around my parents.”

“I wish you knew what language it was,” Toby said, as she punched in the code. “What root, anyway…”

“Commercial code, my father says,” Zori said, as the gate slid aside and she led him through. “Don’t you Vattas have something similar?”

“Yes, but it’s based on one of the Slotter Key languages, extinct now. Tam-something.”

A yell from behind made him turn around. The gate had shut before his security could get through.

“What happened?” Toby said.

Zori scowled. “Your cousin must not have told my father that you were bringing them. The gate was set for only the two of us. Well, that’s one way of getting rid of them—”

“I can’t,” Toby said. The two men were glaring at him through the gate. “Stella would—” He moderated his first thought, shaping it to Cascadian terms. “—be most upset.”

Zori gave him a challenging look. “My parents were most upset about you, remember? And I faced them down. Are you that—” He could see the effort she made to frame it in courteous terms and then she shifted to their slang. “—that protvin?”

That stung. “It’s not a matter of courage,” he started; her brows went up, the expression on her face all scorn and utterly beautiful at once. Toby felt his heart turn over.
Kzuret adin,
she’d said. She loved him. He still didn’t know why she loved him, but cowardice certainly wasn’t the reason. He could still feel her warm breath on his ear when she’d said it; he could still smell her fragrance. “I have to explain to them,” he said. “That’s only polite.” She nodded, her face relaxing now.

Toby walked the few steps back to the gate. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But apparently Stella didn’t tell Zori’s father that I would have an escort. The gate’s set for only two, and Zori doesn’t have the right to let anyone else in. When I get to her place, I’ll ask her parents to let you in, but really—you can see, you know, it’s The Cone. Nothing bad happens here. I’ll be fine.”

“You should come out. You know that. Your cousin told you—”

Toby shrugged. “She wants me safe; I understand that. But I’m perfectly safe here. It’s The Cone, after all.”

“It’s our job; we’re supposed to be with you at all times—” And they had been, and he and Zori had not been able to do anything without those watchful and—he feared—amused adult gazes on them.

“I’m not coming out,” Toby said. “I’m just going to meet Zori’s parents, and it would be rude to be late. You can explain to Stella.”

“We certainly will,” said the elder.

A few minutes later, in the elegant salon of Zori’s place, Toby returned the polite bow of the older man—Zori’s father—whose perfectly tailored suit and polished shoes seemed impregnable as a suit of armor.

“And this is my wife, Zori’s mother,” he said, gesturing to a dark-haired woman in a gown of pale green. She had not risen from her chair. Like all the others in the room, it had thin curved legs and a narrow seat upholstered in stripes of green and cream.

Toby bowed again, this time more deeply as appropriate for a young man to an older woman. His voice broke on the formal phrase of greeting; he could feel the blood rushing to his face.

“It is our pleasure to welcome our daughter’s school friend,” Zori’s mother said. Something in her voice reduced him to the level of grubby schoolboy, the age to have sweets stuck to his pocket linings. He was more than a school friend, he wanted to say, but he knew he could not.

“Toby’s very bright, Mother,” Zori said, breaking the awkward silence.

“So you have told us, Zori,” her father said. He glanced briefly at Toby, a glance like a knife blade. “It is the first time you have not headed the class, so he must be…remarkable.”

“Do sit down,” her mother said. “We have a little time until the meal is served.”

Zori perched on the chair nearest her mother; Toby, following her glance, took one two seats away, across from her father, who now sat next to his wife.

“I understand,” her mother said now, “that your family has had a great tragedy.”

“Yes, sera,” Toby said. He forced himself to speak calmly. “We were attacked, across many systems. I am fortunate to be alive.”

“You yourself were attacked? A boy so young?”

“Yes, sera. If not for my cousin Stella, whom you’ve met—”

“I have not met her,” Zori’s father put in. “I have spoken with her, only.”

“Spoken with,” Toby said, wondering at the vehemence of that correction. “If not for her, I would be dead. She saved my life.”

“And now you honor her,” Zori’s mother said. “How very appropriate.” Her fingers twitched, pleating the fabric of her skirt. “I understand your family had extensive holdings on several planets—especially on Slotter Key. That you were in fact among the founding families there.”

“Yes, sera,” Toby said. He knew Stella must have told them this; why were they asking him?

“We value land, you see, not just wealth, as a sign of a family’s…stability. Land stays; people wander. Those who have no roots in the land are…rootless. Do you not think that is so?”

“I suppose…” He had never thought of it that way; the Vatta family owned land, yes, and some of the family farmed or ranched, but the point was always trade and profit—selling the produce of the land, transporting it to market.

“Tell me, Toby,” her father said. “Did you grow up on a planet or in space?”

“On a planet,” Toby said. “My grandmother always said children need to get mud between their toes…” A quick glance passed between Zori’s parents.

“How…quaint,” Zori’s mother said. “You did not wear shoes, then?”

“Not at the beach,” Toby said. “Or at the lake.” He had forgotten that Cascadians did not approve of bare feet…of course not, onstation, but what about onplanet? Did they not swim in their lakes and rivers and oceans?

“Ah.” She smiled at him, and for a moment he saw in her face the similarity to Zori, until now concealed by age and dress and formality. Zori had her eyes, her cheekbones, but her father’s chin. “Your culture’s customs are less formal than ours, I believe?”

“Yes, sera,” Toby said. He dared not say more; he’d put his foot in it already.

“Still, lands…” She glanced at her husband. “Formal or informal, there is more difference between landed families and those rootless, than between formal and informal.”

Zori’s father stirred, on his chair; it squeaked a little. Then he stood. “There is still time before our meal, Zorais,” he said. “I will show your friend my collection of Cascadian curiosities. Come, Toby.”

Zori flashed him a grin as he stood and followed her father out of the salon. Her father’s office was almost as large, paneled in dark wood carved to represent vines with leaves and fruit, tree branches, even animals and birds. Translucent panels gave light that varied from green to gold, creating a forest-floor ambience. Pin-lights picked out some of the carvings, intensifying the illusion.

Two big display cases flanked the room, their contents carefully illuminated: shells, feathers, mineral specimens, tree cones.

“These are all from our estates downplanet,” Zori’s father said. “As you are planet-born, I thought you might like to see—I understand you have not been downplanet here yet?”

“No, ser,” Toby said. “Not here.”

“You know that we Cascadians revere trees—our family has over ten thousand hectares of primary forest, never terraformed, and five thousand terraformed, at Riverrunning, our primary home. The river provides fish, shellfish…see here…” He put an arm around Toby’s shoulder and urged him toward one of the displays. Toby felt the strength in the man’s arm, but it was not hostile…just vaguely uncomfortable.

The shells looked like shells from the lake at home; Toby said so.

“Yes. To our surprise—but I am not an ecologist, you understand—the native aquatic species build shells of calcium carbonate, and those shells are similar in shape to those of Old Earth organisms, I’ve been told. Here’s something different.”

Something different had had an exoskeleton with long, intricately branched spines. It was a little longer than Toby’s hand.

“That was from your river?”

“No—that was a gift that’s come down through the family. I don’t know where it’s from, but I find it beautiful. The spines are still toxic, however long ago the creature died.”

Zori’s father had moved his arm to gesture; Toby eased away to look more closely at the display.

“I’m sure you’re wondering,” the man said, “when I will remind you that Zori is my beloved daughter, and demand that your attentions be honorable. And in fact, I had planned to have that conversation. But I can see, from your demeanor, that you are an honorable young man, and that you care for her very much. I see no need to threaten you—”

“No, ser…” Toby began, but her father raised a finger for silence.

“I would merely remind you that you are both young, and it is too soon to make binding agreements. You love her, you think—and perhaps you do. She loves you, she thinks—and perhaps she does. But many young people are in love with the idea of love, and cannot yet distinguish that from the true and lasting affection that leads to a secure relationship. I believe I can trust you—” His gaze sharpened. “—not to do anything foolish. Can I not?”

“Yes, ser,” Toby said, hating the blush that he could feel heating his face. “I will not do anything…like that.”

“Zori has always been headstrong,” her father said, looking away. “Like me, perhaps. Her mother is…more biddable.” In that was something that chilled, though Toby did not know what. “You will need to be the man, Toby. Do not let her have her way, when it comes to…foolishness. Do you understand me?”