Quatrain (19 page)

It was ridiculously easy for Kerk to steal balls and make scores, especially when even the opposing players seemed utterly delighted with every move he made. Pretty soon he began passing to his teammates, trying to demonstrate the value of unselfish play, and then he was stopping the game to explain to the other teams what they were doing wrong.

“Defending against a score is just as good as making another point,” he told them. “Quint, you try to knock in a ball while I guard against you. Everybody else watch.”

It was clear that the concept of defense was almost entirely new to them, but they were quick to catch on, especially when Kerk made them run through a few exercises designed to keep the ball from the opponents’ hands. In fact, they were a little
too
enthusiastic; when the third fight broke out, Kerk called a halt to the whole demonstration.

“Enough for today,” he said, untying his borrowed shoes and slipping his own back on. “Practice what I’ve taught you, and you’ll see how much you all improve.”

They clustered around him again, scrawny, smelly, excited boys so socially impoverished they thought
Kerk
was someone to idolize. He could hardly sort out their words as they all questioned him at once.
Will you come back? Hey, did you see me make that final shot? When are you coming here again? Is it a foul if I shove someone in the shoulder? Can you come back? What happens if two balls go out of bounds at once? Are you coming back?

“I’ll be here again in three days,” he said at last.

“Will you play with us again?” Virtually every boy asked some version of that question, all at the same time.

He hesitated only a moment. “I’ll bring my own shoes,” he said.

One of them loosed a victory yell, and then they all dashed back onto the playing floor. The game had resumed with even more ferocity when Kerk finally stepped out the gym door into the hallway.

Jalci was right beside him as they headed outside. The air had cooled considerably as the sun started to sink; Kerk felt an actual chill as the sweat evaporated from his body. He set a pretty good pace just to stay warm, but Jalci kept up easily.

He thought he had a fair measure of her personality by now, so he was surprised when she didn’t immediately begin pestering him with questions and observations. They had walked about five minutes without speaking before he glanced down to see a pensive look on her face.

“Jalciana Candachi does not seem like the kind of woman who spends even such a short stretch of time in silence,” he finally said in formal goldtongue.

“I’m afraid to say anything!” she exclaimed in the indigo language. “Or you’ll try to strangle me, like you did poor Quint!”

He laughed. “He deserved it. And he did not resent it. A boy like Quint needs discipline. The less he gets, the worse he’ll be.”

“I must say, all those boys seemed infinitely improved by even short contact with a grown gulden man for whom they could feel respect.”

This time his laugh was a little bitter. “If they knew more of the world, they might view me in a different light.”

“Will you really play with them when you come back?”

He nodded. “I said I would.”

“Would you come back again after that—and play with them again?”

“If Del has no answer for me in three days, I will return again. And again.”

“Would you come back even if you had already learned everything Del had to share?”

He hesitated.

Jalci pressed on. “You saw how much those boys loved having you among them! You could—you could coach them in baltreck! Just by being around them, you could show them how a gulden man behaves. I don’t think any one of them has ever before been lectured about honor by a guldman. They don’t know how they’re supposed to behave. But if you—”

“I am an ordinary man, with a lower place than most,” he interrupted. “I have no father of my own and little enough I could offer anyone else.”

“And they have nothing,” she said. “They have no one except mothers they are beginning to despise and a community they are dying to leave behind. They don’t know how to behave in the gulden world. You could show them.”

“It feels like it would be lying,” he said, “to hold myself up as a model for anyone.”

“It feels like it would be generous,” she said, “to share yourself even if you have very little.”

That shut him up; that was a very good argument to use with a guldman. They walked another block in silence. The arched gate to the Centrifuge was taking shape ahead of them in the gathering dark.

“I will come back in three days,” he said at last. “After that, I will decide.”

“I’ll come back in three days, too,” she said instantly. He had to admit he was not surprised; he had already pictured her there in the gymnasium, watching and cheering and wondering about him.

Or maybe he was the one wondering about her.

There was only a single ringcar waiting at the gate. “I suppose you’re going to West One?” she said. “We can share the car. I’ll drop you off.”

They said nothing during the short ride until Jalci pulled over to the landing to let Kerk out. When he reached for the door, she put a hand on his arm to hold him in place. Her touch was so warm he thought he could feel the blue of her fingers against his paler skin.

“How can I get in touch with you if I need to?” she said. She must have read the question on his face, for she quickly added, “In case Del finds out something about your mother right away. I’d want to let you know as soon as I can.”

“I work in Brolt Barzhan’s firm near the North Zero gate,” he answered. “You can send a note there.”

She nodded, but she did not drop her hand. Her dark eyes were scanning him, trying to look inside him. He thought he must seem as foreign to her as she did to him—although, after this long day, she was a little less alien. Almost comprehensible. “I’m glad I found you when you came to the Lost City today,” she said softly in goldtongue. “You have given me a great deal to think about, Kerk Socast. I hope that you do not walk out of my life again too soon.”

Goldtongue was really the only language for such delicate sentiments. “For whatever period of time you walk through my life, Jalciana Candachi, I am certain the days will be made colorful and full of music,” he said carefully. “I am already grateful for the textures you have introduced to my days.”

Smiling, she released him. “See you soon,” she said in bluetongue. He had scarcely made it safely out of the car before she took off from the landing, again at a reckless speed. He stood on the stone apron and watched her ringcar until it was out of sight.

That night, after dinner was over and Tess had put the girls to bed, Kerk made his way to his stepmother’s room. Brolt was still in his
hoechter
and Makk was finishing up schoolwork; this was always the best time of day to seek out Tess for a private conversation.

She smiled at Kerk when he knocked at her open door, and gestured for him to sit beside her on the purple sofa that she had imported from Gold Mountain. It had always been her favorite piece of furniture and she had been unwilling to leave it behind.

“Come tell me about your day,” she said as he settled next to her. “My husband tells me you earned a holiday from work. How did you spend it?”

She was relaxed, but he was not. He sat stiffly beside her and folded his hands tightly together. “I might have a tale to tell the lady Tess that I am not yet ready to tell anyone else in the household,” he said.

She nodded, her face instantly sobering to the narrow, thoughtful expression that meant she would give his every word her utmost attention. “Now and then we all have something on our minds that we are not ready to share with the world,” she said. “I can be your confidante.”

So she was willing to keep a secret from Brolt. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. “The lady Tess has been closer to me than a mother,” he said, staring at his hands. “And yet, somewhere in this city is the woman who bore me, twenty-four years ago. I find that my heart is not content to know she is so close and still outside my reach.”

Tess was silent so long that he glanced up at her face, afraid he had hurt or offended her. But what he saw in her expression was compassion—and a certain amount of worry. For him. “A woman who leaves a son behind is not always eager to have him find her,” she said softly. “Prepare your heart for some bruising if it goes on this quest.”

“My heart is already bruised,” he said. “The lady Tess is the one who kept it from actually breaking, but even she could not protect it altogether.”

“And there are those who believe gulden men do not even have hearts,” she said in a soft, teasing voice.

He smiled painfully. “This heart beats with borrowed blood,” he said. “I cannot help but wonder what my mother’s heartbeat sounds like. All this time later, and I think I have forgotten what once I surely knew.”

Tess reached for him, so he unclenched his folded fingers. She took hold of his left hand and laid her left wrist across his, so that their pulses fluttered against each other, a mistimed but pleasing counterpoint. “It is not the same blood, but it flows from me to you nonetheless,” she said quietly. “There are ties stronger than those woven around mother and son. You will not be able to break them, no matter what quest you set out on.”

“I do not want to break them,” he said. “But I must go looking.”

She put her free hand up to touch his face. “If I had lost you, I would want you to come looking for me,” she said. “Bring back to me any news you find. Whatever it is, I will be waiting to hear it.”

“Whatever it is,” he said, “you are the one I will trust to keep it safe.”

Three days later, Kerk was back at the charity bank in the Lost City, making his way to Del’s office through another hostile gauntlet of gulden women. He had not heard from Jalci during these three days, but she was awaiting him in Del’s office, along with the white-haired old woman. Jalci smiled when he stepped in; Del did not.

He nodded at both of them and addressed the guldwoman. “I have come to see if the lady Del has any news for me,” he said.

Del shook her head. “Ria is still making inquiries,” she said. “So far she has found no trace of your mother, but she is still investigating.”

“Should I come back in another three days?” he asked.

Del watched him a moment and then waved him to the empty seat beside Jalci. “You may come back as often as you like, as long as you cause no trouble,” she said, abruptly switching to bluetongue. “But I think it’s best if you prepare yourself for the notion that you might not find what you’re looking for.”

He gazed at her steadily and did not answer. He could feel Jalci’s eyes on his face. Reluctantly, Del continued, “You say your mother came here seventeen years ago, but in fact, all you know for certain is that she left Gold Mountain. She might not have made it all the way to the city. The trip is difficult today for a gulden woman on her own, and it was perilous back then. More than one woman died on the journey.” When he still did not answer, she offered an even more unwelcome possibility. “And even if she made it safely to the city, she might not have survived very long. It is rare now, but gulden men still arrive from Geldricht to seek out their missing wives. Whole families have been slaughtered by angry husbands and fathers. Was your father capable of such violence?”

Unquestionably, yes. And Kerk’s father had often left Geldricht for weeks at a time, pursuing business interests in the city and overseas. If he had killed his errant wife and infant daughter, he had not bothered mentioning it to his son—or his second wife. Kerk was certain Tess would have given him this news if she’d had it.

But it might not be true. There was no proof. Just because Bree Socast had not been found yet did not mean she was dead.

“I have no wish to speculate about my father’s possible actions,” Kerk said, his voice cold to cover his pain. “It would please me if you and your friends would continue to search for my mother. I am not yet ready to concede that she is lost.”

Del nodded slowly. “Then we will keep looking.”

Kerk heard Jalci inhale a deep gust of air, almost as if she had been holding her breath ever since he stepped in the room. “Well, since we don’t have any definitive news, let’s go play baltreck,” she said brightly.

He looked at her, allowing himself to be distracted, allowing himself to be amused. “Yes, let
us
go play,” he said. “I’m sure you have mastered the sport in the short time since I saw you last.”

She laughed. “Well, I watched the game for
hours
on the monitors over the last two nights,” she said. “And I’m a passable athlete, you know—I probably
could
play as well as some of these ghetto kids. If I could figure out the rules.”

“They would not welcome you on the court,” he said.

She made a face at him. “I know that, stupid. I just want to watch. Del, you want to come?”