To Hold Infinity (23 page)

 

The noise hit them.

Outside the concealing smartfilm, the aviary was louder than ever, a cacophony of screeching birds.

Maggie retrieved her video-globe from the ground, and they followed the same grassy trail out to the exit. Yoshiko followed Maggie. Neither of them said a word.

By silent agreement, they avoided the door which led out to the cold night-bound lawns, and took a longer indoor route along empty corridors, until they reached the central hub of the vast cruciform house, where the lights were brighter and the warm chatter of partygoers filled the air.

“I need a drink,” said Yoshiko.

“Me, too.” Maggie let out a breath. “There are times I wish I could rip out my bloody implant.”

“I bet one of those barmen could concoct you something which would have the same effect as ethanol.”

Maggie grimaced. “That's what I'm afraid of.”

They reached the main entrance hall outside the ballroom, and the chaise lounge where they had sat earlier was free, and they sank onto it gratefully.

“Party, party,” murmured Maggie.

“Just what I was thinking.”

After they had recovered their energy, Yoshiko and Maggie went in search of people to talk to. They stood at the doorway, just inside the ballroom, watching a slow but cheerful dance, a kind of waltz in which lateral head movements were required when the music changed key. Each couple was dancing differently, and some of them seemed to be making up steps as they went along.

A tall, broad-shouldered Fulgidus man was standing beside them, and he looked at Maggie and smiled.

“Care to dance?”

“No, thank you…” said Maggie, glancing at Yoshiko.

Yoshiko shrugged, very slightly. The man looked OK, and at least he was polite.

“…On second thoughts, why not?” Maggie grinned at Yoshiko. “See you in a minute.”

“Later.”

The man swept Maggie out into the flow on the dance floor, and soon they were talking and smiling, and Yoshiko let out a happy sigh. She wondered how Vin was doing…Ah, there she was, standing behind the buffet table with Brian, helping him dispense drinks and serve
hors d'oeuvres
.

Very good. Vin wasn't the sort to stand aloof while the person she wanted to be with had a relatively menial task to perform. She and Brian looked cheerful, exchanging glances and occasionally bumping into each other kind-of-accidentally, when they got too busy to talk.

“Yoshiko!”

Lori was waving from the hallway outside. Yoshiko went to join her.

There were people with her. There was Neliptha, tall and black and elegant, the self-effacing mayor of Lucis. There were half a dozen other Luculenti whom Yoshiko had never seen before, and, as Lori made introductions, she noticed some tiny half-gestures and twitches from two or three of them which, Yoshiko knew, meant they were communicating in their own massively parallel holistic fashion, beyond the processing capacity of one unenhanced ageing woman to understand.

Well, let them. She was here, and she would treat them as equals.

“—This is Maj.” Lori indicated a tall blonde woman, who grinned.

“Hello,” said Yoshiko.

“—And Felice Lectinaria.”

Yoshiko bowed to the grey-haired Luculenta, very tanned and lean and graceful, and knew she ought to recognize that name, but could not place it.

The Luculenta's eyes glittered, intent on Yoshiko, but she merely nodded and stepped back.

Yoshiko glanced down at the dull orange glow of the tu-rings on her fingers, wishing her NetAgents could work here, wishing she had their help.

Still, at least she had a public-access terminal round her wrist now, thanks to Xanthia and Maggie.

“—And Prameena.”

A young Luculenta, around Vin's age, gave a kind of half-curtsy.

“Hi,” she said, and her teeth glowed green with swirling gold and pink patterns, and the sudden luminescence ceased when she closed her mouth.

“Hi.” Yoshiko, hiding her own reaction, saw amusement dancing in Lori's eyes. At least Vin wasn't prey to such youthful fads.

“—And this—” Lori pointed to a tall Luculentus with cropped blond hair and striking pale mismatched eyes, one green and one blue. “—is Federico Gisanthro.”

Federico's headgear was a minimal silver construct, unlike the more intricate styles of his peers.

“How do you do.” He shook hands brusquely, taking Yoshiko in with one flickering glance.

“Pleased to meet you.”

He nodded and withdrew, yet Yoshiko felt it was she who had been dismissed.

This was the man she was supposed to impress, whose help she was supposed to enlist.

Her head swam a little, and she paid no attention to the names of the other Luculenti whom Lori introduced. Then everybody began to walk away, and she realized that Lori expected her to go with them.

Yoshiko shook her head slightly and tried to centre herself, to focus on her surroundings. This was not the time to lose it.

“Are you OK?” asked Lori, taking Yoshiko's arm.

“Fine.”

“This way.” Lori led the group into a small drawing room.

They took seats around a low suspensor table.

Yoshiko, quiescent, was content to listen to their conversation. Soon, though, she realized she was following little of what they were saying. Their talk was full of technical and political references which were quite meaningless to her.

Yoshiko took a small silver cup of Terran coffee from the table and sipped from it, withdrawing into herself.

After a while, the Luculenti began to drift into a more normal form of conversation, for them: they grew silent, with momentary expressions flitting across their faces.

“Yoshiko, wasn't it?” Neliptha, the mayor, was talking to her. “Do you have something to do with journalism, like Maggie?”

Yoshiko gathered herself

“I'm—semiretired,” said Yoshiko, saying it for the first time, admitting it to herself. “I mostly teach.”

“That's nice.” Neliptha mustered sincerity with a visible effort.

“So, Neliptha, what's your speech going to be about, at the Skein conference?” asked Federico.

Neliptha turned to him, obviously glad of the interruption.

“Oh, you know, free trade and prosperity for everyone, all that jazz. Makes my brain weary.”

There were polite smiles around the table. They were still ignoring Yoshiko, but at least they were speaking in plain language.

“You dancing in the Sun-Wheel Dance, Federico?” someone asked.

“For Lori's sake, no. Graceful as a walrus, that's me.” Federico grimaced, and everybody laughed.

It was a strange expression to use on a world that had no walruses—or did it? Was there an obscure insult to the Earther among them, or was she just ignorant of their world? Or was it a reference to something in popular culture, such as a well-known comedy?

Concentrate.

“I was thinking—” Lori leaned forward, with mischief twinkling in her eyes. “—of getting Yoshiko to apply for a resident's visa, and go for upraise.”

That effectively killed all conversation, and Yoshiko felt every eye upon her.

“I don't think—” she began, then let her voice trail off.

“You're a teacher, did you say?” asked one of the Luculenti whose name Yoshiko hadn't caught.

She was profoundly aware of Federico's eyes upon her, pale and predatory.

“That's right.”

“Yoshiko teaches young researchers at Sudarasys Lifetech,” said Lori. “Have I got that right, Yoshiko?”

Yoshiko nodded.

Nobody looked very impressed, and Yoshiko wished she were anywhere but here, a pinned specimen open for inspection by interested but uncaring intellects.

The grey-haired Luculenta, Felice Lectinaria, cleared her throat.

“They're a highly respected institution on Earth,” Felice said. “Though not very big, I believe. They discovered the Akazawa resonance effect in ecomodels, a nice trick which I've incorporated into my own work.”

“That's very impressive, Yoshiko,” said Neliptha. “Do you know this Akazawa person, then?”

Yoshiko coughed.

“My maiden name was Akazawa.”

The Luculenti stared at her in silence, Lori with a big triumphant grin on her face.

“When I became Head of Research,” Yoshiko continued, remembering how shocked people had been at someone so young—it was a long time ago—taking over such responsibility, “my primary responsibility became the nurturing of the next generation.”

That was the way labs worked, in Okinawa. What could be more important than bringing on the next generation of Sudarasys researchers?

Perhaps the real next generation, her own offspring, too often took second place to the development of her coworkers.

“So I teach, and act as mentor. That's how we run things.”

And the youngsters call me sensei
, she reflected,
and the labs buzz with energy, and the awards and success keep rolling in. I have my colleagues' respect, but what about my own children's love?

She looked up, and saw that Federico had a faraway gaze in his eyes. She knew, from her experiences with Vin, that he was trawling for info in Skein.

“Good show,” said the nameless Luculentus who had asked her about teaching.

“If Yoshiko wants to apply for upraise,” said Federico, focussing on the room again, “then I will second the application, if Lori proposes her.”

There was a stunned silence, then the Luculenti broke into energetic applause.

Yoshiko found herself blushing furiously.

“Surely, my age—?”

“Makes it more difficult, and longer, though not impossible.” Federico's face was taut with amusement. “But we're not attempting to force your hand.”

Yoshiko swallowed, and nodded.

“Come and talk to me at Peacekeeper Central,” he added. “I'll send a flyer for you, tomorrow.”

Why in person, and why there? She knew, then, that he had worked out why Lori had singled her out for attention: so that Federico would become involved in Tetsuo's case. He had obviously retrieved the details of Tetsuo's disappearance as part of the infosearch keyed to her name.

She had won the help she needed to find her son.

Yoshiko looked at Lori, whose eyes were glistening, and knew that she would never be able to thank her enough, regardless of the outcome of the investigation, whatever might become of Tetsuo.

She nodded wordlessly, and Lori smiled. It was all the communication they needed.

“I don't know about you guys—” Neliptha broke the silence, “—but I feel so happy, I need to dance. You coming, Federico?”

“Only if you promise not to step on my feet.”

“I've danced with you before.” Neliptha grinned. “If I'd known you were going to be here, I'd have worn reinforced boots.”

The gathering broke up, and people drifted out singly or in pairs to the main party, until only Lori and Yoshiko were left.

“Come on.” Lori squeezed Yoshiko's hand. “Let's go party.”

They went out into the crowded corridor.

To Yoshiko, insulated in a bemused daze, the chattering partygoers seemed to drift past like holo images, or a pleasant but confusing dream.

 

Felice Lectinaria, the grey-haired Luculenta, brushed past Yoshiko as they made their way along the corridor.

“We have to talk, Professor.”

“Of course—”

“Later. I'll be seeing you.”

“Right.”

Bemused, Yoshiko watched her disappear into a side room, where a burst of laughter sounded coincidentally as Felice went inside.

 

Gentle flute music accompanied their entrance into the ballroom.

Nobody was dancing right now, but people were scattered around the edges of the great circular room—over a hundred metres across, Yoshiko guessed—and the domed ceiling rising into darkness helped to create a cathedral-like space that was vast and mostly empty. It was granted warmth, though, by the clusters of happy people, over two hundred of them now, chatting and laughing and making fools of themselves.

“Look.” Lori pointed. “There's Vin.”

Yoshiko waved to Vin, who turned to the boy, Brian, and said something in his ear. She put her arm in his, and took him over to meet Yoshiko and Lori.

“Hello.” Yoshiko greeted Brian. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.” Brian looked a little flustered. “Thank you, ma'am.”

“Please call me Yoshiko. And this is Lori, Vin's soul-mother. Lori, this gentleman is Brian Donnelly, a friend of mine.”

Brian flushed a little at that, but kept enough composure to shake Lori's hand and say hello.

“Your soul-mother—” Yoshiko turned to Vin. “—has done me a big favour. Something I can never repay.”

“Oh, please,” said Lori.

“Modest, isn't she?” Vin grinned at Lori, then she hugged her quickly and kissed her cheek.

“
Thanks
,” Yoshiko thought she heard Vin whisper.

“So—” Yoshiko entered the conversational gap which Brian was too shy to fill, “—has anyone seen Xanthia? Neither Maggie nor I have seen her for ages.”

“No, I'm afraid I haven't.” Lori shook her head, as did Vin.

“I wonder if she went to talk to Rafael.” Yoshiko looked around. “She seems to think—”

“Well, Rafael's over there.” Vin pointed him out, inclining her head towards the opposite side of the room.

Rafael was leaning against a curved pillar, dark and elegant and infinitely entrancing, watching everyone and everything with those deep dark eyes of his.

For a moment their glances met, and he smiled slightly—Yoshiko felt her heart give a little fillip, and cardiac arrhythmia sprang to mind for an instant—then he looked away, and she felt a lurch of disappointment.

The music changed to dance rhythm.

People began to drift in towards the centre of the vast room, arranging themselves in straight lines, forming a grid across the fine polished floor.