WARP world (51 page)

Ama reached her fingers to her absent nove, then lowered her hand and faced away from Jarin, feigning interest in one of the likenesses. “There was some trouble.”

“Such as?” he asked. He stepped around to the side and studied her face carefully. “You care for him greatly, obviously.”

“I—” she felt her face grow hot. “I had some trouble with the authorities. Seg got involved.” She turned to Jarin, her face hardened, “You’ve been very kind but I don’t know you, which means I can’t trust you. I don’t know anyone on this world.” She pressed her lips together and swallowed. Just then her stomach growled.

“Your caution does you credit.” Jarin’s face softened, “As does your stoicism.When was your last meal?”

“We’ve been on the run, food’s been thin.”

“Let’s get you something to eat then.” Jarin waved an inviting hand.

Ama followed him, her stomach aching as much with worry as with hunger. They stepped into a small kitchen, or what Ama assumed was a kitchen as it resembled none she had ever seen. A dark haired woman spun to face her, dropping into a low bow.

“Master Svestil,” the woman said, her voice honeyed, “I thought you were gone.”

“Lissil,” he said, offering her a polite bow, “this is Captain Amadahy Kalder. You do not have to call me ‘master’ in front of her. Amadahy, this is Lissil a-Das of the Welf. She was, ah, sent through earlier.”

“A Welf?” the words spilled from Ama’s mouth. “I’m sorry,” she corrected, “it’s just—” She tilted her head, “When did you come here?”

The Welf’s eyes passed over Ama’s body, appraising. Where most people walked, Lissil seemed to glide, which she did to Ama’s side and, just as gracefully, slipped her hand into Ama’s, fingers interlocking as she pulled her close.

“You are of the seafarers?” Lissil asked.

“I’m Kenda,” Ama answered, stiffening, “if that’s what you mean.” She had met this breed of Welf before, in the Port House, well schooled in seduction and trickery. She darted a glance to Jarin, who appeared as uncomfortable as she felt.

“Yes, I could tell,” Lissil said, squeezing Ama’s hand. “Did Lord Eraranat send you through as well? The household will need servants.”

“Servant? I’m not a servant.” The word sat in Ama’s mouth like rotten Jinje fruit. “Did he send you here to be his servant?” Ama asked Lissil, then flashed an accusing glare at Jarin. “Is she Seg’s slave?”

“Yes,” Jarin answered, after a pause, “she is. Registered to his name and awaiting final transaction from his share of the raid profits.”

“Caj,” Lissil corrected Ama. “Their word is ‘caj’, not slave. So you belong to him as well?” Her voice arched as she released Ama’s hand.

“I don’t
belong
to anyone,” Ama said.

Seg had a slave. A Welf. He had never even mentioned the girl. Ama looked at the dish of food sitting on the counter—foreign by appearance but inviting by smell—and frowned. “I’ve lost my appetite,” she muttered, and backed out of the room, unable to move her eyes from Lissil.

I put my father’s life in the hands of a liar.

Behind her, Jarin murmured something to Lissil. Moments later, he followed Ama into the main chamber.

“I realize this is all traumatic for you,” he began.

“Send me home,” Ama interrupted. She stabbed a hand in the direction of the outside world. “Take me back to the machine. Now!”

“I told you that is not possible.”

“Fine, I’ll go myself. I’ll make them send me back.” Ama charged toward the door.

“They will kill you,” Jarin said, his tone level. Ama stopped inches from the exit. “My People will kill you, or worse, much worse, if you try to leave.”

Her chest rose and fell as if she were summoning courage, but her body remained in place.

“Segkel will come for you.”

“He didn’t tell me about this Welf slave,” she said, her voice choked. “How can I trust him now?”

“He does not give his word lightly. For that matter, he does not give his word at all unless he is ready to fight for it. To the death, I believe.”

She flipped around and pounded her back and fists against the door with a frustrated cry.

“Amadahy…” Jarin stood in front of her reaching out a hand from a safe distance, “I do not know of all that has passed between you two, but I need to know. For him, for you, and apparently for your father.”

The edges of Ama’s her jaw tensed. “Get him here. I can’t say any more.”

“Oh, I will bring him here,” Jarin assured her. “He has a great many questions to answer.”

S
eg pressed the chime on the door to Jarin’s residence, a modest unit in the C Block of the Guild compound. Given his mentor’s success and talent, he often wondered why he chose such a small existence. Every corner of the world, but for the wealthiest and most powerful of its citizens, was crowded, as the Storm ate away at the remaining habitable land. While Jarin lacked the resources of Senior CWA members or the prominent Houses, he could easily afford a detached living space, or at least a larger unit within the A block.

The door slid open. “Segkel,” Jarin said, with the slightest of nods.

“Mentor,” Seg answered. “I’m not here for dinner, though your invitation was gracious. I’ll speak with Ama, then I must return to my office.”

“The meal is prepared and you know well the First Virtue of a Citizen: Allow no waste. Unless you would prefer I create a charitable institution for those incapable of providing their own sustenance.”

“I’m in no mood for games, Jarin. I have pressing matters to attend to. House Haffset has insisted—”

“You have pressing matters here,” Jarin stepped aside; Ama stood in the entryway.

He stepped inside at the sight of her and the worry carved on her features. Worry and something else.

“Ama, I would have come earlier but…” His attention was drawn away as another woman appeared behind Ama. The woman was obviously caj by her dress and demeanor; had his mentor changed his views since he had been gone?

Before he had time to ask, the strange woman squealed, “Master!” and threw herself to the floor in front of him. She knelt prostrate, her forehead pressed to the floor, fists against her head knuckle-first near her temples. A picture-perfect rendering of the
retyel
, the posture of obeisance offered by a caj to its owner. He stared at the strange, crazy woman with a questioning look that he then passed between Jarin and Ama.

Then realization. He had completely forgotten about the Welf he had sent back over. Things had taken on a whole new tone over on Ama’s world after the night they had killed Uval, and it was as if the entire episode had come in a before and after chapter.

“Oh,” he said, staring blankly.

He knew what was expected of him, the formal words of release. There were protocols for owners, as well as caj. But he found himself muttering, “Get up. That’s enough.”

The girl hesitated and there was a strained moment, as Seg felt Ama and Jarin’s eyes on him. Then, at last, she rose.

“I await your pleasure, Master.” The words dripped from her tongue like nectar.

He had barely looked at the Welf the day she had been taken, had never noticed that her lips seemed to pout and smile at once. She reminded him of the whore who had drugged him with her painted lips; the resemblance, down to the pinched waist and ample hips, was uncanny.

“There’s no need for all the…” Seg’s hands fluttered to indicate the retyel and general protocol. “If we’re to eat, let’s be quick about it.” he said, then to the girl: “Join us for the meal.”

“You do this caj great honor, my Lord.” Her cheeks dimpled as she smiled.

“When do we leave?” Ama asked, her voice icy.

“There is work to be done before the raid goes through,” Seg said, turning quickly from the Welf.

“The raid?” Ama stepped up closer to him, eyes boring holes through his. “I have to get back now. You said—”

“I said I would get you back,” Seg’s voice dropped until it was nearly a whisper. “And I will.”

Ama launched into a diatribe in her native tongue. Seg could pick out only a few words–father, promise, death, lie, slave–though her agitation and unhappiness required no translation.

Jarin placed himself between Seg and Ama, raising his hands for silence. “As I said, dinner awaits. We have much to talk about, so let us all proceed to the table where we may discuss the raid.” After a brief pause he added, “And what came before.”

Seg’s head whipped back toward Ama. She had told Jarin about his alliance with her people. Obviously.

Head bowed, the Welf girl led the group to the small dining area. She dished out generous helpings of food to Seg and Jarin, then paused, regarding Ama. The question of Ama’s position was written on her face.

“Everyone is to be served,” Jarin said.

“Yes, of course,” Seg added, a touch of irritation at edge of his words. Did the old man think he would make the Welf kneel on the floor? “What is your name?” he asked her.

“This caj is known as Lissil, my Lord,” she answered, a rosy blush rising to her cheeks as she retrieved two plates and dished out much smaller portions for Ama and herself.

“I wonder what they’re serving in the Secat this evening,” Ama asked, eyes on Seg.

He clenched his fork and glanced sidelong at Jarin. “Don’t,” he warned her.

“Enough of this,” Jarin said. “There are matters which concern us all here. Segkel, this raid of yours is perilously close to the precipice.”

“My raid is assigned, it is in the process of being tabulated and tasked. Once the Council votes, it will proceed,” Seg said, then added quickly, “and it will succeed.”

“The CWA is directly involving itself with the process,” Jarin said, “and if they detect any breaches of protocol and orthodoxy, they can make matters very difficult for you. To the point of potentially aborting the raid.”

“I’ve met them already. A representative.” He straightened up to look Jarin in the eye. “I dealt with her.”

Jarin paused, his fork before his lips. “With your usual diplomacy and grace, I am sure.”

Seg bristled visibly. “I accorded her the respect she was due.”

“This is not training, pupil,” Jarin said. “You cannot expect to simply awe People with your brilliance and prove your theorem correct. There are ramifications to your actions that extend throughout the World.”

Seg slammed his fist on the table, making the plates jump. “I know this raid will affect the World. That is the point. Do you support it or not?”

Jarin lowered his fork. “More than you know, Segkel. But you need to at least appear to be working within the boundaries of orthodoxy. The People need conformity and respect of the traditions and virtues.”

“But they worship results, and I will give them results. Is there anything else?” He glared a dark challenge at Jarin.

“No,” Jarin said, at length. “But we need to discuss the planning and interactions further. You can expect the Question for this raid to be thorough.”

“Then I’ll answer to that,” Seg said.

“I am certain of your confidence in the process but will you answer to me now?” Jarin placed both palms on the table and leaned in toward Seg, “What occurred on your extrans, after your comm to me, and beyond the sanitized report you turned in?”

Seg pressed his lips together and drew a breath in through his nose; his eyes darted to Ama then back to Jarin. He rose to his feet, threw his fork on his plate, then nodded curtly. “Thank you for the meal, teacher.”

“Segkel!” Jarin called to Seg’s back as he stormed out of the room.

Ama kicked out her chair and ran after him. “Hey!” she yelled, both her fists clenched. “We’re not finished yet.” He was already outside the residence and, heedless of Jarin’s warnings, she followed him.

Seg spun on his heels, reached past Ama, and cycled the door closed to give them some modicum of privacy.

“You have a slave? A Welf?” Ama spat the words at him.

“There is more to the situation than you are aware of. I’ve had no time to explain anything to you. If you’ll—”

“And now you say I can’t return until the raid? You know what’s going to happen. Brin’s people will tell him I didn’t show, he’ll think we’re dead. He’ll send his men into the Secat and they’ll die. His men will die because of me. Again. And who knows what Dagga will do to my father. You need to get me through that gate, you need….”

“Stop. For once, stop talking and listen!” he placed his hands on Ama’s shoulders and gripped tightly. “We can’t change what has happened. I brought you here to save your life, I would do the same again no matter the consequences on your world. I am moving the raid planning forward as fast as possible and when my People extrans I will bring you with me. We will free your father.”

Ama held his gaze for a moment before she glanced over her shoulder to the door, behind which the scene with Lissil had unfolded. “Is that what will be expected of Brin’s men? To grovel at your feet like animals?”

“I see that I haven’t earned one particle of trust from you,” he said and dropped his hands from her shoulders. “This is a complicated world.”

“Which I didn’t ask to come to!”

They both turned silent but the argument continued in their eyes.