“I wasn’t captured by the Narthani. I woke up in a—” Heather cut off the words before she blurted out details about the white room in the alien spacecraft.
“I woke up on a beach, naked, confused.”
The words came softly, slowly, then accelerated. Soon, it was as if a dam had been breached. Her words gushed, with brief pauses only long enough for her to quickly refill her lungs.
Maera looked out the rear door windows. She couldn’t see the other women, but Anarynd and Gwyned had been gone for almost two hours. Maera took it as a good sign. The midday meal was ready, so it was time to find them. She was halfway across the patio when she heard laughter somewhere in the garden and then saw moving heads appear above bushes.
“Good timing,” said Gwyned. “I assume you’re coming to tell us mid-day meal is ready. I already knew that. My stomach’s been reminding me the last few minutes.”
“Reminding?” said Anarynd. “Maera probably heard it from inside the house.”
Heather put a hand to her mouth and choked with laughter.
“Well, come on in. The older children are already fed, but we can feed the babies and eat at the same time.”
And so it was that the four women ate, three of them also breastfeeding. Elian and Wanda took the babies back to the nursery once they were satisfied. Anarynd ate her meal more slowly because she had mobilized both breasts simultaneously.
Freed of the children and with their clothing rearranged, they finished the meal while talking.
“Heather, tomorrow I want to introduce you to Pernell Horton. He’s originally from Abersford, where Yozef first lived on Caedellium. Pernell was a clerk in the new Bank of Abersford that Yozef established, but he gradually got more involved in music over the last years. Shortly after we moved to Caernford in Keelan Province, Pernell moved there, too. But now he’s in Orosz City. I invited him to visit to help put on what Yozef calls an opera. Pernel created it using a combination of traditional Caedelli songs and those either he wrote or that Yozef told him about. It’s called The Abby’s Deliverance. I think you’ll like to meet him. He’s becoming a well-known person throughout Caedellium for both the opera and other music. The two of you should have a lot to talk about.”
Maera took Heather’s expression and body language to mean that the suggestion was well received. The next morning, she walked with Heather to where Pernel was rehearsing with an orchestra and singers. It was hard to tell which of the two was more excited. The introduction was hardly completed before Heather and Pernell were off on music and ignoring Maera.
Three nights later at evening meal, Maera asked how the music was going. Everyone had noticed Heather spending entire days in Orosz City.
“Pernell is really quite good,” said Heather. “He may lack the background in music theory I know from . . . er . . . Amerika, but he’s picked it up as fast as I can explain what I know.”
Her face morphed from pleasure at praising Pernel to a frown. “I don’t like how that other man . . . Lantin, Lontin, or something like that . . . treats Pernel. He’s supposed to be in charge of the cathedral’s music, but he doesn’t have any talent for it, and he’s obnoxious. A real ignoranus.”
Only Yozef and Maera noticed Heather’s stumble and flush before she continued her enthused description of once again working on music. Later, everyone was separating for the night when Maera gave Heather a message.
“An invitation to visit Rhaedri Brison!?” Pernel exclaimed the next morning when Heather arrived at the rehearsal hall. “What an honor! When will you go?”
“I don’t know that I am going. There’s no reason to visit someone I’ve never met.”
“What do you mean, not go! Nobody turns down an invitation from Rhaedri Brison. Even the Paramount would not consider refusing.”
Heather sighed and listened for half an hour while Pernel educated her on Septarshes and the status of Brison in Caedelli society.
Two days later, an amused and contemplative Rhaedri Brison watched the small Amerikan woman climb into a carriage. He had the distinct impression she would have run from his cottage to the carriage if no one had been watching. It had been an interesting two hours—for him, if not for her. She had been clearly nervous at first, so he had spent time being charming—something he was aware of being skilled at, but he rarely used it to manipulate people. This was such a time. As much as he respected Yozef Kolsko and appreciated what the man meant for Caedellium, Brison never doubted his belief in hidden facets of Yozef’s existence. Over the years, he had gently probed the mysteries, but whatever Yozef knew that others didn’t, remained unknown. Brison had even looked to Maera for clues, hopefully without her awareness, before he decided she knew no more than he did.
The second Amerikan, Mark Kaldwel, had proved as impenetrable as Yozef. However, some of his answers to questions were so similar in wording to Yozef’s that Brison was sure there was a degree of coordination. Heather was different. The hesitant answers and facial expressions might as well have been preceded by her holding up a small sign saying, “Please wait until I remember what I’m supposed to say.” By the end of the visit, she was trending to agitation, so Brison turned the charm back on.
Brison smiled as the carriage disappeared around a bend. She was secretive, awkward in her unease, and he liked her—a lot. Brison, to his chagrin at times, thought of himself as a shrewd judge of character. His sensors failed to register malicious intent in Heather. He would talk with her again. Maybe at the cathedral complex where she was spending so much of her time involved in music.
I’m anxious to hear it for myself, thought Brison. Over time, she may get more relaxed around me, and I could coax more information to dribble out of her.
He was amused at his tiny sense of guilt at the last thought.
Mark
“How is Maghen adjusting to life in Orosz City?” asked Yozef. They were headed to a meeting with a team of craftsmen to discuss ideas for starting the mechanization of farms using horse-drawn reapers.
“She usually says everything is fine,” said Mark, “but I think she’s still a little lost in knowing exactly what her role is here. I mean, of course, she has Alys and me, but in Frangel, she had extended family not far away, her work at the ranch, the people . . . you know . . . a place. Oh . . . she’s busy enough with us, helping out around the Kolsko and Puvey households and with all the children. I appreciate Maera introducing her to different parts of Orosz City society, but she still feels awkward around Maera and isn’t used to being seen as I guess what we would have called ‘upper-crust.’”
“Well,” said Yozef, “it seems everyone likes her, and she certainly is a ‘pitch-in’ person. It doesn’t sound like she lacks for things to do. She’s just become dissatisfied with what she’s doing.”
“I think you’re right, especially as she connects more with people. She badly misses her family. She told me it just really hit her after we got to Caedellium and started to feel safe. Even if she didn’t see them regularly in Frangel, they were there and could be reached with a short trip. Not like here, where we figure she’ll never see them again.”
“It seems to be different with Heather,” said Yozef. “Oh, I’m sure she will always miss her family and Earth, but she appears to have jumped into interacting with people around the cathedral complex, especially with the community of musicians.”
Yozef smiled. “And I see she finally realized Carnigan is not some ogre. They seem to have developed something of a friendship. I think it gelled when he understood why she sometimes called him Hagrid.”
Mark had to laugh. “I caught that a couple of times. Did she try to explain Harry Potter?”
“I confess I was an agent provocateur, or whatever it’s called,” said Yozef. “He asked me where Hagrid comes from. I told him it was the name of an imaginary character who appeared big and rough but was kind and loved children. I told him to start calling Heather Hermione. Whatever happened after that, within a week they were friends.”
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“Hah! That reminds me,” laughed Mark. “Did Maera or Anarynd tell you about ignoranus?”
“About what?”
“Heather was describing the man who is some kind of music director at St. Wyan’s. Sounds like he feels as if he’s being pushed aside by Heather and some local she’s working with. Anyway, she was describing this director whoever and called him an ignoranus. She explained to me it comes from a Washington Post newspaper column with quizzes and contests. In one example, readers were to send in entries where they took a word, changed one letter, and gave it a new definition. One time the winner started with ignoramus, changed the ‘m’ to ‘n’ and got ignoranus, someone who is both stupid and an asshole.”
“Wow!” Yozef exclaimed between laughs. “That’s one I wish I could use in the Snarling Graeko, but I’m afraid the Caedelli words don’t work.”
“Talk to Heather about that contest,” said Mark. “She remembers a bunch more of the winning words. Speaking of Heather . . . I’m glad she’s finding a place for herself, but we should keep her in the loop at least occasionally and maybe during brainstorming sessions. She might not have our science and engineering backgrounds, but she’s sharp and can come up with ideas from Earth that you and I don’t think of. I told you I wanted to develop better hand calculating devices than the Fuomi have. Oh . . . they’re good enough for some uses, but they’re more limited than I’d like. Supposedly, there are some early mechanical calculators in Fuomon, but they didn’t bring any with them. It wouldn’t hurt if you could ask the Fuomi whether they could send some to us. In the meantime, we’ll use what’s available, plus I’m working with craftsmen to produce versions of slide rules for at least the most needed functions, except for addition and subtraction. Precision is a problem, but for the short term, I figure we can simply make the slide rules as big as necessary. There should be a four-foot metal version finished within the month.
“Anyway, Heather suggested the abacus. Evidently, she had relatives with small businesses who used it for routine adding and subtraction.” Mark shrugged. “Maybe it’s a cultural thing why they didn’t just use calculators. She knows how to use it and is teaching a couple of people who seem to have a knack for it.”
Mark laughed. “It’s going to be quite a menagerie when we get going more, with people using half a dozen different devices for calculations.”
“Here we are,” said Yozef as they reached what looked like a large blacksmith shop with six men waiting. “I’ll introduce you and give the crew the directive that you’re in charge as far as design, but I recommend you leave the details to them to make things work.”
It was a strategy they were using to spread Mark’s expertise as wide as possible without his constant presence being required. Efficient for any one project it was not, but they had to compromise.
Mark had already visited several projects, first with an introduction by Yozef, and then visits on his own where he talked with workers and made suggestions to the people in charge. Mark’s new status was being formalized as Yozef informed project crews that the new Amerikan would either be solely in charge or share the role with the existing supervisor—depending on the project and the capability of existing staff. For the telegraph project, Mark thought the current manager had done everything reasonably possible, given the limits of Yozef’s information. The man was left in charge of day-to-day operations, with Mark giving advice, going over diagrams he created, and participating in tests.
The steam engine project with Fuomi engineers required visits to Adris City, whose distance provided an excuse for why Mark couldn't be present full time. Once Yozef was convinced Mark knew what he was doing, they finalized their decision. After the initial development took place in Orosz City in a new section of shops being built west of Orosz City and the administrative complex, they would eventually locate a Caedelli-only steam engine project test site elsewhere on Caedellium
CHAPTER 19
WHAT’S FUOMON UP TO?
Fuomon Embassy
The Fuomi embassy was so new, the aroma of freshly worked wood permeated the air. Fortunately, most humans thought the odors pleasing. Yozef said it reminded him of cedar, a tree of his origin.
Eina Saisannin checked a wall-mounted clock in the ambassador’s residence wall. She had a meeting scheduled in an hour, but mid-day meal with her family was almost over.
“As soon as I finish, I’ll need to get to the island headquarters.”
“Meeting with Yozef or Maera?” asked her husband, Paavo, as he mopped his plate with a section of bread. Sons Steegum and Huron were into their second helpings, engaged in a familiar argument, and, as usual, ignored their parents unless directly addressed.
“Neither. The university section leaders’ sixday meeting is this afternoon. Maera can’t attend and asked me to lead the session, in addition to giving a report on the Medical/Biology Department and the plans to eventually separate medicine and biology.”
“Has Yozef managed to get Diera Beynom to surrender and move to Orosz City to lead Medicine?”
Eina pushed her plate away and leaned back. “No word, yet, but Maera thinks it will happen. She says Yozef has hesitated to make it a ‘Paramount’ call to duty, but he will if he has to.”
An “OOF” sounded from Huron to Eina’s right. She knew the cause.
“All right, Steegum, that’s enough. Don’t think your father and I don’t know when you’ve kicked your brother. You can help Marleen clean up after we’re finished eating.”
The Saisannin son’s smirk faded. “But I’ll be late getting back to the cathedral for afternoon lessons,” he complained.
“Nonsense,” said Paavo, “if you hurry here and then run fast, you might just make it.”
Steegum stuffed his mouth with the remainder of the meal, jumped to his feet, and quickly began gathering empty dishes.
Eina caught her younger son trying to hide a smirk.
“And I’ll assume you did something to provoke your brother, so you can help him.”
“But he runs faster than me!”
“That’s the fate of children who—”
Eina was cut short by the dining room door being opened by Marleen, the Caedelli woman working in the Saisannin residence.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Sen Saisannin, but a Fuomi naval officer just arrived and says he needs to speak with you.”
Both adult Saisannins raised an eyebrow, Eina her left, Paavo his right.
“Thank you, Marleen. Tell him I’ll be right there.”
“Go ahead, Eina,” said Paavo. “I’ll shepherd our sons and get them off.”
She patted him on the shoulder as she passed, heading for the stairs from the second-story residence to the ground floor where the embassy offices were located.
She found the officer standing in the foyer. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place from where.
“Sorry, but I forget your name.”
“We only met once, briefly, at a dinner Admiral Mermi hosted in Adris City. I’m Second-in-Command Yoshkia of the sloop Mollar. We were on patrol southeast of Caedellium when we came on a Fuomi squadron freshly arriving from home.”
“A squadron, you say? How many ships and of what kind?”
“I don’t know the exact number—they were spread out when we encountered their forward scout sloops. However, when I left Adris City, I counted at least two war-galleons, five frigates, and several sloops. Other classes that I assume were supply ships anchored farther offshore.”
“War-galleons? I had no idea Fuomon would send those. I’m assuming they ran the Throat?”
“That’s what the scout ship’s captain said. They hugged the Ganolar coast, came around the west of Landolin, and only had one serious engagement—just off the Sulakoan coast. A group of Narthani ships engaged them briefly, but there weren’t enough Narthani to stop them.”
Eina started to ask another question, but the officer stopped her with a raised hand. “I can answer more questions about
what I know, but I’m ordered here to give you an important message. The ships carried a new ambassador to Caedellium. His name is Irvod Koskanin, and he's accompanied by a large staff. He will be staying in Adris City for at least a few days, and I'm to deliver this document to you.”
Yoshkia reached into a pouch hanging from one shoulder and pulled out an ornate leather cylinder. He handed it to Eina.
“There is no request for a return message. However, I can wait if you wish to send one.”
“Come with me,” said Eina. “We can find you a place to relax while I see what’s inside and decide if there’s something for you to return with.”
A Change in Attitude?
Maera found Yozef in the map room in the building used as the headquarters during the war. Although decision making had shifted to the new island headquarters building where Yozef had his office, the old building housed staff whose eventual workspace was not ready. Even then, one feature of the structure would remain. On the second floor, a large room called “The Pit” contained two thirty-foot-wide platform maps of Caedellium elevated three feet from the floor. One map was topological and filled with details of the island’s human and natural features. The second map was in relief. During the war, women with croupier-like rakes moved figurines to show Caedelli and Narthani unit positions. That purpose was gone, but Yozef saw no reason to move either map. He found them useful when discussing specific issues or when he wanted solitary moments to think on topics the maps helped facilitate.
As he leaned over the relief map’s northern coast, Maera came up to him. He was worrying about provinces that had not yet benefited from any new developments.
“Here you are,” said Maera. “Kloona suspected I’d find you here.” She didn’t wait for him to acknowledge her presence and rushed on, her voice tense. “There’s some surprising and potentially disturbing news from Eina. A squadron of Fuomi ships arrived in Adris City and brought a new ambassador to replace her.”
A Dubious Peace Page 26
