Rosie turned as Hope entered and gave her a beaming smile. “Ah, my new flatmate!” she said. “How’s your head? We have a magic question.”
Hope listened to the magic question and proposed three different solutions, which they discussed back and forth. When the discussion wound down, she said, “I haven’t had lunch yet. Do you want some? We need to talk about your moving in. I left a note for Briar letting her know. I haven’t seen her reply yet, but I’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”
Dignified, still wearing the gold-bar expression, joined them for lunch, though he didn’t speak at first as they discussed moving Rosie’s clothes to the flat. “That’s really all I need to move,” she said, “and just my new clothes, at that. I’ll get a new suit from Mistress Pintuck at some point. All the old ones, my mother bought. And my books are here already. Oh. I bought those with family money, I suppose I should…”
“That’s all right,” said Dignified. “They’re books.” His tone implied that such sacred objects could not be sullied by the source of their purchase price.
“I’m going to sit down with my brother tomorrow and go through the accounts,” said Rosie, after bestowing another brilliant smile on Dignified. “I’m putting all my personal investments into a trust, and we’ll use it to fund initiatives for peacemaking, restoration of war damage and assistance for people who’ve been harmed by the war.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” said Hope.
“And I’m separating off my salary and license income, of course.”
“It seems you have it all figured out,” said Hope. Curiosity wrestled with reticence, and won. “Ah, can I ask, the two of you…”
“We have had a long colloquy,” said Rosie. “Long and fruitful.” The merest hint of a blush darkened her cheeks. “We will be… working things out as we go, but in essence, um…”
“I love her,” said Dignified. “She loves me. We’re together.” He reached for Rosie’s hand, something Hope had never seen Dignified do with anyone before.
“That’s an effective summary, yes,” said Rosie, and beamed again, the skin around her eyes crinkling.
“Good,” said Hope. “Well then. I shall see you tonight, after work. I’m afraid I need to get home and rest a little. I went to the new Institute this morning and met a lot of people, and it was tiring. Mister Gizmo sends his best wishes,” she added.
“Thank him for us when you see him,” said Rosie.
“I will. By the way, the two of you are doing so well here, I’ve decided to accept the offer that the Master-Mage made me to go and join the Institute staff. I’ll still come and consult whenever you need me, of course.”
“That’s good,” said Rosie, who was playing with Dignified’s fingers. Hope made her escape, reflecting that she wouldn’t bet against Rosie dragging him into the bedroom again once they were alone.
“If she read that book,” she said to Bucket quietly on her way out, “and I suspect she did, I hope she read the chapter on contraception.” His expression of shock set her chuckling, and she rode home in an excellent mood.
Chapter Sixteen: Rosie's Parents Visit
Hope and Patient were enjoying some leisurely kissing when three polite, but firm raps fell on the door. They broke apart and glanced at one another.
“Who could that be?” asked Hope rhetorically, heaving herself to her feet.
She opened the door to find a couple in their fifties, dressed in the height of prosperous, conservative fashion. Touches of grey in their well-cut hair only highlighted their distinguished and serious demeanour. It took her only a moment to reach the obvious conclusion.
“I take it you’re Rosie’s parents,” she said.
“We don’t approve of the byname,” said the woman, “but yes. Is Industry present?”
“No, she’s at work. Do you want the address?”
“She has given it to us, thank you.”
Patient moved up behind her and put a hand on her waist.
“I am Admiration Merchant,” said Rosie’s mother, “and this is my oathmate, Punctual of Rosewall.” It was an obvious hint for an introduction.
“Pleased to meet you,” said Hope. “I am Hope at Merrybourne, and this is my friend Patient Carver. I live here.”
“And Mister Patient does not?” said Admiration in a haughty tone that implied strongly that it wouldn’t surprise her if he did.
“No, he lives in Redbridge. He’s just up for a visit.”
“I see,” said Admiration. “Well, we shall be going.”
“I’ll tell her you called,” said Hope.
“No need,” said Admiration. “We will speak with her at her workplace. Come, Punctual.”
As the couple withdrew in good order, Hope closed the door and raised her eyebrows to Patient, who rolled his eyes.
“Mother is clearly in charge,” he said softly.
“That’s apparent,” agreed Hope. “Poor Rosie. No wonder. Ah, well, she’s done a lot of growing up lately. I’m sure she can handle them. But just to give her the best possible chance…” she stepped to the bedroom and picked up her farspeaker.
“You’re going to warn them?”
“Yes. Both to give them time to prepare mentally, and also to ensure that they’re not locked in a carnal embrace when her parents walk in. Mill?” she said to Bucket’s cousin, who filled in for him on Threeday evenings and Fourdays while Bucket and Briar attended Gnome Advancement League meetings in Gulfport. “How are the lovebirds? Working? Good. Look, Mill, Rosie’s parents were just here, and they’re headed for the lab. Warn her, will you? Good man. Thanks.” She broke the sympathy.
“I hope she’ll be all right,” she said to Patient. “She’s new to independence.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he said. “From what you’ve told me, she may be new to it, but she’s learning fast.”
Rosie panicked for a moment when Mill came to pass on Hope’s warning, then she firmed her prominent jaw.
“It had to come sooner or later,” she muttered, then, louder, “thank you, Mill.”
Dignified was watching her with his usual lack of expression.
“My parents will be here soon,” she said. “I had intended to introduce you at a time of our choosing, not theirs, but it can’t be helped.” She straightened his collar and brushed his hair into place with her fingers. “There. I don’t suppose I need to tell you to let me handle the conversation.”
He shook his head.
Her parents arrived a few minutes later. Forewarned, she had decided to have Mill show them through to the currently empty offices in the manufactory side. She knew what her mother’s opinion of the lab’s chaos would be, but she would appreciate a well-ordered manufactory.
Rosie stood to greet them, encouraging Dignified to do the same with a hand on his arm, and Mill showed them to seats and effaced himself like a well-trained servant.
“Industry,” said her mother.
“Good evening, Mother.” Her voice was entirely level and courteous.
“We need to talk. Should this… gentleman be present?”
“Yes, Mother, he should. Dignified, my mother, Admiration Merchant; my father, Punctual of Rosewall; Mister Dignified Printer.”
“Your employer?”
“Yes, Father. And… more.” She took Dignified’s hand in both of hers and straightened her chin. There was a resonant pause.
“I see,” said Mother. “I trust there is no coercion involved?”
“None,” said Rosie simply.
“And you are preserving the proprieties?” asked Father.
“What,” said Rosie, “you want to know if you should send someone to challenge Dignified to a duel over my honour?”
“Don’t be absurd, Industry,” said her mother.
“Did you convince her to break from her family?” put in Father.
“He did not,” said Rosie. “That was my decision, though I discussed it with him, of course. Dignified himself is a pacifist, and I ha
ve come to share his views.”
“Foolishness,” muttered Father, out of his proper turn.
“So our money is too dirty for you now?” said Mother.
“I wouldn’t put it that way. We’re more comfortable not depending on income which has been gained from weapons of war, that’s all.”
“I see,” said Father. “Well, you’re entitled to your viewpoint, of course, though I think it simplistic. Were you going to discuss any of this with us at any point?”
“Of course, Father. And we’re discussing it now.”
“That woman you’re living with, the servant girl,” said Mother.
“You mean the mage? Probably going to be the youngest senior mage ever appointed? Received the Realmgold’s Honour, Gold, for her services? As did Dignified,” added Rosie. “Is that the lady you’re speaking of?”
“Hope at Merrybourne, she called herself,” said Father. “That’s a servant name.”
“Yes, her family are on the staff of the Countygold of the Western Isles. I believe her father is his estate manager and her mother his secretary. Or possibly the other way about.”
“Well. In any case. Are you aware that she has a young man in your rooms, unchaperoned, to whom she is not oathbound?”
“Yes, Mother, I’m aware. He visits her regularly.”
“And that doesn’t trouble you?”
“Well, Father,” said Rosie, “I don’t really find myself in a position to criticise her for that behaviour.” She let her words resonate in the silence for a heartbeat, then added, “Nor would I in any case. They’re devoted to each other, and he is one of the kindest men in the world. As for me,” she paused, looking from one parent to the other, “I am twenty-seven years old, a legal adult, capable of earning my own living, making my own decisions and living where I wish, with whom I wish. I am sane, not acting under coercion, and have committed no crime. I love my family, and I want to remain close to you all, but please understand that I will find that difficult if the sole topic of conversation is the perceived moral failings of my friends and colleagues.”
“…I see,” said Mother, eventually. “Well, you have certainly been very frank, Industry. Very frank.”
Rosie fought down her impulse to apologise.
“Mister Dignified,” said her father, “I must ask you one thing.”
Dignified blinked and nodded.
“What are your intentions toward my daughter?”
The two heartbeats Rosie spent waiting for that answer were two of the longest in her life. It was like… like when the gnomes had made that casting for her, and they were taking it out of the mould, and until all the sand was off they didn’t know if it was cracked. Only more important, of course.
“I love Rosie,” said Dignified. “I don’t have any family left. I want… I would like her to be my family.”
“You intend to oathbind?” said Mother.
“Yes.”
“Have you asked her yet?” said Father.
“No.”
“The answer will be yes,” said Rosie.
“Well,” said her mother, “this is all rather sudden.”
“To you, Mother, but for me it has been a long time coming.”
“I daresay. Perhaps that tells us that we should speak more often, Industry,” said her mother. “I can’t say I approve of all your choices, but then, if I approved of all of them I suppose they would be my choices, wouldn’t they? It may take me some time to accustom myself to these changes. But whenever you wish to talk, I shall make myself available.”
“I understand, Mother. Thank you.” Taken by a spontaneous impulse, Rosie sprang to her feet, took one step, and awkwardly hugged her mother, still seated in the chair opposite.
“Yes, well,” said Mother, disentangling herself. “We shall have to talk at length, but your place of employment does not seem quite the venue. I imagine you will be going home soon, in any case. Come, Punctual, our daughter has had a long day of work.”
Her father rose obediently and, shooting one last impenetrable look from under his eyebrows at Dignified, accompanied her to the door, where Mill reappeared and let them out.
Everyone, even Dignified, let out a sigh to relieve the tension after they had gone.
“Mill,” said Rosie.
“Yes, Mistress?”
“The Master and I have… matters to discuss.” She slid her hand up Dignified’s chest and tweaked his collar.
“I was just on my way out, Mistress,” said the gnome, seizing his tugboat-shaped hat and a jacket. He let himself out the back door.
“Now,” said Rosie. “Come through here, and let’s begin our… discussion.”
Chapter Seventeen: Another Oathconflict
Hope next saw Rosie when she dropped into the lab to chivvy Dignified about reviewing her article. If she had been home overnight, it had been while Hope was asleep.
“So,” she said, “our chill cabinet is full of food.”
“Is it? Did Patient make it?”
“We made it together. He’s teaching me.”
“Oh, good. I should have you show me, I suppose. I’ve never even been in a kitchen while someone else was cooking, let alone done it myself.”
“I’ll teach you next time we’re both home. It’s surprisingly easy. How is it going on the flight crystals?”
“We’re stuck until I finish the calculating machine, I think. We have lots of measurements, but there are so many calculations that need to be done that they aren’t useful as yet. While I’m stuck on the calculating machine, we’re trying to work out the voting record system, and Dignified is still playing with ideas for recording sound.”
“Do you have a design for the calculating machine?”
“I have three designs. All of them require linkages that are far too complicated to allow for easy manufacture.”
“What have you come up with?”
“Well, there’s this one,” said Rosie, pulling a drawing from under the clutter on a nearby bench. “It just keeps track of how many times you’ve added a number. Tedious and time-consuming to operate, and not very effective. Then there’s this one, which uses the quarter square method of multiplication as a look-up table. All very well and fine, and a human can use it easily, but for a machine it’s unduly complicated. The best candidate, I think, is this third one. It’s also a lookup table, but it works by moving this pair of arms vertically by one number, horizontally by the other number, and then where they cross you see the result.”
“What’s the problem with that one?”
“Once we have the result, how do we transfer it into the rest of the machine and use it to turn the adding wheel the right number of times? That’s what I meant about too many linkages.”
Hope examined the drawing carefully. There was something she’d seen at the Institute… She pulled out her farspeaker, and fished through her card case for Gizmo’s business card.
“Gizmo?” she said, when the devices had connected. “Hope. Do you have a moment? Good. When I was over there the other day, one of your people had something you called glass string. Do you have very much of it? Good. Yes, that will be plenty. If you could, please. And can I also have a copy of the spell which sets off a movement when the light shines on it? Wonderful. Thank you. Yes, to the lab.”
“What are you thinking?” asked Rosie, when she had broken sympathy between the devices.
“Your design gets the arms to cross at a specific square. If we punch holes in that square, corresponding to the number that square represents, and shine a light through the holes, and if on the other side we have some pieces of glass string — it’s one of the new materials they’ve come up with at the Institute, carries light from one place to another — and then at the other end of each string we have a light detector which causes a movement if there’s light and doesn’t if there isn’t…”
“And if we use that movement to move the wheel by one click,” said Rosie, “and then do it again with the next detector un
til we run out of ones that are lit… That’s really clever.”
“If it works.”
While they waited for the package, Rosie went and spoke to Wheel about producing some testing equipment for a proof of concept, and Hope approached Dignified. He was sitting in the middle of several boards, staring from one to another, and she stood where he could notice her but didn’t say anything. After a while, he looked at her.
“Dignified,” she said. “Have you had a chance to review that article of mine?”
“Haven’t looked at it yet. Forgot,” he said, and added, “sorry.”
Hope blinked in surprise. Rosie was obviously having an impact. She had never heard Dignified apologise before, not because he was arrogant, simply because it didn’t occur to him to say things for social reasons.
“Can you look at it today?”
“Now. Not making any progress here.” He stood up, and she reached out a hand, without touching him, to delay him.
“How are things going?” she asked, in a lower voice. “With Rosie, I mean?”
Dignified’s normally hangdog expression softened into a smile. “Rosie is wonderful,” he said.
“Good,” said Hope. “I’m glad to hear it. Glad you’re happy.”
“Happy,” he said. “Yes, I am, aren’t I? That’s what this is called. Happy. Hmm.” He wandered off, still smiling, and she hoped she hadn’t distracted him from his purpose again.
When the package arrived from the Institute, Rosie fetched him from wherever he had got to, towing him by the hand, which gave Hope a small smile. The three of them and Wheel gathered around a workbench and started assembling the test.
They had to figure out how to cut the glass string, and how to attach it firmly so that it sat in a hole drilled in a copper plate. Then Hope inscribed a light sigil on the inside of a light-proof box, and Wheel sealed it to the plate with putty. Hope activated the sigil, and the other end of the string glowed.
“Good,” she said. “Now the hard part.”
Consulting the notes that had been included with the package, she carefully cast a spell which would cause a small movement when light struck another sigil, and Wheel put that, also, in a light-proof box with the glass string leading in and a small spur of copper poking out the back. Hope activated the light, and nothing happened.
Hope and the Patient Man Page 18
