Scouts Progress

by Sharon Lee

  The heavy ring sparkled in the dim light as Ran Eld twisted it brutally free. Earned it, had she?

  He let her hand fall and slammed the lid home.

  "The Code of Proper Conduct," he typed into the program queue. "Volume One, Number One, Page One, Word One. Continue sequentially until timer disengages function."

  "Accepted," the sleep learner signaled. "Touch the blue button to initiate the learning session."

  Ran Eld touched the blue button.

  "Shouldn't—we—have put her in the 'doc, first?" Voni asked uncertainly. "Her face was—was swollen, brother, and—and raw, where she—"

  "Mere bruises," he said airily. "There will be time to tend them when she's schooled. Besides, I have need of the 'doc."

  Voni gulped and inclined her head. "Of course."

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The Learning Module is intended for use as a supplement to conventional learning. It is not intended to replace conventional learning, nor should it be utilized in this manner.

  The best use of the Learning Module is in review of old material, in order to sharpen details in the Learner's mind. The Module also has value in laying baseline information, upon which the Learner will then build.

  IMPORTANT INFORMATION: The Learning Module utilizes intense, direct-brain stimulation to impart pre-programmed information. Direct-brain stimulation is painful, even dangerous, to some individuals. Always run a compatibility test before logging into a full Learning session.

  In no case should a Learner undertake more than one six-hour session of moderate intensity within one twenty-eight-hour period. Cerebral vesication may result from overuse of a Learning Module.

  —From the manual for

  Learning Module No. X5783

  "DAAV."

  He started, wine splashing in his glass, and guiltily looked up.

  "Your pardon, denubia. I—fear my thoughts were elsewhere."

  "As they have been," Er Thom said, with some asperity. "Perhaps I am inconvenient. I can easily go and come again, after you have rested."

  "No, there, don't take a pet—There's a good-natured, biddable fellow!"

  Only Daav knew the effort it cost Er Thom to keep the smile from his lips and continue to stare sternly.

  "Well, and what am I to think, when I have your person, but neither your eyes nor your thoughts?" His face softened. "What troubles you, brother?"

  Daav glanced down, put the glass away and looked back to his brother's eyes.

  "Well, if you will have it, Aelliana Caylon desired me to partner with her, when she is ready to forsake Liad forever. And I was tempted, brother. Indeed, I was only now striving to recall why it was I denied her—I should say, denied myself."

  "Hah." Er Thom set his glass aside. "I had thought you Pilot Caylon's co-pilot and comrade. Do you tell me your feeling goes more deeply than that?"

  "Well," he moved his shoulders, still unwilling to meet his brother's eye, "we both know me for a volatile brute. Likely I should have grown bored in a relumma or two and wished for the comforts of home."

  There was a small silence, before Er Thom said dryly, "Very likely."

  Daav looked up, extended a rueful hand. "Now, darling, don't, I beg, tell me to stand away! You know I cannot do so, without ruining Korval."

  "But I was not going to tell you any such thing," Er Thom said softly. "I only wondered why you had not at least spoken to Pilot Caylon before settling upon the tel'Izak."

  Daav closed his eyes. "Because she was not then a pilot," he said, imposing calm upon his voice. "The first parameter in a spousal search is pilot, as you well know. She had never even been tested." He opened his eyes and reached for his glass.

  "The initial winnowing gained us the names of several promising thirteen-year-olds—yet Aelliana Caylon had never been tested!" He took a hard breath and made an effort to soften his voice.

  "Had Vin Sin chel'Mara been less a fool, she would be untested at this hour. Fortune smiled, brother, that she held a problem to which the ship provided a solution—could she but achieve Jump pilot."

  "And has she?" Er Thom wondered.

  Daav moved his shoulders. "This afternoon, should she have the inclination." He smiled wryly into his brother's skeptical face. "Never bet against the Caylon."

  "I will remember," Er Thom said. Then, very gently indeed, "Shall you stand away from the tel'Izak, Daav?"

  He shook his head wearily. "For what gain? Aelliana is for Outspace, as soon as she finds her courage. She sees me as partner, darling, not husband. Indeed, she speaks of the married state in the most—abhorrent—terms possible. Her own mating was too early and—ill-made, as I hear it." He sipped his wine, and added, quietly. "Damn them for clumsy fools."

  "Ah," Er Thom said, and said nothing else.

  Daav sat with his legs thrust out before him, apparently studying the tips of his boots, now and then sipping wine. Abruptly, he straightened, put his glass aside and looked up, black eyes bright.

  "I love you, brother."

  Er Thom blinked, for this was a thing little said between them. As well say, "We breathe the air, brother." Still—

  "I love you, Daav."

  "Yes, with all my faults! I shall strive not to shame you." He smiled, wanly, but with good intent, and pointed at the sheaf of papers Er Thom had brought with him.

  "Let us assay your difficulty again, eh? I promise to give you my eyes and my thoughts."

  "Fair enough," Er Thom replied and picked up the first.

  ". . .THREE HUNDRED AND fifty-eighth edition of the Code of Proper Conduct, published under the aegis of the League for the Purity of the Language, Kareen yos'Phelium, Clan Korval, editor and chair.

  "The first edition of the Code of Proper Conduct was compiled during the Exodus by a committee made up in equal part of the Solcintran Houses, the dramliz, and the pilots. Transcribed in the margins of expired trade manifests, the document ran approximately 85 pages and was little more than a protocol for shipboard life.

  "The second edition, circulated twelve years after planetfall. . ."

  Sleep learning is a peculiar undertaking. Neither asleep nor awake, one drifts in and out of phase, sometimes "hearing" the instruction; other times upheld by a wave of image, emotion and language; still other times, simply—elsewhere.

  There are periods of lucidness within this shifting trance. One can, for greater or lesser periods of time, think, independent of the program. One can take stock, analyze—react.

  So it was that Aelliana drifted out of elsewhere and into a discourse on the history of the Code. She was aware, also, of pain, but it was a thin sensation, all but lost in the thunder of instruction.

  Learning Module, she thought, eyes open against the blackness within the unit. But, why am I Learning the preface to the Code?

  She moved her right hand along the wall of the unit—and found the hole where the end-session toggle should have been.

  Ran Eld, she thought, experiencing a rather unnerving desire to laugh. Does he think being Code-wise will make me less insistent upon seeing the delm?

  Any desire to laugh faded, then, as memory provided the instant; the feel of her hand cracking across her brother's face.

  Oh, gods.

  Ran Eld had put her in the Learning Module and taken away the deadman switch. He meant her stay until he let her out. And he meant her to have Learned proper respect by the time she was allowed to emerge.

  Or he meant her to be dead.

  People could die of brain-burn. There had been a student—not, mercifully, one of hers—who had tried to use a Learning Module to cram for a critical test. Six hours in the Module, the needle set at maximum intensity. . .

  The thought jellied and slid away, lost in momentary thunder: ". . .newly-formed Council of Clans. . ."

  Aelliana went—elsewhere.

  ONE'S DELM WAS not amused.

  "You are plagued by ill dreams," she repeated. "And the Healers are unable to succor you."

  Samiv bowed
. "In essence, ma'am. The Master at the Solcintra Hall had nothing better than the cure given by the Healer on Luda Soldare: look upon the face of that which frightens me and make—a peace." She drew a careful breath, aware that Bindan had very little tolerance for weakness even when an alliance with Korval Itself was not at risk.

  "The Healers inform me, ma'am, that this is an old, ungentle cure, but efficacious."

  "I see." Bindan's frown had not eased. "One is unaccustomed to counting you timid, and so naturally the question arises: what has birthed this enormous fear? Korval? I did not hide from you that he is odd. His entire clan is thus and has been, clear back to Pilot Cantra.

  "Korval's melant'i is impeccable—they have sworn to insure your health and comfort and to return you safely to your kin at contract's end. If it is himself. . ." She lifted a shoulder. "I grant he is no beauty, but I had always thought you too intelligent to let a pretty face matter more than honor and obedience to your delm."

  "It is not," Samiv said, trying to think clearly through the haze of weariness, "that one wishes to cry off the marriage. Only that one desires the delm's permission to—to call upon Korval beforehand, that the cure may begin with all speed."

  Bindan moved a hand in negation. "In three days' time, you shall be his wife. Enough time to roust your terrors after the contract is in force."

  She had expected nothing else, yet she was so very tired, more than half-ill with fatigue. . .

  "If the delm pleases. Korval had said he—wished to stand my friend. I do not think he would hold it a miss-throw, did I take the matter to him and. . ."

  Bindan's palm hit her desk with a sound like a whip crack. She surged to her feet and Samiv effaced herself, bowing low, but it was too late to redeem the error.

  "You dare! Upon what date was tel'Izak given into Korval's care? I remind you that tel'Izak belongs to Clan Bindan and that Bindan solves for you!"

  "Yes, ma'am," Samiv murmured, head bent to her knees. "Forgive me."

  There was silence. Samiv held the bow a heartbeat longer, then straightened, slowly, head pounding. Her delm sighed.

  "You are tired," she said. "Go to your room and rest."

  Rest. Samiv folded her lips firmly over a wild desire to laugh.

  Rather, she bowed respect for the delm, "Ma'am" and retired, as ordered, to her room.

  DAAV ATE SPARINGLY of a meal composed chiefly of gall and wormwood, accompanied by fine vintage vinegar.

  At the conclusion of this solitary feast, he rose and rang for Mr. pel'Kana, and instructed that august person that he was not at home to callers.

  He then retired to his private apartment abovestairs, where he fussed about for some little time, pretending to put things in order, before finally sitting down at his work table.

  Lovingly, he fingered over bits of wood and odd pieces of ivory, choosing at last a rough round of bronwood. Carving would reveal soft black and bronze swirls that would show well, so he thought, against her hair. It would also emit a subtle scent that he was certain must please her.

  She might wear it, when she went Outworld.

  He held the wood in his hand, feeling the weight and the shape of it, considering how best to carve the comb he saw so clearly in his mind's eye. He pulled a paper pad forward, picked up a pen and sketched quickly. Laying the wood aside the sketch, he felt a stir of pleasure.

  "Yes," he said, and reached for the roughing blade.

  He had been some time at this project when a muted chime sounded. Glancing up, he saw it was his private line thus demanding his attention.

  He lay the wood and knife aside, his heart inexplicably beginning to pound, for surely it was only Er Thom, calling to ask if he would care to eat Prime at Trealla Fantrol.

  Yes?" he inquired, touching the stud. Frad looked at him with unwonted seriousness.

  "Hullo, darling. I'm afraid we've made a muddle of things."

  The dome would not open.

  Aelliana fought down the urge to beat at it with her fists—a waste of her strength—and of time.

  Time was her enemy. The longer she stayed locked into the program, the more certain the chance of damage or death. She could not know that Ran Eld meant her to die—his intent was meaningless to the equation of destruction she saw looming before her. Unless—

  Her thoughts staggered; reformed beneath the voice of the program:

  ". . .heir or assignee of Captain Cantra yos'Phelium shall be acknowledged to hold the rank of Captain and bear the burden of the passengers' well-being. . .

  ". . . shall continue until such time as the Houses of Solcintra or that ruling body which may succeed it revoke, cancel or otherwise make null and void this . . ."

  The thunder began to fizz; she felt her bruised attention slip and thankfully crossed over to that other place which was neither sleep nor waking.

  ". . .IT NEVER OCCURRED to me that she didn't know who you were," Frad said. "We tried to get her to rouse you, but she'd have none of it, and—forgive me—it began to seem like bed-sport gone awry. In any wise, darling, here's Jon telling us she came to him the first time fresh from rough usage, and if you're looking for the villain, I'd advise you to lay money on the nadelm." He made a wry face.

  "As it happens, you have money to lay. The pilot left a cantra for you here."

  Daav remembered to breathe. "A cantra?"

  "Your share, so she tells it, of yesterday's work-fee."

  He closed his eyes. "Gods."

  "Just so. Now you see what comes of mumming innocents. Do you go?"

  "At once." He shook himself and looked into Frad's bland, efficient face. "A car, at the main gate of Korval's Chonselta Yard, in an hour."

  Frad inclined his head. "Done."

  . . .DIRECT STIMULATION. The Learning Module utilizes direct-brain stimulation . . .

  Conceive the brain as a series of relay stations, engaged or not engaged by thought. The Learning Module targets those stations currently disengaged, fills them sequentially and moves on, in theory allowing each station sufficient opportunity to recover from this assault upon its sensibilities. The Learning Module does not approach those stations engaged in cognition, or those concerned with life support.

  Within the darkness of the void, Aelliana reached forth her thought and created a star.

  And around this star, she placed a world which ran in elliptical orbit, its rotation rate once in eighteen hours, time of orbit transit, four hundred and eighty-five Standard Days.

  To the world, she gave a moon, and to the moon a spin three hundred and four days in duration, while it circled its principal once every twenty-two hours.

  She held the little system in her mind, painstakingly calculating each orbit, weighing each relationship, adjusting mass and pull and finally, the spin-rate of the little moon.

  When all was stable, balanced and beautiful, she added a second world.

  Somewhere, there was thunder. Her concentration wavered, the worlds faltered in their carefully-calculated courses. She caught them, replaced them, checked—rechecked—the relational equations; reconsidered certain mathematical alliances and necessities.

  The thunder receded.

  In time, she added a third world.

  Then a fourth.

  She populated the second world, strung space stations like Festival lights, ringed the system with beacons and waystations, created satellites and traffic patterns.

  In her head, the numbers danced, the equations pure as poetry.

  She spun an asteroid pod, skated it 'round the sun, calculating trajectories, stress breakage, possible strikes upon populated areas.

  There was no thunder. There was no Code. There was her creation and the vital necessity to keep all in balance—to calculate and continue to calculate, each nuance and effect.

  Aelliana—was.

  TEN MINUTES TO CHANGE from house clothes to the formal costume appropriate for one delm's official call upon another. Daav knotted the silver ribbon in his hair, caught up his cloak and was gone
, the door to his apartment snapping closed behind him.

  Dragon's Cub was free-berthed beyond the formal gardens. It was barely more than a Jump-buggy, but it would do very well for this particular mission. He would worry about assuaging his gardener's injured feelings once he knew Aelliana was well.

  He was moving down the main hallway at just under a run, when Mr. pel'Kana stepped out of the smaller receiving parlor.

  "If Your Lordship pleases."

  Daav shook his head. "I am in great haste. Pray make my excuses to whomever has called."

  But Mr. pel'Kana did not bow obedience. Rather, he extended a hand, fingers curled in supplication.

  "Please, Master Daav," he said, softly. "I think you will want to speak to the lady."

  He blinked, catching himself in mid-stride. "Lady?"

  Aelliana? Had she discovered him after all and come to ask his aid, while Jon and Frad and Clonak fretted for her safety? He changed course and swept into the parlor.

  Samiv tel'Izak spun away from her contemplation of the mantle - or possibly of Korval's shield, hung above it—and came three steps toward him, one hand outflung.

  "Please," she said, voice none too steady in the mode of Comrades. "Please, I—you must help me."

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The cops called young Tor An to bail me out, which he did, right enough, and all according to co-pilot's duty. When we were free of the place, he read me such a scold as I haven't heard since nursery. Puppy.

  He was right, too.

  —Excerpted from

  Cantra yos'Phelium's

  Log Book

  HE CHECKED, AND in that moment took note of her face, which was strained, pale, with black circles under her eyes, her muscles etched in exhaustion.

  "Samiv, what has happened?" He hardly thought, answering Comrade with Comrade.

  "I. . ." Her eyes filled and she glanced aside, blinking. "Forgive me."

  "Freely—and you must return the grace at once. I am in desperate haste. Word has come that—one to whom I sit co-pilot may be in peril. I must be gone in moments."