The Complete Ivory

by Doris Egan

  "You sure you want me back on Athena?" I asked him. "The Board of Ethics might not like what I've got to say."

  He looked slightly pale, but said, "Well, then, offi-cers, thank you for consulting me. My secretary will show you out."

  One of the officers took my arm. "You kanz!" I was losing my temper, I really hated this man. Eln might kill me, but he'd do it for a good reason. This one was just careless and nasty. "Kanz," I said again. Another officer took my other arm, and they started to pull me away. "Pig! Ethical moron!" I found my vocabulary running backward chronologically as my fury mounted. By the time we reached the door I was throwing in Pyrene epithets. "Anti-social! Enemy of unity!"

  They pulled me out.

  So this was the Queen Emily. Of course I hadn't planned on staying in the brig, but at least it was clean and well-appointed. There was even a Net link here, although its security protection was rather stringent. I could read a few novels and get into the ship's itinerary, but that was about all. Eln had said something about notes, but maybe they were time-contingent; or maybe they were confined to the terminal in the cabin I should have had.

  I sat down in the cushioned chair by the link—a soft, adjustable, Tellys chair, that conformed to my back; it was lovely, and made you wonder what the first-class cabins were like—and I considered my situation. My personal effects, including "jewelry" (the Old Man's stone) and "one deck playing cards" (guess what) were in the purser's safe, somewhere on the administration deck. I had a receipt for them. Meanwhile, what was happening to Ran while I was in here? Eln wouldn't have had me picked up now for no reason—improvisation was not his style at all. I ought to have run the cards for Ran, whatever he'd said; maybe I could have seen this coming.

  So here I was, on a first-class liner, bound for Athena, and I wasn't even paying for it. This was where I'd been aiming for over three long years. This was the culmination of all that planning and working and constant attention to money.

  This was what they called irony.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I spent the night on a bed that was higher up from the floor than I was used to, so that I banged my knee painfully when I rolled out in the morning. Then I took a shower in the wash stall that appeared when the wall button was pushed. Then more sitting around.

  It worried me. Take-off wasn't until tomorrow; Eln had gotten me out of the way ahead of time—why? I wished for the thousandth time that I had my cards.

  In late afternoon the door opened. Two men came in, in Ivoran robes, holding pistols in a way that suggested they were very ready to use them. At once I thought two things: one, that Eln wasn't taking any chances, and two, that I shouldn't have threatened the ambassador yesterday. Scared amateurs can do anything.

  "Theodora of Pyrene?" asked one man. He was tall and bearded, older than the other.

  "Why do you want to know?" I said.

  "I'm Hedron, this is Pory—"

  Pory interrupted. "She looks like just another fuzzy-brained foreigner to me," he said. "How do we know this is the one?"

  "Kylla sent us," said Hedron to me.

  "Prove it," I said, as I backed up toward the Net link.

  He smiled. "This is the one," he said to his companion. He turned back to me. "Too long, too well I know the starry conclave of the midnight sky; too well the splendors of the firmament—"

  "All right, all right." For a second there I'd thought he'd lost his mind. "Why are you here?"

  "We're to take you off the ship," he said.

  "Then what?"

  Pory said, "Then we give you some money and a message, and let you go. Can we get moving?"

  "Well?" said Hedron.

  "Right," I said, and picked up my empty wallet-pack and followed him out of the room.

  The detention section was automated, and I was the only guest there; so we didn't even see any ship's personnel until we were two decks up and heading for the exit locks. The people we passed ignored us, assuming I suppose that we were new passengers for the Ivory-Athena leg, and had a right to be wherever we were. But before we got to the exit, I pulled on Hedron's robe. "Wait a minute," I said.

  "What's the matter?"

  "I left some things in the purser's safe. One thing in particular, that I need."

  Pory said, "We're not supposed to look after your personal possessions. We're just supposed to get you off the ship."

  "And we ought to hurry," added Hedron.

  "If Kylla had known about this, she would have had you stop for it. It's important."

  They looked at each other.

  "It's important," I repeated. "In fact, she probably wouldn't want me at all, without this."

  Hedron said, "The administration deck isn't too far. All right."

  Pory looked unhappy. I said, "One other thing. Can I ask a favor?"

  "What now?" said Pory.

  "I've got a reputation to think of on Athena. If there are people around the purser's office, and there probably will be—could one of you hold a pistol on me, as if I were your prisoner? I'd appreciate it."

  They muttered, but agreed. Lucky thing, too; I didn't like the way the purser looked at me when Hedron asked him to open the safe. He didn't look any happier when Hedron took off his shirt, tied him up with it, and locked him in.

  We lost no time in getting off the ship after that. We marched quickly through the port, off into the city, and didn't slow down till we reached the maze of alleyways behind the Lavender Palace. "All right," said Hedron. Pory stopped, opened his wallet, and brought out a small bag of tabals. I accepted it.

  "What about this message?" I said.

  Hedron said, "Pory, go over to the jeweler's shop there, and see what's good in the window." Pory left, not without giving me a sulky glance. When he was out of earshot, Hedron said, "You're not to go back to your house. You're to use the money here, buy whatever weapons you think necessary, rent a solo-driving cart, and leave the city by way of" the Ostin road. About two hours' ride there's a stand of tasselnut trees on a hill to your left. You'll be met there."

  "Met by whom?"

  "I don't know; but Kylla said to say, by just who you think. I hope that's clear to you."

  "I hope so, too. Thanks for all your help."

  He bowed. "Honored by this meeting. Next time you're going to be rescued, try to keep all your possessions in one place."

  The sensible thing to do was to go to the wagoner's first; no point buying weapons without a place to stash them. The wagoner was small, pot-bellied, and earnest— he was very earnest about renting me a four-team cart with driver, at only (he said) half the going rate.

  I said, "Just a solo, please."

  "A solo, gracious lady—believe me, no one in the capital will respect you if you drive a solo. A driver, now, and a fashionable looking team—"

  "Friend, I'm no tymon just off the ship. I know what

  I want. How about that blue cart with the canvas cover? Is it available?"

  "A wheel was being fixed," he said.

  "So is it fixed?" I asked, jingling my coins.

  "Of course, gracious lady, it's in perfect condition. But you'll need at least a paired team—"

  "I want one animal, modified for strength, with a drive implant. Of course, if it's not available…"

  "Not available! We have every drive animal on the market in this establishment. See for yourself." He led me over to the pens, and we quickly settled on a modified six-legger. I liked this one; it didn't have horns, and regarded me with a look of uninterest which was reassuring. The wagoner handed me the control box. "Ten tabals a day, and it comes to you fresh fed."

  "Thanks. I've never driven one of these before. Which button does what?"

  "I beg your pardon, gracious lady? You're not saying you want to take my best cart and you don't know how to drive it?" He looked horrified.

  "Oh, come on, sir. It's all straightforward, isn't it? The animal's trained and implanted? Really—I've piloted aircars, sir, I can certainly handle a wagon." And
crashed aircars, too, but there was no need to bring that up at this time.

  So at last I was driving the wagon, rather tentatively, through the city streets. My six-legger was rather large, but the wagoner had sworn up and down it was herbivorous, and besides, implanted animals have never bothered me deeply; they're practically machines anyway. There was an arms shop on the northwest wall, by the exit to the Ostin road. I picked up a couple of short swords, four rifles, four knives, four pistols, and four hotpencils and energizers. Then I thought about it and picked up a pistol and holster for myself. Call me paranoid, but my short stay in the Queen Emily's brig had gotten me thinking about where I was going in life and how the plans of mortals come to naught, and a lot of other things that the philosophical tomes of the university had proffered; hypothetically, I'd thought at the time.

  I drove out past the remains of the old city wall, into the meadows just outside the capital. The sun was still high, in spite of the hour, and the ground I rode over smelled sweet. It was nearly summer. I was on the Ostin road, heading west—this was the easy part, just follow the road until I came to the stand of trees on the hill. Unless I passed it when it became dark; unless I wasn't ready at the right time, because I was driving too fast or too slow to know when I was "two hours" out; unless there was no one waiting for me there—or worst of all, the wrong people were.

  It was past twilight when I reached the hill. I stopped the cart and waited. There were no villages nearby, and the last town had been an hour ago; no farmhouses, no inns. It was deserted. The evening air blew against the back of my neck.

  After a few minutes a figure detached itself from the grove of tasselnuts. I jumped off the cart and drew my pistol as it walked down the slope toward me. "Hello, tymon," said Ran's voice. "A bit late, but good to see—" He saw the pistol and hesitated. "Were you planning on shooting me?"

  "I didn't know it was you, idiot." I dropped the pistol back in its holster, ran up the slope and threw my arms around him. Maybe the stay in the brig had had more of an effect on me than I'd realized, but a good long kiss seemed the logical thing to do.

  "Well," he said, looking rather silly as an expression of embarrassed pleasure suffused his face. "Well," he repeated. After a minute he said, "I suppose we'd better get going; we are on a time limit."

  "Oh, are we?"

  He helped me up into the seat and climbed in behind. He turned to survey the back of the cart, now full end-to-end with newly purchased weaponry. He started to smile.

  "I got your message," I said.

  "So I see."

  "Well, I didn't know what you might need," I said defensively.

  "Did I say something ungracious?" Still, he looked suspiciously near amusement.

  "Are we meeting Karlas and Tyl?"

  "No, they're taking care of other concerns." He picked up the wagon control box. "You know, when I told Kylla to have you rent a solo, I really wasn't sure you could drive one of these."

  "This is my first time, actually."

  He'd been holding out the box for me to take, and now his hand froze. "Your first time?"

  "Yes, but I must say I think I'm every bit as good with it as I am with an aircar."

  "I see." He returned the box to his lap. I hid a grin; this made us even for his superiority over the excess weapons.

  We continued northwest along the Ostin Road. "How far are we going?" I asked.

  "A few hours' ride. There should be enough moonlight tonight to get by. We don't want to miss the turn-off, though; I'll tell you when to start looking for it. Then it's a quarter hour through the trees, and up the Na'telleth Road. Tevachin Monastery is on top of a hill, it shouldn't be difficult to find."

  I turned to look at him. "Why are we going to a monastery? Are you withdrawing from the world?"

  He laughed. "You say that with such irony. I must be a lot farther from na-telleth-rin than I thought. All right, as you've noted, I'm not joining up; I'm going to avail myself of the monastery's services. They're famous as a meeting place; they provide supervision, security, even arbitration if it's requested. Their reputation is spotless— they see that the rules for a meeting aren't broken by anybody. They're completely disinterested, totally incorruptible, and open to anyone who'll pay their fee."

  "Very professional," I said, after a moment. "You're meeting Eln there, aren't you?"

  "Does it bother you?"

  I shook my head. "It's about time. This situation can't go on forever." I was glad he was willing to attempt negotiation, though surprised Eln had offered it. Or had he? "Whose idea was this?"

  "That's the odd thing. I'd been thinking about it for weeks, but only settled on firm plans a few days ago. Before I could make any arrangements, one of the Tev-echin monks came to me in the market with Eln's preliminary offer." He frowned. "Our dates coincided. I don't like that. He should be at his weakest point now; why risk coming out? But he Is at his weakest point," he added with quiet intensity, as if he were talking to himself. "I know he is. I'm sure of the analysis."

  "Numbers don't lie."

  "No. Unless the data was faked—no, that's too farfetched."

  "Anyway," I said, "I'm glad you and Kyi la are on speaking terms again."

  "So am I." He stretched his legs out on the foot-rim, and smiled happily. "I suppose she decided that the time for this pretense of neutrality was over.''

  I raised an eyebrow. "Pretense of neutrality?"

  "There's no such thing as neutrality, Theodora," he said calmly. "There's indifference, and there's choice."

  We came upon Tevachin Monastery at midnight. Pools of rust-colored granite blocks showed under the torches set in the walls. Despite the hour, people were crossing the yard by the main door, leading horses to stable, carrying waterjugs, and seemingly intent on every kind of errand. Trade Square was deserted at this time of night— if these people were leaving the world behind, they certainly seemed to have brought a lot of it with them.

  A boy in a brown tunic with no outer robe ran down the front steps toward us. He paused breathlessly by the wagon, putting one hand on the driver's steps. "Ran, declared-to-be-Cormallon?''

  Ran said, "Yes."

  "And this is your witness?"

  "Yes," he said again.

  "Honored-by-this-meeting," he said quickly. "Please come with me, gracious sir and lady. You're expected inside."

  We dismounted and started to follow him up the steps. "Your wagon will be taken care of," he said.

  Ran said, "Do you know if the one I'm meeting has arrived yet?"

  "He's not expected till morning," said the boy. "They say he's been delayed by some problem. Or rather, that's the gossip, gracious sir. No one tells me anything official; you'd be better off asking the abbot."

  Ran smiled. "I'm sure your gossip's right. He's probably dealing with a major problem right at this moment."

  The boy looked at him. As we were in the hallway then, I said, "These portraits along the walls, are they members of your order?''

  "Past abbots and teachers, gracious lady." He led us down another corridor. Interesting order; half of them looked like schoolmasters, and half of them looked like horsethieves. I stopped to peer at one unshaven countenance who had particularly shifty eyes. "If you could move along, gracious lady," said the boy.

  "Sorry," I said, and followed. I wouldn't have bought a used wagon-beast from that man. Or a used virgin either.

  "Here we are." he said.

  The sign over the old wooden door read: "If the fool would persist in his folly, he would become wise." The boy pushed it open and stood aside.

  "That sounds familiar," I said to Ran, frowning. We entered the room.

  The abbot was a tall, heavy set man, more physically suited to be a wrestler than a spiritual leader. Maybe he had been a wrestler before he declared na 'telleth. He bowed to Ran and held out a hand to me.

  "The outworlder! Athenans shake hands, do they not?" And he enveloped mine in a hurricane-force, but somehow friendly, crush. "I tru
st I performed it correctly," he said as he peered at me hopefully from beneath bristly red-brown eyebrows.

  "Oh, perfectly," I assured him, glancing at my flushed knuckles. Perhaps one day he'd be introduced to the Ath-enan ambassador; let that gentleman get his share of what I got.

  Ran said, "I understand the person I'm meeting isn't due till morning."

  The abbot sighed. "So much for secrets in this House. Still, sir, you may be assured that whoever mentioned this to you would not have brought it up if you were not one of the principals. It's only among ourselves that we can't seem to keep effective security."

  "Quite all right," said Ran.

  "Believe me, private matters never leave Tevachin."

  "Your reputation assures it," said Ran politely.

  The abbot motioned us to some red silk cushions. "Well, it is true your man is delayed. We expect him before sunrise, though—I hope this doesn't disturb your schedule unduly."

  "It's within my parameters," said Ran, "I can adapt."

  "Good, good. And we have beds ready for you if you wish them; food, baths, meditation rooms—whatever is your preference. Or, Brother Camery could take you on a tour of the monastery. He's quite used to dealing with those who are still tied to the wheel—he's the Master of Novices. Does a lot of negotiating with the families; he doesn't mind the company of the unenlightened, I assure you."

  "That's very kind of you to say," said Ran. "But first, do I take it that the sunrise meeting seems to be firm?"

  "Circumstances would support such a view. Two of our monks are accompanying your man at this very moment; and he's given his bond to appear during this day.'' An Ivoran day is from sunrise to sunrise; so the latest Eln could show up was in about six hours. "What can I say?" added the abbot. "It's as firm as anything is in this life."

  "In that case," said Ran, "I would like a meditation room. My witness might want to see the tour, though."

  I looked at him in surprise. He said, "Unless you'd rather have a bed, Theodora. But you seem pretty awake."

  I turned back to the abbot. "The tour," I said, "Thank you very much."

  Brother Camery was an apple-cheeked old gentlemen with wings of thick white hair that went back on each side of his head, leaving a rosy baldness on top that matched his chubby pink face. He was talkative, charming, and sharp-eyed, with that "retiree look" I was coming to associate with many of the monks. "Happy to oblige," he said, when I apologized for the lateness of the hour. "I often don't sleep until dawn in any case. Many of my duties are night duties."