Chapter Thirteen
Francesca breathed a sigh of relief once she stood in the reassuringly civilized interior of the flyter. A dozen security guards sat on the benches on either side. Her father hadn’t taken any chances, then, even with the old shaman’s cooperation. Hiram Toth stood by the transport pad controls, smiling at her. “Welcome back, Miss Francesca.”
“Thank you, Hiram.”
Ran-Del looked considerably less reassured by the sight of so many Hayden employees. His eyes darted back and forth like he was expecting an attack.
“Let’s get a seat by the window,” Francesca said.
Ran-Del nodded and followed her through the hold, past the security staff, to the main cabin where he stopped and surveyed the rows of seats. Francesca chose a seat in the middle in the hopes that it would feel less claustrophobic to him. Ran-Del sat down beside her and stared out the window. The flyter skimmed over the canopy of trees like a boat on the river, then rose until the leafy canopy became only a russet blur.
Ran-Del gripped his seat as if he were afraid it might fall away from him.
“Everything is fine,” Francesca said. “Nothing’s wrong. We always fly this high on a long trip. It’s faster.”
Ran-Del took a deep breath, then let it out. His eyes got that unfocused look that he got when he meditated, and his breathing evened out. After a few minutes, he let out a deep breath and looked out the window again. He seemed calmer. “How is it that such a heavy machine can fly through the air like a day bat?”
This made Francesca laugh. “I’m sorry to say I don’t understand the mechanics of it myself. All I know is, a flyter uses anti-grav technology.” She held one hand out, palm down, and pressed down on the air as if it were pushing back. “It’s like the ground can’t hold it down.”
Ran-Del’s expression gave her no clue whether he understood this answer or not. He asked no more questions, but merely stared out the window as if the view fascinated him. Probably, it did.
After a while the forest ended. They flew over a few farms, and then several houses clustered into a village. There were more and more houses, and then they were over the city. Francesca studied the traffic below them, ground cars with wheels traversing the streets, skimmers zipping along a meter or two above the surface. Civilization at last!
“How does everyone keep from hitting everyone else?” Ran-Del asked.
She grinned. “It does look chaotic, doesn’t it? Skimmers and ground cars and even flyters will stop themselves, if necessary, to avoid an accident.”
His eyes clouded in doubt. “How can a machine make a decision?”
Francesca suffered a twinge of inadequacy. If he kept asking technical questions, he would soon discover how dismal her scientific knowledge was. “It’s not that any of the vehicles can think, it’s just that they can detect things—where they are, the location of buildings and other obstacles, the route of oncoming traffic.”
Just as Francesca spoke, the flyter began an abrupt descent that left Ran-Del clutching his seat. “Is anything wrong?” he said.
Francesca looked out the window and saw the Hayden complex—the huge banyelm tree in front of the main house, the employees’ quarters, the security barracks, the kennels, the tall tower rising above everything else. “Nothing is wrong. We’re home.”
As soon as she said the words, she realized that to him it wasn’t home.
Ran-Del seemed not to have noticed her gaffe. He stared out the window and frowned. “Your father said there was a barrier—a force field—over the whole of your complex. He said it kept out people and flyters.”
Across the aisle her father looked up from his portable com, a pleased smile on his face, as if Ran-Del’s remembering what he had said was a good omen. “There is a force field, and it does prevent outside flyters from landing. In order to create a gap in the force field so that we can set down inside the walls, we have to broadcast a signal that identifies us as a Hayden flyter. Otherwise, the security system would activate. Even if we didn’t crash into the force field, we’d most likely be shot down.”
A gentle thud told Francesca they had landed. Almost immediately, the main hatch opened. A tall, sturdy-looking woman strode up the boarding ramp and looked around. Forty-five seasons old, with short, springy black hair, she had an almost guarded expression on her strong-featured face.
“Well,” she said tartly, “so you’ve decided to come back, have you?”
Pop grinned at her. “Hello, D’Persis. You’re looking well.”
Alyssa D’Persis ignored this rejoinder and reviewed the occupants of the flyter, her gaze lingering just a moment on Toth and continuing until she came to Ran-Del. “You’ve brought the wild man back? Why?”
Francesca bit her lip at Alyssa’s phrasing.
Her father’s expression turned bland. “I don’t believe you’ve met Francesca’s fiancée, D’Persis. This is Ran-Del Jahanpur. He and Francesca became engaged just yesterday.”
D’Persis looked faintly incredulous. “Do we still keep him locked up?”
Francesca flushed.
Pop’s blandness gave way to the faintest of frowns. “That won’t be necessary. Ran-Del is here of his own free will.”
Francesca gave a tiny snort of protest but said nothing. Ran-Del didn’t make a sound.
“Make sure he’s in the security system properly,” D’Persis said. “If you want him to come and go as he chooses, then I need to know it.”
“Ran-Del is free to leave the complex whenever he likes,” Pop said. “And I shall certainly put the proper information into the system, Alyssa. I helped to design it, remember?”
D’Persis didn’t look in the least impressed with this reminder. “I assume I can have the rest of my staff back now. Unless you plan more jaunts across the countryside.”
“That’s it for now,” Pop said, without a trace of answering sarcasm. “They’re all yours.”
D’Persis shot an intense glance at Toth. “You’ve been on duty for days without a break, Hiram,” she said gruffly. “Take the next three days off.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Toth said, his tone polite enough to sound formal.
D’Persis bit her lip as if she wanted to say more, and then she turned and walked down the ramp without even saying goodbye.
Francesca turned at once to Toth. “Do you have to call her ‘ma’am’ like that, Hiram? It sounds so cold and impersonal.”
Toth took her rebuke well, but he didn’t look in the least contrite. “She’s my boss. What should I call her?”
Francesca gave him a stern look. “You could at least try not to sound like you’ve never called her anything else.”
Toth shook his head. “Alyssa never mixes her business with her personal life. It’s a good rule; you should try it, Miss Francesca.”
Francesca threw up her hands in exasperation.
“All right, sweetie,” Pop said, one hand on her shoulder. “That’s enough worrying about other people’s lives. You start worrying about your own. You and Ran-Del have a lot to talk about. Might as well get started, don’t you think?”
Francesca looked at Ran-Del. He seemed to be edging toward the hatch so perhaps he had found his first flight more trying than he had let on. “Okay, Pop.” She held out a hand to Ran-Del. “Let’s go get you settled, Ran-Del. Pop’s right. We have a lot to talk about.”
Ran-Del took her hand and followed her out of the flyter, his bag slung over his shoulder and Buster trotting at his heels. Francesca led the way across the yard into the house. She had thirty days to change her mind—thirty days she planned to enjoy to the fullest. She glanced at Ran-Del. The Sansoussy had no chance.
The Sixth Discipline Page 44
