Due Diligence Page 3

  As Fer Gun was no threat, and ter'Meulen well aware of it, the face he saw was amused and a little sardonic. His lordship was every bit as informative as his sister, though of a slightly different flavor. If the lady's preferred topic was form, her brother's was function.

  "You have to admit," his lordship said now, strolling into the dressing room, "that Chi has an eye for a well-looking man. Ilthiria doubted that you would clean up more than passably well, but look at you! You might be the na'delm of some off-world High House."

  "Or I might be a wingless pilot from a clan so low neither Korval nor Guayar can see us on a clear day."

  ter'Meulen's eyebrows rose slightly.

  "Dismay gives you an edge, I see. Take my advice and keep your knives close. Soft words, and few, will win this day for you. If Korval had decided upon full formal, and all the High and High Mid-Houses in attendance, then, my child, you would have needed all the knives in your arsenal, and all that I could lend you."

  Lady yo'Lanna had very carefully explained to him that the event surrounding the signing of the lines was small, scarcely more than tea with friends. Which, he conceded, it might well seem to one who had known the attendees for all of her life. For him–well, he was the two-headed calf, as Jai Kob would have it; an oddity with only one thing to recommend him.

  He turned to face Lord ter'Meulen, letting the reflection of the stranger in his fine clothes and jewels slide out of sight.

  "Why does Korval make the signing public at all?" he asked, a question that had only lately occurred to him, as all of his informants had simply spoken of the signing and the luncheon as an accomplished fact. "It is only a contract marriage, after all. We might sign the lines in Qe'andra dea'Gauss' office."

  "Ah, has no one bothered to tell you? That was ill-done of us. We are well-versed in the reasons, but they are far from a universal interest."

  He walked over to the bureau, where someone had left a tray holding six glasses and a pitcher.

  "Cold mint tea?" he asked. "It will settle your stomach." He poured a glass, and inclined his head. "And mine."

  That must have been meant as a jest, Fer Gun thought. ter'Meulen wasn't about to be married before of a room full of strangers, all of whom would see through the fine feathers he had been lent, to the molting magpie beneath.

  "Truly," ter'Meulen said, turning to look at him. "The tea will do you good."

  "Thank you, then," Fer Gun said with ill grace, and moved forward to receive the glass. "She had told me that she needs a child who will grow to be a pilot, as the elder child has proven unfit, but –"

  Lord ter'Meulen raised his hand, his face in the moment very nearly stern.

  "The elder child is brilliant, and convenable, and an asset to her House. Merely, she is not a pilot, and Korval House law states that the delm must be a pilot."

  Fer Gun felt his face heat. He bowed.

  "I meant no insult to the lady. Forgive my awkward tongue."

  His lordship awarded him a broad smile, all displeasure vanished.

  "There! That is the mode–sweet and soft-spoken. Now, the answer to your question is this: yos'Phelium is the delm's Line. As Kareen cannot stand na'delm, and Chi unwisely placed all of her coins on that one cast of the dice, she must now scramble for an heir. And she must do so as publicly as possible, to put to rest any rumor that this second child's claim is illegitimate."

  Fer Gun had a sip of tea, which was pleasantly cool in a parched mouth.

  "She had said that Festival-get would not serve her purpose," he recalled.

  "The least attractive solution, though it may yet be brought to the board, should Korval wish to fill the nurseries against need. That, of course, is Korval's decision."

  ter'Meulen sipped from his glass.

  "There is another child. Sae Zar yos'Galan is a pilot and so might be delm, but he is yos'Galan's heir, and will be the clan's master trader, in his time. There are no more children behind him, either. So we come to the current solution, which is that yos'Galan will contract-wed–that happy event has already taken place–and yos'Phelium also. This will produce two children – the na'delm and an extra. The best outcome is that both children will prove to be pilots. The lesser, but acceptable, outcome is that one will be a pilot, and so Korval will have a delm. If neither child is a pilot. . ."

  His lordship shrugged.

  "But, why is Korval so few?" Fer Gun blurted, recalling Telrune's house, overfull with cousins, and never lacking for babies.

  ter'Meulen sipped his tea, and put the glass aside

  "That is a question best put to Chi. I can recite facts, but you will want reasons, and those I cannot give you." He cocked his head.

  "Finish your tea, child. It's time we were off."

  * * *

  Chi took one last look around the contract room. The flowers twined prettily up the bed posts, their fragrance subtly scenting the room. Light flowed sweetly in to the room from the wide window that overlooked the inner garden.

  Of course, she ought to have used the contract room overlooking the formal gardens at the front of the house, but the inner garden was, in her opinion, a pleasanter prospect, and smaller, which might, perhaps, comfort a boy who had been accustomed to limited sight-lines even before he had taken to ships.

  The contract-room having proved itself agreeable, Chi crossed to the door in the right-hand wall, opened it and stepped into the room that would be occupied by Fer Gun pen'Uldra for the small time that he would actually be residing in the house. After the business of the contract-room was completed, he would retire here, to sleep, or pursue what other activities might beguile him. Again, she had attempted to make it agreeable to the sensibilities of a boy of humble means. There was a comfortably worn sofa and a well-broken in chair near the fireplace, and a modest offering of real bound books on the shelves. Over near the window, was the desk, the screen useful for either entertainment or work. She had also had a scanner placed on the desk, so he might listen to the business of the port.

  The kitchenette was reasonably well supplied with wine and tea and small foods, such as one might wish for of an evening while one sat with a book, or an afternoon snack in front of a work screen.

  The sleeping room was adequate without being opulent. There was a soft rug underfoot, and a sky-window over the bed. An extremely modest jewel box, sufficient to accommodate the lad's extremely modest jewels, sat atop a plain, six-drawer dresser. There were clothes in the closet–not very many, and tailored as simply as could be managed while still preserving elegance and style.

  It would, she decided, do. Indeed, it would have to do. And, after all, the lad had spent a relumma in one of Glavda Empri's guesting suites. Perhaps he had acquired a taste for elegance.

  She returned to the contract room, being careful to close the door to the spouse's quarters firmly behind her, and opened the door in the left-hand wall.

  This would be her apartment while the contract was in force; not very much more luxurious than its opposite on the other side of the contract room. After all, they would not be on Liad above a day or two before removing to Comet and lifting in pursuit of their new-signed business venture.

  She owned herself to be looking forward to the small introductory trip. Liad became tiresome after a while, with its melant'i games and intrigues. The challenges of piloting, and even of establishing a base-line for a new route to be run by a new captain, were charmingly straightforward, and even refreshing, by comparison.

  A glance at the small clock on the bookshelf told her that was closing in on the hour.

  She would soon be wanted downstairs. The guests would have arrived by now, received by Petrella; and Bal Dyn ter'Meulen would be arriving soon, her spouse-to-be in hand.

  She tarried a moment, yet, considering that spouse-to-be. A rough lad, scantily tutored. She did not expect that he had been given any bed-lessons beyond what had been learned from such lovers as he may have had. And, truly, it scarcely mattered if the lad merely lay there and left
all the details fell to her. The point of the exercise being, not an enjoyment of art, or of each other, but simple, even coarse biology.

  A child, of her body. A pilot, if the genes aligned, to lead the next generation of Korval.

  And, if yos'Phelium had played out at last, then best to let the Line die, and leave yos'Galan free to marry another Line less likely to draw catastrophe upon it and all its workings.

  The small clock chimed the hour.

  Chi yos'Phelium sighed lightly, squared her shoulders, and took herself downstairs to be married.

  #

  Kareen met her at door to the small gather-room, all proper and smooth-faced. Chi did not sigh. Kareen was inclined to the opinion that Korval clan law was outmoded and required revision to bring it into modern times. She was further of the opinion that adhering to a protocol made in the last universe during a time of war and strife did active harm to a clan residing in a time and universe of relative peace and prosperity.

  She was not, as Chi had admitted, entirely wrong in either of those assessments. However, there was a contract to keep, and to that, once shown the terms, not even Kareen had an answer.

  "Mother." Her eldest bowed and offered an arm, which Chi took gently.

  "Daughter," she answered. "I am grateful for your guidance."

  It was only partly a joke; she was grateful that Kareen had agreed to be her support at the signing–and not merely because it would involve her personally, and perhaps reconcile her to the inevitable.

  If she did not actively frown, nor did Kareen smile; she merely stepped across the threshold and into the room.

  The clamor of voices softened somewhat as they entered, and not a few pair of eyes followed them on their way to the small dais, where her sister waited.

  "You are just in time," Petrella said, leaning close to kiss her cheek.

  "So long as I am not late," she answered, and allowed Kareen to assist her onto the stage.

  She took up her position behind the table, to the left of the portfolio and the pens, Kareen standing one step to the rear and the right.

  Those who had watched her progress turned back to their interrupted conversations. The sound of voices swelled–and all at once went silent.

  Bal Dyn ter'Meulen, whose instincts never failed him, paused on the threshold, head up, face calm, and allowed the room to look their fill, not of him. . .

  . . .but of the young man on his arm.

  Oh, thought Chi, looking as well–Ilthiria, whose instincts perhaps surpassed even her brother's, had risen above all of her past perfections in the dressing of the spouse.

  A dark blue coat with a deep nap that showed subtle pinpoints of silver when the boy moved. A white shirt, modestly ruffled down the front, as pure as a child's honor. The ruffles at his wrists were deep, falling softly over hands that were no strangers to hard labor; a ring set with a dark blue stone flashed shyly on his right hand, and the dark trousers accentuated long, shapely legs.

  He was not, Chi thought, considering the guests, anything like what had been expected. They had expected outworld manners, graceless, if not crude, but this–finely dressed and haughty, like a dagger in a velvet sheathe–took them back a step. He stood straight and utterly cool, his arm linked with that of his escort, his face composed and even cold; eyes like black diamonds glittering beneath heavy dark lashes.

  Very likely the child was terrified, Chi thought, but if so, those gathered were not know it. Indeed, she thought, watching the pair of them approach the stage unimpeded, as one after another stepped aside to let them pass–Indeed, it would seem that Fer Gun pen'Uldra's whole purpose was deny those gathered the spectacle of his fear.

  There was not the least bit of awkwardness at the dais, and Fer Gun took his place, unhurried and deliberate, behind the table, at the right of the portfolio and pen, while Bal Dyn stood one step behind and to the right, witness to the proceedings.

  The crowd parted once more, and Mr. dea'Gauss stepped forward. He walked up to, but did not mount, the dais, and turned to face those gathered.

  "We are here to witness the signing of the contract of engenderment made between Chi yos'Phelium Clan Korval and Fer Gun pen'Uldra Clan Telrune, with the child coming to Clan Korval."

  You might have heard a speck of dust fall onto the floor; it seemed that no one in the room dared breathe.

  "We begin," said Mr. dea'Gauss gravely. "Fer Gun pen'Uldra Clan Telrune, please affix your name to the contract."

  #

  "Lady yos'Galan, a moment of your time, if you please."

  Petrella turned to consider the society page editor for the Gazette, Finlee as'Barta.

  "Certainly, ma'am," she said, watching out of the corner of her eye as Chi maneuvered her contract-husband toward a knot of stalwart friends of Korval. "How may I assist you?"

  "I would value some insight into who, precisely, Fer Gun pen'Uldra Clan Telrune is," Editor as'Barta said crisply.

  Petrella raised an eyebrow.

  "Surely, the Book of Clans. . ."

  "I have, I assure you, perused the Book of Clans. It reveals to me that Clan Telrune is seated upon Echieta, a world which appears to exist to offer repairs to ships in. . .reduced circumstances. It is, perhaps, an unsavory world; nor does Clan Telrune appear to stand high among those Clans seated there."

  "Alas, there are many such worlds, and stations, as Echieta, which pursue their lives as they find best, away from the luminous oversight of the homeworld," Petrella said, perhaps not as gently as she might have done. Indeed, the editor's lips parted. Petrella raised her hand, and spoke on.

  "Your question, however, has to do with the personal history of yos'Phelium's contracted spouse. Fer Gun pen'Uldra is the grandson and only surviving heir of Arl Fed pen'Uldra, who had been for many years an influence in the so-called Divers Trade Association. He served two terms as one of the twelve seated commissioners–six Liaden, and six Terran–and served also for many years as one of the twenty-four ombudsman, as well as standing Thirteenth–the tie-breaking vote – for three cycles of the council.

  "At one time, Arl Fed pen'Uldra owned, with his lifemate, a fleet of four small traders."

  Finlee as'Barta stared at her.

  "I would ask for documentation, as the Book of Clans has failed me."

  "The information is largely found in the trade histories. It will be my pleasure to send the cites to you."

  "I thank you. One does wonder what became of the traderships, the grandfather, and the spouse's parents."

  "The tale turns bitter, I fear," Petrella said. "This information will of course be included in the cites. In short, the success of the Divers Trade Association made its members targets of pirates and other unsavory persons. Captain pen'Uldra lost his ships, his lifemate, and his children. With the one grandchild remaining to him not yet a Standard old, he sought refuge with his cousins in Clan Telrune, the better to hide the child from those who would murder him for his birthright. Captain pen'Uldra died very soon after going to ground on Echieta, and the child, now yos'Phelium's spouse, was raised by Telrune."

  "A touching history," Editor as'Barta murmured. "Pilot pen'Uldra is fortunate that Korval was aware of his circumstances. Of course, he is a pilot to behold?"

  "By all accounts, he is," Petrella acknowledged.

  "Which must of course, Korval being Korval, carry all before it."

  Editor as'Barta turned to survey Chi and her spouse, who were receiving congratulations from Azia pel'Otra Clan Elarnt, a solid trading family long affiliated with Korval in general and yos'Galan in particular.

  "Quite young, too," as'Barta said, which was merely spite, "and one, assumes, easily guided."

  "That has not been my experience of the pilot," Petrella answered sweetly.

  "I must excuse myself," she said. "Be assured that I will send the cites to you this evening."

  She bowed, and as'Barta did, and Petrella walked away, seething, to greet the other guests.

  * * *

 
; It was done.

  Well, no, Fer Gun corrected himself; the signing and the reception, and the displaying of manners only recently learned to persons he had never thought to meet, even if he had known of their existence–that was done. He hoped he did not flatter himself, to think that it had been done, if not well, at least credibly.

  He had found it. . .astonishingly easy to fall into Lord ter'Meulen's suggested mode of soft-voiced modesty, and allow his spouse to carry all before her. It was entirely possible that he had learned some important and interesting things during his tour of the gather-room on Chi yos'Phelium's arm. His grandfather had told him that information was a coin with limited value, until it was paired with another, like, coin.

  His grandfather had said other things, too, most of them doubtful, if not outright daft. But the importance of holding on to scraps of information until all the pieces came together to form a quilt–that Fer Gun had found to be apt. Trader Yinzatch aboard Selich where he'd hired on directly after school–Trader Yinzatch held to a similar understanding of data and its relationships, and had in addition been a wizard in matching edges. It had been an education to watch the trader at work, even for a pilot.

  For now, though. . .

  For now, he was at liberty, having been shown to the apartment which was to be his during the time he guested in Korval's house–another named as if it were a ship: Jelaza Kazone.

  They were pleasant rooms, much less grand than those he had lived in at Glavda Empri, which was, he admitted to himself, a relief.

  He took some moments to explore, after he had removed his loaned finery, and placed the ring and earrings into the plain box atop the dresser. He frowned on finding several rings, and earrings, a handful of jeweled pins, and glittering chains in the box when he opened it. He took a breath, to cool the flicker of temper. The contract, he reminded himself, stipulated that he might be required to attend several more gathers in support of his spouse. It would not show well on her, if he appeared each time in the same coat–which was why there were six made in his size hanging in the closet. It would show equally ill on her, if he repeated today's jewels–or wore those which were his in truth–a pair of silver earrings set with ruby, which his grandfather had told him had belonged to his mother, and a silver bracelet which had, according to grandfather, belonged to his mother's mother.