“Sorry, I do that, lost in thought, creating a plan. Anyway, we'll go and set that water flowing for you tomorrow. Is that all right? We can take some of your people or get them from other places if you want, so they can learn how to work all the equipment. Knowing how to do it yourselves is always better than having someone else do it for you. I think that's true at least. We'll do the initial work for you though, since it will be easier to do from the air and we have flying gear. I didn't think to bring enough for your people… I can get you some if anyone wants? Just send word to me, later though, it will be a few months.” Everyone smiled and nodded affably. Really, they seemed happy enough to not have to fly, though Mutta spoke of its virtues with vigor.
He'd have to get her some flying gear and instruction then.
The door moved, a subtle shifting noted only because the air currents changed, and at first he didn't really see anyone, even though the girl that stood there didn't move at all. It was an eerie stillness that caught the attention, almost like she wasn't real or something. A statue instead of a person. She was about fourteen from her look, as pale as he was, or nearly so, like him with a tan was probably closer. Her hair was straight and black and she was gorgeous, really just stunning. After looking at her for a second he realized who she looked like.
No, who she was, which was ridiculous.
Insane.
Plus a little freaky that he'd just been thinking about how good looking she was. Creepy. Icky really, so he blocked that part out of his mind. The power of meditation to the rescue. After focusing for ten seconds he was simply alert and ready.
Why would his mother have regressed her age that much, and be standing inside a hill in Afrak? More, she wore Afrak clothing and her hair was long, where his mother had cut hers like the Queen had to support the troops in the war effort. Finally she smiled and rushed across the room, hugging him tightly. It was familial, not amorous, so Tor hugged her back patting her shoulder a little. Taller than he was, so was his mother, but not this much. This woman was at least five-nine. Like Burks. Well.
She spoke in Afrak, her eyes happy and a smile on her lips.
“It is you Green? Is all well? Bring you news of our daughter and her family?”
Tor shook his head and then spoke, not certain a head shake meant the same thing here. Some things like that were just different, and Mutta hadn't gotten to them all yet, focusing on spoken language instead.
“No. I'm not Green. Notice how short I am? My name is Torrance Baker. I'm the one with the magic rivers? If I have this right, and if I don't then the world is more baffling than I can handle, the one you call “Green” is my grandfather. Burks Lairdgren?” Tor made a few mental leaps but it made sense so he continued.
“And since you look identical to my own mother and just asked if I had news of your daughter, I'd hazard to guess you're my grandmother? One I've always been told was dead? Interesting. I can see why though. Bad enough I look like Burks, at least he lives far away from me most of the time.”
Ambassador Mutta nodded and smiled.
“Yes, this is the Gray!”
Of course she was. Tor nodded to the eerily still woman and smiled.
That only made sense, didn't it?
Chapter eleven
“You know, I think I'm being set up here.” Tor said in Noram standard to the woman that could easily have been his own mother. Probably was in the same way he was Burks. It was screwed up, but what could he do about it? The woman was family, so he'd deal no matter how bizarre the whole thing was. It's what you did.
She looked at him for a moment head tilted slightly as if asking a question, black hair shining, running like water over her right shoulder. The robe she wore was bright blue but a single color, not accentuating her figure at all. After a bit she smiled, a slightly doubting and bitter thing that he recognized as his mothers too. It was the one she gave him when he'd just said something stupid.
“Really? You mean to say that meeting your own grandmother, one you never met, in a far off land stretches your credulity? You make magic rivers for a living, and fly through the air with the power of a thought, and think that this is the hard to believe part? What am I supposed to do with you? Well, nothing for it now, you can't help it if you're a man, can you? Come have a seat and we'll invite your friends in, some at least. This place isn't big enough for all those unbalanced behemoths.” Brushing her hair to one side daintily she let her expression turn to something less aggressive.
“Tell me, what's the point of having over-sized humans like that anyway? They eat more, take up greater resources and only contribute war and aggression to the world. I always thought the Cordes program was a mistake, but then Noram always did go with the idea of bigger being better. Small people would have done more for them in the end I think. Well, too late now. They'll breed themselves down to a decent size in a few thousand years. That or kill each other off, which will work too.”
Tor sat, there was a pillow on the floor, a pink thing that reminded him a little of spun sugar. It seemed more cloud than seat but that didn't stop it from easily supporting his weight. After a moment Mutta led in part of the group, smiling and speaking softly as if they might be scared by all this. Well, it was a trap, but only one for him. Tor shrugged and turned his clothing to black combat leathers. If it was a fight, he'd try his best. It acted as a warning to the others, who all shifted their clothing to match his. Suddenly the woman in front of him clapped her hands. Tor expected an attack, but tea came instead, carried by a ebony skinned boy of about sixteen. He didn't make eye contact at all looking down the whole time and smiled, but it was like he was shy, that horrible kind of thing that made it hard to actually talk to people at all. Tor could relate but looking away right now would be a poor plan. Ambassadors couldn't afford to be shy and retiring, could they?
“Everyone, Grandma. Grandma, everyone.” Tor said his voice gaining a bit of a lilt suddenly, he couldn't say why, but he kept going.
“At least in part, we've been lured here, I think. I imagine they really do want the rivers too, otherwise they're going to be rather upset when we start senselessly flooding the middle of their continent.” He stopped talking long enough to get a single, but very definite nod from Gray.
“So the question now is, why bring us here. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd have come just to chat, but this seems a little more… doesn't it? If I'm imagining things, please do let me know. I can go and get an early nights rest instead of dealing with this then. First though, Gray is it? Do you have another name I can call you?”
The pause was long, drawn out and peppery, if that was possible. He literally smelled pepper in the air suddenly, after a moment the shields all turned on and started flaring purple. Flickers of light in the air, making thick clouds after less than a moment, each of his people glowing suddenly, brightly enough to cast shadows on the wall. It had started with his shield, but the others followed as if catching on to the threat as he did. That made sense. It was all deep mind stuff, so when his friends saw him reacting to a threat, they did too. If without having thought about it at all.
“Nanos?” He gave the very young looking Ancient girl in front of him a hard stare.
“Genetically modified viruses, not an attack at all. They simply cause a person to feel peaceful. A temporary effect that would last no more than three days. It isn't meant as an assault. It's just that your people are very aggressive and warlike. Plus, you in particular are probably feeling more than a little tense. Call it a bit of insurance, one that obviously isn't going to work. So, my name?” She looked like she struggled to remember something finally she spoke, her voice still far away.
“Lara Gray. Now just called Gray. I had you brought here because I need you to do something for me. It's nothing all that big, I need you to carry a letter for me. To Austra. It must arrive in four months time and be handed directly to Glost Serge the Prime Minister there. It must go with you, or Burks Green, and honestly I think your personal odds of survival are higher, but I can't promise anything there. Don't tell Burks I said that though or he'll insist that he's the only one that can do the job. Will you do that for me?” With barely a movement a letter on fine, thick paper, folded in three pieces and tied with leather, appeared in her right hand. She passed it to her left, a slow and careful movement, and stretched a little to hand it to him.