“Get a real-time line open to Zur-Iyal ki Maliad at Amaiar Industrial Gardens, personal code A comma nine comma Yul Gan. Then, cross-load the active routing files on packet 73-1511 over to Kiv’s map files and compare with the facilities timings and route the data back.” He undid the tank catches and gratefully set it back in its rack. “And call the Roseran’s bakery and reactivate my account and tell them to send down half a dozen fresh seed cakes to the kids.” Another propriety. Where Kiv came from, you did not thank a father directly, you did a favor for his children.
“I have set your priority coding. Request one will be completed in five minutes. Requests two and three will be completed in three minutes. Request four will be completed in fifteen minutes.”
“Nothing further.” Perivar dropped into his chair and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. The face mask was supposed to filter the light down to Perivar’s comfort level, but any stay in Kiv’s quarters still dried his eyes out painfully.
Eric, don’t you try to play any fancy games with me, or I’ll broadcast what you did to Kessa and Tasa Ad from one side of the Quarter Galaxy to the other.
Six years of relatively clean living; Perivar stared around his workplace. Thousands of packets of information delivered successfully and this was what he had. One room of hardware and two rooms of furniture. He didn’t even own the walls around them. He was alive, which was definitely a plus, and if he hadn’t stuck by Eric Born, he would not have been. Perivar knew that. When living on the edge had finally become too much, Eric had taken the ship, the pilot, and the ghosts. Perivar had taken the bank accounts, and that had actually seemed to be the end of it. Most of the time he kept the past in its own place and lived for the next shipment and the next deposit in his account. His open, honest, registered, and almost always empty account.
Brain beeped twice to get his attention.
“Open channel established and connected to Zur-Iyal ki Maliad.”
Perivar straightened up to face the blank display that Brain angled up from the work surface in front of him. His fingers undid the catch on the bottom edge and he lifted the cover from the keypad. His memory strained to recall the watch command. His lips moved as he typed it in. The signal light on the edge of the pad blinked on. Green. No one was watching the line, at the moment. Perivar kept one eye on the signal light and touched the key to clear the view.
Zur-Iyal ki Maliad looked back at him with gold eyes half-hidden under a ragged curtain of straight black hair. The color of both was new.
“I like the look, Iyal.” Perivar ran his hand through his own hair to comb it back. “Dyes or upgrades?”
“Upgrade on the hair. Stays dry in the rain. The eyes are overlays. UV screens. I’m seeing if I like them or not.”
“Handy when you’re out in the field so much, I guess.” Iyal spent most of her time with the institute’s livestock, and it showed. She was a big, round woman. A casual observer might have mistaken her bulk for fat, but only until she moved. As she leaned across the table and folded her arms, muscles rippled visibly beneath her sun-browned skin.
“What can I do for you, Perivar? Or is this social?” The UV screens did not hide the mischievous glint in her eyes.
Perivar chuckled. “Iyal, Iyal, what would your husband say?”
“‘Is he still any good?’” They shared the long laugh. It was an old joke, but it felt good.
“Actually, I need a favor, Iyal.”
“Oh?”
“I need a gene scan run. Nothing fancy. Just make sure the specimen’s clean and healthy. You know the kind of thing.”
“Oh yes. I do know.” She drew back abruptly and Perivar thought of Kiv doing the same thing, not five minutes ago. “I didn’t think I was doing that ‘kind of thing’ for you anymore.”
“It’s a one-off, Iyal. I’m tying down a loose favor.”
Iyal’s sigh ruffled her new hair across her forehead. “Once, Perivar. That’s all the old times are good for right now. We just got a whole shipment of kids from the Vitae’s university. If I don’t keep myself clean, one of them’s going to be earning my pay.”
“Once.” Perivar laid two ringers over his heart. “The promise goes from here to the gods.”
Iyal just watched him. “The Rhudolant Vitae are making sure everybody comes down real hard on…the competition…these days. I hope you’re still in shape.”
“Wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t. Check your hard mail bin tonight, Iyal. I’ll have the sample in it.”
“Good enough. Take care, Perivar.”
“And you, Iyal.”
She watched him thoughtfully for a minute longer before her hand reached out to her control panel and his screen went blank. Because he didn’t request another line, the display lowered itself until it was flush with the counter again.
So, I lied, he said silently to the space where the display used to be. I wouldn’t be doing this if I was sure Eric would keep his mouth shut about me if I didn’t.
Gods, gods, gods. I’d forgotten about this. Don’t trust anybody. Can’t trust anybody. Everybody’s dangling something over you, unless you’ve got something to dangle over them, and even then it’s who’s got more and what’s worse. Abruptly, he found himself laughing. I’m getting old. And cowardly.
It wasn’t a general warning that Iyal had brought up about the Vitae, although they were the main reason her job was in danger. Thanks to the talent-mongering Vitae, Amaiar Gardens was one of the few independent gene-tailoring houses left on Kethran.
Kethran was an artificial ecology. A hundred thousand details of the environmental balance had to be constantly monitored, maintained, and replenished. A population surge coupled with an unexplained drought had the Senate screaming for help. The Vitae had quietly offered to take over the administration of the ecology for a comparatively reasonable trade and land contract. They’d moved the majority of the government employees into labs and farms they themselves subsidized, and in three years they had made themselves indispensable.
With that kind of power, they could make more than a few demands without the official power base getting upset. They could, for example, ask for rigid enforcement of some of the legal codes.
Never mind that the Vitae were the largest purchasers and purveyors of contraband bodies in the Quarter Galaxy. It was only one of the areas where they had a low tolerance for competition.
Perivar had sometimes wondered what the Vitae were looking for. They had the most sophisticated gene-engineering methods in the Quarter Galaxy, and yet they bought body after body. It was a clumsy, risky, expensive way of acquiring new genetic patterns. Tasa Ad and Kessa, the heads of the runner team Perivar had been part of, had survived by selling their…acquisitions…exclusively to the Vitae, or the Vitae’s clients.
Perivar remembered the cargo hold on the runner’s ship then. Double racks of anesthetized bodies in support capsules. No sound, except for the weird harmony that came from so many support systems droning on together.
What do you think I am? asked Eric’s voice from memory.
I think…I think I didn’t think.
“Perivar?” Kiv’s hail sounded through his translator disk.
“Here.” Perivar straightened up. “Open up. It’s all right.”
The membrane housing slid back. Perivar looked through the threshold to see the slightly wobbly scene of Kiv and his family. All five of the kids were in evidence, swarming up and down the poles, working on the control pads, delving under the map table. Kiv held all his eyes and hands open.