Hidden Resources
Runig's Rock
The ship was still there, hanging just
inside the sensors' range. Not a ship of the Clan, certainly; nor
yet the ship of an ally, the captain of which would have been given
the pass-codes, hailing protocols, and some understanding of the
capabilities of this, Korval's most secret and secure
hidey-hole.
This ship . . . This ship only sat there,
making no attempt at contact, seeming to think itself both hidden
and secure -- watching.
Waiting.
The urgent question being -- waiting for
what?
Alone in the control parlor, Luken bel'Tarda
leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, wearily.
His wager, slim as it was, rested on the
square marked "orders," while Lady Kareen, his collaborator in
maintaining the integrity of Korval's treasure-house, had her coin
on "back-up."
That the fruition of either choice would do
more than inconvenience themselves and that which they guarded was
assured. With Plan B in effect, he and Lady Kareen were their own
safety and rescue. Even if they had been inclined to endanger
others of the Clan in these uncertain times, the news that reached
them was not encouraging. Liad in turmoil, trade in disarray,
murmurings even of the Juntavas, which in saner times certainly
took care to keep itself and its business far from the news feeds .
. .
No, even if they had been so minded, there
was no certainty that any of the secure message drops remained so,
and they could not risk what they guarded on anything less than
certainty.
They were not without resources -- weapons,
that would be. And so it was that he and Kareen had decided,
uneasily, to wait, though at an increased level of alertness.
Luken rubbed his eyes again and looked once
more to the screens.
The ship was gone.
* * *
Syl Vor was snoring.
To be perfectly truthful, it wasn't so much a snore as a
sort of
puff-puff-puff
sound that Quin customarily found . . .
comforting. If his small cousin were sleeping thus deeply, it must
after mean that they were all perfectly safe, no matter that they
were in hiding, and deliberately cut off from clan and
kin.
Tonight, though -- say that tonight thoughts
of kin weighed heavy on Quin's mind, magnifying the small sound of
Syl Vor's sleep into an intolerable annoyance.
He had tried turning onto his side, and
putting his head under the pillow. But then it was hot, and he
couldn't find a comfortable place for his hands, and his feet kept
twitching, and --
Syl Vor sneezed, tiny and sharp, like a
kitten; he muttered, bed clothes rustling as he resettled himself
without really waking up.
Quin took a careful breath, loud in the
sudden silence.
There was no sound from the bunk beneath,
where his cousin Padi slept as if all were well, as if they hadn't
just today . . .
Well. It wasn't
her
father who hadn't reported in, after all. Cousin
Shan had missed several call-ins, but then began reporting again,
just as usual.
Pat Rin yos'Phelium, however . . .
Pat Rin yos'Phelium had never once reported
in. Which meant . . .
Quin swallowed, hard.
It does not mean
, he told himself,
that Father is . . . is -- anything
could have happened! He might be safe with, with an ally, or . . .
traveling! Or . . .
But his inventiveness failed here, and after all he wasn't
a youngling like Syl Vor. He knew what Plan B meant. More, he knew
that people could die. That people
did
die.
Even people one cared about.
But not
, he thought,
Father. He's far too clever. He will have -- He
will have done SOMEthing . . .
He swallowed again, and it was abruptly
intolerable, lying here with his thoughts whirling, and the
children asleep around him.
Syl Vor sneezed again.
Quin gritted his teeth and sat up in his
bunk. He put the blanket aside, and swung silently over the
edge.
* * *
Luken had walked the Rock for the third and last time
during his shift, manually verifying every reading. It was in its
way a soothing routine, and by the time he let himself into the
family quarters,
Similar Books
