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"If showing me that your intended is both a bitch and a tramp, as well as not
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up to keeping her word, if refraining from destroying me and everything I've
built because of your stubbornness and inadequate research, and if doing it
with enough tact to keep it quiet if all this is an insult, then by all means
think so. But I will, with great regret, inform Gerswin that your quarrel with
him is strictly personal and does not involve Fugar House. While I love you,
Duran, hard as that is for you to comprehend, I also love Margritte and Aermee
and Donal and
Frynn. And if you want Helene after all this and after all she has already put
you through, what you really want is suicide."
"What will people think?"
"Nothing. They won't know, unless you tell them."
"But . . . Helene?"
"You confirm to her that you have totally withdrawn your offer for contract,
with great regret, and you leave her free to follow her heart, as you cannot
meet her conditions. What can she say? If she tells anyone the reason is
because you refused to murder someone you do not know, then you come out
looking like you have better judgment than you so far have shown. The only
question in people's minds is why it took you so long to see through her."
"You leave me no other choice."
The Baron Fugazey sighed. "No. I do not. Someday, perhaps, you will understand
with your heart as well as with your head."
Duran matched his father's sigh.
"I understand now. But don't expect me to like it . . . not now."
The two regarded each other across the open space between them.
"May I go now?"
"You may go, Duran."
"I will send confirmation of my withdrawal as you suggested. Then, I think, I
will leave for New Avalon."
Jorge Fugazey nodded, but said nothing as his son left. An even deeper sigh
escaped him as the portal closed behind the young man.
He had not told Duran that he had sent a copy of the sequence showing Helene
to the Baron
Daeris, with his own notation that any further action against one Commodore
Gerswin would be most unwise, particularly from the viewpoint of the
commodore, Fugar House, and Baron H'Llory.
Daeris would understand, even if Duran did not.
LXII
"NOW . . . IS THERE any other business?"
Eye sat in his customary position at the end of the Intelligence conference
table, sat in his shadowed splendor, flanked by his two shadowed regents, and
surveyed the room.
Silence prevailed as the uniformed Service officers looked back and forth at
each other, finally fixing their gazes on a single and white-haired Rear
Admiral.
"It would seem that your contemporaries feel you have something to say,
Admiral Thurson."
The round-checked Admiral smiled ruefully. "Under the circumstances, I guess I
have little choice." He cleared his throat with an apologetic gesture before
continuing. "We received a rather disturbing report from New Avalon, which we
managed to track back to a confirmation from a source in Fugar House. Of
course, we reported the information to Eye Corps. I was wondering what the
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follow-up might be."
Eye nodded so imperceptibly within his hood that the movement was unremarked
by anyone else, particularly since all eyes were on Admiral Thurson.
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"I presume that you are referring to the apparent reappearance of a man
calling himself
Merhlin of Avalon?"
"That is the report we received."
"As you know, there is no system or locale known strictly as 'Avalon' within
the Empire or other known human systems, which indicated that the man using
the name was doubtless an imposter.
Neither the man nor that identity has surfaced since the incident you
uncovered. Consequently, Eye
Corps has not been able to trace anything further on the individual in
question, since we were unable to obtain any sort of firm biological
identification, and since the few holos we were able to obtain revealed gross
physical parameters applicable to at least ten percent of the male
Imperial population."
"Ten percent?" That whisper came from someone behind Thurson.
Thurson nodded. He cleared his throat again. "A literature search revealed
that the only
Avalons in history existed on Old Earth. I presume that Eye Corps efforts to
identify this
Merhlin, also a mythical figure from Old Earth, attempted to tie Merhlin to
those with Old Earth ties."
"That was attempted, but no degree of certainty was possible, and in view of
the Imperial position on Old Earth, without certainty, no action would have
been possible."
Thurson nodded. "Mythical figures can be rather difficult to lay to rest."
"What are they talking about?"
"Thurson's on to something."
While the whispers should have been inaudible to Eye, they were not. Nothing
within the conference room escaped his eyes or ears, enhanced as they were by
his personal equipment.
"Should we be able to determine the identity of any true malefactor, of
course, and should the Emperor concur, we would take the necessary steps to
resolve the problem."
Again Admiral Thurson nodded, not bothering to wipe the dampness off his
forehead.
"Are there any other questions? Any other matters to be brought before the
Council?" Eye paused. "If not, the formal meeting is adjourned. I might also
add that since Admiral Thurson's retirement will become effective before the
next meeting, we all wish him well."
Eye stood.
Thurson managed to keep his jaw from falling open in the quiet hissing of
whispers that circled the conference room.
 Just promoted to Vice Admiral . . ."
 . . . never announced it . . ."
 . . . really hot, whatever it was . . . poor bastard . . . likely to be found
dead of heart failure within weeks. . ."
 . . . why you never ask questions . . ."
Eye strode out, flanked by his regents, and the Service officers clustered
around Thurson, who had taken out a large white cloth and was wiping his
forehead, despite the chill that remained in the room.
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LXIII
HIS FACE WAS as always, the same blond, curly hair, hawk-yellow eyes, although
the image was frozen on the screen.
The Senior Port Captain of Ydris glanced at the image, then at the contract on
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the console, then at her own work sheet on the third screen.
"Aboveboard and foul in the dirtiest way possible, Corso! You devil!"
She smiled in both wry admiration and humor.
The ex-Imperial officer she called Corso had her caught squarely by her own
ideals, and those of Ydris.
If she failed to recommend his offer, then the communications system he had
developed would become the tool of the commercial interests and eventually
would sell out to the highest bidder, no mat-ter how noble the initial
purpose. That such a bidder would use the system against
Ydris was also inevitable.
If she endorsed his proposal, then Ydris would inevitably become an
information and commercial hub second only to New Augusta. Even there, Corso
had calculated cleverly. The distance was great enough that New Augusta would
gain more than it would lose at least for decades.
His motivation that was what bothered her. Why would anyone go to the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]