Major Pieces, page 25
“Because your family’s in town? I don’t want to take you away….”
“They’re happy playing with the grandkits. It’ll be fine.” Something about that… but Kovihs was already moving on, glancing at the list glowing on Vasiht’h’s tablet. “Are you sure you want to go out? Shouldn’t you be calling your partner about that?”
“I should, yes,” Vasiht’h said. “But the timezone’s wrong right now, according to the converter. If I call in our evening today, I should hit just about when he’s eating breakfast. Or should be eating breakfast, which means in addition to discussing this with him I can make sure he eats.”
His brother-in-law blinked, then chuckled. “Does he really need that many reminders?”
“He does now, after years of getting used to other people nagging him about it.” Vasiht’h grinned. “I’m sure if we left him to his own devices for a few years he’d go back to taking care of it on his own.”
“Nagging,” Kovihs said sagely, “is how family says ‘I love you.’”
“Isn’t it though. Did you eat, speaking of?”
“Just these cookies. We could see if those cinnamon rolls are ready?” Kovihs stood. “Fair warning, though… the moment those come out of the oven people are going to start waking up and then it will be yesterday all over again.”
Vasiht’h winced. “Hopefully a little less crowded.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
Kovihs had been prescient; Vasiht’h was glad he hadn’t planned anything before the afternoon because by the time he’d started on his cinnamon roll, the trickle had begun. Dondi was topping off his third cup of coffee and plying him with poached eggs when the trickle became a flood, one that included the relatives staying at nearby residences or hotels… and of course, there was no leaving after that, not for a long while.
“I’m glad we got to the baked goods before the deluge,” Vasiht’h said later as the two of them trotted down the thoroughfare. “Or we might have had to share.”
Kovihs chuckled. “I got the impression your brother made those for the immediate family, anyway.”
“Or else he would have made more of them? Yes. Though eating his savories wasn’t a hardship.” Vasiht’h shifted his bag so it would stop bumping his hip and looked up into the sultry blue sky, framed by the thick vegetation encroaching on the buildings—or up it, in the case of the climbing vines with their bright orange and yellow flowers. Glaseahn communities tended toward clusters of buildings connected by paths to other clusters, with the natural world sculpted around the paths, and his parents lived at the edge of their particular circle. The communal buildings were found in the center of the circle, and since Vasiht’h didn’t need anything exotic they didn’t have to travel by Pad to some much larger cluster, like the one near the port. Every circle had its own siv’t, a temple large enough to pray and request services. That they’d be able to do some shopping at the local market would be a welcome bonus errand, something they’d both enjoy.
They walked together in silence, and both of them glanced at the non-Glaseah who joined them on the path, Kovihs more sharply than Vasiht’h. Refugees, maybe? Anseahla’s population was only diverse at its major cities, not in smaller communities like this… but they might have wanted to place those refugees somewhere less active.
“You haven’t asked me,” Kovihs said abruptly. “If I’m all right.”
“I haven’t, no.” Vasiht’h glanced at him. “You want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“All right.”
Kovihs squinted at him, but didn’t push it, and so Vasiht’h didn’t either. There would be time, Goddess willing.
The siv’t was built of local stone, a rough, reddish brown that felt warm and welcoming before the light hit it; with the sun on it, the heat it radiated was like the hug of a loved one. Vasiht’h had always thought, anyway. Like most local temples, it was of modest size: a central room for praying, a room to one side for consultations, and a couple of rooms off the other side for people who wanted to spend the night in contemplation. The clergy didn’t live there, being involved with their own families. But like a medical center, someone was always on duty, day and night, and that felt reasonable to Vasiht’h: this was a kind of hospital, for injuries done to people’s spirits, along with a place for giving thanks and seeking counsel.
Kovihs, who’d been walking alongside him, stopped at the door, and a very odd stop it was, too: as if he’d been planning to go inside and balked at the last moment, and was now trying to make it look like he’d meant to. “You’ll want to talk to the priest alone, I’m guessing? I’ll wait for you.”
Tempting to ask, but something in his brother-in-law’s face… Vasiht’h let it go. “All right. Hopefully I won’t be long.”
No one ambushed him when he entered, which was normal. Vasiht’h padded into the quiet dark. That was tradition, that the central room felt close, and warm. To evoke the mysteries of the Goddess’s mind, while also making plain Her nearness, and Her love. The carved panel behind the offering altar depicted Her blowing into Her cupped palms, which is how She had made reality, with breath and thought. Vasiht’h dropped a fin in the box and picked out a likely looking bead of incense, setting it on the altar. After he lit it, he sat and rested his palms on his forelegs, head bowed and shoulders rounded. He exhaled, breathed in the rich musk of generations of incense. Thank you, he said. For everything.
That was all he could think of to say, because there was so much that if he started itemizing it, he would be here for days. And he’d forget things. But She knew his heart, so he trusted She understood.
Once he was content, he stood and sought the priest. Priestess, this time, he saw, a female he didn’t recognize, brown-coated with a spotted spine. Since she wasn’t serving in her capacity as stand-in for the Goddess, he addressed her as he would have any stranger. “Alet? May I have a moment of your time?”
She grinned at him and gestured to the room with a flourish. “Of course. I’m here to help.”
Vasiht’h followed her inside. He was used to dealing with rooms furnished for bipeds, so used to it that it was strange to return to the Glaseahn norm of carpeted floor with mounds of pillows. There was one bookshelf on the wall, with a handful of books and a few crystals. The opposite wall was painted with fanciful swirls in brown and metallic gold and cream with hints of mulberry purple. Vasiht’h fluffed up some of the pillows and settled on them.
“So, alet. What can I do for you?”
How to even begin… Vasiht’h said, “All right. There’s no way for me to go at this that’s not going to sound crazy, so I’ll just jump in with all four feet. There’s a high probability that I’m going to be settling a large chunk of my family on an alien world, enough of us that we need a local siv’t. How do I handle that? Who do I talk to about getting one built and having a priest and priestess assigned?”
She stared at him, wide-eyed, then laughed. “All right, I admit that’s the first time I’ve ever heard that one.”
Vasiht’h snorted. “You don’t look old enough to have heard a lot of requests.”
“Thank you?” She grinned at him. “I was ordained seven years ago, though, so I’m older than I look.” Sobering, she tapped her fingers on her foreleg. “You can request a new temple, that’s never a problem. The only issue is finding people to staff it. This is an entirely new world? Are you going on a colony draft?”
“Sort of,” Vasiht’h said. “But it’s not a new world, it’s an old one. We’re settling on the Eldritch homeworld.”
He was expecting shock, or placidity, so her peal of laughter startled him. “No, really, where are you going?”
“I was serious,” he said, mouth twisting into a wry smile. “If I can get approval, I’m moving about forty of my family over with me, and bringing my own kits too—which reminds me, I don’t know where in the queue I am anymore. I applied before the war.”
That drained the mirth out of her. “We can check, absolutely. And I guess I should apologize for laughing, it’s just… it sounded so absurd. Like something out of a romance novel.”
“Let me guess,” Vasiht’h said, resigned. “Rexina Regina?”
The priestess perked. “Isn’t she stellar? She’s so earnest you know she has to be faking it. It’s so wonderfully over-the-top.”
Vasiht’h was entirely sure Rexina Regina wasn’t faking it, and he didn’t think he wanted to discuss the fact that he kept buying her novels with an enthusiastic fan—maybe particularly an enthusiastic fan who thought the author was being tongue-in-cheek. He cleared his throat and said, “Well, I am serious, and we are going to need someone to help us out. What do I do next?”
“Let me get a tablet and we’ll talk.”
Half an hour later, Vasiht’h stepped out of the dim warmth of the siv’t into the brassy brilliance of a post-rainshower afternoon. Shaking a paw free of the mud he’d accidentally stepped in, he looked for, and found, his brother-in-law seated near the door. “I didn’t even hear it start and it’s already over.”
“It was just a squall,” Kovihs said, standing. “Maybe ten minutes long, if that, and no thunder.”
“You didn’t get too wet?”
“Nah, the overhang here is more than enough to keep dry.” He paused. “You’re about to ask why I didn’t step inside so this is the point where I admit I was trapped under a lot of detritus during the attack and now small dark spaces bother me.”
“Sensible,” Vasiht’h said, wiggling his toes. “Want help on that?”
“Not right now. I know it’s something I should look into though.”
So… this was not the permutation of the trauma that was bothering Kovihs. He wouldn’t have been so quick to admit it, nor so forthright, if it had been, which meant the real issue was still under there, somewhere, festering. Vasiht’h wondered what it would look like when it finally erupted. “All right. Let me know if you need me.”
“I will,” Kovihs said. “So… a snack before we go grocery shopping? I like hot drinks after rain.”
The ground was still steaming as the afternoon heat interacted with the puddles. Vasiht’h shook his head, rueful. “I think you’re crazy but sure. We’ll get you that hot drink, and me a cool one, and then we’ll find something for Dondi to cook tonight.” Falling in alongside his brother-in-law, he added, “Thanks for waiting, I didn’t know it would take that long.”
“You were out faster than I anticipated, to be honest. Get everything taken care of?”
“They’re going to process the request and get back to me about it,” Vasiht’h said. “I think I surprised them. Most new siv’ts are erected in places that already have a Glaseahn presence, after all… they shuttle the clergy around. Entirely new worlds with no population to start with are rare.”
“True.”
“And I’m back in line for the kits,” Vasiht’h said. “Turns out they put a lot of the requests on hold during the attacks; I guess people are still unsettled. And… I’m back at the back at the line again.”
Kovihs glanced at him. “So not taking them with you this week.”
“Not even close. More like a year and a half.”
Kovihs winced. “That’s a lot longer than usual.”
“I can wait,” Vasiht’h said. “Though if they put me off again, I might have to arrange something on my own.” He sighed. “Well, worries for another day. That’s a likely looking café, let’s fuel up.” He paused to stare in the window at the freshly baked breads. “And bring something home. I’ll want fortification before I make my call.”
“You think it’ll go that badly?”
“No,” Vasiht’h said. “But it’ll give my mouth something to do while he thinks about what I’ve said. So I can give him time to decide what to answer.” He shook his head. “I’m not going to need to convince him—I don’t think, or at least, out of all the Eldritch I talk to he’ll be the one who needs the least convincing—but the urge to start on the justifications anyway is going to be… powerful. Besides… look at that roll!”
“Filled with spinach and chopped nuts and cheese?” Kovihs mmmed. “Yes, please. After you, ariihir.” As Vasiht’h stepped past him, and through the door, Kovihs finished, “It’ll go fine. You’ll see.”
Again, something about that… about how calm Kovihs was, almost as if he was unattached to the results…? Vasiht’h glanced at him sharply, then said, “I hope so.”
4
“Coffee, my lord? Or there is chocolate and tea on the sideboard.”
Jahir hid his astonishment at the servant’s offer. “Truly? Coffee?”
“Yes, my lord.” This was a new servant, a man he didn’t recognize, and he wondered where his mother had found him. “We have it through Laisrathera. If you would like a cup, we will prepare one for you.”
Which was an answer that begged further explanation, but not out of a servant who might find it uncomfortable to be interrogated. “Thank you. I’ll have the tea for now.”
“Shall I bring you the broadsheet?”
Useless to ask what the man meant, so Jahir said simply, “Yes, if you please.” Which is how he found himself to be settled with that cup of tea and a folded newspaper, in addition to the breakfast he selected from the sideboard which, he saw, was presented in modern chafing dishes. They’d set out a spread to satisfy his mother, who had an inveterate sweet tooth: almost entirely composed of pastries and fruits, with some cheeses and, he saw with a smile, the inevitable biscuits. Since Vasiht’h would have approved of the latter, he made himself a plate with one, spread with soft white cheese and a spray of black raspberries, and sat to consider the broadsheet. Printed on a press, he thought from the type… who had decided to build a printing press? God and Lady, what a museum piece that must be. And they’d used it to create what appeared to be a gossip rag. With growing bewilderment, he skimmed the speculations about the forthcoming summer court’s schedule of entertainments, and who was bringing whom to court, and what someone had said about someone else during the winter court and what could it possibly mean.
He was still reading—the back page this time, which consisted of letters to the editor—when his data tablet chirped. Grateful for the interruption, he answered. “Oh! Ariihir! How good it is to hear from you, though I did not expect you so soon.”
“It doesn’t feel soon on this end.” Vasiht’h looked tired, but not distressed. “Did I interrupt your breakfast?” Jahir glanced at his still full plate, a motion that was not lost on his partner of so many years. “Oh good. Go ahead and keep eating, I’ll talk.”
“All right. Is there something wrong?”
“Goddess. Not in the way you mean.” Vasiht’h sighed. “It’s good to be here. The whole clan turned out to see us, me and Sehvi’s family. Some of Kovihs’s relations too. It’s crowded.”
“Reassuring, surely?”
“I might not be quite so used to it anymore.” Vasiht’h’s chagrin was mild. “So I hope you have room over there, because a lot of them want to come home with me.”
Jahir put down the biscuit he’d been about to eat. “How many?”
“Between forty-two and forty-seven? Jahir—don’t push the plate away.”
Since he’d been about to do so, he chuckled a little. “How well you know me.” Forcing himself to eat, to chew, to swallow, gave him the pause he needed to compose himself. “You… are not making a jest, I perceive.”
“Not in the slightest, and it came at me just as cold as it’s coming at you. My family doesn’t want me living there by myself. Or you. Or Sehvi. They want to come and help. And to be fair… they have a lot of help to give. You should see the list of skills and professions they’ve compiled…! And before you ask, they know they won’t be able to practice a lot of those skills the way they’re used to. I’ve explained the situation with your tech level to them. They…” Vasiht’h spread his hands. “They want to help.”
“It is… a significant request,” he said slowly. “You know I can’t make such decisions unilaterally.”
“I didn’t expect it, no. And I told them I didn’t know if they’d be allowed. But they’re willing to wait.”
“Then… I will see what is necessary to make it happen.”
Vasiht’h was watching him, and so familiar was that expression that Jahir could sense the emotions that would have gone along with it: the narrowed focus that gleamed like the polished edge of a sword as he scraped it against a whetstone. “You haven’t said the important thing yet, though.”
“That being?”
“Whether or not you like the idea.”
Jahir started. “Need you ask?”
“Yes? It’s one thing to say ‘all right’ to your partner bringing his sister and her spouse and kids to your house to live with you. Another thing entirely to show up with an extra forty relatives. No one asked you if you wanted your home invaded by Glaseah, and that’s the first question you need to answer before we go any further.”
Framing it thus made him sit back and consider it more carefully. And yet… he felt no differently. It might be strange to have the sepulchral peace of the Seni manse disturbed by dozens of strangers, but they would not remain strangers long, and really… the peace was sepulchral. His mother would be the first to say so, he thought. Had said so. Nor was there any reason all those relations should stay in the manor proper, with all the real estate spread around the house like a gift waiting to be unwrapped. Had he not been thinking how good it would be to see those copses and glades filled? And perhaps the Seni town might find itself revitalized, as well, if their tenants could be convinced to accept aliens as neighbors…
He sighed a little. “I will not lie and say it will be easy on any of us, ariihir. But that does not make it unworthy of the trial.”
“All right. That’s a better answer. What do we do next?”
“Next, I speak with the Empress. I am to make that appointment today, though I can’t guess when I’ll be seen. I will tell you when I know.”
