[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
She shrugged. Straightforward stuff.
He didn t mean just your technical efforts. Anyway, I didn t want to leave Elena my Elena up in the
air like this, you see, he began. She ought to at least have something, to replace what was taken from
her. Some little crumb of comfort.
The only thing she lost was some illusion. And believe me, Admiral Naismith, or whatever you are, the
only thing I could give her would be another illusion. Maybe if she didn t look so much like him...
Anyway, I don t want her following me around, or showing up at my door.
Whatever Sergeant Bothari was guilty of, she is surely innocent.
Elena Visconti rubbed her forehead wearily with the back of her hand. I m not saying you re not right.
I m just saying I can t. For me, she radiates nightmares.
Miles chewed his lip gently. They turned out of the Triumph into a flex tube and walked across the quiet
docking bay. Only a few techs were busy at some small tasks.
An illusion... he mused. You could live a long time on an illusion, he offered. Maybe even a lifetime,
if you re lucky. Would it be so difficult, to do a few days even a few minutes of acting? I m going to
have to dip some Dendarii funds anyway to pay for a dead ship, and buy a lady a new face. I could
make it worth your time.
He regretted his words immediately at the loathing
that flashed across her face, but the look she finally gave him was ironically thoughtful.
You really care about that girl, don t you?
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Yes.
I thought she was making time with your chief engineer.
Suits me.
Pardon my slowness, but that does not compute.
Association with me could be lethal, where I m going next. I d rather she were travelling in the opposite
direction.
The next docking bay was busy and noisy with a Felician freighter being loaded with ingots of refined
rare metals, vital to the Felician war industries. They avoided it, and searched out another quiet corridor.
Miles found himself fingering the bright scarf in his pocket.
He dreamed of you for eighteen years too, you know, he said suddenly. It wasn t what he meant to
say. He had this fantasy. You were his wife, in all honor. He held it so hard, I think it was real to him, at
least part of the time. That s how he made it so real for Elena. You can touch hallucinations.
Hallucinations can even touch you.
The Escobaran woman, pale, paused to lean against the wall and swallow. Miles pulled the scarf from
his pocket and crumpled it anxiously in his hands; he had an absurd impulse to offer it to her, heaven
knew what for a basin?
I m sorry, Elena said at last. But the very thought that he was pawing over me in his twisted
imagination all these years makes me ill.
He was never an easy person... Miles began inanely, then cut himself off. He paced, frustrated, two
steps, turn, two steps. He then took a gulp of air, and flung himself to one knee before the Escobaran
woman.
Ma am. Konstantine Bothari sends me to beg your forgiveness for the wrongs he did you. Keep your
revenge, if you will it is your just right but be satisfied, he implored her. At least give me a
death-offering to burn for him, some token. I give him aid in this as his go-between by my right as his
leige lord, his friend, and, as he was a father s hand, held over me in protection all my life, as his son.
Elena Visconti was backed up against the wall as though cornered. Miles, still on one knee, shuffled
back a step and shrank into himself, as if to crush all hint of pride and coercion to the deck.
Damned if I m not starting to think you re as weird you re no Betan, she muttered. Oh, do get up.
What if somebody comes down this corridor?
Not until you give me a death-offering, he said firmly.
What do you want from me? What s a death-offering?
Something of yourself, that you burn, for the peace of the soul of the dead. Sometimes you burn it for
friends or relatives, sometimes for the souls of slain enemies, so they don t come back to haunt you. A
lock of hair would do. He ran his hand over a short gap in his own crown. That wedge represents
twenty-two dead Pelians last month.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Some local superstition, is it?
He shrugged helplessly. Superstition, custom I ve always thought of myself as an agnostic. It s only
lately that I ve come to to need for men to have souls. Please. I won t bother you any more.
She blew out her breath in troubled exasperation. Well well... Give me that knife in your belt, then.
But get up.
He rose, and handed her his grandfather s dagger. She sawed off a short curl. Is that enough?
Yes, that s fine. He took it in his palm, cool and silken like water, and closed his fingers over it.
Thank you.
She shook her head. Crazy... Wistfulness stole over her face. It allays ghosts, does it?
It is said, replied Miles gently. I ll make it a proper offering. My word on it. He inhaled shakily.
And as I have given you my word, I ll bother you no more. Excuse me, ma am. We both have other
duties.
Sir.
They passed through the flex tube to the Triumph, turned each away. But the Escobaran woman looked
back over her shoulder.
You are mistaken, little man, she called softly. I believe you re going to bother me for a long time
yet.
Next he searched out Arde Mayhew.
I m afraid I never was able to do you the good I intended, Miles apologized. I have managed to find
a Felician shipmaster who will buy the RG132 for an inner-system freighter. He s offering about a dime
on the dollar, but it s cash up front. I thought we could split it.
At least it s an honorable retirement, sighed Mayhew. Better than having Calhoun tear it to pieces.
I m leaving for home tomorrow, via Beta Colony. I could drop you off, if you want.
Mayhew shrugged. There s nothing on Beta for me. He looked up more sharply. What happened to
all this leigeman stuff? I thought I was working for you. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl karpacz24.htw.pl
She shrugged. Straightforward stuff.
He didn t mean just your technical efforts. Anyway, I didn t want to leave Elena my Elena up in the
air like this, you see, he began. She ought to at least have something, to replace what was taken from
her. Some little crumb of comfort.
The only thing she lost was some illusion. And believe me, Admiral Naismith, or whatever you are, the
only thing I could give her would be another illusion. Maybe if she didn t look so much like him...
Anyway, I don t want her following me around, or showing up at my door.
Whatever Sergeant Bothari was guilty of, she is surely innocent.
Elena Visconti rubbed her forehead wearily with the back of her hand. I m not saying you re not right.
I m just saying I can t. For me, she radiates nightmares.
Miles chewed his lip gently. They turned out of the Triumph into a flex tube and walked across the quiet
docking bay. Only a few techs were busy at some small tasks.
An illusion... he mused. You could live a long time on an illusion, he offered. Maybe even a lifetime,
if you re lucky. Would it be so difficult, to do a few days even a few minutes of acting? I m going to
have to dip some Dendarii funds anyway to pay for a dead ship, and buy a lady a new face. I could
make it worth your time.
He regretted his words immediately at the loathing
that flashed across her face, but the look she finally gave him was ironically thoughtful.
You really care about that girl, don t you?
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Yes.
I thought she was making time with your chief engineer.
Suits me.
Pardon my slowness, but that does not compute.
Association with me could be lethal, where I m going next. I d rather she were travelling in the opposite
direction.
The next docking bay was busy and noisy with a Felician freighter being loaded with ingots of refined
rare metals, vital to the Felician war industries. They avoided it, and searched out another quiet corridor.
Miles found himself fingering the bright scarf in his pocket.
He dreamed of you for eighteen years too, you know, he said suddenly. It wasn t what he meant to
say. He had this fantasy. You were his wife, in all honor. He held it so hard, I think it was real to him, at
least part of the time. That s how he made it so real for Elena. You can touch hallucinations.
Hallucinations can even touch you.
The Escobaran woman, pale, paused to lean against the wall and swallow. Miles pulled the scarf from
his pocket and crumpled it anxiously in his hands; he had an absurd impulse to offer it to her, heaven
knew what for a basin?
I m sorry, Elena said at last. But the very thought that he was pawing over me in his twisted
imagination all these years makes me ill.
He was never an easy person... Miles began inanely, then cut himself off. He paced, frustrated, two
steps, turn, two steps. He then took a gulp of air, and flung himself to one knee before the Escobaran
woman.
Ma am. Konstantine Bothari sends me to beg your forgiveness for the wrongs he did you. Keep your
revenge, if you will it is your just right but be satisfied, he implored her. At least give me a
death-offering to burn for him, some token. I give him aid in this as his go-between by my right as his
leige lord, his friend, and, as he was a father s hand, held over me in protection all my life, as his son.
Elena Visconti was backed up against the wall as though cornered. Miles, still on one knee, shuffled
back a step and shrank into himself, as if to crush all hint of pride and coercion to the deck.
Damned if I m not starting to think you re as weird you re no Betan, she muttered. Oh, do get up.
What if somebody comes down this corridor?
Not until you give me a death-offering, he said firmly.
What do you want from me? What s a death-offering?
Something of yourself, that you burn, for the peace of the soul of the dead. Sometimes you burn it for
friends or relatives, sometimes for the souls of slain enemies, so they don t come back to haunt you. A
lock of hair would do. He ran his hand over a short gap in his own crown. That wedge represents
twenty-two dead Pelians last month.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Some local superstition, is it?
He shrugged helplessly. Superstition, custom I ve always thought of myself as an agnostic. It s only
lately that I ve come to to need for men to have souls. Please. I won t bother you any more.
She blew out her breath in troubled exasperation. Well well... Give me that knife in your belt, then.
But get up.
He rose, and handed her his grandfather s dagger. She sawed off a short curl. Is that enough?
Yes, that s fine. He took it in his palm, cool and silken like water, and closed his fingers over it.
Thank you.
She shook her head. Crazy... Wistfulness stole over her face. It allays ghosts, does it?
It is said, replied Miles gently. I ll make it a proper offering. My word on it. He inhaled shakily.
And as I have given you my word, I ll bother you no more. Excuse me, ma am. We both have other
duties.
Sir.
They passed through the flex tube to the Triumph, turned each away. But the Escobaran woman looked
back over her shoulder.
You are mistaken, little man, she called softly. I believe you re going to bother me for a long time
yet.
Next he searched out Arde Mayhew.
I m afraid I never was able to do you the good I intended, Miles apologized. I have managed to find
a Felician shipmaster who will buy the RG132 for an inner-system freighter. He s offering about a dime
on the dollar, but it s cash up front. I thought we could split it.
At least it s an honorable retirement, sighed Mayhew. Better than having Calhoun tear it to pieces.
I m leaving for home tomorrow, via Beta Colony. I could drop you off, if you want.
Mayhew shrugged. There s nothing on Beta for me. He looked up more sharply. What happened to
all this leigeman stuff? I thought I was working for you. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]