DinnerGiulianJackAndIsabelThe sun was setting as Jack made his way back up to Anderon House. He had made a concerted effort in his appearance this time, washing and combing his hair, and taking a razor to his face. Apparently he wasn't quite ready to take on the maturity of a beard. He didn't go in the front way: there were too many obstacles to sidestep, and Mother, in spite of her illness, was onto a scent. If she had spoken to Delan already, it wouldn't be long before he was cornering Jack... Or simply showing up at his flat. Jack shuddered. He went in the side entrance, sending up a cheery "Hello!" before him. Giulian's manservant, Peterson, must have been lying in wait, because he was at Jack's elbow almost as soon as he stepped in the door. "Good evening, Master Jack," he said. "Will you come into the sitting room?" He led the way down the hall, past the array of brightly painted theatre masks along the left wall, and opened the door into the sitting room. "Here's Master Jack," he announced. Giulian was in his favorite caneback rocker by the fire. "Hullo, Jack," he greeted his half-brother with a smile. "I thought we'd sit and have a drink before dinner." Jack returned the smile, giving his summer jacket to Peterson. "That sounds like just the thing. Want me to pour?" He looked around for the bar. "If you like," Giulian responded amiably, nodding toward a row of decanters and accompanying glasses on the polished oak sideboard. "Just a glass of claret for me." "How've you been doing?" "Pretty well, considering," responded Giulian. "Busy," he added, thinking of everything that had gone on since the Bahlmis House salon. "What about yourself?" Jack poured the glasses, his a bit more full than Giulian's, and handed one to his brother. He shrugged as he sat down across from him. "I've been all right, I suppose. I saw Salla Lasse again. Got cornered by Mom. That's about all that's interesting that's happened in the past few days." "Was it Lady Salla, then, who had you sweating blood?" Giulian asked in a deceptively mild tone, regarding Jack over the rim of his glass. "...figuratively speaking, of course." Jack choked on his drink, but instead of flushing, he went pale. "Sweating blood?" he said as he recovered. "No, of course not. I mean, it was hardly the reunion I hoped it would be... More like the reunion I expected it to be." He took another sip, trying to relax. "Why?" "I just wondered." Giulian's eyebrows went up fractionally. "Perhaps it was Lady Morine Lagoran, then?" "Jules, I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Jack raised an eyebrow. "I'm not the one getting caught up with dangerous women, after all." Giulian chuckled. "Lady Treasa Bahlmis is not in the least dangerous," he said. "True," Jack replied. "But I'm referring to that Jovanna Starr. You've got Mother in a fret over her. She's bad news." "What, is she afraid I'm about to lose my heart to a firebrand?" Giulian asked, amused. "No such matter. But I do admit to finding her intensely interesting. Do you think Mother knows something about her that she isn't telling?" Dr. Gallfrey slowly walked up to the Anderon residence as the sky darkened. She reviewed her options. She had very little money on her, her things were still at her mother's, and she wasn't about to return tonight with what had been said between them. And for all he was an Anderon, Giulian was a friend. And her longest patient, to boot. She remembered sitting by his bedside after the accident that had crushed his hip. Well... they told her it was an accident, but she'd just been a small girl then. With some trepidation she approached the south entrance of the Anderon House and knocked. Maybe... he wasn't home, Isabel considered. Maybe she wouldn't have to explain to Giulian why she was showing up on his doorstep at night. Maybe she should stop her wishful thinking and be pragmatic, she thought sourly as she pulled her cloak tighter around her. After a few moments, her knock was answered by Giulian's middle-aged manservant, Peterson. "Dr. Gallfrey?" he said in some surprise, nevertheless opening the door for her to step into the hall. "Is Lord Giulian expecting you?" "Hello Peterson," Isabel said as she stepped inside. "...No, Lord Giulian isn't expecting me. If... he's occupied I can come back another time." "Let me just inquire, Dr. Gallfrey," said Peterson. "He has Master Jack with him, but no other visitors." He went a few steps down the hall and opened the sitting room door. "My lord? Dr. Gallfrey has called." In the sitting room, Giulian looked up, surprised. "Isabel? Show her in, then, Peterson." To Jack he said, "You won't mind, will you, Jack? I hope nothing's wrong..." Returning to the hall, Peterson said, "Will you step in to the sitting room, please, Dr. Gallfrey?" Isabel nodded, hanging up her own cloak on one of the hooks near the door. As a rule she never made Peterson do something for her she could do herself. With a nod to Peterson she stepped into the sitting room. "Hello Giulian. Hello Jack." Isabel entered the room, almost hesitantly. Which was rather strange for her, all things considered. Her dark red hair was up in its usual knot in back, and she wore the standard long dark dress the university medical students were wont to wear. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything..." Jack rose up when Isabel entered, giving her a brief smile. "No, just talking before dinner..." Without meaning to, his eyes glanced over at a mantle clock, noting the peculiar choice in timing for a casual visit. "Yes, just preprandial drinks and conversation," Giulian confirmed. "Pour yourself something and have a seat." Normally he would have had Peterson serve a guest, but he knew Isabel's proclivities. "I'm unspeakably relieved that it's apparently me you've come to see and not Mother." Isabel chuckled dryly as she sat down near the fire. "No, I'm not here to see your mother," she confirmed. Jack looked over at the bar. "Do you want something? I can make you a drink." Isabel hesitated, then nodded. "A glass of wine, please," she answered. "It's been a day, and a touch of spirit I don't think would hurt." Jack's eyebrows raised, but he said nothing as he moved to the bar and poured Isabel a glass of red. "What kind of day has it been? I don't think I've ever seen you indulge." "Wine is acceptable for dinner and social events," Isabel replied coolly. "And for times of stress, also," she said as she accepted the wine glass from Jack. She took a sip. "Very nice," she said quietly. "I expect the influenza epidemic has overstressed just about every doctor on Aquila," said Giulian, but he was watching Isabel closely, as if he didn't believe that was the whole explanation. "Of course." Jack sat again, picking up his own drink. "Is it still bad? It's beginning to taper off, hopefully?" Isabel nodded. "Yes. We're still full up at the clinic, but at least we don't have people on the floor anymore," she said in a detached tone. "But we lost more people than we're comfortable with. Most because they were brought in when they were already starting to fail." She took another sip of wine almost absently. Jack stared at his own drink, looking, to at least his younger half-brother, like he was guilty. "I'm sorry to hear that. I... I suppose we should have had more clinics." He shook his head, realizing how lame his words sounded. "Jules, is there any way we can make it a dinner for three?" "Since we're having dinner brought over from the main kitchen, I don't think there should be any difficulty about it," answered Giulian. "Peterson..." The manservant nodded his comprehension and went out, presumably to increase the covers for an additional guest. Isabel looked up, half startled. "Dinner? Yes, dinner would be lovely, thank you," she said. She gave Giulian a half embarrassed look. "Especially since I won't be going home tonight." Her shoulders sagged slightly. "Mother threw me out this morning," she said, cutting to the core of it. "I'm... a bit too difficult to live with nowadays I suppose," she said in a slightly sad, slightly wry tone. Startlement flickered in Giulian's dark eyes, but all he said was, "Well, in that case, I have a couple of guest bedrooms upstairs, too. And if anyone gives you a hard time about it, just say you did come to see Mother. Professionally, I mean." His brows drew together in a frown. "Not that she isn't over the worst of the flu, but ... she isn't recovering as quickly as we'd all hoped." "I'll be happy to look in at your mother," Isabel said a little quickly. "Truth... I'd forgotten your mother was sick," she confessed. "My apologies. I should have come by sooner," she told Giulian, looking embarrassed. "That's perfectly all right," he assured her, adding with gentle irony, "I imagine you've been just a trifle busy." Jack recovered from his momentary shock. "And I'm sure your mother will get over it," he added. "People fight, but they can also make up. Just give her a few days to calm down. Think of it... Think of it as a vacation from family." "Family," Isabel said almost bitterly. "I sometimes wonder if Mother wouldn't have been better off without me." She took another sip of her wine, not looking up at either gentleman. "I suspect our mother will give you an argument on that," said Giulian. "And so will we." Jack set his drink aside. "Isabel, you're not only educated, but you're as educated as it gets: a doctor. You help the sick and the poor. Besides hiding under a nun's habit, it doesn't get much more noble than that. You are a parent's dream." Giulian shot a covert glance at his elder half brother, wondering about that slight emphasis on the 'you.' She and not someone else, Jack? he thought. Who? Isabel chuckled bitterly at Jack's words. "You haven't been around me much in the last few years, have you Jack?" she said wryly, her blue green eyes fixing Jack with their gaze. And if they appeared to do more, such as scan Jack's face and body with a professional eye, it might only be his imagination. Jack shrank a bit under that gaze anyway. It was hard to tell his condition under these poor lights, but there was a thinness about him... Perhaps bachelorhood hadn't had him eating well? "I am no saint. My ethics are those of truth, and truth alone. And truth is occasionally brutal and occasionally painful. Mercy is rare, death is common, and facts are the only things that keep us from going mad." She sipped her wine again. "Except for those that turn to God to get them through the surgeries and endless masses of dying. Somehow... feeling God has decided who will live and who will die makes their days somehow bearable." She looked at Jack again. "Still think I'm an ideal child?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. He sighed, eyes falling. "Okay. You're no singing nun. But you're still not a horrible child to have. You're just... blunt." "However," Giulian acknowledged, "there is a difference between admiring someone, or being proud of her, and living in the same house with her. Think of all the people you're friends with, and then think how many of them you'd be willing to have as roommates. Doesn't even necessarily correlate with how well you like them..." Isabel nodded, her mood going again from wit to morose in the blink of an eye. "There's a reason I didn't live in the dorms at the University," she admitted. "No one could put up with me for any length of time. It was easier to move back in with Mother than it was to secure a single room." Giulian shrugged. "Nevertheless, it may be time for you to have your own space," he suggested. Isabel looked at Giulian for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Mother and I..." She looked at the fire. "We're all we have for each other," she said, almost sadly. "Since Father... well, I never knew Father. I guess I can't use that as an excuse." "It still doesn't change the fact that he's gone... Whether you really knew him or not." Jack studied his drink. "It's not like you're cutting her out. Maybe you'll get along better once you have a few blocks between you. Just..." He gave her a wry smile. "Beware an invite for tea. It tends to take the place of dressing downs." Giulian grinned. "Ah yes, the classic mother technique. Fathers tend more toward drinks in the library when they want to imply that you're old enough to know better." Isabel looked slightly distrustful at their descriptions of parental beratement. Just then Peterson appeared at the door. "Dinner is served, my lord." "Thank you, Peterson." Giulian looked over at his two guests. "Shall we?" Isabel nodded and stood, carrying her wine glass. She paused for a moment to watch Giulian stand with an analytical expression. Giulian rocked forward in the cane rocker, came to his feet with a practiced thrust and lift from the arms, then stood balanced on the one good leg and the one metal-braced one while he reached for his crutches, held ready to his hand in a brass holder that had served to hold fireplace tools in a previous existence. It was obvious that he barely had to think about these movements anymore. In another moment he was leading the way out the door and down the hall to the dining room with his usual swinging, one-legged gait. Isabel nodded in unconscious approval at Giulian's range of motion. It pleased her he kept up his strength and mobility. So many who had impairments eventually gave up. Jack followed, holding doors where it was called for. He sniffed at the air, testing it, trying to guess what was on the menu. "If I miss anything, it's Anderon cooks. Slop of the night at the tavern just doesn't cut it, some days." Isabel looked at Jack curiously. "Where do you live now?" she asked the elder brother. "Oh, just a place..." He waved his hand. "It's nothing big. A... room." He rushed on, as if explaining himself. "I don't really want to have too much to care for, you see. The flat I was in just seemed like too much space to fill." Isabel frowned, trying to follow the logic. "Why was it too much space?" she asked Jack. "I would think, if anything, you would crave more space given your upbringing." "More space is fine if you have servants to take care of it for you," Giulian quipped, over his shoulder. Then he went on, "You gave up your flat, Jack? When was this?" "A while ago." He shrugged. "I think it was a bit of optimism from the family that I'd be filling it in a matter of months. I've been meaning to hand out an updated card." Isabel followed Giulian into the dining room, her eyes involuntarily glancing around the decor. Without waiting for anyone to hold a chair for her she moved to the appropriate seat and sat down, not waiting for Giulian or Jack to assist her. Unlike the sitting room, the dining room was decorated very sparely, much as it had been when Giulian's father Delan had occupied the wing, though the severity of the long table and straight chairs of dark wood was a little softened by a tablecloth of burnt orange, and the sideboard now sported a brightly woven table runner. Three places had been set at one end of the table, and a many-branched candelabrum had also been moved to that end. Jack stumbled a step as Isabel seated herself, but then recovered and sat down as well. He waved out the napkin and spread it on his lap, then glanced at Giulian. "So, what are you treating us to, tonight?" "Nothing too elaborate," Giulian said, seating himself in the chair at the end of the table. "It's only family, after all. It looks as though the gardens are starting to produce, though," he commented appreciatively, as small bowls of cream of broccoli soup were set before them by the efficient Peterson. "Thank you, Peterson," Isabel said quietly as the bowl was placed in front of her. "And what do you serve to the ones that aren't?" asked Jack, almost teasing. He dipped his spoon into his soup and stirred. "After months of tavern food, this is fancy." Giulian arched an eyebrow at him. "What I serve people depends on how much I want to impress them, don't you think? But I haven't done much entertaining yet. I think this is practically the first time I've used this room. As if you couldn't tell..." "Yes... somehow the room has more the feel of traditional Anderon," Isabel remarked as she glanced around the room. "Traditional for Father, anyway," said Giulian. "I'm not sure I want to know what it looked like when Drostin was living here." "You don't have much company?" she asked Giulian as she sipped her soup. "Not yet," Giulian clarified. "Though I'll be hosting a meeting here tomorrow." "You do?" Jack perked slightly, but just as quickly his features darkened. He returned to his soup. "Ah... The challenge, right?" Giulian nodded, unperturbed. "That's right." Isabel looked up from her soup with a frown, still holding the spoon with the steaming liquid in her hand. "What challenge?" she asked Giulian with a worried look. He responded with a sly grin. "Oh, you'll like this, Isabel," he said, knowing her views on certain aspects of Aquilan society. "A few of us young aristocrats have been challenged to spend a week or so in the lower city, seeing if we can earn an honest living." Isabel gave Giulian, then Jack, a startled look. "You're serious? You're going into the lower city to work? Both of you?" she asked incredulously. "I am," Giulian clarified. "Jack, to date, hasn't volunteered." "I'm not going to," said Jack, giving his brother a sharp look. "It's madness. That rabble rouser is doing nothing more than putting the next line of Nobles on the planet somewhere where they can get sick, get hurt... Just so she can mouth off some more." "She?" Isabel asked as she took her next spoon of soup. "Jack is referring to Miss Jovanna Starr," said Giulian. Isabel froze, spoon to mouth. She sat there for a brief instant, then deliberately finished swallowing. She dropped her hand to rest on the table, still holding the spoon as she gave Giulian a half stern, half confused look. "Joanna Star. The woman who's been loudly advocating revoking the Lasse Accords around campus?" she asked carefully. "Jovanna. That's the one," Giulian said cheerfully. "It's insanity," said Jack, shaking his head. "Not that you can get him, or any of the 'participants' to see that. Surely you see that, Isabel-- You've seen the conditions down there." "Who else is participating?" she asked curiously. "Harry for one, and Renata Tremontaine," answered Giulian. "They were at the Bahlmis salon that evening. They may be bringing in others; I left the invitation open." Isabel blinked at that. "You left the invitation open?" she asked pointedly. "You are... part of arranging this? With Miss Starr?" She glanced at Jack, then looked back to Giulian with an intent stare. "It's sort of a group project," answered Giulian, "though Miss Starr is making most of the arrangements on the city end. Talaren Bahlmis has volunteered to help us train, and suggested using the Bahlmis House salle. I'm providing a meeting place for planning discussions." "It's insanity." Jack shook his head. "Tell him that, Isabel. Mother's worried sick about this whole mess." "Why do you think it's insane?" Isabel asked Jack. "Aside from the obvious fact they'll be exposed to pathogens and physical extremes they're aren't accustomed to." "Yes, and that's the second time I've heard you bring Mother into this particular conversation," said Giulian, putting down his spoon and giving his half brother a hard stare. "What's she said to you that she hasn't mentioned to me?" Jack sighed heavily. "Nothing that I haven't already said. She's worried. She's pushing me to find out more. I don't know that she knows any more than we do about this operation." "Or about Miss Starr?" Giulian prodded. Isabel watched Jack curiously, waiting to see what his answer would be. Jack shook his head. "Perhaps. But if she does, it's nothing she cared to tell me. Truthfully, I think she's been locked up here so long, she's working off of the maid's gossip. She's restless, and snooping in our lives is more interesting than more tea." Giulian's expression relaxed into a rueful smile. "No doubt. Poor Mother! The last time I looked in on her, she'd already burned through two or three of those books Rosalor sent over after the salon." Jack relaxed as well, spoon making trails in his mostly untouched soup. "I think we need to start searching for longer books for her. Or... Perhaps we could find her some new problems to get interested?" He gave Isabel a sidelong look. "How long do you fancy to stay at Anderon?" Isabel shook her head. "I'm grateful you'll allow me to stay this evening," she said with some awkwardness. "I would hope to find a place to stay of my own soon. Perhaps someplace near the University. But I will have to look. I was busy at the clinic today. It... might be a few days I fear." "It probably would be more proper to have you stay in the main house," noted Giulian, "this being a bachelor establishment and all that." Isabel raised an eyebrow at the last observation. "Is anyone likely to worry about such things?" she asked with a hint of surprise as she looked from Giulian to Jack and back. Giulian shrugged. "For one night I don't expect it will make any difference. Who's to know, after all? Longer than that..." He grinned ruefully. "You might be more comfortable in the main house, too. Apart from mine, the bedrooms in this wing are still pretty spartan. And if you were checking in on Mother, you'd certainly have some excuse. "As far as getting your own place goes ... I was making inquiries about that sort of thing on my own account earlier in the year. I expect most of the places I looked at then have been let already, but people come and go all the time in the Uni district. I could give you a few recommendations, if you'd like." Jack swirled his spoon around his soup one last time, then nudged the bowl away. "There's a few nice places that board women where I used to stay. I can give you directions for them, I'm sure." "That would be appreciated," Isabel answered. "What kind of places are these?" she asked Jack curiously. "Are they for the students?" "Or women of independent means." He shrugged. "A few young widows, some who'd been left by a drunkard husband, some orphans who'd outgrown their nuns. No married couples, and no men. You know what a wicked influence we are." Isabel gave Jack a hard look before returning to her soup. "Thank you. If you could give me directions I will investigate the establishment in the morning." "And the soup is relatively nutritious, as well as being rather tasty." Isabel glanced at Jack over her spoon. "You are here for dinner. Aren't you hungry?" she asked in a clinical tone. Jack looked down at his soup, then back at Isabel. "I'm not so much of a soup sort of person anymore. Tavern eating has ruined me." "Tavern eating? Or tavern drinking?" Isabel asked pointedly, her dark green eyes searching Jack's face with a professional going over. "I don't drink," Jack rejoined stubbornly. "Tell me this isn't going to turn into a physical, Isabel. I really just want a nice, quiet dinner without getting poked in the ribs." Isabel shrugged. "All right. It's your health, for all I am a professional." She finished her soup quickly without further comment. Jack returned to his soup as well, sipping a few times before settling his spoon down again and giving his brother an apologetic look. Giulian just commented, "Even professionals deserve some time off now and again." He himself had eaten only about half of his soup, but his appetite was notoriously capricious. Peterson came to clear the soup plates and serve the main course: tender slices of beef in a rich red wine sauce, with side dishes of lightly buttered asparagus, bread rolls warm from the oven, and a rice pilaf seasoned with herbs and studded with pine nuts. Isabel half snorted at Giulian's comment. "There is no rest for the wicked. Or doctors," she said with an edge in her humor. "I can't remember taking a day away from the clinic." She looked almost wistfully at the food Peterson brought. "There's always too much to do," she said, her voice tired. "Nevertheless, if you don't take time to rest and eat once in a while, you'll rapidly turn yourself into part of the problem rather than part of the solution," Giulian told her in a fair imitation of her own clipped "doctor's" voice. "You're not made of iron, Isabel," he added more gently. Isabel half scowled at Giulian's teasing. "Of course I'm not," she said petulantly as picked up her fork and poked at the meat. "Though I will be bare bones if I keep eating at the clinic. Or pub food." She sagged slightly, then determinedly picked up the knife and started to cut her meat. "I should avoid pubs for a while I suppose. My purse was cut last night at one, and ... nevermind. It's a long story." Giulian looked concerned. "That, or make sure you're with someone," he recommended. A twinkle surfaced in his dark eyes. Nibbling on a stalk of asparagus, he went on, "If you're not careful, Isabel, we're going to start trying to matchmake for you. Just to make sure you have someone to look after you when you're too busy to do it yourself." Isabel looked up a Giulian with an incredulous expression. "Not fair, Jules." Jack cut into the meat as well. "You know how much we hate it. I imagine it's got to be even more of a bore for the ladies." "Well, I'd suggest she take care of the matter herself," replied Giulian, gesturing toward Isabel with the asparagus, "but I know perfectly well she'll just say she's too busy." Isabel shook her head and resumed her meal. Her pink cheeks revealed her internal embarrassment however. "A rather amusing proposal," she said calmly. "But, since I'm not inclined to surrender my job or have children, and I cannot cook or do much else to support a family, I rather think you would be hard pressed to find a match for me." She skewered an asparagus spear and dissected it into inch long pieces with her knife. "Is that a challenge I hear?" exclaimed Giulian. "The thing can't be impossible. Look at Lady Greywood. Perhaps we should ask Lord Greywood if there are any more like him at home..." "The challenge is two-fold, Giulian," Isabel said, the corners of her mouth curling up. "First, to find a male who would want to marry me as I am. And then second... finding one I would be inclined to marry. I fear the overlap on those two sets is quite small." Jack looked a little amazed as he watched the exchange. "Jules, I think you need saner hobbies." Isabel tilted her head slightly in agreement. "Jack might be right... I fear a hobby like this will only lead to failure and frustration," she said practically. Giulian arched an eyebrow. "And when has that ever stopped me?" "Never, to my knowledge," Isabel conceded. "However... there is the chance you won't be successful, and I would hate to have you waste your energy on something likely to be unsuccessful. Perhaps... we should set a duration for this hobby of yours?" she offered politely. Jack had stopped eating completely, not that he had gotten far at all, and simply watched the developing plan with something akin to confusion. "Who can set a time limit on romance?" Giulian demanded, mock-sententiously. "No, really, Isabel, if you absolutely hate the idea, I shan't plague you, but I do think you need a hobby. Just as a change of pace. How can it hurt you to get taken out to dinner once in a while?" Isabel gave Giulian a curious look. "Romance? What does romance have to do with this?" she asked frankly. "You don't think I'd expect you to tie yourself to someone for whom you had no feelings, do you?" countered Giulian. Isabel seriously considered Giulian's words, letting her fork rest on her plate as she thought. "That's... I suppose very thoughtful," she finally said. "You do realize that most marriages are ones of convenience though, rather than of love?" She looked at both gentlemen she was dining with. "It's only in romances and in very rare cases it's otherwise. I would expect if I found someone acceptable I would be willing to consider a permanent attachment. Is that... not acceptable to you?" she asked with a genuine curiosity. "For you or for myself?" inquired Giulian. "If you'd be content with a marriage of convenience, Isabel, I wouldn't presume to dictate to you. But I would have thought..." He poked a bit at the food on his plate. "I mean, I realize that among the noble houses, most marriages are ones of convenience, yes." He glanced up at his half-brother with a smile in his eyes. "Jack and I are a bit spoiled that way, I suppose. But among the citizenry at large, where you don't have the same considerations of money and politics, is it the same?" Like her, he sounded honestly curious. "I have to confess I'm not sure," Isabel answered. "You know I was raised at the University after Mother and I left here. It was a rather... abstract upbringing," she said wryly. And one that didn't include close observation of a marriage, Giulian reflected, though he didn't voice the thought out of consideration for Isabel's feelings. Her father, he knew, had died before she was born, and she'd never had a chance to know him. Isabel thought for a moment before continuing. "I think I had always supposed the best marriage would be one where the individuals were of similar intellect and disposition." She shrugged slightly then and resumed eating. "However I will again concede I am hardly experienced in such things," she said practically. Jack put down his fork next to his untouched meal. "You're both too bloody scientific about this. I mean, you act like you can just make a list of must-haves and absolutely-nots, filter through the masses, line up the potentials, pick one, and voila: happily ever after. I doesn't work that way." "Well, no, I realize that," conceded Giulian. "But if you're hoping for lightning to strike, you do at least have to go out in the rain. Perhaps send up a kite or two." He looked at Jack speculatively. "And since when did you become an expert, brother mine?" Jack's eyes darkened at the jab. "Well before you became one, that's for sure. You don't know everything that goes on in my life, nor do you need to know. Family or no." "Only if it threatens to harm you, Jack," Giulian countered, with a level look. "Then it becomes very much my concern." "And what makes you think it's going to harm me?" Jack returned the look. "Women may be trouble, but they're not so dangerous that I need my little brother sniffing around my things." "It is something to do with a woman, then," said Giulian, with just a hint of 'Gotcha!' in his expression. Jack just sighed, sat back, and pushed his dinner away. "I think I've lost my appetite. Now I remember why I left home." Giulian raised a hand in a conciliatory gesture. "No, I'm sorry, Jack. I should be the last one warning other people against dangerous enterprises." Jack gave his brother one last look, then dropped his gaze. He pulled his plate back, but only picked at it. "Just be careful, Jules. You're father's heir." Isabel watched the exchange with astonishment written on her face. "Do all families fight so bitterly behind closed doors?" she asked. Giulian's return look of surprise was almost comical. "Fight? This isn't fighting, this is just..." He waved a hand. "Disagreement." He looked back at Jack with a gleam of amusement. "What one misses out on, being an only child, I suppose!" "Yes, Isabel," said Jack with a dry twang. "You're so deprived. It's a pity. Would you like to borrow him for a while? I'm sure Jules could show you what you've been missing out on." Isabel gave Jack a dry look. "Sarcasm does not suit you, Jack," she said deadpan. "Besides... I'm temporarily homeless and unable to adopt your sibling from you even if I should so wish to. More wine?" "Temporarily," acknowledged Giulian. "I don't know, though, Jack," he went on thoughtfully. "Once she has her own place, do you think we can bamboozle her into taking Gallfrey?", referring to their seven-year-old brother. Isabel visibly flinched at the idea. "I..." She looked down at her food, obviously uncomfortable. "Perhaps that wouldn't be such a good idea," she said quietly. "It was just a joke," said Jack quickly. "I think Jules and I are giving you a good enough look into the realm of siblinghood. And you certainly have more than enough to worry about at the moment." Isabel nodded once, acknowledging the point. "It's... I had to deal with an orphan today, a young boy whose parents had died because of the flu." She poked at her vegetables halfheartedly. "Was this someone who came to the hospital?" Giulian queried, more than happy to turn the subject to Isabel's concerns. "What did you end up doing?" "It was..." Isabel shook her head. "The young gentleman in question was the one who'd cut my purse strings at the pub. After his parents died, he ran away from the orphanage he'd been put in, and was picked up by a thug who forced him to steal in exchange for food. With some assistance from Mr. Byeroth and Miss Starr who were at the tavern I was able to retrieve my purse, and we rescued the child from his enforced labor." She frowned in distaste at the memory. "I took the child to the clinic, and this morning we were able find his uncle's household down by the docks. As of this evening I expect he's being fed a large helping of soup and sweets, and being scrubbed to within an inch or his life." Jack's knife, which had begun to saw into the meat as Isabel retold her tale stopped with a scrape against the plate when Devon and Jovanna were mentioned. He set aside his utensils with a wince. "At least, the story has a happy ending," he said weakly. "But a pickpocket? Where in town were you that you were running into thugs and rebels?" "Bloody Bill's, not far from the University," Isabel told him. "I had stopped to pick up some dinner on the way to the clinic." Isabel frowned. "Miss Starr and Mr. Byeroth were there with the Efrosian Ambassador's daughter Sienna. She thinks," Isabel almost snorted, "that she knows medicine. We'll see how she does in the clinic," she said in a skeptical tone. "If she was educated on Efrosia, I expect she's familiar with a different set of techniques than you are," Giulian observed. "The question is whether any of them would be applicable -- or perhaps I should say feasible -- on Aquila." "I can appreciate that, Giulian," Isabel answered. "We will see if she has adapted to the lack of technology. We had words at the Dragon's funeral about the backwardness of our technology," she said dryly. "Ah yes," Giulian said with equal dryness. "'Why don't you have...?' this that or the other thing, usually from people who don't know our history." "Yes.... not terribly surprising to find her dining with Miss Starr," Isabel suggested. "I've been to a few of the pro tech rallies. They're rather interesting, but I'm afraid without monetary support or the support of people of influence I feel it's not going to get very far." She sounded mildly disappointed. "Well, in a way that's another thing the 'challenge' we were talking about earlier is in aid of," said Giulian. "From Miss Starr's point of view, certainly; giving us a chance to view the problem from another angle and get a better grasp on what's most urgently needed." "Indeed," Isabel answered. "It will be interesting to see if your experiment does indeed change the opinions of the younger nobles." She gave Giulian a thoughtful look. "Do you think there's any real chance of getting the Lasses and the other parties involved to end the moratorium on technology?" she asked. "Or are there external factors we can't control?" "Even the current moratorium has a time limit," Giulian pointed out. "That was the bargain Father made with the Lasses to get their cooperation for the Act of Emancipation -- another fifty years before we could renegotiate the Edict of Donatas. Which, at the present moment, gives us another thirty years or so to get ready. To think about what we want, and don't want." Jack returned to poking at his food. The bites he cut were small, though, and he chewed them a long, long time. He only half attended to the conversation. "Thirty years," Isabel answered morosely. She put her fork down. "Thirty years of backwater medical technology and people dying of the influenza virus." Giulian turned over a palm. "As over against thirty years ... maybe more ... of a whole class of people being treated as property," he said quietly. "Father calls it a 'devil's bargain'... It's not a decision I would want to have to make." Isabel didn't answer immediately. Instead she looked down at her half eaten plate of food, her cheeks pink even though her face was expressionless. "I know," Giulian said, even more softly. "It's a dilemma that touches us both nearly, isn't it?" "I don't think I'm hungry any more," Isabel answered, still not looking up. "Perhaps we could continue this discussion another time?" she asked in a subdued tone. "Of course," Giulian said quickly, but then, as often happens at such moments, drew a blank when trying to think of a neutral topic of interest to introduce instead. He cast a slightly desperate look at his elder brother. Jack was forlornly contemplating his rice pilaf, unaware that conversation had lagged for the moment. Then the silence set in, and he looked up to meet his brother's pleading look. "Um... Isabel. Are you still involved with the University? Like, taking classes or such?" Isabel looked up, startled. "I'm... doing my internship at the clinic. I'm done with my classes. Just research papers and such." She glanced at Giulian, then back down at her food. "Perhaps... some coffee? Or if a room is ready for me, I can retire for the night." "Coffee and dessert should be coming in shortly," answered Giulian, and indeed it was only a few moments before Peterson moved to open the door to an Anderon servant wheeling a tray that bore a coffee service and a plate of small pastries. The partly eaten dinners were efficiently cleared away, coffee poured for the three of them, and the pastries set in the middle of the table. "What are you working on now?" Giulian asked Isabel. "In the way of research, I mean." "A few things," Isabel answered. "Mostly trying to establish medical procedures to establish some level of sanitation. "That... and I've been considering writing a paper on the long term results of enforced technological and biological isolation on the population of Aquila." She picked up her cup of coffee. "Specifically, how the population of Aquila might have physically diverged from what is considered the norm off our world." She glanced at Giulian and Jack to see their responses to her proposal. Giulian looked interested. "Do you think there's been significant genetic drift?" he asked; then, after taking a sip of his coffee, added, "Or are you talking more about -- what would it be called -- selection pressure?" Isabel shook her head. "Actually... I suspect the human genome has changed less here on Aquila than elsewhere. In fact I wonder if our isolation in some ways has been designed to keep a somewhat pure strain of humanity in our exploding and diverse civilization." Giulian looked startled. "'Designed'? Do you mean, deliberately?" Jack frowned as he stirred his coffee. "I thought we were the ones that imposed this isolation on ourselves... You know, the economy and such. Whose grand design was it?" Isabel frowned into her coffee. "What if... the noble houses don't actually control the technology embargo? At least any more. The reason given for its establishment was to prevent the houses from killing each other. But... who exactly set the 50 year limit on technology in exchange for eliminating slavery? Was it really Aquila? Or perhaps it was House Lasse? Or even some third party..." "It may not necessarily be that simple," said Giulian, adding with a grimace, "Few things are. As I understand it, the original reason for the embargo was economic, as well as political, to prevent a planet that had had its galactic economic base knocked out from under it from beggaring itself importing offworld technology. But if other forces ended up manipulating the embargo -- or its continuance -- for their own reasons..." He turned a hand palm up. "...it wouldn't be the first time. Or even just took advantage of it." He propped his chin in one hand, looking contemplative. "House Lasse is usually credited -- if you can call it that -- with maintaining the Edicts. Certainly it was House Lasse that Father ... bargained with, twenty years ago, or at least, so I've always understood. But the Lasses have contacts and alliances all over the galaxy. People who owe them favors, whom they might owe favors to..." He looked at Isabel. "If it were so, what would be the purpose of it?" Jack's frown had grown, and he seemed about to interrupt. He thought better of it, though, and simply sipped his coffee, waiting for Isabel's answer. "I don't know," Isabel answered frankly. "But you have to admit that as a collective Aquilans have very little information about other worlds or other species." "No, we don't," Giulian agreed. "Or vice versa ... at least, so I've always assumed." "As for beggaring..." She gave Giulian a steady look. "From what I've heard at college the finances of House Rostay never recovered from the collapse. And in fact they've been forced to front the debt for the entire planet. And House Anderon holds many of the debt slips for Rostay. You could check for yourself..." she suggested. "You have access to the bank records of House Anderon." "Not yet, I don't," Giulian said. "Family tradition is that one learns the family business from the ground up ... and I haven't done the groundwork yet. When I've spent a year as a lowly bank clerk, then I can start being initiated into the mysteries of planetary finance." Jack raised his hands. "And don't look at me. I put a hold on working for Father after I got through school. I work in the cit sector." Isabel gave a nod. "It is a line of reasoning I've been... debating with myself for a while. And if anything I've suggested is true, it does not surprise me neither of you have had a chance to see any evidence one way or another." She reached to the center of the table and took a small pastry with a slice of apple on the top. "In my mind, if I could prove one way or another there is a marked difference between Aquilan physiology... perhaps even genetics, and the galactic norm, then I would prove or disprove my hypothesis." Isabel took a bite of her dessert and nodded thoughtfully. "What is your hypothesis, precisely?" asked Giulian. "That there is such a difference, or that it was ... produced, deliberately? And if so, why?" His tone sharpened. "Just scientific curiosity? Or for a more pragmatic purpose?" "And what if the difference were just by chance?" Jack sipped at his coffee. "We are an isolated population, after all, with almost no influx of new blood. No one had to design it." Isabel gave Giulian a thoughtful look. "Because it is the only reason I can think of to not allow off world medicine to the population. Think about it.... Even if we wanted to preserve this... way of life... why not allow modern medicine? We could set up a clinic inside the spaceport. It would cheapen the cost of medicine and reduce the severity of epidemics. But we don't. Not even for the nobles. They must go off planet for advanced medical care." She looked back down at her coffee. "As should you," she continued bluntly. "There are treatments for your hip. You could have the bone and nerves regenerated. You know this," she said in an almost accusing tone. "I know," Giulian answered steadily. "And maybe I will one day. But I'm the heir of Anderon; I can't leave the planet until Gallfrey is of age, or until I have an heir of my own. That's the law." Jack gave him a skeptical look. "You know, other heirs have overlooked that rule happily. Decuma, Harry... It's enforced only when you want it to. What are you scared of? That you'll miss something?" "Maybe so," answered Giulian. "Decuma and Harry are special cases. I'm sure people were willing to look the other way because, well ... if either of them had decided to stay out there, it would have simplified matters a good deal, wouldn't it? But you're right, Jack," he went on, regarding his brother with eyes that were just a little too bright. "I wouldn't think of leaving Aquila before the succession is settled. Since they've both chosen to stick it out, so will I." "But you're not involved in it." Jack set his coffee down. "You won't be making any of the decisions about who becomes Duke, or dealing with any of the fallout. You're beginning to sound too much like Father before you've had a chance to get out of this house." "Harry and Decuma are both my friends," Giulian said uncompromisingly, "and that means I'm involved. I will be head of this House one day, and will have to deal with whichever of them becomes Duke, and that means I'm involved. It may not be my decision, but it is very definitely my business." "And which of your friends would ask you to put off surgery so that you can see which gets to be duke?" He gave Guilian a skeptical look. "You're going to keep coming up with excuses, aren't you?" "Oh, don't be ridiculous, Jack! Just because I don't want to be absent when the fate of my home planet is being decided... We're not talking about a week or two, you know. It isn't only the surgery. Even after that's done, there'll be intensive physical therapy to tone the leg muscles, learning to walk all over again... It could be as much as a year, and that's even leaving out the transit time. Isn't that right, Doctor?" he shot over at Isabel. Isabel pursed her lips. "Possibly," she said reluctantly. "But those strength and stretching exercises I've given you over the years should reduce that amount of time considerably," she added, almost as an afterthought. Giulian's eyebrows flicked upward. "Really? That's good to know," he commented. "But it doesn't invalidate my point." "Perhaps it does," Isabel retorted. "There are techniques that could dramatically shorten the time. There are.... tiny devices they could implant in you to all but eliminate the therapy time. They're so small you can't see them, smaller than the cellular level even," Isabel said with some uncustomary excitement. "Nanites, I think they're called?" Giulian queried. "I've read about them. Though I'm not sure... Anyway," he said abruptly, "right now still isn't a good time for me to be going offplanet. How did we get on to me? What I'm interested in hearing about is your thesis. Now, granted the premise that Aquila has been genetically isolated, on purpose -- what would that purpose be? Do you have any hypotheses about that?" "People might not be happy to hear something like that..." warned Jack. "You know how odd they can be about anything that smacks of modern science. Do you think it could hurt your standing with the Uni?" "I... Do you think I regularly suggest this sort of thing at the clinic?" Isabel responded, looking slightly nervous. "But no one would have to know about the... nanites. I believe they can be tailored to destroy themselves once done," she added defensively. "You still haven't answered my question," Giulian persisted. "Maybe we're not done talking about you," rejoined Jack cheerily. Giulian rolled his eyes. "I'm done talking about me," he stated firmly. "And if you're not careful, I'll start talking about you instead." "Don't like the heat?" Jack asked, unswayed. "Funny... I thought you might enjoy it." "What I would enjoy," Giulian said with hard-edged patience, "is hearing about Isabel's thesis. I'm interested." "No, you aren't," Isabel inserted. "It's an abstract theory based on bacterial cultures. Quite... boring, I can assure you." "You know what I mean," persisted Giulian. "You tossed out the extremely intriguing idea that Aquila has been genetically isolated purposefully, and now you're refusing to explain why you think that might be the case." Jack sipped at his coffee, raising an eyebrow at Isabel, waiting to see if she answered, or if another dodge was waiting in the rafters. "I told you I don't know. I'm only exploring an hypothesis. "When a scientist... out there," she gestured with her chin to the ceiling, and the stars, "does biological experiments, it's customary to keep a pure, uncontaminated strain for reference purposes." Giulian nodded. "A control," he said. "The next question then is, 'uncontaminated by what'?" "I have no idea," Isabel answered primly. "But if I could confirm there was a delta, then it would be an issue worth exploring." "And if someone doesn't like you exploring that idea?" prodded Jack gently. "If it is a conspiracy... then there's going to be someone protecting it." "So I should ignore the potential danger and drop it?" Isabel gave Jack a skeptical look. "I take it that means you actually think there might be some merit to my investigations?" Giulian's dark eyes sparked. "Of course you shouldn't drop it!" "She could lose her right to practice, though." Jack looked at his brother. "And any hope of a career. God, everyone has gone mad lately!" "Do you really think the fear of losing my career would stop me from exploring this?" she asked Jack with a mild astonishment. "It should." He frowned. "You don't know what it's like to try to survive without a career. You don't have a noble house to fall back on. Just your mother. And you already don't want to live with her." "She's got friends," Giulian pointed out, his jaw setting pugnaciously. "Do you think I would use connections to save my career? Really, Giulian," Isabel said in a half scolding tone. "Not at all. Doesn't mean your 'connections' mightn't act on their own, to save you," Giulian riposted, with a half smile. "I take responsibility for whatever actions I instigate. Besides... there's no real danger unless I happen to be correct, yes? And honestly what is the chance of that?" Giulian cocked his head. "It does seem far-fetched, but ... I don't know. You tell us." "It's just a theory," Isabel said, a touch defensive. "If one were to take the enforced isolation as an external pressure and try to analyze it from a scientific angle, then the theory is... plausible. I don't know how likely since I have very little insight into the politics that keep us in this state." "I wonder how many of us do ... really?" mused Giulian, gazing down into his half-empty coffee cup as if he were scrying it. "I would personally leave that to individuals more capable of exploring that angle," Isabel replied, looking at Giulian thoughtfully. "Anyway... it's been a long day and I'm most appreciative you've allowed me to stay for the evening. Should I look in on your mother before bedtime? Or would morning be better?" she asked them. "I think morning would be better," said Giulian. "We've been trying to get her to go to bed early. Your room should be ready by now." He glanced over at his half-brother. "Jack, are you staying?" Jack thought about it, then shook his head. "If it won't offend you, I think I'll make the journey back to town. The air will do me good. My stomach's feeling a bit unsettled." Isabel almost said something again about Jack's appearance, but for once tact stepped in. "Walk safely then. There are robbers out there, as I found out last night," she said wryly. "Yes, take care, Jack," said Giulian. He pushed himself up from his chair and reached for his crutches as Peterson re-entered, accompanied by another Anderon servant come to clear away the plates and coffee cups. "Shall I show you up to your room, Isabel?" he invited. "Yes, please. It's been a tiring day," Isabel agreed as she stood and placed her napkin next to her coffee cup. "Thank you, Peterson," she said as stood up to leave with Giulian. "My compliments to the cooks. It was all lovely." "I shall pass that on, Dr. Gallfrey, thank you," said Peterson, then added to Giulian, "I've had the front bedroom made up, my lord." "Thank you, Peterson," said Giulian, starting for the door. Giulian and his two guests were able to walk together to the front hall; then, after seeing Jack out, Giulian turned and started up the stairs. "The guest rooms are still pretty spartan, I'm afraid," he told Isabel, "but they have all the essentials, and Peterson's put you in the one next door to the bathroom." At the head of the stairs they turned right, skirted the stairwell, and passed one door and a narrow stairway on the left before they reached a door that had been left open. The bedroom inside was, as Giulian had warned, sparely furnished, but did contain a bed, wardrobe, and washstand, and a fire had been lit in the fireplace. "At what hour will you wish to be called, Dr. Gallfrey?" asked Peterson, who had accompanied them. "At six... no..." Isabel blinked. "Tomorrow is Sunday. I think I will sleep until eight. Thank you again, Peterson." To Giulian she gave an embarrassed look. "I wouldn't mind a chance to sleep. I... spent half the last night reading, and I confess to being rather tired. My lack of sleep might have even been a factor in my argument with my mother." Giulian nodded understandingly. "It can make one irritable," he agreed. "And that should still be early enough for you to look in on Mother, if you want to, before she goes to Mass." He smiled. "I'll see you at breakfast, then. Good night, Isabel. Sleep well." "Good night, Giulian," Isabel said with a relaxed smile, more relaxed than she'd been around Jack. "Oh... Giulian?" she said from her doorway. "Do your stretching exercises tonight," she said with a smile. Then she closed her room door softly. |
