SeekingJovannaGiulianAndDelanFor a people famed for easy informality on their own world, the Kalkanese delegation seemed to be relishing the formality of dinner at Anderon House. Eight courses were served, and the best plate was on display. An egalitarian people, the women in the Kalkanese delegation did not withdraw after dinner, and so Renalda, acting as hostess for her father for the first time, maintained her seat and a light flow of conversation until the end of the evening. From time to time she shot little looks at Giulian, as though asking him to evaluate her performance. When Giulian was able to catch her eye at these moments, he responded with an encouraging smile. He was impressed with her performance. The convent school had actually managed to teach Renalda something, he reflected, even if the academics hadn't taken: grace, confidence, poise. The Kalkanese seemed charmed by her. On the threshold as they left, the Ambassadress said, smiling, to Delan, "Your daughter will make a formidable diplomat, my lord. She will be a beauty, but she already shows intelligence and discrimination." Delan smiled while, by his side, Renalda glowed with pride. "And Lord Giulian too," said the Ambassadress, bending a little towards him so that he could smell the rich blossoms which, Kalkanese fashion, were woven into her smooth, dark hair. "You are of an age to travel, Lord Giulian. We hope you will not make Kalkan just a transit when you decide to undertake your explorations." "Thank you, Madame. I shall consider it," said Giulian, smiling. Though as he'd told Isabel, he had no intention of going offworld at least until the matter of the succession was settled. And we find out about Jo, he added silently to himself. The guests departed, Delan proposed a nightcap in his study to his son, but looking at his daughter, suggested that she should repair to bed. It was a measure of Renalda's sleepiness that she merely nodded, and then kissed her father and brother before taking herself off. "And, minx?" Delan called as she was halfway up the stairs. Renalda turned and looked down at them. "You did very well tonight," Delan told her. "I'm very proud of you." Renalda's sleepy smile grew warmer. "Thank you, Father," she said, and continued up the stairs. "Now," said Delan, "Some armagnac? In the study?" "I'd be delighted," responded Giulian, and followed his father down the hall. There were several things he wished to discuss with Delan. One weighed on his mind more than the rest, but he decided to ease into that one. "Nalda really is growing up, isn't she?" he remarked with a smile, as they settled into their chairs. "Indeed," said Delan, somewhat drily. "Has she enlisted you to plead her cause as regards the Acciaio boy?" "Oh, I've been approached by both sides," Giulian admitted. Delan's dark eyebrows lifted a fraction. "You have? I did entertain some hopes that this was a mere schoolgirl crush, with a touch of boyhood devilry on the other side. Are you telling me you think there's more serious intent behind it -- on his side?" "He said he'd be amenable to a formal courtship ... properly chaperoned," said Giulian. Delan gave a short laugh, in no way indicative of amusement. "Good of him," he said. "I'm half-inclined to let that go ahead -- nothing would so dampen Renalda's enthusiasm, I imagine, than stilted formality. Have him show up, washed and brushed, a pattern of propriety, to pass around the madeira cake and make polite conversation over the tea-cups, and I imagine she'd be casting longing eyes elsewhere soon enough. "But his reputation is rather more dangerous than that. Oh, he's a suitable match in terms of rank and fortune. Many Houses would be inclined to overlook that and press ahead with it as a matter of House alliance. But I've no wish to see Renalda smiling bravely while her husband flaunts his infidelities. I remember when ... Yes. Well. I have no wish to inflict that on my daughter." He smiled thinly. "You may feel free to tell me I'm looking for an impossible paragon -- that nine out of ten spouses will behave the same way. Well ... I have been the tenth -- it colours my view of life." Giulian nodded and took a sip of his drink. "Ours too. Jack and I were admitting to Isabel the other night that we'd been spoiled. But I think you're quite right -- a formal courtship would be the best way to nip a mere infatuation in the bud. And I think you know as well as I do that forbidding them to see each other is the best way to fan the flame in a young, romantic girl like Nalda. Romeo I'm less sure about. I don't know him as well." "Indeed," agreed his father. "Well ... I would be obliged if you could keep a weather eye towards him ... the reports are not favourable." He sipped at his drink again. "But what of yourself, Jules?" "You may well ask," said Giulian, and sighed. "I admit I've been rather preoccupied, even since coming back from the lower city." "Yes?" said Delan. Giulian had, of course, many times before both seen and experienced his father's minimalist approach to questioniing people. It could be remarkably effective with the guilty who felt an urge to fill the conversational spaces. Perhaps, by now, it had become so ingrained as a method with Delan that he employed it on his own family without thinking about it. It had, however, probably spurred Renalda into saying more than she had intended. Giulian, however, had intended a degree of openness from the first, and his father's approach only made it easier. "We probably would have stayed longer, all of us," he said, "only ... Jo's disappeared. She was supposed to meet Devon Byeroth for dinner almost a week ago, and she never showed up. The Women's College is concerned enough that they're making inquiries on their own account, so it isn't just us -- the ones in the experiment, I mean -- making a fuss for nothing. "We're all doing what we can to try to find out what might have happened to her. But I can't shake the fear that we're moving too slow, that by the time we pick up the trail, it may be too late." He raised his eyes to Delan's. The bald entreaty in them was plain to read. Behind it, perhaps, was the shadow of something darker. "Have you heard anything, Father?" he asked. "Could you find out?" Delan was silent for a moment. "I could find out," he said at last. "But you are aware that I might have to act upon what I find out?" "Yes," Giulian said, almost without hesitation. Even if Jo was angry at being tracked down by the Lord Regent's people, knowing she was safe and well would be worth braving her wrath; and if her disappearance had anything to do with Lord Whiteblood, he could ask nothing better. Delan looked at his son thoughtfully. "Have you considered that she might be involved in something she would really prefer not to come to the attention of the state?" he said at last. "You know the seditious pamplets that were distributed in the wake of the declaration by the heretic priests? There's very good evidence that Miss Starr was involved in their dissemination. "That may not be the only time she has defied the lawful authorities." "If the circumstances were different," said Giulian, "I might be thinking along those lines. But I can't help feeling that if Jo's disappearance was voluntary -- was planned -- she wouldn't have left in the middle of the experiment, without telling us ... and she especially wouldn't have left without telling Dev." "Hmm," said Delan. "Unless ... it was someone close to Devon Byeroth who removed her. Someone who had an interest in seeing that relationship was not maintained... "Jules ... are you sure that all your friends want the truth to come out?" "We all want to find out what's become of Jo," Giulian answered, "and to help her if she's in some sort of trouble she can't handle." "Very well then," said Delan. "My best endeavours shall be made." He looked thoughtfully at his son. "Do you wish to become involved? I realise we live in a different age now, but when I was as old as you, I had my first spy networks in place." Giulian had probably heard of this as -- in childhood -- he might have heard rumours of the interrogation chamber that Delan had maintained in the basement of Anderon House. The old tales persisted ... It was said Delan had once had a man blinded for torturing an Anderon slave girl... He regarded his father steadily. "I would like to help ... however I can." Then he said, "We do live in a different age ... and I think we owe that in large part to your efforts, Father. But that also means we -- those of my generation -- need to learn how to do our part, in our own time, to keep the advances we've made, and to go on." "All right," said Delan. "I'll put the word around." He hesitated, and then looked at his son. "You do realise ... I might be suspected of being behind this myself? And -- to be honest -- if there had been anything seditious about the activities that she was engaged in, I would have had no hesitation in stepping in and removing her in a way least likely to do harm to ... any of you. Including Miss Starr herself." "Maybe," said Giulian, his gaze unwavering. "But in that case I don't think you'd let the lot of us go plunging into the lower city to look for her. Not with Lord Whiteblood at large again." Delan smiled. "Unless, of course, I am the new manifestation of Lord Whiteblood." "I know you could never be that," said Giulian, with conviction. "Not after what he did to our family." "No," said Delan. "Although many would hold that I've done worse things." He hesitated, and then shook his head. "A long time ago. Perhaps the practical realities of today are what you should become acquainted with." "They're what I'll have to deal with, in any case," Giulian agreed. "Good," said Delan. "What other practical steps are you taking to trace Miss Starr?" "Just me?" queried Giulian. "Or all of us?" "It might help if I knew more rather than less," said Delan with characteristic dryness. "Otherwise I might be duplicating efforts you have already made." "Well, Renata, Devon and Sasha helped search her rooms at the Women's College," said Giulian. "Renata and I made some inquiries other places in the Uni district earlier today. Devon and Romeo are going into the lower city tomorrow night, I think, while Harry and Sasha check out the spaceport. I was planning to do some research at the Uni library tomorrow." Delan nodded at the divergent activities his son listed, but the last drew his obvious attention. "What sort of research do you have in mind?" he asked. "Newspaper articles," answered Giulian. Delan looked amused. "Would you care to be more explicit?" he asked. "I would if I could," said Giulian, a little ruefully. "That is, if I knew more exactly what I was looking for. As it is, I'm going to be looking for Jo's own articles, what she wrote about, and also anything that's been written about her." "Well," said Delan thoughtfully, "unless she was into more reputable journalism than I suspect, I would think the private files of the Committee for Public Safety might yield a richer haul. I can have those searched and brought to you if you like. You might find mentions of her in the more public press." Giulian nodded. "That would be helpful. I don't suppose I could get permission to search those files myself? It's always a nuisance to have to go through somebody else when you get on the track of a cross-reference, or something like that." "No," said Delan. "Not yet. Prove yourself with work in this area over the next six months or so, and I will -- if you wish -- recommend you to a seat on the Committee. After that, as you gain in experience, you will have access to higher and higher levels of files. But Jules -- remember this. It's a murky world -- and there are those out there who would be only too happy to portray you as a crippled spider at the centre of a web, pulling strings and manipulating where you cannot, by reason of your infirmities, act. "I've had similar -- and worse -- charges levelled at me over the years. I did not wish to see you similarly placed." "I can understand that," said Giulian. "But then, people who would make such insinuations are the sort of people who will always find something invidious to say, no matter what one does. 'Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou wilt not escape calumny.'" "Indeed," said Delan. "But I am not, I hope, too unnatural a father in wishing you could be spared some of the calumny that has been directed at me over the years." "I think if I can study not to deserve it, I'll be doing well enough," said Giulian. "I think so too," agreed Delan. Giulian finished his drink and said with a sigh, "I should be getting to bed. Thank you for your help, Father." "Not at all," said Delan. "I only hope it might prove useful. Goodnight, Jules. It's good to have you beneath the same roof again -- even if the cause was so unfortunate." Giulian smiled, though a bit wistfully, as he rose from his chair and reached for his crutches in the same, practiced motion. "I can't say it isn't good to be back, in some ways. But I don't intend to cocoon myself again." Delan smiled. "I wouldn't ask you to." |
