Cecelia Holland - Floating Worlds

“Paula,” Ketac called. “Come see what I found you.”

She went down the long room toward him. His attentions made her suspicious. He had spent the morning putting carpet down and now he was unpacking a large box. He set a big yellow ball on the table and held it with one hand to keep it from rolling while he fished in the carton.

“See if you can find the base.”

David had followed her. He stood with his hands behind him, his forehead grooved. Paula took a plastic foot out of the box and Ketac put the yellow ball on it.

“It’s not to scale,” he said. He took a handful of smaller balls out of the box and tossed them up into the air. They flew toward the yellow ball and swung into orbit around it. Paula murmured. It was a magnet-driven model of the Middle Planets. The Earth and Luna passed her, turning around and around each other, painted with their surface features.

Ketac said, “There’s been some kind of change in the Council. Not by force.”

“An election.”

“Whatever. Now they’re asking us for peace terms.”

Paula said, “Those bastards,” under her breath.

“The Prima will need your advice.”

She gave him a sharp glance. Then that was why he was here. His long ugly face was aimed at the model. She reached for her glass on the sideboard along the wall. “All right. Tell him I will.”

His head nodded. The men were bringing a big backless couch in the door, and he went to tell them where to put it. David came up beside her.

“I don’t understand,” he said stubbornly.

“Don’t act like a baby.”

“Don’t you love us any more?”

“David, I’m not playing this little heartbreaker game with you. If Saba is putting you to it, you’re a fool, and if not, you’re a sadist.”

His face stiffened. When he was angry he looked younger, a little boy again. “I hate you,” he said.

“At least that’s honest.”

He ran out of the room. The wrong man’s son. She looked down at the model, Mars was spinning toward her, busy in its coils of moons. She batted it across the room. Unharmed, it flew back to its orbit around the yellow Sun. Ketac had gone. The workmen banged chairs into each other. Deep in her thoughts, she watched the model turning. Suddenly she knew someone was staring at her, and raising her head she saw Tanuojin behind her.

“What are you doing here?” he said. “I thought you were planning an elegant suttee in memory of your lover.”

She turned back to the model. “Impractical.”

“Maybe you just have a short memory.”

“Oh, no, my dear. I remember everything.”

The workmen sprang to attention. Saba was coming in, trailed by a procession of men, Leno and Ymma, their aides, David, Junna, and half a dozen others. Paula moved away from Tanuojin, up to the middle of the room, where she could see them all. Leno stood before the big chair on her left, waiting for Saba to sit down. Paula leaned against the waist-high bookcase that ran the length of the wall.

“Who is Alvers Newrose?” Saba said. He sat down on the backless yellow couch, and the other men lowered themselves into their chairs.

“He’s a Martian politician,” Paula said. “He was Council First Secretary before Cam Savenia, I don’t know what he is now.”

“Can I trust him?”

“Probably not.” It was strange to be talking so civilly to him. She wished she had scratched his eyes out. She said, “Jefferson liked Newrose. She dealt with him by preference.”

“What happened to her?”

From the end of the room by the model, Tanuojin said, “Savenia had her shot.”

Saba stood up again, and all around the room the lesser men bolted to their feet. He paced around the low couch. “This Newrose is coming here to talk. If we can get the Council to surrender, we can handle the Martian Army on our own time.”

“They won’t surrender,” Ymma said. The overhead lighting made grotesque shadows on his hacked face. “Not while their fleet is still out. Will they?”

“They saw what we did to the Earth,” Saba said.

“Where is the Martian Fleet?” Ymma asked.

Leno was standing behind his big chair, his hands on its back. When he leaned his weight on it, he nearly tipped it over. “Scattered around in the first and second rings of the Asteroids. I sent eighteen ships to scout them out.” His mustaches, braided with silver, trailed down over his chest.

“We’ll have to fight them anyway,” Tanuojin said to Saba. “Why do you bother with this Newrose? Let him wait. When we’ve beaten their fleet, the Martians will go down on their knees to us, where they belong.”

“That could take forever.” Saba went back to the couch. David stood at the head of it, attending him, but now he left Saba and came across the room to Paula’s side.

“They have to go back to their base sometime,” Ymma said. He leaned against the wall, a few feet away from Leno.

“Obviously they have bases in the Asteroids,” Saba said.

Beside Paula, David murmured, “Are you still angry?”

“No,” she said. She put her hand on his arm, relieved at his friendliness. The men were arguing. She watched her son’s face. “I still love you, David, but there’s nothing between me and him any more.”

“That isn’t what he wants,” he said, stubbornly. “That doesn’t have to be so.”

“If you really want to find the Martians,” Tanuojin said, in the middle of the room, “don’t send Leno to look for them.”

Paula’s attention snapped back to the Styth Council. Leno strode up the room. “What did you have in mind, Creep?”

“Shut up,” Saba said. He palmed Tanuojin roughly on the shoulder. Leno’s blunt head was thrust forward, and he came straight up to Tanuojin.

“I’m sick of—”

“I said shut up,” Saba said. “The meeting’s over. You’re all dismissed.” He went up between Leno and Tanuojin, one hand on Tanuojin’s arm, but his face to Leno. “Just get me some approximate idea where the Martians are.”

Leno was swollen with temper. He and Tanuojin glared at each other over Saba’s shoulder. The other men were filing out. Paula turned to David again.

“It is so. You’d better accept it, because that’s how I want it.”

“Mother—”

“Vida,” Saba said, and the boy wheeled. Saba nodded at the door. Leno had gone. “Go with Merkhiz, in case he has messages for me.”

“Yes, sir,” David said. He went out of the room at a trot.

“Stay away from Leno,” Saba said to Tanuojin. He gave his lyo a shove for emphasis. “How are you doing with Dr. Savenia? Can she help us with Newrose?”

“She’s coming along.”

“Bring her here. Let me see her.” Saba nodded at Junna, behind his father. “Go get her.”

Tanuojin began, “No. I—” and his head turned, his gaze went to Paula. “All right.” He nodded to Junna. “Go fetch her here.”

Paula folded her arms over her chest. She was about to be the object of a demonstration. Junna left. Saba wandered around the room, looking at the illusion pictures on the wall. He came up beside her, so close she was uncomfortable, but she did not move away. She was not afraid of him.

“Any word from Vribulo?”

Tanuojin shook his head. “They are being very, very unconcerned. You know Machou.”

The door slid open and Marus came into the room. “Akellar.”

Cam Savenia walked past him. Paula wheeled. It had been ten days since Tanuojin had found her. She still wore white: loose trousers and a tunic. Paula had never seen her without makeup before. Her face looked peeled.

Tanuojin stood with his hand on Saba’s shoulder. Cam went into the middle of the room, beside the couch, her arms at her sides.

“Dr. Savenia.”