Диана Дуэйн: Games Wizards Play

Nita smiled at her. “From you,” she said, “that’s some concession.”

A movement off to one side caught Nita’s eye. She turned and saw Mehrnaz Moon-bouncing in their direction, and within a few moments she had joined Nita on her knees next to Dairine and thrown her arms around her. “I told you,” she said, “I told you how awesome you were. Do you believe me now?” She turned to Nita. “She went in the Sun! That is so amazing!”

Dairine laughed. “You think that was amazing,” she said to Nita, “you should have heard me tell off her aunt. That was something.”

Mehrnaz clapped her hands in delight. “It truly was! You should have seen her face afterward. It would have curdled milk for hours. ”

“The only problem I have with that now,” Dairine said, “is that it’s probably going to make more trouble for you with your family.”

“It’s not ,” Mehrnaz said. “There are people in my family who have been wanting to do that for decades. And Irina called my mother herself and told her—” Mehrnaz blushed. “Well, a lot of good things about me. So it’s all going to be okay. The World Earthquake Management Group has already messaged me about my spell, they want to use it as a jumping-off point for some other implementations . . .” Then her expression changed and she said nervously, “But I have to present next and you won’t be here!”

“Listen,” Dairine said, “you know I’m always right. Didn’t I tell you that you were going to make a difference in people’s lives? And see, you’re doing it already. So now I’m telling you you’re going to be fine, and I’m right about that too. So go get an energy drink or something and get ready to present. I have to go, I have to . . . but I’ll watch on the live manual hookup.” She patted Mehrnaz’s back. “And don’t forget your spell-casting thing! You’re such a star. ”

“You made me shine,” Mehrnaz said, and leaned over and kissed Dairine’s forehead.

Dairine smiled. “Go on, get out of here before I faint some more.”

Mehrnaz bounced up, made a little baby-wave at Dairine, bowed to everyone else, and vanished.

“I think that’s all the cute I can stand for one day,” Dairine said. “Can I please go home and have some coffee before I leave for Wellakh?”

Nita rolled her eyes at her dad. “She’s all yours . . .”

Nita wandered back to where Kit had been watching this farewell and others. “I’ve just about had it,” she said. “Too much excitement. Shall we stick around for Mehrnaz and the other guy, or should we wander?”

“You could convince me,” Kit said—and then paused, suddenly going stiff and tense. “Except . . .”

Nita stared at him. “What’s the matter?”

Kit pointed. About fifty yards away, a tall dark shape draped all in shadows was standing quite still and watching them.

Nita laughed. “Feel around you,” she said. “It’s not our old friend. This is . . . someone different. Come on . . .”

She bounced over to him, Kit following her. When they came to a stop and the dust was settling, Nita said, “Pluto, Kit. Kit, Pluto.” She smiled. “See, I got it in the right order that time.”

Kit’s eyes widened. “Excellent Planetary,” he said, with a bow, “greetings, and may our orbits cross without too great a perturbation.”

He bowed to Kit in turn. “Always a pleasure to meet a cousin who is learned in the protocols,” he said. “I hope you’ll forgive me.” He turned to Nita. “Third time’s the charm, they say. May I have a word?”

“Sure,” she said, mystified, and moved a short distance away.

He followed her in his drift of shadows. “My own sphere calls me,” he said, “and I won’t be here much longer: just until the last two have presented. But before I leave I feel I should warn you that some of us who’ve been here have not merely been scouting new talent. Some of us are investigating possible future colleagues.”

Nita stared.

The shadowy shape looked down at her with an amused glint in its darker-than-dark eyes. “There is a sort of . . . I think in your idiom the phrase would be ‘steering committee.’ Those of us who have experience of more than one solar system lead it, as we’re thought to be less invested in the inevitable in-system politicking: more objective. In years when the Invitational’s held, normally one or another of us will be in attendance, looking for wizards who might be suited to such a role. Ideally, these are individuals who are not overawed by size or power, who’ve survived fairly broad or deep experience acquired rather early. Frequent change of specialties can be an indicator in some cases, or dissatisfaction with one area of study that leads to research into another. Sometimes personal crises are involved, but that’s not necessarily a diagnostic.”

“Uh. Pluto . . .”

“Call me Aidoneus if you like,” said the Planetary, enthroning itself on a nearby rock. (There was no way, Nita thought, in which the way it settled itself in majesty amidst its enfurling shadows could merely be thought of as “sitting down.”) “Still one of your words, but perhaps a bit more targeted. The other word has more to do with concept surrounding wealth. Not really my department . . .”

“Wow. Aidoneus. Okay.” Nita was fighting to keep about four different things from coming out of her mouth, any one of which would have made her sound like a needy six-year-old if it turned out that she was wrong. “Uh, when you say ‘such a role’—”

He said nothing, merely looked at her gravely.

You’re not gonna help me out at all here, are you , Nita thought. No, of course not. I’m gonna make myself look like an idiot in front of one of the oldest bodies in the Solar System. Probably older than the Sun. Oh, who the hell cares? Compared to this guy, Jupiter really is a spotty teenager. “I just want to make sure I’ve got the right end of this,” Nita said. “‘Colleagues?’ As in Planetaries.”

“Candidates for the position,” Aidoneus said. “Yes. There are routinely a number of beings in differing degrees of candidacy, or training for it, as no inhabited planet can be left without a Planetary for very long. Yet in the normal course of events, as I think you might guess, the position is hardly something that happens to someone overnight. Not even as I reckon overnight.” There was a dry smile somewhere inside that darkness: Nita could sense it. “Aptitude is the main issue. Though to be sure it needs a certain type of personality; or a range of personality traits that work together. A certain flexibility.”

“You’re thinking I might have that,” Nita said.

“You’d know best,” the dark Planetary murmured. “In any case, it’s something to think about in the long term, as you pursue other avenues of practice.”

“You wouldn’t even be mentioning this if you didn’t think I had a chance, would you?”

“It’s never wise to raise hopes without some possibility of them being fulfilled,” said Pluto. “Entropy is thereby increased. You might never come to that position, despite a lifetime of candidacy. You also know, I suspect, that the work is dangerous and wearing, and that Planetaries on your world can be relatively short-lived if circumstance and their own natures join to conspire against them.”

Nita did know that. She thought of Angelina Pellegrino, Planetary at twenty-two and dead at thirty-seven. She thought of Atiehwa:ta and Delacroix and Henoseki, who’d been mighty in the position and had fallen before their time. But also there were people like Asegaff and Davidson who’d worked as Planetaries and lived to a great old age, dying old and full of honor, among wizards at least. And is there any other kind of honor I’d care about?