Part 11 (1/2)

Zed said, ”Will you at least think about it, Rhani?”

She sighed. ”I'll think about it, Zed-ka.”

With the discipline that years of practice had taught her, she put Tsurada from her mind. In her bedroom she took out the letter from the Gemit spy. Using pen and paper, she drafted what she wanted to tell him, which was, to listen, report, and when he could discreetly, to foment trouble. Life was going ill with Family Yago; why should it go well with Family Dur? Binkie was at the computer, using the display screen. He was very pale, and she wondered if Zed had been at him for some imagined or trivial wrong. ”Binkie,” she said. He turned around to face her. ”What's the matter?”

His hands were shaking. ”Rhani-ka, I -- I seem to have made an error.

Days ago you instructed me to take steps to find the source of the threats. I drafted a letter to the police, with details. I thought I'd sent it -- but it's still here, on display mode, which means I never sent it at all. If I had, the attack, the bomb -- none of that might have happened!” His tone lifted shrilly.

”Stop that,” Rhani said, sharply. ”You didn't drop the bomb. You simply made a mistake.”

”But -- ”

”No, that's enough. What's done is done.” Coldly, she watched him as he fought himself under control.

”You -- you won't -- ” He gulped for air.

”Tell my brother? No, why should I?” she said. Weak with relief, he sagged against the bedroom wall.

She picked up the Gemit report, heartsick. d.a.m.n Zed! She had never told him, but she had guessed the night before it happened that Binkie was going to run.

I should never have let Zed do what he did, she thought, and then sighed, knowing that the compulsion driving her brother was too strong for him to break and that under certain circ.u.mstances she, even she, could not control him. Again she glanced at Binkie. Fear was effective, but it destroyed all trust. She needed her slaves to trust her. She would use dorazine if she wanted to be served by a houseful of automatons.

_”WE CAN DO IT, TOO”_.

The mail bubble, arriving as scheduled the next morning, brought amid the mail a dirty envelope with a piece of paper sealed inside it. It was signed, ”The Free Folk of Chabad.”

Rhani, reading the ugly scrawl, grew angrier and angrier, until she could no longer sit in her chair. She thrust the sc.r.a.p at Binkie. ”Here. Give it to the police when they are done.” She went onto the terrace. Below her, the police hunted through the bushes for evidence. She made herself lean, relax. The dawn plants, she noticed, were wilting into the brick. Amri had neglected them to sit with Dana.

One of the police officers was coming toward the house. She went inside.

”Give me that thing,” she said to Binkie. Holding it at a corner, she took it downstairs. The policeman had just entered the house.

”Domna,” he said, ”We're done. Sorry to have troubled you.”

”Did you find anything?” she asked.

He shook his head. ”Not a thing.”

”Here.” She gave him the letter. ”It came in this morning's mail. You'd better give it to Officer Tsurada.”

”Yes, ma'am.” He produced a plastic bag from somewhere and thrust the letter inside. ”Thank you.” He nodded to Immeld, who was smiling at him from a kitchen stool. ”Thank you for the lemonade.” As he stepped across the threshold, he turned back. ”Domna, I just want to say -- you sure have a lovely house.”

Rhani smiled. ”Thank you, Officer.” She followed him outside, wondering idly where her brother was.

She found him by the crater, bare-chested, leaning on a shovel and talking to Timithos. As she walked toward them, she found herself admiring his smooth skin and the play of the muscles in his shoulders. ”What are you doing, Zed-ka?” she said.

He grinned. ”Working off anger,” he said. Bending, he shoveled a load of earth back into the crater. ”It doesn't help to be angry.”

”Yes,” Rhani said, ”I noticed. I got a letter this morning from the Free Folk of Chabad. It said: ”We can do it, too.”

Sweat ran down Zed's sides. ”What did you do with it?”

”Gave it to the police, told them to give it to Officer Tsurada.” Zed scowled. ”Nice of them to sign their handiwork. They might just as well have taken an ad-spot in PIN.”

Rhani scratched her chin. ”You think they mean it,” she said.

”Of course they mean it! Look at it!” He pointed with his chin at the scorched and broken earth.

”Why didn't they do it, then?” Rhani said.

”What?”

”They blew up a piece of the lawn, when they could easily have dropped that bomb right on my head.” Rhani stretched her arms out. ”They don't want to kill me, Zed-ka. They want something else.”

Zed's face was thoughtful. ”Hmm. What do you think it is?”

”To frighten me, perhaps?” Rhani picked up a clod of dirt. She squeezed it tightly, feeling the rich soil compress. It smelled good. ”I don't know.”

Letting it fall, she dusted her palms.

”Romantics,” said Zed. ”Fools.” He chopped shortly at the earth with his shovel. ”Rhani-ka, you should get a spade and join me, it's good exercise.”

”I hate exercise.”

”I know. You used to promise to go ice climbing with me sometime. Have you noticed that I no longer ask?”

”I meant to,” she said sadly, knowing that it was too late, she would never go ice climbing with her brother on the slopes of the Abanat icebergs. She hunched her shoulders.

Zed's motion stopped. ”That d.a.m.n fool!” Rhani looked swiftly up. One arm around Amri, Dana Ikoro was maneuvering his way through the kitchen door. Zed swore, and let the shovel fall. ”I'll be right back.” He strode toward the house. Rhani opened her mouth to call him, and then shut it.

Dana's weight was too much for Amri to support. As Zed reached his side, he groped for the wall and, knees wobbling, began to fall. Zed caught him under the armpits. 'What do you think you're doing?” he said.

Dana folded to the ground. He squinted at Zed's face. ”Walking.”

”Who told you walking would be good for you? You're concussed, do you know that? How many fingers am I holding up?” Zed did not try to keep the irritation from his voice. Dana concentrated on the splayed fingers.

”Three.”

”Humph.” He had not expected the answer to be right. ”Let me look at your head.” Dana bent his neck. Zed probed gently around the purple lump. Dana winced. ”How does it feel?”

”It feels as big as my fist.”

”It isn't. Do you have a headache?”

”No.”