Part 26 (1/2)

Her melancholy irritated him. ”That woman's not your twin,” he said. ”Her name's Darien Riis, not Rhani; she's not from Chabad; she's a computer technician; and her eyes aren't gold, they're brown.” He paused. ”And anyway, she's not free.”

Sudden mischief lit Rhani's eyes. ”My dear, the resemblance is striking, oh my yes!” She laughed. ”You're right. I'm being stupid.”

Dana wondered if he dared tell her about Tori Lamonica. ”Her hair's redder than yours, too.”

”I know,” Rhani said. ”She doesn't look like me. But -- you couldn't know this -- she looks like what I used to look like. My hair was redder when I was younger.” She rubbed her chin. ”Zed's fascination with her -- disturbs me.” With evident pain, she said, ”He wouldn't talk to me the whole way home.”

”At all?”

She nodded. Suddenly she came back to the com-unit keyboard. She punched a set of symbols, and the screen printed out: RECORDS OF THE YAGO NET: CURRENT YEAR: HOLDING. She sat on the chair and keyed in further instructions. The screen said: CARGO ROSTER: HUMAN. There was a pause, and then the screen flashed, in bright green letters, IDENTIFY.

She pressed her thumb to the screen.

Dana said, ”Are those the Net records?”

She nodded. ”They're only accessible to authorized persons. Me, Zed, the Net staff, the Barracks staff, the Clinic -- ”

Dana said, ”That's a lot of people.” He remembered what his first computer instructor had said: ”_Anything that anyone can put into a computer, someone else can find. All you need is the time to look_.” ”I suppose I'm there, too.”

”Yes,” she said, ”you are.” The screen began to fill with words. Dana read them over Rhani's shoulder. DARIEN RIIS; SX: F; AGE: 26; PROFESSION: COMTECH; LENGTH OF CONTRACT: 4 YRS; PLANET OF ORIGIN: ENCHANTER; DORAZINE.

DOSAGE: 1.25 TID: CRM STATUS REGIS: 79R. Rhani frowned and touched a key. The green letters did not change.

”Are you looking for something more?” Dana asked. He was fascinated.

”There should be information about her offense,” Rhani said. ”I forget what 'Status 79' means, but 'R' denotes restricted information. I wonder what's going on.”

”Can you override it?”

”My thumb print should have keyed in an automatic override. Whoever fed the computer the original data made an error. Or else there's a defect in the override circuit.” She tapped the keyboard. ”I've asked it to define 'Status 79.'”.

The screen printed: STATUS 79: PERSONAL VIOLENCE AGAINST INDIVIDUAL ADULT.

”Oh,” said Rhani softly.

Dana found himself wondering what circ.u.mstance or combination of them had driven a redheaded twenty-six-year-old Enchantean computer tech to an act of personal violence. Rhani touched a fingertip to the slick plastic screen, as if trying to feel the pinpoints of light. Then she erased the words. ”You're right,” she said. She swung the chair around. ”Right about what?”

”She's not my twin. My twin would never commit a crime of violence against an individual.”

”How do you know that?” Dana said.

Rhani rubbed her chin. ”Because I wouldn't.” She rose. ”Thank you for your comfort,” she said.

She looked very solitary, standing in this room which smelled of her, her voice husky, even, and formal: Dana wanted to go to her, to hold her, to feel her upright body curve and soften against his.... He couldn't do it now. Now she was not his lover Rhani, but Domna Rhani Yago. She doesn't need a twin, he thought; she herself is twins, as Zed is, as I am, surgeon/s.a.d.i.s.t, slave/Starcaptain.

Someone knocked sharply on the door, and then slid it back. Zed leaned in. ”Rhani-ka, I'll be at the Clinic if you want me,” he said. He closed the door before she could answer. Startled, Dana glanced at Rhani. It was not like Zed to be so brusque with her. She had not moved, but her shoulders were hunched as if against a blow, and her face was thinned and drawn.

Dana went to her and put both arms around her. She laid her head against his chest. He could feel her breathing deeply -- finally she sighed and stepped away. ”I'm all right,” she said, with something of a child's defiance in her tone.

”I know you are,” he said.

She brushed her hair back from her face with both hands and lifted her face to his.

The kiss was lingering. As they disengaged, Rhani sighed -- with pleasure, with melancholy? Dana didn't know. Her glance at him seemed oddly calculating. Was she working out the next time she could take him to bed? He felt as if she had made some kind of decision about him, a decision she did not intend to tell him about.

She thumbed the intercom. ”Binkie? What is your file number on Loras U- Ellen?”

Binkie's voice said, ”Number 1216, Rhani-ka.”

”Thank you.” She walked to the com-unit and sat before it. A little apologetically, she said to Dana, ”I still have work to do.”

She tapped the com-unit keys. ”You remember I asked you about Loras U- Ellen? Well, the reason I asked you if you knew the name is that he appears to be a drug dealer.”

Joltingly, Dana remembered Tori. ”I told you when I first met you, Rhani- ka,” he said, ”I don't really know the drug dealers.”

”Yes. That's right.” She continued to touch keys. ”I'd like something cool to drink,” she said. ”Would you ask Corrios to make me up some fruit punch?”

She was Domna Rhani Yago again. ”Yes, Rhani-ka,” Dana murmured.

The kitchen was cool and empty. Dana wondered where everybody was.

”Corrios?” he called. No one answered, but a noise from the dining alcove drew his attention there. He walked toward it. Halfway there, he met Amri. Her blue eyes were reddened, and she was sniffling.

”Kitten, what is it?” he said. He curled an arm around her, as he would have embraced a weeping brother or sister. ”What's wrong?”

She said, ”Binkie yelled at me.”

”What? Why?”

”Because I asked him who he was talking to, on the steps.”

”What?”

”Someone came to the back and they talked. I just wanted to know who it was. I didn't mean to snoop.” She knuckled one eye.

”Is that what he said?” She nodded. Dana contemplated finding the secretary/slave and telling him as nastily as possible what he thought of this. Amri snuffled again. ”Never mind, kitten,” he said, wondering for the hundredth time how old she was, and what she could possibly have done to make her a slave on Chabad. ”He's a _kamsharrah_.”

”What's that mean?”

”It means he's the sort of man who would sell his mother's body to be eaten by goats.”

”Ugh!” Amri made a face. ”That's horrible. Is it a Pellish word?”

”Uh-huh.”

”I don't think he is,” she said. She looked suddenly thoughtful. ”I think he cares a lot about his family. He's from Enchanter. When he first came here -- to the estate, it was -- he showed me a picture of his little girl that he carried with him all the time. But then he tried to run away, and Zed -- ” She paused. ”You know. After that, he stopped talking about his family, about anything.” She blinked. ”I need to wash my face.”

He hugged her, and let go. ”Rhani wants some fruit punch,” he said. ”Is Corrios out?”

”He's asleep,” Amri said. ”He likes to nap around noon. I'll fix it.” She grinned suddenly, and gave him a little push. ”Go back to her. I can bring it up.”