Part 5 (1/2)
”d.a.m.n,” said Shan, heading sedately for the garage. Two minutes to shave at the very least, or he might as well leave Araceli home on Trilsday and watch the race from the stands.
Most skimmers carried a crew of two; he'd been foolish to think he could run singleton. He needed another pilot for second-and where was he to come up with one in so short a time? Worse, how to find time for proper training?
”d.a.m.n,” said Shan again, yanking off the goggled helmet and dropping it to the floor. He locked the board and jumped out.
Perched on the fence directly opposite was a young gallant: fine white s.h.i.+rt and soft dark trousers; a pilot's leather jacket thrown negligently across the fence at his side. He held a gla.s.s of wine in his hand.
Shan stretched his long legs, grinning in welcome.
”Well, this is a surprise,” he said in Terran. ”How long have you been here?”
”I saw your run,” Val Con replied in the same tongue. ”Wine?”
”Thanks.” Shan said and sighed. ”I didn't know you were a racing enthusiast.”
”I heard there was something new,” Val Con said. ”A pilot likes to keep abreast...”
”Always nice to learn, ”agreed Shan. ”And an education can be had in the oddest places. Staying at the s.p.a.ceport, are you, Val Con?”
The younger man lifted an eyebrow. ”Do I pry into your affairs?”
”Well, now, that's what's odd. Normally you don't. But here I am, where I have taken care not to announce myself, out of respect for our more proper relations; and now here you are-”
”For which I should be thanked,” Val Con interrupted. ”Aunt Kareen is quite upset. She was on the brink of sending Pat Rin to fetch you home, and was persuaded to allow me to come instead. My aunt,”
he added earnestly, ”thinks you an outrageous rantipole.”
Shan snorted. ”I'd rather be a rantipole than a pompous a.s.s.””Yes,” soothed Val Con, ”I know you would.”
”Cultivating an edge, brother?”
”It is also to be recalled,” said Val Con dampingly, ”that we are but cousins.”
”Dear me!” Shan cried. ”I apprehend that Kareen was in the throes of a Mood!”
He sipped, sketched a bow. ”Forgive the sermon, denubia. Better you than Pat Rin, whatever news.” He laughed. ”G.o.ds, only imagine the scene! And you would have had to fine me, too! Or I would have had to fine me-and very angry I'd have been at myself.” He raised his gla.s.s. ”Brother, I salute you: you've saved me a rare chewing out!”
”No less than my fraternal duty.”
”But you didn't come all this way,” pursued Shan, ”just to report Kareen's opinion of me? If so, a wasted journey.”
”My aunt's health is in decline from worry over the scandal,” Val Con said. ”Fear of the damage you do Korval's reputation will allow her to neither eat nor drink. One understands the cure for her pitiful condition is for you to come home and behave yourself. She's been at Nova for weeks-with variations upon the theme...”
”She's what? At my sister? In my house? By what right? She's not yos'Galan.”
”For the good of the Clan,” Val Con said, lips twitching.
”Bah, what nonsense!” cried Shan, and fell silent, sipping. After a time he looked up, white brows drawn over light eyes. ”And what does our sister say? or you, for that matter? It seems I've heard too much of what Kareen thinks and nothing at all of what Nova and Val Con think.”
”Nova has given me a double-cantra to lay upon the race Trilsday-this-Shan yos'Galan to take any of the four highest honors.”
”Did she?” Shan grinned like a boy. ”We'll make a human being out of her yet, Val con. And you?”
”I?” He lifted a brow. ”I'd like a ride in your skimmer, please, brother.”
WORDS SCROLLED across the screen set into the table. Nova read and sighed, breakfast forgotten before her.
”Araceli,” the race report continued, ”piloted and co-manned by Shan yos'Galan and Val Con yos'Phelium, Clan Korval, earned distinction by turning in the slowest finis.h.i.+ng time on the day. Neither team member is a professional racer and the time-loss taken when a nerf from first-placing Tolanda sent Araceli off the course was never regained. It is to the amateur team's credit that Araceli remained upright during the mishap and, due to a bit of quick readjustment by the secondman, able to return to the course...”
”It's that stupid braking system,” Val Con said over her head. ”All very well to have no electronics ons.h.i.+p, but why the brakes must be the most primitive of hand-turned vents is a mystery.”
His voice was edged with wry irritation. Nova turned her head, but he was at the buffet, clattering covers and pouring tea.”How's your arm?” she asked.
He glanced over his shoulder, smiling. ”Better a bruise than tumbling out of control. And not bad enough to bother with the 'doc.” He gathered up cup and plate and sat down across from her. ”it's an odd thing, Nova-the craft is so light that my hand on the ground was sufficient pivot-point. If there were a more efficient way of braking... As it's arranged now, the pilot may either steer or brake. And he may not brake quickly.”
She glanced up at him. ”Where is Shan, by the way?”
”At the park, seeing to Araceli's packing. He plans to race at the Little Festival.”
”He does?” Dismay sounded clearly in her voice.
Val Con lifted a brow. ”No faith, denubia? It's not is very good. If we could only resolve the braking-Ah- Nova followed his gaze out the window and stifled a groan as she saw the too-familiar shape of Lady Kareen's landau come to rest across the drive.
”Does my aunt read tine racing papers, do you think?” Val Con asked, eyes glinting mischief over the rim of his cup.
”Now, brother, have pity! Don't make her any worse.”
”A bad little craft-and Shan no! Before breakfast?”
He rounded his eyes, face etched in surprise. ”Why, Lady Nova! As if my aunt were ever other than perfectly delightful!”
”Val Con-”
”The Right n.o.ble Lady Kareen yos'Phelium,” announced the housebot from the doorway.
”Good morning, Aunt,” Val Con, the Low Tongue all good cheer. ”Will you take breakfast with us?'
”Thank you,” said the Right n.o.ble, ”but no.” The bell-tones of the High Tongue were gelid. ”And you, my Lord, might best wish to speak with me in the study. What I have to say is scarcely fit for a breakfast-table conversation.”
”I'm a-tremble,” said her nephew. ”But I fear you will have a small wait, Aunt, if you must have the study. I am exceedingly hungry and feel I should finish my meal before embarking upon an exhaustive interview.” He picked up his tongs to readdress breakfast.
There was a pause, growing painfully longer. A glance from beneath sheltering lashes showed Nova that Lady Kareen's face was rigid with anger. Val Con was proceeding with his meal.
”Very well,” said Lady Kareen presently. ”if you will have it so.” She moved to the nearest chair and stood, eyes on her nephew's bent head.
Horrified, Nova saw Val Con glance up, frown and raise his hand to the hovering robot.