Free The Summer Queen by Joan D. Vinge Page B

long,
loose coat, pulled out the huskball he had carried with him like a kind of
talisman ever since he was a boy. He tossed it at Ananke with no warning.
Ananke caught it easily, flipped it into the air, over his shoulder; made it
disappear and reappear between his hands. Kedalion grinned, and caught it,
barely, as the boy suddenly threw it back to him. “Okay,” he said. “You work my
next run with me, we’ll see how it goes. At least it’ll earn you passage to somewhere
else. I’ll pay you ten percent of the profit when we get there. You can make a
start with that.”
    The boy grinned too, nodding. “I have all my things here. I’ll
get them—”
    “Relax.” Kedalion put up a hand. “I’ve still got to find us
a cargo. And besides, I just got here; I won’t be going anywhere for a while.”
He glanced at Shalfaz. She smiled, and his bones melted. “Just be here when I
want to leave.”
    Ananke nodded again, looking at them with an expression that
was knowing and somehow full of pain all at once. Kedalion remembered what
Shalfaz had said about the boy, and wondered. Ananke began to get up from his
chair.
    “With my compliments,” a soft, slightly husky voice said, behind
Kedalion’s back. “And my apologies.”
    Ananke looked up, sat down again, surprise filling his face.
Shalfaz shrank back in her seat, her hands fluttering.
    Kedalion turned in his own seat, to find the offworlder who
had challenged the Ondineans standing behind him. The man grinned disarmingly,
taking in the tableau of mixed emotions as if he were used to it. He probably
was, Kedalion thought. He was tall, but slender; Kedalion’s memory of the fight
seemed to hold someone a lot larger, more massive. But there was no mistaking
those eyes—bluer than his own, probing him with the intensity of laser light
when they met his. The offworlder looked away first, as if he was aware of the
effect his gaze had on strangers.
    He set something down on the tabletop between the three of
them—another bottle. Kedalion stared at it in disbelief. The bottle was an
exotic, stylized flower form, layers of silver petals tipped with gold. Pure
silver, pure gold .... Kedalion reached toward it, touched it, incredulous.
Only one thing came in a bottle like that; they called it the water of life. It
was the most expensive liquor available anywhere in the Hegemony, named for the
far rarer drug that came from Tiamat, a drug which kept the absurdly rich young
at unbelievable expense. The real thing was no longer available at any price,
now that Tiamat’s Gate was closed for the next century. Kedalion had never
expected to taste this imitation of it any sooner than he tasted the real
thing.
    “Apologies—?” he remembered to say, finally; he tore his
eyes from the silver-gilt bottle to look up at the stranger again. “I should be
sending you a bottle.” He shrugged, realizing that his own smile was on crooked
as he looked into that face again.
    The stranger grunted. “Ravien tells me I should have let you
settle your own quarrel,” he murmured. “I made an ass of myself tonight. I’m
not in a very good mood The gallows grin came back; But then. I guess I never am
.. his fingers drummed against his thigh. “Sorry.”
    “Nothing to forgive,” Kedalion said, thinking that if the
stranger hadn’t intervened, even the genuine water of life wouldn’t have been
enough to revive him. “Believe me.” He looked at the silver bottle again, still
not quite believing his eyes. He picked it up. almost afraid to touch it, and
held it out to the stranger.
    “Keep it,” the stranger said. “I insist.”
    Kedalion looked into his eyes, and didn’t argue. He pulled
the bottle toward him, his hands proving its reality again, and unset the seal
with his thumb. Sudden fragrance filled his head like perfume, made his mouth
water, filled his eyes with tears of pure pleasure. “Ye gods,” he murmured, “I
had no idea ....” He passed the bottle around the table,