Free The Sardonyx Net by Elizabeth A. Lynn Page B

awake?” said Immeld.  
    Amri said, “Zed took the tray from me to bring in himself.”  
    â€œSomeone was in here last night.”  
    â€œThat was Rhani,” said Amri. “She brought him something to eat.” She pointed at Dana.  
    â€œWhat time was that?”  
    â€œAbout three hours after sunset,” said Binkie. He said, ostensibly to Dana, “Immeld likes to know everything.”  
    â€œSo do you,” said Cara tartly.  
    â€œDoes anyone want more cheese?” asked the cook. No one did. She put the platter in a cooler. Casually she said, “What's new this morning?” She looked at Binkie.  
    â€œNothing's new,” he said. “Rhani's working.”  
    â€œOn what?” asked the cook.  
    â€œI don't talk about Rhani's work,” said Binkie. “You know that.”  
    Immeld chuckled, unabashed at her prying. “I just wondered.”  
    â€œHow many more days before they go to Abanat?” asked Amri.  
    â€œTen,” said Binkie.  
    â€œI want to go with them,” Amri said. She kicked the rungs of her stool. “I like Abanat.”  
    â€œI don't,” said Binkie.  
    Diffidently, Dana said, “What's the Chabad calendar?”  
    Binkie said, “Nine days to a week, five weeks to a month, ten months to the year. Every fifth year they add two days to the last month of the year.”  
    Immeld said, “And they don't celebrate birthdays at all on Chabad. I miss not having a birthday. I used to get two: Standard birthday and—”  
    â€œImmey!” said Cara. She frowned at the younger woman. “We don't discuss the past.”  
    Immeld shrugged. “I do miss it,” she said stubbornly.  
    Dana nodded. Most colony planets used two time standards: the year/month/day as it was measured on the planet, and Standard, which was the old calendar of Earth. On some planets this meant that people had two birthdays to celebrate, since maturity was defined on most worlds by the Standard age of fourteen. Some colonies did away with all birthdays: you were simply informed when you reached fourteen Standard. On Pellin, there was a small ceremony.  
    Immeld said, “Rhani and Zed always go to Abanat for the Auction. Rhani always takes one of the house slaves with her to the city. One besides Binkie, that is; he goes every year. Timithos won't go; he hates to leave his garden.”  
    â€œHow many people live here?” Dana asked.  
    â€œWe four,” said Immeld, “and Timithos. And them, of course, and now you. What were you bought for?”  
    â€œI don't know,” said Dana. “They didn't tell me.”  
    A bell rang, two-toned, ping-pong . Binkie stepped to a speaker grid in the wall. “Yes, Rhani-ka.” The others fell silent. Rhani's voice was a jumble, too low to hear. Binkie murmured, “Yes, Rhani-ka.” He turned from the speaker to look at Dana. “She wants you.”  
    Dana swallowed hastily. “Where do I go?”  
    Amri said, “I'll take you. I have to get the tray.” He followed her up the marble staircase. Along the second-story landing, Dana counted seven doors. Amri stopped at the third one. She tapped, and grinned up at Dana. “You don't have to be scared of her,” she said encouragingly. “She's very nice.”  
    â€œCome in,” called Rhani. Dana obeyed. The room was light and airy. The rug was white, the curtains were white, the walls were blue. Rhani wore blue. She sat in a cream-colored chair whose rounded back and arms flowed about her like a mantle. Zed stood behind her, one hand brushing Rhani's hair. Dana faced them. His heart began to pound.  
    Amri took the tray off the footstool. “Do you want more, Rhani-ka?” she asked.  
    â€œThank you, no,” said Rhani. She smiled at the child, then turned to gaze at her