Free Return to Eddarta by Randall Garrett Page A

only things worth discussing these days, old friend, and I for one hear enough about them both during the Council meetings.” He turned to me, and pressed my shoulder. “I suspect that telling Zaddorn the truth about the Ra’ira belongs on the long list of good things you have done for our city, Rikardon. I apologize for my outburst. I will inform the Council of his knowledge tomorrow and I—um—”
    “I’m sure Zaddorn understands why he wasn’t told at the beginning,” I said.
    The old man smiled. “Thank you for trying,” he said, “but I see no way out of it. I shall have to apologize to Zaddorn.” His eyes twinkled. “I find it hard to predict whether I shall choke on the words, or Zaddorn will die of shock. If your mission were not so urgent, I would invite you to stay and watch.”
    After Ferrathyn left, Thanasset and I returned to the sitting room and our glasses of barut.
    “Zaddorn told me that Ferrathyn had changed,” I said. “I see it, too—he looks older, and that flash of anger was unlike him.”
    “The crisis has put him under great strain,” Thanasset said. “And Zaddorn has not helped the situation. He knew the story about vineh illness was a lie the moment he heard it, and he has been pressing Council members at every opportunity for the truth.”
    “Challenging Ferrathyn’s leadership,” I said, “just when he felt it had to be strongest, and just when the theft of the Ra’ira had weakened it. Keeping Zaddorn ignorant probably has been a symbol to Ferrathyn, a confirmation of his position as Chief Supervisor. I pulled that symbol away from him by telling Zaddorn the truth.” I shook my head. “No wonder he blew up at me. Apologize for me, the next time you see him, will you?”
    “I will not,” Thanasset said. “You were right. Even Ferrathyn saw that, as soon as he calmed down. Not only have you given Zaddorn help in the defense of the city, but you have, I hope, put that symbol to rest, so that Zaddorn and the Council can begin to work together again.”
    “What is the Council doing, now that the duty of watching the vineh with the Ra’ira is nonexistent?” I asked.
    Thanasset laughed bitterly. “We are paying the price of luxury,” he said. “Organizing work crews to do the cleaning and repairing the vineh used to do. Spending hours each day answering the complaints of people who are impatient with dirty streets, outraged by the idea of cleaning out their own bath filters, or afraid for their safety. Trying to teach people the value of their own labor.”
    He sighed.
    “It would be a thousand times easier with the Ra’ira,” he said. “I believe I understand how sorely the Kings were tempted.”
    The look of shock on my face brought a real laugh from him.
    “I am joking,” he assured me. “The Council has reached unanimous agreement: When the Ra’ira is returned, the vineh will be guided westward, to an area where other vineh colonies are located. Then the Ra’ira will be destroyed.”
    “How?” I asked.
    “How? Smashed, I suppose. Why do you ask?”
    “Because Serkajon threw it into the rakor forge, and it wasn’t harmed,” I said.
    Thanasset gaped at me. We had talked of the time I had spent in the All-Mind, and of what I had learned from the lifememories of Zanek, the first King, and Serkajon, the Sharith Captain who had brought about the end of the Kingdom. Somehow, the detail of Serkajon, while Zanek was Visiting in his body, trying and failing to destroy the blue gemstone, had been omitted.
    After a moment, Thanasset threw off his surprise. “A way will be found,” he assured me grimly. “The Council failed its charge by using the monstrous thing. The only way to make up for that is to destroy it. Just bring it here,” he said. “We will find a way to insure it will never be used again.”
    In Ricardo’s world, it would have been a tearful farewell. As it was, Milda shifted unpredictably from looking calm and brave to a tearless, desperate