Administrative Tower
He had rested, after a fashion. Which was to say, he had taken several sequential periods of board rest, across about half his sleep shift, a stratagem he had adopted to cheat the nightmares.
In that, he was successful, but board rest was not real sleep, and he was aware that he was borrowing heavily against his future. He would have to sleep eventually.
But, he did not quite dare it, yet.
In the periods between rest, he had reviewed his actions since awakening, the arrival of Inkirani Yo, and the death of Tinsori Light.
Objectively, he could see no flaw, nothing done that would endanger the New Light, the clan, or his companions. He had long suspected that whatever seeds the Light had planted would only quicken once he ventured out into the wide universe. While that was the veriest guess, based on no slightest shred of fact, yet it seemed to be the case.
Satisfied on that head, he initiated one last session of board rest. When he roused from that, he showered, and went to the tower, to find that Lorith had herself taken a short shift, leaving Tocohl on-deck, with instructions to call her, should an emergency occur.
“Are you…well, Cousin Jen Sin?” Tocohl asked, after giving a report of a quiet quarter-shift.
“As well as may be,” he answered, which, after all, was nothing other than the truth.
In search of distraction, he opened his work screen, and found only one message in-queue.
It was a pinbeam from Bechi dea’Gauss, Korval’s qe’andra, allowing him to know that, based on the document he had forwarded, Korval would be opening negotiations with Crystal Energy Systems, with regard to a possible repair-and-lease contract.
“Progress,” he said aloud, for Tocohl’s benefit. “Korval seeks contract with Crystal Energy.”
“That is good news, surely?” Tocohl said, by which he learned that his tone had been less lightsome than it might have been.
“Surely it must be, for all the reasons Seignur Veeoni included in her document of persuasion,” he said. “Perhaps she will be pleased to learn what her efforts have produced.”
Reaching to the screen, he sent a copy of Qe’andra dea’Gauss’s note to Seignur Veeoni.
The comm emitted the particular tone that signaled the arrival of a message.
There was in-queue a pinbeam from—Miri Robertson Tiazan.
Not, he noted, from Korval, though Miri Robertson Tiazan was delmae—the delm’s lifemate—empowered to speak fully as Korval.
In fact, he had expected a message from Korval, though not so soon as this. He had, after all, written to Korval. But he could not quite imagine what Miri Robertson Tiazan might have to say to him.
Well, he told himself wryly, the means to discover what service Cousin Miri desires is at hand, is it not?
Jen Sin opened the message.
Jen Sin, I write as your cousin to inform you that the delm is solving the matter put forth in your last letter. Until the solving is complete, the delm trusts that you will remain in place, taking such advice and assistance as may be necessary from those in your orbit. You are surrounded by excellent people, as you noted yourself. Theo is fully capable, but headstrong, which will come as no surprise to you, I think. We have asked her to stand ready to perform the tasks you assign. Please do not assign her to administer Tinsori Light. We depend on you, with your experience and your good sense, to hold for us.
Continue to keep the delm and your cousins informed. If you require anything, write to us and we will contrive.
Again, the delm is solving for you. Stand strong.
Miri
Jen Sin blinked, and looked up at the ceiling.
After a moment, he brought his eyes back to the screen, and read Miri’s letter again.
The delm was solving for him.
It was absurd, how those words simultaneously alarmed him, and wakened an urge to put his head down on the desk and weep.
He scrolled through the letter a third time, his eye snagging on a phrase.
We depend on you.
Was it possible that he had fallen short of being plain? The fact was that they could not depend on him. Surely, he had said so. Theo, incoming and untainted by contact with the Great Enemy, was a solid link on whom the clan might depend.
But, there—Theo was headstrong. The delm knew her, as he did not. And—ah.
He thought he saw his error.
Theo was kin, but not clan.
So, this solving the delm undertook on his behalf likely meant that someone properly enclanned was being sent to Tinsori Light to stand as first light keeper.
Bearing in mind that scant list of names in the Line Direct, he did regret placing an additional burden upon an already overworked cousin. Far better, had Theo been found appropriate, but that decision was out of his hands.
The delm was solving.
His eyes filled, and he told himself sternly that he would not weep. He would stand strong, as he had been bidden. What were a few relumma more, in a history such as his?