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Seignur Veeoni’s Private Laboratory


Analysis of the data downloaded from the first and second units on the recovery deck was complete.

Seignur Veeoni stood by the first cranium, considering that fact.

Light Keeper Lorith was dead. Jen Sin yos’Phelium would very possibly die, and if he did not, the treatment rendered by the crisis unit would render the questions of beads and rebirth moot.

What, therefore, was the worth of these analyses, when weighed against other tasks in hand?

It might be argued—she had argued so in the past—that there was no worthless data.

Indeed, the analysis might well provide details regarding Light Keeper Lorith’s subversion. The question remained—were the details worth knowing, in the instance? Such a combination as had produced today’s events was unlikely to occur again, and the broad outlines were obvious.

Light Keeper Lorith had obtained a set of beads from the third unit on the recovery deck. Doubtless the programming in the beads she had been wearing prompted her to do so, and provided instruction. The new beads had rendered her an agent of the Old Light’s will.

Seignur Veeoni had provided a controlled environment in which Tinsori Light could do his work. When his inevitable move was made, Jen Sin yos’Phelium had acted with admirable dispatch, and delivered the coup.

Light Keeper Lorith…

It occurred to Seignur Veeoni, rather abruptly, that she was, perhaps, not a goddess, to be playing thus with lives.

This was…not a new category of thought. Certainly, she had questioned her methods after seeing what the Lyre Institute had made of her former laboratory, and those who had been set to guard her.

That incident had left her angry.

This…she supposed this must be regret.

Well.

She glanced again at the analysis screen, and turned away, her eye alighting on the backup array in the far corner of the room. She should dismantle it, she thought.

But not now. Later.

She reached to the board, and sent the analyses to her reading library.

Doubtless, Yuri would find the analyses interesting and possibly useful. She would forward the files to him, as well.

“Seignur Veeoni,” M Traven said. “You have an urgent call.”

She spun on her heel, the words, the familiar words that always ensured that she would be left alone, rising to her lips—

She took a breath.

“Thank you,” she said, and walked past M Traven to the workroom.


The screen was blank; the originating address…not possible.

“This is Seignur Veeoni.”

“This is Joyita.” The voice was faint and flat.

Seignur Veeoni felt her chest tighten in a most unusual and uncomfortable manner.

“I need your help.”

Her lips parted.

“Joyita, what are you doing in the legacy system?”

“Being lost, and very worried,” came the reply.

“How did you get into the legacy system?” she demanded.

“Overconfidence.”

Perhaps she should have asked for proof, but that reply struck deep and true.

Overconfidence.

Indeed.

“I understand,” she said. “Let me see what I may do.”


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Framed