Victory Conditions Read online

  “They’ll find out the family was nearly destroyed. That should definitely help.” Toby felt worse the closer they got to Zori’s parents. They lived in Cascadia Station’s most exclusive neighborhood, The Cone, with live trees along both sides of the pedestrian-only street. Cone Park, outside the gates, was the station’s largest, and held a small grove of pines. If Zori’s parents wouldn’t listen to Stella, why would they listen to a boy under legal age? He felt much older than his official age, but he knew that did not matter. He was Stella’s ward, and too young to plead his own case.

  “Something helped, or they wouldn’t have invited you to meet them,” Zori said. She glanced back over her shoulder. “Your cousin is still mistrustful, I see.”

  Toby could think of nothing polite to say. Stella had told him, over and over, why he must have security along on this social occasion. Clearly she did not trust either Station Security or Zori’s parents, and that was a form of insult. But he was her ward; he had to do what she said.

  Zori patted his arm. “Don’t worry—I’m not upset with you. After what happened with your family, I can understand her feelings. But really—we’re in the safest area of the station. You don’t need your guards there, I promise.”

  “I know,” Toby said. “I know that, but—she didn’t just tell me; she told them. And they listen to her.” He cleared his throat. “How angry will your parents be?”

  “Kafadit,” Zori said. “Tiagri banta zo. But she’ll have told them, I’m sure, and they’ll be upset with her, not you.”

  They were near the security gate now. Toby felt the prickle of sweat under his arms. “Kzuret,” he said softly. “Zurinfar kzuret tsim.”

  She blushed. “Kzuret adin,” she said. “But we had better not say that around my parents.”

  “I wish you knew what language it was,” Toby said, as she punched in the code. “What root, anyway…”

  “Commercial code, my father says,” Zori said, as the gate slid aside and she led him through. “Don’t you Vattas have something similar?”

  “Yes, but it’s based on one of the Slotter Key languages, extinct now. Tam-something.”

  A yell from behind made him turn around. The gate had shut before his security could get through.

  “What happened?” Toby said.

  Zori scowled. “Your cousin must not have told my father that you were bringing them. The gate was set for only the two of us. Well, that’s one way of getting rid of them—”

  “I can’t,” Toby said. The two men were glaring at him through the gate. “Stella would—” He moderated his first thought, shaping it to Cascadian terms. “—be most upset.”

  Zori gave him a challenging look. “My parents were most upset about you, remember? And I faced them down. Are you that—” He could see the effort she made to frame it in courteous terms and then she shifted to their slang. “—that protvin?”

  That stung. “It’s not a matter of courage,” he started; her brows went up, the expression on her face all scorn and utterly beautiful at once. Toby felt his heart turn over. Kzuret adin, she’d said. She loved him. He still didn’t know why she loved him, but cowardice certainly wasn’t the reason. He could still feel her warm breath on his ear when she’d said it; he could still smell her fragrance. “I have to explain to them,” he said. “That’s only polite.” She nodded, her face relaxing now.

  Toby walked the few steps back to the gate. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But apparently Stella didn’t tell Zori’s father that I would have an escort. The gate’s set for only two, and Zori doesn’t have the right to let anyone else in. When I get to her place, I’ll ask her parents to let you in, but really—you can see, you know, it’s The Cone. Nothing bad happens here. I’ll be fine.”

  “You should come out. You know that. Your cousin told you—”

  Toby shrugged. “She wants me safe; I understand that. But I’m perfectly safe here. It’s The Cone, after all.”

  “It’s our job; we’re supposed to be with you at all times—” And they had been, and he and Zori had not been able to do anything without those watchful and—he feared—amused adult gazes on them.

  “I’m not coming out,” Toby said. “I’m just going to meet Zori’s parents, and it would be rude to be late. You can explain to Stella.”

  “We certainly will,” said the elder.

  A few minutes later, in the elegant salon of Zori’s place, Toby returned the polite bow of the older man—Zori’s father—whose perfectly tailored suit and polished shoes seemed impregnable as a suit of armor.

  “And this is my wife, Zori’s mother,” he said, gesturing to a dark-haired woman in a gown of pale green. She had not risen from her chair. Like all the others in the room, it had thin curved legs and a narrow seat upholstered in stripes of green and cream.

  Toby bowed again, this time more deeply as appropriate for a young man to an older woman. His voice broke on the formal phrase of greeting; he could feel the blood rushing to his face.

  “It is our pleasure to welcome our daughter’s school friend,” Zori’s mother said. Something in her voice reduced him to the level of grubby schoolboy, the age to have sweets stuck to his pocket linings. He was more than a school friend, he wanted to say, but he knew he could not.

  “Toby’s very bright, Mother,” Zori said, breaking the awkward silence.

  “So you have told us, Zori,” her father said. He glanced briefly at Toby, a glance like a knife blade. “It is the first time you have not headed the class, so he must be…remarkable.”

  “Do sit down,” her mother said. “We have a little time until the meal is served.”

  Zori perched on the chair nearest her mother; Toby, following her glance, took one two seats away, across from her father, who now sat next to his wife.

  “I understand,” her mother said now, “that your family has had a great tragedy.”

  “Yes, sera,” Toby said. He forced himself to speak calmly. “We were attacked, across many systems. I am fortunate to be alive.”

  “You yourself were attacked? A boy so young?”

  “Yes, sera. If not for my cousin Stella, whom you’ve met—”

  “I have not met her,” Zori’s father put in. “I have spoken with her, only.”

  “Spoken with,” Toby said, wondering at the vehemence of that correction. “If not for her, I would be dead. She saved my life.”

  “And now you honor her,” Zori’s mother said. “How very appropriate.” Her fingers twitched, pleating the fabric of her skirt. “I understand your family had extensive holdings on several planets—especially on Slotter Key. That you were in fact among the founding families there.”

  “Yes, sera,” Toby said. He knew Stella must have told them this; why were they asking him?

  “We value land, you see, not just wealth, as a sign of a family’s…stability. Land stays; people wander. Those who have no roots in the land are…rootless. Do you not think that is so?”

  “I suppose…” He had never thought of it that way; the Vatta family owned land, yes, and some of the family farmed or ranched, but the point was always trade and profit—selling the produce of the land, transporting it to market.

  “Tell me, Toby,” her father said. “Did you grow up on a planet or in space?”

  “On a planet,” Toby said. “My grandmother always said children need to get mud between their toes…” A quick glance passed between Zori’s parents.

  “How…quaint,” Zori’s mother said. “You did not wear shoes, then?”

  “Not at the beach,” Toby said. “Or at the lake.” He had forgotten that Cascadians did not approve of bare feet…of course not, onstation, but what about onplanet? Did they not swim in their lakes and rivers and oceans?

  “Ah.” She smiled at him, and for a moment he saw in her face the similarity to Zori, until now concealed by age and dress and formality. Zori had her eyes, her cheekbones, but her father’s chin. “Your culture’s customs are less formal than ours, I believe?”
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  “Yes, sera,” Toby said. He dared not say more; he’d put his foot in it already.

  “Still, lands…” She glanced at her husband. “Formal or informal, there is more difference between landed families and those rootless, than between formal and informal.”

  Zori’s father stirred, on his chair; it squeaked a little. Then he stood. “There is still time before our meal, Zorais,” he said. “I will show your friend my collection of Cascadian curiosities. Come, Toby.”

  Zori flashed him a grin as he stood and followed her father out of the salon. Her father’s office was almost as large, paneled in dark wood carved to represent vines with leaves and fruit, tree branches, even animals and birds. Translucent panels gave light that varied from green to gold, creating a forest-floor ambience. Pin-lights picked out some of the carvings, intensifying the illusion.

  Two big display cases flanked the room, their contents carefully illuminated: shells, feathers, mineral specimens, tree cones.

  “These are all from our estates downplanet,” Zori’s father said. “As you are planet-born, I thought you might like to see—I understand you have not been downplanet here yet?”

  “No, ser,” Toby said. “Not here.”

  “You know that we Cascadians revere trees—our family has over ten thousand hectares of primary forest, never terraformed, and five thousand terraformed, at Riverrunning, our primary home. The river provides fish, shellfish…see here…” He put an arm around Toby’s shoulder and urged him toward one of the displays. Toby felt the strength in the man’s arm, but it was not hostile…just vaguely uncomfortable.

  The shells looked like shells from the lake at home; Toby said so.

  “Yes. To our surprise—but I am not an ecologist, you understand—the native aquatic species build shells of calcium carbonate, and those shells are similar in shape to those of Old Earth organisms, I’ve been told. Here’s something different.”

  Something different had had an exoskeleton with long, intricately branched spines. It was a little longer than Toby’s hand.

  “That was from your river?”

  “No—that was a gift that’s come down through the family. I don’t know where it’s from, but I find it beautiful. The spines are still toxic, however long ago the creature died.”

  Zori’s father had moved his arm to gesture; Toby eased away to look more closely at the display.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering,” the man said, “when I will remind you that Zori is my beloved daughter, and demand that your attentions be honorable. And in fact, I had planned to have that conversation. But I can see, from your demeanor, that you are an honorable young man, and that you care for her very much. I see no need to threaten you—”

  “No, ser…” Toby began, but her father raised a finger for silence.

  “I would merely remind you that you are both young, and it is too soon to make binding agreements. You love her, you think—and perhaps you do. She loves you, she thinks—and perhaps she does. But many young people are in love with the idea of love, and cannot yet distinguish that from the true and lasting affection that leads to a secure relationship. I believe I can trust you—” His gaze sharpened. “—not to do anything foolish. Can I not?”

  “Yes, ser,” Toby said, hating the blush that he could feel heating his face. “I will not do anything…like that.”

  “Zori has always been headstrong,” her father said, looking away. “Like me, perhaps. Her mother is…more biddable.” In that was something that chilled, though Toby did not know what. “You will need to be the man, Toby. Do not let her have her way, when it comes to…foolishness. Do you understand me?”

  That much he understood. “I won’t, Ser Louarri,” he said formally.

  “Excellent. Now tell me—I hear from Zori that you have not only good general intelligence, but outstanding ability in certain technical fields. I am aware of your cousin’s patent application, and the contracts to manufacture this miraculous new device that will free ships from reliance on the ISC…it has already had an influence on the market. Is it true that this was your invention?”

  Something—he would never be quite sure what—tied Toby’s tongue for the merest instant, and Stella’s advice flashed into his mind. “Not really, Ser Louarri. I just noodled around a bit—it was more accidental than anything else, and others refined it.” At that moment, Toby remembered his security. But how—without extreme discourtesy—could he ask about that now?

  “It would have been truly remarkable if a boy your age had invented it,” her father said, smiling. “Well…I think perhaps we should join the ladies now. Lunch should be on the point of service.” He reached out and ruffled Toby’s hair, as if Toby were still a child.

  Then he gave a sudden quick nod, like someone who had just taken a skullphone call. “Toby, your cousin is most insistent that your escort attend you at once—I am sorry she did not let me know they were coming; we would have prepared food for them, of course. They are on their way now. But have you felt at all anxious here? Other than the natural anxiety of a boy meeting a girl’s parents for the first time?” His smile now as open and warm.

  Toby smiled back. “No, ser, of course not. I thought Stella’s precautions were excessive, and I’m sure they were not from distrust of you, but to teach me more caution.”

  “Your cousin is wise, Toby, and I have taken no offense. The young are often incautious. Had I known about your escort, I would have arranged for their entry, of course.”

  Lunch, after that, was marred only by the presence of his security, two stolid men standing against the wall, refusing to eat while Zori and her parents and Toby consumed four delicious courses and made small talk. Zori’s mother had stories of her childhood on the planet—excursions into the country to boat or ride, parties and dances. Her face came alive as she told them. Zori’s father said little, but smiled fondly at Zori even when she tried to tease him into response.

  After lunch, Toby hoped Zori would walk back with him, but she came only as far as the gate to The Cone. “I have to talk to them,” she said. “But you did very well, Toby. I know they liked you.”

  “I was scared,” Toby said. “Until I thought of you. But I can’t—” He glanced around; the security men were there, as always. “Kzuret,” he said. “Kzuret adin.”

  “Kzuret adin,” she said. “See you tomorrow in class.” Then she was gone, walking briskly back up the passage to her home, and he led his security back out into the public areas of the station.

  When Toby got back to the Vatta offices, Stella called him in at once. “What did you mean, leaving your security behind?”

  “I had to,” he said. “It would have been rude to be late; I was going to ask Zori’s father when I got there—”

  “But you didn’t,” she said. “Did you?”

  “I couldn’t figure out how to do it without being rude,” Toby said. “Besides, it was safe. I was in a private home, with friends—”

  “Acquaintances,” Stella said. “Just because they’re respectable and rich doesn’t make them friends.”

  Toby felt hot. “Zori—!” he said.

  “Zori is your friend. Don’t bristle at me; I like her, too. But she’s not her parents. And it took her father a long time to unlock that gate for your security.”

  “He said if you’d only told him beforehand…” Toby’s voice trailed away at Stella’s expression.

  “I did,” she said. “Of course I did. He said it wasn’t necessary; I said it was our policy. Think about that, Toby. Would people we want as friends lie to you?”

  Toby wanted to argue with her—it couldn’t be true, these were Zori’s parents—but Stella would not lie to him. That much he knew.

  “He must’ve had a good reason,” he said, knowing it was a weak argument.

  “I’m sure he did,” Stella said. “Did he try to talk to you about your research?”

  The uneasy feeling he’d had in the study with Zori’s father returned. He couldn’t defin
e it; he didn’t want it. “I need to work on my paper,” Toby said without answering directly.

  “Do that,” Stella said. He could feel her gaze on his back as he went into the lab where he had left his schoolwork.

  A couple of hours later, Stella called him. “Toby, do you have any linguistic analysis software that can make sense of this?” She held out an audio cube and a printout.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Ky sent it; it’s a recording and phonetic transcript of transmission by pirate ships. Nobody in her group can understand it, and she sent it to me. Nobody I’ve talked to so far has a clue; I’ll send a copy to some university language departments onplanet, but I don’t expect much. Cascadians are pretty much monolingual, and even on the other worlds of the Confederation, they don’t have much linguistic diversity.”

  Toby took the cube and printout and glanced at the latter. “That’s odd,” he said.

  “What?” Stella was already back at her own desk.

  “This word—prot—it’s kind of slang.”

  “Kid slang?” Stella said. “I don’t think the pirates would be using ordinary kid slang, and anyway others would recognize it.”

  “Zori said it meant—something rude.” He was not about to tell Stella exactly what. She had laid down her rules about anatomical humor long before.

  “Zori?” She turned to face him. “You learned that word from Zori?”

  “I don’t know if it’s the same word, exactly. It sounds like it, but there could be words in different languages that sound the same and mean something different. Vatta code uses some that Standard—”

  “I know that,” Stella said. “But do you see anything else you recognize?”