University [Sunsinger Chronicles Book 6] Page 4

  “Quite a few of the warriors grew so fascinated with the history of Vidan and the First Civ, both before and during the Downfall, they wanted to join the Order, become scholars and give up their weapons. Kilvordi had to persuade them that they served Fi'in equally well by protecting the defenseless—and they could be scholars when they weren't on patrol duty.

  “The military division of the Order was established in the year two-seventy-eight after the Downfall. We don't tell many people about it, because the Order has enough power just in the scientific realm to frighten people. If they knew we had highly trained warriors at our beck and call, completely separate from the Commonwealth's military, they would be frightened. The Order lives to serve the Commonwealth and the Human race, Bain. Never forget that. We have given our lives to protect Humanity. We always will."

  The recording stopped. Bain heard a tiny humming through the collar link for a moment, then it stopped. Through the library, as far as he could hear, nobody spoke for several long moments.

  “Who is Sister Marnya?” a man said, coming up behind Bain.

  He turned around, and stared for five long seconds. The man towered over Bain, more than two meters tall, with a curly mop of silvery gray hair and a matching beard and bushy moustache. He wore a long, dirty white smock over a olive-green jumpsuit, full of pockets crammed with paper notebooks, datapads, bits of leaves and twigs and string, and three red balls that made one pocket gape open. His eyes were an amazing, bright blue and they twinkled as he returned Bain's gaze.

  Bain knew in that moment, this man was his friend, not an enemy trying to make fun of him.

  “Sister High Scholar Marnya, sir,” he said, guessing the man had to be someone in high authority in the library, to get away with dressing so oddly. “She's ... an assistant to the last Kilvordi.” After all, Bain didn't know yet if Marnya had released the news that the last Kilvordi had been killed and she was now head of the Order. “She's been studying Order history for years."

  “Fascinating,” the odd man said, nodding. “Do you know how to get hold of her?"

  “Through the Order, I guess. She's been doing a lot of traveling, lately. Visiting colonies and seeing what help they really need."

  “Ah. Of course.” He nodded, then seemed to notice the librarians leaning over the desk, staring at him and Bain. “Well, what are you numb-wits looking at?"

  “Nothing, sir,” the redhead murmured, and ducked out of sight behind the desk. That confirmed Bain's theory about the man's position of power.

  “I suggest you contact the Order and ask them to furnish us with information about the military division within their ranks. The Upper University Library can't risk being unable to fulfill anyone's request for information. Now, as for you, young man, why do you need that information?"

  “It's a very long story, sir."

  “Good.” He winked at Bain. “I like long stories. I've been holed up in my laboratory for years, it feels like. I decided to take a stroll around the library and see if anything unusual had turned up, and lo and behold, there you are asking that totally unexpected question.” He chuckled. “It's getting on toward dinner time, I think. Would you care to join me for a totally non-nutritious, delicious meal, and tell me your long story?"

  “Well, sir.... “Bain wanted to, very badly. He just had a few problems. “I'm here with my captain, and I really shouldn't leave without her permission.” He paused.

  “And?” the man prompted, smiling. The mischief in his eyes made Bain want to laugh.

  “I don't even know your name, sir."

  “Well, what do you know about that? I'm Dr. Frurin.” He held out his hand and they shook hands. “Come to think of it, I don't know who you are, either."

  “Chobainian Kern."

  “Chobainian? How fascinating—that's not a name you hear very often. How did you get attached to such a long handle?” Dr. Frurin gestured down the nearest aisle. Bain followed as he started walking.

  “It's a family name. My great-great-great-grandfather and a couple of great-uncles had it. Only they always shortened it. Either Ian or Bain. I'm Bain."

  “Very pleased to meet you, Bain.” They walked into the lift shaft for that floor and the little car carried them down to the next level. “Please excuse my saying this, but you aren't a full-fledged, working Spacer crew, are you? Still a year or two of apprenticeship left?"

  “Yes, sir.” Bain grinned. Lin said he had at least three years left—and most boys his age would have at least five ahead of them, which was a tribute to his intelligence and her teaching skills. He was flattered that Dr. Frurin thought he was older.

  “I think before we go any further in this conversation, I should meet your captain. Where is he or she?” Dr. Frurin looked around as they stepped out of the lift car.

  “She. Lin Fieran of the Sunsinger."

  “Captain Fieran of Sunsinger? What an amazing coincidence.... “He shook his head. “You're the ship that found the Mashrami homeworld, aren't you? Splendid job, Bain. The information you two found and brought back has been driving the scientists here alternately wild with frustration or delight, depending on what we're trying to do with that information.” He chuckled and thumped Bain on the back in a gentle, oddly companionable way. “I simply must meet your captain now. What a wonderful coincidence."

  Chapter Five

  Dr. Frurin kept muttering about coincidence and what a wonderful job Sunsinger did, until Bain retraced his steps to the work station where Lin had set up to do her research that afternoon. Dr. Frurin nearly pounced on her, shaking her hand and congratulating her on the wonderful job she did and what a splendid, intelligent, resourceful young crewman she had. Lin sat very still, blinking rapidly, until Dr. Frurin's words ran down.

  “Bain?” she said, turning to look at him when the doctor had sunk down into a seat, grinning and gasping for breath.

  “I met Dr. Frurin at the information desk and he thinks my research is ... fascinating,” Bain said after searching fruitlessly for a better, less flowery word. “He wants me to eat dinner with him and talk about it, and I said I had to ask you, first."

  “You will come with us, won't you, Captain Fieran?” Dr. Frurin said. “It would be an honor to meet the captain of the Sunsinger. You simply have to let me thank you for all the fascinating, delightful scientific data you brought back from the Mashrami homeworld."

  “Oh, so that's it.” Lin smiled now. “Things are starting to make sense. I think.” She looked back and forth between Bain and Dr. Frurin a few times. Then she shrugged. “Why not? It sounds like it could be fun. We'll learn something about the other side of our mission, at the very least."

  “That's right. You haven't been called in to testify yet, have you?” The man shook his head, making his silvery curls bob. “I seriously doubt I'd be breaching Commonwealth security to tell you what I've found, at the very least. But come along. I know a wonderful little restaurant that will let us sit and talk for hours.” He chuckled. “They're used to my little foibles, I must confess. Wonderful people there. Simply wonderful."

  He didn't say a word about the Mashrami or their mission or even what he was working on using that data, while they walked out of the library building and down the little path that led from the University section of the dome into the public service areas.

  The larger domes, near the habitation sectors, had marketplace-type areas, mostly restaurants and small gardens for sitting and talking, and shops where customers had to go inside a building instead of walking down aisles and seeing everything displayed. Bain had found it a little odd the first few days on Centralis, but now he liked the idea of going into the shop and looking at merchandise and not feeling like everyone who passed by knew what he was buying.

  “Here we are,” Dr. Frurin said, gesturing at a low, golden brick building surrounded by a sunken garden full of gold, scarlet and azure flowers and vivid green prickly bushes. “Do you like spicy food, Captain?"

  “Within reason. And please, ca
ll me Lin."

  Bain was delighted. When Lin asked someone to call her by her first name this soon after being introduced, it meant she liked him. He was glad his instincts about people matched hers, because he hoped he could spend lots of time talking to Dr. Frurin.

  “Ah, then you both must call me Ian.” He led them through the thick curtain of clicking, chiming blue and silver beads that formed the doorway of the restaurant. “You see, Bain, Chobainian is a traditional name in my family, too."

  “You're kidding.” Bain was glad of the shadows in the sparsely occupied restaurant. His face felt warm.

  “Indeed not.” He led them to a round table set into the corner, covered with a cloth splattered with so many colors, Bain wondered if it was an accident or some strange design he couldn't follow.

  A waitress hurried over to take their order. At least, Bain assumed the veil-draped, Human-shaped figure was a woman. The voice was low, the laughter a soft rumble. Alabaster hands held a tiny pad of real paper and a carbon stick to write down their order. Dr. Frurin inclined his head toward Lin, eyebrows raised in question.

  “We're entirely in your hands, Ian,” she said with a chuckle.

  Dr. Frurin rattled off a list of dishes so quickly, Bain couldn't understand half what he said. He assumed the doctor came here so often he knew the menu offerings by heart. The veiled figure nodded and chuckled and hurried away to fill the order.

  “Now,” Dr. Frurin said, “I suppose I should tell you what my research is, so that your part will make more sense, but.... My goodness, I've completely run past my other intentions!” He shook his head and chuckled and slouched back in the softly cushioned chair, a wooden frame with a bucket-shaped sling of yellow cloth, filled with green and red pillows. “Bain, I originally approached you to ask about your research. Why were you asking about the warrior division of the Order?"

  “The warriors?” Lin sat forward in her own blue-cushioned sling-seat. “You were talking to Sister Marnya quite a bit about them when she traveled with us. Now I'm interested, too."

  “Well ... I just have this idea.... “Bain toyed with the utensils placed in the center of his green-striped placemat. “Remember how Sister Marnya said they have the supplies and healers and teachers to help people, but they don't have the ships or the pilots to get them there in time? How when the war is over and ships are freed up for exploring again, then they would be able to do more?"

  “I remember. I also remember how frustrated she was with all the logistical problems."

  Dr. Frurin frowned a little, clearly puzzled by their references. Lin made a hurried explanation of Sister Marnya's reasons for traveling through the Commonwealth, and their particular journey with her and her bodyguard, Jax.

  “So, you're researching the warrior division for what reason?” she prompted, turning back to Bain.

  “I thought we could get people together to be ready to help all the time, instead of just asking for help whenever an emergency came up,” Bain said.

  He hated how his words seemed to dry up when he had to speak them. The ideas were strong and bright in his mind, and kept coming at breakneck speed—but they ground to a screeching halt when he had to talk about them.

  “I thought if I could figure out how different groups got organized and how they worked, then I could put together my Scouts—that's what I decided to call them—and avoid a lot of problems, and figure out what training we need."

  “Impressive,” Dr. Frurin murmured. “You see a need, and now you want to meet it full-time."

  “You think it's a good idea?” Bain asked. He glanced back and forth between Lin and Dr. Frurin, feeling his heart trying to come up his throat. What if they said they thought it wouldn't work?

  “A very good idea,” the doctor said, nodding. “I'm sure when you're older and you start actually organizing your Scouts, you'll find a great many people willing to throw in with you. I'm sure there are thousands of people across the Commonwealth who feel as frustrated, as eager to help as you, and just as unable to take the first step. A most impressive young man, Lin—where did you find him?"

  “Lenga.” Lin smiled softly. “I went looking for some distant kin and got shanghaied into evacuating a cargo hold full of orphans. Bain was an unexpected bonus."

  “That settles it. I suspected before when I learned Bain's full name, but now I'm sure ... Lin, Bain, would you indulge me and come back to my quarters when we're done with dinner? I have something I want to ask you, and show you, but it just won't have the proper impact if I tell you about it here. Ah, Cooria. Wonderful timing.” He sat back, making room for the waitress to bring a tray of steaming cups of tea and little lidded pots to their table and put it in the center. “Tea, with all sorts of marvelous things to put into it.” He thanked the waitress with a nod and smile and waited until she had left before continuing. “These are flavored honeys, and these are different flavors of cream to put into your tea."

  “Cream in tea?” Bain said.

  “It's the only civilized way to drink it, according to Cooria's people. I think after one taste, you'll agree with them."

  For the next several minutes, they were happily occupied with tasting the different creams and honeys and deciding what combinations to put in their tea. Each cup was three times the size of the cups used on Sunsinger, and Bain had to hold his cup in both hands to drink without fear of spilling. After one sip of bitter black tea with chocolate cream and mint honey, he was inclined to agree that this was indeed the proper way to drink tea.

  “Now, before we are interrupted with our dinner and get distracted,” Dr. Frurin said, after a long sip of tea, “let me tell you what I'm doing with that data you brought back. First of all, what do you think we should do with the planets infected by the Mashrami, once they've departed our territory?"

  “Take them back, clean them up and re-settle them, of course,” Lin said.

  “How do we clean them up, when the ecological system has been infected, maybe even mutated by the Mashrami viruses and poisons?"

  “Oh.” She nodded. “That's your job."

  “My particular task is to develop a Mashrami virus anti-virus.” He paused, frowning. “Does that make sense?"

  “It does to me,” Bain hurried to assure him.

  “Good. When the layman understands, then I know I'm going in the right direction. Sometimes, what makes perfect sense to my scientific colleagues and myself often doesn't work at all in the common sense world of reality."

  “The real world doesn't make any sense,” Lin muttered as she raised her cup to sip.

  Dr. Frurin burst out laughing, nearly slopping tea over the side of his cup. He saluted her and drank deeply. Then he demanded to hear their side of the adventure that started with a test for Mashrami sensor-proof shield tiles and ended up with Sunsinger chasing a damaged Mashrami ship through several new Knaught Points to their dying homeworld.

  Lin told most of the tale, with Bain adding bits and pieces, and sometimes they asked Ganfer for his impressions or to play back bits of their recordings from those odd days of silent waiting or mad chases.

  During their recitation, Cooria brought in trays of food. Some was so bland it had no taste, but the textures were cool and soothing between the dishes so spicy Bain thought layers had been scalded off his tongue and throat. He ate at least a mouthful of everything, sometimes mixing the bland sauces with the fiery green chunks of meat and beans and rice. He learned he had to be careful and not judge by color or appearance. What looked like a creamy, sweet confection of whipped cheese and sugar turned out to be bitter, salty and filled with garlic. Dr. Frurin chuckled when Bain winced at his first spoonful of the concoction, and showed him how to spread it on warm bread so it melted into the nutty sweet texture. Bain ate four pieces of the bread with the garlic spread, using it to cool his mouth when the oily, steaming spices became too much for him.

  “The cream serves another purpose besides enhancing the tea,” Dr. Frurin said, when they were nearly halfway throu
gh the dinner and Lin had paused in describing the time the Mashrami tried to drag them in to use as an energy source. He waited until both Lin and Bain were looking at him. “The cream coats your stomach, so the spices won't wreak quite as drastic a vengeance as they could."

  “Maybe we should drink more tea when we're done,” Bain said.

  “Oh, we will.” He chuckled. “Save room for the most marvelous pastries ever created in the Commonwealth, Conclave, and all the universes beyond Human knowledge."

  The pastries lived up to his description. Bain didn't know what to call them. The shells were flaky pasty so light they crumbled between his fingers and had barely any taste at all. Inside were thick globs of nearly solid whipped cream, studded with chocolate bits and candied fruits and crystallized sugar, flavored in layers of almond and cherry, and everything covered in a layer of vanilla syrup with a slightly bitter aftertaste. Bain ate slowly, eyes closed, concentrating on the sweetness that soothed away the last lingering traces on fire on his tongue.

  Now, all he wanted to do was sit very still, close his eyes and go to sleep.

  Dr. Frurin, however, had other ideas. He was determined that they come back to his quarters to see whatever he wanted to tell and show them. He was so nice about it, not at all demanding, Bain felt guilty just thinking about saying no. He saw the momentary hesitation in Lin's face, when the doctor announced that it was time for their after-dinner walk. Then she smiled.

  “If we don't get moving soon, Ian, we'll never leave this place. I'm terrified they'll just keep feeding us until we burst."

  “I've had the same fear myself a few times. I can only allow myself to eat here once a month—or whenever I remember to take a break from my work.” Dr. Frurin chuckled. “I haven't been here in nearly three months, and it's all your fault.” He shook his finger at them. Bain laughed—then hiccupped.

  “Time to walk,” Bain said, feeling somewhat embarrassed. He pushed himself to his feet. His stomach protested; not from the spicy intensity of their dinner, but from being so full.