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On-Grid

The Wardian


His morning meetings finished, and, for a wonder, nothing scheduled for the afternoon, Bentamin sat in his office with a cup of tea, a plate of Entilly’s cookies, and his mail.

According to The Record, the Council of the Civilized had named an official liaison to the Tree-and-Dragon Trade Mission—and an interesting choice it was.

Not only was Majel ziaGorn a very new member of the Council, but his presence was due to his position as the Chair of the Citizens Coalition, which was rather new, itself—formed a mere thirty Standards ago, to “ensure that the Citizens of Civilization, referred to casually as ‘the Deaf,’ had their proper voice in governance.”

The first Citizens Chair had lived only a few years after her hard-won success, succeeded by Durella vinsEbin, who had managed to put forth legislation that allowed Citizens to hold their own businesses without being required to have a Civilized mentor review and approve every decision, as well as making it legal for Deaf and Civilized to marry.

Those had not been inconsiderable gains. Unfortunately, the strain of the continuing push for Citizen equality had taken its toll on vinsEbin’s soul, and she had—wisely, in Bentamin’s opinion—retired from her post in favor of Majel ziaGorn, owner of a casino, employer of both Civilized and Deaf, whose father had been among the first to take advantage of the new law allowing him to dismiss his Civilized mentor.

Majel ziaGorn was shrewd, ambitious, well-educated, and occasionally naive. vinsEbin had never modified her aggressive approach to her fellow Councilors. On the other hand, ziaGorn proceeded as if he were equal, as the law allowed, and that there was no question he would provide valuable insight into any debate.

He had not yet put forth any legislation, but Bentamin had a hunch that he was biding his time.

And now, he had apparently proposed himself as the Council’s liaison to the trade mission, with the support of krogerSlyte. That was interesting, too. If there was anything in life that Urta krogerSlyte loved more than Colemenoport, Bentamin had not heard of it. That she was willing to have ziaGorn, both ambitious and Deaf, in a position that might equally do great good, or grievous harm to—

“Your pardon, Warden,” his assistant said through the intercom. “Tekelia vesterGranz, Speaker for the Haosa, is here to see you regarding ongoing business.”

Tekelia here?

Bentamin blinked—then snorted. Turnabout was fair play, after all, and even more so, were one Haosa.

“I will see Speaker vesterGranz,” he said, rising and moving to the front of his desk.

The door opened, and Tekelia stepped through, looking every bit the Civilized merchant, hair neatly braided; long vest over silky shirt and soft trousers.

“Warden.” Very grave, with a slight inclination from the waist.

“Speaker,” Bentamin replied, with matching gravity. He looked beyond Tekelia, where his assistant hovered in the door. “Speaker vesterGranz and I will want an hour, Luzant macNamara.”

“Yes, Warden.”

She retreated and closed the door. Bentamin turned his hands palm up.

“Good afternoon, Cousin. May I offer you tea and cookies?”

* * *

“I have examined the children,” Tekelia said, after they had settled into the soft chairs, tea and cookies on the table between them. “I confirm that Vaiza’s Talent interacts directly with the ambient. I confirm that Torin is Civilized.”

Bentamin shifted forward in his chair.

“You did not bring her with you? Is she at risk?”

Tekelia moved a hand.

“She is not in immediate danger. There is somewhat more—will you hear it?”

“I will. Forgive me, Cousin. My entire family is abrupt and graceless.”

Tekelia laughed.

“Well, that’s so, isn’t it? To continue, after I completed my examination, I spoke with Medic arnFaelir. She supports my reading that the children are entwined a-purpose, likely by their mother, as protection. While they lived Civilized, Torin led them, and compensated for her brother’s lacks. Off-Grid, it is Vaiza who leads, and protects his sister from the effects of the ambient.”

Bentamin stared.

“Entwined,” he repeated.

“In fact. Their patterns have been tied, and in some cases woven together, producing, if you will, a single system, which serves both sets of needs. This is why Torin is in no danger while she remains tied to her brother. However.”

Tekelia paused to eat a cookie and sip tea. Bentamin did the same.

“It is Medic arnFaelir’s professional opinion,” Tekelia said, “that the twins ought to be separated—sooner, rather than later—to prevent long-term damage to both.”

“See it done,” Bentamin said, slowly, “and deliver Torin to me. The Wardian will keep her.”

“And her brother?” Tekelia asked dryly.

Bentamin frowned.

“Her brother is a Wild Talent. He will naturally remain with you—the Haosa, I mean to say.”

“I daresay.” Tekelia’s tone was even drier.

Bentamin glared.

“I am being obtuse, I gather.”

“Yet another family marker,” Tekelia murmured.

Bentamin waited, and eventually Tekelia met his eyes.

“Torin and Vaiza are twins. They have been together since before birth. They are even closer than simply twins, due to this entanglement that has been provided to them. Their mother is dead, and their mother’s consort.”

Bentamin moved a hand.

“Yes,” Tekelia said. “In a word, they will miss each other. Separating them immediately will wound both. Periodic visits will not be enough. They are not only used to seeing each other daily; they are used to seeing each other hourly. Eventually, given the resolution of the entanglement, they will grow more able to be apart and to live their separate lives. But that may not be for some years.”

Bentamin stared.

“Torin cannot stay off-Grid,” he said. “Once she is disentangled, and no longer partaking of her brother’s Talent, she will break. Even if she were helped to build the sort of shield that might protect her, to live without accessing her Talent—it would be cruel.”

“Indeed, it would. Whereas Haosa may thrive, on-Grid or off. A child who has not yet come into the fullness of his Talent might not even find the constraints imposed by the Grid . . . too irritating.”

Bentamin reached for his teacup.

“I could have them both here . . . for a time, I suppose. But you know as well I do, Cousin, that in the end Vaiza must go to the Haosa.”

“I may know that now,” Tekelia said. “It might be that I will know something different, years from now. But, Bentamin, rough ground remains before us.”

“Which is?”

“Medic arnFaelir professes herself a blunt instrument, and as such unequal to the task of disentangling the children. The thing was done with such precision, such care—truly, Bentamin, you ought to visit and see for yourself. That aside, our medic advises that the needful work be done by a Civilized Healer, who will have been rigorously trained in such fine work.”

“Ah.” Bentamin put his cup down. “I will engage to find a Healer of sufficient skill. It may take some little while, but I understand that the danger is not acute.”

“That is correct. The Haosa will—your pardon. I imagine that the Haosa will keep Torin and Vaiza safe from the attentions of their kin. The question is on the agenda of tonight’s meeting. If my imaginings are proved wrong, then you will fall guardian.”

“I can take them now,” Bentamin said slowly. “And lessen the danger to the Haosa. The Wardian is formidable.”

“As is the ambient. And the kezlBlythe are Civilized. We are twice protected.”

“Fair enough. I will contact you when an appropriate Healer has been located.” He began to rise—and settled again as Tekelia remained seated.

“I wonder, Bentamin—are you very eager to deal with the kezlBlythe as they deserve?”

“Cousin, that is fast becoming my ruling desire.”

“In that case, you might be interested to learn that there was an eyewitness to Zatorvia xinRood’s murder.”


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