From a-angelk@microsoft.com Mon Mar 13 14:45:06 1995 Return-Path: Received: from netmail2.microsoft.com by mail4.netcom.com (8.6.10/Netcom) id OAA19206; Mon, 13 Mar 1995 14:45:00 -0800 Received: by netmail2.microsoft.com (5.65/25-eef) id AA03753; Mon, 13 Mar 95 14:46:32 -0800 Message-Id: <9503132246.AA03753@netmail2.microsoft.com> Received: by netmail2 using fxenixd 1.0 Mon, 13 Mar 95 14:46:31 PST X-Msmail-Message-Id: 3F8C62F3 X-Msmail-Conversation-Id: 3F8C62F3 From: "Angela 'Anna' Korra'ti (EDP)" To: lhansen@cts.com Date: Mon, 13 Mar 95 13:50:23 PST Subject: Some more Hesperia prose Cc: indigo@ugcs.caltech.edu Status: RO Tamber al-Acorrin was growing very worried. After a couple of weeks' time on Hesperia, his mission with Kevlan Sharr and the black crystal installation had yet to accomplish anything of note. Certainly the planet was lovely, and he and his young companion had had time to acquaint themselves with the local scenery and culture; their handsome young escort Morcet had quite helpful in that respect, readily providing any information Tamber requested about places and points of interest. Morcet continued to be a charming companion during meals and tours of the city, frequently trading clever jabs of wit with the Sorter. The surreptitious glances Morcet gave Tamber's red hair provided enough interest for Tamber to pursue the possibility that their escort was inclined in his direction; Tamber was well aware that his appearance was striking, though the objective awareness he possessed of his own handsomeness nevertheless did not prevent a thrill of pleasure at the knowledge he was under scrutiny. However, pleasant an escort though Morcet was, he was not enough of a distraction to keep Tamber from becoming increasingly concerned about the palpable absence of Leandrika Fallon, the mistress of the Artists' Guild, and the one who had requested the crystal installation in the first place. Tamber and Kevlan had yet to see any sign of the woman, or, for that matter, of the sites where Kevlan was to install the black dodedahedrons. Whenever Tamber inquired after the Guildmistress, Morcet with a skill that surprised even Tamber smoothly deflected the questions, saying only that "Mistress Fallon was making the appropriate arrangements." Tamber didn't like it; you'd think that two representatives of the Heptite Guild would command immediate updates on preparations for the task at hand, particularly when one of the representatives was a black-attuned Crystal Singer. For once Tamber found himself regretting Kevlan Sharr's habitual shy nature - the boy truly had no idea how much influence he could exercise, if he truly stirred himself to do so. Oh, certainly, Morcet was the most mannerly of escorts, going out of his way to provide little graces and services for the two men, even seeing to the free repair of the broken strings on Kevlan's battered gitar. But this reluctance to allow them access to Leandrika Fallon and the utter lack of information about the installation details were inexplicable, given Kevlan's status. Tamber was certain that a confident Kevlan, with the force of his own charisma as well as the sturdy support of the Heptite Guild behind him, would not be receiving this runaround treatment. The problem, though, was teaching Kevlan confidence. Tamber knew he'd properly impressed upon Kevlan the need for him to behave with determination, for him to walk and speak like a man sure of himself. And at least for a time, before their arrival on the planet and during their first days there, Kevlan had been struggling to comply with Tamber's lessons. He'd begun to stride rather than shuffle, letting his lean frame's natural grace flow through his movements. He'd tried and mostly succeeded in keeping the hesitant stammer out of his drawled words, and he'd gotten better at regularly meeting the gaze of someone engaging him in conversation. Tamber was inwardly pleased that Kevlan's usual near-empathic interest in what other people had to say still broadcast itself in his guileless blue gaze; Tamber wanted to cultivate that look. It'd be highly effective, under the right circumstances. But in the last two or three days, Kevlan had grown more absentminded, frequently staring off into space in the middle of conversation. He'd turned listless, and although Tamber's teaching still showed itself in his behavior, Kevlan seemed now to be almost mechanically following his friend's instructions. More disturbingly, he seemed mechanical, too, in his responses to everything around him: "Kevlan, dear boy, remember that you need not bow to planetary leaders. A gracious nod will suffice." "Okay, Tam." "And do try to pay attention to your enunication. Your accent is charming, but you will sound more cultured if you refrain from saying 'ain't' and using some of your more, ah, provincial metaphors... " "Okay, Tam." "Shall we visit the Emporium and inspect the samples of local instrument crafting?" "Okay, Tam." "See, Galahad, our escort has brought us venison for tonight's meal!" "Okay, Tam." Kevlan's lack of enthusiasm in food signaled to Tamber that something - he suspected he knew what - was wrong. Passover time was drawing near on Ballybran; by rights, Kevlan should be ravenous, as his symbiont put out demands for sustenance every few hours or so. But Kevlan ate no more than what Tamber set directly in front of him, and then only when Tamber prompted him. Moreover, Kevlan grew increasingly hollow-eyed - he wasn't sleeping well, Tamber knew. Only with his repaired gitar in his hands did Kevlan seem to come alive again. Tamber took to spending nights encouraging Kevlan to play, to sing.... [I think I need to have Morcet discover them singing and encourage them to play at the local clubs. Callista, what do you think? :)]