Reclamation

The touch of his fingertips on the screen opened the channel. Caril's face appeared against the grey background.

Kelat glanced sharply left and right. No Witness was in the room. They were occupied watching the activity outside, not the administrative details. His mind began the First Grace in thankfulness.

"What news?" he asked.

"The Grand Errand is being moved to the encampment in orbit around Kethran Colony," said Caril. "Stone in the Wall has been located there, in one of their gene-tailoring facilities."

The work of the Ancestors in the hands of outsiders! Kelat was aghast. He hoped it did not show. Caril was easily impressed or repulsed by appearances.

"What do we know about her circumstances?"

"Basq's committee is expecting difficulties and has requested to be put on the Assembly docket to authorize a bribe for the colony officials to recover her. Kethran feeling is hostile to the Vitae presence and her contract is being held by a member of one of their first families. We may offer to withdraw. The projections show that if we did, the local government would request our return within fifteen years. The trade-off will probably be deemed acceptable."

Kelat's newly grown finger began to twitch. He stilled it. "Is there any way we might recover her first?"

"Paral is reconstructing an activity trail. Outside the Amaiar Gardens, she appears to only have had brief contact with a Shessel-held communications firm."

Kelat thought. "Would you say it is a safe prediction that if the artifact felt threatened, she would attempt to run away?"

"That is certainly her observed behavior."

"Then our course of action seems clear." As he spoke, a measure of calm returned to him. "We induce her to run. Have we any of our own people on Kethran?"

Caril paused, considering. "A few. It will be possible for me to send Paral down to coordinate."

"Paral…" Kelat hesitated. "He's very young, Caril."

"He is dedicated. He will do what is necessary."

As does Jahidh, but that does not mean an efficient operation. Kelat tried to see alternatives, but could not. "Just impress upon Paral that he is to do no more than necessary, Caril."

"What about Eric Born?"

"He was seen on May 16, but his ship left orbit before any movement could be coordinated to recover him. Basq's network traces have been put in place, and we are waiting."

The hum from the excavation changed pitch and Kelat made an abrupt decision. "If you are forced to make a choice, Caril, the female artifact has priority over the male."

"Understood, Contractor."

"And let me contact you next time. The Witnesses here have no fixed posts. Bad timing could see us added to the Memory prematurely."

"Also understood." With that, she closed the line and the screen went black.

Kelat sat watching the blank screen for a long moment. His new finger twitched spasmodically against his thigh.

This was bad, this was wrong. There were too many factors too far out of control. But what could be done? The Imperialists were committed. The dependence on service could not continue. The power in the Quarter Galaxy was shifting with the rise of the Unifiers and the discovery of the Shessel. The Vitae were in danger of losing their footing. The rule had to become open and firmly established. The artifacts and the Home Ground were the keys to the Imperialist success. They had to be recovered and understood.

Kelat bowed his head and began reciting all six Graces.

There was nothing else to do.

Abassyd Station was so new, even the Vitae hadn't had a chance to get themselves organized on it. No comet-branded ships waited in its docks. Its personnel roles had only half a dozen Vitae designations listed. The construction records showed the Vitae's private area was yet to be built.

But they were in there. Eric leaned forward in the copilot's seat and stared at the view screen showing the station's skin. Its cylindrical modules gleamed silver and gold in the light of a distant sun. The Vitae were under there, supervising, devising, scheming.

It had taken 172 hours to get here from May 16. The U-Kenai had been hanging from the docking clamps for an additional eight hours, and so far, nothing had happened. If the Vitae had noticed that his little ship didn't match the transmission that described it, they weren't making an audible fuss about it. He glanced at the comm board. There hadn't been a twitch or flicker since the initial recorded docking message.

Eric stared at his fingertips where they rested against the board's edge.

What are you waiting for, Teacher? Permission from the Nameless? Or just from the Rhudolant Vitae?