Strings Read Free

the fifth, didn’t it?” he said. “On Tuesday?”
    Alya felt a mighty rush of relief. “You, too? You feel it, too?” She was not alone, not going mad.
    “A little. Always I feel it a little. Not like you’re doing.”
    So much for inscrutability! Then she did throw herself at Kas, and he squeezed her tight, crushing all the air out of her, and that was wonderful, just what she had needed. For a time she sniveled mutely against his shoulder. And Kas had the sense to say nothing at all.
    “It’s never been this bad,” she said. “Never! It gets worse every time. When Omar went it was bad. Tal’s time was worse yet—but not like this.”
    “This one is your call. Your kismet. That’s why.”
    She had known that, really, but she wailed in horror when he put it into words. “No! No! I won’t leave you. I won’t go!”
    He steadied her head with a big, strong hand. “Alya, dear Alya! They all said that at first, every one of them. You’ve been squirming like an eel for days. Don’t fight it.”
    She mumbled stubborn refusals, but she could feel her resolution failing already.
    “I’ve talked to Nauc,” he said. “I called them on Tuesday.”
    “You— Tuesday ?”
    “I feel it, too, remember. You were smiling like an idiot, but you’d turned such a pretty shade of green—”
    She pummeled him. “I did not!”
    “Turquoise, actually.”
    “Swine!”
    “Avocado in some lights. Anyway, they say yes.”
    “Yes what?” she demanded apprehensively, pulling back.
    “They’ve got a whole basketful of candidates. They want your help to—”
    “No!” She was aghast. “Suppose I make a mistake? Suppose I’m wrong?”
    He shook his head in reproof. “Been bothered by snakebites lately?”
    She twisted her face away from him.
    “When?” she whispered.
    “Alya…Little sister, why not go now?”
    “Now? Today ? But packing…”
    “Leave right now,” he said. “You won’t sleep or eat until you start. Long farewells are sad farewells. You can just change and go.”
    Panic choked her, and she could only stare. He smiled cheerfully, but his eyes were glistening.
    “Moala’s finished your packing. The Air Force is standing by.” That was a family joke, the government’s only plane, an ancestral turbofan that had ferried tourists, back in the days when Banzarak had boasted one of the world’s great beaches.
    “By air across to Singapore,” Kas said. “Then super to Nauc. You’ll be there by dark—except it’ll be early morning their time.”
    “Oh, you have been busy!” Alya said, struggling to match his counterfeit smile. Her heart was pounding insanely, and her knees wanted to liquefy. “I can’t just rush off—”
    “There may not be much time. You know that. Even one day might make much difference—for many people.”
    She felt drowned in a sudden flood. “The old man? Is it fair—”
    Kas shook his head. “He’s not going.”
    “Oh!” Alya bit her lip. All her life Dr. Piridinar Chan had been prime minister of Banzarak. She had no idea how old he was—she suspected she would be shocked to find out. A dear, gentle old man, Pirie had always headed up the Banzarak delegations to Cainsville.
    “Dr. Jar Jathro,” Kas said cautiously. “You know him?”
    Alya pulled a face and nodded. “He just divorced his second wife, or was she his third?”
    “He’s a very acute politician, which is what matters. Piridinar took him along the last two or three times, so he knows how the negotiations are done. He’ll have a couple of backups with him.”
    She nodded. If that was what Kas thought best, then she would not argue; but she wished that Jar Jathro did not always make her think of lizards.
    When she said nothing, Kas added, “I didn’t tell you because…”
    Because he had not wanted to worry her? But it felt right. Oh, God! How right it felt!
    No. She saw that Kas had been testing, making sure, watching her agony grow until there could be no doubt, because this was