The Galaxy Game Read Free

have chosen for yourself.’
    A gentle frown appeared briefly on the Patron’s face, showing perplexity rather than anger. ‘Is that what they say?’ he said drily. ‘In the absence of other witnesses, the missing conveniently take on our sins. Let me tell you directly – I bear her no ill will, quite the opposite. I want her found, for my aunt’s sake as much as my own.’
    ‘She is only one missing person among many who concern you. I understand that.’
    ‘I am glad that you understand my responsibilities, but you still fail to comprehend my heart.’
    Narua fell silent, chastised.
    ‘Let us go. As I said, Narua, you only had to ask. I’ll unlock the charms for you and you can see what secrets are dangling on this chain.’
    *
    Because he was the Patron and thus a busy man, and also because only his time and his timing mattered, they did not, as Narua had hoped, go straight from landing at Port of Janojya to a viewing at one of the port’s extensive conference facilities. Nor did they, on return to Janojya proper and re-entry to the Haneki domains, immediately settle down to a private meeting in the Patron’s workroom or living quarters. Narua found himself gently dismissed, left alone for days to consider and worry and finally fret, and then at last he was summoned.
    The Patron sat alone at the edge of a sunken holo projector pit in the centre of his workroom floor. He sat so still that Narua thought for a moment that he was meditating. Narua crossed the threshold, courteously quiet but sensibly announcing his entry with an inaudible beat of presence that could be discerned by any but the most primitive Terran. The Patron’s eyelids flickered, lowered rather than closed, and Narua saw that his focus was on something held in the upturned palm on his lap.
    ‘Narua . . . or may I say Kirat?’
    Narua smiled. ‘You may say Siha, but childhood names don’t matter any more. Not for me.’
    ‘Then let me start again. Narua, I wish you well in your search. This role I fill comes with many opportunities and many restrictions, and if I cannot help, I will at least not hinder. Here.’
    The Patron waved him to a cushion beside him. Narua looked before he sat and picked up a single charm, shaped like a watchtower, from the dip in the soft fabric.
    ‘A full copy of everything you tried to steal,’ said the Patron, both chiding and amused. ‘Use it wisely and don’t embarrass me.’
    Narua nodded, too pleased to speak, and quickly put it into a pocket. The Patron’s gaze returned to the object in his own hand.
    ‘For this,’ he said, holding it up to clear view, ‘I had to make a request, and then I had to wait.’
    Narua stared. It was an old Cygnian datacharm of a design that slightly pre-dated the one the Patron kept on the chain, and the style was familiar. He began to speak, then bit his lip.
    ‘I think you have one like it,’ the Patron said. ‘This belongs to my aunt. I only found out about it when it came up during our recent chat on your latest shenanigans. She said we should watch it together, before you go through all the other journals and chronicles.’
    It was the moment to ask, but Narua stayed silent. He could already guess who was on it and more questions seemed superfluous. The Patron nodded his approval and gently threw the charm into the depths of the holo interface. The first image was sudden and large, and they both jumped back reflexively at the brightness radiating from the semicircle before them. There was the face and form Narua knew so well, which belonged to a woman he had never met – his mother. She was sitting in an office. The wall behind her right shoulder had shelves of books, discs and unfamiliar artefacts, and a tall window at her left shoulder opened out into greenery and birdsong. A breeze played intermittently at the draperies.
    ‘Commander Nasiha,’ she said, looking straight into the vid recorder with a slightly distant, almost distracted gaze. ‘Formerly of the