Read Online Requiem for a Ruler of Worlds by Brian Daley - Free Book Online
Authors: Brian Daley
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conscientious efforts at an orderly departure, instructing him to return to his apt within the hour.
Now Floyt, Balensa, and Bear were in the little living room again; Balensa was quite cheery.
"Citizen Floyt may be gone for some time," Supervisor Bear was saying. If she seemed warmer to his wife, she was no more cordial to Floyt himself. "In the meantime, Earthservice will provide for you and your daughter, home-front heroines in a new kind of struggle."
Balensa touched up her hair; Bear couldn't have taken a tack that would have appealed to her more.
She was dressed in an outfit that would have been appropriate for marrying into the Borgia family.
Claiming the guest seat, Bear occupied couch center. Floyt had tried to keep himself out of the spotlight.
Now Bear leaned toward Balensa, who sat beside her. "During Citizen Hoyt's absence, you and your daughter will receive a special hardship allocation." She made a pass like a magician over a hat.
"Quarters and consumption allotments equivalent to those of a Bureaucrat Fifth Class, in recognition of your sacrifice."
Balensa was more than elated; she could hardly wait to see her husband go. Under the circumstances, Floyt couldn't much blame her. With the new situation occasioned by Weir's will, all thought of dissolving the marriage had of course been dropped, and, with an overly cheerful superficiality, Balensa was once again his wife.
"Of course," Bear cautioned, "we'll be counting on you to make yourself available for psychprop interviews, public service spots, morale campaigns, and so forth."
Balensa agreed fervently. Floyt knew Bear would get gallant, stoic, silently overjoyed support from that quarter. He also suspected that one of the people who would benefit most from the whole episode was Arlo Mote.
Floyt had had little time for personal preparations; somehow or other Earthservice had selected his guide-escort within a day or two of his first interview with Supervisor Bear. Now a huge plainclothes Peaceguardian waited outside the apt door. He or a colleague had accompanied the new Inheritor everywhere outside of workplace or home since Floyt had put on the belt. Floyt felt himself more prisoner than hero of the public weal, but no further attempts had been made to waylay him.
Floyt put a hand on the modest travel bag he was to take with him. Bear and Balensa had both assured him that his precious files and genealogical data would be safe. He was disinclined to believe them, but that hardly mattered to him by then. He worked at achieving a dulled, fatalistic acceptance of the fact that he had no choice but to go to Epiphany.
"This person who's to travel with me," he said abruptly, "who is … he? She?"
"He," Bear clarified. Balensa, whose countenance had suddenly filled with concern over the possibility of a female escort, now brightened.
"A veteran spacer named Alacrity Fitzhugh," the supervisor added. She knew her own inner relief—that after things had gone so terribly awry at Machu Picchu she'd been able to put them back on course again.
She'd been almost giddy with her own daring in the aftermath of that calamity. Fitzhugh had seemed an ideal candidate despite the fact that she'd been able to discover almost no truly reliable background data on him. What mattered was that he was, though young, a seasoned and widely traveled breakabout who'd survived dangerous situations and thrived in alien surroundings.
Perhaps as important, as a member of various guilds and unions, he could deadhead aboard almost any ship on which his principal, Floyt, might book passage, saving Project Shepherd enormous expense.
That was critical; the project's disastrous pilot mission had depleted the major part of its funding. Even if Bear had wanted to hire a qualified escort and pay his transportation costs, rather than flimflamming him into it, her funding wouldn't have allowed it, and the Alpha Bureaucrats were hardly of a mind to give her more money.
Until the fantastic
Now Floyt, Balensa, and Bear were in the little living room again; Balensa was quite cheery.
"Citizen Floyt may be gone for some time," Supervisor Bear was saying. If she seemed warmer to his wife, she was no more cordial to Floyt himself. "In the meantime, Earthservice will provide for you and your daughter, home-front heroines in a new kind of struggle."
Balensa touched up her hair; Bear couldn't have taken a tack that would have appealed to her more.
She was dressed in an outfit that would have been appropriate for marrying into the Borgia family.
Claiming the guest seat, Bear occupied couch center. Floyt had tried to keep himself out of the spotlight.
Now Bear leaned toward Balensa, who sat beside her. "During Citizen Hoyt's absence, you and your daughter will receive a special hardship allocation." She made a pass like a magician over a hat.
"Quarters and consumption allotments equivalent to those of a Bureaucrat Fifth Class, in recognition of your sacrifice."
Balensa was more than elated; she could hardly wait to see her husband go. Under the circumstances, Floyt couldn't much blame her. With the new situation occasioned by Weir's will, all thought of dissolving the marriage had of course been dropped, and, with an overly cheerful superficiality, Balensa was once again his wife.
"Of course," Bear cautioned, "we'll be counting on you to make yourself available for psychprop interviews, public service spots, morale campaigns, and so forth."
Balensa agreed fervently. Floyt knew Bear would get gallant, stoic, silently overjoyed support from that quarter. He also suspected that one of the people who would benefit most from the whole episode was Arlo Mote.
Floyt had had little time for personal preparations; somehow or other Earthservice had selected his guide-escort within a day or two of his first interview with Supervisor Bear. Now a huge plainclothes Peaceguardian waited outside the apt door. He or a colleague had accompanied the new Inheritor everywhere outside of workplace or home since Floyt had put on the belt. Floyt felt himself more prisoner than hero of the public weal, but no further attempts had been made to waylay him.
Floyt put a hand on the modest travel bag he was to take with him. Bear and Balensa had both assured him that his precious files and genealogical data would be safe. He was disinclined to believe them, but that hardly mattered to him by then. He worked at achieving a dulled, fatalistic acceptance of the fact that he had no choice but to go to Epiphany.
"This person who's to travel with me," he said abruptly, "who is … he? She?"
"He," Bear clarified. Balensa, whose countenance had suddenly filled with concern over the possibility of a female escort, now brightened.
"A veteran spacer named Alacrity Fitzhugh," the supervisor added. She knew her own inner relief—that after things had gone so terribly awry at Machu Picchu she'd been able to put them back on course again.
She'd been almost giddy with her own daring in the aftermath of that calamity. Fitzhugh had seemed an ideal candidate despite the fact that she'd been able to discover almost no truly reliable background data on him. What mattered was that he was, though young, a seasoned and widely traveled breakabout who'd survived dangerous situations and thrived in alien surroundings.
Perhaps as important, as a member of various guilds and unions, he could deadhead aboard almost any ship on which his principal, Floyt, might book passage, saving Project Shepherd enormous expense.
That was critical; the project's disastrous pilot mission had depleted the major part of its funding. Even if Bear had wanted to hire a qualified escort and pay his transportation costs, rather than flimflamming him into it, her funding wouldn't have allowed it, and the Alpha Bureaucrats were hardly of a mind to give her more money.
Until the fantastic
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