Har Norma Byukan
The velvet night seemed to pour down from the heavens, across the formal gardens spread out below,
up and over the railing of the veranda, past Norma, through her residence's flung-wide doors, and
into the living room. Like a cool and inspirational nocturne, the air flowed around the teeming
revelers as they drank, ate, laughed, sang, danced, talked, flirted, caressed, kissed, and
somewhere on the grounds, she was sure, fucked, during the largest party she could remember in the
history of Byukan-Hamil Direvnya.
Norma strolled along the veranda, with its wide planks of ipę-wood and stately railing of ornate
balusters under a wide banister. The air carried more than sounds. It wafted gentle fragrances
from her gardens, chanpa, hauhau, júzi, and there, a putrid nip of durian. It spread the aromas
that fed the revel, visceral appeal of roasted hakra, tannic bite of wine, invigorating prick of
dill, bright sparkle of sugar. It fed back the scents of the partygoers themselves: synthetics
that were cloying or startling or merely pleasant; yet underneath, the zhuhndí smells of sweat and
lust and vomit.
Despite the lateness, the party still thrived, her guests moving quickly from one impromptu
activity to another. She'd invited everyone in the direvnya, every member of consortium staff,
every visiting combine liaison, all support personnel, everyone, to come over and celebrate, to
take a break from the rigors of supervising a continent in the depths of recession and a consortium
in the throes of its first major competition in many years. As Senior Partner, she excused
everyone from night shifts and told them to let the automata look after everything for a while,
from infraware to children to daily reporting.
Inside, at the logistics center of this, the public part of her quarters, her primary candidates
for major domus, sénéchal, and count of palace ensured everything ran smoothly. They didn't
realize that the extent of their future participation in the Court of Norma lay in these
last-minute, high-pressure duties. Nevertheless, by this time tomorrow, she would know who would
preside in which office when the transition was complete.
A transition she would start this very evening, amidst this very party. Start right after Tidhar
arrived.
Norma paused. A line of dancers brushed by her with large grins, hopping kicks, and boozy breath.
Once again, she sent her attention to the top of the stairs at the center of the living room.
First, Tidhar would appear; she would greet him discreetly; then she would assemble the Team of
Partners and disband it. Crumple it up like a piece of obsolete hardcopy and fling it onto the
ash-heap of history. But first, Tidhar — where was he?
There. He stepped cautiously up into the room. To her, he stood out from the swirl of bodies of
all color, with his pale, almost pink skin, tempered by occasional freckles, its fairness
emphasized by his shock of auburn hair. Slender in frame and muscles, he stood easily, though his
dark eyes, just a touch slanted, glimmered moodily as they searched for her.
She wanted to fly across the room and launch herself at him, have him catch her easily, then yield
to her desperation and sink with her to the floor, ripping her plunging bodice from her, stripping
the pleated skirt off her hips, then mounting her with all the passion pent-up during the last
thirteen days and nights.
Instead, sipping air to cool her own ardor, she marched across the living room, slipping between
conversation groups, losing him, glimpsing him, closing the gap between them.
They faced each other.
His face exploded with delight. A broad smile creased his cheeks, burnished from sun and wind; his
white teeth shone in counterpoint. He stepped toward her, started to open his arms to sweep her up
— and checked himself. He suddenly realized the publicness of this meeting, so different from all
their others, and shrank from the implications of the intimate greeting he obviously had in mind.
Norma, too, hesitated. So much about the two of them existed in the past, so much more she had
dreamed for the future, but here and now, all of that paled into memory and wishes, cerebral
aspects of physicality. All she could do right now was walk calmly up to him, bow over her clasped
hands, and welcome him to her party.
She couldn't even drag him off for an intense, but brief greeting; people would notice and their
gossip would detract from her greater purpose now, becoming queen.
"How was your journey?" Norma asked as she straightened. She inhaled and caught his familiar
odor, clean, fresh, faintly spicy. It tantalized her; she fought it.
Tidhar lingered over his namaste, then raised sad eyes under a troubled brow. "A powerful
instruction in aspects of life I had never encountered. I don't know whether to be outraged,
shocked, or grateful."
Norma examined this man, who appeared to be her lover, but carried with him now a hint of gravity
and purpose. She heard it, not just in his words, but also his voice. She saw it not just in his
carriage, but also the depths of his eyes. She felt it not just in the warmth of his body, but
also in the maturity ripening in his bearing.
Fate had delivered such a one, such an incendiary lover, such a brilliant mind, with such potential
as her partner, at just the right time. Once again, as it had numerous times since Irwin's Limited
meeting had spurred her ambition to a whole new level, a tingling and canary-yellow sense of
destiny washed over her.
Amid these thoughts, she smiled at Tidhar and said, "I'm so glad." She took his elbow to steer him
toward the servers. "I'm glad that you're learning rather than resisting. Change can be difficult
for some people to handle."
He nodded appreciation, then waved a hand at the festivities. "What's going on around here?"
"A joyous taste of the future," Norma said airily, "to cover the death of the past." She peeked up
at his handsome figure. "Enjoy it. I've got to go meet with some people who still think they'll
have a job tomorrow. I'll come back to you later."
"But I thought—"
"Later, Tidhar. I want to know all about your excursion later. I want to share my plans
with you later. I want to enjoy you and you all alone — later."
"O.K., Norma. I understand."
She touched his hand, stroking her middle finger down the smooth alley between his thumb and
forefinger, and sank into his gaze and scent for just the most fleeting connection. Then she
turned away and gripped the cameo pendant that lay between her breasts and connected her to her
office. "Assemble the Team of Partners for a can-feel immediately," she whispered into it. "Tell
them to meet me at top of the stairs in my living room."
#
Compared to the consortium's can-feel room, Norma's was cramped, spare, and flimsy. Its chairs
were straight-backed and scarcely padded. Its overhead vault barely cleared their heads. Its
walls showed the sickly white of unpainted epox-plaster, its floor the raw beige of epox-crete. It
stank of unfinished construction, a nose-filling flat odor. Norma intended the place to seem
impatient, incomplete, inhospitable.
She set an example for the others by sitting down and tapping her foot. Idombruce, without agenda,
followed and sat next to her.
Then, the Regional Partners: Leez (Hubei), Schuess (Jiangsu), Mayubu (Hunan), Al-Sen (Fujian),
Wari (Shanxi), Rai (Guizhou), and Eshba (Guangdong). They seemed somber, perhaps compensating for
intoxication, perhaps wary of the coming seconds. Perfume and the scent of ethanol oozed from
them. Will I find Dain's replacement among these?
Dain came next-to-last. Was that courtesy or alignment? He'd seemed solid, secure, proper in
their quick will-see yesterday, but Norma discounted appearances according to ambition, and Dain
was exercising more of that than most people these days.
Irwin stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind him. Its solid thump told them, that like
its plush counterpart, this room was soundproof.
Immediately, Norma said, "Irwin, you asked for this little get-together. What do you have in
mind?"
Irwin peered down at her, his smooth, stiff hair brushing the ceiling. "An Organizational meeting,
Norma."
Norma stared back. Anticipation drew taut the fabric of her mind. A chill stifled her reactions,
leaving them below her consciousness, except for the ones that drove her words. "Good. Let the
record show that I, too, favor identifying this meeting/can-be-felt as one to decide matters of
Organization within the Byukan-Hamil Consortium." And let the meeting automaton record how I close
down all of Irwin's pretensions and extinguish his ambitions. "How say you all?"
Norma watched as the other Partners voted to support the joint motion. Her conversion of Irwin's
agenda to her own had driven the seven Regionals to displacement behaviors:
* Leez studied her right thumb as it stroked the one by one. Her loose, shapeless form draped
uselessly in expensive fashion.
* Schuess pondered the ceiling, his jaw working as he chewed the inside of his bottom lip. His
drawn face and slack posture meant he wasn't get to the SkeetR court very often these days.
* Mayubu sat quietly and returned her scrutiny with mellow, though puffy eyes. His large, brown
body seemed at peace with the very fabric of Existence.
* Al-Sen, Wari, Rai, and Eshba all watched Irwin like petrified monkeys. They smelled nervous,
even queasy.
Irwin must have sucked them into whatever impossibly grand scheme he had in mind, had procured
their votes with promises of riches and power. That gave him eight, altogether. He needed just
one more for a super-majority, enough to overwhelm her veto as Senior Partner — if that were the
only trump she held.
Would it be Idombruce? The seedy old man worked over a plate of food, teasing multi-colored
morsels out of their piles — she could perceive olive oil and pesto among other spices — and into
his pasty mouth. No, totally unaware of the magnitude of this occasion, he will vote with me, as
always.
Dain then. He sat upright and odorless in his chair beside her, assuming precise comfort in its
straightness. What could Irwin have offered him that bettered the authority he has already tasted
from me? Perhaps, he's only leading Irwin along into a meeting like this, so that we — he and I
— can secure our victory over them all.
For Dain knew, as did all the people in the room, that only an Organizational meeting can truly
change the patterns enforced by the consortium's policyware. Only here can they set and reset the
imprimaturs that form the foundation for all permissions within the virtual organization,
permissions that determine what can be done — and who can do it — within the zhuhndí consortium
itself, out there in physical reality with all its curses and blessings, all made possible through
the consortium and its patterns.
An assessment in three slow blinks of an eye. Norma said, "Meeting, is the record active?"
"Yes," said a plain automated voice from the Em-Deh alcove near the entrance.
"Are we in Organization meeting?"
"Yes."
"Very well." Norma crossed her legs, settled her skirt over them, then lifted her gaze to Irwin.
"What do you have in mind?"
Still standing, Irwin solemnly locked eyes with her, then lifted them to the room. He folded his
fingers together and tightened them. "These days, unh — ah, uh, sorry — these days find us
racked with torment and turmoil. They—"
Norma cut in: "Irwin, drop the rhetoric. Make your proposal."
He bowed his head to her, then ponderously lifted a foot onto his chair and leaned on his raised
thigh, lowering his voice to match his confiding pose. He refolded his hands and squeezed them.
"I, unh — I move that we dissolve Byukan-Hamil Consortium and disperse its assets across ten
macro-combines. We should organize the divestiture by geography according to gross revenue from
existing contracts."
"Aren't you leaving someone out?"
"Not at all, Norma." His knuckles showed white as he tightened his fingers together. Sweat
prickled his brow and tainted the slow-moving air. "As former Senior Partner and sponsor of the
innovative Rendezvous of Futures, you should lead an independent combine focused on research and
development, jointly funded by the macro-combines. That way, you could show us all the right ways
into the future."
"Nicely put." He's working hard, Norma thought. Too bad it's all futile. "What happens to the
Rendezvous?"
"We let it run to completion, of course, with Dain as strategist. I don't think we could implement
this divestiture in less time, anyway. Do you?"
"No. Who gets what?"
Irwin raised his head and scanned the others. "We need to move around, cover different
territories, get out of this hideout in the mountains, get closer to our customers." He glanced
back at Norma. "We'll leave you Byukan-Hamil. Beyond that, we'll decide later."
Norma switched her focus as well. She turned to Dain. "What do you get out of all this?"
He looked over at her, his face calm. "One of the new macro-combines, I should imagine, as each of
the Partners do."
So neutral, on nobody's side — yet. Norma shifted her attention to Irwin again. "And what do you
expect to come out of this — this divestiture?"
"Competition, renewed vigor, an end to recession and unemployment."
"No, Irwin, what about you, you personally?"
"I'd like to assume the additional responsibility of liaison among the macro-combines, a sort of
strategist position, you might say."
Grandfather to an entire continent, in other words. Norma leaned back and folded her arms. Enough
of this nonsense. "I have an alternate proposal. Would you like to hear it?"
Irwin nodded. She glanced at the others, stirring secondary reactions, a few quick nods, a few
blank stares, a glare from Mayubu. She waited another moment, fighting a grin, savoring their
anxious smells, then she said, "Invoke imprimatur."
"Ready," the automated voice said.
"I, Har Norma Byukan, invoke the Proprietor's imprimatur, inherited from Har Danielle Byukan and
Mna Josef Hamil who shared that primary role when they created the consortium." Norma gazed on
each of the other faces, drinking in their shock, relishing their squirming. "As Proprietor, I
revoke the Team of Partners, a secondary structure, effective immediately. Acknowledge."
"Insufficient authority," the meeting automaton responded.
"What?" Norma whirled to face the Em-Deh alcove. "I inherited the Proprietor imprimatur, both
logically as the properly installed Senior Partner, and legally, in my parents' Last Will and
Testament. All the proper procedures were followed. I confirmed this last night!"
"Another person shares this imprimatur. Such data is not visible to co-executors of an
imprimatur. Only a superior imprimatur may access this data."
"Aiee!"
"Nic Idombruce Colditzescaper," the automaton went on, "as co-executor, do you concur with the
proposal put forth by Har Norma?"
"No."
The word broke softly over Norma. She jerked back to see Idombruce running a finger around his
empty plate. He lifted the finger, sopping with sauce, then eyed Norma and sucked on it. His eyes
glinted in the pseudo-solemn ruins of his face. His retribution came to her like the reek of hot
brass.
"Idombruce," she whispered without meaning to.
He settled his plate. "I was there, too, Norma. Your mom, your dad, they wanted me to share in
the consortium the same way as I shared in so much of their lives, as an equal."
Images flayed her mind, bodies intertwined in shocking pairs, then in threesomes, stinking of
arduous sex. Out of them rose her parents' portrait, with the sordid face of Idombruce
superimposed.
"Let's deal, Norma," Idombruce said.
Staggering, Norma broke through debris raining down out of the past. Not ready, not interested,
she answered absently, "What do you want?"
Idombruce pointed the wet finger at her. "Convert the Rendezvous into a permanent project and make
Dain strategist and tactician over it, with continent-wide authority over related combines." Then
he blinked, and abruptly, the familiar Idombruce looked at her through rheumy eyes. "Th-that's
all."
"Well-spoken, Idombruce," Dain said.
Idombruce whipped a glance at Dain, then restored his flinty gaze.
Dain! Norma didn't wrench around to stare at the small man. Norma didn't sigh. She continued to
watch Idombruce.
Dain had schemed for extra leverage with her. Ironic that he would use up this excellent coup de
main on something she was going to grant him anyway. In her new structure, Dain would have run the
continent's life-support combines, all essential services — and attracted everyone's attention —
while she started down the path of harnessing and separating Popovich's infrastructure, assembled
her court and its officers, and harassed the rest of Yeibichai — particularly Günter Gatogrebok —
into letting her become queen.
What should she do now? Should she punish Dain?
No, she should attend to business. She should shake Idombruce into line and wield the imprimatur
as she intended. Then, she could punish Dain.
"Do this for me, Idombruce." Play the familiar patterns. "You know how much I depend on your
support."
"Not this time."
"Don't get in the way! You don't know how to play in this game."
"You mean I'm too old. I know what you're thinking, Norma. I've known all along. I was just too
loyal, I guess, to your parents' memory. I didn't notice what you were doing to their creation,
this consortium that should've benefited the people of this continent, but has impoverished and
enslaved them instead.
"No, Norma, I used to be too old, when I kowtowed to you, when I echoed your words. No longer."
His nostrils flared as though smelling her defeat.
Anger drove words through Norma's mind, words from years of coddling this fool. But she couldn't
use them now. Dain had armored the old man too well. She struggled for another line of attack.
"Idombruce," Irwin said from behind her, "have you thought which geography you'd like for your
macro-combine?"
"Well, yes, I've always take a liking for the southern Guizhou Region."
"Let's set aside those names, Idombruce. We're talking western coastline here, aren't we? North
or south of the Sicilian Peninsula?"
"South, particularly the Cavilli Inlet."
"A lovely area, so dynamic in the fall. Where would you set up your headquarters?"
Norma stood up. The Partners had cooled; they no longer smelled afraid; she had to break the
flow. She took two steps to the wall, turned, and leaned back against it. With a warm smile, she
shook her head at Idombruce and said, "I've be waiting for you, the real you, to come back,
Idombruce. I remember you talking with my parents, your foresight, your persistence. Just the
kind of man I need to take over the Rendezvous of Futures. Don't settle for a tenth of the
continent when you could manage the core services for the whole thing!
"Think about it, Idombruce!" Think about this, Dain. "You controlling the destiny of Popovich's
unemployed. You deciding which of their ideas become zhuhndí and which fizzle in concept. You
setting the priorities of every life-support combine on the continent, food, shelter, clothing,
transportation, anshin, and ancillary services. You determining the quality of life for every
zhee-tel in every collective." How does losing all that affect your puny schemes, Dain?
Norma focused on Idombruce, noticed his eyes twitch wide, his jaw drop behind his flaccid lips, but
she could tell that she had rattled Irwin — he set his foot down and straightened — and rocked
Dain — his eyelids slipped slightly, converting his face from observor to combatant. The air
began to sour again.
"The Rendezvous?" Idombruce croaked, then swallowed hard. "And all supporting combines?"
"Yes, indeed, Idombruce, starting tomorrow." Norma lifted her smile to the rest of the room. "And
I'm going to need another consortium and another chief executive to take over all the other
Byukan-Hamil combines, to command the continent's infrastructure, to guide the collective
entertainments and luxuries, and to manage all the other incidentals that make modern life so
wonderful. Think about that!"
She met each pair of eyes, called each name, left behind a rustle of greed, a scent of baited
breath, corrupting their union of purpose. "Mayubu. Leez. Schuess. Al-Sen. Wari. Rai.
Eshba." She pointedly skipped Dain and with some effort, even included, "Irwin."
Dain held up his hands as though surrendering. "All right, all right, Norma, I'm sorry." He
draped himself over his chair, worked his face into a plea with rueful grin. Lack of scent
betrayed his apparent distress. "Put yourself in my place. You'd have done the same too, am I
right? You were incognito; I was out of touch with you. I couldn't tell what you were thinking,
what with all the changes going on across the consortium. That's the way you wanted it, am I
right?"
"Dain," Irwin interjected, "your little sob story can wait."
"Do you mind? I've got the floor now; the meeting's mine. Am I right?"
"Yes," said the meeting automaton.
"So, Norma, there I am, on my own, working my little keister off on this project you tossed at me,
and I'm liking it. A lot of good can come out of this Rendezvous, already has. And I come across
this little data nugget about Idombruce and the imprimatur. So, I ask myself, how would Norma use
this? A little leverage, I answer. So, don't blame me. I just did it your way."
"Are you done?" Irwin demanded.
Dain rolled his gaze from Norma to Idombruce, back to Norma, and finally to Irwin. "Yep," he
said.
"Idombruce," Norma said. "I can see that you're tempted. Let's agree on this, team up on the
imprimatur, and get this deal rolling."
"Same deal as Dain had me ask for?"
"Same deal."
"Idombruce, old man—" Mayubu started.
"Idombruce—" Irwin interrupted, then frustration bloating his face, yielded.
"Idombruce, old man," Mayubu rumbled on. "Remember our last fishin' trip? Anchored in the middle
of Cavilli River as the bore charged down on us, hangin' on as we topped the swell, then strikin'
at the ke-tsiap as they surfed along behind the crest, watchin' those huge fish ride their tails as
they fought against our lines, fightin' them for delicious seconds until they tired, then ferryin'
them to the shore for grillin' and eatin'. Wouldn't that be great after-work sport? With your
office a stone's throw from the Inlet? Wouldn't that be better than sweatin' out the summer in the
middle of the continent at the Rendezvous?"
Norma watched Irwin relax, Mayubu glisten as he nuzzled Idombruce toward their macro-combine
vision. She had to admire the big, black man's skill, even while she set up her own responses to
his ploys. Yet, she caught a whiff of his endemic sesame as though he, too, were excited about
something.
"Oh, I do enjoy ke-tsiap," Idombruce smiled, "but the Rendezvous, the scope, the impact, the
excitement."
"I do see that, my friend, but you and I both know that your talents lie in product deployment,
takin' a product when it lies in concept and makin' it available around the world. I'd sure like
to use those talents of yours, and I'm sure Norma and I can arrange for you to work for me in that
capacity — when I take over the Rendezvous. Isn't that right, Norma?"
Irwin jerked as though bitten. Norma grinned at Mayubu, then changed it into a warm smile as she
nodded at Idombruce. It was wonderful to watch her seeds of greed sprout before her eyes, even
smell their intoxication working. "Shall we invoke the imprimatur?"
"Idombruce," Irwin started, paused, then resumed when he found himself with the floor. "I, unh, I,
uh." He closed his eyes, twisted his hands together, then opened his eyes again. "Idombruce, I
also appreciate fishing trips, as you well know, but I'd like to take you back to another trip of
ours, not too long ago. To a direvnya not far from the Cavilli River, where all the houses had
reverted to gong-she, where all the restaurants had either closed or offered only gong-shi-tang
food, where no one worked because we — you, me, and the rest of this so-called Team of Partners —
had destroyed their jobs with our regulations and overhead!
"We saw then how consolidation and centralization had destroyed the very heart of our continent,
and we vowed to change that. We made a promise that day, not to each other, but to the zhee-tely
in that ruined direvnya, that we would restore competition and freedom. We haven't kept that
promise, Nic Idombruce — not yet. Don't destroy your chance to do so with short-sightedness, with
greed, with that sweet buzz in your mind set up by the attentions of these conniving, selfish
bureaucrats!"
Irwin slowly closed his mouth and his eyes distant, eased himself onto his chair. He didn't watch
how Idombruce took his words.
Norma did. Irwin's appeal resonated with her understanding of Idombruce. Why hadn't she seen this
way to his morality, instead of appealing to his instincts? Frozen, she waited to hear him agree
with Irwin and torpedo her only chance at ruling Popovich as it — and she — deserved. Where was
Fate now?
Dain slipped out of his slouch, leaned across Norma's empty chair, and patted Idombruce on the
hand. "Irwin's right. Do what's best for the Collective." After another pat, Dain pulled back.
Norma thought she caught a whiff of something from him as he straightened in his chair, posture
rigid once again, then set up a close study of Idombruce's reaction.
Idombruce turned slowly in his chair as he surveyed everyone in the room, a complex expression on
his face. He seemed to be weighing many choices and somehow finding guidance in what he saw, even
in the long seconds he stared at Norma, long seconds in which his countenance didn't change, until
Norma noticed that he wasn't even blinking, and she reached out a hand and touched his shoulder,
and Idombruce fell sideways onto Eshba, then crashed to the floor.
Norma crouched immediately, fumbling around Idombruce's flabby neck for a pulse.
Abruptly, Leez brushed Norma's hand away and expertly probed beneath his jaw. She barked,
"Med-tek, get the med-tek cart in here now!." She rocked back on her heels and knees and
tugged at Idombruce's jutting shoulder.
"Done," said the meeting automaton. "Alert the anshin as well?"
Norma pushed with Leez's pull. Idombruce rolled onto his back, pushing out air drenched in a smell
that chilled Norma. Apparently oblivious to it, Leez arranged his head.
"No." Norma squeezed her eyes shut to clear them. "No anshin." She straightened out Idombruce's
legs. If Idombruce were dead, she didn't want the meeting disrupted, and if he wasn't, well, she'd
be more than glad to abort the meeting — then.
"As you wish."
The med-tek cart pushed open the door. Leez screamed at Irwin, "Get out of the way!"
He lifted his chair and scrambled back. The cart rumbled on, its large, soft tires fending off
obstacles. Leez lifted and stretched herself across Idombruce, elbowed Norma aside, and snared the
face-hugger suggested by the cart. She rocked back amid the sting of antiseptic, fed the device's
tube into Idombruce's mouth, released it to do its job, and reached again for med-tek.
The face-hugger launched its red flag.
Digits, mostly zeroes, glared at them. Leez gasped and fumbled to put a chest-hugger in place.
Norma saw the flag's displays fade and its red color drain, leaving a field of white, the color of
death. She touched Leez and drew her attention to the flag. Together, they watched black letters
form and pronounce a date-time for death as well as a cause: "Massive cerebrovascular accident,
hemorrhagic in nature. No current treatment sufficient to avoid death. Sorry for your loss."
After another second, it added, "Shortfall in Life-Expectancy = 0.13E+10 seconds."
Leez settled back, her mouth sagging in shock, her scent signalling fear mixed with lilacs.
Norma rose to her feet. "Meeting, are you aware of the change to the status of Nic Idombruce
Colditzescaper?"
"Yes."
"Does anyone inherit his access to the Proprietor imprimatur?"
"No."
The word jolted her, a wondrous surge of power. "I, Har Norma Byukan, invoke the Proprietor's
imprimatur." She looked at no one. She concentrated on the moment. "As Proprietor, I revoke the
Team of Partners, a secondary structure, effective immediately. Acknowledge."
"Done."
Norma closed her eyes, lifted her chin as her back and neck muscles relaxed in a wave, felt that
wave sweep over her mind in tones of canary-yellow, and thanked Fate for this miracle.
Chairs scratched the floor, banged on it. Air stirred with myriad body odors. Clothes whisked.
Feet shuffled. The door handle clattered.
Norma opened her eyes. Wari slipped out the room's doorway. Schuess, Al-Sen, Rai, and Eshba
followed like goats, trooping past Irwin's dejected figure. Even Leez climbed to her feet. Mayubu
sat with his eyes closed, his hands pressed together in prayer, his lips moving silently. And
Dain? Dain, unmoved, used his eyes to sort through the situation.
"Wait," Norma ordered. "I have positions to fill in the new structure." She smiled, a magnanimous
and queenly expression, and gestured at the chairs. "Please sit down so that we can talk."
Slowly, quietly, the former Partners retreated toward their chairs. Pleased, Norma stepped away
from Idombruce's body, past the inert med-tek cart, Dain, and Irwin, and shoved the door closed.
"If you stay," she said to them all, "you stay with no blemish or fault. We continue as before, as
part of a powerful and well-coordinated team.
"However." She made her voice crack. "If I tell you to get out, you will leave immediately.
Leave not just this room, but the direvnya as well. A train departs at mid-day tomorrow — be on
it. I'll send people to help you pack. Do you understand?"
Their nods were meager, but definite.
"Good."
Irwin, eyes focused in the distance, straightened with a big inhalation. Norma braced herself for
a speech. Instead, the big man reached past her to the door, pulled it open, and stepped out, all
without a backward look. He closed the door calmly behind him.
Surprised, relieved, Norma opened her mouth to continue.
"Har Norma, if I may," Dain said. He sat close in front of her, his face lifted confidently.
"Of course."
"Har Norma—"
"Amein," Mayubu said. His eyes snapped open. His hands dropped to his thighs. He looked around
at the other ex-Partners and finally, at Norma. He settled his face into a stolid mask, then
pushed himself to his feet. Coolly, he walked to the door, opened it, took one long pace through
it, and shut it behind him. The breeze from it hinted at sesame. I could get him back, if I
wanted, to replace Dain. He's probably the only one of the bunch who could do that.
"Har Norma?" Dain continued.
Impatience, seasoned with loss, gnawed at Norma, but she nodded.
"Har Norma, we still face competition in Ganj Dareh. At this juncture, we should allow no foreign
combine, particularly not Gatogrebok, a foothold on our continent. Therefore, we can ill-afford a
transition in management. By today's end, thirty-six thousand, five hundred Gastarbeiter will
populate the Rendezvous. So far, they have produced three-hundred and six proposals for new
products and services. You should also know that their presence in Ganj Dareh has placed
considerable stress on the Collective, but polls show that we are still losing the selection."
"All the more reason to change directions!" Schuess interrupted with a tremble in his voice and an
acrid, sweaty stench rolling off him. "A stressed Collective is not a happy one, and unhappiness
is the root of change. Har Norma, I—"
Dain whirled from his seat, stalked toward Schuess, then stretched out his hand, a single finger
extended in threat, edging closer and closer to the other man's cheek. Schuess cowered back, his
eyes bulging, his fear reeking.
A sigh of realization broke from Norma. Fate hadn't removed Idombruce from her path. Dain had.
Abruptly, images from her parlor sparked through her mind, Dain, the toromiru tree, shadows, and
she remembered why she had bestowed imprimatur on him then. A grin tugged at her mouth. She had
not failed in her assessment. The grin broke out. Not at all.
Time to move on. "Dain," she cooed, "sit down. You can stay." Norma scanned over the other
faces, settled on one. "Leez, you stay. The rest of you, get out, and mind what I said about that
train tomorrow."
The others grumbled then, with nothing left to lose, as they trudged from the room. Finally, they
were gone, along with their confused scents.
Dain sat by Norma. Leez sat as far from him as she could. Norma smiled with approval and said,
"Meeting?"
"Yes," the automaton answered.
Norma studied Dain as she said, "Create a consortium pro tempore using the
presidential template, name 'Rendezvous of Futures.' Jik Dain Bedlip will be president." No
reaction from Dain. "Apply the current structure of the Rendezvous to this new consortium." Maybe
a twitch of approval. "Consortium expires when Ganj Dareh Direvnya selects an anshin combine."
Not even a flinch. "At that time, I resume charge of those resources. Acknowledge." Ah, at last,
a smell seeped from Dain, reminding Norma of dog, a gamey, wild kind of dog.
"Done."
Norma turned to Leez, who responded by preening, and said, "Create a permanent consortium using the
board-of-trustees template, name 'Popovich Preserve.' Za Leez Doconrice will be chair of the
board. Assign all combines not affiliated with the Rendezvous of Futures to this consortium. How
many is that?"
"Twenty-three thousand, two-hundred thirty-eight."
Leez sat up, her eyes widening in pleasure. Norma smiled back and said, "Acknowledge."
"Done."
"Congratulations!" Norma reached out and lifted her new executives to their feet. "This calls for
a drink." At Leez's hesitation, she added, "I'll have someone come clean this up." Then, she led
them out of the can-feel room.
The party had slowed without waning. The living room, and the veranda beyond the doors, still
hosted many people, but they chatted quietly, their hands empty or their glasses nearly so. The
night air still fluttered by, carrying mostly garden smells.
Tidhar detached himself from a nearby covey. He looked subdued, though a grin quirked across his
lips. Good, she thought. Tidhar should meet Dain at least once before he's sent to kill him.
Norma halted and looked over at Leez, a minor intrusion on the moment. "Fetch champagne, please.
Ask for the Dom Perignon I set aside for this moment."
Eyes roving with curiosity, Leez excused herself just as Tidhar approached.
Norma noticed a faint crease forming between Dain's brows. She murmured, "Dain, I liked to
introduce Bis Tidhar Holong. Tidhar, this is Jik Dain Bedlip."
"We know each other," Dain said, his voice a controlled whisper.
Why didn't I know that? Norma checked Tidhar's reaction.
"How have you been, Jik Dain?" said Tidhar pleasantly.
No matter, Norma decided. Tidhar will implement my wishes regardless. Dain destroys the old
ways. My prince will initiate the new ways by destroying Dain.
"Prospering." Dain swivelled his eyes back to Norma. "Within constraints, of course, but
prospering nonetheless." He bowed slightly. "Please excuse me. I have work to do." He narrowed
his eyes slightly. "Deadlines, you know." He turned away just as Leez arrived with a tray of
crystal flutes and a tall bottle drizzling tangy vapor from its open throat.
Norma watched Dain, his pinched shoulders, his hair-deprived head, descend her staircase, marching
down to his duties, no longer the stirring and dynamic agent from before, now more like a lackey
dispatched with faint hopes and a death sentence.
Tidhar tapped her shoulder. She turned and accepted a glass. Smiling, she saluted them and
drank.
As she did so, Norma soared with satisfactions, of success, of revenge, of pride, but over and
under it all, she reveled in her destiny, a canary-yellow ramp to the future Norma Regent.
