say. I’ve always thought academics should get
a little slurry on their boots from time to time.”
I took a deep breath. If Freyda Mar was coming to fill my place for a year, there
was no way I was getting out of this. “Fine. I see I’ve got two months before I go.
When’s Dr. Mar coming?”
“In a month’s time. You’ll have the joy of showing her the ropes.”
The idea of me—
me
—showing Dr. Freyda Mar how to do my job for a
whole month
so thrilled me to the depths of my techie soul that I completely forgot I was supposed
to be angry about leaving for an entire year to go … where? On a wild goose chase
as part anthropologist, part diplomat?
The latter half of the week rolled around, and I was on my way to Dllenahkh’s office
at the usual time to discuss the inspection schedule. I did have a moment’s pause
at his door, wondering how he would react to the news of my assignment, but it was
only a moment. Dllenahkh’s secretary was of the Gilroy stamp: young, gawky, and more
than a little curious at my hesitation.
“Councillor Dllenahkh
is
expecting you,” he prompted kindly.
“Thank you, Joral,” I muttered, and went through.
I tried to explain to Dllenahkh what I thought was going to happen—my assignment,
my replacement, and so forth. I kept my tone neutral; I don’t believe in behaving
either disgruntled or gleeful about work-related matters, especially around people
outside my department. He leaned forward, set his elbows on the desk, and contemplated
his fingers in silence for a while. During that while, I finally realized he was not
in the least surprised.
“Oh. Oh, no. Oh—” I began to swear. One of the advantages of having languages as a
hobby is that it can take you quite a while to run out of swear words. I hadn’t even
exhausted my list from the dead languages I know when I paused for breath and Dllenahkh
spoke up, still apparently addressing his fingers.
“Could it be that you are vexed with me, Second Assistant Delarua?”
“Could it be that you are
laughing
at me, Councillor Dllenahkh? Are
you
the reason for this complication in my life? Please, explain this madness!”
His brows drew together briefly, erasing that faint suggestion of suppressed amusement
that had so irritated me, and he finally looked me in the eye. “I fear that you have
not been fully briefed as yet. No doubt your superior has informed you of all that
she knows and a more detailed mission dossier is forthcoming. I assure you, this is
not madness.”
He got up and walked to the archaic map board that showedTlaxce Province and the regions bordering it. He faced it, placed his hands behind
his back, and unexpectedly exhaled a large sigh.
“Before I begin, I have not properly thanked you for your recommendation that we seek
the assistance of the Ministry of Family Planning and Maintenance. As a result, some
of the custody cases are being reviewed, and counseling is being provided for the
parents and families involved. While it is unlikely that all cases will be resolved
amicably, the situation is less fraught than previously. Furthermore, any future attempts
at cross-cultural partnering will be channeled through the ministry’s programs for
that purpose.”
“Not bad,” I said, pleased and mollified. “They’ve been establishing and maintaining
unions for generations now. They’re quite good at what they do—not perfect, but far
better than nothing.”
He glanced back at me briefly, then raised a hand to indicate the provinces. “Tlaxce,
which is the largest province, is also one of the most genetically homogeneous provinces
due to the presence of the capital and the main spaceport. We have been advised that
if we are seeking Cygnians with a high percentage of taSadiri genetic heritage, we
should go to the outlying regions of the neighboring provinces.”
“Still clinging to your concept of purity?” I said