Dark Space - Marianne de Pierres [20]
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Trin left Malocchi and returned to the Palazzo but his father would not see him. The door Cavaliere presented arms before blocking his path when he tried to pass.
Frustrated, he hastened to the sitting room and checked his gratis rating on the familia e-boards. A bulletin had been posted stating that his status had been suspended temporarily. He could he not procure anything that required gratis without the Principe’s approval. With no other ‘external’ income, Trin had no tender. His thoughts flew first to his depleted bravura supply.
Panicking, he searched out Jilda. She was seated at her faux-Regence window, sober. He stood between her and the view, motioning the shutters to close. She would not ignore him as Franco had done.
In response to the sudden darkening of the room, the lights brightened into a splendorous, twinkling affair.
‘Restore my gratis, mama,’ he demanded.
She looked away from him. ‘I cannot, my son.’
Furious, Trin punched the shutters. But Jilda kept her composure.
He stared at her with suspicion. She wore a new morning costume, uncreased for once, and her eyes seemed clear, almost bright. Beyond her, through the patinated screens of her sleeping area, he could see her bed ruffled and turned down on both sides. ‘What promises has he made you?’
‘Do not speak of your papa in that tone, Trinder. He is doing what is right, what is needed. I have spoiled you. An uuli, Trin. How could you do such a thing after Franco has risked all to make you Pilot First?’
‘It was an accident. And what do you care for an uuli?’ Trin was beset by an urge to hit Jilda. The smallest of attentions from Franco and she became compliant to a man who had no interest in her. How could he, Trin, have been bred from such a pathetic woman?
Instead, he inhaled deeply, composing himself. There were other ways to hurt her. ‘He is not punishing me because of the uuli, mama. Ask him about his new mistress. Ask him about her taste for younger men. And then remember that I am your son. My failings are yours. And in the end Franco will make you pay for them.’ He motioned the shutters open and the lights dimmed. ‘He won’t stay in your bed for long, you know. The new woman he has is far more beautiful.’
As Trin let himself out of his mother’s apartment he saw to his satisfaction, that she was crying.
Unsure of what to do next, he called the chauffeur to take him back to Centrale. Deep in gloomy thought, he saw nothing of the staggering view as they descended Mount Pell. The rugged vista of purple iron rock and red dust plains were as opaque to him as the workings of his father’s mind.
The Galiotto chauffeur roused him from his brooding. ‘Should I wait, Don?’
Trin shook his head. ‘I will summon you later. I have…business here.’
The Galiotto nodded but proffered no further comment.
How long, Trin wondered, before all the Mobile knew of his fall from favour?
He located the main administration section and asked to be shown to an office.
‘There are no available offices in Centrale,’ the young woman to whom he had spoken told him. Around her, others hid their faces behind their deskfilms, smirking.
‘But there must be. Where will I go?’ Childish anguish overwhelmed him and tears threatened.
A dark-haired Cabone working quietly in the corner spoke up. ‘I have not been here long but I think there may be a vacant office in the malformed section.’ She touched her deskfilm and searched through the building plan.
The others glanced at each other with barely suppressed astonishment—the young Principe in an office in the malformed section.
The Cabone scowled at them and stood up. ‘I will show you if you would like,’ she said.
Trin nodded gratefully and followed her out into the corridor. She led him down to the refectory level, deliberately keeping a distance between them.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked after a few moments of walking.
‘Rantha.’
‘Why are you the only one who would help me, Rantha?’
She shrugged. ‘Perhaps they enjoyed your humiliation. It is not often the Mobile see the Crown discomforted.’
‘And