Grail - Elizabeth Bear [99]
18
a sort of embrace
There comes no sleep nor any love.
—WILLIAM MORRIS, “The Chapel in Lyoness”
Benedick was often intentionally infuriating. Tristen thought he cultivated the air as a sort of privacy shield, a means of keeping the world at arm’s length and maintaining the distance, and thus the authority of command.
But it had never worked particularly well on Tristen, being older, and Tristen thought that quite possibly infuriated Benedick. Also, for now, Tristen made allowances, remembering his wife Aefre and how well he himself had dealt with that; Benedick was deep in the throes of grieving his lost love. Tristen harbored no illusions that the fact that Benedick and Caitlin were separated had meant that either of them cared less for the other.
In any case, his priority call was met with a skeptical eyebrow and a reserved expression until he began to talk. “The Captain has a task for us, O Brother. One perhaps best carried out by you, in Engine, although you will want support. And also to inform Jordan, before you act.”
It was typical of Benedick that he neither asked foolish questions nor assumed answers were implied in what went unsaid. “Support?”
“It’s likely that Caitlin’s killer was a martial revenant of Ariane Conn. We believe she planted the daemon-seed for her resurrection in Oliver’s body when she toured Rule. After her bioweapon had taken its toll of the servants and family.”
Benedick’s jaw firmed. It was the only outward symptom of distress—or determination—that Tristen was likely to get. “Evidence?”
“The Captain—” Important, that, for if Tristen had put them on equal terms when he called Benedick brother, now he reestablished the chain of authority. “She went through Ariane’s memories.”
Again, Benedick showed that firming of the jaw that could not exactly be termed a flinch. “I would have expected her to wipe something like that at the hippocampus. Or at the very least, have it on a dead-man’s switch so that, when Perceval ate her, she wouldn’t get access to Ariane’s failsafe plan. But then, Ariane always was an overwhelming egotist.”
“She did wipe it.” Tristen enjoyed watching the surprised mothflutter of a smile at the corners of Benedick’s mouth, gone as quickly as a flicker. No matter what else came between, paternal pride was beautiful. “Perceval found the repeated segment.”
“So it’s conjecture that the daemon-seed went into Oliver.”
“Conjecture supported by circumstantial evidence. A newly installed personality—Jsutien—would grow around the daemon-seed and disguise it.”
“And Jsutien was the person present when Arianrhod escaped,” Benedick finished.
“Also, Nova cannot confirm his whereabouts for the duration of the attack on Engine.”
Benedick was also too disciplined to curse. And although Tristen knew he had a startling, mercurial sense of humor, it was not on display now. “You’re assuming he’s not aware of the daemon he carries.”
“If you were Ariane, would you place that much trust in a mule?”
Benedick wrapped a long hand around the squareness of his jaw. “I’ll bring him into custody. Cynric can take his head apart and see what’s hiding in there. She’s more likely to put something functional back together when she’s done rooting around than anyone else would be.”
Tristen laced his fingers together, squeezing for comfort and control. “How far are you willing to trust Cynric?”
Benedick’s smile was wider, this time, and ever so much less genuine. “I could throw her pretty far, if I had to.”
Danilaw and Amanda didn’t exactly have the run of the ship, but they didn’t exactly not have it, either. Samael returned when they had had a few moments to assemble their facades and assess their situation. He showed them to rooms where they could cleanse, take exercise, and refresh themselves as it became necessary. If anything could have convinced Danilaw of the sincerity and the divinity of the patchwork Angel, clean clothes and a chance to bathe and sleep were high on the list.
Mallory, too, came by to check on them and deliver supplies. The pajamas were soft,