Pathways - Jeri Taylor [177]
An unaccustomed feeling began to stir in her, a sensation she’d never felt. It was strangely pleasant, like a piece of odd music that haunts the mind. She felt Daggin’s eyes on her, peering through the darkness, and she looked up at him. “I won’t promise not to come here again, but I’ll tell you before I do.”
He nodded, and they held a look for a moment; then Kes turned and started back down the passageway.
Kes’s first run-in with the Elder known as Toscat came shortly before she cut off her hair. Whether one precipitated the other was a matter of concern to her parents, but not, frankly, to Kes.
It was unusual for someone to request an appointment with an Elder before they were three or four, and there were lifted eyebrows when Kes spoke to his aide, Marlath, about an interview. Bemused by the thought of a child seeking audience with an Elder, Marlath arranged the meeting with a manner that Kes found condescending.
But she didn’t say anything. She was trying to learn to control her tongue, realizing as she grew older that it often created difficulties for her. She had a goal in mind now, and was determined not to sabotage her own efforts.
The afternoon she met with Toscat, she dressed carefully, choosing a sober, conservative outfit—something she thought an Elder would approve of. It was so neutral in color and style that it called no attention to itself. Kes thought it was boring, but knew she wasn’t dressing to please herself. She vowed that when her growth cycle was complete, she would never adopt the bland dress style of the Ocampan women. She’d find some way to be different.
She brushed her long golden hair thoroughly, until it shone. She tied it back in a modest style and assessed herself. She looked colorless and dreary, probably just right for a meeting with Toscat. But as she gazed at herself in the glass, the thought came to her that she was very nearly grown. She looked almost as mature as she would for the next seven or eight years, at which point she would enter the morilogium, or final phase of existence. Then, aging would be rapid, leading within months to the end of life.
All the Elders had offices in the Assembly building, and Kes waited in the stark white anteroom while Toscat, in his office, finished a conversation with another Elder. She wondered what they talked about, how they occupied their days. There really was nothing for them to do: the Caretaker provided for everything, and most of Ocampan society had become serene and complacent, so there were never any problems. Yet the Elders always seemed to think they were very important.
She looked up to see Marlath eyeing her. He was probably only a year older than she, but acted as though he were an Elder himself. She found him arrogant.
“Tell me, Kes,” he intoned telepathically, “just what do you want to discuss with Toscat?”
“I have some questions for him about our past,” she answered frankly, out loud, then frowned with irritation as she saw him erupt into a smug grin.
“I see. And what could a little girl who’s barely finished her growth cycle possibly want to know about our past?”
“A great deal. Everything. No one seems to know the details and I thought if anyone did, it would be an Elder. So here I am.” Marlath’s smile only grew larger, and Kes felt anger beginning to stir in her. That wouldn’t do. She couldn’t allow this petty aide to annoy her; she had to keep herself composed for Toscat. So she forced herself to smile back at him, her mouth feeling like a frozen slit on her face.
Fortunately at this point the doors to Toscat’s office opened and he strolled out, arm around another of the Elders, chortling at some shared witticism. The men said their telepathic farewells and then Toscat turned to Kes. His face was pudgy, the skin of his cheeks stretched taut below eyes that were small and vacuous.
“Well, Kes, there you are—and looking more grown-up by the minute. You must be nearly at the end of your cycle.”
“I’m already finished.” She insisted on speaking out loud, even if