Pathways - Jeri Taylor [178]
“Well, come in, come in. I’ve been looking forward to this.” He gestured toward his office and Kes preceded him inside. It was a spacious room, pale and unadorned, with windows that looked down onto the floor of the Assembly. Kes could see throngs of Ocampa below them, standing around, staring at the entertainment screens, standing in the food lines. She shivered slightly.
“Are you cold? I can warm up the room if you like.”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
Toscat smiled and gestured to a large black sofa. Kes sat on it, sinking into soft cushions and feeling quite small in their vast depths. Toscat sat opposite her, in a large chair with a high back and rolled arms. It was quite imposing, and Kes was feeling smaller all the while.
“Well, then,” Toscat said, beaming, “to what do I owe this visit from such a pretty little girl?”
Kes’s cheeks burned. He was treating her like an infant, like a worthless tot good for nothing more than minding her manners and looking pretty. He was speaking telepathically even though she continued to speak aloud. It was all so irritating. She took a breath to calm herself, then looked directly into Toscat’s eyes. “I want to know if there are any written records from our ancestors.”
The look on the Elder’s face was worth the indignities she had suffered. It was at once perplexed, surprised, and wary—a panoply of emotions that rolled around his plump face like the light patterns on the entertainment screens. Kes felt a tiny twinge of triumph.
“Written records . . . ?” extemporized the older man.
“Yes. I can’t believe there aren’t writings of some kind. We had an extraordinary past, and it doesn’t stand to reason no one would have recorded it.”
She held his look firmly, unwilling to look away or do anything that might make her appear weak in his eyes. Finally it was he who broke contact, who rose and strolled to the window that overlooked the Assembly floor. “Why are you asking about this?” he asked, still not speaking aloud.
“I’m curious. I think we should know as much as possible about our true origins. How can we know what we’re meant to be if we don’t know what we came from?”
Toscat turned slowly and stared at her, as though he were inspecting an alien insect, something quaintly repulsive. He sighed, and the sigh rippled through her mind like wind on water. “Kes, Kes, Kes . . . you’re much too young to be troubling your mind with thoughts like these.” He smiled avuncularly. “You’re going to etch worry lines on that beautiful forehead if you try to think so deeply. Why not get your food rations and spend some time in front of the entertainment screens? That should settle those restless thoughts.”
She felt anger stirring in her again, and this time she wasn’t so quick to suppress it. She rose to her feet, and her voice, when she spoke, had taken on a certain edge.
“I don’t want to settle them down. I want to keep them churning. I have a lot of questions, and no one seems to have answers, so I came to you because you’re an Elder and you should be showing us guidance but you won’t help me, either. I’m quite serious, Toscat—I want to know if there are any written records and where they are and why no one knows about them and most of all, I want to read them.”
He blinked in what seemed to be stupefaction, and Kes realized he was completely unaccustomed to being addressed like that. Probably it was the first time anyone had challenged him, much less a child barely through her cycle. She kept her eyes fixed on him.
His voice in her head had hints of steel to it. “Be careful, young lady—I won’t be threatened. You mind yourself or I’ll take you back to your parents and tell them what a rude girl you’ve been.”
With a great struggle, Kes calmed herself. She wanted answers and this man might be able to provide them. It wouldn’t do to alienate him. She lowered her eyelids in a docile gesture and spoke to him with her mind, like a good girl would. “I’m sorry, Toscat. I meant no disrespect. I’m just burning with questions and I knew someone as wise as you would have answers. You’re