Wave Without a Shore by C. J. Cherryh

Author:C. J. Cherryh [Cherryh, C. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: Daw Books
Published: 1980-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

XX

Student: How does a person fit death into his reality,

sir?

Master Law: Whose?

Student: How do you fit your own death into yours, sir?

Master Law: One has nothing to do with another.

Student: You deny the reality of death?

Master Law: (After reflection.) With all my reality.

It was a pleasant day, Waden in high spirits and prone to argue. “I find myself too tired for fine discussion,” Herrin confessed.

“You’ve grown thin,” Waden said. They sat at a table in Waden’s rooms in the Residency, with exquisite tableware, Waden’s ordinary set … “Eat something, Herrin; you’ll waste away.”

“By my standards I have.” Herrin leaned back, drinking tea and comfortable with a full belly. “A supper last night, a lunch today … gluttony. I plan to increase my tolerance.”

“You have to,” said Keye, third in their threesome at table. “I know your habits, Herrin, and they’re abominable.”

He grinned pleasantly and briefly. “I fear the Residency is responsible. I find myself reluctant to bestir the whole array of kitchens and servants. It’s easier in the University to go downstairs and trouble cook for sandwiches. I’ll be leaving for awhile.”

Waden shrugged. “Wherever you’re comfortable.”

“You’ll have new projects,” said Keye.

He shrugged.

“What do you propose?” Waden asked.

He smiled. “I’ll know when I find it.”

“Ah, then you don’t know.”

“I suspect that I know but that it hasn’t surfaced. Allow me my methods.”

“You … have no interest in exterior events?”

“What, yours?”

“Exterior events.”

“Are there any?”

“Rhetorical question?”

“No. Inform me. What’s happening with your Outsiders? Anything of interest?”

Waden shrugged and toyed with the handle of his cup, lips pursed. He looked up suddenly. “The station module is due to arrive. Past that point it begins to grow, a station, widening of the port … .”

“Irrevocably.”

“My art, Herrin. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Herrin smiled tautly.

“Ah,” said Waden Jenks. “I see the thought passing. You say nothing; ergo you have very much to say. It’s only on trivialities that you debate motivation. You think—using that creation out in the Square, to have some great part in me.”

“I do. I’m very self-interested.”

Waden smiled. “I’ll never carry your argument for you. Only be sure I know what it is, even unspoken.”

“I’d expect nothing less. So why should I bother? Mine’s a nonverbal art form.”

“Beware him,” Keye said, chin on hand and smiling over her empty plate.

“Which of us?” asked Waden.

“Both of you.”

“And you?” asked Herrin.

“I’m always wary,” she said.

That had the feel of the old, the hungry days. Herrin laughed, set down his cup. “Surely,” he said, “Waden, your appointments are waiting; and I’m due a rest. I’m going to Walk off this excellent meal. And rest.”

He tried. He left the upper hall of the Residency and Walked downstairs, thought about going to his room and attempting a nap. He was tired enough to be very much tempted, but he also knew that the moment his head touched the pillow, he would begin thinking about what was in the Square or about something equally preoccupying, and he would lie awake miserable.

He walked outside, and onto the streets, and onto Main … alone this time.

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