Binary by Jay Caselberg (korean ebook reader txt) 📕

it was Yl Aris who had reported his discussion with Din Baltir. Tarlain hadn't even noticed the man's presence. He really should have known better than to speak openly at a public gathering, but the damage was done now and there was certainly no taking it back.

Wherever he wound up, he knew he could maintain his contact with Karnav Din Baltir. The Guildmaster was sympathetic to many of the ideas for change that Tarlain had discussed with him long into the night. Welfare was the ideal place to promote that change, but it was going to be much harder now with Roge having been ceded the reins of power. It only remained to work out how much of that power was really his. His elder brother had always cared for little but himself. As eldest son, as successor, he had been molded to expect nothing less than what he, Roge Men Darnak, wanted, whether it was the hunting trips, or the large rowdy parties he was so fond of. Let alone the affairs of the Principate.

Tarlain grimaced. In the past, his father at least would listen to reason. His years of controlling the Guilds, of experiencing what a wrong choice could mean, had made him more open -- or had done until recently. Roge, on the other hand, had none of the same sense born of experience; he was headstrong and capricious, and the worst thing was, his father would not hear a word against him.

A chime at his door brought Tarlain back to the moment. He glanced in a nearby mirror making sure his features betrayed nothing of the thoughts and emotions working inside his head. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath to further compose himself before speaking.

"Enter," he said wondering who might have taken the trouble to follow him to his chambers. If it was that Yl Aris�

His sister slid in the door and closed it behind her. "Tarlain, what happened? I just heard."

He waved a hand. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"But Yosset said that father had just -- "

"What? Thrown me out? Beaten me with a stick? Damned me for all time? What?" Tarlain spat the words. He had no love for Karin's husband, and that the news had come to her via his lips made matters no better.

Karin looked at him with a frown. "There's no real need for that, Tarlain. What actually happened? I came here because I wanted to hear it from you."

He returned her look warily. As the middle child, Karin had always played both sides of their relationships to her advantage. She always seemed to know which one of the other two children to side with. Reluctantly deciding that he could trust her for now, he sat with a sigh and told her what had happened.

"But that's ridiculous," she said, frowning again. "Is it true? Did you really say those things? And who told him anyway?"

"Not that it matters, but most likely it was Yl Aris. You can't say anything when he's in the same room without it getting back to Father. You know that. And as to whether I said them...it was just talk, wasn't it?" He shrugged. "As for acting against Roge, well that's just stupid, isn't it? As if I'd even consider it."

"Oh, Tarlain. Can't you see what you've done?"

"No. What have I done other than simply have a conversation with someone? You tell me, Karin."

"Now. Right now," she said, exasperation in her tone. "Together, you, me and Roge, we could have had everything we wanted. You know what happens in Storm Season. With everything falling apart, we could have picked up the pieces and made things work how we wanted them to. We could put everything back together to work for us. For us, Tarlain. Don't you see what that means? We've been waiting too long for this, and working together...each one of us in the major Guilds..." She shook her head. "You've just made everything so much harder. You have to talk to him. You have to talk to Father and make it right again. Roge needs us. We need each other."

Tarlain looked up at her, barely able to conceal the slight narrowing of his eyes that would betray how he felt. Karin was only worried about her own position within the Principate. He should have expected little else. Fine. Let her believe he was willing to go along with whatever she suggested. He'd pretended to be easily led by her more than once in the past. And of course, she'd said absolutely nothing about how their father had encouraged them, helped to position them. It was just like Karin not to see or acknowledge his gentle guidance.

He fought to keep his voice even. "But you've seen how he is lately. What am I supposed to say? He virtually threw me out. It's not that easy."

She crossed and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You've always had a special place in his affection. I'm sure you can get past this. We really need you to talk to him, Tarlain. Will you do that for me?" She gave his shoulder a slight squeeze.

Tarlain slipped from beneath her touch and stood, crossing the room to look out the window. "I don't know. It's really not that easy."

"Of course it is," she said, walking over to stand behind him. "With news of the announcement starting to spread, he won't be going very far. He'll be locked away somewhere, avoiding the fuss. Go and see him in his chambers. Talk to him. Try and get him alone. He'll talk to you."

"I'm not sure that he will." Tarlain looked out over the squat block buildings stretching down the hill from the Principal's residence. The even structures broken into tidy lines stepped down the slope, the pattern only broken by the larger, blockier shape of the nearby Church of the Prophet. Perhaps he should do what Karin suggested after all. It couldn't hurt. They had both spoken in anger. Everyone had been tense leading up to the announcement, and afterward the hangover of that tension had remained, coloring the way they all reacted. Now that the gathering was over, that everything had calmed down a little, his father might actually be more willing to listen.

Karin still stood behind him, waiting for a response. "I'll see what I can do," he said without turning around. She patted him on the shoulder and gave a brief sound of approval. She hovered there behind him for a moment more, then, when it was clear he wasn't going to say anything else, said goodbye and slipped from the room. He stood staring out of the window, considering for several minutes after she had left.

Tarlain crossed the vast paved courtyard, hurrying toward the steps. Most of the groundcars had long since departed, carrying their passengers, and their messages back to the various Guilds. The square was unusually still. One or two tourists from far-off towns wandered past, gawping at the buildings, but most leisure travel had already been curtailed. Storm Season was no time to be far from home. The Principal's announcement had effectively cleared the center of Yarik, sweeping away everything that normally marked the flurry of preparation that came as precursor to the Minor Twin's true ascendance. With the lesser sun's deep orange light painting everything with a somber russet wash, the square felt eerie, like some painting rather than the center of a thriving city. Tarlain was filled with the sense of its unreality.

He headed straight for the Principal's chambers, nearly colliding with a functionary as he turned a corner into the long corridor. The man barely acknowledged Tarlain's apology and hurried off about his business. That was a good sign. Apparently, there had been no general announcement about his status yet. Perhaps Karin was right and there really was time. He took a deep breath, flung the large door wide and stepped into his father's offices.

Sitting behind the broad desk was the person he least expected to see, especially not engaged in peering at his father's screen. Witness Kovaar looked up at the unexpected entry, Tarlain's own surprise reflected on his gaunt features.

"Tarlain, what are you doing here?" He quickly shut down the display, trying to make the action as unobtrusive as possible, and then folded his hands in front of him. "Can I help you?"

"Where's Father?"

"He's in consultation with Roge. They've asked not to be disturbed," said the priest.

"Well, where are they? I need to talk to him."

"The Principal has made his wishes quite plain. If you would like me to relay a message to him..."

"No. I don't want you to relay a message to him. I want to see him. Now where is he?"

Kovaar stared at him impassively across the table, his features unreadable.

"Fine. If you won't tell me..." Tarlain crossed the room heading for his father's private library and threw open the door. The room was dark. Tarlain strode across to the other side heading for the door where the sleeping quarters lay, noting with annoyance the slightest hint of a smirk on the priest's face. His father's private chambers were empty too.

"Dammit, Priest. Where have they gone?" He walked quickly back to the desk.

Kovaar slowly shook his head. "Principal Men Darnak made his intentions quite clear. They are currently involved in the business of the Principate. As your father told you, you have no further interest in those matters."

Tarlain could barely believe what he was hearing. With difficulty, he restrained his urge to step around the edge of the broad table and grab a fistful of Witness Kovaar's robes. By what right...? He fought for calm. Taking it out on the priest wasn't going to achieve anything.

"Would you please convey a message to my father? I need to speak to him. I will wait here in his chambers until he's ready to see me and his business with Roge is done." Kovaar sat where he was, waiting. "Now!"

Taking his time, Kovaar got to his feet. He stared blankly at Tarlain for a moment or two, and then walked unhurriedly out the door, closing it quietly behind him. It was a full half hour before he returned and by then, Tarlain had barely managed to regain some of his composure.

"I gave him the message as you asked," said Witness Kovaar.

"And?"

Kovaar held his hands outstretched with a shrug, and then proceeded to take up his place behind the desk. He said nothing further.

Tarlain nodded and settled back in the chair to wait. He used the time to look at the man who had become his father's constant shadow over the past few Seasons. The Church of the Prophet was an essential part of all of their daily lives, but with Leannis Men Darnak, it had always been more form rather than substance, and so it was with many of the more powerful Guildsmen. But now, what of the priest? What was it that drew a man to a life such as that? Surely, it had to be more than mere religious conviction, particularly with a man like Kovaar. There was something about him that hinted at things other than religious belief, things that Tarlain wasn't sure he liked. The priest returned Tarlain's gaze unflinchingly. The aesthetic look, the fine-boned hands and face, they all gave the impression of someone barely of the world, let alone in touch with it. The wait grew longer and longer and the silence stretched between them.

Finally, when Tarlain had almost given up hope, the door opened behind him. He sat where he was, not trusting himself yet to meet his father's face.

"So, Priest, what is this about Tarlain?" His father's voice.

Witness Kovaar gestured to