Eye of the Ocean Book 3 Ji'jin Station

Eye of the Ocean – Book 3: Ji’Jin Station
“I made the point,” Ulanda said, interrupting her. “Weren't you watching from
the Net?”
He shook his head. A pairing, he wondered? And had it confirmed in the game
synopsis that he pulled. Black was still ahead with a dozen plays completed and
no limit yet set on the duration of the game.
He made a point of encouraging a blow-by-blow description of the play,
prompting either Alicia or Ulanda whenever other conversation ebbed. Otherwise,
the meeting was exactly the tiresome rehashing of events that he had expected,
with the E'kalt Hunter taking bows at each point where additional thanks could be
prompted. Eunni left for a short time, then returned with the start of the dinner
service.
Ge'on'ni and Heana arrived just before the first course, neither of them looking
the worse for wear. Mirwin following more stiffly, his hair in tight ringlets from the
bath. His toilette had been hurried; he wasn't wearing any of the makeup he
preferred on formal occasions. He served Ulanda, Niv stayed with Eunni.
With the sunset, the sky had clouded. White masses were edged with mother
of pearl, slowly darkening to gray. By the end of the meal, a light rain was falling.
Rit stood in the moist air coming in the open door, a tea bowl in his hand,
watching and listening. On either side of the path, two honor guard were
motionless at attention, standing in the rain. One of them was Op'ki'na, still
wearing the red scarf, soaked now and appearing more as a texture against the
dark of his chitin than a color. Black had won but the ti'Linn had scored a play.
He had left Rilla apparently content to listen to music and drink wine and with
Ulanda maintaining what small talk seemed necessary. Alicia, Mirwin and the
ti'Linn Priest were verbally replaying the break-ball game, point by point. Kori had
disappeared somewhere, perhaps following Ge'on'ni and Heana. He didn't know
where they were, but their departure had been tracked by security. Tallomal, he
thought from the bit of the Net he caught off Alicia.
He took a sip of his tea, quietly savoring the taste. Like Alicia had earlier, he
felt sated by effort, but unlike her, he didn't know from what. And not as
comfortable with the feeling, either, or aroused as she had been. That part had
faded and he had trouble remembering the urgency he had felt in the bathhouse
or even what lay underneath the simpler play from the walk with Eunni.
Coming from across the common, the water drum in the bathhouse sounded
and behind him, third layer into the suite, a flute and ci-ci drum were being
played in concert. Garm had followed him. “The light's changed since we've come,
hasn't it.” Changed like your suite has changed, he almost said. Did the Simic
realize how much he had impressed onto his living space? Had any of it past the
obvious decorating been deliberate?
“I haven’t noticed a change,” Garm said coldly.
Laurel Hickey www.2morrow.bc.ca