Jelaza Kazone
Surebleak
In which Val Con sees his brother off.
I had wondered what became of Quick Passage. Now I wonder if the hidden control centre it’s become is the same one Miri used to oversee the Captain’s Emergency.
I like how Miri says “Now all we do is wait” as if that’s going to be easy for them.
Day 283
Standard Year 1392
Liad
Department of Interior Command Headquarters
In which the economy demands a Korval.
Re-reading in order, we’ve already had the truth behind Pat Rin being “dismissed to a wastrel life of spoiled self-indulgence”. Even without that context, though, I’m pretty sure I could already tell the first time I read this that spoiled and self-indulgent wasn’t really what Pat Rin was like, and that he was unlikely to be as receptive to the Department’s intention as they might have hoped.
Erob’s Hold
Practice Grounds
In which Val Con and Nelirikk speak of Jela.
The news that the entire 14th Conquest Corps is acting out of turn suggests the possibility that the Yxtrang we’ve encountered so far, who value prestige over effective action, are atypical, and most Yxtrang are more sensible. On the other hand, there’s still the decision High Command made about Nelirikk, and if Yxtrang High Command doesn’t behave typically of Yxtrang, who does? Perhaps these Yxtrang are atypical not in the sense that they behave unlike Yxtrang, but only in taking typical Yxtrang qualities to an unusual extreme.
The bit about what “the Troop did not know — or did not tell” is interesting, in light of the prequels. The Troop does know how Jela died, or at least did at the time, since Cantra told them; indeed, Jela’s Troop was named in his honour only after he died. Perhaps the story was lost to memory because it contained too many things that the Yxtrang would not wish to remember: Cantra herself, for one.
In which Daav and Aelliana each get something to eat and gain some measure of comfort.
Daav’s little self-analysis session is interesting. It speaks well of him that he is able to be honest with himself about his failings and potential failings and about what may be necessary to address them.
It places him in contrast to Ran Eld Caylon, who is driven by jealousy of his power and position within the clan. Daav, as this scene shows, is also strongly beset by jealousy, but he doesn’t let it poison his relationships or steer him into dishonor.
That scene is also interesting in the light of what “Dragon Tide” says about how, back in the day, the Tree’s ancestors would each have a special branch where the dragons would sleep to commune with the tree. I wonder how much influence Tree had on Daav and Er Thom’s choice of location for their sanctuary platform?
In which several people have urgent business at the Port this morning.
And Er Thom finds himself capable of setting out, without hesitation, on a course of action that would have been literally unthinkable a twelveday ago.
I notice that, just as when Er Thom took Shan, on the day Anne came home and found them gone, the authors are deliberately casting shadow on just what Er Thom intends to when he finds Anne — a last play of the shadow-Er Thom constructed on the model of Shan el’Thrassin. I think I understand why, but I wonder if there was ever a reader who knew Er Thom so poorly by this point as to be taken in by the deception.
In which the best service Er Thom might do Syntebra el’Kamin would be to arrange matters so they need never meet again.
We’re getting toward the climax of the story now, which means the pace is picking up, which means the chapters are getting shorter, which means that if one is reading a chapter per day the suspense is being agonizingly dragged out. Argh.
I don’t fault the authors for it, since it’s not in the least implausible, but it is remarkably convenient that Syntebra el’Kamin is so thoroughly unsuited to be part of Korval, thus leaving no shadow on our hope for Er Thom to get together with Anne.
I raised my eyebrows when Syntebra thought of Er Thom as “old”, and went to check the timeline. Er Thom is only 35 years old here, but Syntebra is only 20, so he’s nearly twice her age; she was born around the time of “Pilot of Korval”, when Er Thom was already a qualified pilot and old enough to be travelling on the Passage and getting himself into trouble in an adult’s melant’i.
Solcintra
Near Orbit
In which a new venture calls for new names.
The Service Families have declared themselves the new High Houses of Solcintra. That didn’t take long.
Partly in response, Cantra and Tor An decide to strengthen their association, from perhaps-temporary co-pilots to permanent clanmates. (As I recall, Shan’s recounting of the Clan’s history in one of the later novels implies that they didn’t take that step until after landfall, but it does make sense for them to take the step now, for all the reasons Tor An mentions – and it has always been said that the contract was with Clan Korval, so that’s all right. In situations like this, Lois McMaster Bujold is wont to say that “the Management reserves the right to have a better idea later.”)
And on reflection, while it makes first-glance sense for the idea of forming a Clan to have presented itself later, at the point where the voyage was over and Cantra and Tor An needed to decide how they were going to carry on into the future, I’m not sure the Cantra we’ve come to know in this duology would have made this choice then. Forming Clan with her co-pilot means hitching her destiny to someone else’s in a way she’s never done, and I get the feeling that on some level she’s only letting herself do it now because it’s not going to matter if they all die soon anyway. If they’d waited to decide until they knew for sure they had the rest of their lives ahead of them, I don’t know that she might not have got cold feet.
Solcintra
In which Rool Tiazan comes visiting.
Rool Tiazan warns Cantra that her actions on Vanehald have attracted the Enemy’s attention, and that the fact that Spiral Dance obeyed her then doesn’t mean it’s free of the Enemy’s influence, only that the Enemy has not chosen to exert that influence – yet.
Cantra expresses some doubt to herself and to Rool Tiazan that humanity is either saveable or, perhaps, worth saving, but I think it says something that when his lady asks her if she wants to keep Jela’s child, she doesn’t hesitate to say yes.
(I also appreciate that the pregnancy needs a bit of dramliz-healer help to be confident of a good outcome. It underlines how much work the tree had to do to get it going at all.)
Tor An’s Aunt Jinsu, whose advice about being well-rested he starts to offer, has been mentioned before: she’s the aunt who used to travel with Scholar tay’Palin in her younger days.
Liad dea’Syl is an observant man, and I wonder how much he has observed about Rool Tiazan. (Apart from the fact that Lucky likes him, which would have been pretty hard to miss.)
Long Savannahs of the Blue
In which Cantra comes to a decision, and Rool Tiazan’s lady comes to an arrangement.
I get the feeling that the tree is worried about Cantra, and trying to help her, but most of what it knows about getting around Cantra comes from watching Jela doing it, and even aside from the fact that what works for Jela won’t necessarily work for anyone else, imitating Jela is not the most helpful thing to be doing right now.
The tree can, it seems, speak words on occasion, within limits. The words it gives to Cantra in this chapter are all memories of words, its answer to her question a reshuffling of the question itself. I wonder whose memories; the ones I recognise are from occasions when both Cantra and the tree have been present. The images it usually used to communicate with Jela were obviously drawn from its own store of memories, though, and I don’t offhand recall it ever talking to him with his. Perhaps it hasn’t spoken in words before because it doesn’t have very many words to draw on, and wasn’t used to using the ones it had; Jela was the first verbal person it had ever met, and he didn’t talk much, at that.
Meanwhile, Rool Tiazan and his lady (whose current state of existence does remind one of Aelliana’s, later) are making a house call. We see that not all the free dramliz are as altruistic, or as balanced in themselves, as Rool Tiazan and his lady, or Lute and Moonhawk. Which is saddening, but not really surprising, given the way the dramliz are brought up.
It’s indicated that Simbu’s dominant is only one of a group of dramliz plotting to supplant the Iloheen, which – on the one hand, obviously that’s not something it would be remotely reasonable to contemplate attempting on one’s own, but on the other hand, given the kind of person you’d have to be to want to supplant the Iloheen, I suspect that if they actually did succeed they’d be backstabbing each other in less time than it takes to say “Lords of Unmaking”.
Rool Tiazan is the kind of being you find in fairy stories about people who come to grief by not being precise about wording, and I think it’s significant that what he and his lady have agreed to is to lend one third of his strength as measured by the borrower – particularly since he has a track record of making his strength appear less than it is. (See also: not “it cost him an effort”, but “he knew she would see that it cost him an effort”.) Not that I blame him, since honest-and-upfront is clearly the wrong approach to take with an ally like this.
Vanehald
In which the world-shield is right where they left it.
It occurs to me that it might turn out to be an advantage that Commander Gorriti ran away before the trouble started. If he’d still been in charge, I suspect he’d have been more of a hindrance than a help.
And this would appear to be, more or less, the end of the subplot about the world-shield – which I’d completely forgotten before I began this re-read, even though it’s Jela’s motivation all the way through. I think it failed to sink in the first time I read these books because, reading them as a prequel, I already knew that the world-shield wasn’t going to be the thing that mattered in the end.