Ingray composed a brief message with a request for immediate response and sent it off to Zat, but there was no reply, and the figure on the hilltop didn’t move. “I wonder if she’s fallen asleep.”
“Not likely,” said Hevom. “Uto’s automated routines are very limited. It’s certainly been under control all the times I’ve seen it.”
“Have you seen it recently?” asked Garal.
“Not for a half hour or so,” Hevom replied. “It’s really rather vexing. I know the servants packed us some lunch, but I can’t possibly eat it just yet.”
Before or without Zat, Ingray supposed that meant. And he couldn’t just tell Zat what he wanted. “Garal and I can take the lunch out,” suggested Ingray. “You could say it would have been rude not to join us.”
“I’m afraid I still wouldn’t be able to eat,” said Hevom, with an aggrieved sigh.
“Well, we won’t put you in that position, then,” said Ingray, though she really did want some lunch, now Hevom had mentioned it. She reminded herself that it wasn’t Hevom’s fault that he was Omkem, and a younger cousin of Zat’s affines, whatever that might mean.
Of course, she wasn’t under the restrictions Hevom apparently was. She could go say something to Zat, maybe even suggest lunch. Ingray looked up at the top of the hill, where Zat was sitting in the same place she’d been for the last couple of hours. Ingray really should go up the hill and say something to her.
“Oh, look,” said Garal. “Your brother has decided to favor us with his presence.”
Ingray, Garal, and Hevom all turned to look as Danach came toward them on the trail, walking slowly. “You look tired,” said Ingray sweetly as he reached them. “Did you not get enough sleep?”
“Fuck you,” Danach replied, with an almost sincere-looking smile. In Bantia, presumably so Hevom could not understand.
“You were sleeping so peacefully when we left,” said Garal, in Yiir, “and we knew you’d had a late night. We didn’t want to wake you.”
Danach looked at Ingray and then at Garal. “Entirely out of kindness, I’m sure.” In Yiir, now. “Did you find what you were looking for?” The barest hint of menace in his voice.
Ingray was quite sure Garal heard it, too, but Hevom seemed oblivious. “My goodness, no, excellency! It will take much longer than an afternoon to find what we’re looking for.” His tone was just slightly exasperated.
“We’ve narrowed it down,” Ingray said, in Bantia. And then, in Yiir, “I was about to go up the hill and ask Excellency Zat if she’d like some lunch.”
Danach scoffed. “You left the lunches in the groundcar. I’m not walking all the way back there.” He dropped down to sit in the grass and crossed his legs. Ingray knew he worked out regularly—this would be a result of Danach’s late night, and his anger at Ingray and Garal. Danach continued. “Did it not occur to you to message Excellency Zat instead of walking up the hill? Or to just have lunch without her?”
“She’s not replying to messages.” Ingray did her best to keep her irritation with her brother out of her voice. “And it would be rude to start lunch without her.” Which Danach knew, of course. She looked at Garal, who was as expressionless as usual, and at Hevom, who frowned. “I’ll go up the hill and wake her,” Ingray said.
Hevom’s frown cleared. “Thank you, excellency.”
From the top of the hill, even with the small copse of rovingtrees, Ingray could see the whole area of the parkland they’d been walking in over the past couple of hours, the grass, the walking trail, Danach sitting beside it, Garal apparently talking to him. Hevom gazed toward the bright silver ribbon of the river curving and foaming around the swath of colored glass blocks and slabs. Zat hadn’t stirred as Ingray approached, so she was certainly asleep, still leaning against the tree. From where Ingray stood, she could see the Omkem woman’s right shoulder and arm, her hand resting flat down on the ground beside her, her legs stretched out in front of her. “Excellency,” Ingray called. “Excellency Zat.” No response. She walked around the tree to face Zat.
For a moment, she could not make sense of what she saw: Zat, eyes closed, her head pushed hard up against the slim trunk of the rovingtree. Something dark crusted one corner of her mouth, and it took Ingray another moment to admit to herself that it was probably blood. Like the wide, dark stain on the front of Zat’s tunic was probably blood.
Zat’s chest didn’t seem to be moving under that stain, no rise and fall of breath, and Ingray couldn’t think what it was she ought to do next, even if it was true, but it couldn’t be true, she must be mistaken. “Excellency Zat,” Ingray said again. Made herself step closer. A flat, empty seedpod dropped from the rovingtree, brushed Zat’s cheek, landed on that dark stain on her tunic.
Suddenly terrified and sick to her stomach, Ingray made herself take a deep breath and swallow. Carefully, hoping the nausea wouldn’t overcome her. She turned to look down the hill again, where Garal and Danach waited, where Hevom still stared at the river.
She needed to tell them what had happened. And then what? Then she needed to send a message to Planetary Safety. They would take care of it after that, they would know what to do. But she found she couldn’t bring herself to think out any sort of message, so instead she walked back down the hill. Maybe she would be able to say it by the time she reached the bottom, maybe she would be able to tell everyone that Zat, her mother’s guest, hadn’t moved for hours, or replied to messages, because she was dead.
7
The parkland’s Safety office was mostly a visitor center—restrooms, some snacks for sale—bean crackers, three flavors of roasted cicadas, milk sweets—and a fabricator that would make various sorts of customizable vestiges. A counter where a Safety officer sat, with a few rooms behind that. Offices, Ingray had always assumed, though it turned out that there was also a small holding area, in case someone had to be detained.