From jlarke@us.itd.umich.edu Date: Thu, 22 Sep 1994 00:45:19 -0400 From: Jason Larke To: thari@umich.edu Subject: Ahab's diary, session 55 That was *not* the most productive day I've ever had. I had thought I was on to something when I used the Pattern to trace Ariana's Trump with Vetch back to him, but when I tried to take us there I bounced off the wards around the Shadow. Which was better than teleporting out the window, but unlikely to replace jogging as my favored form of excercise. Much less sex. The next time I woke up, I tried to use the Pattern to at least look at that Shadow, but Auntie Dearest insisted on depositing my efforts outside her Shadow every time I crossed the border. I suppose she's been too used to getting her way to understand that that sort of thing only encourages me. I'm stubborn, if kinda slow in the head. Fiona talked to me about it later, though. Whatever she has tucked away in that Shadow, she's been holding it over Julian, and she won't be able to do that for much longer. After which, he will no doubt behave in a mature and adult matter. And give up hunting for knitting, too. I told her what I thought she should do, but we all know how much good that does. She goes her own way, much like I do, although her choices are often better-planned. Mine just pose fewer risks to my friends. Except the ones I shoot in the back by mistake. Correction: Fiona is not much like me at all. But I still love her more than most. Flora is a dear, but she's special to me in quite different ways. Llewella, on the other hand, seems to be chasing after Mom's trophy for child-rearing. She unleashed her son Bart on us without the slightest effort to train him. As a result he acted about like I did when I was his age, except that he lacks my trademark bleak outlook. He also falls short in one other crucial respect: I have to observe his idiocy objectively, whereas my own at least has the charm of being mine. Lyss, true to form, seems interested. Egads. The girl does need to grow up a bit, but I didn't really have a teenage sex fiend in mind. Still, even if I'm not her real Dad, she's a daddy's girl, and I'd be violating some rule somewhere if I decided any man was good enough for her. I've only found one woman good enough (or unlucky enough) to deserve me, and I looked real hard. In all of this, except for a brief conversation with Benedict, we made no progress toward a better offense for Amber. My Eldest Uncle is a very dangerous man, and I can't say he's wrong, but I don't see the logic. Our own defensive position is not strengthening appreciably, and we don't know what she might be doing. In my mind, until we've confirmed that we're making more progress than she is, each moment she spends unharried is a victory for her. Driscoll is found but amnesiac. The poor man, and his family are even worse off. It's not my profession, but I hope things work out for them all. Eris has been through enough, and with Random missing Vialle might like her adopted son back. Random... what do I think there? He's not the best king. He's careless, idiosyncratic, and singularily indifferent to anything that doesn't threaten him personally. On the other hand, having an undergrown card sharp for a King has a certain rustic charm. Putting him in the (tied for) most important position in reality is almost a slap in the face to all the other kings who think they're something special. On the other hand, Grandfather was something special, and I've never recovered from the feeling that the King should be someone a little bit more grand than Random. Someone like Benedict, perhaps, but he doesn't want the job. I guess I could live with a change in ruler. But I'd rather Random be alive. This time, what happened was nowhere near his fault. I want to find him. And I want to find someone to practice my little tricks on. I don't know if I can kill someone with the Pattern alone. But if I ever get a shot at Sand, it's going to be on my list of things to try.