To Escape From Gravity

Chapter Seventeen

The faint moonlight that spilled through the slivers of the curtains was enough to stir Laedem from his sleep. He was already irritated with the little amount of slumber he had managed.

Splayed across an unkempt bed, he stretched his limbs until he felt a soft pop of release. A grunt accented his movements as he ungracefully rolled off the bed and into a slow stand.

For his twenty-two years of life, Laedem had never been a deep sleeper. Although it most often proved to be irksome, the trait had its perks. His internal clock was uncanny, and allowed him to wake up on schedule without the use of noisy alarms. And tonight, he had again functioned with punctuality. The clock on the wall noted it was three in the morning and his visitor should be arriving at any moment.

Stumbling into the living area, he had a notion to tidy the place up. It was a thought that didn't linger long, both because he reminded himself to let go of the desire to impress his visitor, and because a knock at the door drew his attention. At the sound, Laedem hastily rushed to the entrance, carelessly knocking a stack of papers over that had been precariously hanging off an end table

His dead-of-night visitor rushed through the doorway with a fervor. The action did very little to startle him, a step backward at the aggressive entrance had routine familiarity to it.

"You're nothing if not punctual, Mother," Laedem said.

Without turning, his mother simply waved her hand in the air as if to brush the soft compliment away. "You don't get far in this world by making people wait." Speaking with all the refinement a Miasten resident could have, the lilting timber of her voice filled the room.

Laedem was never one to pass up an opportunity to speak to his value. "One of the many important skills I've learned from you."

"Don't placate me like that, Laedem. I'm well aware of how you've been trained, reminding me of it only becomes distasteful." The sharp words had ceased to land serious blows years ago.

"Sorry," he quickly responded. "I think you'd be happy with the report I got from my contact in Blaysner. There's a growing desire for Motaxen leaf, at least three counselors would be steady buyers. I have some ideas of how we can increase our supply." Directed in another way, his eagerness and ingenuity could have propelled the young man to prominence.

His mother clicked her tongue at the statement in another disproving manner. "We've been working on Motaxen for two months now, our systems are all in place." She didn't bother to catch the way her son's face dropped at the dismissal.

"Besides," she growled, raking a delicate finger along the dust that resided on his window ledge, "we have other concerns to address."

Taking swift steps to join his mother as she gazed out the glass, Laedem began a profuse defense of himself.

"I swear I've been careful with all my contacts, and I took care of that one fellow who started getting overly chatty with his neighbor. Nothing has been revealed, I've made sure of it." His words tumbled out without restraint, anxious to put at rest any rumblings that he was the weak link in the family business.

The older woman again raised a hand to hush him. "No mistake from you could crumble what your father and I have built. We've made sure of it," her tone was rich with an odd mixture of warning and maternal care.

Her shoulders suddenly dropped in an uncharacteristic way. "It's Normar, actually. I've received word that she's gotten herself into a situation."

"She doesn't engage with any of this, Mother. I've tried to convince her to join us, but you know how adamant she is." Laedem's brow furrowed as he spoke about his sister.