Read Voices of Chaos Online

Authors: Ru Emerson,A. C. Crispin

Voices of Chaos (12 page)

So she knew better than to make assumptions based on a split-second look at a brand-new (to her, at least) life form.
Asha, though.
The initial Heeyoons had been able to pass on nothing but the name; Shiksara had seemed unusually vague

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about them. I'll
have to find out what Magdalena knows....

Alexis's eyes narrowed thoughtful y. Bhelan had been determinedly vague about Asha, also. But he was Khyriz's shuttle pilot, and therefore, probably, the charismatic Khyriz's ally.
Odd that the whole walk has been deserted
except for those two Asha. Is Khyriz up to something?

Maybe she ought to start rethinking things. Starting now.

The shuttle bays reserved for nobles and royals were clustered at one end of a long, closed-off corridor that paralleled the length of the station. Bhelan waited for the visual scanner to process his facial markings and for the door to slide open, then ushered his passengers through. The corridor itself was remarkably plain, especially for Arekkhi: No paintings, murals, or other artwork graced the curved walls, which were marked only by flat-screen scanners next to wide doors at intervals. No moving walkway here, either.

There was another pause at the doorway marked by the Emperor's personal
ducat,
while Bhelan was again scanned. Magdalena gazed at the gold-painted device and felt oddly goose-bumpy. It was one thing to have studied Arekkhi history via books, holo-vid, and talking to Khyriz and Shiksara.
The
ducat, the Arekkhi token of ruling, isn't a crown, of course; it's a forearm-guard, rounded at the elbow end, tapering to a point at the other so it covers
the back of the hand. It dates from at least a thousand years ago, a time
when small nations warred, and all fighters wore such guards. And the rulers
wore special ones, to identify themselves to their own troops--and to their
enemies.

The current Emperor, like his predecessors, wore a small, ornately jeweled version of the
ducat
for official appearances. The painted device marked official vehicles, buildings, and belongings.

The chamber beyond the door was vast and completely empty except for the silvery, sleek flitter-shuttle.
New technology, or at least a new look,
Alexis thought. "Wow," she murmured. Magdalena bit back a grin as the pilot gave the interrelator a startled glance, then an Arekkhi rumbling chuckle. Khyriz had picked up "Wow!" from one of Rob's

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old movies, and he seemed to have passed it on. Alexis turned to give her companion a grave wink as she added, "I was expecting one of the older models, you know: right out of
Flash Gordon."

"The color version, right?" Magdalena asked. They were both fond of the howlingly impossible space exploits of both the black-and-white serials and the slightly more recent version with a late-twentieth-century rock music sound track: The spaceships in both versions were incredibly elaborate--and those in the color version unnervingly similar to vid they'd seen of Arekkhi off-planet shuttles.

"Art Deco," Alexis agreed. She glanced at Bhelan, who looked baffled, switched back to Arekkhi, and gave him an apologetic gesture: "An old joke between us. The ship is beautiful."

"The new fashion," Bhelan replied seriously. "Most ships coming to station these days are still not 'wow,' " he added.

"I've seen vid of the others," Alexis assured him. "But why is the Emperor's shuttle so--well, so plain?"

Bhelan considered this as he drew a five-sided link from his sleeve and pressed the sides with his thumbs; a ramp descended from the nose of the shuttle. Magdalena went up first, entering the ship at midpoint, though she didn't reach floor level until she was nearly at the rear of the main cabin.

Once Bhelan--last of the three--reached floor level, he pressed the link again and the ramp came back up, sealing with a "snick" that made the translator's ears pop; the ramp became part of the cabin floor.

"Khyriz prefers the simpler fashion, which also suits our Emperor. These craft are faster and safer; this vehicle is also practical on-planet, though it is bulkier than a regular flitter." He indicated the cabin with a two-armed gesture. "Sit wherever you choose. You know how to adjust Arekkhi seating... ?"

"We've seen vid," Alexis replied. She began a slow turn in place to look over the possibilities as the pilot went forward; a narrow door slid sideways and closed behind him. There were ten of the half-egg-shaped seats placed apparently at random in the open cabin: Forward-tilted backside rests fit into 79

thickly padded shells that would cushion a body of any size. Though made for beings who were comfortable with a spine curved from tailbone to neck, they could also be adjusted to fit a more upright human. She turned again to look across at Magdalena, who was frowning at the larger of two vid-screens--the cabin was well lit, but there were no view-ports.

Alexis walked over to join her, but when Magdalena would have spoken, the interrelator touched her lips silently, then fingered the ear-cuff. Magdalena's eyes narrowed, then she nodded once. She and Alexis had already agreed to be sparing in their use of the little disrupt: Any Arekkhi listening for conversation might become suspicious not to hear any.

In the closed-off control cabin, Bhelan moved swiftly, checking only that the ship had been recharged for the trip down before he examined the few possible hiding places: The obvious spot behind the com rack--nothing new there, though when he'd boarded earlier in the day, back on ground, there'd been a flat sound-recorder stuck onto the rack. I
was meant to find that one,
he knew. He'd removed it, disabled the receiver, and tossed it in the waste bin. A more careful search had revealed the second machine, buried in the padding of the pilot's seat. After careful consideration, he'd used a small handtool to switch the sound off--mistakes happened, after all; whoever had arranged for the device would think his planter careless. There hadn't been a third.
Not the Iron Duke, then.

Probably not. Now, a very quick check showed no new device on board, and the sound on the machine in his seat-padding was still disabled. He hadn't thought anyone would try to access the ship here, but one checked, of course. He leaned over the narrow rank of boards and began the brief sequence that would turn the platform where the shuttle sat. But as he keyed the sequence, the door to the main cabin slid open and Magdalena came in, closely followed by Alexis. Bhelan's whiskers went briefly flat to his face, but Khyriz had cautioned him about these alien women, and as he turned, his smile was back in place.

Humans are friendly and curious, he said. Don't misinterpret

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what they tell you; they 're more open than we are. And don't underestimate
their .intelligence.

The interrelator gave him a pleasant lip-smile. "I hope you don't mind,"

Alexis said apologetically, "but we'd really rather ride up here with you. After two months of viewing the outside on vid-screens ..."

"It's just the way Khyriz told me," Magdalena added eagerly as the other woman's voice trailed away. "His last letter, he told me about the landing you made on his plateau, Bhelan! About"--her eyes wandered the little chamber--"about sitting over there," she pointed to the chair nearest the larger of the side view-ports, "and being sick all over the view."

Despite inner dread--he could almost feel that steel talon tickling the short throat-fur--Bhelan laughed. "It took two cleaners to mop up the mess and a full nine days to remove the last of the smell." I
knew it would come to this...

when I first swore to Khyriz, I knew it.

The tension left him as he gestured toward the three other chairs and took the pilot's, snapping toggles as he ran the final check: rudders, fixed wings, seals, air supply, fuel, the locks on the forward heliblade that allowed the craft to land nose up in a very small space--it was the only way a shuttle could come down on the Emperor's island--and finally the com-link with station. Through all this, he was vaguely aware of the two women: Khyriz's dark-she Magdalena taking Khyriz's favorite seat, while the pale-furred
(no,
pale-haired, that was Khyriz's word)
Alexis deftly fastened the mesh safety harness between her legs and across her shoulders. As she eased back into the chair, the door between the inner and outer air locks automatically slid up into the ceiling when all the air had been removed from the docking bay.

Bhelan eased the shuttle forward.

The inner door slid shut behind them, the outer lock began to slide upward.

Bhelan tugged his harness tight and glanced over to make certain

Magdalena's was snug. "You were warned about the drop...?" he began. To his surprise, Alexis laughed, a bell-like, human laugh.

''Khyriz said that this thing drops like a brick until it's away from station." She turned to Magdalena and added, in English,

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"What that old Earth theme park once called an E-ticket ride. Ready?"

Magdalena grinned, though the whites of her eyes showed all around the dark iris. "Let 'er rip," she replied and leaned as far forward as she could to smile at Bhelan. "Old joke," she told him in Arekkhi. "We'll be just fine."

The very thought of that long drop had scared her half silly, and even given her bad falling-dreams on the ship coming here. The actuality of it was nothing at all: a slight shift as the little vessel went from station gravity to none at all. By the time she'd drawn a deep breath and let it out again, the pilot had full power on, and the shuttle was easing smoothly away from station, moving toward the blue-green ball of a planet below.

Bhelan knew his business, she thought appraisingly. Of course, the Emperor was said to be fond of his youngest son; he'd make sure Khyriz had a very skilled pilot. Entry into the atmosphere was slightly jolting, but only slightly; Bhelan took them on an easy descent that circled the planet twice before leveling out at perhaps two kilometers above the surface-- three above the oceans. "A long flight," he said apologetically--the first words he'd spoken in some time. "There is less bodily stress, and ... well, you see more of our world this way."

The dark-she gazed out the view-port, watching everything. The interrelator, he noticed, was intent on his every move at the controls. She was a pilot herself, Khyriz had said. She'd learn a lot just from observing. Well, he'd chosen his course hours earlier, by allowing the women up front.

They were on the night side at the moment, about to come into sunrise, half a world from the Emperor--over the Iron Duke's upland holdings in northwestern Akkherif. Another Arekkhi standard hour and they'd be on approach to the royal island. Another hour, he could walk away from his passengers and, with good fortune, learn how his family was.

"What's that?" Magdalena's sharp question broke into his thoughts. "Look!

Something's on fire!"

Bhelan glanced ahead through the pilot's view-screen: The

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sky was pale rose from the naming inferno below. Bhelan glanced sidelong where the woman was pointing and took a swift look at his boards. One of the smaller villages--too small for the screen to show a name--was down there. Or had been. Flames roared high, consuming the grasslands for several
parths
around it.

Alexis eased her restraints and came partway to her feet, leaning forward. "I can't see--is that a
building
in all that?"

Bhelan hadn't thought so fast in all his life. "It's--oh, there, I see! So far from the capital, things are still not mechanized, and the old ways hold. They ...

the fields have been picked over and they burn what is left."

"Fields?" The translator sounded suspicious, he thought nervously. The two women exchanged glances.

"But--that building--" the other protested.

"Possibly an ancient fence, or an elderly grain-storage no one thought it worth the time to unbuild. My father's people had fields in such state of repair," he added smoothly. Silence.

They flew through the night, and the sun was a ruddy glow on the horizon before anyone spoke again. Alexis eased back in her chair and tightened the mesh.

"Oh. Well, of course, they used to burn fields on Earth, a long time ago," she said. "I just wouldn't have thought... at night..." She broke off abruptly, then added, "Of course, I know there's plenty to learn still. Now that we're here, we'll be able to travel to places like that, talk to people."

Bhelan kept his whiskers forward with an effort. "Of course," he murmured, then keyed the front-view darkeners as the sun came up.
Innocents,
he thought sadly.
Even if these aliens... these women... are able to somehow
walk the world as they choose, the Iron Duke will never allow them within
two days' journey of that place.
How many, he wondered bleakly, had died there tonight? At whose hands... and why?

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CHAPTER 5

***

Khyriz shook out the sleeves of his favorite red robe--the one Magdalena liked best--and glanced at the reflective wall of his bathing chamber.

Droplets of water beaded the outer edges; he could see the robe but not his face.
Good enough,
he decided. Odd to think how long it had been since he'd fussed this much over his appearance.

If he went onto his balcony now, he'd probably be able to see the shuttle coming in on the final up-swoop; perhaps the grapples would already have it on the ground, the hatch open....

You promised your father,
he reminded himself. Considering the current crisis from half a world away and the Council's meeting to deal with it, the Iron Duke wouldn't be anywhere except chambers at this hour, along with the Emperor, the Prelate, and the rest of the council. No doubt they would be there for hours to come, especially the Iron Duke. The Prince could picture him, bellowing about the damage to his lands, and the cost to his own purse for lost fields and buildings.
Of course, Zhenu wouldn't care about the loss of
life except how it hurt his earnings,
Khyriz thought grimly.

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