Ammonite Planets (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #1-3 (77 page)

“I’ll use the kitchen ortholift then,” she said. “I think I know the way.”

“Oh no you don’t! I will escort you. I don’t want you touching anything!”

Amanita led her slowly across the receiving area and between the two imposing columns which lined the archway into the visitors’ chamber. She by-passed the larger and more ornate magmite columns leading into the voting room with its four chairs, and took Grace along the passageway which led into the music chamber.

This proved to have been a mistake, for Amanita’s two children were dutifully practicing their music squares there, and they stopped abruptly as they saw who had entered.

“Aunt Grace!” Xenon 50 shouted, throwing himself a couple of steps in her direction before he remembered that his mother would not approve, and stopped dead in his tracks.

“Aunt Grace!” whispered Genna, her hands going to her face, not fast enough to hide the leap of pleasure she had felt. The little girl’s eyes slid guiltily to her mother, waiting for retribution, and clearly expecting it.

Amanita’s firm steps on the magmite floor stopped, and she glared at her children, nostrils flaring with displeasure.

“Never address this person as your aunt!” she snapped.

“No, Magestra.”

“Sorry, Maestra. I forgot.” They chanted in unison, hanging heads low.

“She is nothing but a traitor. I thought I would die when she betrayed us.” Amanita put a hand over her heart, as if to measure its pain.

“Yes, Magestra.”

“I know, Maestra.”

“You must never, ever forget how evil this person is, how she has tried to exterminate our family, how she has destroyed our lives. She is not, and never was a member of this family. She is vermin, and should be treated as such.”

The two children kept their heads down submissively, and Amanita swept her unwanted visitor on, taking her now out of the music room and into the passageway leading to the eating area, and the back ortholift. Unfortunately, at that moment, the door to the head of house chamber opened and Atheron walked out, with Xenon 49 close on his heels.

All four parties came to a stop, and stared at each other. Grace felt a frisson of fear travel up to her neck, out across her arms, and then all the way down her back again. She tightened her hold on the scabbard of her catana automatically, and swallowed, waves of absolute panic keeping her frozen to the magmite she was standing on.

Atheron was looking around with interest. Had she come here alone? Perhaps this was the moment? His plan involved something else, but he should be flexible, after all. His own hand went to the weapon at his hip. Then his eyes caught the flicker of movement to the right. Xenon’s two children were peering nervously around the music room door, their eyes like saucers.

He pursed his lips, thinking quickly. No, then. Not the time. Well, she would wait. There was no reason to abandon the plan, after all. Everything should be implemented at exactly the right moment. It was always a mistake to improvise in these things. He let his hand move away from his hip, and assumed his famous smile.

“A most unexpected surprise!” He licked his lips. “A fraternal visit! How charming.” He saw that Xenon was staring at his sister with undisguised hatred, and smiled even more. “So nice to see families staying in touch!”

“I was just leaving,” managed Grace, trying desperately to keep her voice reasonably even.

“Were you? What a pity. We could have had a little chat about old times, couldn’t we?”

“Another day, perhaps?” Grace was already retreating slowly towards the eating chamber.
 

The smile came again. “I am sure of it,” he said, putting a promise in his voice, “I shall look forward to it – most eagerly, I assure you.”

Grace had reached the archway into the eating area, and stepped backwards into it, turning quickly and crossing to the back ortholift in one fluid movement, leaving the two Sellite men thankfully behind. Once she had touched the buttons to the lift she felt much safer. For a moment there she had felt that Atheron was going to kill her on the spot. As the ortholift arrived, she stepped thankfully in. Sweat had broken out on her brow and she was shaking all over. Atheron’s smile did that to her, she realized.
 

The last she saw was Amanita’s face, another beacon of hatred. She shivered again. She hoped she never had to come back here. She actually felt relieved that she was leaving soon for Xiantha, with Six and Diva. Arcan had agreed to transport them all over to the orbital station in the Independence, once the details of the new Valhai Foundation had been finalized.
 

THE FOLLOWING DAY Grace sat down in her old skyrise, and put a tridi call through to Vion, on Coriolis. She wondered how she would feel when she saw him again.
 

When he answered she saw that he was surprised to see her, and he seemed pleased, too, she thought. Grace looked at the face in front of her on the screen. Vion was just as attractive as always, and yet he didn’t arouse the same feelings in her as he used to. She began to relax.

“I wanted to sound you out about something, Vion.”

He smiled. “Go ahead, Grace. You are looking very well.”

That did make her blush, but she tried to dissimulate it. “It is about Aracely.”

Immediately Vion’s face became alert. “Yes?”

“Do you think she would come to work with me on the Valhai Foundation? She finishes University this year, doesn’t she?”

He nodded. “House management. Yes, she takes her finals in about a month, I think.”

“Only I need somebody with administrative skills, and she always had a great sense of humour … I thought … she might like it.”

Vion was silent for a few moments.

“Sellite women have never worked,” he pointed out.

“I know, but Arcan has spoken to Mandalon 50, and he says that he will give special dispensation in this case.”

That made Vion arch one eyebrow. “Did he? That will set quite a precedent on Valhai. Mmm. I should think she would jump at the chance.”

“Then would you put it to her? I wasn’t quite sure how to ask her. I know she will need your father’s permission, and I didn’t want to breach any protocols. You know I can’t speak to either of them directly, not unless Aracely accepts the job, that is.”

“Will she be paid?”

“Oh, sorry. I forgot. Yes, she would receive four thousand credits per year. Mandalon insisted.”

Vion whistled. “That will be a very persuasive argument for my father. I will see what I can do.”

“Thank you. —How are you, Vion?”

He gave one of his old smiles. “I am well. Mercy and I are very happy. I would like you to meet her – I don’t think you knew her on Sell, did you?”

Grace shook her head. “She is a couple of years older than me. I know about her, of course, but I don’t think we ever met.”

“Things are good between you and I, aren’t they?”

She smiled back. “They are good. We weren’t right for each other. I wouldn’t have made you happy.”

“Perhaps. I certainly would have hampered
you
. I hear you solved the Kwaidian war single-handed. I didn’t know you were a warrior princess at heart!”

Grace looked down. “People died because of me.”

“Yes. But it is also true that people lived because of you. I go to New Kwaide regularly, and the untouchables are really building a future for themselves. They had no future before. Too many of them would have ended up in the effluent conduits of Benefice.”

“Are you happy with your work?”

He nodded, serious. “Yes. I am very glad to have had this chance – I’m a much better doctor because of it.”

“You were pretty good before.”

He grinned, and the slight strain between them vanished completely. “But now I am better!”

Grace smiled back. “But less modest! Let me know about Aracely, will you? I am going to Xiantha for a few weeks, and I would like to know her decision before I go.”

“Will do. Take care, Grace. I hope Mercy and I can see you non-virtually soon!”

“I would like that. Maybe after we get back from Xiantha? Cutting the connexion.”

AS SIX MANOEVRED the shuttle carefully down onto Xianthan soil, they got their first chance to see the rich colours of the planet. The area they were landing in was semi-desert, which reflected the sun and Cian off its sandy surface and so was brighter than even Coriolis. The Xianthes were clearly visible, towering off into the sky to the north of the spaceport.
 

Six’s eyes slid over to them and brightened. “It’s almost worth coming here just to travel the Xianthes,” he said. “When are we going up there?”

“Just remember that is not why we came,” said Diva.

“It might not be why
you
came, but—”

“Six!” Grace’s soft voice broke in reproachfully, “you know we have to sort things out first.”

“Err … I was just thinking that you won’t really need me for all that, and since I’m here anyway, I might just as well go on up there and wait for you at the cages.” Six tried to look innocent. “You know, so as not to get in the way.” He stared out of the porthole at the two huge fingers of metallic rock which jutted a staggering 25 miles up into the sky. Even at this distance, they were awesome. He could see that the left-hand side Xianthe was half in sunlight, half in shadow, although the one to the right of the Lost Valley was in full sunlight. That meant that it was nearly the perfect time of year to travel the Dark Xianthe, he knew. The elves, sprites and blue rays against the night sky were supposed to be the most spectacular sight in the whole binary system, and there was no way he was going to miss out on a visit.

“I might need you, Six,” Diva snapped, “so you needn’t think you are going to oozle out of it and take off for a ride up to the stratosphere. Not yet, anyway.”

Six took umbrage at that. “Excuse me? Oozle? I was only trying to stay out of your way. Of course, if you feel you need back-up, I’ll be happy to come.”

Diva muttered something under her breath, but then let it drop.

“Do you think we should stay together?” asked Grace. “I mean, I have to check out on the donor program, and you want to try to discover what happened to all your oocytes, Diva. Maybe we should split up?”

Diva shook her head. “I think we should all stay together. We know very little about Xiantha, and although Arcan left us bracelets I don’t think we should risk anything.”

“Fine. Then let’s head off to the Donor Headquarters. They should be able to tell us what happened to your genetic material, and I might get an idea of just how they are planning to get new material in the future.”

“Ladies…” Six bowed exaggeratedly, and ushered them towards a waiting cart. “This way …”

Diva looked in horror at the wooden wheels lined with metal, and at the two vaniven attached to the front of the cart. “Surely we aren’t expected to travel in THAT?” she demanded. “It will shake our spines out of their sockets. I’d rather travel by foot!”

Six shook his head. “It looks as if it doesn’t work like that over here,” he informed her, indicating with a sweep of his hands the total lack of any other form of transport. “I guess everybody uses these carts to get around on Xiantha.”

“No wonder they haven’t invented anything in centuries! It probably takes them all day to get to work!”

“Yes. But, ‘when in Lumina, follow the light’, you know.”

“Oh, very well.” Diva made a great show of clambering up into the waiting cart. “But this is going to be a short visit, for sure.”

“As long as you include a cage over the Xianthes, I don’t care,” said Six. “But I absolutely refuse to go anywhere until we have seen them. They say they are breathtaking at this time of the year.”

“Yes, yes. All right. Noted.” Diva lapsed into silence, and seemed to withdraw inside herself.

“Look!” Grace was almost hanging out of her side of the ancient vehicle. “There are shops lining the street!”

“Shops? What are they?”

“Oh, Diva! Has nobody ever told you about them? On Xiantha people exchange clothes for food or money – in these little rooms called shops. My mother told me about them.”

Diva wrinkled her nose. “Why on Sacras would anybody want to exchange their clothes?” she asked. “They would be all crinkled, and … and … used.”

“Not used clothes, silly – new clothes.”
 

“But new clothes are made by tailors.” Diva was puzzled.

“And what, my lady, happens if you don’t happen to have your own tailors?” Six broke in, cross.

“You look like the Kwaidians, dressed in sackcloth.”

Six bristled up. “And what’s wrong—”

“I didn’t say that it was wrong, that is just the way things work.”

“You sound so smug!”

“Why? I’m perfectly happy to walk around in sackcloth. In fact I did when I was on Kwaide, you know.”

“I suppose you did,” Six admitted grudgingly. “But there is no need to make it sound as if it is wrong.”

“I didn’t! I was simply pointing out that you either have tailors, or you have nothing.”

“Well, not here, apparently.” Grace told them. “Here the tailors make what they want in the sizes they want and then wait for someone the right size to walk in.”

“Sounds like a stupid thing to do, if you ask me. What if nobody that size ever walks in?”

Grace frowned. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I suppose they alter them or something. Now I come to think about it, it does seem a bit … arbitrary, doesn’t it?”

“It’s most strange. If they have tailors you would have thought that they would have realized it would be much better to work privately for somebody whose size is known. Repeating things in different sizes sounds very wasteful.”

“But that may be why they have all those gorgeous clothes, all those swirling colours!” said Grace. “I expect they do it to attract ‘customers’. I am certainly going to get some of their things before I go back to Valhai. We will have to stop at a ‘shop’ at some stage.”

Six sighed. “Just don’t expect me to come in with you. I can’t think of anything worse than hunting through a pile of clothes to see if they have one in your size. I’d rather sit through a four-hour speech!”

“Spoilsport! My mother told me that it is quite fun.”

“If you’re a girl …”

“Men do it too, here on Xiantha.”

“Not Kwaidian men.” Six was firm.
 

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. We just don’t. We wouldn’t.”

“Well you can stand outside and watch the vaniven go past when we go in,” said Grace, “but I am not going back without a few of their wonderfully coloured clothes.”

“OK. As long as I get a trip or two around the Xianthes, I don’t care.”

“Fine!”

THE DONOR HEADQUARTERS at Eletheia was quite a long way from the spaceport, and it became clear after about half-an-hour that traveling by vaniven cart was not going to be an option.
 

“There must be some other way of getting around this planet,” grumbled Six. “I would rather drag myself along on my elbows than go one step more in one of these carts!”

Diva rubbed her posterior gingerly and nodded. “Me too. I really miss Arcan – he would have taken us there in a moment!” She winced again as a particularly bad bump in the road transmitted a shock right through her body.
 

Six felt surprisingly at one with her. He was feeling the hardness of the seats too. “So how
are
we going to get across the highlands to Eletheia? Any ideas?”

There was a brief pause and then Grace and Diva, who were both sitting side by side and staring at Six, grinned at the same time and pointed.

“How about one of those?” they said, in unison.

Six swiveled around. There were two large horse-like animals passing at a great speed, taking the bumpy terrain in their stride, and giving their riders what was clearly a most comfortable journey. “What are they?” he asked the driver of the cart.

“Canths,” came back the slow answer. “Very expensive. You wouldn’t want to waste your money on one of them.”

“Waste? Best investment on the planet, if you ask me. Take us to wherever we need to go to rent, borrow or buy one of those.” He nearly added ‘steal’ to the list, but a sharp look from Grace had stopped him.

The driver deflated. He had been counting on a large fare to cover recent investments in alcoholic substances. “Very well.” His eyes flashed in a distinctly avaricious way. “But there is a surcharge for taking people to the canth farm.”

“I’ll surcharge
you
in a minute,” Diva informed him, drawing her Coriolan dagger, and assuming a fierce expression she didn’t really feel. But she was very good at reading people, and she knew when someone was trying to swindle them.

The driver rearranged his face hurriedly. “Just a misunderstanding,” he stuttered. “I made a mistake. In your case the surcharge will be waived.”

“Just so long as we are clear.” Diva smiled coldly, and withdrew the dagger from his belly button, which most unfortunately was clearly visible. “No offence meant.”

“No, no,” the man said hastily. “None taken, err … your ladleship. None taken.” He turned his attention back to the reins, and directed the cart at right angles to its previous direction. “We will be there in five hours!”

“Only five hours more in this cart!” said Six. “Her ladleship will be most disappointed.” Then he laughed like a drain until Diva punched him in the arm.

THEY WERE MORE relieved to finally arrive at the canth farm. Grace was in such agony that she could hardly speak, and even Diva’s usually stoicism had worn off along with the skin on her rump. They staggered down from the cart and paid the driver his due.

“I will never ever travel in one of those things again,” exclaimed Diva.
 

“No. We can go the executive way now.” Six pointed at the sign, which read ‘Canths available’. “—Although I don’t see anything about renting.”

“We will just have to buy them, then. Thank goodness I thought to bring some money over.”

“Yes, Diva, that is all very well, but I don’t see why you should have to use your money to pay for us.” Grace frowned.

“You would rather use yours?”

“You know I haven’t got any. Not at the moment, anyway. I gave everything back to Amanita.”

“Then stop making silly comments.”

Grace pulled a face. “You won’t think it is so silly when you run out of funds.”

“Bah. We can take some of Arcan’s money then. He won’t have any need of it.”

Six perked up. “That’s true.” He thought about it and smiled. “We would be doing him a favour if we helped him to spend it.”

Diva laughed. “Let’s spend our way through my money first,” she suggested. “After all, it is only sitting there doing nothing in a bank in Mesteta.”

Six looked around him. There were various corrals of animals – stretching out as far as he could see. “This is more like!” he said. “If we
are
going to travel by quadruped, let’s make it the express service!”

A Xianthan came out to meet them, garbed in one of the most colourful garments they had ever seen.
 

“Do you think there is some rank thing about the number of colours on their clothes?” whispered Grace. “The cart driver only had one colour, but this man has hundreds!”

The man turned deliberately to her. “You are very observant, and nearly right,” he said. “Our choice of colours reflects our contentment with our lifestyle. I am most happy, so I wear raiment of many, many colours. I imagine that your driver was unhappy with his lot, and so had only one colour.” He touched fingers with Grace, and gave the standard system greeting. “Almagest, Cian and Valhai, the perfect heavenly triangle; may their orbits remain stable.”

She gave the standard reply. “May the flares on Almagest remain quiescent.”

“I am the canth keeper, my current name is the man who keeps canths, and I am plurichrome,” he said.

“My name is Grace.”