Galactic Mage 4: Alien Arrivals (58 page)

Chapter 51

P
ernie waited patiently as Kettle, Nipper, and the nameless serving girl brought out trays of fruits and things to nibble on while the main courses were prepared. The girl, who Pernie guessed might be at least four years her senior, carefully poured the wine around the table. Pernie watched, judging her as she went about the work, satisfied to see her spill twice and several times having to add wine to a pour because she’d pulled away too soon the first time. Pernie wouldn’t have done that.

Eventually the diners were brought in. First came Orli Pewter, smiling at something Roberto was saying. Pernie saw that it was in fact Roberto as well, despite the lack of the uniform he’d always worn before. She rather liked his long-tailed purple coat, especially now that he wore a fresh one that wasn’t torn apart at the sleeves. Behind them came several women who, all but one, wore the same bright color Roberto did. Their tightly fitted corsets marked them as being of one crew—likely the silvery spaceship in the meadow—while the variety of their flesh tones marked them as being as different from one another as elf from man from orc.

But they were, to the last of them, exquisite to gaze upon. Pernie marveled at how pretty they all were, though not so beautiful as the lady elves. She noted, however, that the lady elves could not possibly be as strong as some of these women, for there were four of them who were sublimely powerful. They sat together, and Pernie marveled at how the smooth skin of their round shoulders and bulging biceps was drawn tautly enough that the candlelight could shape the definition of the muscles underneath. Pernie had seen far more than a few men who were not near so strong as that. Seeing them made her smile, and she thought they must be great warriors from Earth. The fact that she couldn’t talk to them made her squirm where she leaned against the wall. It was as if the most exotic and wonderful women of Earth had come all the way across space just to eat with the people of Calico Castle. Well, with Master Altin and everyone else at Calico Castle except her. Not with Pernie.

Pernie wished she could eat with them. Or even just pour them wine. She wanted to so much that she was tempted to kill her illusion spell and just walk out into the room. But she didn’t. One glance at Orli sitting there was enough to keep her on course.

At length, all the seats but Altin’s at the head of the table were filled, and Pernie knew that there would be no more to arrive. From the angle she had at the table, twice she saw the long arm of a very dark woman—the only one besides Orli not in the purple uniform to match Roberto’s coat—reach for a wine cup in a way that seemed as if she might be going to grab the one that sat before Orli instead of her own. Both times Pernie nearly jumped out to warn her off of taking a drink, but both times, Pernie realized her mistake. Still, it made her shift to the nearer side of the armor, where the shadows weren’t quite so dark. She knew her illusion wavered some, but it was still dark enough. No one was looking for her anyway.

After a time, when she was done appreciating the beauty and the alien nature of Calico Castle’s visitors, and as she shifted uneasily waiting for Orli to take a drink of wine—
Why is she not drinking her stupid wine
? Pernie thought repeatedly—Pernie was able to catch the gist of the conversation. It seemed the plant that she had heard them talking about in the courtyard was a “trans-plant,” and it was on some planet somewhere. She didn’t know what a
trans-plant
was, but aliens were trying to dig it up.

She couldn’t imagine there being any more aliens than there already were. How could there be so many? Why would there be? But she supposed aliens might be like the creatures in nature in that way. Just lots and lots of them, and no sooner had she thought she’d learned about them all than she’d find some new one sitting in a tree. Or else someone would bring her a book filled with new descriptions and sketches to go along. Or maybe someone might come along and take her off to a place like String, where there were all sorts of new animals to learn about—and be eaten by. So it seemed to her, upon considering for a moment, that there likely were as many aliens as the night sky could hold. She supposed it could hold a lot if it wanted to, just as a jungle could.

As she continued to eavesdrop, she learned that Master Altin had gone off to see Her Majesty to ask for help with the new problem of the aliens digging up whatever he and Orli Pewter and Roberto and all these strong, pretty Earth women had buried there. Orli Pewter didn’t think help was going to be allowed.

“Her Majesty is off doing something sneaky,” Orli explained. “Altin hasn’t been able to reach her, even by her messengers, for most of this whole last year. He’s convinced she’s up to something that she doesn’t want anyone, including him, to know about.”

Roberto nodded as he stuffed a chunk of roasted boar into his mouth and chased it with a draught of wine. “I got that feeling a long time ago myself. When I tried to get help with the wannabe stowaway problem at Murdoc Bay, she pretty much blew me off. When I did get in contact with her two months ago and told her people were trying to sneak onto my spaceship—
our
spaceship—she patted me on the side of my face like I was five and said, ‘Just be a good boy and make us both rich back there on Earth.’ Then she blew me off again. I haven’t gotten through to her since.”

“Altin says he’s seen some strange designs too, some things he found in Aderbury’s office, strange fortress designs. He thinks she might be trying to colonize another planet somewhere. It would certainly explain the complete and total absence of
Citadel
all year.”

“But why would the Queen keep such a thing secret from the Galactic Mage? Isn’t that what she pays him for?” Pernie tilted her head sideways as the woman who asked the question spoke, marveling at her lithe, long limbs, her skin as dark as the shadows Pernie was hiding in. She looked to Pernie like the statue of the Huntress she’d seen once on a trip to Leekant with Gimmel and Nipper a few years ago, all grace and strength, a beauty that, while still entirely feminine, spoke of solidity and deadliness rather than something soft and simply pleasing to the eye. Pernie decided that if she couldn’t be beautiful like the lady elves, then someday she would be beautiful like that.

“Well, she says she’s paying him to discover things,” Orli said. “But I think, if I’m being honest, our Yellow Fire project irritates her to no end. I think Deeqa is right about Her Majesty in that. It seems like she ought to really want Altin working on whatever she’s doing—assuming she’s doing anything at all. I’m pretty sure that’s part of why she still just doesn’t like me very much. I’m always keeping Altin from what everyone else wants him to do.”

“You are,” came Altin’s voice as he himself came through the doors. “And it does vex her to no end.” He strode across the intervening distance and took his place at the head of the table. “But, she is not quite so disinterested in the Yellow Fire project as she would have you believe. I know for a fact that she covets Liquefying Stone worse than any drunkard does his wine.”

Pernie’s eyes shifted from watching him to watching Orli’s wine cup, realizing she’d forgotten to watch it for a time. It still sat right where it had been, though. Pernie had grown so used to watching things carefully since her first encounter with the sugar shrimp that she was sure of it, sure that the distance between the base of Orli’s cup and the tip of her soupspoon was exactly as it had been.

It occurred to Pernie that Master Altin would be very sad to watch Orli die. He would try to take her to the fat doctor in Leekant, and he would try to save her with his high-ranked healing spells. But it wouldn’t work. Fayne Gossa worked too fast. Pernie felt bad about making Master Altin sad. Still, he would get better in time. Kettle had stopped crying about that old man, Ilbei Spadebreaker, soon enough, and though Pernie hadn’t seen the woman in a long time now, she thought she might have stopped crying about dead Tytamon too.

Even with Master Altin’s mention of wine, and despite the fact that he took a long draught of his own, Orli still didn’t reach for her cup. Pernie wanted to run over there and pour some down her throat. Waiting was unbearable.

And wait she did, because all through the dinner, Orli never had a drop. She drank water all evening through. They ate five full courses and then sat about talking long after, the nameless girl coming in repeatedly and pouring more and more wine for everyone, but the unendingly uncooperative Orli Pewter just sat there. In fact, the serving girl came so many times that Roberto and several of his crew had grown louder and louder, and soon they were using words that they would not have had they known Pernie was listening—not that she cared, of course. Gimmel had taught her all the bad words, and they’d once had fits of giggling over the course of a wagon ride back from town. Roberto had once taught her some good ones from the Earth language as well. Who would have thought there could be so many words for the private parts of men? And there were at least twice that many for the private parts of women, up top and below.

But no matter how loud Roberto and the women got, at least those that had not gotten up and gone back to their berths on the silver ship, Orli simply never touched the wine. Not the whole time, even after Roberto and the last of his crewwomen were gone. Pernie knew they were his crew after listening so long. But they were gone, and soon it was only Master Altin and Orli left. Pernie thought they might have some kissy-kissy romantic toast, but when the serving girl came back to clear away what remained of the dessert plates, she asked if Orli was going to have any of her wine, to which Orli said, “No.” Then the girl took it away.

The whole evening ruined.

Pernie would have teleported herself out in disgust, knowing that she wouldn’t get another opportunity today, but she also knew that with just the two of them there, Altin would recognize the sound of her teleport when the air sucked into the empty space. He would know someone had been there, and then he would come look. She knew he’d found his divining powers too, which meant for all she knew he could sniff her out magically. So she had to continue to sit and wait. A long hunt she’d been on, and never got to take a shot.

When the serving girl was gone, Altin leaned across the table toward Orli and took her hands in his. What he said next was poison in Pernie’s ears.

“You’ve been right all along about Her Majesty and the wedding. And even trying not to be selfish, I’ve managed it anyway. I—”

Orli cut him off. “No,” she said. “You haven’t. And whatever Her Majesty made you come here and say, it’s fine. I was serious before, and I am now. I don’t care when. We already have each other, and since things keep unfolding as they do, well, I realize how silly it was for me to be in such a rush. I’ve been the selfish one, Altin. The very fact of that guilt you’ve felt all this time is proof. I’ve been married to an old idea—not that marriage is an old idea—just that, I don’t know, that I needed some ceremony to signify something, when in truth I really don’t.”

He smiled, and Pernie saw the love in his eyes as he gazed upon Orli Pewter. It made Pernie’s skin burn and her chest ache. Master Altin would never look at her like that. Not while she was just a little girl. It didn’t matter how many words Pernie knew for private parts if she couldn’t make him look at her like that. Watching made her stomach turn.

“Well, that’s not exactly what I was going to talk about,” Altin said. “Yet it is precisely, though in another way. Her Majesty didn’t say a thing about it, to be frank. She was irritated at my insistence to see her for about three blinks of an eye, and then, upon learning of this strange new set of machines on our new Yellow Fire’s world, she’s suddenly in a different sort of huff. I pressed her on it, and got her to agree to send
Citadel
… as soon as she can. But she said she wants me on it when it arrives.”

“Like, as in, you have to take command of it finally?”

He nodded.

Orli rolled her eyes at that, and looked as if she were about to protest. Pernie was glad Orli was mad. Orli was always mad when Altin wanted to do something fun and dangerous. Pernie had seen it more than once. But Altin stopped her before she could speak.

“You’re coming too. I made sure of it,” he said, which irritated Pernie and seemed to pacify the woman some. “But first there’s something I want to do.”

“What’s that?” Orli asked.

“Well, that gets to the other thing. Let’s go have your ceremony right now.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. We can call up Captain Jackson on your old ship, the
Aspect
, and have her marry us right this moment. You’ve still got your maid of honor in Roberto”—he paused long enough for them both to laugh—“though he is a bit on the tipsy side just now, and I’ll have Nipper stand in as my best man. Let’s have it done.”

“Altin, you don’t have to do that. I can wait. Her Majesty will be happier if we wait, and that will only make your life, and our lives, easier down the road.”

“Perhaps,” he said as Pernie’s heart turned to ash inside her chest—she was actually siding with Orli Pewter’s arguments as she watched, forced into an unholy alliance with the very source of her private agony. “But I see how fate has written it for us. Look how time passes; look how events continue to conspire. We’ve opened up the frothy ale keg of the universe, and it is foaming still. We’ve had this conversation before. So many times. And yet, here we are, unmarried still, once more as the gods see fit to amuse themselves with our lives. I won’t go another day without you as my wife. You must agree, as I will not allow you to refuse.”