Authors: Ru Emerson,A. C. Crispin
"Oh?" Magdalena asked, and she could hear the disappointment in her voice. So could he; he laid the back of his hand against her cheek briefly.
"Apologies," he repeated softly. "I hope to return by early evening. If so, may I join you for a late
edha?
' Arekkhi ate five or more meals per day.
Edna,
a light repast that was more like a snack, was often an hour for casual parties.
They ate
zhner,
the last meal of the day near what would be human midnight, and it was only for family, though one might invite a betrothed.
"Of course," Magdalena said, and managed a smile.
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"You can show us which of the sauces are which," Alexis added. Khyriz laughed aloud--a little spatting noise.
"I can keep
you
away from the hot ones, which I know you cannot bear," he replied dryly, and left them. Alexis followed as far as the entry.
"Hah!" the interrelator called out after him. Magdalena heard him laugh again, then the door opening and closing behind him. Alexis came back in, kicking off her shoes in the doorway. "He looks good, doesn't he, Mags?"
The translator nodded. "He--didn't seem strange to you, did he?"
"Not really. A little shy. After all, it's been more than a year since we've seen him, and we're here instead of at school. Why?" Alexis asked. "Now--strange is what I'd have said about his brother, or Bhelan when we flew over that fire.
If Bhelan had been human, he'd have been stuttering and sweating."
"I know. That--and those Asha." Magdalena shook her head and managed a smile. "You'll think I'm paranoid, already believing that everyone's up to something."
"If
you
feel that way, I won't think you're paranoid, I promise you that. I'll at least listen, and test the air myself." She turned as a chime sounded from somewhere on the other side of the entry hall. "That's the servants' door, bet anything. Our things must be here."
Magdalena grimaced. "Servants. That's going to be so strange."
Alexis smiled. "Remember that the alternative is we keep this barn-sized museum clean ourselves, do our own cooking and washing, and still find time to do our jobs for the CLS."
"Yeah, I know."
"Remember, Arekkhi are like our own people, they choose what work they want to do, and they're paid for it," Alexis reminded her. "You're helping feed two families. Come on; we've got bedrooms ... let me think, down the main hall, all the way at the end ... here." The interrelator flicked two wall switches to open opposite doors. "Very nice," she added as she looked inside.
"Human-shaped beds, tons of Arekkhi
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bolsters and cushions and enormous closets. Want first choice, or shall we flip a coin?''
Several hours later, Magdalena shoved her last pair of socks into one of the narrow bins that substituted for drawers and shoved pins into her hair to get it off her neck. Early afternoon sun poured through the open balcony doors and it was suddenly very warm in the small chamber. "Time to go somewhere else." Maybe find something to eat and drink; it had been a long time since her last meal.
Alexis had left the door to her bedroom open but had apparently finished unpacking earlier; she was nowhere in sight. The translator pictured the floor-layout map they'd both been given, and started toward the small eating room that was supposedly part of their pantry. On her way back up the hall, she passed the office, its door braced open by a large crate marked "Main Computer." Alexis sat cross-legged on the floor pulling components out of the box, her back against the desk that had been built to human
specifications. Bits of gear were spread all over the floor.
"You look hungry," Magdalena remarked. "And hot. Things like that go together better when you're fed, remember?"
"Yeah ... thanks. You know how it goes...."
"Tunnel vision; I've been there. But the harder you work, the less gets accomplished. Except you've done a lot in here already," she added, looking around. Other than the computer and its various hookups and accessories, everything else they'd brought for the office seemed to be in place.
Probably
we won't hold many meetings of any kind in here to begin with,
Magdalena thought; most things would go through the Emperor and his councils at the start. But the room looked efficient; the big desk had two human-shaped, comfortable-looking chairs, and room enough for two people to spread out. A set of shelves took up two walls; four of the forward-slanting Arekkhi chairs, a few small tables, and good lighting completed the furnishings.
"You said something about food," Alexis said as she got to her feet. "Lead me to it. And a nice cold mug of
rhi
-juice."
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***
Though that wasn't very likely: His elder two brothers had taken mates, and the heir already had two young. The succession was covered, and the laws covering population control applied to royals as strictly as to any others.
More strictly. Most of the wars of the past five hundred years have been
succession wars. But that's not your business, Perez, unless Khyriz wants to
talk about it. You 're just disappointed because you wanted to spend time
with him right away. It may not happen; you'd better get used to it.
She left the balcony doors ajar: After three years on StarBridge, it felt wonderful to lie in bed and feel the cool, fresh air moving across her face. It smelled nice, too: The vines coiled around the balcony were more of that citrusy-scented stuff.
She woke sometime later--by the clock-patch on the wall, two Arekkhi hours.
The air was almost chill, a little damp. What... ? She heard the low hum of a flitter beyond the window; probably what had wakened her in the first place.
She slid from beneath the thin woven cover and wrapped it around her shoulders as she got up and crossed the floor to gaze over the railing.
There must be one moon up at present, but it had to be nearly full; brilliant blue-white light illuminated the open grounds surrounding the old palace.
There were a few sets of parking blocks at the far edge of the short turf, and a small flitter was settling into place with a faint hiss of escaping air. A tall Arekkhi in a dark jumpsuit moved with easy grace toward the main entrance.
"Khyriz," Magdalena whispered, and for a moment, thought of leaning out where he could see her. Something about the speed at which he was moving made her hesitate. He was deliberately setting his feet in turn, bobbing slightly
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as he came onto his toes, his arms away from his body, fingers splayed: stalk-pace. The near-flat cant of his ears indicated the anger; she'd seen vid of the emotion, but never seen a hint of it in Khyriz. She retreated into shadow, and was about to turn away when suddenly Khyriz stopped and raised his head; his arms fell limply at his sides. He seemed to be staring directly at her bedroom. Magdalena gazed back, knowing he couldn't see her, wondering what could possibly be in his mind. Eventually he shook his head, humanlike, and moved on. She heard the faint hiss of the outer doors opening and closing behind him.
She realized she was holding her breath, let it out with a faint sigh, and went back to bed. "That wasn't just me," she whispered. "That was
strange."
Their first full day on-planet didn't start well. Alexis came into the pantry clutching her head and mumbling in English. "I forgot to take my supplements last night, can you believe it? My head's pounding like I spent the night drinking my great-grandpa's slivovitz--"
"His
what?"
"Wine made from beets. You don't want to know," Alexis said with a moan.
"Pills--I don't think I can see well enough to sort 'em out." Magdalena ran back to her own room as the interrelator sank into her chair with a groan; she returned as Rohf set down two large mugs of rhi-juice and two deep bowls of cold water, then quietly slipped from the room.
"Here," the translator said. "Headache--that's the B-supp, isn't it?"
"I didn't take
anything
last night," Alexis murmured, hand over her eyes.
"Give me the whole packet."
"Without food? They won't absorb right...."
"I know. Rohf is bringing dry bread. Don't think I could handle anything else for the moment." She waited while Magdalena tore open the clear pack of half a dozen pills, tablets, and capsules, let the translator hold her hand steady as she poured the contents out, then held the water to her mouth.
"Swell. Thanks, Mags. How long before we have to be at court today, or have you heard yet?"
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"Second afternoon hour," Magdalena said.
"Good. Means I can eat a piece of bread and crawl back in." The interrelator glanced up at her companion briefly before letting her eyes close. "Don't worry; I went through this my first time off StarBridge. Supp-deprivation headache. I'll be fine."
"I hope so."
"If someone had poisoned me, I wouldn't look this good," Alexis replied, then grinned feebly. "That was a joke."
"Bite your lip," Magdalena ordered, only half kidding. "Better yet, bite on this--here's your bread." She shifted to fluent and unaccented Arekkhi as the tall, pale-spotted servant hovered. "We do not blame you for this, Rohf... not last night's meals or drink. We need the packets, and the interrelator forgot to take hers." She held up Alexis's torn packet and another full one she'd brought for herself.
"The young Prince told us of the supplementals," Rohf replied softly; his ears quivered. "I shall remind the translator-she daily of the need, if she wishes?''
"Thank you, yes," Magdalena replied. "Remind the interrelator-she as well."
"Samples of food and drink were kept, of course. If it is required that I taste--?"
"Of course not!" Magdalena replied quickly. Rohf--who had just volunteered himself as a poison-tester, Magdalena realized--gestured assent and left the pantry.
"I'll never forget again, I swear," Alexis said, groaning.
"You won't get the chance," Magdalena replied good-naturedly; she gazed after Rohf, distressed. "Eat something and go back to bed. I'll wake you."
"Thanks," Alexis said weakly; she shoved aside the rest of her loaf and got unsteadily to her feet. "I'll be fine, honest. Did you take yours?"
"With you as an example? You bet I did," Magdalena said. "Shoo. I'll wake you in plenty of time for a bath."
"Good," Alexis replied vaguely and wandered away.
The translator wasn't fully convinced, but when she checked later, the other woman seemed to be dozing normally. She went back to her own room to sort through the contents of her
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robe-room. Two jumpsuits with the StarBridge logo on them; a jacket--her own, not David's; three brightly colored plain ankle-length and long-sleeved gowns with beretlike matching felt hats that would serve for their first meetings with the Arekkhi.... The pale blue gown would do for this first meeting.
She shoved those aside and fingered the two pairs of authentic Earth blue denims folded on the back shelf, the three precious cotton short-sleeved shirts folded neatly atop them and the music-cube she'd put together for Khyriz and herself. It had all taken up precious weight--but Khyriz would be so jealous of the "Levi's" marked jeans. "The Khyriz I knew on StarBridge would have been jealous." He'd been so strange----She sighed and shoved the robes across the casuals. "Forget the blue, wear the red, it's your best color, and you're gonna need that, Perez."
She closed the hatch on the robe-room and wandered over to the still-open balcony doors: At this hour, outside light came through the small diamond-cut windows at the tops and bottoms of the inward-opening doors. Outside, there was a flurry of activity: clerks streaming in to work on the main floor or the lower archive-levels; a long, skinny hover-tram, which brought workers from the mainland. Only three flitters rested on blocks at this hour: the one she thought was Khyriz's (it rested on the same blocks where he'd left his), a brightly colored one she recognized from planetary vid as a recent model, expensive and fully equipped. The last flitter had the practical look of a governmental vehicle, like those they'd seen in vid; it probably belonged to a master of clerks.
Wonder what they actually do, down there?
Was this where official laws were keyed into the new, planetwide computer system? Or where smaller proclamations--or even the menus for the new palace--were prepared?
Maybe she'd have the opportunity to find out after this afternoon's meeting with the Emperor. Clerks and other common workers put in what she thought of as Medici hours: early mornings, early evenings when the air was reasonably cool--a long, midday break for food and rest.
It might be good to talk to the clerks downstairs soon-- before she had the chance to get nervous about it. "Remember
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you convinced Dr. Rob,
and
Dr. Blanket said you were ready. Compared to them...." But some of these clerks might be doing work for her, personally.
If I
get into one of the libraries here on the island, and get access to some of the
old books that haven't been translated in at least a century....
Khyriz had teased her about all the ancient books stored here, the ones that were
original
hard copies of truly ancient works, the language scarcely known these days except for a very few words.
Like Latin, he said. He knows that I
taught myself Latin once I had a grasp of French and Italian.
It hadn't been easy at first, but it got easier, languages were like that. And here, she had the use of good computers.
Khyriz had said he'd get her access to the ancient volumes if she wanted it.
If
there's time...
She could imagine few things more exciting than translating a text from some lost aeon of Arekkhi history:
not merely some sermon by a
female-hating Huguenot.