Voices of Chaos (31 page)

"I am here, Alexis," he said. For a moment, he couldn't think of anything to say. A dark-clad, masked figure moved partway into sight behind her and was pulled sharply away. "You appear well."

"I could use some sleep," Alexis replied dryly. "I'm glad to see you safe, my friend. What about the third floor?''

"Undamaged. Is Magdalena--?"

"I--I'm all right, Khyriz!" Magdalena's voice was higher than normal, her hair pulled back in a twist of fabric; she still wore T-shirt and blue jeans, and her feet were bare. A thin line of dried blood ran down her neck and made a small dark spot on the shirt. "I'm fine. And I'm sorry--"

"No," he broke in, afraid of what she might say. "The sorrow is mine that there was misunderstanding. You are my good friend, Magdalena."

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She smiled tiredly, but her eyes were warm, searching the image of his face.

Behind her, a deep male voice snarled out something, but the voice was warped by a distort screen.
So we cannot understand their words, or identify
them by voice-print,
he realized. Alexis touched Magdalena's shoulder and murmured something against her ear. The dancer nodded, then added aloud, "They say we've had more than our allotted time. My good friend.

My..." she shifted into English,
"air venting system.''

Angry shouts from three separate directions at once. The translator huddled away from them, but Alexis eased onto her knees and put herself between her companion and the far side of the talking-pit. "It means 'special friend' in our language!" she shouted back. "Ask her or ask the Prince!"

Khyriz gestured assent. "She speaks truth," he added urgently. "It is the first alien speech I learned!" Mumbling in the background, warped by distort.

Magdalena swallowed and licked her lips; her eyes were enormous.

"Apologies, Khyriz," she said finally. "I didn't mean to frighten you; I forgot they told us, no alien words--"

"Between you and me, they are not alien, Magdalena," Khyriz assured her, bringing a faint smile to her face again. Before he could say anything else, the transmission ended, and the vid-screen went dark.

Silence in the Council chamber. Khyriz stepped back as his father stood; two councillors, on their feet to see the vid-transmission, immediately sat. All of them, the Prince noticed, were doing their best not to stare at his alien clothing. The Emperor paid no attention. "What was the meaning of those words--?" Khezahn began; Khyriz gestured an urgent negative.

"Father, if I might speak to you in private?" He flicked an ear and addressed the restless elders seated behind the long table. "Apologies. A matter that..."

He couldn't think of a diplomatic way to phrase it; to his surprise, his father emitted a short, low spat of laughter.

"My allies in Council know that a secret is best kept by one, and safer between two than shared by all. Wait," he instructed, then pressed through the drape and keyed the narrow

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door behind it. Khyriz found himself for the first time inside the barren servants' station kept for Council messengers. Three practical seats and a low bench with a notemaker and sheets of paper--nothing else, not even a window. Khyriz automatically glanced at his nail-patch.

Khezahn touched his arm. "This room is safe: It is distort-sealed, and the distort is tested daily. What was that between you and the Magdalena?"

"The words were English." He explained. "I believe she means the apartments were entered via the duct system. But there is more." He spoke quickly, laying out his argument with Khedan. "If Zhenu is behind this Protective League ... ! But Father, I believe Khedan spies for the Prelate."

"Of course he does," the elder replied. Khyriz's whiskers twitched in astonishment. "I often tell him things I know will be passed on to Nijho, to be certain it
is
Khedan. This of Zhenu: I suspected it, but there is no proof. Still, if the women can be freed--"

"Apologies, Father--but Zhenu will not free them unless he is certain they will leave Arekkhi. Alexis does not sound ready to take that course of action.

Has there been any change in the position of this League?"

"They still take no position. They hold the women and make threats. We counter with threats. They cannot leave, however--"

"Father--apologies, but they can. If Magdalena is right about the air passages, they must have entered the building from underground. There are at least ten ways out that I know: the Prelatry, the library, the old kitchens that now house Mother's enameler and her staff..." His voice faded.

"Yes." Unusual for him, Khezahn prowled the small room. "So. The station has full tracking-vid trained on the island, but that will be of no use if they use the old tunnels. If Zhenu is behind this, then Nijho is without doubt his ally. If the women are taken into the Prelatry, things will be much worse; there are other ways out of the Prelatry you do not know, Khyriz. Ways not even marked on the official grid."

"I know more of them than you might think, Father."

"Yes. I remember the small youth who explored the old

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palace." He was silent for a long moment, then gazed into his son's eyes.

"When we go back in there, the Council will not be surprised to see you are distressed. You will excuse yourself to your quarters, and go there at once.

Old Nhedro will carry food to your room at the proper intervals. You can trust him. If--you have other needs, Nhedro will bring those who can best assist you."

He means for me to go--he gives me permission to take his guards and steal
into the old palace!
Khyriz swallowed, gestured understanding. "Yes. Bhelan will arrive with my flitter soon."

"Leave word with the clerk outside the council doors where Bhelan will find you."

"Yes, Father."

"We will speak again very soon."

"Yes." He hadn't expected this; it was all he could do to keep elation out of his voice, and to remember to flatten his ears in distressed fashion as his father keyed the door open.

An hour later, the excitement was long gone. The permission to act was nothing; he'd have gone anyway. Now, he had to plan in detail. Fortunately, Bhelan had arrived just as he was keying the rooms' com-system. He sent the pilot out for his protected com and the portable flat comp he'd purchased on StarBridge: The portable unit would shield the in-room system from tapping, so he could access the island grid and make certain of the underground passages. It had been too many years since he'd last used them. He had barely finished explaining what he intended when Nhedro came in the servants' back door with a large basket of bread, meat, and dipping sauces, another basket holding a variety of beverages and cups, and at his heels, the guard Jhue and his equally enormous brother, Jhoric.

Both wore synth-plas torso armor and were armed with small multifire stunners. Jhoric carried a box that held another ten such weapons. Jhue, to Khyriz's astonishment, openly wore a talon. Bhelan's whiskers went flat and he turned away; he'd seen the wicked metal claw as well.

Khyriz gestured, taking in the food Nhedro had set out. "Eat," he said as he turned back to the comp and keyed the

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final command to bring up the grid, then went down through it, level by level, until he reached subground. "Nedhro, pour me cold juice--whatever you have. Plain meat strips folded into a flat bread, and a small dish of hot
pjor
for dipping. This side, please," he gestured with his free hand; the other was busily moving across the flat surface of his portable comp: He was aware of the two guards and his pilot, watching the room's wall-screen as he narrowed the search area and amplified. Finally he sat back, felt blindly for food, eyes still studying the screen. Nhedro turned his hand right-side up, set the bread there, and folded his fingers around it.

Khyriz finally stepped back from the screen, ate quickly, and washed down untasted food with a tart drink. He sent an occasional look toward the guards and suddenly felt very young.
Remember your words to the Emperor. You
alone are so familiar with the old palace, and the connecting tunnels.
If this went as he planned, there would be no fighting. Finally he gestured, a greeting that meant,' I welcome those who have greater talents than mine."

"Were you told why my father asked you to come here?" he asked aloud.

The two signed a terse negative. Khyriz explained, as briefly as possible.

When he was done, the two exchanged a look, then gestured an even more terse assent.
I can-not begin to decipher what they think... of this and of me,
he decided finally. It didn't matter; they would cooperate.

"I go as well," Bhelan said evenly.

"Yes. Have you light-sticks?" His whiskers quirked forward, and briefly, so did the pilot's: It was an old joke between them, how many portable lights Bhelan kept on his person and in the flitter, in case of late-night emergencies of any kind. "Good. Sort out one apiece for us. While you do that, I still must find the best way from these rooms and into the passage that leads to vehicle repairs."

"There I can assist," Nhedro put in softly. "One goes as I came in, and then--"

"Will you show us now?" Khyriz broke in. "You need go only so far as that."

"An honor, Prince," the elderly servant said, even more softly, and left the remains of the .impromptu meal.

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***

The servants' hall leading from the back of a closet in Khyriz's old washing room went straight for some distance, then jogged back and forth, plain doors on either side marking the service entries to other such chambers. The Empress's ducat graced the last of these; four steps later, the passage plunged down a steep ramp, and the air grew heavy with the smell of baking bread. As warmth from the ovens became uncomfortable, however, the elderly servant turned into a side passage. This was ill lit, the floor plain long tiles, the walls unpainted in some time. He could see and smell mold.

Nhedro slowed, beckoned the Prince forward, and spoke in a breathy whisper close to his ear. "Go here, a hundred paces or so; there are five passages branching off. Take the second left. It will branch again, two passages only; again take the left. That will bring you into the vehicle-repair.

You can find your way from there?''

"Yes," Khyriz whispered back. "If you are alone in his personal dressing with my father--but in no other place!--tell him only this: 'It goes well.' "
So far,
he thought, but did not add aloud. The old one gestured a bow of deep respect, turned, and left them. Khyriz gestured his three companions on and began counting.

A short time later they reached the repair center: It was dark, the air close and fragrant with the odor of old-style fuel, of the oils used to keep machinery meshing smoothly, of paint and the enamel-baking units along the far wall.

Bhelan led here, a dimmed light-stick in each hand; the other came close behind him. Once beyond the chamber, Khyriz again took the lead. From this point he knew where he was, and how to reach his goal. Another five-branch; this time he took the fifth arm right, and fewer than fifty paces on came to an area surprisingly well tended--last time he'd come here it hadn't been. He retreated into the older tunnel and gestured for his companions to come close.

"That--where we go--is used," he whispered. "Can you see it? The tiles are swept, the lights all operate, the walls are clean." He checked the nail-device, held it where Jhue and his brother could see it. ''This is alien, their latest tech. There are no spy-devices in this tunnel--those who use it do not expect

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outsiders here, perhaps. Walk with care. If anyone comes, one shout of warning is our undoing. And that of the CLS team." He gestured as they came back into the tunnel, which had once served the Empress and female royalty when they traveled from palace to worship-chambers. But when he would have led the way, Jhue touched his arm and immediately gestured contrition for the contact.

"Apologies, Prince," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "You have proven your right to be part of the rescue. But now, let us lead; this is what we are trained to do."

He was right, Khyriz knew; he stepped aside to let one royal guard move ahead of him; his brother took up the rear. A moment later, a flush of pleasure curved the Prince's whiskers.
Proven my right--and to Jhue!
But none of that counted--not until Magdalena and Alexis were safe.

There was another short pause directly beneath the old palace: The guards were out of breath; Bhelan needed to change light-sticks, and to take two stun-weapons from the box Jhoric had carried. And Khyriz needed to think where the closest hatch into the air-venting system was. Once he oriented himself, he accepted a pair of the stunners and again took the lead.

The hatch had been greased so it would make no sound when opened; the interior--synth-plas lining an older metal system--had been matted in places, lengths of woven reed to ease the discomfort of those who crawled through here. After a brief argument, Jhue again took the lead, Khyriz next with Bhelan right behind him, Jhoric, six spare stunners fastened to his shoulders and back, bringing up the rear.

Crawling is not a comfortable mode of travel,
Khyriz thought gloomily.

Arekkhi leg-joints did not have the shield of bone like human knees, and Arekkhi forearms were more tendon, bone, and nerves than muscle. It seemed to take forever, moving slowly on his belly, edging his way up a steep incline toward the servants' corner of the second-floor apartments.

Silence everywhere, except for an occasional scrabble on Jhue's part or his own, and once the sharp click of a light-stick against synth-plas. Jhue paused at that, listening intently, then finally moved on. A few breaths later he stopped and

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twisted so he could look back, then gestured upward with his light-stick. The repairs-hatch into the second floor was directly above them.

For some reason, it was difficult to move. Jhue, massive as he was, needed three attempts before the thing eased offside, leaving a dimly lit five-sided opening directly above him. Khyriz's nose sensed something unpleasant up there; the set of the guard's whiskers didn't help. Jhue pulled himself into the room above with one swift motion, then reached down to assist Khyriz, and after him, Bhelan.