32

From the first open elevator marched four ranks of Iteeche. Each carried a mean-looking rifle at port arms. At the end of the long barrel was a half meter long, wicked looking blade.

BAYONETS, Nelly provided.

I KNOW WHAT A BAYONET IS, NELLY. TELL ME ABOUT THE UNIFORMS. WHAT DO THEY MEAN?

The row on row of marching Iteeche wore dark green pants and midnight-black jackets. On their heads were tall bronze helmets. Another two feet or more was added to their seven-foot height by the helmet and feathers or hair rising up from it.

OTHER THAN THAT, THEY LOOK TO BE MEAN DUDES. I HAVE NOTHING TO ADD.

They marched across the pier, and under commands barked by a fellow welding one huge scimitar, wheeled to form two lines facing the Marines at the brow.

Kris had to give credit to the Marines on the pier. They didn’t so much as flinch.

Now the two lines of troops faced away from each other and marched twenty paces, opening a large hole in the middle of their ranks. Halting, upon a barked order, they turned smartly to face Kris. She evaluated the situation and assumed these two lines would form the flanks for something yet to come.

Right on that conclusion, the next elevator door opened.

Iteeche dark as night marched forth; over their right shoulders were long poles with gleaming axe blades on one side, hooked blades on the other. They numbered ten strong and marched forward in pairs. When they reached the point where the first ranks had split, they took two steps more, then pivoted away from each other and marched down the line of Green and Blacks before coming to a stop.

With a low shout, they faced towards the battlecruiser. With a second shout, they drove the butt of their weapons down hard on the deck.

NELLY, YOU WANT TO TELL ME ANYTHING ABOUT THESE GUYS?

RON HAD TWO LIKE THEM WHEN HE FIRST CAME ABOARD THE WASP. IN FACT, I THINK THE ONE AT THE END OF EACH LINE MIGHT BE THE SAME ITEECHE. AT LEAST THE MASS OF STREAMERS APPEAR TO BE THE SAME. THE INNER EIGHT LOOK JUST LIKE THEM, BUT THEY SEEM TO HAVE EVEN MORE STREAMERS. I THINK THERE ARE TWO, MAYBE THREE ROWS OF RIBBONS. CAN YOU SEE THAT, KRIS?

Kris could.

IT’S HARD TO TELL MUCH ABOUT THE STREAMERS WITH THEM FALLING ALL IN A MASS TOGETHER, BUT I THINK SOME OF THEM ON RON’S MAY BE SIMILAR TO THOSE ON THE NEW GUYS. I’M JUST GUESSING, THOUGH. THERE’S NOT A LOT TO GO ON.

GUESSES ARE ACCEPTABLE FOR NOW, NELLY.

Behind Kris, Marines marched at a measured tread. Out of the corner of her eye, Kris caught three ranks of Marines march, rifles at port arms, to fill the length of the quarterdeck on both sides of her, backing her up. In place, they did a smart left or right face and presented an alert presence to the pier.

THANK YOU, JACK.

I THOUGHT THIS MIGHT TURN INTO A URINARY OLYMPIC. I HAD A FULL PLATOON STANDING BY.

GOOD.

Now the third elevator door opened. This time, Kris was not surprised. Dressed all in blood red, row upon row of Iteeche marched forth to form ranks behind the initial group of black and greens. The weapons they held at port arms were even nastier looking. Half ended in the long bayonet. The other half had an under tube that likely shot grenades. The Iteeche Marines had arrived and they were armed for the kill.

Hopefully, not today, Kris thought.

Once the final order was shouted, the Iteeche ranks fell silent.

A fourth elevator opened. The small mob that strolled forth could not have been more different from the earlier arrivals. Here were old men in green and white robes: some more green, others were more white. Surrounding them were smaller Iteeche in tiny loincloths of bright colors. Their ivory skin showed swirling tattoos. Kris could not make sense of the artwork. Were they fish? Birds? Flowers? Writing?

Some kept well back and fanned the air. Others held braziers that burned some sort of incense. The smoke quickly filled the pier.

It took a moment for Kris to get a whiff of what was burning; then she had to fight to hold back a cough. Her eyes did water.

WHOSE IDEA IS THAT?

YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE.

NELLY, UP THE BLOWERS. KEEP THAT CRAP ON THEIR SIDE OF THE PIER.

YES, KRIS, AND WHEN THEY BRING IT ABOARD?

I’LL BLOW THAT BRIDGE WHEN I COME TO IT. RON NEVER USED ANYTHING LIKE THAT.

For a moment, Kris mused on the developments.

JACK, IS OUR QUARTERDECK STARTING TO LOOK DOWNRIGHT SHABBY?

I STRONGLY SUSPECT THOSE SNOBS ARE LOOKING DOWN THEIR BEAKS AT OUR SPARTAN QUARTERS.

NELLY, IF YOU WILL, DIG THROUGH YOUR RECORDS FOR SOME DESPOTIC OPULENCE AND LAY IT ON WITH A FRONT LOADER AND BACKHOE.

OH, I WAS HOPING YOU’D WANT ME TO, Nelly said, and the Princess Royal’s quarterdeck began to change around them.

It started at the foot of the brow. The gangway was wide enough for Sailors to walk two abreast, both coming and going. It also matched a station truck’s breadth.

Now it tripled in width. But Nelly didn’t just triple it in one blink. No. Starting at the pier and flowing smoothly toward the ship, the gangway not only widened, but transformed before their watching eyes. Where the black of gritty tread paths had been, now were silver cobbles, scoured with swirls that gleamed in the light. The handrail of Navy spartan was now beaten gold, with huge diamonds sparkling in more soft colors than Kris thought carbon could be tinted with.

Then the flow of change swept up to Kris and past her. Bland, Navy gray bulkheads transformed into thick brocade curtains, a soft sea green that rippled in a breeze that Kris could not feel. She allowed herself a slow turn of her head to take this all in and was greeted by the sight of banners cascading from the overhead.

Pride of place was a scarlet banner with two rampant lions on it in gold, a blazing sun between them and over a hundred and seventy suns in a triple circle around them. King Ray’s official seal. Next to it waved a green and black banner displaying in silver the new seal that Vicky had adopted for her part of her family’s Empire.

Beside those two were more banners, likely representing the alliances of the ambassadors Kris had welcomed aboard. Behind them were row upon row of other banners, likely enough to represent every planet in human space. They all waved and twisted in the nonexistent breeze.

Or tide?

NELLY, YOU’VE CREATED A FOREST OF SEAWEED.

NEAT, ISN’T IT, KRIS? BANNERS ARE OLD EARTH, BUT I CAME UP WITH THE IDEA OF MAKING THEM LOOK LIKE SEA VEGETATION. WITH ANY LUCK, IT WILL MAKE OUR ITEECHE FRIENDS FEEL SAFE, WHAT WITH SOMEPLACE TO HIDE JUST A FEW SWIM STROKES AWAY.

OR SOMEWHERE TO ATTACK THEM FROM, Jack added in.

SHOULD I CHANGE IT?

NO, NELLY, IT LOOKS GORGEOUS. BESIDES, WE DON’T WANT TO LOOK INDECISIVE BEFORE OUR GUESTS.

And more guests were arriving.

About that time those from the fourth elevator had finished arranging themselves in the space between the two files of Soldiers and Marines. In the apparent chaos, there must have been some sort of ranking, but it evaded both Kris and Nelly.

Their attention, however, was now drawn to the fifth elevator. Its doors opened to disgorge another mob. These were dressed all in white or all in green. Previously, Kris had only seen the two colors blended together, their wearers functioning as advisors to Ron. Exactly what the two separately meant was a puzzle Kris hoped she’d solve before it cost someone their life.

Orbiting around these taller and much older Iteeche were another collection of smaller hangers-on. These bore no clothes at all. Physically, they appeared identical, though half were tattooed in bright colors and the other half in somber blacks and grays. If the two Iteeche sexes were represented, Kris could not tell.

She had once silently observed Ron swimming naked in the moonlight. His body had appeared sleek and smooth, no nipples, no visible genitals. Once again, Kris was presented with the evidence of a race that produced by eggs and sperms dispersed into the sea to spawn fingerlings that had to survive on their own from the moment they broke free from the egg sack.

There’s a whole ton of psychology and sociology lurking behind that, Kris reminded herself.

Several of these nudes bore wings on their backs that quickly proved to be water fountains. The trickle and gurgle of water now filled the air, as did mist as the fountains sent water spraying into the air.

NELLY, TAKE THE BLOWERS BACK TO NORMAL, Kris ordered, wondering what the air out on the pier must smell like and wanting to get a taste of it before this mob came aboard her ship.

What Kris found herself breathing did still have overtones of the incense the first group was burning, but now it was overpowered by the salty tang of ocean spray. Combined, it wasn’t so bad.

Now this group melded with the first and Kris began to see a pattern. The central space between the men-at-arms now was divided down the middle, white and green with an open aisle between them. Those wearing green and white mixed stood outboard of them, those with more green than white near the greens, those with more white stood beside those wearing white. The thin line of Iteeche at the cusp beside the military appeared to be younger and wore a pretty balanced mix of the two colors.

DO YOU THINK ONE GROUP ARE SPIRITUAL ADVISORS AND THE OTHER SECULAR? Jack asked on net.

THE EMPEROR IS WORSHIPFUL, Kris agreed.

BUT I HAVE NO EVIDENCE THAT THEY HAVE ANY KIND OF DIETY. I’VE IDENTIFIED SOMETHING LIKE ANCESTOR WORSHIP, BUT NOTHING MORE, Nelly put in.

SO, NELLY, NO JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS.

I WOULD STRONGLY SUGGEST THAT YOU DON’T.

Now, the sixth elevator door slowly swung open.