Hardly more than a crack had appeared when there was a blare of trumpets, a clash of cymbals and a roll of many different drums. To Kris’s ear, there was only discord, but before her, the Iteeche Soldiers and Marines seemed to brace stiffer still, and the chatter among the green and whites evaporated.
As soon as the doors opened fully, this band marched forth. Their uniforms were a wild mixture of greys and browns, yellows and blues. If there was any significance to the hues and how they were displayed, again, Kris was left realizing just how alien the Iteeche were to human kin.
After the band had taken station along the far wall, blocking access to the other elevators, a small procession came forth. These five Iteeche wore a single-piece red robe that dragged the floor and rose to a peak a half meter above their heads. There were slits in it for them to see out, but no other opening except for their hands. To their breasts they hugged crystal clear orbs with golden lids. But it was what was inside the bowls that took Kris’s breath way.
There were snakes in the Iteeche’s evolutionary tree. At least, the many striped things that wiggled inside the bowls had no legs. They could coil themselves up, and as Kris watched, several did. Then they rose up, flared the hood behind their heads, opened their mouths and hissed through a mouth dominated by four long fangs.
I’D CALL THEM COBRAS IF THEY WERE FROM OLD EARTH, KRIS.
I’VE HEARD RON TALK ABOUT MAKING A SOLEMN APOLOGY TO THE EMPEROR BY DRINKING POISON, BUT MAYBE WE DIDN’T GET THE CONTEXT RIGHT, Kris said. NELLY, REVIEW OUR UNDERSTANDING OF THESE CONVERSATIONS AND GET BACK TO ME LATER.
WILL DO, KRIS.
Those who bore the crystal globes kind of slithered down the open aisle. As they passed them, the green and whites seemed to lean ever so slightly away from them. As they passed the front line of poleax carriers, they turned, two one way, three the other, and moved to stand evenly spaced before the axe men.
OPINION, NELLY.
THE RIFLES ARE THE MODERN REPRESENTATIVES OF AUTHORITY. THE SNAKES AND AXES ARE THE OLD SYMBOLS OF THE SAME. YOU PISS ME OFF IMPERIALLY, CIVILLY, OR CRIMINALLY, AND I’LL SEND ONE OF THESE TWO TO VISIT YOU.
JACK?
A GOOD WORKING HYPOTHESIS UNTIL PROVEN OTHERWISE. STILL, AS JUDGE DIANA WOULD TELL YOU, “WE HAVE INSUFFICIENT INFORMATION TO FORM AN OPINION.”
AND YES, JACK, I’M GLAD WE DON’T HAVE THEM ALONG THIS TRIP. I DO LOVE JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS.
YES, KRIS, BUT REMEMBER, SOMETIMES A SNAKE IS JUST A SNAKE AND AN AXE IS JUST AN AXE.
THANK YOU, NELLY.
The cymbals crashed, the horns began to blow and the drums went deadly quiet. Kris’s attention returned front and center.
There, two dozen Iteeche stepped forth, a palanquin born high above their shoulders by three poles. Again, the Iteeche bearers wore nothing; the alabaster skin over their bulging muscles was highlighted by tattoos of aquamarine and magenta, amber and turquoise . . . shot through with bold slashes of red and black.
RACING STRIPES, ANYONE? Nelly put in.
The enclosure they bore was a work of art in wood and wicker, lacquer and cloth. Portions were dominated by finely worked gold filigree, other sections were covered with delicate pictures of what Kris took for sea scenes or Iteeche bowing to chairs like this one.
Which is exactly what happened as the palanquin carriers stepped onto the pier. The less dressed and naked fell to their hands and knees and bowed their heads to the ground. Those with braziers of incense set them before them as did those with the water fountains. Apparently, all that noise making had put them on warning because the entire exercise was carried out with the fluid grace of a wave washing toward the shore. Those with the fans went down as well, but kept the fans moving with the right or left pair of their arms.
Following behind the palanquin were four Iteeche, apparently from the same rental agency based on their tattoo jobs. They supported an ornate sedan chair between them. A curtain shielded its occupant from the attention of those around him. On an order from within, the attendants carefully lowered the sedan chair, and while three went to the full head, hands and knees drill, the fourth obsequiously pulled the curtain aside.
Ron stepped out in full regal raiment. As Kris had seen him when first they met, his clothing shone in the light and turned every shade under the rainbow as he stood.
YOU HAVE GOT TO GET YOURSELF A DRESS MADE OUT OF THAT STUFF, JACK PUT IN.
NELLY, MAKE A NOTE. IN MY VAST SPARE TIME, I’M TO FIGURE OUT THE INS AND OUTS OF ITEECHE COMMERSE, DRESSMAKING, AND WHATEVER, AND GET ME A DRESS MADE OF THAT STUFF.
YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE MEAN TO JACK. I THINK YOU’D LOOK GREAT IN SUCH A DRESS. UNLESS YOU WANT ME TO MAKE YOU UP SOME TEMPORARY TATOOS SO YOU CAN DANCE UP THE MOON FOR THE IMPERIAL COURT.
I WAS A LOT YOUNGER THEN, Kris growled.
BUT JUST AS LOVELY, Jack added quickly.
ENOUGH. BACK TO BUSINESS.
And business was finally developing. Ron, or more correctly at the moment, Ron’sum’Pin’sum’We qu Cap’sum’We barked an order and those carrying the palanquin carefully lowered it to the deck, then assumed the head down bow, though they pulled their legs up under themselves to take up less room. Ron stepped through them to climb a set of stairs to the ornate gazebo they carried. He unlatched the door and offered a hand inside to help its occupant out.
And the big Kahuna himself stepped forth.
He was shorter than Ron, possibly the result of a gentle stoop to his shoulders, but it was hard to tell. He wore an elaborate headdress of gold, silver, and jewels. He appeared paler than any Iteeche there, but unlike the others, there were wrinkles around his eyes and beak.
Like Ron, his clothing was made of the cloth that shimmered and changed color, either in the light or as he moved. Each of his four legs was draped in loose fitting folds that might be trousers or maybe a single skirt. The cloth of his sleeves swept all the way to the ground. Gold filigree at the wrists encouraged them to drag the floor as he walked.
As Ron’s chooser shook out his garments, Kris realized she had a small diplomatic crisis on her hands. So far, everyone had come to her. Of course, they were all ambassadorial in rank and she was the full emissary for King Ray.
Also, she had the free booze.
But what about this? Should she wait for the Imperial advisor to come to her or had she better take the extra step? Out there, his guards surrounded him. Should she really expect that he had brought all this artillery to her door step to then leave them behind and cross her brow on his own?
The longer Ron and his chooser took their own sweet time to shake out his robes, the bigger the question of what happens next grew.
NELLY, GET ME RON ON NET.
KRIS, HE IS OFF NET.
OFF NET!
NODE NOT ACTIVE.
You son of a squid, Kris thought and did her best to suppress a scowl. Neat way to avoid negotiations, don’t mention it ahead of time and be unavailable when the fat hits the fire.
JACK, WITH ME.
With Jack at her elbow, she slow-marched down the ornate brow, through the axe men and snake tenders, and by the armed honor guard and hangers-on. With Jack threading his way one row over from her, she walked down a row of kowtowing palanquin carriers to stand behind Ron’s chooser.
Only when she was there did Ron make to clear his throat, and lift a hand to point to where Kris waited.
The old Iteeche turned and Kris looked into eyes that had grown old but were still alert, if weary. For a moment, Kris wondered what he’d been like when he and her much younger great-grandfather had met to seek an end to the endless bloodshed and destruction of the Iteeche War. Those standing among her know it as the Human War.
Ron began to speak, and Kris paid close attention to the translation.
“My celebrated chooser, it is my joyful responsibility to introduce to you Grand Admiral, Her Royal Highness Kristine Longknife of the United Society, Chosen Royal Battle Fleet Commander of the mighty war clan Longknife, Hammerer of Barbarians from Without the Empire and Emissary and Speaker for Humanity to Our Worshipful Emperor.”
Kris saluted. She’d made up her mind that her king would bow to no one. She was King Ray in the flesh. She did not bow.
The old Iteeche showed no reaction.
Ron went on. “Know you, Grand Admiral and Princess Kristine, you stand in the glorious presence and I have the great honor of presenting you to Roth’sum’We’sum’Quin Chap’sum’We, First Chooser of that sib who stands as Second Advisor to His Worshipfulness in All Things Wise and Desirable and stands as First Advisor to His Worshipfulness in affairs concerning the dark matters taking place outside the Realm of Light that our Worshipful Emperor smiles upon. He is rightly charged with Defense of the Realm and possesses the worshipful Emperor’s full power to mete out High Justice. The Worshipful One bids all to stand in awe of him as they would of Himself.”
RON’S BACK ON NET AND HE TELLS ME ROTH HAS AGREED TO CUT IT SHORT OR WE’D BE HERE ALL NIGHT.
TELL RON I’M GLAD HE’S BACK ON NET.
I DIDN’T.
VERY DIPLOMATIC CALL.
Kris lowered her salute and cautiously offered her hand. When the Iteeche grand honcho failed to reach for it, she dropped the effort.
“May I welcome you to my simple command ship. Since it was built to hammer those that lurk beyond the Realm of Light, it is but a simple warship,” Kris said, hoping a little humility wouldn’t be mistaken for weakness. Not when she tossed “hammer” in there right away.
The old Iteeche began to walk toward the gangplank, with Kris on his left hand, Ron on his right. He did not even spare a glance at the circus that knelt silently around him.
Instead, he spoke to Kris. “My worthy chosen one has told me how you met resistance during your placid voyage to the Worshipful One’s Radiant Presence.”
“Yes, we did run into ships that did not seem to sail the way some would wish,” Kris said, showing she could be just as evasive as the best diplomat.
“I am told that you evaded the problem without harm to any of your ships.”
“Yes,” Kris agreed. “My brief had not extended to such matters within the peace of an Empire of Harmony. I chose not to chastise them, but sent them on their way unenlightened.”
“Hopefully, you will not always be so gentle with those who have left the path of the righteous.”
“Hopefully, in the future, I will know more about what I am sailing into and what is expected of me when I get there.”
Roth took two more steps toward the Princess Royal, then paused to turn to Kris. Behind him, she could see one axe man and one of the snake carriers march toward her.
Then he hacked out a noise that brought THAT’S A LAUGH, from Nelly. He clapped her on the shoulder. “You are so much like your twice-removed chooser. His sperm runs strong along your backbone. My chosen warned me that I might face as much roiled water as I had in my youth. It will be good to swim among those likes again. Come, show me what you have prepared for me.”