It took him fourteen to reach the front desk. It was made of the same material as the floor and looked almost like it was carved from a single piece of stone, though nanomachine-catalyzed bonding was the more likely explanation for the lack of seams. Seated behind the chest-high structure were three green-skinned Isinari dressed in white Elthroa uniforms with flowery sky-blue cuffs. All three appeared to possess the gentle body curves and smooth facial bones of a human female, though he knew this to be an illusion. Isinari were hermaphrodites. To most humans they looked predominantly female—their bodies were evolved for childbearing as much as they were for other purposes—however, he had seen some very male looking Isinari in the past like the one his biological mother brought to her bed before she died. It was worth noting that Sophi chose a feminine face for her new company, and he wondered if she did so to make it clear a woman ran this barony or if there was some other reason. Some cultures considered females to be more welcoming than males, and she could be trying to preferentially court that type of business. The desk raised the receptionists up above him by virtue of its height. It was another design choice to have them up so high, and he wondered if this was Sophi's design or if the desk predated her ownership. Isinari were shorter than humans on average, and the added height the desk gave them put him somewhat off balance.
Another curiosity caught his eye. A logo resembling a pie graph with five equal sections pinned to the top of the receptionists’ breast pockets. Each segment had a symbol inscribed within. The letter “A,” the Cleebian symbol for order, and a figure resembling a hash glyph with a dot in the center were the only ones he could make out. The other two were completely unknown to him. One of the receptionists noted his stare. Niu had a moderate skull ridge, and green eyes a shade lighter than niur skin. Thick lips adorned niur face beneath a small, human-like nose, and the chambered bones of niur ears protruded on the sides of niur head in elegant, layered bulges.
“Baroness Cronus redesigned our logo from the Isinari glyph of service to one that included the first character of each of the five major writing systems in the Confederation in order to emphasize our clerical role.” The Isinari’s voice was on the low side of what he thought of as female. “You look—” the receptionist paused to glance down at the desk, “—pleased.”
“Puzzled,” a voice snapped from behind the large marble structure. Its tenor so resembled the cracking of a whip that Cylus jolted in place.
“Puzzled,” the receptionist said. “I apologize, sir. This is only my third day.”
“Don't. I'm here to meet—” he turned towards Ben.
“We are here to see Executive Assistant Clearach'Kul'tearae,” Ben finished for him.
The Isinari's mouth dropped open a centimeter. “Oh my ancestors! Are you Baron Keltan?”
“I am.”
The receptionist's eyes widened in a very human-like gesture of horror. “Oh, Baron, I am sorry for my rudeness. I didn't—”
“Did you query his implant for an identity?” The voice behind the desk preceded the appearance of another uniformed Isinari. This one had pearl-gray skin and a cranial ridge twice the size of the receptionist's with a dimple running through the peaks of its sierra. Niu also looked female, with a curving chest and curved hips, but niur shoulders were a little too broad to be called feminine. Niur eyes were black motes in blood red spheres, and niur high cheekbones bulged out beneath their lower lids. The alien features mixed with a human-like body made the Isinari look exotic, beautiful, and repulsive at the same time. Niur lean frame was nearly as tall as his, and niu carried niurself with a cocky poise that forced him to consciously stand his ground lest he shrink away from niur domineering presence.
“No, Haem, I forgot.” The receptionist bowed niur head.
The red-eyed Isinari looked at Cylus for a moment before returning niur gaze to the receptionist. “You are docked lunch today for carelessness.”
“Thank you, Haem Kul'tearae,” the receptionist said.
“Lunch?” he asked. It didn't seem a just punishment for a simple omission.
“Breaks are rewards for a job well-done, Baron Keltan. I could have docked nium a weekend instead, but niu is new here,” Clearach'Kul'tearae said in a firm voice.
“A weekend? That's definitely extreme.”
“In your culture, Baron Keltan, but not ours. We are proud of our ethics and our means of enforcing them. Although, it is your right as a baron to question and change rules you find not to your liking, I believe such rights are restricted to your own barony.”
“You are correct.” Cylus held niur gaze for a moment, feeling the heat of it on his face.
“Then I ask that you respect us in this place, Baron Keltan. Along those same lines, I ask that you substitute sir, ma'am, mister, miss, mix, and whatever other Solan titles exist with the Isinari version of 'Haem' where appropriate as a sign of respect.”
“All right.” He took a step back and blinked in surprise at niur aggression.
“Thank you for your compliance, Baron Keltan. Now, please, if you will follow me I shall take you to Baroness Cronus.”
The Isinari turned on niur heel and headed off around the large desk towards a bank of lifts at the center of the building. He and Ben followed. The lift doors had a gothic arch with glowing tick-marks across its peak to indicate the floors of the structure. He counted all eighty-two just to avoid eye-contact with Sophi's personal assistant and niur rough demeanor. He had no intention of giving nium further opportunity to belittle him.
The bruises on his ego faded as he watched the glowing LED slide from mark to mark over the arch. He started to wonder why this one had a different skin color than the other Isinari in the lobby, and why niur eyeballs were red instead of green. Cylus nearly asked twice before the lift arrived. The question halted on his lips each time for fear of reprisal, but when they entered the bullet-shaped car his curiosity was starting to edge out caution.
The lift broadcast its control panel into the implants of all its occupants, so he was able to watch Assistant Clearach'Kul'tearae look at the glowing button labeled “Baron's Office” a moment before it went from electric blue to vibrant green on the menu. The doors slid shut and he experienced the usual moment of disorientation as the car began a rapid acceleration up through the heart of the building. He cleared his throat, eager to ask his question. When that produced no results he decided on a second, safer plan and messaged Ben to ask it for him.
“Excuse me, Haem Kul'tearae,” Ben said in a mild-mannered tone.
Niu turned from the front of the car and set bloody eyes on them. Niu looked a bit confused for a moment until niu realized the speaker was Ben and not himself.
“Baron Keltan wishes to know—” Ben paused when he hit him on the arm. He gave his master a brief look, then continued. “—why it is that most Isinari he has seen have green skin, but you have gray skin.”
Clearach'Kul'tearae's thick lips puckered for a moment as though niu tasted something bitter before answering.
“Baron Keltan is unfamiliar with our reputation, I see.”
He coughed. “I'm sorry?”
“You haven't heard an Isinari be called a ‘gene thief’ before?” Assistant Kul'tearae’s voice took on an edge.
“No,” Cylus admitted.
“Isinari absorb the DNA from our environment and can copy certain genetic features into our genome. The process is non-specific, and we can only copy certain genes from certain types of DNA. We can't take traits we want consciously like the stories say, but sometimes we wind up with something particularly desirable. The absorption can occur from any source of levo-DNA we have prolonged contact with. That can mean the food we eat, or spending long periods of time in intimate contact with certain species such as your own, or the Relaen.”
He took a moment to digest the information. Clearach'Kul'tearae started to turn back towards the elevator doors when he spoke again.
“But why the green skin and eyes? And why are yours different?”
Haem Kul’Tearae sighed, turning back towards him.
“There are advantages to being photosynthetic, so many of my people eat plants with highly compatible DNA to obtain the trait. It comes in handy when one spends most of the day at work with little time to eat. It helps that we are ruminants, so we can stay in contact with food DNA for very long periods of time.”
“Ruminants?” he asked.
“Niu means Isinari have multi-chambered stomachs and—forgive me if I err—chew their cud,” Ben answered.
“The android is right,” niu said. “Our diets are primarily herbivorous, though some of us do eat meat. My eyes are a result of that. I have an unusually high amount of oxygen-carrying proteins in my system taken from the animals I consume. It gives my metabolism greater efficiency to carry out my duties. I don't spend enough time outside or under sun lamps to make photosynthesis a practical means of providing a productive boost. A baron's personal assistant tends not to have such luxuries. Baron Keltan, does that answer your questions?”
He thought about asking another question, one that Clearach'Kul'Tearae's comment about “intimate contact” had raised in the back of his brain. His biological mother, Drucilla Olivaar, died of an incurable, adaptive disease that she contracted from her illicit Isinari lover. Had that Isinari been using his mother for some genetic trait? He wanted to pick niur brain, but a brief floating sensation indicated they were at their floor as the lift slowed to a halt, and its doors slid open. Beyond was a wide, carpeted office with a panoramic view of the city through heavily polarized poly-glass. He could hear water gurgling, and the faint sound of an old-Earth symphony playing in the air. Their arrival at Sophi's office discouraged further discussion. He might have asked another question anyway, but Sophi stepped into view and gestured for them to exit the lift. Clearach'Kul'tearae nodded and strode out with him and Ben. After a quick bow to niur master, niu stepped aside and presented them.
Sophi regarded them with faded, ice-blue eyes. Her snowy hair hung past her waist in two thick braids resting on the open robe she wore over the company uniform. He could just see the symbol of her new barony peeking out from between each braid. Her milk-white skin was the same color as her robe, though marked with dark blue veins like rivers on a map. Cylus traced them down her face to the edge of her collar, drinking in her unique beauty with his eyes. It pained him that her plans to take down the most notorious and deadly baron in the history of the Confederation forced them apart. It hurt as much now as it had months ago when she proposed he betroth Pasqualina, and he felt a lump in his throat choke away the power of speech.
“Well, what do you think, Cy?” Sophi appeared unaware of how the sound of her voice was like a hot razor in his flesh. “Does my new barony suit me?”
Her pale hand swept about the space around her in a grand gesture. On the right a desk wide enough to support a king-sized mattress lived beside a reflecting pool four meters on edge. A fountain spurted water in the air at its center while fan-tailed fish with shifting rainbow scales swam about the pool’s white-pebble bottom. At the end of the pool closest to the pillar housing the lift was a life-sized statue of a heavily muscled Orgnan male with saber-teeth protruding from his snarling muzzle. The turnip-like abdomen typical of the species hung low between his high, wide hips. With thick arms he grasped an equally impressive, satyr-like Volgoth with crystal hooves, a broad face, and curling horns as they wrestled naked with snarling nostrils. Cylus was struck by the violence of the piece. The two figures, modeled in white and black stone, had gaping bite wounds and deep slashes in their flesh. Captivated, it took him a minute to notice that the statues weren't the only violent pieces of art in the floor-wide office.
At one end of the chamber a hologram depicted a Solan shell-trooper battling an armored Broghite warrior, and at another a clearly old and very expensive banner of woven cloth hung depicting Cleebian troops mowing down mobs of Achinoi rioters with automatic gauss rifles.
He made a grumbling sound of half-formed words, not believing that Sophi would decorate her office with such macabre artifacts.
“Don't you like it?” She moved to stand beside the horrible sculpture and placed her hand on the curving abdomen of the Orgnan.
He coughed several times before finding his voice. “It's not that. It's just so violent.”
A smile touched the corners of her lips as she stroked the muscular statue. “I decided on a theme of ‘terrible beauty.’ I wanted those invited into this office to feel like they were in the den of a predator. It looks like I succeeded. You're turning pale, but I thought you liked history. Each one of these battles really happened. The enslavement of the Volgoth, the war on Savorcha, the subjugation of the Achinoi, all were terrible conflicts but beautiful in their own way.”
He nodded. “You succeeded. I do feel like I’m in a predator’s lair.”
Sophi frowned and moved to stand within centimeters of him. The scent of her filled him like over-sweet candy as she leaned forward and put her head to his neck. He felt her lips touch its crook, pressing a gentle kiss there that raised goose bumps down to his toes.
“Oh, Cylus, you’ve been in your hiding place too long. Image is everything in our world. You’re not used to it, but don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” Her fingers glided up to his cheek and rested there. The gentle contact made his heart race, and for a moment it was like it had once been between them. After too short a moment she sighed and took a step back from him. “How is my sister?”
He gave her a sharp look, his reverie dissipating. The echo of their deception from the Queen Gaia flashed hot through his gut and added to the confusion her kiss inspired. Hadn’t she rejected him? Pushed him on another woman and lied to him about who that woman was? How dare she show him affection after that? What was she trying to do here?
“Pasqualina is fine. It's only been a day since you last saw her.”
“I'm being polite. Calm down.” Sophi rolled her eyes.
“You should’ve told me she is your sister before the cruise,” he muttered.
“You should grow up, Cylus.” She gave him a long, quiet look.
He glowered at her.
She rolled her eyes a second time. “Let's get down to business.”
“Fine,” he muttered.
“I called you up here to update you on what's going on. Haem Kul'tearae, fill him in on what we talked about.” Sophi moved around her massive desk and sat down behind it. She carefully spread her robe out over the armrests, looking up only after each was in its place.
“Baron,” Clearach'Kul'tearae drew his attention with niur voice. He'd almost forgotten niu was there.
“Haem Sophiathena Cronus instructed me to educate you on our company's recent informational debrief.”
“What?”
“We have discovered that Cosmos Corporation is quietly scouting locations for new offices around the Confederation. The scale of their operation is unusual, and we recently learned that every planet they are opening a new office on is a planet with a Cephalon Sphere on the fringe of its star system.” Haem Kul’tearae paused, allowing him to digest the information.
The mention of Cephalon Spheres made him shudder.
“Cosmos Corporation announced a new division this morning. They are dubbing it ‘Fast-Mercury.’ It will be overseeing the construction and operation of Cosmos Corp's new FTL communications network. The press release promises high bandwidth and interstellar communications in minutes, but was not more specific than that.”
“An Elthroa member at Vargas Innovations noted a large order of robot CPU housings cross niur desk.” Sophi leaned back in her chair.
“Wait, Vargas? The religious nut?” Cylus and the rest of the Barony knew the name well. Baron Vargas discovered “the truth of the universe” decades ago and converted to Daewanism, becoming the first Baron-Scion in Confederate history. That made the largely areligious Solan barons quite nervous. Temple power usually had a chilling effect on unfettered commerce and
interfered in politics. Vargas’ barony, which produced a variety of middle-quality robotics and miscellaneous communications equipment, lost value after the conversion.
“You look shocked,” Sophi said.
“I am. Vargas? I never would have guessed Zalor even knew his name.”
“Father can't exactly go to Intelligent Systems or a Cleebian barony for sensitive equipment. He may have won the political battle, but those avenues shut forever when Yoji died. Hephestia will not sell to him, and despite their apparent support for him now, the Cleebians are notorious for ‘balancing the scales’ as they call it. Father really has no choice but to use secondary producers. I suspect his plan is to eventually acquire Vargas’ barony.”
Haem Kul'Tearae picked up the conversation. “We intend to have an Elthroa Staffing member at each of Baron Revenant's new offices.”
“Won't he see that coming?” Cylus asked.
“I’m sure father has thought about it. Elthroa has a sterling reputation for being an impartial and discreet agency. It's had to in order to become the Spur's leading staffing agency. My predecessors were meticulous in maintaining confidentiality. They sold no information and always destroyed records after three standard years.”
“Let me guess, that's about to change.”
“It got them this far, but I have a different vision for Elthroa. You gave me a gold mine, and I intend to harvest its bounty. Information is more valuable than neutronium, and Elthroa has fingers in everyone's pot. You've put me in an ideal position for gaining what we want.” Sophi's eyes glowed.
He felt his stomach twitch. He didn’t buy Elthroa for Sophi to turn it into an industrial espionage agency. The point was to make her a baroness so they could join the Mercantile Party, blend in, and take Zalor Revenant down. True, she could keep closer tabs on Zalor by surrounding him with her agents, but what she was talking about went beyond that. She sounded like she was going to spy on everyone, friend and enemy alike.
Keltan's Gambit: Chronicles of the Orion Spur Book 2 Page 7
