That hadn’t impaired their fertility at all. Children were usually raised by crèche professionals, paid by the parents equally. As far as Krinata knew, they were the only species to adopt such an arrangement without producing a generation of juvenile delinquents.
Delving now into material new to her, Krinata discovered that the Ensyvians, the religious Lehiroh who had settled Ra-zum. claimed a direct revelation from Eternal and Infinite God proscribing such behavior. And alone among Lehiroh cultures, the Ensyvians still practiced not only marriage but sexual exclusivity in marriage. Not monogamy but a polyandry of exactly four males to each female.
Monogamy was a perverted concept to the Ensyvians, who claimed that psychological stability could be achieved only by the group of five, and such stability was the absolute prerequisite to raising healthy children.
Biologically, it worked well, for the short pregnancy and birth were hardly debilitating to the Lehiroh female, and she could present a child once a year and still hold a job. Practically, though, the norm was for two of the husbands to be tied down with an infant while the wife and other two husbands worked to support the unit. Families tended to form multi-generation pyramids, and as a result the small Lehiroh population of Razum Two controlled more than seventy percent of the wealth.
They often bragged that the incidence of stress diseases was phenomenally lower among the devout Ensyvians, but that statistic was blurred by the large and growing number of very nondevout members of the sect. However, the last thing the drifters seemed to surrender was their marriage practice.
She asked Jindigar about his four friends.
“You’re right, Krinata, they’re not at all devout practitioners. But I understand this marriage is very important to them. The four of them have been together for a long time, and I know they’ve felt the lack of a female. But they’d pledged to marry the same woman. Only now have they found someone who pleases them all and will accept them. I just hope life will go well for them. They deserve it.”
“You’ve worked with them?”
“Many times. They’re a top unit of Oliat Outriders. Their field survival skills are second to none, and their learned reflexes keep them from intruding on a constituted Oliat. I’ve trusted them with my life many times over, and I’m still here. But I don’t really know them personally. We’ve never had a chance to talk, you understand. I was surprised and very pleased to be invited to the wedding.”
Researching the implications of that, she discovered that there were no onlookers or “witnesses” at an Ensyvian wedding. Everyone there assumed familial ties to the wedded group. Now she wasn’t so sure she wanted to go.
When she discussed it with Arlai, he replied, “But the identity we worked out for you is unchallengeable!”
Pacing, grasping at straws, she said, instantly regretting it, “Can we really trust your judgment until we find that malfunction?”
But Arlai’s feelings weren’t hurt. He materialized in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. “Krinata, will you promise not to tell Jindigar something until you’re settled on your new planet?”
“Promise not to tell Jindigar?” she asked, incredulous. She still couldn’t get used to such a sentient Sentient.
“I knew you would,” he accepted complacently. “Listen. There was no malfunction in my circuits. It was Jindigar’s error. He must have misheard me. I told him suit seven and he gave you suit jive. I only noticed it after you were gone. I was too overloaded, and had cut back on routine safety checks. Right now Jindigar is under so much pressure between Grisnilter and Desdinda, and all he’s been through, he’s driving himself too hard, judging himself too harshly. If he knew he’d made such an error, he’d start doubting his sanity again, and you know what that does to him.”
“Jindigar’s been leery of you, tearing your guts apart and rebuilding them, triple-checking everything you do, and you’ve—”
“He’ll be satisfied after a while. But I think this has been the best therapy for him. It’s been centuries since he’s done circuitry work. He’s losing himself in it. It’s a small price to pay. I don’t want you to distrust me, too. You’ve got to go with him, and take risks on my performance. You’re the only one aboard he’d trust down there with him.”
Well, if Jindigar can join the family, so can I. She wondered if that would make them in-laws. But she had no time to research it. They were approaching Razum Two orbit.
Arlai provided her with an ankle-length black gown and cowl cut as if for a postulant of the Sisters of Jacob, a Terran-based nursing order known for its broadmindedness. With inserts in her shoes to change her walk, a dental appliance which changed her speech as well as her cheek line, she became Sister Marietta, accompanying Rrrelloleh, a wealthy eccentric Lehrtrili with dire health problems.
Arlai found it harder to take care of the identity scanners they’d have to pass at customs. The planet was virtually under martial law now, and the Sentients had been allowed fewer discretionary powers. In the end, he created an implant for Rrrelloleh that produced an energy field exactly like an internal life-support capsule, which would disrupt the scanners. For Krinata, he was able to plant Sister Marietta’s identity in the superficial visa files. “If they don’t challenge you, you’ll get by.”
Rrrelloleh planned to “hire” the five newly wed Lehiroh to act as Ensyvian missionaries to the Lehiroh servants on his private planetoid. It was such a plausible story, she was certain they wouldn’t attract a second glance.
But the moment they grounded and entered the warren of customs checks, she knew they were in trouble.
Walking down the covered gangway attached to their lander, they entered a passenger terminal swarming with uniforms. Standing guard at every strategic intersection, was an armored Ducal soldier. Half of them held a naked pygmy anthropoid on a leash: dark, wrinkled skin stretched over prominent bones; saucer eyes; protruding sensitive lips; large cranium; long delicate fingers; doglike obedience.
Rashions! Nodrial’s secret weapon! She’d only seen pictures of the creatures, but they’d been a year-long sensation among ecologists when she was in school.
She wrapped both hands on Rrrelloleh’s arm and tugged him to a refreshment dispenser, keying it for a Lehrtrili drink as she whispered, “Don’t call attention to us.”
“I saw the Rashions, Sister,” said the voder’s voice as Rrrelloleh twittered. “They’re protosentient telepaths, not to be removed from their native habitat by Oliat decree. Hardly surprising that proscription has been violated, but I wonder what the other Dukes think of Nodrial’s appropriation of them. I wonder what the Emperor thinks of it.”
“If they know. We didn’t, with all Arlai’s methods. Do you suppose they’ll let us leave, after seeing this?”
“Good question. We’ll deal with that when necessary. Meanwhile, did you really want me to take the medication now Sister? I’m feeling well enough.”
He was telling her to think herself into her role, and she complied, hoping that her nervousness would be attributed to her being a novice with such a responsibility on a strange world—as her passport showed—for the first time.
They walked slowly as befitting the infirm, and arrived at the checkpoint among the last in the line, choosing the most bored and exhausted-looking clerk.
However, the clerk also had a Rashion chained beside his counter, and Krinata summoned impatience at getting a slow clerk when her charge was so tired from the trip downplanet.
She tried not to feel her surprise at being passed through without a challenge. Have more faith in Arlai. Within moments, they were outside.
Razum Two circled an old star, now only half as bright as Sol. Razum Two’s surface gravity was barely a tenth more than Terran, but she was grateful for the ugly “g” shoes Arlai had provided, and the contact lenses to penetrate the dimness. The local day was a bit more than two days long, and they’d arrived in the midmorning, with both moons in the sky, yet the lighting felt more like a dingy overcast.
Jindigar had an address on his invitation. They hired an auto-cab and requested a scenic route to an expensive hotel on the nearby lakeshore, assured by Arlai that the tourist route would take them near God’s Park, a famous attraction filled with religious statuary.
They were running late. The wedding was scheduled for noon, but they dared not attract attention by going directly to a private home. Krinata was relieved when she saw the park, and called the auto-cab to a halt at the entry. “May we take a stroll, Rrrelloleh? I would so love to see this.”
“You’re always prescribing exercise and pretending it’s you who needs it!” he answered querulously. But he moved out of the cab and dismissed it.
They ambled across the park on a diagonal, and Krinata was fascinated despite herself, for here, carved in native stone, were representatives of every religion’s concept of God. A few were abstract symbols, but most seemed to be in the likeness of the worshipping species.
Despite the vast diversity of forms, all the entities seemed to share a similar peace, and a transcendent gentleness. Such similarities made the Allegiancy possible. The species might not speak similar languages, but they were trying to say the same unsayable things.
Patriotism and pride swelled within her, and broke into a rash of tears. She’d set herself outside the Allegiancy.
But then she saw in her mind’s eye, the armored guards with helpless, starving, proto-aborigine telepaths cruelly leashed. Her precious imperial system had spawned that. Any Duke who had jurisdiction over the Rashions’ home planet would have done what Nodrial was doing. Two of them and a King were with him. Lavov—and who knew what other Dukes—were also after power, willing to wrench it from the Throne. And she was perversely glad not to be tacit signatory to that by remaining in the aristocracy. For she realized that if Zinzik defeated Nodrial, Zinzik would have the Rashions for his own use, and use them he would.
Seeing here the essential unity of the Allied Species, she found her loyalty to the Allegiancy itself crumbling. It was frightening. Suppose Jindigar’s right, and it’s just a monstrous beast tearing at itself in senile dementia?
Only one hope remained: Trassle’s evidence, now before the Kings. Could they still pull everything together again after deposing Zinzik? Or will the Dukes, and some of the Kings, tear the Allegiancy apart in individual grabs for power? She could see how, now that one species had been made scapegoat, the King of any species might well decide it was better to grab for the Imperial Throne than risk being made the next Emperor’s scapegoat. She shuddered.
“Sister Marietta?”
“Oh, I’m coming.” She tore herself away from such dark thoughts, and followed Rrrelloleh, reminding herself not to think out of character lest the Rashions notice.
They emerged from another gate onto a quiet street lined with immense old houses built of native rock. The buildings had to be strong to withstand the ferocious winter storms, but she wondered how a rigid construction could survive the legendary Razum groundquakes.
Rrrelloleh pointed at a house with his walking stick, which contained a shielded comunit attuned to Arlai. The leptolizer Rrrelloleh wore at his waist was mostly sham, and Sister Marietta of course wore none. “That’s an interesting old building.”
Wrapped around the corner of the block, the house was larger than the others, with new construction added onto the old haphazardly. There was a high fence around the property insuring privacy. Sounds of merrymaking drifted from within.
Rrrelloleh checked a jeweled chronometer he wore on a neck chain. “Jindigar was told to be here about an hour ago, to be met outside. Perhaps we’re too late.”
Just then a Lehiroh dressed in shiny forest green satin jodhpurs and long, flowing tailed waistcoat, with white shoes, belt, pillbox cap, and gloves, came around the corner of the fence. He was carrying a long green satin streamer in one hand and a filigree-decorated book in the other. But he walked stoop-shouldered, watching his feet. Everything in his movements suggested an insuperable weight on his spirit. Krinata recognized the Ensyvian groom’s traditional costume.
Rrrelloleh stepped up to the young Lehiroh. “Storm!”
The Lehiroh looked up, startled. He noticed Sister Marietta, but realized the voder had addressed him. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
Krinata moved up beside Rrrelloleh. She glanced all about for any sign of the Rashions, and saw they were alone on the residential street, just a few cars passing. “This is Jindigar, but he’s emulating a Lehrtrili called Rrrelloleh.”
Storm’s gaze rivetted on the beady eyes. After a moment, it was clear he didn’t believe it. And he thought his life was forfeit. “I surrender. No need for entrapment. I invited a Dushau to my wedding. Don’t blame the others.”
Rrrelloleh looked down at Sister Marietta. Then, to the Lehiroh, he twittered, “Arlai’s work is always superlative.”
Again Storm inspected the Lehrtrili. “I don’t believe you. Jindigar is dead. All of Kamminth’s is dead.”
“I’m glad that rumor is still about, but I doubt it’s believed in the highest official circles. Must we stand about on the street?” twittered Rrrelloleh, strictly in character. The wings fluttered, feathers rustling.
But something penetrated Storm’s armor. “By the sandpits, it is you!” His eyes wide, he raked Sister Marietta with a glance.
Rrrelloleh trilled, “For the moment, this is Sister Marietta, who accompanies this rich and eccentric Lehrtrili to care for his uncertain health. At my insistence, we have stopped because we recognize your dress, and wish to invite ourselves to your wedding. Afterward, we may have an interesting proposition for all of you to consider.”
Storm shook himself out of his daze and answered, “Afterward … well, we’ve all agreed not to allow anything to cloud this day for us.” Seeing their curiosity, he added, “I promise I’ll tell you all about it, afterward. I just can’t believe you’re alive. It’s got to be a good omen.”
“Jindigar is dead until we’ve passed the Rashions and cleared orbit. But Rrrelloleh would consider it a wonderful privilege to join your wedding. The obligation incurred would not be slighted.”
“Oh, I never… I mean, we wouldn’t expect you to feel obligated.”
“Custom is custom,” answered Rrrelloleh. “Self-invitation is a Lehrtrili custom. Yours will also be honored.”
Storm surveyed the street as if on a hostile planet. “Come inside, then.” In the vestibule, he paused to wind the green ribbon about the outside digit on Rrrelloleh’s left hand and then up the arm. “This means you’re my guest. I’ll get one for Sister Marietta in a moment. Come.”
He led them down a winding stair into a large open room. One whole wall was made of sliding windows composed of small, transparent colored squares, heavily draped. Outside the open wall, she could see a courtyard and a large pool where the water was as still as glass. White cup-shaped flowers floated in the pool. Overhead, streamers and flowers in five vibrant colors canopied the room, forest green, yellow, bright blue, red, and rich cinnamon brown.
Lehiroh, dressed in every shade of white, styled from flowing robes and capes to tailored jumpsuits and tunics, filled the room. The only touch of color on the guests was the satin ribbons wound about their left hands and arms which seemed about equally divided among the five prominent colors.
In a moment, Storm returned with a green ribbon for Krinata, and she fretted, “I feel out of place in black.”
“Oh, black is perfectly appropriate. We only selected white because Bell’s family wanted it.” When he’d wound the ribbon properly, asking three times if she was sure she wanted to stay, he led them to a section of the room occupied by people wearing green ribbons.
It was almost high noon, the traditional momen
t for weddings, so there was little time for them to meet Storm’s family. They only caused a momentary stir, and then everyone was intent on taking their places.
Outside, a number of black-clad dignitaries appeared and stationed themselves in a circle on a huge lawn beyond the pool. This was some sort of signal, for everyone inside the room rushed to form up into lines, one line for each color.
It was only then that Krinata saw the other grooms and the bride, for each of them led a line of their kinsmen. The bride, she noted, was dressed all in red without even the white accessories. She vaguely recalled that red denoted the power of the life force for the Ensyvians, and Lehiroh eyes probably didn’t see all this as clashing colors.
After flitting about checking on details, Storm came and dragged Rrrelloleh to the head of the green line with him, saying, “This way you won’t have to move as fast when the dancing starts.”
She took the place behind Rrrelloleh, mulling over this thoughtful comment and feeling more uncertain of herself. But the woman behind her didn’t seem to mind being displaced, so Krinata just began scanning those opposite her for cues.
There was a burst of noise, traditional music, and the lines all began moving at once. Luckily she noticed everyone start off on their left foot. The lines wove circles about the pool, then spiraled to come to rest in a giant star formation, the grooms and bride each facing one of the black-clad dignitaries, their relatives in a line behind them.
The house, three stories high, circled the pool area with many windows opening onto it. Each window was jammed with Lehiroh men, women, and children. A deep hush fell as the music and marching stopped.
Krinata tried not to think of the eyes fixed curiously upon her and Rrrelloleh, and listened to the rapid exchange between the black-clad old man and Storm. It was in some archaic Lehiroh language she’d never heard before.
After a vigorous question-and-answer session, repeated between each of the grooms and the bride and their confronter, there was a burst of music, and all the lines moved sideways to their left until they confronted a new questioner, whereupon the exchange was repeated.
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