by S. N. Lewitt
"And keep the stunners hidden," said Haakogard, who had joined them. He felt a familiar twinge of pride at the sight of his Petit Harriers.
Perzda shook her head. "I hope you know what you're doing, Goren."
"So do I," said Haakogard. "Go on."
She gave a little shake to her head and addressed the others again. "The spools in your insignias will give us a lot of information, so don't worry if you can't get everyone to open up. You can admit to known difficulties within the Alliance, but dismiss anything else as rumor, no matter how correct. You all know the drill. You've done it before. Keep your wits about you and don't get distracted. If there is something you don't understand, ask them to explain, no matter what it's about. We're more in the dark about this place than we thought and we've got to make up for that as quickly as possible, before we do something stupid. I want your reports before tomorrow morning." She glanced toward Haakogard. "Is there anything else, Line Commander?"
Haakogard considered. "Not really. I agree with everything our Protocol Officer has said. Don't stay together. Circulate. Be available. Pretend to be Grands"—he ignored the groan of protest from three of his crew—"and smile. Encourage them to talk. We don't know nearly enough about this place. Don't get dragged into any arguments. These people are very touchy about their honor, and we can't afford to get on their bad sides. And whatever else you do, no game and no gambling. This isn't Standby: this is Neo Biscay, and right now it's a cipher."
Since Jarrick Riven was the only member of the crew to have gambled on Standby, he was indignant. "That was a mistake! How long do I have to keep telling you that? How was I supposed to know about cutting off fingers? Besides, those guys have four arms and twenty-four fingers. They had an unfair advantage!" He laughed suddenly, and so did everyone else in the cabin.
"You took quite a chance," said Zim, grinning.
"Well, what else do you do out in the middle of nowhere?" he asked with tremendous innocence.
Hoots and hollers met his protestation, and Tallis shouted, "Nothing like a friendly wager, is there?"
"I'll wager you, you Buttress-bred—" Riven challenged in a comic threat.
More cries and chortles erupted. This time it was Haakogard who brought them to order.
"All right, all right. Save it for after. We're going to need straight faces for Civuto poMoend. Be good," said Haakogard as he put on his jeweled cap with the iridescent tassel. He hoped he did not look as foolish as he felt. "Let's go to work."
As soon as the thirty-five Harriers and the Mromrosi were escorted into the banqueting hall, the Most Excellent Comes Riton exclaimed over the beautiful Navigator Zim, his magnificent voice sweet as warm syrup. He made the most banal observations seem like poetry. Navigator Zim seemed at once bemused and doubtful of the purpose for his singling her out.
From his vantage point at the next table over, Haakogard watched the Most Excellent Comes offer Navigator Zim the place beside him. "Does the Comes Riton have . . . how to put this? . . . many women in his life?"
"No. No, he does not." Thunghalis was troubled as he saw how the Comes danced attendance on Navigator Zim. He went on, slightly embarrassed. "He is a True First. It is not appropriate."
"Ah. Free breeding can be—" Whatever the rest of Haakogard's comments might be, they were shattered by a loud consort of brass instruments braying out to announce the meal and to signal the night closing of Civuto poMoend's gates.
"Is the closure necessary?" asked Haakogard, who did not like being away from the Yngmoto, no matter how well the Skimmer was secured. "Since you refused to post guards for this reception, I wouldn't have thought—"
"It's because of the Other Colonists. They attack the city at night. We make sure they cannot get in, and that way we do not dishonor ourselves with battle against those who are not our equals." He made a gesture of condemnation. "You know, it is because they came here first that they have forgotten civilization. We never were wholly lost. But they had over seven generations when they had no contact at all. There were N'djowul here part of the time, on the southernmost continent, and they had to abandon everything they had built there and take refuge here. It turned them into barbarians." Thunghalis shook his head. "So they come at night, as if we wore N'djowul, too, and if they can get inside they do all manner of heinous things. They burn and kill and steal."
"That's very unfortunate," said Haakogard as he followed Thunghalis' example and took his place. "Are you sure you will be safe with the doors locked?"
"What harm can they do us, if they cannot get in?" Thunghalis asked.
For the time being Haakogard thought it wisest not to speculate.
There were over a hundred small L-shaped tables not around the room, each with a setting for five. Aside from the table of the Comes Riton himself, there appeared to be no obvious social order to where people sat, or with whom, though Haakogard suspected that such an order did exist. Thunghalis was careful to explain to Haakogard about the food they were served, once or twice warning him away from a questionable dish: "That merlle is an acquired taste, Mere Line Commander. You might like to try some of the s'was; we find most off-worlders prefer it." He made certain that Haakogard learned the names of everyone in attendance, and at the conclusion of the meal, while a troupe of animal-trainers demonstrated the skills of their charges, he did his best to explain the complicated relationships that were inherent in Second Colonization Neo Biscay families. "More attention is paid to lineage in the capital, of course, but we do our best to maintain the standards."
"Then let me see if I have this straight so far," said Haakogard when the evening was almost over and the animal trainers, dressed in bright, engulfing costumes, were being kept busy by over twenty dissimilar beasts, at least four of which had impressive, tusk-like fangs. "Because each phase of the Comes is a clone of the original Comes . . . would you call it original?"
"True First," corrected Thunghalis. He was more relaxed now than he had been earlier, mellowed with food and a strange concoction called Sand Juice, which apparently was mildly hallucinogenic. "The actual True First died long ago, but almost all his clones have lived long."
The animal trainers were building to a climax, creating an unlikely pyramid of very carnivorous-looking beasts, each of which seemed to dislike and distrust the others. "Come Riton was a True First, one of the Second Colonists, the group that was sent because it was believed the First Colony had been lost. You know already what had happened to the Other Colonists. In fact, they regarded the Second Colonists as a return of the gods, or some such thing, and for some time they behaved very sensibly toward us. We were able to establish our Colony with honor. But the Other Colonists did not remain as reasonable as they had been at first. They gradually came to resent our superior civilization and accomplishments, and rather than emulate us, they decided to plunder us instead." He nodded toward the Comes Riton. "To all intents and purposes, the Most Excellent Comes has been present since the conflict began."
"But not this phase," said Haakogard. He would have liked to enjoy a Kleestick but was told that the Comes Riton disapproved of the mildly intoxicating root, though he drank a fair share of Sand Juice.
"This phase, any phase, is precisely the same Comes Riton as he was at the beginning." Thunghalis looked around as the deep bells rang and rumbled again. "We rise," he whispered, tugging at Haakogard's sleeve.
Haakogard did as Thunghalis told him, and was surprised to see the Comes Riton coming toward him, carrying a metallic gauntlet. His wonderful voice was as gripping as the echo of the bells. "We thank the Magnicate Alliance and the Most Distant Gods for aiding us in this time of need through these Petit Harriers. They can, without dishonor, attack our rivals and recover my alternate. We will then be in a position to restore civilization here, and to enter into a greater participation in the Alliance, which is a very dear wish to me, and has been since my first phase." He offered the gauntlet to Haakogard.
"Touch it but do not take it," Thunghalis said sof
tly. "On the fingers only, not the palm."
Haakogard did as he was ordered. "We are pleased to assist all those who are friends of the Magnicate Alliance, for that is the task of the Petit Harriers," said Haakogard, trusting that he was close enough to court form to satisfy these aristocrats of Civuto poMoend.
"We have great hope," said the Comes Riton, making the air ring gloriously, "that none of our misfortune will dishonor you; your presence alone should serve to bring about a rapid settlement to the disruption. We anticipate the day when my authentication is assured and all hostilities cease."
"Good of you," said Haakogard. He wondered if he should say something about the hospitality he and his crew had been ordered to receive. The Mromrosi, near the kitchen door, was no help.
One of the animal trainers made a signal and the largest of the beasts lumbered onto its hind legs, making it almost three times the height of its trainer. Many of the guests stared at the creature, some of them showing anxiety, for it appeared that the trainers were having some difficulty with their enormous charge.
"Look out!" shouted one of the Pangbars, his hand coming up as if to ward off a blow.
The huge beast began to sweep about with its front legs, its long, pointed hooves making impressive gouges in the furniture where it struck. The other animals became angry and restive.
"Most Excellent Comes!" yelled the senior officer of his Guard as he rushed toward the enormous animal, bringing his ceremonial flail up to strike at it. The creature beat him to the blow, its enormous reach giving it fatal advantage before the Tydbar could get close enough to damage the animal. In a single, savage knock with its massive foreleg it smashed the Tydbar's skull and shoulder before the rest of the company was able to move.
As the Tydbar collapsed, more of the Guards came at a run, and Thunghalis moved to protect the Comes Riton.
The enormous metal gauntlet Haakogard had touched dropped onto the floor; a dozen of the poMoend soldiers cried out in horror.
While the poMoend Guard faltered, shaken by what they had seen, Haakogard drew his stunner from the concealed pocket in his sleeve and fired, hoping that the charge would be enough to slow the animal down. He was not certain where to aim, so he chose the neck, reckoning a stun on the spine would work best.
One of the trainers was being mauled by two of the other, smaller carnivores, but the rest of the entertainers had vanished, leaving their ferocious animals behind.
There were screams in the room now as the animals, freed from the bondage of their trainers, went after the sudden bounty around them, snagging for arms and legs with pointed hooves and claws.
"Harriers!" Haakogard shouted, hoping some of the crew could hear over the sudden outburst of noise. "Stunners on!" He fired again, standing much too close to the huge creature to feel secure, but afraid to step back, in case he might endanger one of the others. There ought to be one or two more charges in his stunner, and then he would be without a working weapon.
The largest creature had dropped back onto its front legs and was beginning to wobble as it walked. It craned its neck and made a growling cough before it toppled forward.
Group Chief Eben Dachnor had already stunned two of the smaller animals into unconsciousness and was stalking a third; Executive Officer Mason Tallis was grinning merrily as he aimed at an animal with imposing fangs and a long prehensile tail; Communications Leader Alrou Malise just avoided being knocked off his feet by the sudden rush of one of the midsized beasts; Section Leader Jarrick Riven had managed to stun three of the smallest creatures and was now giving his attention to protecting a group of unarmed courtiers.
Five men lay on the floor, dead or broken, and the beasts were starting to fight over them.
Thunghalis was no longer defending the Comes Riton by himself; Navigator Nola Zim stood between the Comes and the beasts, her stunner leveled at a low-slung animal with a broad head and a double row of triangular teeth. The Comes was staring at her as if she were the most amazing sight he had ever seen. Haakogard sheathed his stunner, its charges exhausted, and glanced toward Zim one more time.
The Guards had drawn their ceremonial flails and were now making their way from one half-conscious beast to another, bludgeoning them to death. The Petit Harriers moved out of their way, a few trying to conceal their disgust, one sorry to miss the fun.
From his place near the door the Mromrosi bounced on six of his eight limbs and made a sound like the patter of hail on glass. His tremendous mass of curls was candy-pink.
When the last of the animals had been dispatched, the Comes Riton raised his splendid voice. Even frightened and nervous he sounded as if he were singing. "I thank you deeply. If your action had not been swift and your weapons sure, my next phase would have had to begin his rule long before he is prepared to do so, and the alternate would claim to have the right to serve in my place. You have shown yourselves honorable and dependable, and I will hold you always in high regard, and have each of my phases to come do so as well."
Pangbar Thunghalis dropped flat on his face in front of the Comes Riton. "O Most Excellent Comes, give me permission, I beg you, to expiate my disgrace for not acting more swiftly. In your need I failed you. The dishonor is intolerable." He half-rose; his shining uniform was mired with blood and other things. "I do not deserve to continue as your Pangbar. I do not deserve to live."
The Guards were beginning to drag the animals away, leaving bright bloody smears to mark their departure.
The Comes Riton sighed. "Yes. You ought to be permitted to kill yourself; I know. But it is not convenient for you to kill yourself just now, Pangbar Thunghalis. I would rather you delay your death until the alternate is found and devivified."
As he lowered himself to the floor again, Thunghalis moaned as he knocked his forehead against the bloody stones. "How can I bear the shame of what I have done?" he pleaded. "Let me end it."
Navigator Zim, who was watching this aghast, turned to the Comes Riton. "You can't seriously intend to give up a good soldier because we moved a little faster. It makes no sense."
"It is a matter of honor," said the Comes Riton unhappily. "I know how keenly he feels his error, how the magnitude of his betrayal poisons his vitals. But just now it does not please me to give him up. Yet how can I refuse when he has disgraced his oaths to me?"
"But death—isn't that a bit extreme, given your present situation? You're in no position to give up good fighting men, Comes"—though she had not called him Most Excellent, no one seemed to notice—"and Thunghalis is supposed to be one of your best. Isn't there anything else he could do?" She put one hand on her hip, trying to present an attitude of nonconcern. "Suicide is so . . . impractical."
"I am nothing," said Pangbar Thunghalis miserably, countering Zim's attempts at pragmatism. "Let me become nothing. It is all that is fitting."
The Comes Riton was staring at Navigator Zim. "What else could he do? What else would be right?"
She gestured impatiently. "I don't know. He doesn't have to die, though, does he? Isn't there something you could demand of him that would clear his honor other than taking his own life? Set him a task, a very difficult task, to accomplish."
"I am not worthy to perform a task for the Most Excellent Comes," protested Thunghalis, shocked at the notion. "It is not our way to usurp the honor of others when ours is gone."
"But it's a—" She gave an exasperated toss of her dark-blue hair.
Haakogard interrupted, hoping he was doing the right thing. "Would it be possible for Pangbar Thunghalis to be put under my supervision while we try to recover the missing clone? My honor is not at stake here as his is, and he would not compromise what the crew does. In fact, he might very well help. We need the advice of someone who knows this world, understands your ways, who can guide us." He took care not to look at the prostrate figure. "I was going to make the request in any case, but given the circumstances I think it might be best if you will agree to this."
Thunghalis howled as if branded.
"All the more reason to loan him to us, then," said Haakogard at his most unperturbed. "It would make his dishonor known as much as his suicide would."
The Comes Riton strode about the room, pondering. He looked at the dead animals and gestured toward them. Then he looked at Thunghalis. "It is not honorable to serve foreigners, and you are now without honor. The foreigners have shown worth that has made you valueless." He came to stand over the prone figure, then looked directly at Navigator Zim. "I gave him to you, foreigners. I make a worthless present of him to you." This time his gesture was different, but it caused one of the Guards to stare in dismay.
"What?" Zim asked, as if she had not understood the words through her translator. "What are you talking about?" She was too astonished to stick to procedure. "You can't give him away like . . . like a goblet."
"I am providing what you seek," said the Comes Riton. "Since you do not want this disgraced man to die, he will be my gift to you." He stared down at Thunghalis again. "You are hers. You are worse than a masterless beast." He turned on his heel and strode away. "Most Excellent Comes," Haakogard called after him, and had the satisfaction of seeing the Comes falter. "Tell me, who would make such an attempt on your life?"
He came back a few steps to face Haakogard, his expression polite and closed. "Attempt on my— Surely you do not assume that—"
"The only trainer left is dead," Haakogard said, deliberately blunt. "He was killed by a knife-thrust, not by the animals."
The Comes Riton shrugged. "Most animal trainers are Other Colonists, free-breeders without honor, who go from city to city and live off the leavings from civilized tables."
"And plot insurrection?" Haakogard inquired.
