Anyway, the officers tended to deal only with the nobility like His Lordship, and the mates dealt with the heads of the stores and senior trade representatives, such as there were here, and not at all with the common folk who were always flitting around, asking a million questions and just generally getting in the way.
More than once she considered stowing away, perhaps after the great ships were well out to sea, but there were a lot of grim tales of such stowaways being worked like slaves then tossed overboard before the next port, and while most were exaggerations and many were doubtless fanned by shipping companies, there were the occasional really rotten crews, so you couldn’t tell for sure. Tann Nakitt knew that the best con men were the ones you’d embrace and then buy dinner and toast their good health even when they were stealing you blind.
Hell, in reverse circumstances, that’s what she’d do.
In a sense, that was the real problem with this new race, new life, new future. Not where or what, but the fact that Tann Nakitt had been born and raised a Ghoman, and had felt real pride and a sense of belonging because of that. You might lie, cheat, and steal for Ghoma, and you might even do it to alien races for the fun and profit of it, but you didn’t do that to your own people. After living years of the crooked but quite pleasant life, Nakitt had been asked by his people to put his unique talents to patriotic use, and it had been done almost without thinking, almost as a way of justifying being a con artist and general scoundrel. Maybe the gods of Ghoma had steered this course in their service. Now that was gone. Even if she were to somehow return to the Realm, she’d not only not be a Ghoman, she’d not be related to any known race or world. Oh, there was probably an Ochoan world there someplace in the vast universe, but that, too, wouldn’t be the same.
And if that was taken from her, what was left? Only the scoundrel.
Haqua and Czua, on the other hand, she had grown very fond of, but what was their future? They didn’t even have any of the worldly experiences of a Tann Nakitt, nor know of other worlds and what it was like to be someone, something, else. There was still something within the newcomer that they found attractive, though; a confidence and arrogance that usually radiated from males. It wouldn’t last, though. Hormones would win out during the mating season, if not the forthcoming one then the next. Nobody stayed unmarried here. Biology and the system both worked too much against it. Worse, as orphans of no clear bloodline, they were doomed to be low ranking wives, the kind that did the work and got little of the rewards.
“So, Nakitti, what were you doing over on High Katoor?” Czua asked her. “I saw you there by the forest.” High Katoor was an island up the chain, perhaps five kilometers away, lush but essentially uninhabited. Where it wasn’t too high to be comfortable, it was too overgrown, and far be it that the Ochoans would stoop to actually developing such a place.
“I was mixing drugs and poisons,” Tann Nakitt responded matter of factly.
“You weren’t! Come. What were you really doing over there?”
“Having secret romantic trysts with my countless boy toys,” he replied in the same tone. In fact, he’d answered her query fairly truthfully the first time. She’d been using her old knowledge of chemistry, particularly biochemistry, and matching it with information on drugs and poisons gleaned from the bored keepers of the various ship’s berths in the chain, and with old political hands among Ochoans who were delighted to tell much of their knowledge of what did what to whom. Some of it was pure old wives’ tales and folklore, but others had clear effect and were actually used in medicines and various treatments the same way a doctor might prescribe a headache pill in a more progressive nation. So much of poisons were part of folk medicines, and this knowledge was always passed down to those with an aptitude for it. Though hardly an expert yet, she had made some rather remarkable discoveries about various plants and mineral combinations here.
“Oh, very well! If you will not tell, you will not. Did you see the two ships come in this morning before dawn?”
“I saw them after they docked, yes,” Nakitt responded. “More refugees, more sad faces, more evidence of war in the west. What is most upsetting is that the traffic seems one way. They are coming from the west to the east through us. That implies that trade in the eastern Overdark is just about at a standstill, or at least relegated to the coastal trade. This Josich and his family are unbelievably fast and efficient.”
“But it is so far away from here. What is it to us?”
Tann Nakitt looked back out at the ocean in the distance and took a deep breath. “We too lightly follow easy gods of good and plenty,” she commented philosophically. “We even celebrate the rogues and rascals now and then, the gods of drink and revelry. We dismiss evil as a simple mental disorder. ‘Oh, he had an abusive mother,’ or ‘Oh, she had her brains scrambled by drugs,’ and we excuse the most terrible of behaviors as simply excesses of what we know. Believe it, girl. There is true evil. Not merely as a counter to good and as some kind of relative moral judgment we can adjust up or down to suit our moods—real evil, existing for its own sake.”
“You are scaring me now.”
“I am scared myself, and for good reason. I’ve seen faces like those in the ships before, and I know that if those faces exist here, this far away from the horror, then what is happening back there is almost beyond our imagining. But that’s no devil or demon out there; it’s no bad god or nasty spirits. They are flesh and blood, the worst kind of evil.” She looked out again, as if trying to see something beyond the ability of eyes and ears and nose to see. Looked out as she’d been looking out since she’d seen that first shipload of refugees.
“They’ll be coming one day for us,” she said with a shudder. “What will we do when they come? Where will we run? To whom will we be able to turn? That is why I am learning what I need to learn. I do not necessarily believe in destiny, but somehow I think I’ve been dropped here because I know how to help. Maybe not win, but help. I wish I could convince any of the young men of this, let alone the noble houses. They all think I’m off the wall and over the cliffs on this. I’m sure that’s what they thought, too. Their leaders, that is. The ones who told those in those ships, and also told the ones who didn’t get to the ships, not to worry about it.”
“Well, I am worried about it,” said a melodic male voice behind her. She almost jumped, and turned to see the large and imposing figure of the young Baron Oriamin. The sight of such a personage in this peasant rookery was not only unexpected, it was almost unprecedented, not to mention downright embarrassing. But Czua wasn’t embarrassed at all; she was in absolute awe of the man, who was just about everything a young Ochoan female dreamed about in a man.
“My Lord Baron! Please, pardon my dark musings! I had no idea…” Nakitt stumbled, spreading her wings and bowing low.
The Baron was a well-known figure in the region, but generally lived on the family peak with its castlelike fortress built out of solid rock, and didn’t mix much with the common folk. They’d seen him only from a great distance before, and now, close up, he lived up to his billing.
“Please do not feel put out. I did not expect that you would be waiting for me. I am pleased, however, that you know who I am.”
As if anybody locally didn’t! And he knew it quite well. The guys didn’t do a heck of a lot here, but he sure played his royal breeding well. He also seemed to ooze sexiness on an Ochoan standard, with a commanding voice, huge physical presence, and emanating male sexual hormones that could melt the strongest minds. Nakitt felt the effects and fought mightily against the chemistry causing it. Poor Czua had the look of a mindless panting love slave.
“Please forgive the look of this place, my Lord Baron,” Nakitt managed. “Can I—we—get you something to drink?”
The Baron seemed amused by the idea of consuming anything at this socioeconomic level. “Thank you, no. You are called Nakitti, I believe?”
“Yes, my Lord Baron.”
“Things are beginning to pop, ho
pefully ahead of our common enemies. There is to be a gathering in a few weeks time at Zone to discuss a common policy and strategy to deal with all of this. Much advance work is even now being done and will be revealed there. You come from the same time and space as this mad Empress, do you not?”
“Yes, my Lord Baron. What Josich attempts here is the same as what he attempted back in the confederation called the Realm. He was a male then, an Emperor, self-appointed and self-proclaimed.”
“And this consortium defeated Josich?”
“In a sense, my Lord Baron. It stopped him. It did not, however, catch him. He remained in a hidden empire of criminal organizations for a very long time, and he came here because, after more than a century, they finally did catch him, but at a point where the way here was opened.”
“And you are here, sacrificing your race, your future, everything you had, to continue to pursue him?”
Yeah, sure. “We are dedicated to such a goal, my Lord Baron!”
It wasn’t clear if the Baron believed that or not. Still he said, “I want you to come with me to Castle Oriamin. It has been suggested that you may be of great value in the coming fight. I am leading a delegation to this conference and I need to know much more before I go.”
“I would be honored, my Lord Baron, but is it not true that even your servants are of royal blood? Pardon, but I beg your understanding of my worries about such a situation. I fear that if I were to stay there, I would spend so much time bowing and addressing everyone as superior to the point where I would be less than nothing.”
The Baron seemed genuinely amused by the response, which covered an area that had never occurred to him. “Well, then, we’ll have to give you some kind of status. I cannot, of course, give you blood royal, since only birth can do that, but I can confer the status of concubine, which will give you status as a member of the household. We can have someone teach you the basics of being a courtesan. That way we will have you as a resource.”
“I—uh…” Tann Nakitt didn’t know what to say. It was everything she’d been trying to connive and more all rolled into one, and it had simply walked up and knocked!
The Baron mistook the hesitancy. “Please consider it. We need you, and, as I say, many in positions far beyond Ochoa believe you should be included in this. We will see to it that your friends here are well taken care of, if that is a consideration.”
Through the desire, through the sexual turn-on, through the shock at suddenly being “in,” Tann Nakitt’s basic nature, as they always warned about such types, came to the fore. “I shall be honored, my Lord Baron, if my friends are looked after and if my personal honor is satisfied as you suggest. I am always and forever at the command of my adopted nation.”
This type always loved to be stroked, she thought. She could see in his manner that he was pleased by this response.
“I have a busy schedule. Can you say your farewells and leave with me this day?” he asked her. “I should like to get you settled in before I need to go to a local conference with the military district.”
Tann Nakitt sighed. “Well, I would have loved to have said farewell to Haqua, who is a fisher today, and I am certain that she will be devastated at having missed your visit. Still, dear Czua, you will convey my deep affection to her when she returns, won’t you?”
Czua managed a puzzled look in her direction, and she knew it might have been a little thick. In fact, the look was a lot more like, I’m envious, you bastard! I hope you smother on his first embrace! Oh, well.
“Just let me gather together my few possessions and I am yours to command, my Lord Baron,” she said with as much humility as she could muster.
Hell, wasn’t this how Josich had started out under similar circumstances?
Look out, Well World! Tann Nakitt’s back in the game!
Well, not exactly back in her game.
Ochoans lived in the cliffs and hillsides and had made small cities out of buttes and mesas, but the nobles lived far better, higher up, of course, than the common cliff cities, and in massive castles hewn out of solid rock. As with the cities and towns below, there were no roads to these places, no ropes and pulleys and cables. When your population could fly, these weren’t necessary to get in and out, and when supplies were required, they could be brought in by strong flying teams or hoisted on steam-driven platforms that could also be quickly disassembled.
The grand, polished face of Castle Oriamin showed a dwelling of perhaps seven stories more than a kilometer in the air, as often as not above rather than below the clouds that formed as the winds blew over the warm ocean and were lifted up to climb the mountains. The castle was also hundreds of meters long, and clearly was the home to a great many people. There was no fetch and carry for water here, either; running water from the frequent rains and mists came right through the place, then exited as a series of smaller waterfalls. In between they were diverted to fountains for drinking, baths for bathing, and a system of cisterns that allowed wastes from the population to be carried out the bottom and drop with the spent water into the ocean far below.
Even Tann Nakitt was impressed. Now this was more like it!
The Baron had already gone to his next appointment; she was following Madama Kzu a Oriamin, one of the Baron’s very distant cousins and a part of his entourage, up and into the place.
It was only when you got very close to the face of the fortress that you saw the guns. Sleek, streamlined, the gunpowder cannon refined to the nth degree for safety, range, and efficiency, these bristled from gun mounts and ports. They looked too polished, though, to be imminently practical; if there was any drill and test firings, none had heard of it.
Still, if they did work, siege would be the only practical way to attack the place short of flying soldiers carrying rockets. Those flyers would face air-cooled machine-gun fire that would make accuracy a real problem, too, Nakitt thought, spotting the smaller weapons. Below was a broad bay that was quite deep and wouldn’t provide the best anchorage for floating gun platforms. They would, however, make nice targets for castle guns, which looked to have the range of the bay, and had gravity on their side.
Food would be the only problem, and even that might be more a hardship than a fatality. The snows of the peak almost certainly were used year round for cold storage, and the clouds and mist would mask those going up to get them, or even to supplement them.
Whoever had designed the system, long ago, had some real skill in defensive fortifications. Each major bay or harbor had a similar fortification, although not necessarily so large or so grand, and, perched on the battlements, you could just barely see the next one on a distant island in each direction. Semaphore and lantern could give communications even in the worst of circumstances, and, in the case of key potential landing sites, fire could be coordinated.
The real question was whether they understood this logic, and whether they knew how to work this system. Nakitt understood it and grasped it at once, which might well be very valuable in the future.
Madama Kzu led her quickly inside and through a labyrinthine maze of corridors and chambers that were almost certainly not designed to confuse any invader but sure confused Nakitt. Still, some of the chambers were quite impressive, with marvelous carvings of legendary creatures, wildlife and plants of the nation, and much that was simply abstract. Most were overlaid in gold leaf, the floors had elaborate mosaics, and the ceilings had paintings and designs that created a unique geometry for each open area.
The lighting was gas, but had the effect of muted colored fluorescent light, running in tubes. Only at points could an open flickering flame be seen, angled against a series of mirrors that allowed it to shine down the tubes and illuminate the inert additives that provided the color and uniformity.
It sure beat the smelly and inefficient fish oil torches used back in the town.
Water was everywhere. Fountains and stylish pools and baths seemed omnipresent, and there were also lavish tapestries and lush silken curtains.
/> There were, however, no doors, save those on the inner chambers of the highest royalty—the Baron and his immediate family—and even there the privacy was illusory since they used attendants and staff for just about everything, even getting them up in the morning.
The Baron certainly seemed to be something of a stud, if nothing else. He had fifteen wives who had already borne him twenty-two fully royal children, and he also had twenty concubines who’d given him a small horde of little bastards to make sure that the castle would always have a royal staff.
The Baron shared power and authority with the elected council, but did not share wealth or living conditions with them.
“These artworks were surely not done entirely by Ochoans,” Tann Nakitt remarked as they reached the end of their long walk, on the lowest level of the castle.
“You are correct,” Madama Kzu replied. “Many artisans from many nations were employed in decoration, and still are in keeping it up and in restoration. There are no outsiders here at the moment, but it is common to see them.
They come in on the ships, as do material and sometimes whole works, and they also leave by them.”
“The guns we saw above, big and small. Do they work? Do people here know how to use them?”
It was a fair question, but it seemed to irritate Kzu. “There are members of the household responsible for all of them, and all that they require,” she answered huffily. “I assume that anyone who would accept such a position knows how to work them.”
Bad assumption, Nakitt thought. I’ve seen guys on laser cannons and particle beam disintegrators that couldn’t count to three or know which end to point. In this kind of inbred society in particular, you would lose one hell of a lot of face if you were asked to take over and then didn’t know your job. So it was a fair assumption, from the fact that they were being kept as pieces of sculpture rather than test fired and worked on in drills, that the damned things were just supposed to scare you to death. Even the Baron had worn a long sword, an archaic weapon that was basically affixed with nasty clamps or implanted hardware under a wing and which could only do any damage if you basically rammed somebody.
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