The crowds went wild. Cheering on the one side and anger on the other.
Kambisha looked round the mess and saw the same emotions mirrored here, both holy joy and deep dejection. Apparently this was a popular sport.
A boy near her shouted. ‘I hadn’t seen this match yet! I hadn’t seen it yet! Oh glorious, we won! Now on to the finals!’
Then he sat down and cried. ‘Of course! No finals; it’s all gone.’
In minutes, the whole mess was awash with tears and Kambisha could only look on helplessly.
‘Let them cry.’ Holyn the healer sat down at her table. ‘They need this. Let the emotion out. Too many were bottling it up. Darn, what an awful match, that! Barbaric blood sports. We will try them on football instead.’
Kambisha looked at him. ‘Tourneys and swordfights are my thing. Or boxing.’
‘It is a blood sport,’ Gunild said. ‘I have seen many matches, and the appeal is in the fighting.’ She waved at the screen. ‘What you saw was the family version. I got an uncut one too, it’s horrible. At least this version doesn’t show the worst blood and the... the fatalities.’
‘We will not bring this sport to Firstworld,’ Odysson said.
‘Nor to the Realm,’ Kambisha added. ‘If we can show the Moi how to express their feelings better, they won’t need that much violence.’
Blaring music drowned out her voice as an orchestra appeared on the wall projection, dressed in a riot of colors and playing a rhythmic music that almost dragged her bodily to the dance floor.
It sounded much like the wild dances of their Kell ancestors and made her blood race through her body.
Kyrus grabbed her hand. ‘Let’s show them a thing,’ he shouted over the music.
Improvising to the beat, they danced Kell style, which looked like a cross between a brawl and hot love.
Some Moi, chock-full of emotion, tried to imitate them, and after a few minutes, the two Kells chose other partners and took them through the steps.
By the time the show ended, the whole mess was in a state of exhaustion.
‘That was wonderful!’ Kambisha cried. ‘Anyone here who plays an instrument?’
There were, of course; out of eight hundred kids some were bound to be musicians. Gogol and three others were the first, clutching unfamiliar looking instruments. Ythan was with them, a little watchful as if he wasn’t sure what to think of it all.
Then others joined them. Gunild produced more instruments from her massive stores, and raggedy at first, with some drop-outs and drop-ins, a band was formed, and the impromptu dance went on. Now Ythan showed he could truly sing. His voice was a clear treble, strong enough to shake the stars from their courses. He knew many of the songs, and together, he and Gogol turned that bunch of amateurs into something far better.
When there came a break, Ginny, S-Az’s first officer, jumped at the strangely formed percussion instruments, got into an old Kell hunting rhythm and sang of lions on the Radhaijan Plains. Kyrus joined in, face flushed, and using his broom as a spear, did the ceremonial dance. For a few minutes, Kambisha saw not the dead moonscape around them, but the purplish shrubs and the leathery trees of the fields at Kell.
Finally, the music fell silent; the dancers dropped down, mopping sweaty faces, and sat staring at each other, grinning.
‘Gunild is a most excellent psychologist,’ Healer Holyn said. ‘She got those kids looking forward again. Oh good, Collon is going to do his thing now. Clever of him.’
The longhaired merchant cadet came in, dribbling a ball. He went round without missing a single dribble, and the others all stared at him.
‘It’s a strange thought the Moi don’t know ball games,’ Holyn said. ‘It simply never occurred to them. Gunild created the ball. Collon is a sports buff, and we had planned to start some guys on it. Let’s see if he can sell the game to those Moi kids.’
Collon looked around and tapped three others on the chest. He spoke to them, as if explaining something, and then pointed to a table. Then he motioned to the others to give him room.
‘Now,’ he said. ‘This is a football. That table is the goal. I must touch the ball down between the table’s legs and those three guys over here must stop me without using violence.’
Then he gave them a demonstration, passing the three easily, running rings around them while they vainly tried to kick the ball away from him. After the fifth goal he stopped, slapped their shoulders and looked around.
He had their full interest, Kambisha saw.
Now Collon chose two teams of five kids and added a second table to the game. Soon they ran, shoving and pushing, while Collon shouted instructions. Slowly they got the hang of it, and after a while it began to look like football.
Collon blew a tin whistle. ‘Well done! We have more balls. Why don’t you go outside, choose some teams, and have a go at it? In the afternoon we’ll hold a little competition.’
Half of the Moi went out and several of the Firstworld kids with them.
‘They’ll act as coaches,’ Holyn said.
Kambisha looked at him. ‘You had it all worked out?’
‘We did. Gunild knows those guys. They’re brought up much more repressed than we. Showing emotion isn’t encouraged and they aren’t well equipped to handle the shock they had. Sport, music and those sob shows like Ythan made were the only ways to blow off steam their people found socially acceptable. So Gunild had a word with us healers and we came up with the football idea. Those beam shows were a brilliant way to start, and from there we improvised.’
‘It worked.’
‘Even better than we hoped. That idiot game was very popular, and the last-but-one in a long series. Village-to-village, district-to-district, province-to-province, and so on, just like a football competition.’
‘Well, football isn’t exactly a peaceful game either,’ Odysson said.
Holyn grinned. ‘An uncle of mine is resident healer at the Vanhaari Football Center. It’s a very well-paying job.’
‘What is there for those who aren’t interested in football?’ Kambisha said.
Holyn smiled. ‘Those like me? Watch.’
At a table halfway down the mess, a girl had picked up an instrument that looked like a flat board with strings. She moved her hand across them and strummed a few notes. Then she sang, in a soft voice that easily carried the whole mess. It was in some dialect Kambisha didn’t understand, but apparently her public did, for they listened raptly.
When her last song died away, there was a flurry of motion and the small shape of Ythan appeared beside her, dancing like a Hizmyran spell snake. He started a song that sent a ripple of laughter through the mess.
Iauny lifted her arms and her body swayed as she sang with him. Whatever it was, to the Moi it was clearly naughty, and the onlookers cheered them on. Finally, both knelt, arms across the chest, heads touching the floor. Briefly, the lights went out, and back on, and the two were gone.
‘That could have gotten them fined in Moigar,’ Holyn said. ‘Grogor had been discussing this piece before, but Iauny was shy of it. She’s a balladeer, and this piece is definitely risqué, so she wasn’t comfortable with it. Then you brought in Ythan and he was like “Yeah, great! Let’s do it.” He talked her into it, and now she’s glad she did.’
‘It was very pretty,’ Kambisha said. ‘What’s it called?’
Holyn smiled. ‘Dance of the Seed and the Egg.’
‘Oh,’ Kyrus guffawed. ‘Yeah, that won’t go down well everywhere.’
‘We’ve got a lot of talent here,’ Kambisha said. ‘That girl, Iauny; who is she?’
‘A music student. She, Grogor and two others are pros. Realm University offers several musical courses, and they have an AI instructor who is easily as good as a human singer.’
‘We got something great here,’ Odysson said. ‘We must have records made of those guys. And we should hire an agent and let them do a tour of Firstworld.’
‘You’re kidding,’ Kambisha said.
‘If you’re serious,’ Healer Holyn said. ‘A cousin of mine is thick with a lot of those artist guys. I bet he could get you someone.’
‘Ask him,’ Odysson said. ‘We can at least talk it over.’ He sat back, rubbing his nose with a finger. ‘Guys, we need an office back home.’
‘Well, go and get one,’ Kambisha said practically.
‘I know. The big question is, are we ready to go public?’ Odysson said.
‘We can’t keep it a secret forever,’ Kambisha said. ‘Our Firstworld guys have families who want to know where they are. But we don’t want hordes of people coming in. How do we keep our premises secure?’
‘That’s why we must open a big office in Seatome,’ Odysson said. ‘Like Broomer House or Navy HQ, with guards, clerks, mindmages and friendly recruiters. It will be the only official portal into Realmport, with guides to take strangers up. Ah, we can install our own portals, I hope?’
‘Of course,’ Gunild said. ‘Everybody and their cat can do that; they’re just self-sticking metal plates. All work through me, so I get to vet every port beforehand.’
‘You mean not all cats can come here?’ Odysson said.
‘If you tell me which cats I am to keep out, yes sir.’
‘Right, I’m going to Seatome tomorrow,’ Odysson said. ‘It’s time we start recruiting properly.’
‘An HQ means Moi going to Firstworld,’ Kambisha said, suddenly thoughtful.
Odysson looked at her. ‘Sure, why not?’
Kambisha closed her eyes and emptied her mind. ‘Lord Bodrus? I know you don’t want to discuss these matters, but would you mind very much if galactic people in our service visited Firstworld?’
The silence in her mind deepened. There was a hint of lightning in the distance, which wasn’t possible on the Moon. Then the overpowering presence filled her being of the god to whom her father was in a way related.
‘I do mind,’ Bodrus said in a heavy voice. ‘More than you can possibly understand. Yet I have no choice. Changes are forced upon me as a result of my own failure. Do what you must.’ A crash of thunder shook the base, and the god was gone.
‘What was all that about?’ Odysson said.
Kambisha looked around. None of those present reacted to the thunder, so it was something only the three of them could sense.
‘I had to ask him,’ she said absently. Through his own fault... Did he mean the mana quake? Or did something else happen? ‘We knew Bodrus didn’t want anything to do with space, so I didn’t want to go behind his back.’
‘Of course not,’ Kyrus said. ‘At least now he knows.’
Kambisha sighed. Matters were getting complicated. Two families of gods, and one even greater no one wanted to talk about? ‘Let’s not discuss the matter,’ she said. ‘I am not sure it is safe.’
CHAPTER 13 – RHU
The next morning, most of the Moi were up and about early, playing football with a surprising fanaticism.
Kyrus watched the various teams dash around for a moment, shook his head, and sat down to his breakfast.
‘Morning.’ Healer Holyn walked over to his table and sat down. ‘Go ahead, eat. I can stand your gorging. What I wanted to say—you had better let those kids be today. You were planning to start them on battlemagic today, but a lot of the guys are still wrestling with their emotions. Letting them play with fire spells could result in smoking holes around the base. Gunild talked things through with Verrythers and his team and they’ll take it over from here, with help of Collon and his football coaches.’
‘Another day then,’ Kyrus said. ‘We’ll pull the next base from Gunild’s hat instead. You will be on board?’
Holyn smiled. ‘Sure. Those motivators have their own tricks and I would only be in the way.’
‘Breakfast first.’ Kyrus’ glance went to the two big, steaming cutlets the servor put before him and he smacked his lips. ‘Look at them beauties! That’s how they must be; fifteen inches each and plenty of onions.’
‘They’re adjusted to your appetite,’ Holyn said. ‘You eat enough for three others and you’re not getting fat either.’ He shook his head. ‘You’re a furnace.’
‘I dunno.’ Kyrus started on his breakfast. ‘Where do you want us to go today, Gunild?’
‘The Koopal System,’ Gunild said. ‘Planet 3 is a Lesser World, but its moon was home to Realmstore, headquarters and showroom of what was going to be the largest retail business in the Realm.’
‘A shop? Not a big base with ships and all the trimmings?’
‘No, sir. But this may well be even more important. You see, Realmstore was a new enterprise. The Moi didn’t trade much; they left that to the Rhu. That changed when three bright students tinkering in their father’s barn built the first URU, the Universal Reproduction Unit—your friendly Diner.’
‘Just like that?’ Kyrus started on his second cutlet. ‘Clever guys.’
‘They were very clever,’ Gunild said. ‘After a pitchforked mob burned down the barn, they realized they could never use this device for their own people if they didn’t want to be lynched by farmers and fishers who saw their livelihood threatened. So they turned their eyes outward to Realmfleet and to the Lesser Worlds.’
‘Weren’t they competing with the Rhu?’ Holyn asked.
‘They had no problem with that. They got the government interested—not difficult as one of the three was a cousin of the chief minister—and so Realmstore was born.’
Kyrus pushed his empty plate away, grinned at Holyn, and sat back sipping his cawah. ‘Did it work?’
‘They never found out. Moi bureaucracy was slow, sir. It took years before they got their own moon—To be sure it was Koopal’s moon, but the locals were roving nomads and I don’t suppose anyone asked them. Then they turned the little satellite into a single hall large enough to accommodate the flow of goods they expected, and by the time they were ready to go public, years had passed. Three months after the opening the mana quake ruined everything.’
‘So what will we find on that moon?’ Kyrus said.
‘I am not sure, sir. I checked the archives and found the old files. One inspector reported a massive array of URU machines in their production hall.’
‘Diners? A hall full of them?’ In his mind he saw a horde of Dreghs filling the galaxy with endless heaps of stinking junk.
‘Yes, sir. That is why I moved this objective from the bottom to the top, sir.’
‘We must get them out.’ Kyrus jumped to his feet. ‘Come, master healer, let’s go. I suddenly want to own a store.’
‘That’s Koopal 3’s moon?’ Kyrus said. ‘Gunild was right; they did build over the whole place.’
‘Of course it is not a large satellite,’ S-Az said. ‘But it was terribly ambitious. I remember BES Studio bringing the news of their opening. Everybody was here; ministers, Realm admirals, rich investors, all hoping to fill their wallets with the Lesser Worlds’ money. It looked... quite different then.’
‘I can imagine.’ Kyrus stared at the approaching moon. ‘How many square miles would all that be?’
‘Six hundred, give or take a few, sir,’ S-Az said.
A light flashed on the pilot’s control panel and a tinny voice filled the bridge.
‘This is Koopal Realmstore for All Your Known and Unknown Needs. Welcome, Customer; you are cleared to land. Please give right-of-way to ascending spacecraft; thank you.’
‘Realmstore, this is S-Az 113, Realmfleet. What is your status?’
‘I am out of contact. No data available.’
S-Az muttered something profane, before continuing. ‘Out of contact with whom, Realmstore?’
‘Out of contact with my brain. No data available.’
‘Thank you, Realmstore.’ S-Az sighed. ‘Answering-machines!’
Then an elderly male voice came over the comm.; a deep voice with a slight accent. ‘Foreign ship, this
is Rhu Thigor calling. Who are you?’
‘Rhu Thigor, this is Realmfleet frigate S-Az 113; Admiral Kyrus, in command,’ S-Az said.
‘Realmfleet? After so long a time? Have the Moi... No, I would have been informed of that. No matter. S-Az 113, I am in dire need. Are you willing to sell us your aid?’
‘Kyrus here. If we can assist you, we will.’
‘We have a small camp to the east, Admiral. Perhaps you would deign to visit us.’
‘On our way, Rhu Thigor.’ Who are they? Kyrus thought. Would they have got wind of those Diner machines? We’ll have to be careful.
‘There it is.’ First Officer Ginny pointed at the viewscreen on the control panel..
From the air, the camp was a domed collection of colorful tents, stacks of crates and bales and racks of goods. Several people stood staring up at them.
‘Marines, we will ride down,’ Kyrus said.
‘Aye, sir,’ his sergeant said calmly.
Minutes later they were out of the ship and descended slowly to the dome below.
‘I don’t read any danger, sir,’ Holyn said. ‘Just anxiety and fear.’
‘Of us?’
‘No... There is something else.’
When they were nearly at the dome, Kyrus ported them to the ground. As one, they dissolved their shields, sheathed their brooms and looked around, ready for anything.
From the central tent a child appeared, a girl of seven or eight years old, who hurried over to meet them.
Kyrus started. ‘She looks like a Qoor.’ The girl had a darkly green complexion and looked as like any Imperial Qoori as the Moi were Vanhaari.
She bowed to them. ‘Welcome in our camp, noble guests. Allow me to guide you to the presence of Thigor.’
That must be the one he had spoken with. ‘Who is Thigor?’ Kyrus said, following her
The child looked up at him in surprise. ‘He is the lord of our House, noble sir. High Trader Thigor of House Thigor of the Rhu.’
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