by Clayton, Jo;
She pulled her mind back to the present while the floor surged gently upward under her feet. As her brief panic diminished, a sense of exultation grew in her, a feeling of victory anticipated, engendered by the mixture of confusion and fear radiating from the gray-haired veteran staring grimly at the front wall.
The lift shuddered to a stop and the panel slid open. Sukall started to step out.
“Behind me!” Aleytys said curtly. As the guard hesitated, she swept past her into the kipu’s private office. Without pausing, walking with studied grace, she crossed the office and stopped in front of the scarlet tapestry shutting off the archway. “Well?”
Sukall hastened to her side and lifted the tapestry out of her way. Without acknowledgment Aleytys stepped through the arch and moved daintily, swaying toward the kipu’s table-desk, hands tucked formally into the wide sleeves of the robe, back and head regally erect, face a glacial mask.
The kipu was too busy with Asshrud whining at her and Gapp shrilling abuse to notice Aleytys until she stepped behind the table and stood beside the high-backed chair, facing Asshrud and Gapp. an expression of faint distaste on her face.
“Parakhuzerim?” Curiosity and a rising anger rang in the lilting syllables. The kipu tapped irritably on the table with the fingers of her right hand.
Aleytys slid her own right hand out of the left sleeve and held it up, forefinger straight, the other gently curved, silencing the kipu with a gesture that jolted like an electric shock through the arrogant nayid. Aleytys sensed it and found it briefly hard to keep her pose but anger at her own stupidity steadied her and she flicked that extended finger around at Asshrud. “Shiru madis, your misshapen ugliness continues to offend me. Take yourself off.” She turned her shoulder on the trembling nayid and stared calmly and coldly at Gapp.
“Bu … bu … but.…” Asshrud stammered, her beefy jowls quivering absurdly. “You can’t do that.”
The kipu looked thoughtfully at Aleytys then at Asshrud. Aleytys could feel her calculating against a background of faint perturbation. Abruptly she made her decision. “Asshrud, we’ll continue this discussion later. Return to queen level.” Ignoring the offended outburst from Asshrud, she continued, “Sabut Ishat, escort The Belit to her rooms.”
Still protesting, Asshrud waddled out of the room just ahead of the bored guard.
Gapp giggled shrilly, but her laughter trailed off as she met Aleytys’ icy glare. “Um alpitta,” the young nayid snarled, her dissolute face contorting into a sulky frown. “Ardana. Slave,” she jeered. “Crawl back in your little hole.”
Aleytys lifted her head again, cutting off the tirade. “Useless empty-headed hatchling,” she said softly. Both hands were out of the sleeves now, the left thumb caressing the back of the right hand. “Self-indulgent brainless kalamat, you will take your feeble pretensions away from me. You will remember your place. You will cease annoying me with your puerile jabberings.” Her quiet acid-drenched words drove the color from the young nayid’s face, dredging up nightmare memories in her of countless skin-peelings the old one had given her in times past.
The kipu radiated indecision briefly and the tinge of fear grew momentarily stronger, but over all of this the hot green glow of corrosive ambition. The kipu despised thoroughly most of the intelligent entities she knew, the only one she had ever really respected was the old one and that because the old queen held her in a strangle-grip of fear. She tapped her thumb against her teeth, then slapped her hand flat on the table. “Enough of this. Gapp, take yourself out of here. Play your tricks with those who don’t object to them. Or can’t object. And don’t come whining to me when your pleasure objects prove to be unmanageable.”
“But.…” Gapp began to recover her own arrogance. “You promised me. You said.…”
“Nothing. You dispute with me?” Her flexible rich voice lowered to a harsh guttural whisper, reducing the lilt to a rhythmic screech. Gapp stared, astounded, her slack mouth gaping open.
“But.…” She opened and closed her mouth like a fish. “But, kipu, aren’t you forgetting.…”
The kipu slapped her hand down again, the loud splat breaking into Gapp’s speech. “I forget nothing. Ahrib, escort this Belit from here.”
“No!” Gapp shrieked. “No, not for that fakery, that slave, that imitation sarrt.…”
“This ranting offends my ears.” The soft drawled words burned through the noisy shrieks. Both the kipu and Gapp turned to stare at Aleytys.
Again her thumb was caressing her wrist; a small muscle jumped at the corner of her mouth, marring her icy supercilious mask. Inside, she whispered to Harskari to hold hard and she dared gather gloom and deep purple discouragement and hurl it at Gapp like an overripe tomato to splatter over the web of nerve synapse and jerking reflex she called her soul. Gapp shriveled. She wheeled and plunged out of the room in a frantic drive to escape the awful place, followed by an awed and frightened guard.
Aleytys allowed herself a slight smile. She reached out her left hand and tapped gently on the table catching the kipu’s attention. “We have talking to do.” She raised her right hand and turned her pointing forefinger in a slow horizontal circle. “There are too many ears out here.”
CHAPTER X
Aleytys stepped on the footstool and lowered herself into the throne chair in the kipu’s private office. Taking care to make no awkward movements she settled herself in the chair, smoothed the robe into its tiers of formal folds, and nodded at last to the kipu to sit down. Sukall stationed herself next to the archway, her austere face with military rigidity.
Thoughtfully Aleytys probed at the guard. Sukall looked like a pillar of granite. Aleytys stretched her hands over the arms, fingers reaching toward the clawed ends and tapping impatiently when her hands fell short. Sukall. Her surface was a lie. Inside she quivered shapelessly as an amoeba. The veteran guard who had survived her palace years by her clever adaptation to changing circumstance was finding herself abruptly awash in uncertainty. Nurtured in the hothouse of palace throat-cutting and back-stabbing, she suspected that Aleytys was playing a game. Her problem lay in choosing the attitude that promised the biggest return. Still, no one knew how the queen egg would react, especially in such outré circumstances. If the old bitch was coming awake … Gods! A thousand years was a long stranglehold on a people’s spirit. So Sukall floundered and clung to the kipu as the strongest pole in the strengthening maelstrom.
And she’s right, Aleytys thought. The kipu radiated a calm skepticism, a tinge of fear, a very small tinge, and a large helping of curiosity.
“I’m bored.” The words broke the silence. The kipu’s face kept its calm attentive look, but her antennas twitched briefly. “It isn’t enough, that room and the garden.” Aleytys smiled as her fingers traced small circles on the polished wood.
“Birka would like finding you out from behind the walls,” the kipu said softly. “Or Arikin.” She waited for comment but Aleytys simply tapped her fingers on the chair arms, her fingernails clicking lightly in the heavy silence that hung between them. “You’re too vulnerable outside the walls.”
“Mm. No. I think not. It might be a strong advantage for the people of the city to see and touch and know me.” She lifted her hands, pressed the palms together and touched the tips of her joined forefingers against her lips, the longer middle finger fitting just below her nose, then she lowered the hands and rested them palm up on her thighs. Staring thoughtfully down into the palms, she could feel the idea working in the kipu’s mind, feeding her ambitions. “Rumors,” she said thoughtfully, enunciating each syllable with sculptured precision. “Rumors can be more dangerous than guns.”
“An interesting thought. A sudden unannounced excursion. To let the people know their sarrat watches over their welfare.” She smiled. “It will be arranged.”
“Good. I rely on you. Anesh.…” The kipu lifted her head and stared, startled to hear her seldom-used personal name. Ignoring this, Aleytys raised her hands and held them out, lifting t
hem in a graceful arc. “You neglect me, my friend.”
“Neglect?” The kipu relaxed again, waiting alertly for the new developments promised in the words.
“My jewels. I want them. My rings, bracelets. I want them. I find this plainness distasteful. Besides, how can I meet people stripped like a slave?”
“Ah.” The kipu touched her fingers to her forehead and lips. “I am remiss. They will be dispatched immediately to your quarters.” The kipu smiled broadly, with the charm of a hungry shark. “How am I to address you?”
Inside, Aleytys bubbled with appreciation. Force me to make my claim, she thought. Make me say it so she can repudiate the impudence of a slave if she finds it to her advantage. Or see how fast and carefully you can think, came the whisper in the back of her mind accompanied by a vivid purple flash. Shadith winked a cheerful eye at her.
“The name of this body is Aleytys,” she said softly. Once again her hands rested lightly on the chair arms. “Wasn’t it carefully chosen?”
“A thousand worlds were combed to find it.” There was only the slightest touch of sarcasm in the kipu’s voice.
Aleytys bowed her head in appreciation and her mouth twitched into a slight smile. “Then perhaps the best name for the condition here is Damiktana, the chosen one.
“It will be so proclaimed.” The kipu relaxed and watched her with open curiosity. Aleytys felt the confidence flowing into her and pressed her advantage. “I feel that a formal inspection of the mahazh would be appropriate and good for the morale of the services. It has seemed to me that there are those who give … hm … less than their full heart to their sworn leaders. If we studied the rosters … you understand?”
The kipu’s black faceted eyes glittered reflecting the hot interest inside her, responding to the cunning offered her. She turnd her head slightly, focusing a part of her attention on Sukall, then turned back. “The progress must be very carefully planned,” she said slowly.
“Indeed.” Aleytys swept the room with her own eyes. “I think you had better bring the required documents to the garden. We could begin the planning tomorrow.”
“The garden?”
Aleytys hesitated. Then she said firmly, “The garden.”
“Ah.” The nayid placed her six-fingered hands palm to palm. “I’ll join you tomorrow after the morning meal. No rain is forecast. The day should be warm and clear.”
“Beyond this, there might be a council of cityqueens soon.”
Sudden suspicion chilled the kipu’s rising amusement. “You think it necessary? Damiktana?”
“Oh yes. Rumors, as I said before, can be dangerous as well as useful. It would be interesting to see what groupings, subtle groupings, you understand, can be found among them. For the smooth flow of blood in the body clots are dangerous and must be broken up or they lead to strokes, even death to the body. Their reactions to me should be … revealing. Clots in the body politic. There are various medicines that can be injected into the blood to cure this condition. Also at times radical surgery is required. For the health of the body.” She tapped gently on the wood. “The Damiktana would not be present at the council of course, but perhaps a party afterward, music, food, drinks.…”
Aleytys sensed a slow lessening of the skepticism in the kipu, apparently these answers were beginning to convince her since they seemed to fit the old one’s style of devious thought. She almost snorted in disgust. No other life form could be superior to mine … that idea has destroyed more than one, whispered Harskari in the back of her head. Don’t underestimate her, the soft ghost words warned, for this blindness, don’t overestimate the strength of this chauvinism, she got where she is through a shrewd understanding of nayid nature combined with sharp intelligence, watch your own blindness, my dear. The glow vanished, the faint words trailed off, she was on her own again.
Unaware of the whispered commentary, the kipu nodded gravely. “It will be done. Have you other suggestions, Damiktana?”
“Two things. I need clothing suited to this body. And for my feet.” She thrust them from beneath the robe. “You see?”
“Yes?”
“The trader from Starcity could provide these things. It seems wise to me that he be convinced of the wealth and power of the leadership.” She stared coolly into the black eyes. “I have the feeling he would not mind conflict among the cities, since this would create new markets for his arms. Indeed peace would not be very profitable for him so he needs to be gently nudged into a state of righteousness.” She tapped her fingers on the wood. “The orderly transfer of power to be stressed. Touch on both sides of the … shall we say, the difficulty.”
“A good word.” Her antennas twitched jauntily. “I believe we can furnish sufficient personal adornment for your excursion to the market and.…” The expressive antennas dipped forward with alert amusement. “And the expedition through the mahazh. Next week will be soon enough for the trader.
Aleytys brought her hands together. The muscle began jumping again at the corner of her mouth. She stared coldly at the kipu, then with carefully evident effort she curved her lips into a smile. “What must be.…” She looked thoughtfully at her hands, and rested them on the smooth wood of the chair arm. “I will remember.”
“Of course, Damiktana,” the kipu said smoothly then stood up with a bit more relief than she meant to show. “Is there anything else, Any other way I can serve you?”
“Yes. One thing. Or rather, two. Gapp. If she comes for me again, I’ll kill her. Keep that empty-headed voluptuary out of my sight. And while you’re doing that, change the guard on my room. She is insolent, uncooperative and far too susceptible to persuasion from Gapp.”
“Of course.” The kipu called over her shoulder, “Sukall, come here.” She faced Aleytys again. “If you’re finished, Damiktana, I’d best get started processing your suggestions.”
Aleytys dipped her head in a graceful arc.
“Sukall, escort the Damiktana back to her rooms. Remain on guard there and send the present guard to me. Clear?”
“Clear.”
Aleytys watched the kipu back out of the small room, her body curved in mocking exaggeration of respect.
CHAPTER XI
Ignoring the trailing Sukall, Aleytys swept into the bedroom, holding her rising excitement down, clinging to Burash’s instructions … be conscious of your body at all times. Never make an unconsidered movement; never move fast unless absolutely necessary, never never never … she heard the crisp military click-clack of the guard’s boots cross the room behind her, heard the rattle of the rings that held the tapestry, and finally a subdued and brief sound of voices.
Standing posed like a statue in the empty rectangle in the glass wall, looking blank faced at the garden which lay golden and drowsy in the afternoon heat, she heard the faint departing clicks of the hostile blue guard’s boots. Speaking deep in her throat, she drawled softly, “Burash.”
He came through the wall tapestry and stood beside her, his excitement barely restrained, antennas tick-tocking nervously back and forth like an opulent metronome. “Well?”
She walked with slow and stately grace out into the garden, feeling his anxiety and barely contained agitation, hearing his breath coming in harsh short gasps. Slowly she lifted her arms, touched her hair with probing fingers, then she swung around, her face split into an exuberant grin. She tore the pins out of her hair and shook the flaming strands free. “Yes,” she cried. “Yes, yes, yes, she bought it.” She wheeled around and around in a wild dance laughing in time to the pattering of her bare feet on the grass. “She believes it just a little. Sometimes. Just a little but enough, enough, enough.” She threw the words at him over her shoulder, ran her fingers through her hair and danced around him. “Madar, how did the old bitch stand all that posturing? I was ready to scream.” Her words dissolved into laughter again and she ran away from him toward the live oak.
“Leyta.” Burash hastened after her. “Calm down a little.”
She blew a ki
ss at him over her shoulder, then jumped on the low arching limb and ran along it until she was standing out over the middle of the stream. Burash gasped and wrenched his eyes away from her. He stopped running and stood staring resolutely at the grass. For the first time her laughter sounded cruel to him. She was so preoccupied with herself that she’d forgotten all about him. The image of her leaning against the limb shuddered through him and he felt suddenly chilled, alien, left outside, left behind … left behind … the thought tumbled around and around in his head.
Shoulders bent beneath the burden in his mind, eyes on the ground lest he look at that mind-shaking view of Aleytys perched so precariously on her tree limb, he shuffled back toward the mahazh radiating black depression.
A hand touched him. Aleytys, face troubled, stepped in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m a fool. I forgot … ” Her hands touched his arms, his face, his chest with little patting movements. “It’s just that … no. No excuses. Please?”
He caught hold of the distressed fluttering hands and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Sh, Leyta.” His face dropped into quiet sadness. “I suddenly saw the future, our future, just a little too clearly.”
Aleytys tugged her hands free. “Ahai! Why do things have to be so complicated!” She swung around. “Come. Let’s go sit on the bench. We’ve got things to talk about.”
“No. Where we were this morning.” He looked startled. “Only this morning? Seems like a week has passed since then.” He glanced up at the sky. “The sun’s still an hour from setting. Can you believe that?”
Aleytys shook her head soberly, then laughter rose in her. “I missed out on lunch completey. I’m starved.” She put a hand on her stomach. “Hollow! I can feel my backbone from the front.”
He chuckled. “You’ve convinced me of the reality of all this. There’s nothing like a few hunger pangs to restore one to solid earth.”
