Jay wasn’t interested in geology. A city nestled like a starling in the circle of mountains. The predominant impression was of towers. Towers of all types and descriptions. Round towers, pointed towers, bell-like cupolas, some of them actually twisted like blown glass. And the colors. Jay couldn’t tell if they’d been painted or if the stone actually came in these bewilderingly brilliant shades. There was a clear delineation where the older section ended and modern architecture began. The styles remained the same, but there was more glass in the newer buildings.
Finally there was some reaction from Tachyon. She let out a funny little hiccuping cry, but whether of grief or joy Jay couldn’t tell. “The music center. It’s gone.” She spoke English. Jay knew it was unconscious. Knew it would drive her crazy if she knew.
Zabb had that smile that Jay had learned to distrust. It meant something really unpleasant was about to emerge from between his teeth, and it was always directed at Tachyon.
In his heavily accented English he said. “I’m afraid it was one of the casualties of the Vayawand assault.”
“They attacked the city?” The concept seemed to completely shock Tachyon. Jay didn’t know why. Wasn’t that what war was all about?
“Unfortunately a number of House were attending a concert. Fortunately I wasn’t. After your father turned himself into a vegetating hulk, someone had to lead the defense. Fifteen families arrayed against us.”
Only you could have defeated those odds,” Bazzakra said in Takisian.
Ass kisser, thought Jay, and Why is asshole number two speaking English? The ace then looked at Tachyon, her eyes drowned in misery, and he understood. Zabb wanted the humans to know he was tormenting his cousin, wanted to see if they would react. Was daring them to react. As Jay watched, a spark of fury burned away grief in the girl’s gray eyes. “I will not be burdened with this guilt.”
’Bout time, thought Jay.
“I wasn’t here. Perhaps I should have been, but my presence wasn’t going to lessen the damage done to Ilkala.” She indicated the city with a wave of a hand.
“The damage was foredestined when we initiated the ill-conceived experiment.”
“If you’d allowed us to test the virus properly -”
“It wouldn’t have made any difference!”
“That’s excusatory crap!” Zabb shouted. “The meta-Takisian powers that the virus would have provided us, coupled with our psionic gifts, would have made us the undisputed rulers of Takis.”
“No, she’s right,” said Mark softly. “On Earth we’ve had the wild card for almost fifty years, and guns and bombs are a match for any ace. It’s like John Lennon said, man, we’ve just gotta give peace a chance.”
“Taj and my father should have seen this attack coming,” Tachyon argued. “Our culture is poised on a knife’s edge of malice, rivalry, and self-interest. You threaten to upset the balance of power that completely, and of course the other families are going to attack.”
Baz broke in with an agitated burst of singsong. Pissed, Jay decided, because he couldn’t understand. Tachyon and Zabb twittered back, but there were sudden odd pauses, and Jay realized it was because they had switched to House talk, which relied rather heavily on telepathy. Jay just hoped that Zabb wasn’t stealing the family farm from Tach’s weakly shielded human brain. Over the years Tachyon had kept stressing that there was a very strong code of etiquette governing telepathic eavesdropping, but Jay didn’t trust Zabb. A month with the guy had left no doubt – he was a total dickweed.
Tach turned back to her human companions, pressed a hand against the swell of her pregnancy as if holding back nausea. “Baz says there’s a claimant to the Raiyis’tet who is trying to end the regency. I really did return just in time.” The soft chin stiffened. “And now that I am home, it is time I dropped the groundling name and assumed my proper identity. I am Tisianne brant Ts’ara sek Halima sek Ragnar sek Omian. Prince of House Ilkazam.”
“Okay, man, like, I’m with you.” Mark nodded several times for emphasis, then glanced back out the window, and his breath caught with all the wonder of a four-year-old coming downstairs to find the Christmas tree up and the presents waiting. “Oh, it’s so cool!”
Jay pressed his nose to the window, eager to see. During the talk they had flashed across the basin of the caldera and were now back in the mountains. The ship raced through a winding canyon, careful to remain below the level of the cliffs, and coming far too close to the rock walls for Jay’s taste. Carved out of the stone were dwellings. At least Jay assumed they were dwellings – if not, someone had gone to a lot of trouble to cut pillars and lancet windows for an elaborate facade. They rounded a final curve, and suddenly a house lay revealed, coiling like a crystal-and-marble dragon’s tail across a high mountain meadow. Like the first structures they’d seen, part of it was carved from the rose-colored cliff face.
Below that frowning fortress the land had been terraced to form pretty gardens filled with flowers, blossoming trees, and fountains. Despite the flowers, Jay had a feeling it was late autumn in Ilkazam. The leaves of the trees flashed winter fire and lay like colorful scattered scarves on the grass.
Bordering each garden were more buildings with no interlinking architectural style. Most of them were colorful with plenty of windows. Most extended no higher than two stories.
With one awesome exception. A single tower, which looked as if it had been built from smoky crystal, pointed warningly toward the sky, and as he stared down the length of that narrow valley, Jay decided he never wanted to experience a windstorm in the needle. The cliffs had to create a hellacious wind-tunnel effect, and that building would be swaying like a ten-dollar hooker on six-inch heels.
A wall surrounded this improbable edifice, and it seemed like a pretty archaic and wimpy way to hold back enemies in a spacefaring culture. Jay said as much, and Mark nudged him with an elbow, indicating guard posts on the cliffs. Jay looked closer and saw the blunt muzzles of weapons thrusting like alligator snouts from the cracks and fissures in the cliff wall.
“Lasers,” whispered Mark. “Big ones by the look of it. Missile silos, and there’s a flickering in the air over that wall – maybe a forcefield?”
“Fairy-tale palace with great big horror-movie teeth,” grunted Ackroyd. “Clad we’re invited. I’d hate to crash this party.”
“Burning Sky, you are Tisianne,” Taj said, and there was no joy in the words.
The regent of the House Ilkazam dropped his head into his hands and tugged nervously at the hair over his temples. Tisianne had known his uncle a long time. For this terribly refined, terribly controlled man, this was the equivalent of hysterics.
What was it Jay had said about invited guests? thought Tisianne. But the invitation was most grudgingly offered. The kind of invitation you issue to unexpected drop-ins and shirttail relatives. Somehow my arrival here has made a bad situation worse.
There had been no honor guard, just a single equerry with a couple of Tarhiji soldiers to whisk them through back doors and forgotten hallways to the office of the Raiyis. The pair of guards flanking the elaborate double doors had insisted the travelers be scanned even though Tis told them repeatedly it wouldn’t do any good. The three human bodies were outside the genetic mapping of Takis. Jay had taken it with ill grace, yelping loudly at the pinprick as blood was withdrawn from his wrist, and had spent the next few minutes muttering about alien poisons and precious bodily fluids. Finally the infrared trip wires, which flashed across the door at random and ever-changing heights and angles, were disconnected, and they entered.
Though opulent, the office was clearly a space designed for a busy man to work, and work efficiently. For an instant Tis wondered if her human companions were disappointed. Then she forgot all about them and their reactions. It struck hard and deep as a blow that nothing in the room had changed since Tis had stood here before his father forty-four Earth years ago and shouted bitter defiance into that beloved face. They were the last words they had ever spoken to each other.