A murmur moved like a moaning wind through the crowd, and Mark whipped his head around so hard to stare at Tisianne that he thought he’d snapped his neck. The Doc stood perfectly still, and the blankness of her expression was the giveaway.

“My God, now he’s got to live with that too,” Mark murmured, in his distress losing control of his pronouns.

“Life on your planet has finally given Tis a spine. I’m impressed. I didn’t think she could do it,” Zabb said. His voice redolent with satisfaction, he added, “And it certainly caught Egyon on the hop. That he did not expect out of us.”

The old lady was continuing. “Tell your families, and honor Shaklan with your grief. The city and House will observe three days of mourning beginning tomorrow… May his spirit draw near and guide us.”

“May we do honor for him,” came the litanous response from the assembly.

Briskly the old lady said, “So we dispense with the dead and resume our march to the future.” The sharp old eyes were bent again on Tisianne. “It is clear you are Tisianne, however altered. Welcome home.”

“Thank you,” Tis said, bowing as deeply as her pregnancy would permit.

“On the issue of your elevation this council will convene at midnight and hear the decision of the swords. In the meantime, Taj, you will continue to serve as regent.” The old man rose and bowed, crossed to Tisianne, tucked her arm beneath his, and led her toward the door. The meeting was obviously over.

Mark stood, relieved to have his six-foot-four-inch frame out of a chair designed for midgets, and grabbed convulsively for his briefcase.

“What the hell is a sword?” Jay asked.

“The male head of each distinct breeding line within the family,” Zabb explained.

The crowd eddied about them. Little conversation knots formed and broke, servants threw open doors, accepted a pair of gloves from a passing master, and continued smiling, always smiling. Mark wondered if the Tarhiji were really that happy, or just terrified.

“There are women here,” said Jay suddenly.

“Yes,” Zabb answered,

“And not just the old broads and servants.” Mark winced.

Zabb chuckled. “Yes, so?”

“So where’s the harem?”

“Rarrana is not included in the tour… Unless you’d like to alter your plumbing in exchange for a peek?”

“No thanks, but how come these -”

“They’re sterilized. We don’t keep women in seclusion because they’re women. We keep them there because they’re breeding.”

Zabb swung a chair around with his foot and straddled it. Pulled out the Takisian equivalent of a cigarette case and offered it. Both humans declined. Zabb shrugged, placed the cigarette between his lips, and a servant seemed to come boiling up from beneath a chair to light it.

“Assassination attempts are rarely directed at men. We just settle for them because they’re usually all we can reach, and it’s a convenient way to vent spleen. No, pregnant females are the preferred target. Kill one, and you’ve ruined hundreds of years of careful genetic planning.”

“Gee, the girls must be really touched to know they’re so important.”

“We do value our women,” Zabb said, stung by the sarcasm in the detective’s voice.

“Yeah, as brood mares.”

“Do you ever get to marry for love?” Mark asked.

“We marry for power, we breed for posterity, we love… only rarely.”

“Great culture you got here,” Jay grunted.

They were settled in Tisianne’s old suite. Servants were still arriving with arm-loads of stored furniture, paintings, a computer, musical instruments, holostage. There was at least a lull in the politicking. Tis was slumped on the window seat, staring up at the moonlit glacier crawling like a frozen waterfall over the edge of the cliff. Taj had just entered, and she was giving him her profile.

Coldly she said, “I see you didn’t see fit to preserve my room.”

“I was extremely annoyed with you,” was the unfazed reply. “And as for your father’s office – we went back a lot of years. Also, I was maintaining the illusion he was going to get well someday.”

Tis drew a hand across her forehead. “I’m sorry. Irritability seems to be the domain of pregnant women. Is Skatt coming?”

“On his way.”

“What approach do I take with him? Ideal,” she pushed back her hair, stood, and began to pace. “I don’t know any of these swords. Half of them were children when I was here.”

“There were a lot of deaths forty years ago. A lot of vacancies to fill with too-young candidates. And you’re just a memory, or a figure in a tale to most of them.”

“So they don’t fear me.”

“And you’re not precisely intimidating now.”

Jay looked up from where he was switching channels on the holo. “We could give her a bazooka to hold. The Madonna of the AK-47.”

Tis ignored him. “Where’s Zabb?”

“Delivering a thinly veiled threat to Pshara.”

Tis shook her head. “I wish I could really trust him.” She sighed. “But back to the problem at hand. How do I handle Skatt?”

“Offer him Revenue. He likes money, and he doesn’t respond well to threats.”

“That will annoy Rad’gar.”

“He’s one of Egyon’s pack. Nothing we do will make him happy.”

“And we don’t want him handling the finances anyway,” Tis concluded.

Mark was hanging about the edge of the conversation. At the lull he pushed to her side and took her hand.

“You should, like, take a break. We could… talk.”

She didn’t need to be a telepath to understand his drift. “It’s too fresh to even look at, much less discuss.” She pulled free and walked away.

“It won’t stay bottled up forever,” the ace warned.

“It’s down there with all the other ghouls in the basement. They’ll keep each other occupied until such time as they all break out at once, and I go stark raving mad.”

“Sorry to add to your burdens, your princess-ship,” Jay said. “But just in case I run into Blaise on the street, I better have someplace to send him other than Yankee Stadium. Have you got jails here? Dungeons, whatever? Or will you take deliveries here?”

Tis looked to her uncle. “Do we still have the holding cells in the labs? Where we tested the Enhancer on prisoners?”

“Yes. We still occasionally use them,” Taj said.

“Take Mr. Ackroyd there. Let him see the cells.”

“May I ask why?”

“No,” Tis said shortly.

There was a tap on the door. They both glanced toward it.

“You can handle Skatt without my guidance?” Taj asked.

“I think I can manage.”

Taj bowed and led Jay out another door of the suite.

Tis nodded to a servant, and the carved double door was opened. Arranging her features into a smile of welcome, Tis moved with what grace she could muster to greet him. Evaluated the warmth of admiration in his green eyes as he studied her physical charms. Pretty warm. She gave his fingers a slight squeeze and drew him toward a settee. She was definitely getting the hang of this body.

“This is really charming and intimate. Dinner in an airplane hangar with five or six hundred of your closest relatives.”

“It’s prettier than that,” Mark protested.

“Okay, dinner in a baroque barn. Jesus, do they have to feed this herd at every meal? Doesn’t anybody have a hot plate in their room? Wish I had a hot plate in my room.”

“The Doc needs us here.”

“Bullshit. Even our little princess for a day couldn’t wrangle us a seat at the head table. If shit starts happening, Tachy’s toast.”

Mark wasn’t having any part of Jay’s bad mood, and that pissed the detective off even more. Placidly the gawky ace took another bite of highly spiced meat and mumbled around the mouthful, “You’ll have her out of harm’s way in an instant. I’m not worried.”

“Glad one of us isn’t.”

“I think this is pretty impressive,” Mark said, indicating the dining room.