“Vayawand has just destroyed Alaa’s moon base. There appear to be no survivors.”

“Shit.”

“Alaa is attempting to retaliate, but Raiyis Blaise had troops already massed on the border. There’s heavy fighting in Alaak.”

“Great, that’s where we’re headed.”

“You maybe,” the man said. “I’m getting off in Fanja.”

“Hastet benasari Julali has closed her restaurant. Isn’t that interesting?”

The so-casual way Taj asked the question put Tisianne on guard. Slowly she dropped the re’ba’bi and bow and rested them on her knees. Pandasala had done a good job creating the illusion Tis was still pregnant, but the padding dragged at her weary, aching body. The bed was beckoning, and fourteen hours after her grueling labor had ended, Tis was in no mood to be entertaining. Especially with the news coming out of Alaa. Surely Jay would have heard and made adjustments to the plan.

She forced her attention back to Taj. “Is there some reason this should interest me?”

“Your human is very interested in Hastet.”

“Jay is very interested in women. Did you like that music? It’s Mozart, a human composer who I think stands up well to Takisian comparisons.”

“Very nice.” Taj stood and wandered the room, paused to handle an exquisite antique vase. “I haven’t seen Ackroyd brant Lois for several days.”

Tis shrugged and reminded herself to push off awkwardly from the settee. She waddled toward the table. Taj was suddenly blocking her way.

“Spare me the performance, nephew” And gripping the neck of her gown, he yanked, ripping it away to reveal the padding.

For a long moment they matched looks, then Tis pulled the mutilated edges of her gown together. “How long have you known?”

“M.I.S. has been on her since your human first became involved.”

“I could have trusted you,” Tis mused.

“No. If I’d known in advance, I would have stopped you. But once you’d succeeded so brilliantly, I couldn’t bear to interfere. It was a routine psi scan early yesterday morning that revealed your mental signature.” Taj ended with a shrug.

Tis slowly removed the disguising padding and laid it aside on the bed. “I realize you must show diligence for Zabb,” she said slowly, then looked at Taj. “But I thank you for the time you did give them.”

She held back nothing during the interrogation save her sisters’ involvement in the plot. She hoped her candor would keep Zabb out of her head. It hadn’t worked. Zabb twisted everything from her mind. Not content with the details of the plot, he absorbed, dissected, and examined her life, dreams, goals, hopes, and fears. So now she added to an aching body an aching psyche. It was mind rape, and she flung the accusation at her tormentor as she struggled to break the psychic embrace.

The harrowing of her mind ended, and Zabb flung himself back into his chair behind the Raiyis’s desk and glared at her. His cheeks flew two angry spots of color.

“I should kill you,” he said finally. “I should have killed you seventy years ago.” He sighed.

“Mark is right,” Tis said. “You’re not going to kill me, so why don’t you stop bleating out this pointless and meaningless threat?”

Zabb didn’t answer. Instead he sent out a telepathic summons for Taj. The former regent responded quickly. Entering the office, he bowed.

“My lord.”

“Mobilize M.I.S. I want agents in every city with an orbital elevator. We may still be in time to catch them -”

“Burning Sky, Zabb! I can’t believe you are being this stupid!” Tis said. “Blaise is mobilizing an army against us. Not a normal strike force, an army. There is combat in the streets and homes of our cities. Families that have refused to acknowledge Blaise and his new order have been eradicated. And now Blaise has introduced us to the wonders of modern human warfare – he has used atomics against a civilian target. Let’s hope he doesn’t become bored with baiting us. Otherwise we will find ourselves forming the slag at the bottom of a radioactive crater.”

“Not as long as you’re alive,” Taj said. “Much of this is being staged for your benefit, and it’s you Blaise wants.”

Tis glanced at Zabb. “There, you see? An excellent reason for not killing me. The point is, nothing like this disaster has ever occurred in our history, and you’re wasting spies trying to locate one tiny baby? I hope you enjoy being the last Raiyis of the House Ilkazam. Your deeds may be worth a ship song. Ideal knows the Zal’hma at’ Irg won’t remember you.”

“She’s right,” Taj said.

Zabb slumped, and for one brief instant Tis saw the fear and irresolution of a man who has grasped his dream and watched it metamorphose into catastrophe. Then the mask was back in place, and Zabb studied Tisianne as if he’d never seen her before. The silence went on and on.

“So what do we do?” Zabb finally asked. It wasn’t what Tis had expected, and from Zabb’s expression it probably wasn’t what he’d intended to say either. Tisianne wondered how much this admission of helplessness had cost him.

She answered, “The first thing I’m doing is leaving Rarrana and returning to my suite -”

“You can’t, you’re -”

“I’m not, and I won’t be. I’ve had the baby, so I’m no longer a breeding female, and since no one in their right mind would breed with this body, there’s nothing here to protect. I cannot be kept confined.”

Taj quirked an eyebrow at Zabb. “She’s right again.”

To her uncle Tis said, “From you I need an arms master. I must get this body back in shape.”

“Going to fight with us, Tis?” Zabb asked with bitter sarcasm.

“Probably not. As you have so rightly pointed out, I have little aptitude for it. But there are things I can do. The reports from Alaak indicate a great many civilian casualties -”

“And how do you know that?”

“Taj.” Zabb’s expression promised strong words to his elder relative and statesman in the not too distant future. “At any rate, I am a doctor. I can organize emergency field hospitals in Ilkala and the other cities. I think we should evacuate the children to the rural areas – foster them with farm families. Run air-raid drills, designate shelters, appoint bomb wardens, and institute universal conscription.”

“And hope they don’t defect to Blaise at the first opportunity,” Zabb grunted.

“Tarhiji died on Fel’k,” Tis said. “A lot of them. They may be more reticent about wanting to fight for my grandson.”

“An active aristocracy is not something the Tarhiji are accustomed to,” Taj said.

“There are a good many things none of us are accustomed to, but they are happening. I would suggest it is time to adapt or die.”

Taj glanced to Zabb. “Again… she’s right.”

Zabb made a note with a light stylus. “I’ll assign a squad of my personal guard to assist you.”

Tis’s lip twisted. “Don’t worry, Zabb, I won’t foment revolution against you.”

He looked up. “I never thought you would. I do it for your protection.” Tis just smiled. Zabb wrote again. “And I’ll give you that Vayawand traitor. As long as we’re feeding him, he may as well be useful.”

She rose, shook out her skirts, and started for the door. “Tis,” Zabb called. She paused and glanced back. “If you’re going to have an arms master, you had better be armed.” He tossed her a blaster pistol. Tis caught it out of the air. “If Blaise ever does enter this House, there are some conditions over which death might be a decided improvement.”

Hastet and Jay and a lot of other people stood on the platform and watched the back end of the train vanishing out of the main station of Fanja. Jay was getting a fucking tour of fucking Takis, and not getting to see a thing except the inside of railway stations. He wished he had a map. Where the hell was House Fannija?”

“So where’s another elevator from here… wherever here is?” Jay asked.