Two Human females greeted them, draped in the most unusual clothing that they had ever seen. That they were colorful was beyond a doubt. One used different shades of green, the other blue. Somehow the long flowing sleeves and floor length skirts were iridescent in scenes of strange buildings, forests, and mountains, all sewn with threads of silver and gold. Jewels fit perfectly into the art as eyes, or pebbles in bird's beaks.
Roth knew the Human Amanda Kutter the best. This Human was always asking questions about how services and goods were exchanged among the clans. Today, she swung a graceful arm to point them deeper into the balcony. Cloth hung from the arm to just past her knees. The scenes on it were of flying, swimming, and fluttering creatures from the Humans’ worlds.
Roth and the other eleven Iteeche followed the two Human women down a winding path. They paused to gaze into a small pond here, a calm pool there. In each swam fish of many varieties and so very many colors, each one of them unique to themselves. There were so many different patterns of whites, golds, silvers, reds, and oranges. Also, along the stone path were those strange stretches of sand, marked by different patterns that whispered gently of calm and harmony.
Meanwhile, everywhere, there were greens of many different shades from dark trees with needles for leaves to delicate things where the green was almost overcome by yellow. Throughout the stroll, flowers bloomed, scenting the air.
Often, Roth went to his own garden to calm himself after a long day of dealing with the other clans. Of course, he also made sure that his garden was very capable of impressing. Every clan chief spent much time and effort on their garden, competing to have the most impressive backdrop for any meetings between them and their clan chief associates.
The Humans, once more, had taken an Iteeche idea and run with it until they had enough speed to leap off the planet and into space. Part of Roth’s mind raged at being outdone, even as most of Roth was calmed and soothed by this unique display of delicate beauty.
Despite himself, Roth was impressed. He found himself going within, finding his center, and calming. The Humans had done the Iteeche Way very well.
Finally, the twelve were ushered into the presence of the Human they had come to meet. Never had Roth seen such a display by the Human, Kris Longknife. Never.
18
Kris Longknife relished the looks of surprise on the faces of the twelve Iteeche clan chiefs as they followed Abby and Amanda into her presence. She watched them, however, through lowered lashes, keeping her head down. At the moment, they seemed too awestruck to bow. She certainly wasn't going to go first.
On the drop from the space station, she had considered all sorts of different clothing options for this meeting. She'd thought back to all the various styles that Humans had used to dress and impress. Clearly, the robes these clan chiefs would be wearing to meet her would be fancy with the intent to impress upon her just how important they were.
She doubted that they'd drag out their formal court dress. No. That was worn to impress each other while they made their show of subservience to the Emperor. It might be a sham, but it was a very fancy sham.
After reviewing all that she'd seen Roth wear in his garden and what all of them wore when attending her reception, she had thought long and hard. Then she remembered the 600 year old kimono that she had warn to attend the Tea Ceremony the Emperor of Musashi had invited her to. Being an unmarried woman at the time, Kris had not worn an actual kimono.
No. What women wore was divided by their wedding date. After marrying, women wore more traditional kimonos. Before the big day, young women had to wear a furisode. They were kimonos, but with a lot more artistry.
A furisode not only had extraordinary art on it, there was more cloth to put it on. Their sleeves were long, reaching past their knees. With an apology to Japanese tradition, Kris decided to dress herself and her ladies in waiting in furisodes even if they were all married women with kids.
Now, Abby and Amanda came to stand to Kris's right and left. They opened their arms, all three of them, to greet their guests. The spectacular artwork that the Iteeche clan chiefs saw began on the left sleeve of Abby's furisode and swept across the skirt to her right sleeve. There, it was picked up by Kris's gown and from there, it went on to finish on the right sleeve of Amanda's.
The picture the Iteeche saw was both colorful and delicate. Fish and birds shared the tableau with butterflies and flowers. It was a lovely landscape of old Earth, executed to perfection as only Nelly could do it. The feathers of the birds and the fins of the fish shimmered iridescent in the sunlight as if the dust of diamonds, rubies, and emeralds had been sown into the cloth. Where the artwork didn't take precedence, the cloth sparkled with threads of gold and silver.
Kris was used to carrying thirty kilos of weapons and armor. Today, this outfit was heavier.
The motif of the furisode was carried over to the pavilion Kris had erected to give them some shade from the afternoon sun. The sides and backs of the tent-like arrangement were broken into strips that flowed and curved in the gentle breeze. Those along the back were transparent so that the Clan Lords could look past the left of Abby's opened hands to take in the view of the Imperial Palace.
Kris suppressed a smile at the Iteeche clan chiefs. Most of them were dressed in bold colors in robes that might fit somewhere in an ancient Asian court of one sort or another. There was artwork also displayed on their robes, but it was much simpler than what she wore. It was almost stylized. It left Kris wondering if Nelly's artwork was breaking new ground or resurrecting an out-of-fashion art form.
Now that all twelve Clan Chiefs and their three aides had arrived, Kris gave her two friends a three-count, then they all knelt on the brightly colored, brocade cushion laid out before them. Down on their knees, they rearranged all the layers of their furisode using video feed from one of Nelly's microdrone cameras.
Satisfied, the three of them rested back on their heels and continued to keep a meditative silence, their eyes downcast.
In front of them, the twelve Iteeche clan chiefs found themselves confronted with two rows of six small cushions suitable for them to kneel on. There were no lounging cushions or pillows as they preferred, and, unlike Kris, none of them traveled with their own supply of the magic metal. Even if they did, they had no one to program it into serving their purposes.
Several tried to kick one of the rear cushions up to the front row. However, it turned out that the cushions were not going to move. Indeed, if kicked too hard, they melted into the floor. While the Iteeche stared at the vacant spot where it had been, it slowly rose again from the floor in its original space.
No one bothered to kick a cushion after that.
The clan chiefs finally shook themselves out according to their own pecking order and knelt. The cushions were small, fit for a Human's two knees or the front two knees of an Iteeche. As soon as they knelt, the cushions grew to a U shape that supported all four knees of an Iteeche.
Roth kept Ron at his elbow as did the other two major clan chiefs who had advisors on Human matters.
Done, they found themselves joining the Humans in gazing down. Only then did they hear the growing roar of waves on a beach and songbirds trilling in the bushes. Despite the driving intent that brought them here, they found themselves taking long, deep breaths. Strange, none of them felt compelled to break the quiet to give the Human admiral the angry words they'd come to burn her with.
It was a long five minutes before Kris raised her gaze to the clan chiefs. "You wished to have a meeting with me. I apologize for having time for only a single meeting. I suspect you all wish to discuss the same things. If I am wrong, feel free to remain after the others leave and I will listen to your concern."
"Yes, wise and victorious Admiral Commanding the Imperial Combined Fleets," Roth began for them, "we wish to offer you ships for your fleet."
"And we want first pick of the plumb positions on the planets our ships take for you," added someone from the second row.
&
nbsp; Kris didn't recognize the Clan Chief with the bad manners, but she didn't much care.
"This is so very embarrassing," Kris said, finding that wearing the furisode was infecting her thoughts and language. Or maybe it was the calming effects of the garden. Whatever it was, she continued smoothly, "The fleet presently exercising today between the Capital Planet and its most distant moon are all that I can command effectively. It totals some seven thousand Iteeche and Human battlecruisers. Any larger will make the formation most ungainly."
"We can match the sixty-four hundred raised by the minor clans that now show pretensions that are unbecoming people of their low rank," Roth snapped.
"Yes, Most Eminent Chooser," Kris said, "but these ships are available today. Today they are training with my experienced ships and learning my ways of war. I do not wish to delay. The recent disagreeable state here in the capital has given the rebels a vacation they do not deserve. We must end it before they get too complacent. After all, as you mentioned to me yesterday, they have already had the gall to take back what we took from them fair and square."
Kris was not surprised that her humor went straight past the clan chiefs.
"We could have the fleet available tomorrow. Maybe later this evening," Roth offered.
"That is very good of you," Kris said, again wondering who she was channeling. "May I suggest that you guard the Imperial Capital System as you proposed yesterday?”
Roth glanced to both sides, then behind him at the six Clan Chief kneeling there. "We want to conquer planets, not sit on our duffs."
Kris let Roth's demand hang in the air while the birds chirped their song. Finally, she said, "Might you have one of your admirals take command of your fleet and strike out to capture one or two other planets? I showed you several pairs or trios that I could think of to attack and capture. If you will pick one of them, I will pick my own from the others."
"Which ones were they, again?" Roth asked.
Some of the murmuring behind him showed division among the clan chiefs. Some wanted to continue pushing to replace Kris's present fleet. Others were interested in getting their hands on spoils whichever way they could.
The Iteeche Empire appeared in a holograph between them. The capital glowed golden on one side of the collection of over 3,000 planets. Few, however, were circled in gold to show that they produced more than their people needed to survive at the hideous population levels the Iteeche quickly filled up a planet with.
A few more were surrounded by two circles. They were the most productive planets in the Empire. It was their shipyards that spun out most of the tens of thousands of battlecruisers that fought this war. The two groups were divided by colors. Blue for the loyalists. Red showed the planets the rebels held.
The split was close to 60/40 for the Emperor. However, that could change quickly.
Above the closest productive planets, numbers began to appear. For the moment, they showed only the number of jumps needed to leap from the capital to them. A moment later, numbers also appeared below them. They showed the number of jumps from that plant to the nearest industrial one.
"If you will pick the one pair you want to assault, I will choose from the others," Kris offered calmly.
A debate immediately broke out. Kris knew that each clan had septs and cadet branches on either side of the rebellion. What she didn't know was that if a planet was captured, the clans replaced their people on a one-for-one basis. Thus, if Abba had the Planetary Overlord, they got to swap the bad rebel one with a nice loyal one.
Certain clans wanted certain planets attacked.
The parties in favor of this or that planet formed, grew, shrank and shifted as the Clan Lords horse traded for the best result for them. In the course of the eager deliberation, the Clan Lords stood up to make their point more strongly.
Kris was not about to stay kneeling while those guys towered over her. She and her handmaidens rose. Indeed, Nelly raised a platform for them, then, as the talking went on and on, she raised two more steps and made it a dais.
Kris ordered up chairs. She got an extra step to put hers higher than Abby or Amanda and the three of them sat down together.
ANYBODY FOR A GAME OF BRIDGE? Kris asked.
I'D SAY CHESS, BUT ONE OF US WOULD GET STUCK PLAYING AGAINST NELLY," Abby said.
OKAY, ANYONE GOT A REPORT FOR ME? ABBY?
SORRY, KRIS, BUT THINGS ARE HUMMING ALONG AS WELL AS CAN BE EXPECTED. NO MORE THAN THE USUAL SURPRISES. INTEL TELLS ME THAT THE CHATTER SHOWS A LOT OF THE CLAN LORDS AND LORDLINGS DON'T MUCH CARE FOR US, BUT THE FOLKS ON THE STREET ARE ENJOYING THE SONGS ABOUT YOUR EXPLOITS. IF THEY ACTUALLY LET THE COMMON FOLKS VOTE ON ANYTHING, YOU'D LIKELY WIN.
SADLY, ONLY THE VOTES OF THE CLAN LORDS GET COUNTED, Kris muttered in her head. AMANDA, HOW'S THE INVESTIGATION OF THE EMPIRE'S ECONOMICS GOING?
NOT BAD, KRIS. WE STILL THINK THE TRADE AT THE CLAN LORDS LEVEL IS BARTER AND HORSE TRADING. JUST LOOK AT THIS SHOW! HOWEVER, WE'RE BEGINNING TO DISCOVER A MONETARY SYSTEM AT THE LEVEL OF THE COMMON PEOPLE. THEY GET PAID IN PAPER MONEY. THEY USE THAT TO BUY FOOD AND PAY THE RENT. IF SOMEONE WANTS TO BUILD AN APARTMENT COMPLEX, THERE MAY BE HORSE TRADING TO GET SOME LAND TO BUILD ON. THE CAPITAL DOESN'T HAVE ANY UNUSED LAND. IF YOU WANT TO BUILD SOMETHING, YOU HAVE TO TEAR SOMETHING DOWN AND THAT'S USUALLY SOMEWHERE ON THE BORDER IN A CLAN DISTRICT. THE BORDERS BETWEEN CLAN DISTRICTS IS WHERE A LOT OF THE MINOR FAMILIES SURVIVE.
Amanda went on. Kris found the unique process the Iteeche had developed to husband and divide up scarce resources very interesting. She'd learned basic economics at her father's knee, listening in on the discussions he had with other politicians, labor leaders, and industrialists. She knew the process was critical to success.
The Iteeche emphasis on expanding their population without reference to the resources available was crippling the empire. Planets that were barely getting by on a subsistence level might have a rich asteroid belt they could exploit, but there was nothing left over after feeding the last mouth to do anything about it.
This conversation could have gone on for several hours, but the Iteeche clan chiefs were finishing up their pissing contests and horse trades. Kris had to focus on them.
They chose a large and productive system, the Golden Flying Fish. It was only four jumps from the Capital. They intended to grab it and dash to the Golden Giant Squid System. It was only of middling production. It showed one ring, but it was only three jumps away.
"This will be our chosen strike," Roth said, speaking for all. "What set of planets will you attack?"
"I haven't made up my mind," Kris said, refusing to give up operational security in a room full of Iteeche that would likely sell her out if offered the position of dog catcher on a subsistence planet.
Okay. The Iteeche didn't have dogs. They couldn't afford the lost calories. Maybe an offer of Chief of the Sewage Plant would suffice. Now that might get her battle plan handed over to anyone asking for it.
"Then it is agreed," Kris said. "Your fleet will attack those two planets and my fleets will leave as soon as possible to attack a different planet."
"I have spent much time with my chosen one, Ron," Roth said. "He has told me that you can make our ships more destructive. One of yours can fight three rebel ships and destroy them all."
"That has happened several times," Kris admitted.
"Would you please do whatever it is that you do for our fleet before we sail?"
At least the "please" was present even if it was mighty weak.
"I am so sorry, Roth, but I fear I must decline. Such changes to ships are not done easily and they require that I draw from limited resources. Ron's flotillas have already been brought up to my standards, but I do not see a way that I could do that for any more ships before I depart."
Which was not a total lie. She wanted to sortie soon and all of Nelly's kids were concentrating on her own fleet.
"I am told," Ron said, cautiously "that it just involves tightening down the lasers in the cradles the
builders left them loose in."
"Yes, you are right, Ron," Kris said, still letting the kimono bind her to a gentler way. More harmony. "I fear that the rebels have used the time I've been involved here to have programmers tightening down the guns on their ships. You should have no problem doing the same."
"Our programmers are not able to make the necessary adjustments to the guns," Ron spat.
That left Kris puzzled. "Ron, now that the programmers know about the problem, they should have no problem correcting them."
Ron turned to his Chooser, as if passing the question along to Roth.
The eminent Imperial Counselor shrugged both shoulders. "As you have shown, our computers are not as fast as yours and they process data differently."
Kris nodded.
"Your Human programmers took their computers with them when they left. We can spin out ships exactly the way we have built them. We just can't make anything but the most routine changes in them after they are commissioned."
Kris gave her Iteeche guests the most puzzled look. "The Human programmers have left?"
"Yes," Roth answered for all.
"When?" Kris asked. How could all of the Humans scattered throughout the Empire have picked up their computers and gone home without her hearing about it?
"Two or three months ago," Ron answered. "We canceled their visas and they left on the first available ship. We also ordered our power plant engineers to return from Human space.”
Kris had only a moment to consider the question that flashed across her mind. How did Grampa Alex take to losing those engineers? No doubt, his spies provided him with all he needed to know about building the unique power plants that produced many times the power that they'd gotten from the previous Human design.
There was something seriously wrong between the Empire and Human space. All the bridges that they'd built between their worlds were down now. The sole Human presence in the Empire was Kris's embassy. How long would that last?
Kris Longknife Stalwart Page 13