Planetary Parlay

by Cameron Cooper

  “Ah, a conservative approach to entertainment,” Rayhel said, letting his gaze sweep over us. “A wise choice.”

  We were conservative? I glanced at Dalton. He was scowling and wouldn’t look at me, although I know he’d seen my glance from the corner of his eye.

  I let it go and turned my attention back to Rayhel Melissa. “You were waiting for us, Rayhel Melissa?”

  “Just Rayhel, please.” He gave me the same humor filled smile he had used this morning.

  “We were admiring your Parliamentary Palace,” I told him, not waiting for Jai to step in and carry the conversation. “Is the room behind you…is that the Assembly?”

  “It is the room where the Assembly meets, yes,” Rayhel replied. “But the room is also used for other purposes, including dinner, tonight. This is a humble building, in keeping with the Resurrection Accord. And I am here to greet you as the humble deputy Director of the Assembly.” He gave a bow of his head, a very shallow one.

  “You honor us by opening your parliamentary building to us,” Jai said.

  I should have said something like that, I realized.

  Rayhel’s smile was openly humorous, this time. “It was an easy honor to extend. As you will learn, this island chain is the only inhabited area anywhere on Earth. The Assembly meets here because…well, we are all of the Earth, are we not?” He didn’t wait for a response. “It takes major negotiations to be permitted to land on Earth, these days, and usually, permission is denied. Traffic is controlled and can only land in a handful of locations. Many argued that you should be hosted somewhere other than our most precious and abused home world.”

  I was staring at him. I suspect everyone was.

  “This is the only inhabited place in the entire globe?” Arati Georgeson repeated, sounding stunned.

  “Indeed,” Rayhel confirmed. “Earth was nearly lost to us, once. The environment just barely survived and only because of extreme measures.”

  “How extreme?” Lyth, the historian scientist, asked.

  “Very,” Rayhel shot back.

  “Every human was removed from Earth and relocated elsewhere,” Slate said. “The work took three years, and when it was done, Earth was left alone to lick her wounds and recover as she may, without the impact of humans and their by-products trampling all over her.”

  I got the impression that Slate was quoting. Probably from a textbook. His words had a propagandist feel to them.

  Mace was frowning. So was Lyth. I would ask them what bothered them, later.

  “And you let us come here?” Jai asked, sounding a little awed.

  Rayhel’s smile faded a little. “There were many who did not want you here,” he said flatly. “But then, we could find no other world that would consider hosting you, either. And as we suspect you may be as human as us, and your ancestors were of this world, too, we have opened up this tiny part of Earth so you may see your birthright.”

  He turned and moved over to the big doors. “Shall we?”

  We all drifted toward the doors. Under my breath, I said to Jai, “I don’t know if I was just insulted or patted on the head.”

  “Both, I think,” Jai replied just as softly. “This will be an interesting evening.”

  —13—

  The doors swung open easily under Rayhel’s push, revealing the space beyond. It was hard to call it a room. It was a chamber, and might even have echoed like one, if it had been made of more robust, harder materials. But the organic walls muffled sound and made the room feel very warm, especially after being outside.

  The light in here originated from lamps that burned real flames just as the sconces outside the room did. They illuminated a room that took up all the space inside the walls. It was longer than it was wide, and followed the same oval shape as the building itself.

  Down the middle of the room sat a two-meter-wide table, with chairs lining either side. I would have to walk the length of the table to be sure, but I thought it might be fifteen meters long.

  Standing to one side of the table were the two other people who had been introduced to us that morning on the steps, their translator assistants behind them. Belfon Constantine, the Director of the Assembly, wore a matching jacket and pants which appeared to be matt black and unadorned. As a consequence, he stood out in that room of glitter and grandeur. He still did not look happy.

  Beside him stood Isuma Florin and she was…adorned.

  She wore a gown of pure white that gleamed every time she moved. It clung to her as her purple ensemble had this morning, but it swathed her right down to the feet, instead of falling from the hips. Long sleeves clung to her arms from wrist to shoulder bone, but the dress stopped there, revealing her shoulders and neck. It also plunged in the center. The plunge stopped level with her hips.

  I frankly stared, for I couldn’t understand how she kept the dress in place.

  Dalton leaned toward me. “Hey, Terrans have navels, too!”

  I elbowed him and fell in behind Jai, Gratia, Arati Georgeson, Peter Kole and Kristiana, as they moved to stand before us, as the diplomats in our parties.

  “Oh, you bought the wolves!” Isuma Florin cried, bringing her hands together. No gloves, tonight. She leaned forward. “Are they friendly? Like dogs?”

  “Dogs?” Mace said sharply. “You have dogs?”

  “Small breeds only,” Rayhel said. “And none of them remain on Earth, of course.”

  “Are we to dine with just the three of you?” Jai asked.

  “We thought to minimize the stress of this first evening,” Isuma replied with an airy wave. “Tomorrow, you will meet the core of the Assembly and our diplomats and administrators.” She looked down at Coal. “May I meet one of your wolves? All of them?” Her eyes shone with pleasure as she looked from one parawolf to the other. She bent to peer at Coal, beside Jai, who was the closest parawolf to her.

  Vara pressed against my leg. She didn’t like Isuma Florin’s scrutiny. Or the brightness of her.

  I thrust my fingers into Vara’s fur to reassure her.

  Coal’s tail was down.

  “Perhaps when the wolves have got used to the room and your scent, they will be happy to meet you,” Jai said carefully.

  Isuma stood, showing only a touch of disappointment. “We so look forward to speaking with you.” She waved toward the table. “Please, sit. There is no assigned seating tonight.”

  They assigned seats, normally? That was a novel idea.

  We moved toward the table, but the Drigu among us moved faster. Kamil managed to walk ahead of me and still follow my lead. She must have eyes in the back of her head. As I drifted around the other side of the table from where Isuma and Constantine were taking their seats, so did Kamil. When I made for a chair, she got there first and pulled the chair out for me, just as all the other Drigu were doing. Even Isuma and Belfon Constantine had slaves pushing their chairs around.

  Kamil managed to get me seated and not sitting on the hem of my gown. She reached between me and Jonas Keskemeti, who settled on my right. In that room, I didn’t much mind that the leader of the Humanists rubbed elbows with me.

  Kamil plucked a cloth napkin from the table and unraveled it, then dropped it over my lap and stepped behind me.

  A Drigu did the same for Keskemeti, who coughed and stared down at the square of cloth on his knees, then glanced at me. Then behind me. He leaned closer. “Are they to just stand there? The whole meal?”

  I glanced behind me. Kamil stood a pace back, her hands held loosely together in front of her. So did the Drigu tending Keskemeti. I had to fight to not laugh, for Vara had settled herself right next to Kamil. I glanced further along the table and saw Coal beside Juro, too. I wondered if the parawolves had decided to make things interesting by scaring the hell out of the Drigu, or if they genuinely liked them. Most people thought parawolves had to obey their master because of the bond. They would be surprised by how little control it gave us. It just made us more sensitive about how the parawolves felt. And
Vara was feeling pleased with herself right now.

  I turned back to Keskemeti. “I believe the Drigu do stand there for the whole meal. It’s the way of it,” I added, keeping my expression straight. I even managed to not roll my eyes.

  Keskemeti tilted his head a tiny degree, considering me. “I see.”

  Eliot Byrne was on my left. He looked surprisingly elegant in a jacket with a high neck. He’d even shaved and removed his cap, which revealed the stubble of hair slowly growing in. Even though he was using a clone body now, he still looked painfully thin.

  “Be careful what you eat,” I murmured to him.

  “I’ve got Fiori and Lyth, and Bethy Crnčević all yapping at me about the same thing,” Eliot replied, in the same low murmur.

  I laughed, wondering what Elizabeth Crnčević thought of being referred to as Bethy. She was too glamorous to be anything but Elizabeth. “You are still delicate,” I told Eliot. He’d been barely emerged from the tank and woken in his new body before we lifted off.

  He nodded. “Aye, and I don’t get why I’m even on this jaunt. I was still figuring out how to make these legs walk when we took off.” He glanced sideways at me. “I figure you might have had something to do with that.”

  “I might,” I said lightly. In fact, I had argued heavily to have Eliot Byrne included. “He saved our asses and died doing it,” I reminded Jai, when he and Arnold Laxman both argued that Byrne was too newly awake in his clone body to risk exposure to some Terran disease we had no idea how to treat.

  I’d got my way only by reminding Jai that he had agreed not to argue with any of my arrangements regarding the safety of the mission. That had made Jai scowl, but he’d been scowling since our first argument, so I ignored it. Laxman had stuffed Eliot full of prophylactic antibiotics and anti-virals, muttering about the risks the whole time.

  “Are you exercising?” I murmured to Eliot now.

  “When I can. This heat, though…” He shook his head. “Well, it’s not deep space, is it?” His tone was rueful.

  “Not even close,” I agreed.

  I looked along the table. Opposite me was Marlee Colton, her blue tattoos pulsing along her arms, for her dress had no sleeves. Next to her was Yoan. Isuma Florin and Belfon Constantine were on that side and four seats up from me, which left Jai, opposite them, and Kristiana, next to him, to carry the bulk of the awkward conversations.

  But I was startled to see Rayhel Melissa sitting next to Marlee Colton. I stared at him. “Should you not be sitting with your Deputy and Secretary?”

  “I thought I’d let the big kids play their games and enjoy myself down here.” His smile was infectious. “I’m very much the subordinate in this arena, you know.”

  “Which arena is that?” Keskemeti asked, his tone curious.

  “Politics,” Rayhel said flatly. “I believe you are familiar with the profession, Dr. Keskemeti.”

  Keskemeti drew in a breath that even I could hear. He hadn’t expected Rayhel to know who he was. Yet I suspected Rayhel could now name every one of us at the table, and probably could also name our professions, expertise and interests. And quite possibly, who we were sleeping with, too.

  He spoke of being the subordinate, but I dismissed the notion. He might hold a junior position in the Assembly, compared to Isuma and Constantine, but he was not a minor player at all.

  More Drigu appeared from a small doorway at the far back of the room, all carrying heavy trays, some of which steamed.

  “Do you follow any formal pre-meal observations or ceremonies, Jai Van Veen?” Isuma asked, as the Drigu filed down the length of the table.

  “It is normal among us to wish each other a pleasant meal, usually by raising a glass of beverage toward each other.”

  “That is something we also do on Earth,” Isuma said, sounding very pleased. “Do you have wine on your worlds?”

  “We do.”

  “Ah! Then perhaps wine will be a safe drink for you. It cannot have transmuted so far in a few thousand years that you cannot drink ours. Please…try some.” Isuma waved to a Drigu, who stepped forward and poured a pale yellow liquid into the glass in front of Jai.

  He stared at it.

  “It does not appear to your taste?” Isuma asked, with a hint of anxiety in her tone.

  “It isn’t red,” Jai said. “This is wine?” He lifted the glass.

  “Perhaps you might prefer your Drigu drink it first?” Isuma suggested.

  I could not figure out why a Terran taste-testing for a Carinad would resolve anything. Then I realized she was referring to Ven.

  Jai frowned. “There does seem to be a general misunderstanding about Aveniru’s status among Carinads. He is not a Drigu, among us. We have no Drigu. But you know this. Ven is considered an equal to all other Carinads. He is one of us. You might find us a little less…stodgy, if you bear that in mind.”

  It was a direct challenge. I wanted to cheer. I looked down the table, searching for Ven. He was on my side and far along from me, and I couldn’t see his face.

  I held my breath, watching the pair across from Jai process his assertion.

  Constantine grew red in the face. From the corner of my eye, for I was watching Constantine and Isuma, I could see Rayhel’s quick smile. The man did not respond as expected.

  Isuma looked flustered, but then she drew herself upright, the dress growing taut around her, and picked up the wine glass in front of her and held it up. “We must all adapt to each other. Why not start right now? Thank you for pointing this out to us, Jai Van Veen.”

  Jai raised his glass toward her. “Thank you for understanding.” And he sipped.

  I think everyone at the table who was Carinad watched him take that first sip.

  Then Jai raised a brow and considered the glass. “It is wine,” he said. “But lighter. Very pleasant, in this heat.”

  As Jai had not immediately grabbed at his throat or fallen out of his chair, I picked up the glass in front of me, which had a few centimeters of the yellow wine in it, poured by a Drigu while I wasn’t looking. I brought the glass to my lips and hesitated. Jai had courage, I decided. He’d done this with everyone watching him. Then I raised the glass a little more and let my first taste of anything Terran slip into my mouth.

  Jai was right. It did taste like wine…only different. It was not an unpleasant taste. I took a larger mouthful. Everyone else around the table was doing the same thing, and I noticed more hesitations and experimental sips.

  This time, I noticed the Drigu step up beside me and place a plate in front of me. The plate held a salad, and I was pleased that I recognized what it was, and that I could also name many of the vegetables in it. It let me relax a little.

  “We carefully selected dishes which carry the least amount of allergens and possibilities for reactions in diners not fully adjusted to the ingredients,” Isuma told us. “But there are additional ingredients being placed in front of you. Those who feel more adventurous may experiment freely.”

  A row of dishes and plates were placed down the center of the table, holding more vegetables, dressings, sauces, spices and herbs. Many of them I did not recognize.

  I grudgingly appreciated the Terran thoughtfulness. I didn’t want to like them or admire them. That wasn’t my job. But I was hungry. I picked up the fork, which wasn’t much different from our forks, and stabbed a piece of lettuce and ate it. It tasted like our lettuce. Encouraged, I tried a few more of the ingredients, one at a time, testing their taste against what I was used to and finding them similar enough to let me relax and dig into the salad and eat it properly. After another mouthful, I reached for one of the salad dressings on the center of the table, and spooned a small dollop onto a piece of lettuce and tried that. It was quite different, with a sharp but creamy taste that was quite pleasant, so I spooned more and continued eating.

  Along the table, everyone else was eating cautiously just as I was. Swiftly, more and more of them reached for the additions in the center of the table. I wonde
red if Fiori would have a sleepless night, tonight, dealing with reactions, allergies and more.

  There was little conversation while we ate. We were all starving. It had been a very long day, with no mid-meal, for none of us had been willing to send the Drigu to fetch food, and Fiori and Kristiana had been too busy to unpack food from the crates—not that they had anywhere in the suite to prepare food for us to eat, anyway. That was something we would have to amend swiftly. We couldn’t depend upon the Terrans for every calorie while we stayed here.

  Amend that: I was not willing to depend upon the Terrans for anything.

  The salad course was cleared, including all the dishes down the center of the table, before conversations began. At first, they were small side comments, or questions sent across the table. I heard a low laugh, with a touch of stress in it. Then another, lighter laugh. Everyone was relaxing. Food in the belly was helping with that. So was the wine.

  Keskemeti said to Rayhel Melissa, “Perhaps you might explain to us how you name yourselves, Rayhel Melissa? Slate mentioned family names…but I don’t understand what that means.”

  I didn’t glance at Keskemeti, even though I wondered if he was lying. The man wasn’t stupid, and it wasn’t as though family names were unheard of in Carina worlds. The Andela family—my family—was one of them, and several other former barge families had endowed offspring with the family name, too. I had given my son Noam the Andela name, because his father had chosen not to be involved in his raising—also not an unheard-of choice. Noam had given Juliyana the Andela name for the same reason.

  Mostly, though, Carinads didn’t use family names anymore. A second name was chosen for newborns which was usually a combination of the last names of their parents, in order to distinguish them from anyone else who might have the same first name. But even that wasn’t necessary. One of the better-known tank players from Melenia was simply called “Keven the Amazing.” It was a unique name, which was all that was required.