Kris Longknife - Emissary

by Mike Shepherd

  The air inside was cool and pleasant on Kris’s skin. Considering the heavy wool of her uniform, she was grateful for that. The porters hurried through the forest of banners, leaving the white marble walls behind them. The floor their bare feet padded across was white stone as well, seamed with silver.

  Nelly, the banners seem to have designs woven into them. Can you make anything out?”

  Kris, I cannot recognize a pattern to their hanging. However, I may have identified something like the planetary seal for one of the planets we captured during the Iteeche war and gave back.

  SO, these could be planetary banners, Jack put in. That would account for the forest of them. They have almost three thousand at last count.

  I think there are more banners than three thousand, Jack. Nelly, try to pick up any pattern you can with the banners and match it to anything we know about the Iteeche.

  They came to the end of the forest of waving cloth. Now they faced a vast expanse of gleaming marble. A great distance away, a platform of sea blue stone rose in front of them, approachable only by steep steps. What was up there was hidden behind tall latticed screens of silver and gold that also fluttered in the breeze . . . or maybe created it.

  All that was interesting, but the immediate problem was a half dozen old men, each dressed in a primary color: white, green, red, blue, yellow and black. Arrayed in a crescent behind them stood two dozen of the biggest Iteeche Kris had ever laid eyes on . . . or heard of from her Grampa Trouble. The normal Iteeche would reach seven feet or more. These started at eight feet and went up from there. Backing up their imposing height were thickly muscled arms and legs. They wore golden kilts at their loins. Their white skin was tattooed in blue geometric patterns that emphasized the bulge of their muscles.

  Each held one huge grounded pole-axe in their right hand. Huge as in tall as well as huge blades. They gleamed wickedly sharp.

  These armed Iteeche looked ready, willing, and able to slice and dice any transgressing Iteeche to sushi.

  They looked only too eager to hack a human into chum.

  Kris resisted the strong temptation to go for the service automatic nestled at the small of her back. She did wish that she had not switched it to less lethal sleepy darts.

  Ron slowly dismounted from his sedan chair. He walked up to the first Iteeche, who stepped aside, giving Ron a clear view to the Imperial blue rock. There Ron got down on his hands and knees and bent his head to the ground.

  Kris had always wondered how an Iteeche knelt. What with eight knees and eight elbows, it looked to be a complicated process. Now she got to watch it in the flesh.

  Ron went down on the first knees of his two forward legs, letting the other two legs trail out straight behind him. He then put his two center hands on the deck and went down on the first pair of elbows. He kept his other two hands at his side.

  That done, he lowered his forehead to the deck and stayed that way.

  Kris dismounted and motioned Jack to come up a step behind her and outboard. She marched up to stand beside where Ron kowtowed, then bowed from the waist in the direction of the Emperor. She held the low bow for a long as she’d expect Grampa Ray would, then added an extra heartbeat, and stood back up.

  She then added a nod toward the six multi-colored old dragons and took a step back.

  Beside her, Jack had held the fine wooden box with Kris’s credentials in it throughout his own bow, like Kris’s, but deeper, and for a second longer. He did not acknowledge the pompous road block.

  There was a distinct stiffening among the brightly colored ones. At least three of the axe men looked ready to pounce, but they held in place when no order was shouted.

  The Iteeche in white spoke, addressing his words to Ron on his hands and knees, head still on the deck.

  “Your Eminent Chooser said you would be dragging a piece of human excrement into His Worshipful Presence. He did not tell me the piece of human excrement would be an arrogant heretic,” Nelly translated on net.

  Still with his eyes focused on the deck, Ron answered, “Beware. This human is the chosen of Raymond Longknife, Slayer of Worlds and Poisoner of Dreams. She, herself has killed a trillion or more hostile aliens who scream after our blood. Oh, and she understands every word you are saying.”

  The white clad Iteeche’s gaze rose from Ron to Kris. Kris hardened her eyes, thinned her lips and bestowed upon him The Look.

  The Iteeche took a step back. The vestigial gills along his neck flared and trembled. His eyes, all four of them, grew wide and he uttered a slight gasp as he took a second step back.

  Kris stood like a rock, eyes on the offending Iteeche, then whirled on her heels and boarded her sedan chair. Jack did not scramble to keep up with her, but marched to his own drummer purposefully back to his own chair.

  “Take us away from this pond scum,” Kris ordered her carriers. Nelly, close down the windows.

  I’m making them like gold mirrors.

  Good. They like their privacy. Let’s see how they take to mine.

  From outside, Kris could just make out low murmurs.

  I think you really shocked them, Kris, Jack reported.

  Are the axe guys making any moves?

  Not before I closed down my windows. Sal made mine silver. Status. Boy do these people like their status.

  I’m having a hard time translating the prattling outside, Kris. It’s not only in a low whisper but it looks like these folks talk some archaic dialect. I can only track the half of it.

  And the half of it is?

  You scared them. Really scared them. A few think they owe it to the Emperor to take your head now. Others don’t think they could. Most just want you away from here.

  And Ron?

  He’s on his feet and getting back into his sedan chair.

  Kris’s chair began to move. Nelly, show me a picture.

  A hologram appeared in front of her. Ron’s chair led the way, his porters going to a trot. Kris and Jacks followed in line behind him. The two crescents of lethal axe wielders shuffled out to open wide around them.

  Kris allowed herself a deep breath.

  Chapter 41

  Once they were well clear of that bunch, Kris had time to think.

  First, she had Nelly open up her view again. A glance around was clearly through gold-colored shades. She needed a better look. “Nelly, turn the top of this thing into a clear bubble. I need a better view of this place.”

  Nelly did. One sweep of her surroundings and Kris couldn’t keep her mouth from dropping open.

  She’d been in some pretty big buildings. Factory floors. Hangars where they made shuttles. She’d never seen anything this huge.

  The ceiling far overhead sparkled with tiny stars. Planets and moons of every soft color moved slowly around that celestial bowl. The floor the porters padded across was paved with a myriad of small stones. Some shone. Others sparkled. They were woven in patterns that showed a sea, here calm, other places tossed. There were even islands. Somehow the artist had made the flat surface appear three-dimensional with cliffs and woods.

  And then there was the distance. The walls all around disappeared in the shimmering forest of banners that they’d entered through. Kris had to wonder if there were more entrances. Did others cross this great plain from different angles?

  Then, she had to adjust her entire perspective again.

  Another group began to come in view. This one was twice as large. Six multi-colored dragons to the right, six to the left. Well behind them was a row of large Iteeche with long, two-handed swords. They were backed up by row upon row of huge Iteeche warriors with massive pole-axes.

  Even at the pace Kris’s porters were trotting along on their four legs, it still took a while to get to them.

  Nelly, how big can you make this sedan chair?

  Pretty big.

  When I say so, make mine as big and bejeweled and fancy as you can. Oh, and the same for Jack.

  Do you want to approve my redesign, Kris?


  No, surprise me.

  I’m so glad I tossed in extra Smart Metal when I knocked those things out. This is going to be so much fun!

  As they approached the next obeisance stop, Kris noticed her chair begin to rise until her personal cabin was carried well above the shoulders of the trotting Iteeche porters.

  Don’t let me roll over, Nelly.

  Don’t worry, Kris, you and Jack may be going up, but I’m also dropping down skids with outriggers. The crew you got carrying you couldn’t toss you over if they wanted to.

  Good.

  Ron’s sedan chair came to a stop. As he exited it, he glanced back Kris’s way, and came to a dead stop. His mouth dropped open and his whole face went slack.

  Behind him, a whole lot of faces were going slack.

  Nelly was having her fun.

  Kris’s sedan grew spires that climbed and spun like seaweed in the ocean’s current. The door panels flowed out in broad curves that fully circled the traces the porters stood in, but swelled out three or four times farther.

  All of this glinted with what looked like gold, and silver inset with pearls, rubies, emerald and diamonds.

  How do I get out of this contraption, Nelly?

  Well, I could have your chair glide down or you can stand up and I’ll have an escalator take you down.

  Let’s go with an escalator, Kris said, standing and finding that even her six-foot frame had room to spare within her luxurious land yacht.

  A door to her right opened, she stepped out onto a golden platform, and it smoothly lowered her down a shallow incline. Down, she strode up to Ron.

  “Don’t we need to keep this show on the road?”

  He’d been staring open mouth at Kris’s entrance. Now he closed his mouth.

  “Yes,” he said, and turned to take his proper place before the dozen colorful old Iteeche. Again, he went down on his hands and knees, though this time he used the second knee and elbow, bringing his torso even closer to the ground. It was easier to bring his forehead to the deck.

  Kris waited until he was down, then with a ONE. TWO. THREE, on Nelly Net to coordinate with Jack, she bent into her own bow. She held it a moment longer this time, assuming that since she was closer she should be more respectful. When she reached her time limit, she stood tall, with Jack coming back up a moment later.

  Maybe they’d been warned by the first group, or maybe Nelly’s walking castle had impressed them. It was also possible that this bunch was of another party that didn’t have such a low opinion of humans. Whatever the reason, there was no discussion as Ron completed his duty to his Emperor and Kris showed her respects.

  Everything done, Kris returned to her pavilion and the party was once again off.

  Kris, you should have warned me that you were going to do something like that, Ron said, which reminded Kris that he did, indeed, have the occasional access to Nelly Net.

  Ron, I just let Nelly surprise me. Sorry, I’ll give you some warning next time.

  I could have lost all kind of face with this bunch of old prunes. As it is, we all just about lost our jaws together. You are in Deep Water, human, be careful with that stuff.

  What did you think of it? came from Nelly, clearly preening.

  Absolutely spectacular, Nelly, absolutely spectacular. Kris, can my iteeche Smart Metal do things like that?

  Maybe, ask your own computers.

  Oh, right. That Magnificent Nelly thing again.

  You bet it is, said the Magnificent Nelly herself.

  Nelly trimmed some of the top hamper from Kris’s walking castle and turned the bubble around her once again clear. They hurried across the plain, approaching what Kris had mistakenly taken for a raised platform. Now she realized it was at least as tall as a two-story warehouse. The steps she’d spotted from afar had steps cut into them. And there were more people. Guards in black uniforms with both axe and swords stood in formation, rank upon rank. Backing them up were Iteeche in blue that matched the stone; they carried short muzzled machine cannons and long barreled rocket launchers. Their helmets gave Kris to suspect the rest of their gear was full, modern battle armor.

  While the guards with swords and pole-axes stood in their phalanxes, the rifle and grenadiers were scattered about in fire teams of four.

  And everywhere there were advisors. Older Iteeche in the solid colors Kris had yet to decipher. There were plenty of white and greens, fewer of the red, blue, yellow and black. Here and there were a spattering of the gray and gold uniforms that Kris knew were worn by Navy officers as well as a few in the bright red and silver of Marines.

  The colorful crowd had been milling around with no visible purpose, but as Kris’s walking pavilion approached, and got even more garish as the spiraling towers turned to leaping dolphins and diving birds above her, they all slowly turned to take her in.

  All talk ceased as Ron’s sedan chair came to a halt. Once again, Kris and Jack did their entrance even as Ron slowly paced off the distance to where three plush and colorful rugs lay. On each, just right for the bowed head of an Iteeche, was a tasseled pillow.

  Someone call ahead? Jack asked.

  It is normal here, Ron put in. We are expected to stay obsequious until invited by His Worshipful One’s Lord of Household to rise. He’s the guy in gold cloth.

  Lead on, Kris said.

  Ain’t gonna happen.

  Ron went down on all four legs and all four arms, using different elbows on each to support his body just off the mat. He rested his head on the pillow and seemed ready to wait out the head honcho.

  Kris marched up to the middle of the rug. She eyed the guy in gold, and again did her bow from the waist in the direction Ron was laid out toward. She held it a few seconds longer than last time, then stood up straight and looked the golden household boss straight in the eyes.

  They stared at each other for a long minute. Then another one.

  Kris held herself at attention, her hands at her side. She could feel sweat trickling down between her shoulder blades, past her bra. Her finger itched for the trigger of her issued automatic that nestled in the small of her back like an adder, eager to be loosed.

  She didn’t move a muscle.

  “You are late,” the Lord of the Household spat at Kris. Nelly said nothing, but translated it in her head.

  “We were inconvenienced by someone’s inability to keep peace within the shadow of Your Emperor’s abode. You should look to improving matters.” Kris said, and Nelly translated.

  “He was talking to me,” Ron said from his place, face down on the ground.

  “He was looking at me,” Kris answered.

  “Poorly chosen one, have you failed to explain to your uneducatable human that they are not allowed to speak in the presence of The Most Worshipful One?”

  Before Ron could open his mouth, Kris was speaking. “I am the invited emissary of King Raymond of the United Society. I speak for him as an equal to anyone who would invite him into their presence. If your Emperor does not wish to speak with my King, then I will leave you to your own devices. I assume, of course, that you speak for your Emperor when you say he does not want to talk with me,” Kris said, her words hard and bitten off sharp. Then she turned around and headed back to her traveling pavilion.

  She’d just gotten to the escalator when a strong voice spoke.

  “You really tossed your own guts along with the chum into the shark tank with that one,” it said.

  Kris turned to find a short Iteeche in Navy grey and gold talking, half to the Lord of the Household, half to her. He fingered his chin with one hand while his body swayed back and forth between the honcho in gold and Kris.

  Kris paused, waiting to see what the Iteeche would do next. Jack continued his slow-paced march back to his garish traveling platform. When he reached the escalator, Kris gave him a slight wave of her hand and he paused, ornate wooden box still held out before him.

  “Let her go,” the Lord of the Household snapped. “Look at her. She doesn’t belo
ng here.”

  “But she has been invited here. You and I know why. Do you really think The Worshipful One will be pleased with you barring her way when this comes to his eyes? If I were you, I’d be careful what cup wiggles into my bed.”

  Kris, that’s not only a possible threat that the Emperor might order him to make a most sincere apology by snake bite, I think, from what we’re picking up from telecast programs, I think that it’s also a perversion. Some disreputable Iteeche seemed to like to sleep with snakes even though it is illegal.

  Enough Nelly. I know there’s a nasty fight going on here.

  “It is already too late. She has missed her appointed time,” snapped the household honcho.

  “Ah, yes, so she has. However, you know as well as I that Our Worshipful One reserved the entire morning for this Eminent Visitor from his Imperial cousin. Don’t you think the wiser path would be to let him decide just who should make the formal apology?”

  “Be it your head on the chopping block,” the gold clothed one snapped, turned on his heels and stalked off.

  The Navy type turned to face Kris fully. “May I suggest you use those two legs of yours and hasten into The Worshipful Presence. The clock is ticking off the seconds of your life. Oh, and when you are done, you might look me up. Admiral of the Grand Order of Iron Coth, at your service.”

  He bowed low to Kris. She returned it, if a bit less low.

  Ron rose from where he’d kowtowed, then began to climb the stairs. Kris and Jack joined him, leaving their sedan chairs behind and walking the final steps into the Emperor’s presence.

  She left behind several advisors, mostly those in Marine red and silver, Navy gray and gold and others in yellow who watched her departure with curious eyes. As for the others, they turned to each other and began to buzz like angry bees.

  Ron, when this is done, you’ve got a whole lot of explaining to do.

  I will try, Kris, but some of this is way above my paygrade as you might say.

  They were now rapidly approaching the top of the blue stone structure.