Circle's End

by Lisanne Norman

“Wait until Laazif has been up with his records and our refreshments have arrived. The less the servants see of what we’re doing, the less they can give away if it comes to it,” said Kusac.

  “There’s an estate a couple over from this one that has a Lord in his mid years. He’d be well placed for us to take over. He also has a small fleet of his own berthed at one of the other spaceports. It gives us legitimate access to another space station.”

  “Sounds ideal. What’s his name?”

  “Lord Lorishuk.”

  “We’ll look at the map, then try and make his acquaintance in the Palace, see what kind of person he is. Unfortunately, we can’t do a memory transfer the way I did, so we’ll need to observe him first. I can do a limited transferal. The final decision is up to you, Rezac.”

  “Understood.”

  A knock on the door, then it opened to let in two servants carrying large trays of hot maush and sandwiches. They were followed by Laazif.

  “I’m starving,” said Cheelar. “They were not generous with breakfast this morning, and we haven’t eaten since then.”

  “You should have mentioned it to me,” chided Kusac. “My staff don’t go hungry if I have any say in it. I hope there’s a drinking bowl for you, Laazif. We all need to eat right now.” Then he saw the slightly startled look on the steward’s face.

  Dammit! That was apparently very un-Nayash behavior, he swore.

  Lapses happen. He’ll be forgiving if he thinks you are being fair to the staff as a whole, replied Rezac. Right now, he doesn’t know you as an employer, so your different behavior is accounted for by that. Be worse if you were taking over an established relationship.

  “Are you sure, my Lord?” Laazif asked.

  “Quite. I want you efficient, and hungry staff are very inefficient,” he said.

  “I had a larger table brought into the room for you, my Lord, since it seems you and your staff are frequently working and eating together in here. I hope that was acceptable?” he said, directing the servants to lay the trays on the table. As they left to get another bowl, Laazif put his books down at one end of the table and began setting out the plates and the flasks of maush from the trays.

  “Ideal. I expect we’ll have a few late sessions at this table. Noolgoi, get the chairs organized, if you please. Cheelar, get the map showing the area out so that Laazif can point out the locations of my factories to help us plan the visits properly.”

  Sandwiches in the middle and drinks at either end, they sat round the oval table and concentrated on just eating. It had been a long day, and they had left before lunchtime.

  “We have to increase production of munitions for the Emperor, Laazif. Are there any ways we can do that without taking risks? What kind of munitions do we make at each factory?”

  Laazif, still uncomfortable at actually sitting at the same table as his Lord, choked down his mouthful of food.

  “You make three gauges of bullets for the hand arms and rifles all our infantry use. You also make energy packs for the hand blasters used by spacers and officers. And finally you make small bore missiles for the spaceships in your own navy and those ships you supply to the Emperor’s fleet. They both fight in the Second Fleet,” he added, “but, of course, you know that.”

  “So where can we increase production?”

  “Not with the energy packs; they are just too volatile to push the workforce to make them faster. Any accident means a large explosion with . . .”

  “. . . . with a loss of trained lives and production. Understood. But we can do more with the bullets and missiles, yes?”

  “Yes, my Lord. The plants shut down only on one day a week. If we were to rotate the workforce so no one was working more than six days in a row, we could keep production going for that seventh day. It’ll mean a slightly longer day for them, but within tolerances.”

  “Let’s do that, then. Thank you, Laazif. Tomorrow, you and I will visit the factories. In the meantime, please implement the changes.”

  “Yes, my lord,” said the Steward, getting to his feet and bowing.

  “You can finish eating first,” said Kusac.

  “I’m finished, thank you, and the changes have to be given now to the work supervisors so they can draw up new schedules for the workers.”

  “Very well, thank you.”

  They waited until he had left, then began to examine the maps for the location of the Lorishuk estate.

  “I need to find out what kind of family he has, what members, who lives at the estate, who at the Palace quarters,” said Rezac. “Coming into it blind for you was bad enough and we were lucky, but doing that again is chancing things too much.”

  “Agreed. Let’s take two or three days to do our research first. However, I need you to visit the mountain tribe tomorrow while I’m at the factories.”

  “Why? Wouldn’t it be better to wait and go yourself? What reason would I have to go as your representative?”

  “I want you to inspect whatever it is they do up there—grow grain and vegetables, farm meat—find out for me. Get the feel of the tribe, how they treat their women. I want to see if they are like the lowlanders, all bred to a station in life or free from that. We could have natural allies there and not yet know it.”

  “That’s a dangerous road,” warned Rezac. “Far too dangerous in my opinion.”

  “At this time I would have to say I agree with him,” said Cheelar very quietly. “Why would they support you in a coup against the Emperor? Because that is what you are doing. They would go down with you and suffer badly for it. Far better for them to turn you in and remain free of association with such a mad scheme.”

  “Let’s just see what this visit uncovers, shall we?” frowned Kusac as at the edges of his mind he heard Kaid trying to make his opinion heard. “I’m not the one making first contact with them, after all. I also have Kaid’s opinion to hear.”

  It’s possible that some of them may be of use to us, sent Kaid from their base in the high mountains, but right now, just get a feel for which way the wind is blowing up there. We can discuss it in detail here when you and Rezac need to head back to base for some extended time as yourselves.

  Agreed, replied Kusac. Tell Carrie I’ll talk to her in about ten minutes, when I can get away from the others.

  She’ll be pleased, said Kaid. Will do.

  “I’m taking some time in the pool,” said Kusac quietly, getting up. “I need to talk to Carrie. M’yikku, please accompany me as my bodyguard.”

  * * *

  I do hate just handling comms when you’re taking all the risks, she sent when he was finally able to relax in the pool and chat with her. Don’t tell me it’s important monitoring the comms for possible mention of us, I know that, but I feel redundant. We have a program doing this, too. I’m just one of the live person backups.

  Knowing you’re doing that gives me the confidence to do this, he replied, making his tone a mental caress.

  She sighed. I know, and at least I know I’m helping. Are you remembering to not stay in Valtegan form for more than three days and nights? When did you last change?

  Two nights ago. Rezac the same. We each had two of our commandos watching over us all night to be sure no one disturbed us.

  Good. Any idea when you’re coming here? We think every five changes, roughly every fifteen days at most, you should come to base if you can and be Sholan for a full Sholan day—twenty-eight hours.

  I’ll do my best. So far I am not having any of that flickering feeling as if I’m about to morph without warning. Neither has Rezac.

  The Gods help us all if you do! she said. Kaid’s putting together a contingency plan, but it depends on you giving us good maps of the whole of the Palace underground. We need to know where the cells are.

  Could be difficult, even trying to get that information might get us caught for different reason
s. Tell Kaid that K’hedduk is utterly convinced one of us remained behind after the rescue. He’s scouring the whole Palace for the spy. We really kicked his ant’s nest for him! I’m not sure if this is to our advantage yet or not, though.

  Just so long as he’s not suspicious of you, she sent.

  He wants me as an ally against the other Generals. In fact, he just made me one, much to the annoyance of the others who are a lot older than Nayash. I’m to back his plans in the Council and generally support him. Talk about irony.

  I’ll tell Kaid to join us, shall I? He needs to hear this.

  It was Kusac’s turn to sigh. Better do that. Don’t know how long I’ll have out here before they call me to dinner.

  Must be dreadful, a lovely pool, a hot evening, and a good dinner! We have sub-zero conditions at night, a little above that in the daytime, and are all stuck in this damned cave. I can tell you, we’re all getting cabin fever!

  Any more from Annuur?

  Yes, sent Kaid. He let us know through the TeLaxaudin Azwokkus that he’s meeting Noni at the space station at Shola to take her to the Prime world. Seems they want to be sure that Zhalmo gets all the help she needs.

  That’s actually good news. Kitra won’t have to try and deal with it after all, and Noni is well able to handle even my botched job of deleting Zhalmo’s memories of her capture and captivity.

  Apparently, it wasn’t so botched, chuckled Kaid. Seems that she and Zsurtul got married on the way back. The Touibans and one of the Brothers on the ship officiated. I’ll bet they wished it had been a state affair after all. Those Touibans apparently love ceremonies according to Azwokkus.

  Married? So what I did worked, thank the Gods. M’yikku is giving me a five-minute warning, so I need to brief you on what’s happened to us.

  M’zullian Palace, same evening

  “Zerdish, I want to see our alien agent immediately. Send for him.”

  The black-clad bodyguard left the room silently, returning a few minutes later. “He’ll be here in ten minutes, Majesty.”

  “Good,” said K’hedduk getting up and walking over to his drinks cabinet. He poured himself a neat after dinner spirit, swirling the ruby red liquid round the glass before taking a sip. “I have several important issues to discuss with him, and this time I won’t be put off.”

  * * *

  Azwokkus arrived in a curtained sedan chair of the type used by the wives of other Lords when visiting the harem ladies.

  As the servants carrying it entered, Zerdish took charge. “Just leave the lady with us. We’ll tell you when to return.”

  Bowing deeply, the two servants left.

  The drab brown curtain twitched, and Azwokkus popped his head carefully out, mandibles clicking. “Is safe?” the automatic translator asked.

  “Yes, of course it is!” said K’hedduk, perching on the edge of his desk.

  Azwokkus emerged slowly and carefully from the cushions set behind the curtains, his somber green draperies gently moving against his spindly bronze legs. “What does sand-dweller need this time?” he asked.

  “Sand-dweller?” demanded K’hedduk. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Your people evolve on hot dry world, much sand,” said the translator before making a spitting, hissing noise. “Logical name.”

  “We’re Valtegans, not sand-dwellers,” snapped K’hedduk. “I don’t know if you’re aware or not, but I was recently on the home world of K’oish’ik. While I was there, every one of your people disappeared just when I had need of them. I have asked you this question before, but you haven’t answered. I want to know not only why you left, but how? No ships left the Palace lot, none left the spaceport, so where did you go?”

  Azwokkus’ eyes swirled rapidly as he sought for an acceptable answer. At least this translator was one of those designed to spit out garbage sounds whenever he wanted an answer to be taken as untranslatable.

  “Annual pilgrimage. Time for us to hiss, spit . . . to our home world. We travel by hiss, spit . . . means hiss spit hisss . . . Cannot tell you. Words you do not have.” He ducked his head apologetically even though he knew the other would not understand the gesture.

  “It’s instantaneous transport between your world and this, isn’t it?” said K’hedduk, getting to his feet and moving toward the small alien. “I want to know how you do it, I want to use it for myself.”

  “Cannot. Species thing and only to waiting ship, not far. You cannot use, too big.”

  “Then adapt it for us! You are adept with inventing devices like that one down in the lower corridors. You can make it possible for us to travel instantly to our ships from the planet’s surface, if you put your minds to it.”

  “Perhaps, I not engineer, I scientist of different kind. I ask, we see.” Azwokkus turned to go, but K’hedduk’s hand snaked out and grabbed him round the arm, holding him tight.

  “Good Gods, but you’re all bone,” said K’hedduk in surprise. “I need a weapon from your people that will let me beat the Valtegans on K’oish’ik. I am their rightful Emperor and I will retake that world for myself. You will provide me with a weapon to do so. Not one like we’re using on J’kirtikk, I don’t want to destroy all life there, I want to enjoy my victory, have them as my subjects, and have that pretender in my grasp.”

  “Matter transformer broken, cannot fix it. No can make weapons for you,” said Azwokkus, trying to restrain himself from letting loose with his defenses. A quick jolt of energy would be ideal now, but he didn’t want the other to know just what reserves he had at his disposal. Being touched at all against his will by this most violent of the sand-dwellers had him putting his other hand near his translocator in fear.

  “What do you mean the transformer is broken?” demanded K’hedduk, shaking the small alien. “My people said they are having trouble programming it, but I thought it was their incompetence.”

  “Stop abusing me! Old is transformer, old, old. Broken it be from age! Another we not have. Cannot fix. Cannot make weapons again.”

  “Burn it, you will make me weapons!” hissed K’hedduk, letting go of the TeLaxaudin and lashing out with his other hand. Before the blow connected, there was the sudden smell of ozone and a flash of blinding light.

  K’hedduk staggered back with a cry, blinking, his eyes watering. “What the hell? Get him, Zerdish! Don’t let that insect get way!”

  “I can’t see either, Majesty,” came the reply.

  Tears pouring down his face, K’hedduk forced his eyes open and began searching the room for the alien. “He’s gone, dammit! How dare he leave like that! When he returns . . .” He stopped, took a deep breath. “He’s not going to return, and we have no way of contacting them again. Unless they want their machine back. Put a twenty-four–hour guard on it, Zerdish! It is never to be left alone. No one in or out except for me. If they try to get it, we’ll have them!”

  “Yes, Majesty.”

  Ghioass, Camarilla world, Azwokkus’ house, same night

  “Aieeeee! Vayak, Maykee! Send for Shvosi and Khassis,” cried Azwokkus, suddenly materializing and staggering across his living room. “A physician, too, for my arm!” He held out his swollen forearm as the U’Churian couple came rushing in to his aid.

  “Quick, contact the Camarilla members and then the physician,” said Vayak to his wife. “I’ll take him to the bathing room and see to his oil bath. Who did this to you, Master Azwokkus? Was it because of the mission you were on?”

  “I cannot speak of it,” Azwokkus said, tearing off the translator he’d used on M’zull and throwing it the length of the room. “Oh, the barbarity of them! If I had not been convinced before . . .”

  “Hush, Master Azwokkus, you’re safe at home now. You’ll soon be comfortable again,” said Vayak soothingly as he helped the stricken TeLaxaudin walk to the large and airy bathing room.

  His wife Maykee heade
d for the comm unit where she punched in the special code reserved for emergency communications with Phratry Leader Shvosi. As far as she knew, all it did was alert her to the fact that her presence was needed here. That done, she repeated it for Skepp Lady Khassis. Then she called Master Azwokkus’ physician.

  * * *

  The two Camarilla members arrived together, thankfully after Azwokkus had had a calming soak in his bath and been treated by his physician for a badly bruised forearm. His arm, now swathed in a soft pastel blue bandage, the TeLaxaudin relaxed on a large soft cushion, wrapped in a shawl of finely worked delicate yarn in rainbow colors.

  “Homekeeper Vayak,” said Shvosi quietly when the U’Churian opened the door. “How is he?”

  “He is well, Lady Shvosi,” he replied, ushering them in. “His arm was bruised down to the bone. Any more force on it and it would have been broken. He is still a little shaken, understandably.”

  “As you say, understandably. Thank you,” she said, entering the small hallway.

  Azwokkus looked up as they entered his greeting room. “You came! Have I things to tell you. The barbarity—we only guessed at it. Far worse it is. Refreshments if you please, Vayak, and a seat for Lady Shvosi.”

  “Of course, Master Azwokkus, everything is ready and will be here in a moment.”

  For the next five minutes, Maykee and Vayak busied themselves around his guests, sorting out the special Cabbaran seat for Shvosi, and cushions for Khassis, as well as low tables with appropriate drinks and snacks for all three of them.

  “If you need anything else, Master Azwokkus, just send for us,” said Vayak as they left the master of the house with his guests.

  “Thank you, I will. So thoughtful is Homekeeper Vayak,” he murmured picking up his tall thin glass of fruit juice.

  “I know you are very fond of him and his mate,” said Shvosi.

  Azwokkus’ eyes whirled as he adjusted his vision to look at her. “Indeed, I am.”

  “Now you are settled, tell us what happened,” said Khassis.

  “The brutal—Valtegan—demanded my presence, and I was conveyed to his office. He wanted to know how we left the sand-dweller home world while he was there. Oh, it was the wisest thing we did! Barbaric we knew he was, but had not met it ourselves!”