Clockwork Secrets

by Dru Pagliassotti

  “The three in red are justiciars, part of the local government,” Taya murmured. “The other two are probably port officials.”

  “Greet them for us,” Amcathra ordered.

  Taya stepped to the edge of the gangplank and made an Ondinium bow, her palms flat against her forehead. She followed it with a Cabisi bow, her palms pressed together at heart-height.

  “May you be safe today, honored hosts,” she said, in Cabisi.

  “May you be safe today, honored guests,” one of the port officials replied, returning her bow. The others followed suit. “From where do you come and for what purpose do you seek entry into the Cabisi Thalassocracy?”

  Taya thought she detected a guarded note in the man’s voice.

  “We are Ondinium, although we come most recently from Alzana. The ambassador Exalted Forlore offers Ondinium’s greetings to the Impeccable Justiciary. We seek—” she hoped she’d chosen the right word— “friendship with the Cabisi Thalassocracy and supplies for our ship.”

  “Are you the captain of this vessel?” the official asked, his eyes moving with reluctant fascination to the bright icarus wings that rose over Taya’s back. He’d used a word before “vessel” that Taya didn’t recognize. Flying, she guessed.

  “The lictor Janos Amcathra is the captain of the Firebrand,” she said, indicating him. “His second-in-command is Lieutenant Tacita Imbrex.” She had to use the Ondinan words for Firebrand, lictor, second-in-command, and lieutenant. She didn’t know if there were any Cabisi equivalents. “They do not speak Cabisi. I am their translator. I apologize for not speaking your language well.”

  “You must be one of the famous Ondinium icarii,” said one of the justiciars, an older woman with white hair closely cropped to her head. She spoke in strongly accented Ondinan. Taya bowed again, uncertain whether it was necessary but deciding it couldn’t hurt.

  “I am, honored justiciar,” she said, switching to Ondinan. “My name is Taya.”

  “Our customs agents do not speak Ondinan. Does anyone on your crew speak Alzanan?”

  “Many do, yes, ma’am.” She used the Ondinan word for ma’am and wondered whether she should use justiciar, instead.

  The woman turned to the two port officials.

  “You can speak to the crew in Alzanan,” she said in Cabisi. One of the men nodded and faced Taya.

  “I beg your pardon for the inconvenience,” he said, still in Cabisi, “but docking and disembarking requires the completion of several forms and a customs inspection for disease and prohibited cargo. Is this acceptable under your custom?”

  “Please excuse me while I tell the captain.” Taya turned and outlined the situation. Amcathra nodded.

  “You may come aboard,” he said to the bureaucrat directly, in Alzanan.

  “Thank you, Captain,” replied the Cabisi in the same language. He bowed as he and his colleague stepped aboard the ship, looking around with speculative interest.

  The older justiciar bowed to Cristof.

  “Welcome to Os Cansai, Exalted Forlore,” she said in Ondinan. “I am Xu Chausiki, a justiciar. My companions are Tu Jinian and Ra Tafar, also justiciars. The Impeccable Justiciary is honored to have a member of Ondinium’s exalted caste set foot within the Cabisi Thalassocracy for the first time in recorded history.”

  Taya walked back to Cristof, arranging his sleeve to drape over her arm as he laid his hand on her forearm. He signaled with the traditional tapping code that she should return the greeting.

  “The Exalted Forlore is honored to visit your beautiful and much-renowned empire,” she replied. “We have heard much about Cabiel, and we are delighted to be here at last.”

  “The customs inspection takes some time,” Xu said. “If it is not against your beliefs, we have a room in the tower that is out of the sun and contains food and drink. I believe it is Ondinium tradition for exalteds to hide their faces in public, so we have hung curtains to allow you to eat and drink in private, Ambassador.”

  “The stories we have heard of Cabisi hospitality were not exaggerated,” Taya said, relieved by the offer. The sun was already warming the deck, and she was afraid Cristof’s new metal mask would soon become scalding. “Exalted Forlore would appreciate the opportunity to rest out of the sun. Justiciar Xu, may I also present Principessa Liliana Agosti, of Alzana’s royal family. She is the ambassador’s guest aboard the Firebrand.”

  “We are pleased to invite you inside as well, Principessa Agosti,” Xu said in Alzanan, offering another Cabisi bow. Liliana gracefully curtseyed in the Alzanan style.

  “Thank you, Justiciar Xu,” she said, following them into the tower. On the ship, Captain Amcathra was talking to the port officials while the lictors secured the wings and released steam from the engine.

  “One of your country’s aerostats is also in port, Principessa,” Xu observed, still in Alzanan. “The Indomitable.”

  “I look forward to speaking to its captain,” Liliana replied.

  “It carries a passenger from Ondinium, as well. In Cabisi we hear stories of political tensions between Ondinium and Alzana, but it seems the tales are nothing but idle sailors’ gossip.”

  “There is no tension between my Family and Ondinium,” Liliana said after a moment. Taya caught the sharp look Xu shot them and knew the principessa’s emphasis hadn’t been missed.

  The justiciars stopped at the next floor down and swept aside several layers of light curtain to reveal a circular room. Inside was a low table surrounded by floor cushions and covered with bowls of fresh fruit and nuts and several sweating carafes. The tower’s windows had been opened, permitting a cross-breeze that cooled the chamber.

  “This looks wonderful,” Taya said, sincerely. “Thank you very much.”

  “Please refresh yourself.” Xu bowed to Cristof, then switched to Cabisi. “May we speak to you outside a moment, Taya Icarus?”

  “Of course.”

  Xu let the curtains swing shut and they moved to the other side of the hall.

  “I regret to say that we are unfamiliar with many of Ondinium’s customs,” Xu said, keeping her voice low. “Therefore, I wish to ensure that we do not inadvertently offer insult to your people. May I ask you several questions?”

  “Of course. That’s exactly what I’m here for.”

  “I am grateful.” Xu studied her with open curiosity. “Does an icarus always wear her wings?”

  “No— only on duty. Wings are the sign of my caste.”

  “And does the exalted always wear a mask and robes? Also, is Exalted Forlore male or female?”

  “He’s male,” Taya said, amused. “Exalteds remove their masks and ceremonial coverings only in front of their household staff, icarii, and social peers. As an ambassador, Exalted Forlore accepts as his peers other royal families and high-ranking nobility and ambassadors. I assume that in Cabisi a justiciar is the equivalent of an exalted. However, I request that servants and people of lesser rank not attend any discussions or events where he takes off his mask.”

  She was pleased to have managed most of that in Cabisi, with only a few Ondinan terms mixed in.

  “If you permit me…” ventured the male of the trio, Ra Tafar. He was younger than Xu, but still middle-aged, his black hair flecked with gray. He began speaking in Cabisi, but Taya was swiftly lost. Seeing her incomprehension, he switched to accented Alzanan. “I am afraid you misunderstand Cabisi governance. A justiciar is not equivalent to an exalted. Cabiel is a sociocratie, with no heritable rank or caste. Communities nominate justiciars from their own membership to interpret the Code. Each island chooses one of its justiciars as its representative in the Impeccable Judiciary, and that justiciar serves a ten-year term before ceding the position to another.”

  “But the Impeccable Judiciary is Cabisi’s government, isn’t it?” Taya asked, also switching to Alzanan.

  “Not as you un
derstand government, perhaps,” Ra said. “There is no aristocracy or other ruling class here. The Impeccable Judiciary is only a government inasmuch as it interprets the Transcendent Code whenever disputes arise that cannot be resolved at a local level. Its members also serve as the adjudicators for inter-island disputes and ritual duels. But justiciars cannot issue new parts of the Code as decaturs or kings might issue new laws. The Code binds us as it does all members of the empire, and our judgments are subject to evaluation and challenge by other justiciars, which prevents any one of us from becoming more powerful than the other.”

  They’re a little more like Demicus than Ondinium, Taya thought. Not that it mattered. The story that Cristof only unmasked before foreign equivalents was simply a polite fiction invented to hide the fact that Cristof was a walking disgrace to his caste who didn’t care if he went barefaced before barbarians. No other exalted would dream of treating a foreigner like an equal.

  “Exalted Forlore will accept the Impeccable Justiciary as his peers,” she said, toeing the party line, “even if our systems of rank and governance aren’t identical. The significant factor of governmental rank is the ability of a person or body to guide its nation’s policies. If the Impeccable Judiciary is that body, then it is equivalent to the exalted caste.”

  “We do not precisely guide Cabiel’s policies, but we will treat with the ambassador if it so pleases your custom,” Xu said, switching back to Ondinan. “Please tell us of any other taboos that your country observes.”

  Taya assured them that the exalted would be pleased to accept transport to the Hall of Justice, that being housed with one of the justiciars would not be a problem, and that their diplomatic staff was small but would likely include the ship’s captain and its Mareaux navigator. In turn, she was relieved to hear that the Cabisi banks would accommodate Ondinium currency exchange, that no trade restrictions would prohibit the reprovisioning and repair of their ship, and that the lictors would be permitted to carry their weapons on shore.

  “I understand that Cabisi maintain a tradition of ritual dueling,” she said. “Ondiniums are unfamiliar with the practice. How do we avoid giving offense?”

  Xu smiled.

  “It is rare for a Cabisi to challenge a foreigner. The violations that usually lead to such a challenge are, I think, offenses in any culture— direct verbal insults, physical assault, unwelcome and persistent sexual advances, theft, and similar actions. Such behavior is, I think, as rude in Ondinium as it is in Cabiel.”

  “Yes.” Taya was relieved. “That seems reasonable.”

  “In addition, the most proximate justiciar must approve a challenge before it becomes legal. We always take into account a foreigner’s ignorance of Cabisi ways.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But I fear we keep you here longer than good manners dictate,” Xu said, standing. “Please do not allow us to delay you any further.”

  After an exchange of bows, the justiciars headed downstairs. Taya walked back to the curtained chamber.

  Cristof had managed to throw his lengthy sleeves back and remove his mask, which floated at the end of its tethers from a table leg. He’d poured himself a drink and sampled a few of the fruits.

  “This is good,” he said, gesturing to the carafe of ruby-red fruit juice. “But that thick white stuff— it’s not milk.”

  “Did you run into anything spicy?” Taya asked, piling up cushions next to Liliana. Cristof ruefully pointed to a plate of crimson nuts.

  “I didn’t realize the red coating was chili until I ate one.”

  “You need to put on your glasses, if you’re not going to wear your mask.” When Taya thought she had a high enough stack of cushions, she kicked up her tailset and knelt. Good enough— nothing scraped against the floor.

  “Did you work out a covering protocol?” he asked.

  “We’ll consider the Impeccable Judiciary your peers.”

  “I would like to tour some of their factories while I’m here— that means talking to engineers.”

  “I’ll work it out.” She tried the chili-coated nuts while Liliana peeled an odd-looking green fruit. “Did you notice their clothing? We need to get you some new robes, and maybe more jewelry.”

  “I like the look of those trousers and tunics,” he mused. “The colors are too bright, but the cut looks comfortable. In this heat, I’m going to need something lighter to wear than this damn robe.”

  “What about the Indomitable?” Liliana asked, looking worried. “Can I go aboard?”

  “We have to find out more about it.” Cristof frowned. “Did you hear what Xu said about an Ondinium passenger?”

  “It can’t be Alister,” Taya protested. “And Neuillan’s dead.”

  “They aren’t the only Ondinium exiles— just the most infamous.”

  “If I speak to the Indomitable’s captain or crew,” Liliana said, “I can inquire about the passenger.”

  “Good idea,” Taya said. “Assuming they don’t leave port tonight— I’m sure they were as startled to see us as we were to see them.”

  “Moreso,” Cristof said, pensively. “They won’t have heard about ornithopters yet.”

  They quieted as they heard steps on the stairs.

  “Exalted,” Captain Amcathra called out.

  “Come in.”

  The lictor lifted the curtains and ducked inside. His sunburnt skin was damp from the heat, although his black uniform remained tightly buttoned.

  “The Firebrand’s stay has been approved and we are cleared to conduct our business. I will leave Lieutenant Imbrex in charge of the ship while I oversee your personal security.”

  “Good.” Cristof pushed a pillow toward him. “Take a seat. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  Amcathra looked around as if hoping to find a chair tucked in the corner of the small chamber. Seeing none, he reluctantly joined them on the floor. Taya poured him a glass of juice that he drained in one swallow.

  “Is that a Cabisi gun?” Cristof asked, his eyes dropping to the holster on Amcathra’s belt. The lictor withdrew the firearm, laying it on the table.

  “I traded my rifle for it,” he said.

  “I don’t think the Council will approve of you giving away its weapons,” Cristof said, picking up the pistol and checking to make sure it was unloaded. “But I can see why you made the trade. This is beautiful.”

  It was beautiful, Taya thought, for something designed to kill people. The weapon was made out of a dark-hued wood with a beautiful grain that was inlaid with brass, ivory, and polished stone. Its barrel was covered with etchings of water, fish, and birds.

  “It doesn’t seem like your style, Captain,” she commented.

  “I do not believe that I have a ‘style,’ Icarus,” he countered. “I do, however, respect fine craftsmanship. I have been informed that mass production does not exist in Cabiel. Every Cabisi weapon is unique to its maker.”

  “Then why would someone trade this for your rifle?” Cristof dragged his eyes away from the gun. “There’s nothing craftsmanlike about Ondinium weaponry.”

  “He was intrigued by the rifle’s compressed-air pump. Do you object to the trade, Exalted?”

  Cristof snorted, handing the weapon back.

  “It’s fine, as long the crew doesn’t swap all of its weapons for souvenirs.”

  “They will not,” Amcathra said firmly. “I offered the rifle after the inspection was over, to ensure that the gift would not be mistaken as a bribe, and I made it clear that it was a gift. I was not expecting him to give me his pistol in return, but I am not displeased with the exchange.”

  “It won’t have a rifle’s range,” Cristof said.

  “I will requisition another from the ship’s stores tomorrow.”

  When Xu returned, Cristof put on his mask again for their departure. The small group, now joined by Pr
ofessor Dautry, followed her down to the seawall, where lines of cannon guarded the port. Amcathra paused to study one, bringing the group to a straggling halt.

  “Do these interest you, Captain?” Xu asked in Ondinan.

  “Yes.” He laid a hand on the weapon’s chase, which was as ornately etched as his new pistol. “They are smaller than I would have expected.”

  “My son-in-law tells me that they are accurate to an effective range of over a mile,” the justiciar said. “I do not know how that compares to Ondinium artillery.”

  “Satisfactorily. May I?” Amcathra crouched to examine the weapon more closely. Taya could have sworn that he was on the verge of some shocking emotional breakthrough— like a smile.

  “That’s what he’d look like if he fell in love,” she murmured in Cristof’s ear. Her husband gave an undignified snort and she elbowed him in the ribs before he shattered his caste mystique. Dautry shot them a puzzled look.

  “Captain,” Taya said, raising her voice, “perhaps you could stroke the weapons some other time.”

  “Of course.” Amcathra rose, his stoic mask firmly in place again. “I did not intend to delay you, Exalted.”

  “You must meet my son-in-law, Captain,” Xu said, smiling fondly at the large Demican. “I suspect you two have much in common.”

  A line of vehicles awaited them on shore. Each vehicle had four wheels, with a seat in front next to the steering mechanism and two seats in back under a covered, festively painted cab.

  Cristof tapped Taya’s arm.

  “What do you call these?” she asked.

  “Quadracycles,” Xu replied in Cabisi, before switching to Ondinan. “We have few horses here; they are not well-suited to our islands.”

  “We don’t have many horses in Ondinium, either. But we don’t have any vehicles like this, either.”

  “Perhaps Ondinium’s streets are too steep for ’cyclists.”

  “I’m sure they would be.” Taya took her time getting Cristof into the cab, knowing that he’d be curiously examining the vehicle behind his mask. As she tucked in his robes, Captain Amcathra took the seat next to him.