“See, Diva? I told you!”
“Fine!” snapped Diva, withdrawing the copy of her Coriolan dagger and slipping it deftly into the scabbard she wore around her waist. “Just fine!” She glared around her at the walls of the 21st floor of the 256th skyrise and then marched out.
“Did I say something wrong Six?” asked Arcan.
“Nah. Girls are just like that. Don’t worry about it.”
“Then I am happy not to be a girl.”
“Well you would be, wouldn’t you? I mean … stands to reason,” Six shook his head. “Females!”
“Now how do you think you are going to practice?” Cimma’s voice cut in, reminding Six that he was supposed to be in a class of self-defense. He looked down at the floor and shuffled his feet. “And it is no good pretending that none of it was your fault. I was here, listening to every word.”
“But, Cimma—” the Kwaidian began.
“But, Cimma, nothing.” Grace’s mother frowned. “You know how important these classes are. You, at least, should be happy to spend some time learning to fight better.” The Sellite woman shifted her weight on the orthosupport she was using to help her stand, and took a couple of steps towards Six, who looked at her warily.
“Now, Cimma,” he said. “I’ll get Diva back, I promise. Hang on a moment! Just having a bit of fun, is all.”
“My classes are not supposed to be fun.” Grace’s mother lifted her chin.
Six muttered under his breath.
“Did you say something?” She took a step forward, which caused Six to take a step back.
“Nothing. Arcan, can you ask Diva to come back, please? Tell her I am sorry or whatever. Tell her we have to finish the class.”
“She is coming,” Arcan said, after a brief pause. “She seems a bit cross though.”
“Terrific! Two cross … err, I mean … that will make the fight all the more enjoyable.” And I thought Atheron’s classes were the worst thing you could possibly have! He looked at the Sellite woman out of the corner of his eye. She was still recovering from the wounds received when the Sellites had attacked, and needed constant support. Luckily, Arcan had been able to mould her firstly an orthogel chair, and now an orthogel supportive column. Even though a full month had passed since the attack, the bruises along her face were still clearly visible. She had decided to appoint herself fitness and fight instructor, and nobody dared gainsay her.
At last Diva reappeared, and they began to weave to and fro in the training ritual Cimma insisted upon. Diva had a particularly bloodthirsty look on her face, and Six was hard-pressed to avoid being marked by the blunted blades they used in these training sessions. Diva’s dagger couldn’t slice him up like her real one could, but he knew from past experience that it could give him some very nasty bruises. Soon he was gasping for breath, and Diva was grinning at him in a distinctly maniacal way.
“Now, nomus, do you still think women are stupid?” she asked, panting but still taking good care to move her feet in the prescribed way. Cimma was a hard taskmaster.
“I never said they were!” said Six, indignant. “In fact; I believe I said they weren’t!”
“I know what you were thinking!”
“You can read thoughts now, your ladyship?” he asked.
“I can read yours! The few you have, that is.”
Six smiled into her face, and then executed a particularly intricate foot manoeuvre, causing Diva to tumble onto her knees. In a second the blunted version of his Kwaidian kris was at her throat. He gave a wicked grin. “I seem to have won the fight,” he said. “Now who would have believed that?”
“You took advantage of me!” she cried.
“And quite right too,” Cimma said. “That is what fights are all about.”
“Let me stand up, no-name. I want to have a rematch!”
“Why? So that I can beat you again?”
“You and whose army?”
“Yeah, yeah. Scary!” He rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you ever admit it when you lose?”
There was a distinct sound of tooth grating against tooth. “Take your position!” she ordered.
Six gave a theatrical sigh, but obeyed. He knew he would have a hard fight to catch her off her guard again. They were well-matched as adversaries – his wiry toughness almost making up for Diva’s superior skill. He had been lucky to break through, but he wasn’t about to admit it.
Under Cimma’s scrutiny, they began to square off again. This time Cimma stopped them several times, correcting their foot positions until she was entirely satisfied. Neither had the satisfaction of beating the other, for the class came to an end before either gave in. As they walked out of the chamber Six put a hand on Diva’s arm. “I have to get back to Kwaide. Will you come with me?”
“You want to rescue your sister from the birth shelter?”
Six nodded. “I can’t leave her there any longer. Not knowing how she is – what is happening to her – is eating away at me. Will you come?”
Diva gave a slow nod. “Sure. On one condition though—”
Six raised a cautious eyebrow, but waved a hand to invite her to go on.
“—that you come with me to Xiantha.”
“Xiantha? What in the world do you want to go to that Sacras-forgotten planet for? The little I know about it is enough to keep me away from it for life!”
Diva scowled. “I would have thought riding the Xianthes would have been just up your street, Kwaidian.”
“There is that, of course.” Six cheered up. “Even if there is nothing else on that wretched Cian moon.”
Diva smiled. “You’ll come?”
“What’s the point of the visit though? You don’t know anyone on Xiantha.”
The smile faded. “That is where you are wrong. I have an … extended family on Xiantha.”
Six suddenly caught on. “Oh, sure, Diva, I’m really sorry. I had forgotten about … at least, not forgotten, just … err …”
She sighed. “It doesn’t matter, Six. I haven’t forgotten, and that’s the important thing.”
“You want to find out what happened to your … err …”
“Oocytes,” Diva supplied. “However decimillion of them there are. Yes. I want to find out what happened to them. And then, when I do, I am going to bring them back here.”
“All of them?” Six stared at her. “Where are you planning to put them?”
She shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“I should just think it does!” Six was appalled. “I mean, they might have been turned into babies by now. We could be talking of up to two hundred thousand babies. You can’t just stash them in an orthobubble!”
Diva bit her lip. “No, I suppose you’re right. It may not be a practical solution. But it doesn’t matter … I have to go anyway. I need to find out what is happening to them all.”
“No problem. We can go to both Kwaide and Xiantha as soon as Arcan can transport us there. What about Grace?”
“I don’t know. She might want to stay with Arcan.”
“In any case we will have to wait at least until after this big meeting of all the heads of the binary system. We can’t leave Valhai until Arcan has presented his case.”
“That’s next week isn’t it? Well, I guess we can wait that long.”
Six looked up as a shadow crossed the doorway. “This is a fine time to arrive for practice, Grace!”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that I went up to the 48th floor to pick up some things, and I forgot we were supposed to be here.”
“You forgot practice?” Cimma was shocked.
“Magestra, I said I am sorry.”
Diva looked at her friend closely. “Are you all right, Grace?”
Grace moved uncomfortably. “Of course,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s just that you look a bit … I don’t know … down?”
Grace smiled. “I’m fine. How did practice go?”
Six gave a snort. “I beat Diva.”<
br />
“Once!” snapped Diva.
“And how many times did you beat me, my lady?” said Six. “Oh yeah, that’s right. None.”
Grace found herself grinning again at Diva’s cross face. “It must have been your lucky day, Six,” she said. “By the way, Vion was on the interscreen.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing much.” Grace took Six’s wooden kris out of his hand and tested its weight before making a couple of fake passes with it. “He says Atheron is ingratiating himself with Mandalon.”
“That can’t be good,” said Six, giving a shudder as he thought of the educational head of house and remembered the interminable hours of his classes. “If the devious Atheron gets involved with the running of Sell he’s bound to cause trouble. Surely Mandalon will tell him to get lost? Why would he need the educational head of house to help him take decisions? ”
Grace shook her head. “I don’t know, but I gather Atheron has been seen making several non-virtual visits to the 1st skyrise.”
“Perhaps he is tutoring Mandalon’s son in the arts of being head of all Sell,” said Cimma. “This Mandalon is 49th generation, so Mandalon 50 must be nine or ten now?”
“Let’s hope that’s it,” said Diva. “Although I wouldn’t wish Atheron’s teaching on anybody!” She brandished her dagger in front of her menacingly.
Grace immediately began to spar with her, lunging and parrying with Six’s kris. “Oh,” she told them, apparently as an afterthought, “I forgot to tell you. Vion said he may be going to move to Coriolis.”
Diva faltered, which gave Grace the unheard-of opportunity to break through her guard. “What? Coriolis? My Coriolis?”
“Your Coriolis?” echoed Six. “Excuse me, your majesty, but last time I checked you weren’t too welcome on your Coriolis. You know. Banished. Almost thrown in the wild animal pit. Little things like that.”
Diva decided that was beneath her notice. “Why should the Sellites go to Coriolis? Even if it is only Vion? Haven’t they got enough with the whole of Valhai to themselves?”
Grace gave Six back his blade. “That’s just it. I gather Vion’s father has decided that if they have to leave Sell then he would take his medical house to Coriolis. He thinks it is the best option if Valhai is given to Arcan.”
“Of course it is the best option.” Diva nodded. “But I can’t see my father letting him settle there.”
“It is just the sort of thing your father would do,” Six told her. “He practically idolizes the Sellites. He would probably lie down and invite them to walk right over him.”
Diva made a face, and gave a grudging nod. “You may be right.”
Six’s jaw dropped. “Right? Did my ears hear that correctly?” he asked. “Did the great Diva just say I was right? That’s another first.” Then he paused to think, and looked sideways at Grace. “So Vion is just meekly going to do what his father wants him to, is he?”
Grace shrugged. “I don’t know. He said it was just a possibility. They won’t do anything until the future of Valhai has been decided.” She appeared to be making a careful examination of her hands. “He has a duty to his family.”
“Yes, I know, but I thought he—” he broke off to rub his shin, “—that hurt, Diva!”
“Shh!”
“Don’t shush me! I was only going to say that I thought Vion was—”
“—Don’t.” Diva tried to convey a meaningful look at Six, but the Kwaidian was determined.
“I thought—”
“—You shouldn’t. It might give you a headache.”
Six gasped and quite forgot what he had been going to say. Diva gave him a provoking smile, waved her wooden dagger in a salute, and sauntered out of the receiving chamber before he could recover his breath. He glared after her, determining to get his own back later.
Chapter 2
IT WAS THE day of the meeting, and Six was looking around at the various delegations gathered in the Valhai Voting Dome. The Coriolis delegation was led by Diva’s father who was swathed in a gold weave Coriolan Ceremonious Robe. He was surrounded by a swarm of similarly-clad minions all of whom had imitated his form of dressing but none of whom were quite so splendidly attired. Then Six found himself stiffening as his gaze fell on the Kwaidians, standing next to the Coriolans. The same bunch of thin pins that had sent him against his will to be an apprentice to the donor program on Valhai! He muttered something under his breath about dust and Grace glanced sideways at him curiously.
“Nothing,” he said.
“It didn’t sound like nothing.”
“Just old acquaintances from my own planet.”
“I see,” Grace gave an understanding nod, and he felt her hand fleetingly touch his shoulder.
He smiled, and straightened up. She was right. There would be no incapacitating drugged dart thrown at him today. He would ignore the heady heat of revenge which was slowly burning a path through his body, from the pit of his stomach up to the top of his head. He took a deep breath and looked past the Kwaidian delegation – all ancients dressed in sackcloth – to the Xianthans. Each member of their delegation wore rainbow garments, richly coloured and textured, and flowing out behind them. It made them seem twice as exotic as the other races present. Lastly, his gaze reached the Cesans. As befitted the original Sell home world, they were dressed identically to the Sells themselves, gowned in discrete but expensive clothes.
Mandalon came to a stop, glowered at Six and Cimma, and then at Grace. “I will not speak to excommunicated Sellites,” he said.
“Then speak to me.” Diva’s voice came from behind the Sellite and he turned as she appeared in an orthobubble, which shimmered slightly and then stayed in place around her.
Mandalon looked at Diva for a moment expressionlessly. “Very well,” he said, “That will be acceptable.”
“It will not!” There was a distinct rustle as everybody turned their heads to see who had spoken.
Diva’s father had risen to his feet, and was quivering with outrage. “This person is unfit to speak to a system meeting. She has been repudiated by her family. She may not represent anybody!”
There was a hum of agreement amongst his cohorts.
Six made a sound in the base of his throat, and Grace put one arm in front of him, in case he decided to fight for Diva’s honour forcibly. “Quiet, Six,” she murmured.
“That man wanted to throw his own daughter to the Tattula cats!” he said.
“Six, leave it!”
“You were in the cat-meat deal, too, you know.” He didn’t want to let it go.
“You will be worse than cat-meat if you don’t shut up,” Grace whispered fiercely.
“Oh, very well, but … ouch!” A heavy dig in the ribs finally silenced him. He subsided but telegraphed Grace a look that promised future revenge.
Mandalon was smiling. “Then it appears there is nobody suitable to speak for the alien?”
The bubble surrounding Diva divided into two. One remained surrounding her; the other formed smaller bubbles until it traced the vague outlines of a head on a body. “I can speak for myself,” it said in Arcan’s normally deep voice. All those present heard him clearly in their heads, just as if the words had been spoken out loud.
There was a running whisper of amazement as those present assimilated the new situation. Mandalon glanced towards his assistants. They appeared uncertain, and eventually parted to make way for another figure, one whose white hair was far too familiar.
“Atheron!” Grace exclaimed “Oh no! He is in cahoots with Mandalon, then!”
The two men consulted, and then Mandalon took a step forward.
“Almagest, Cian and Valhai, the perfect heavenly triangle. May their orbits remain stable!” The Sellite leader intoned, his words endowing him with authority.
“And may the flares on Almagest remain quiescent!” replied Arcan, who had learned the protocol of the system.
“You are going to represent yourself at this meeting?
” Mandalon asked.
The shadowy figure inclined its ‘head’.
“Very well. The Sells call Atheron to explain our position.”
Grace and Six exchanged horrified looks. Both had a strong conviction that nothing good was going to come of this.
The white-haired figure that they knew so well oozled its way forwards. “Thank you. Elders of Coriolis, Kwaide, Cesis, Xiantha and Valhai: the aim of this meeting is to discuss the possibility that the alien life form has a right to Valhai. We, the Sellite people, can prove that such a right does not exist. We demand that you remove this alien from lands duly granted to the Sellites.” The collective gasp which arose from his words appeared to gratify Atheron. He smiled thinly, and then went on, “The alien, known as Arcan, is not endemic to Valhai, and therefore has no right to inhabit it.”
There was a deep look of satisfaction on Atheron’s face. He had planned this, Grace realized, and the idea had resulted in the educational tutor scaling several positions in the Valhai hierarchy. No wonder he was looking so pleased with himself!
Diva’s father hauled himself to his feet again until he was facing the gathered international community. “Alien!” He peered over in Arcan’s direction. “What have you to say to that? Are you endemic to this planet or not?”
“I am,” Arcan’s deep voice replied. “In any case, I have lived here on this planet for the last thirty thousand years, which is longer than the Sellites.”
“The question is not, however, how long you have lived here,” said Diva’s father, “rather, whether you have the right to claim this planet as your own.” There were muttered agreements all around the chamber.
Grace noticed that Diva was staring at her father as if he was an unknown. The Coriolan girl had adopted a threatening stance, with one hand on her belt, just above the hilt of her ornate dagger.
“Of course I can claim it as my own,” Arcan insisted. “There can be no doubt”
“I am afraid that is untrue,” Atheron interrupted, licking his lips. “Your biological markers bear no relation whatsoever to any other life in the system. We therefore assert that you are of extra-Sacran origin, and have no rights at all here.” He sat down, turning to make a side comment to Mandalon, which appeared to amuse the leader.
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