Double Solitaire w-10

by George R. R. Martin

  It wasn't hard. We just had to look for a ridiculous foreigner asking stupid questions."

  The crackle of the foil as it was wadded into trash by Taj's fist was a very strong clue that Jay had again managed to walk straight into the middle of a cow patty.

  "I do not think a friendship with this woman is the wisest course you could pursue. I foresee a dark outcome."

  "You read tea leaves too? What, are you telling my fortune here?"

  "I'm not concerned about you, Mr. Ackroyd. I am concerned about not reawakening an old shame in this House --"

  "There is one really annoying habit that all you Takisians share. You can't cut to the chase. Just say it. Straight."

  "Hastet benasari Julali attracted the attention of a young nobleman, and they began a clandestine love affair. She should have known better. He certainly did. If he desired the woman, he needed only to petition to bring her into the House as a La'b." Jay correctly translated that as toy. It pissed him off. "My young relative sired a child on her -- an act absolutely forbidden by our law and custom. Because of her extreme youth, and the early stage of her pregnancy, her life was spared."

  "What did you do to her?"

  "The child was aborted. Hastet neutered."

  "That's what she meant about not being a marriageable commodity."

  "Our culture places a great value on children, Mr. Ackroyd."

  "Yeah, I can tell." Taj either missed or chose to ignore the sarcasm. "What happened to the dickweed who knocked her up?"

  "He was of the Most Bred."

  "Translate... nothing. I think she got the raw end of this deal."

  "She is lucky to be alive."

  "I'm going to see her again."

  "I would prefer you not."

  "Where's the harm? She's a little low-class nothing. I'm a little low-class nothing."

  Jay realized that, for whatever reason, he amused Taj. The old man suddenly smiled. "I suppose it will do no harm."

  "And as long as we're gettin' along so great -- tell Zabb to call off the fuzz. Since it seems Meadows and I have become permanent citizens, I'd like to get a look at the real estate."

  "I'm uncertain for whom that is a greater tragedy."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The most notable thing about the aftermath of battle is the stench. Acrid smoke catching in the back of the throat. The sickly sweet smell of blood, roasted flesh. Next is sound. The ears slowly recover from the screams and the discharge of powerful weapons. Then you hear the hopeless whimperings of the wounded and dying.

  Blaise had handled his first battle well, and Durg was pleased. The first blooding was always the most critical. Of course, his fears had been slight. The boy took an almost evil delight in inflicting pain. The question had been whether he was a coward as many bullies tended to be. He wasn't.

  Only one small doubt niggled and worried at the edges of the Morakh's mind and spoiled his pleasure in the victory. The boy had not confided in Durg the most essential part of his planned assault on House Rodaleh.

  The memory still made Durg's mouth go dry as he remembered how at the height of the battle Blaise had flung away his weapons and, using a throat mike and button speakers to amplify his voice, exhorted House Rodaleh's Tarhiji troops to join with him.

  And they had!

  So the dice had fallen well, but the action told Durg more plainly than a conversation that Blaise had begun to believe his own press. Invincible, invulnerable.

  And mad, Durg thought as he came around the garden wall and stopped to consider the eerie sight before him. Blaise standing on the back of a downed ship, while the Tarhiji, ranked seven or eight deep, stood gazing in silent wonder up at him. The rising sun at his back seemed to wash his trademark black clothing with blood, and Fel'k, the larger moon, threw its waning light across his face, deepening the eye sockets and heightening the jutting cheekbones and square chin. He was an imposing figure.

  "Hear me, my people. We shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills, and a thousand years from now men will still say this was their finest hour."

  Durg motioned to his fellow Morakh, and they shoved the ruling line of House Rodaleh forward to meet their conqueror. The Tarhiji fell back like snow touched with a hot blade.

  Blaise jumped down from the back of the dead ship and stared down into the face of Aleh, Raiyis of House Rodaleh. Beads of sweat suddenly popped out on Blaise's upper lip. So the man was prepared, and his shields were up, thought Durg. There wasn't time for a long, drawn-out mentatic battle with the blind watching. Durg forced the Raiyis to his knees before Blaise.

  "I have your House, Aleh brant Agat sek Vereem," Blaise said. "I don't need to offer you a second chance, but I'm a reasonable man, so I'm going to give you that chance. Will you join with House Vayawand?'

  Silence. Durg jabbed Aleh with his thumb. "Answer."

  "I do not speak with abominations," Aleh said, and by speaking to a Morakh he had made it clear he considered Blaise even lower.

  With a regretful shake of his head, Blaise drew his sword and offered it to a nearby Tarhiji. He then indicated the captured nobles of House Rodaleh with a sweep of his hand. "These are yours to do with as you please. I know what would please me." Blaise shoved Aleh toward the Tarhiji Blaise had armed.

  The man lifted desperate brown eyes. Blaise nodded encouragingly. "Remember, you have nothing to fear but fear itself."

  Hate replaced confusion, and the Tarhiji buried the blade in Aleh's chest.

  Blaise laid a hand as if in blessing on the Tarhiji's sweat-matted hair. "You may keep my sword. A gift of thanks from the Raiyis of House Vayawand."

  A cheer tore the air, and then the frenzy struck all the blind, and they rolled over the remaining Zal'hma at' Irg. Durg wasn't sure if at the end they were using weapons at all. A cold finger traced a line down the length of the Morakh's back.

  More to banish his unease than any real desire to discuss the event, Durg said, "Rodaleh was well into festival preparations. We can use their goods in place of House Vayawand's. It should save us substantial expense."

  They moved from the gardens into the House. Tarhiji servants filled the doorways, anxious for a glimpse of the conqueror. Blaise bestowed offhanded smiles and waves on them.

  "Great, but I'm still not going to this little party." Blaise stepped over a body crumpled in the center of the hall.

  Durg kicked it aside. "You must, you are Raiyis, and it is our most holy, most important celebration."

  "My grandfather's going to be there!" Raw panic edged the words.

  Closing his eyes in pained reaction, Durg prayed for patience. "What can he do? Female, pregnant, and our spies report that my Lord Zabb has wrested the House from her grasp. She is helpless."

  Blaise was shaking his head violently. "You don't understand how tricky he is. He'll get to me somehow. I've told you to kill him, but you won't do it! I won't be safe until he's gone!" The boy's voice was spiraling upward, and Durg was horribly aware of the listeners.

  "Hush, don't show your fear!" The glimmerings of a plan began to form. "And my lord, there is a way to neutralize your grandfather. And one which I think will give you pleasure."

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  "Hi. You got stuck for my lunch. I know you won't take money, so try these." Jay thrust out the bouquet of flowers and smiled down at Hastet. He peered past her shoulder to the room beyond. It was an occupational hazard of detectives.

  The view was heartening. She was a slob just like him. The room was a cluttered mess. A pair of shoes cocked shyly across each other as if ashamed of their position in the center of the room. Brightly colored pillows spilled off a sofa and onto the floor. There was a plate with a half-finished meal on the floor among the pillows. It was apparent that Hastet was not a furniture sitter. She sought the low ground.

  The holo was on. At first he thought it was a newscast of a bunch of p
si lords. Then he realized they weren't pretty enough, or delicate enough. They were half-starved Tarhiji actors prancing around pretending to be psi lords. Unfortunately it didn't look like a satire. Another piece of the puzzle about the relationship between ruled and ruler clicked into place.

  Hastet was still eyeing the flowers. "You really are hopeless," she finally said. "You don't give flowers to one of the bitshuf'di. And an odd number of flowers are either for your wife or your mother. When you're courting, it's an even number. And you never bring red -- that's the color for the dead."

  "You people are opaque. Is anything simple in this culture?"

  "Only dying."

  She was still blocking the door. "May I come in?"

  "Why?"

  "I want to apologize." That didn't seem to be winning any points. "I want to understand." That got her. Curiosity replaced hostility.

  "What?"

  Jay sucked a breath past his teeth, prepared, spoke. "Let me be up front about something -- I've been snooping. So I know a little about you." The pupils widened until the warm brown eyes seemed an implacable black. "And knowing what I know, I don't understand," he gestured toward the holo. "Why are you watching a soap opera about the trials and tribulations of a psi lord? Why don't you just rise up and kill them all?"

  "They read minds. Or have you forgotten? And what are you doing off your leash?"

  "I got a dispensation from big daddy Taj."

  Probably because the news out of Vayawand just kept getting scarier, Jay reflected, and they probably figured he wasn't going to head off to Vayawand on his own. They had figured right.

  With a quick flick of the wrist, Hastet threw the door fully open, pivoted, and walked back to her pillows. It was grudging, it was unspoken, it was an invitation. Jay accepted and entered.

  Just as his knees were buckling to drop him onto the pillows, a critter stuck its head straight up out of the cushions and let out a hiss like a tire deflating. It looked like a cross between a ferret and a feathered snake, with teeth that wouldn't be out of place on a moray eel. Jay dived one way while the critter dived back into the safety of the pillows.

  "Please excuse Haupi. She's a little shy," Hastet said, her voice catching on a chuckle. Despite his alarm, Jay had to admit that a smile became her. The lines about her mouth and between her brows softened, and there was that dimple again. Jay was a sucker for dimples.

  "You don't get many visitors," Jay correctly deduced.

  "No," Hastet admitted.

  "Takisians just keep getting dumber."

  The presence of so many guards had Jay's wee-wee trying to run for cover. It was the first time he'd actually entered Rarrana since Tisianne's seclusion. It was Lillyshit day, or whatever the hell they called it, so supposedly it was okay for him to be there, but it still put him in fear for his dick.

  Tisianne was arranging flowers and taking a long time about it. Jay's idea of flower arranging was a jelly jar and water. He had to admit the results so far were really pretty. Tis picked up one blossom, and the air was filled with a gentle chiming.

  "Oh cool, is that the flower?" Meadows asked.

  "Yes." Tis offered it to the ace.

  Jay reached out and lifted a blossom from the table. Several of the guards tensed. Jay cringed back into his chair and folded his hands in his lap. There was a smile lurking at the corners of Tisianne's mouth as she tossed him a flower. Jay hid his embarrassment by studying the lilac and white blossoms. They were hard, and the stamens apparently acted like the clappers of a bell. He noticed wounds on the stem.

  "They pulled off the thorns."

  "Yes," Tisianne said. "They don't do that for the men who enjoy this art. It's funny because men are really far more vulnerable than women." She selected another flower from an overflowing basket. "What news from the wide world, Jay?"

  "You've heard as much as I have, and it's all shitty --"

  Zabb walked through the doors of the suite, and Jay, Mark, and Tis all stiffened.

  "Cousin," Zabb said, and gave Tisianne a buss on the cheek.

  "Is there some reason that you are allowed to annoy me with impunity?" Tis asked in that sharp, snotty tone that always made Jay's teeth ache.

  Zabb smiled sweetly down at his cousin. "I'm the Raiyis. All women are my daughters... potential wives. I can see you whenever I choose in whatever manner I choose."

  "And I may choose to put that grandiose fiction to the test," Tis challenged.

  "Let's not disturb the beldams again, shall we?" Zabb dropped with a sigh into a chair.

  "Then leave me alone. Haven't you done enough to me?"

  "You're lucky I didn't --"

  "Kill me." Tisianne selected another bloom from the overflowing basket. Continued in that same sweetly soothing voice. "Yes, every day as I look about me, consider my situation, I am again struck with how much I owe you."

  Meadows stepped in. "Hey, man, it's like you said. You can visit us anytime. We only get to see Jay once in a while. Why don't you split and come back later?"

  "I need to discuss the Crossing Festival with my cousin."

  "I will not attend," Tis snapped.

  "You will!"

  Jay watched as Tisianne's fingers tightened convulsively at the rap of command in that cold voice, and the delicate stem snapped. She regarded the drooping flower with annoyance.

  "He'll be there. The Ideal knows what he might try," Tisianne argued.

  "It's Festival, you'll be safe." Zabb helped himself to a piece of fruit from the bowl on the table. "And speaking of your so-charming grandson, I want to discuss the speech he delivered."

  "What about it?"

  "Taj and I were wondering if this power is a side effect of this jumping power? It is having an electrifying effect on the Tarhiji planet-wide."

  "Maybe because it's hitting home some truths?" Jay said.

  Zabb ignored him. "And you heard what happened at Rodaleh. We cannot fight if we cannot trust the troops at our backs. You said Blaise possesses a powerful mind control. It is possible it can sway thousands? Work across a bounce/cast?"

  Tis shook her head. "You are looking for a magic explanation. Jay is right, the truth is he has found our Achilles' heel and is exploiting it."

  "If you want to hang onto your own people, you better start offering them a mentat in every pot, and a chicken in every garage," Jay said.

  Zabb frowned, confused. Mark stepped in. "You know, how a politician will promise anything just to get elected."

  Zabb was staring at them both as if they'd suddenly begun speaking in tongues. And then it hit Jay. On Takis nobody got elected to nothin'. The art of the stump had never been invented. There was no demagoguery on Takis because there were no demagogues.

  That was Blaise's secret power. Not wild card, not the jumper skill, not his quarter Takisian blood. In a fit of excitement Jay explained his sudden insight. Tisianne looked sick, Mark thoughtful. Zabb was still confused.

  Meadows slowly shook his head. "This is fucking awesome, Blaise is bringing down an entire planetary culture with the power of the Lie."

  "Well," Jay grunted, "he better get a new speech writer. At Rodaleh we heard Roosevelt and Churchill."

  Zabb shook his head like a horse afflicted with flies. "Well, here is my truth. We will not mix our blood with that of the Tarhiji."

  "Then I guess we better start studying Vayet," Jay grunted.

  That pissed him off, and Zabb left with only another reminder that Tisianne would be attending Festival, and he'd send over her mother's jewels.

  Tis sighed and settled into a chair. Meadows fluttered around her nervously. "You okay? He didn't get to you, did he?"

  "No, no. Right now Zabb's machinations, Blaise's political posturings, the fate of the planet, and the future of Takisiankind are very secondary to my child." She laid a hand on her stomach. "Personally I hope Zabb and Blaise beat each other to death with their respective peni."

  "What is this Festival shit?" Jay asked.

  "
It's the holiest and most important celebration on Takis. It celebrates our passage through darkness to find and settle the Crystal World."

  "But Blaise is going to be there?" Mark asked.

  "Yes. Everyone will be there."

  "What, every House?" Jay asked.

  "Every House. Every member of every House."

  "Well, shit." Jay shoved his hands into his pockets and started pacing. "This solves --" He broke off and looked to Meadows. "You got the jammer?"

  "Yeah."

  "Fire it up." Meadows located the Network device and did so. "So Blaise and the body will be at the hop?"

  "Yes. How many times do I have to --"

  "So I pop them both here --"

  "No." Tis's eyes had gone dark with some undefined emotion.

  "What do you mean, no?"

  "First, you won't be there. You're not family."

  Jay waved that aside. "So I sneak in. I've got a Ph.D. in hiding in bushes."

  "The Festival is held on the South Pole."

  "Oh fuck." Jay kicked a chair. "So I stow away."

  "On a living, mind-reading ship?" Meadows asked logically.

  There was some sort of internal struggle going on in Tisianne's soul. Jay could read it in the conflicting emotions washing across that little girl's face.

  "We can't," she finally said. "We swear peace at Festival. No one's ever broken it. I can't do this. I can't let you do this."

  "I can end this thing in about two seconds --"

  "No."

  "You'll have your body back --"

  "No!"

  "Meadows and I can go home --"

  "No!"

  "And you're not going to let me do it because it's Christmas?"

  It cost her. Her teeth gently sketched at her lower lip, then her expression hardened. "That is correct."

  Jay checked just inside the kitchen door. Both big ovens were fired up, and all the burners on the stove. Steam formed worm tracks on the window in the back door. Hastet was alternating between making sugar flowers on a multitiered cake, and giving an occasional stir to a bubbling sauce.

  A young man, his plump face red with exertion and heat, was creaming butter in a giant ceramic bowl. Haupi went hissing and rollicking across the floor. Her wings were up, but she seemed to have about as much lift as a dodo.