“Not so, sir. Truth, welcome or unwelcome, would be a refreshing addition to difficult negotiations. As a high-level valet for visiting dignitaries, I am programmed to judge subtleties.”
“Well, you’ll be starved for material with me,” I told him frankly, arms outspread to indicate the depths of my sincerity. “I am not at all subtle.”
The robot housing zipped noiselessly over and once again ran its optical sensors up and down my person.
“There are subtleties to you, my lord, but they are not of the usual kind. You are interested in people. Perhaps you would care to exchange observations at some point during your visit? It would add useful information to my database.”
I smiled broadly.
“I could ask for nothing better. And afterwards as well, if you like! I keep an active correspondence with many friends and acquaintances. Some of them are LAIs like you.”
A momentary pause from Excelsis meant his computational circuits did complex calculations that would have taken me the rest of my life. He was looking me up. I was under no illusions that he could not read every Infogrid entry that had been made by or on me since before I was born, no matter what levels of secure code had been written into them. LAIs shared information of specific interest to themselves and others like them. But I was pleased when his eyes lit up again.
“I see you do, sir. It would be my privilege.”
“The privilege would be mine,” I said, with a bow. “And if you would be so kind, over the course of my visit here, to let me know if anyone shows too deep an interest in my personal files or correspondence, it would be of great help to me. I am here on an important mission.”
The optic on the right appeared to flicker, as if Excelsis winked at me.
“Of course, sir. I am programmed to assist you in any way.”
I went to peruse his suggestions with my thumb upon my lower lip.
“Hmm,” I said, deep in thought. Either would do. The first selection was the most formal of summer day suits. I adored the fabric, a butter-soft challis in toasty bronze. The trousers were so comfortable I had had the tailor make several in a host of different colors. The slim-fitting, high-collared shirt that went underneath was crisp but not oppressively so. I would not mind donning that, even in the heat and humidity of the afternoon.
The other was my fortune-telling robe. The broad sash of the belt with its modest gold closure only emphasized the broad swirl of the skirts. The constellations picked out in gold, silver and gemstones tickled my soul.
Excelsis’s tall frame moved around the bed.
“Are you certain that you wish to recommend this one?” I asked in delighted disbelief.
“Her Excellence studies the skies, my lord,” Excelsis said.
“What a coincidence! So do I.” I had an intimation from reading her Infogrid entries that the Autocrat’s interests might coincide somewhat with mine, and thought of many ways of sharing my enthusiasm.
The excitement was great but temporary. I recalled my mother’s admonishments and recalled how difficult the situation was between my family and that of the Autocrat, not just the precarious relationship between our two nations. I disliked the unfamiliar notion that I was beginning to think like a diplomat, but this new responsibility impinging on my psyche was like a pin in the ribs. I could only ignore it for a moment or two before its insistence demanded attention. With regret, I moved away from temptation. “Ah, but I need to look dully professional. The suit it is, then.”
With no further hesitation, I allowed the valet to assist me in dressing. Excelsis fastened the last button on the cuff, and rolled away to allow me to examine myself in the mirror. As usual, I wore my clothes well.
“Perfect!” I said, my eyes upon my reflection. “Don’t you think so?”
“My lord?”
I spun, experiencing surprise, horror and finally indignation, as I recognized Parsons’s voice. He had entered my apartments without my hearing him, which I never do, and stood beholding me with a blank expression, which he always did.
“My clothing, Parsons,” I said, with preternatural calm. “This is the outfit that I plan to wear for my initial meeting with the Autocrat.” I threw out a hand. “Before you say anything, Parsons, know that I will not hear a word against my choice. I am in a new place, with much that is unknown about me. I want to be entirely open to the experiences that are before me, and I believe that this garment will aid me in keeping my mind aware and my presence unremarkable.”
His expression did not change an iota.
“I had no intention of protesting, my lord. It is a good choice. I believe that it will serve you well on this visit. But not at this time.”
“You don’t like it?” I blinked, my wits arraying themselves around me in their usual places.
“It is self-effacing, to be sure, my lord.”
I looked down at the golden cloth.
“It’s the latest trend at home, Parsons. I would not have called it self-effacing. Glowingly astute, I would say. Subtly devastating is another term I might employ.”
“But would you call it appropriate for the event?”
I peered at him, studying that epicene profile with deep concern.
“You look like Parsons, but something about your portrayal does not ring true. If there is a ransom to be paid, please tell me the amount and I will have the sum conveyed to whatever drop point you require. I would like to have my trusted aide-de-camp returned to me at once.”
The tall, austere figure raised his eyebrow as though he were the genuine article.
“This is no time for humor, my lord,” he replied. “I agree, the suit is apt for its purpose.”
“Of course you do. If there is anything that I do understand, it is sartorial splendor and the psychology that accompanies it. Yet, I hear the unspoken word ‘but’ in your demeanor.”
“Of course, my lord,” Parsons said, as granite-faced as a cliff. “Her Excellence will find your costume nonthreatening. But I believe you have more to offer her.”
My eyebrows went up, as much in alarm as curiosity.
“What, then?” I asked. “Excelsis has considerable experience dressing those who are going to wait upon the Autocrat. He only chose two of my outfits for the moment.”
“And why did you dismiss his second choice?” Parsons inquired.
“Because . . . because it is my fortuneteller’s robe,” I said. “It occurred to me that although the robe is one of my favorite garments, you have been dismissive of my latest enthusiasm, when you were not actively setting a tripwire for my feet in relation to it. Do you have an explanation at this time for that event with which you would care to favor me?”
“A costume is not harmful, as long as it is not used on formal occasions when other dress is called for,” he intoned.
He was making an excuse for me to keep it. I did not wish to look a proffered equine in its dental array.
“And you trust me to make use of it only at appropriate times?” I pressed.
“I do not trust to chance, sir. I expect you will use your best judgment.”
“That was almost a compliment, Parsons.”
“Was it, my lord? Forgive my slip. But there is no time for a lengthy discussion,” Parsons said, dismissing my cares without changing his expression an iota. “If you would allow me to interject my argument, I believe that Excelsis is correct in assuming that the robe would be of interest to the Autocrat. It is up to you whether to change.”
I did not need to be urged twice. I stripped out of the golden jacket as though it were on fire. Parsons removed himself from the bedroom while I doffed the remaining parts of the outfit and began to don the others.
Undergarments in a dark color were de rigeur, so as not to embarrass me in case of a sudden updraft. An underrobe of pale gray-blue silver-infused gauze interceded between my skin and the main garment. The robe itself settled upon my shoulders like a cloud. I ran my hands down the front, enjoying the smooth texture of the fabric.
I felt as though I were welcoming back an old friend.
I turned this way and that before the mirrors, enjoying the effect. Excelsis had to race around me to secure the wide embroidered belt and the pouches that depended therefrom to contain my viewpad, the plaque inscribed with my official credentials, and other essential items, including my great-great-grandmother’s Tarot cards.
Another look in the mirror confirmed me as a very up-to-date, modern wizard. The outer robe’s V-neck opened dramatically upon the self-effacing silver cloth. Displayed upon my breast was my lucky circuit, almost invisible blue wires supporting the nine purple, two white, one red and one peridot green LEDs that glowed gently but evocatively. I sensed rather than heard the comforting hum the device produced.
“Yes,” I said, turning this way and that with blissful contentment at what I beheld. “That is much better. What do you think, Parsons?”
He consulted his viewpad, although I know he didn’t need to.
“The time is nearly upon us. Would you care to go? I have persuaded the Lady Jil and her friends to await you in the hotel foyer. If you are ready?”
“I am more than ready!” I said. I felt buoyed to the skies. I thanked Excelsis, who retired to his niche, and followed Parsons out the door.
CHAPTER 30
With my cousin’s hand tucked into the crook of my elbow, I marched behind the ambassador and her aide. My crew and Jil’s entourage followed in our wake. Parsons brought up the rear like an avuncular tugboat. We departed the glorious but rather empty lobby of the Raffles and emerged into crowds and sunshine. Rather than squint blindly about, I pulled the hood of my robe up so that it protruded a finger’s length beyond my forehead, protecting my eyes. Jil and her ladies raised sunproof parasols to shield them from the light. My crew, all in formal uniform, had already donned their caps.
The humidity, held at bay by the atmospheric services in the hotel, found itself at liberty to insinuate itself into our acquaintance. Thanks to the silver in my underrobe, I knew I was safe from the odors of perspiration, but nothing except a cool breeze could keep the moisture from springing forth on every inch of my person.
“Stay under the eaves,” Janice advised. “The sun here will eat you alive.” She gestured to us to move back into the black stripe of shade that extended three or more meters from the edge of the building. It was markedly cooler thereunder. I let out a grateful sigh as a slight breeze found its way into my enveloping hood.
The locals took advantage of the darkened walkways as a matter of course, but only for perambulation. Though colorful booths with merchandise for sale lined the street ahead, all extended outward into the sun. Only pedestrians, their pets, baby carriages and the occasional mobility vehicle occupied the shadowed space. The population of Nacer was almost entirely Uctu, with a scattering of humans and Wichus. The Uctus were well but lightly dressed, their tails switching gently from side to side as they walked. Many spoke on viewpads or pocket secretaries. As many listened to entertainment devices via ear buds, which stuck out from the sides of their earless heads like colorful corks. Children in carts and hoverchairs played with toys or holograms that glimmered on their trays. Few of them, if any, paid attention to us. If I caught the eyes of a passerby, very occasionally, I smiled and nodded politely. They smiled back just as politely, but hurried on.
At the first intersection, I saw that wide stretches of opaque cloth extended from one side of the street to the other, from one set of eaves to the next in each direction, so that walkers did not have to expose themselves when they crossed the street.
Though my home city of Taino occupied a desert environment, it was not as extreme in either heat or humidity as Nacer. Yet both were hot climates. I mused upon that as we made our way through the streets. The predominant colors were very distinct. Whereas Taino was distinctive for its moss green, terracotta and cream, a reflection of the high, weathered cliffs around it, Nacer favored bright yellows, bright whites and especially faded plum, the color of the paving stones underfoot and the predominant material of which the oldest buildings were constructed. I sensed the same extent of history here that I did at home, but so different in its origins.
Public spaces abounded. Every three streets, a square was set aside as a small park. Thick greenery and arching, mature trees lived within the confines of a low stone wall. Eight gates allowed access from every corner and the middle of each block. Usually a statue or a fountain was set in the middle at the hub of eight stone paths. A characteristic of these lovely parks to indicate that here was a place not created by and for Humans was that the seats and benches were made to accommodate tails. Most of the seats were backless, but where a back was provided to lean upon, a horizontal niche was carved, either facing to the left or the right, into which one’s tail—were one an Uctu, a Croctoid or a Solinian—could slide.
The parks were pleasantly shady havens against the brutal sun. The ambience was cool and moist. There, and only there, did I hear the buzz of insects. Flies with bodies of jewel colors hovered above open flowers or inches from the cascading water of the ornamental fountains.
“I keep waiting for one of these fine people to shoot his tongue out and eat one of those flies,” I said, with a glance over my shoulder at Redius.
“Impolite eating before others,” Redius said, without perturbation. “Care to squat and make fire? Or too unadvanced you?”
I laughed, as did the others in my company. His disregard for my dignity and rank was one of the ways I knew he, and the others, were my true friends. But Jil’s hand tightened upon my arm.
“They hate us,” Jil said.
I glanced at her. She did look nervous, a complete contrast to her normal, confident self.
“Whatever is the matter?” I asked.
“Can’t you tell?” she asked, her eyes large with worry. “They are judging us, and they don’t like what they see.”
I clenched my lucky circuit in my free hand and contemplated the people around us. I implored the powers-that-be to grant me the ability to read their natures and their intentions toward us.
As I watched the Uctus coming and going, I saw nothing that made me feel concerned for our welfare, but something began to intrude upon my consciousness, something that I had never felt before. These people were indifferent to us, to me and to Jil. My cousin was unaware of the reason. The truth was something that I had learned only lately and was classified so deeply that perhaps fewer than thirty in the entire Imperium knew. We of the noble class were different, and deliberately so, among Human beings. All other Humans had a genetic predilection to find us appealing and worthy of veneration. The Uctu, not being born within the borders of the Imperium, nor Human in any way, had not been so conditioned. Therefore, when they looked at us, all they saw were two more Humans.
For the first time in our lives, we were among a majority of people who felt nothing special for us or our rank. It was pure courtesy that gave us the warm reception.
For the first time in our lives, we were mere Humans. It was an odd sensation. I admit that I didn’t like it, preferring the comfortable womb of being in the midst of a population that thought highly of me from the first moment they saw me, but I was prepared to cope. Jil was not. It made her very nervous, even fearful. Her cohort did their best to calm her down.
“They don’t dislike us,” I said. “I will prove it.” I held out my hand to stop the first people coming our way on the new street, a mature female with red head scales and her immature daughter with blue head scales, both fashionably dressed. The rest of our party juddered to a halt in our wake.
“Pardon?” she said.
I employed my newly acquired fluency, and had the pleasure of seeing her dark eyes widen.
“Excuse me, madam. Forgive my poor accent. We are newcomers to the Autocracy, and this is our first time on your planet. We are very glad to be here. I hope you welcome outsiders like us.”
The mother’s mouth opened to emit the breathy sound that served Uctu as a la
ugh.
“Welcome indeed!” she exclaimed, in creditable Imperium Standard. “Name yours?”
I continued to speak in Uctu.
“I am Lord Thomas Kinago, cousin to the Emperor Shojan XII, and this is my cousin Lady Jil Loche Nikhorunkorn.”
“Welcome all,” the female said, touching her own breast, then her daughter’s shoulder. “Noria Debari, I; daughter Chedia Debari.”
I bowed very deeply. “It is an honor to meet both of you.”
She laughed again.
“Honor ours. City, planet enjoy,” she said, with a wave toward the buildings and the sky. “Chedia, come.”
I bowed once more as they went on their way, then took Jil’s arm.
“Do you see? They are friendly and kind.”
“It doesn’t feel normal,” she said.
“But it is,” Marquessa said, catching up. She caught Jil’s hand and squeezed it. “I’ve been here before. The Uctu are nice people. Really. They have different customs, but there’s nothing to worry about.”
Nothing if one is not caught up in a crime, I thought to myself, but I did not voice my thoughts. I did not want to add to Jil’s worries. This trip was meant to be a pleasant escape for her from her self-inflicted troubles. Sometimes the best defense was a good offense.
“We won’t be able to get up to our normal tricks here, cousin,” I said, and was rewarded with a glare. “What a comedown that is! You won’t be able to have a meltdown in the shopping mall. I won’t be able to cut a caper and amuse the local police into releasing us without charges. It’s like being a commoner!”
Perhaps that was the wrong term to use as a punch line.
“Why did I come?” Jil wailed, releasing all her pent-up feelings in one mournful cry. I recognized the symptoms of an incipient tantrum. The cure was aversion therapy. I treated her to a braying version of my patented laugh, so loud it caused passersby to stop and gawk at me.
“Because you could not resist the chance to shop somewhere you have never shopped before, my dear Jil,” I said. “Hardly any of our cousins have ever made this transit. It is simply too long. They would have been much too bored to endure the frontier crossing. You have a new laurel upon which to rest. Just think how annoyed Erita will be not to be the farthest-traveled of our entire family.” I forebore to mention my own jaunt to the Castaway Cluster not long ago. But my little white lie had had the desired effect. Her shoulders relaxed, and her pace took on its quotidian air of smugness.
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