On Assignment to the Planet of the Exalted

by Helena Puumala

  Maryse smiled.

  “You’ve got it,” she said. “I knew you would.

  “I’m thinking, a team of maybe four individuals,” she added. “Three besides yourself. No native Lamanians.”

  “I’d volunteer in a second,” said Ramha. “But I understand why you don’t want Lamanians. Vultairians would be suspicious of me, if I went, which would make it tough to gather evidence.”

  “I want to go,” Lank said, eyes shining. “I can be discreet with the best of them.”

  “Count me in, too, please,” added Rakil. “I can provide some muscle, and the Exalted Citizens seem to assume that Borhquans are all hair and no brains. It might be a useful misconception.”

  “Kati is going to be leading this expedition. If she accepts you, that’s good enough for me,” said Maryse.

  Before Kati had a chance to comment on this, Joaley spoke up:

  “Ramha has disqualified himself from going, but I do feel that the City Peace Officers should be represented on this team, and therefore I’m going to ask—plead, beg, whatever it takes—to be the final member of your team, Kati. I’ll pretend to be whatever you think I should be, and I’m awfully handy with a stunner.”

  Kati burst out laughing.

  “Sounds like the team is taking form, without me so much as having to lift a finger,” she said.

  “But each of you will need to understand before you make a final commitment—and there will be a few days before you have to do that,” added Maryse, “that you’ll have to do some organizing before you leave. As the Unofficial Team you’ll have to get to Vultaire as something other than the Team, so we’ll have to work that out. All who want to go will have to bone up on what is known about the planet; you’ll want to blend into the background, if that’s at all possible.”

  Kati nodded at this, and queried the Granda about the time. Then she said:

  “It’s getting late and I, at least, have a full day ahead tomorrow. Team members, do what you can to look into the Vultairian situation tomorrow, and perhaps we can meet again tomorrow night, if Maryse is available. Do try to figure out how we can move freely among the Vultairians.”

  “I’ll be available,” said Maryse. “I’ll get in touch with each of you and we’ll meet somewhere neutral tomorrow evening. This will take a few days to arrange, and we’ll have to work out as much as we can, beforehand.”

  She looked pleased.

  “The fact that it’ll be six months before Mikal will make it to Vultaire should satisfy the Social Services requirements, I should think,” she added. “Don’t you think so, Marga?”

  “As far as I’m concerned, yes, of course,” Marga replied. “And I think that it’ll be good for Kati’s emotional and mental health to be working. But I’ll let you argue it out with Londes r’pa Fortes and Caryn r’pa Voris at the Social Services Office at Transient Housing. I already had a run-in with them, and I doubt that they’re very happy with me.”

  “Possibly they’ll be glad to see the last of me,” said Kati lightly, as she stood up. “I seem to make waves wherever I go.”

  “Come to think of it, Team Leader Kati, you and I are due at Orientation tomorrow morning,” Rakil said, pushing back his seat. “And believe me, Mira will make sure that we’re up and ready to go.”

  “One reason why I’m anxious to be off to my bed,” Kati laughed. “And Lank’s taking me to the City Cash Market in the afternoon.”

  “Yeah,” said Lank. “I’m scheduled to do a couple of hours of busking there tomorrow.” He mimed playing a wind instrument as he spoke.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “This, ladies and gentlemen, is an ident-scanner,” Londes was saying, demonstrating a piece of equipment with which Kati was already perfectly familiar. “Every establishment that provides goods and/or services has one. You place your left thumb on it, like this—” he demonstrated, “—and it reads the information it wants, through your node. Your node tells it what Service Level you’re at, whether you’re at Subsistence, Labour or Professional. The establishment’s computer then knows the extent of the provisions you are allowed.”

  Some of the people in the Orientation group were recent arrivals to Lamania, and they were the ones crowding around Londes, asking questions. Kati and Rakil were at the back, behind Mira who was trying to keep a little space around her pregnant body.

  “Can you entertain?” Kati asked Rakil in a low voice, ignoring the demonstration at the front.

  “Entertain?” Rakil turned to stare at her.

  “You know, sing, dance, play an instrument, recite poetry, anything like that?” Kati persisted.

  Rakil thought for a moment.

  “I guess I could recite some of the Borhquan Epic Verse Sagas,” he finally said. “We had to memorize them in school. Really old stuff about how the Mothers and the Grandmothers took over running the Tree Families because the men had botched the job. Spent too much time fighting each other with swords and lances and stuff. Or—”

  “Or?” Kati encouraged him.

  “Or I could juggle. Balls, fruit, even eggs; I was pretty good at it in school. Got to be the centre of attention and to drive the teachers crazy. What’s on your mind, anyway?”

  “Tell you later.”

  Mira had reached back to grab Kati’s hand in a warning. Londes had finished with the ident-scanner and was looking around with a frown on his face. Kati and Rakil turned to pay attention to his next lesson, and Kati squeezed Mira’s fingers to thank her.

  “Lank’s busking is what gave me the idea,” Kati told Rakil on Gallyher’s Terrace where the two of them escaped after the Orientation Session.

  “There are a lot of ‘ifs’ to it yet, so classify this plan under ‘tentative’,” she said. “But I’m thinking that if we can get ourselves stranded on Vultaire, we could band together to feed ourselves by entertaining people. Entertainers are often like servants, almost invisible when not on stage, yet they can gain entry to places that other people can’t. With luck, if we’re halfway good, we’ll get invitations to dos at important residences, and get to see things and goings-on that we’d never see while walking down a street.”

  “Hm. I suppose I could try to find out what I can about the entertainment scene on Vultaire, this afternoon,” Rakil said thoughtfully. “Like, do they have buskers, or is the Oligarchy so afraid of criticism that they lock up anyone who tries to make a living that way.”

  “Could you do that?”

  “Sure. Why not? I should be able to access the Star Federation information network as easily as anyone.”

  *****

  The City Cash Market was a vast expanse of pavement protected from the elements by a force field which, to Kati, was a technological marvel. Apparently, it could collect UV rays and sunlight, and turn them into electricity for the Market, and also slough off precipitation into gutters which directed the water to nearby gardens. The pavement was covered with stalls, entertainment stages, walkways, and seating areas for exhausted shoppers. There were occasional larger establishments, often at the junctions of the curving passageways—usually these were sit-down restaurants luring tired walkers to eat in more comfort than the small stalls could offer.

  Lank talked to Kati about the Market during the short gondola ride from the Transient Quarters.

  “It’s a great place,” he said enthusiastically, “and about the only good place for amateur buskers in the whole City. That’s because of the token system. The Cash Machines will convert your credit into tokens at request, and whatever you don’t spend can be returned to your credit balance. Which means that buskers can actually profit by the tokens that the patrons toss into their bowls, and the listeners at the Market do tend to be generous. If your group isn’t large, a couple of hours of playing can net as much credit as a day’s toil at the Transient Housing for those of us on Subsistence.”

  Kati allowed herself a quick grin at this; she did not think of the work at Transient Housing as toil, although it, no doubt, could get tedi
ous after a while. But Lank obviously preferred making music to the alternatives, and she was not about to fault him for that.

  “It’s quite the warren,” the youth continued, “so warn your node to be ready for some mapping. Although, there are a lot of City Peace Officers around, should you run into problems. That’s how I met Joaley. I got totally disoriented the first time I came to the Market, partly because I didn’t, as yet, know how to use my node to advantage. She saw that I was in trouble—that’s one of their functions, to look out for confused strangers and newcomers—and stopped to offer help. I accepted, and she had me sorted out in no time, explained how to get my node to keep a running map, as well as how to hook into the general one that’s available to everyone through his or her node. We’ve been friends ever since, and as a Wilder who has been on Lamania for some time now, she has been a very good contact to have.”

  The crush of the crowds assaulted Kati the moment the duo passed into the Market grounds. “Wow!” she exclaimed, stopping just short of joining the nearest stream of pedestrians, while other incomers streamed by her to become a part of the throng.

  Lank grabbed hold of her arm, and pulled her with him. “Come on,” he urged. “It’s perfectly safe. You’ll get used to the crowds in no time; just tell your old Monk to go to work to keep you mapped and oriented. We’ll have to head for my stage, right away. My group should be there when we get there; it’s almost time for our slot.”

  The performing times were not easy to get, and therefore were precious, Lank had explained. His group, The Wailing Wilders they called themselves, had had to wait for a couple of weeks for this opportunity to take over one of the busking stages.

  Kati yielded to his pressure even as The Monk chided her for her hesitation.

  “It’s only people,” the Granda subvocalized. “I can keep track of things better than most—I’ve already accessed the public map and know where Stage 17, Lank and his cohorts’ stage, is. He’s going there via a roundabout route—but I believe that he knows better than I do how to avoid the worst bottlenecks. But give me a bit of time....”

  Kati caught glimpses of colourful stalls filled with exotic merchandise, and of others which had been turned into food and beverage bars with the addition of a few stools at the counters. People appearing to hail from all corners of this, to Kati, new, galaxy, were buying and selling all manner of goods. In contrast to the staid commercial establishments in the rest of the city, where customers offered their left thumbs to be read, and then quietly chose what they wanted, this Market appeared to be a hive of hawking and haggling. The merchants were not shy about touting the virtues of their wares, and it sounded like a lot of the buyers were into the game, pointing out barely visible flaws in order to demand price cuts.

  Lank drew Kati along at a good pace, leaving her first impressions half-finished for the time being.

  “I want to introduce you to my band mates,” he said as they hurried along. “I happened to mention that Kati of Terra was staying in my Transient Housing Unit, and now all of them want to meet you. It’s annoying, but since I’m abruptly bailing out on them.... I thought that I ought to humour them in this.”

  Kati was slightly irked, but had to concede that Lank had a point. His partners would have to find a replacement for him, if they intended to continue with the Wailing Wilders. Moreover, since the Unofficial Investigative Team was not to be spoken of on the walkways of the City Cash Market, Lank would not be able to explain his sudden desertion. If a few minutes of face-time with the reluctant heroine of the VidFeeds would help to pacify them, the heroine ought to grin and bear it. It was for a good cause.

  They reached Stage 17 just as the previous performers had begun to vacate it. Lank found his band mates next to it, waiting to get on, and readying their instruments. Kati was introduced to Cary, Taryn and Jod, and endured the gawking while making a few assessments of her own. Taryn and Jod, as Lank had mentioned earlier, were a courting couple, still so new to coupledom that mostly they ignored the people around them, a circumstance which did not, however, extend to a minor celebrity, such as Kati seemed to be. But their curiosity was muted—they seemed anxious to get on with the show, and, perhaps, to whatever pursuits they had planned for after it. Cary aroused Kati’s curiosity; he was tall and thin, with a more than passing physical resemblance to the Morhinghy couple. He seemed extremely shy and retiring, so definitely not a Vultairian Exalted. His membership in The Wailing Wilders suggested an origin on some other, non-Federation Fringe planet, instead.

  “But if he’s an Ordinary Citizen from Vultaire, he’d want to keep that information to himself,” The Monk subvocalized. “It would be healthier for him, this close to the Federation Space Station and its Vultairian delegation of the Exalted.”

  Kati had to let go this cryptic comment for the moment. Lank was giving her final instructions in the use of the Cash Machines, and in finding her way around the Market. She thanked him as he and his partners climbed onto the stage, and then found a seat at the end of a row in the back, in order to listen to a couple of the Wailing Wilders’ songs. After that she intended to go and do the shopping that she had in mind.

  She slipped away during the third song, having decided that the group could sing and play quite nicely, for a quartet newly-formed. With her hearing node-enhanced, she had had no trouble picking out Lank’s flute, and listening to it, she had decided that the notion of busking on Vultaire definitely had possibilities.

  As she left, she was so intent on her thoughts and on getting away unobtrusively that she nearly bumped into a tall, gaudily-dressed couple who were fidgeting at the edge of the audience area. They were not paying attention to their surroundings, either; they were gaping at “The Wailing Wilders” sign which the band had set up on the front of the stage.

  “The Wailing Wilders?” the female half of the two-some asked, her nose crinkling. “What kind of a name is that?”

  “A silly one, obviously,” her companion responded.

  They turned to examine the band members with their enhanced sight. Kati stepped back a little to look at them in her turn. Very tall, thin, pale-skinned and light-haired, dressed in brightly-coloured tunics and capes, their clothes were embossed with strikingly loud glyphs that meant nothing to her. Except for the fact that the Morhinghys had been similarly dressed; only the colours and the glyphs had been different.

  “The tall one at the keyboard looks like a Vultairian, an Ordinary Citizen,” the man then said, sounding huffy. “If so, he has no business being here. What do you think, Maka?”

  Maka shrugged.

  “I have no idea, Aris,” she replied petulantly. “And I don’t much care. He’s tall, but there are a lot of tall people in the galaxy, and most of them end up at the City Cash Market on Lamania sooner or later.”

  “But I care, Maka. If he’s a Vultairian Ordinary Citizen he should be home on Vultaire, keeping the Vultairian economy afloat with his puny contributions, not making music in The Second City.”

  “The Vultairian nobility treat their underlings at home ill,” The Monk growled inside Kati’s head. “You might want to redirect this couple’s attention from Cary, especially if he actually is an Ordinary Citizen who found it necessary to make his way off that planet, and gain asylum here.”

  The Granda’s unexpected concern spurred Kati into action.

  “It so happens,” she said brightly to the two, “that I’ve met the band members. They call themselves The Wailing Wilders because all four of them are Wilders who met one another here, in The Second City, after an arduous trip from their home worlds. As one of them said: ‘Each of us wailed all the way to Lamania from whatever planet we started from’. It’s a comment on the conditions to be found along the Space Trade Lanes, I gather. Rather clever, don’t you think?”

  “Clever? Not in the least,” Aris answered flatly. “Silly, I’d say. But then, you Wilders are given to idiocy.”

  “But, aren’t you that Kati of Terra creature from the VidF
eeds?” Maka asked, peering at Kati. “The one everybody’s been calling a heroine, or something?”

  “Adventuring on Wilder planets, and such rot,” Aris commented, looking down his nose at Kati. “Made a real splash on the VidFeeds, haven’t you?”

  Kati gritted her teeth, refusing to let a snarl to escape.

  “I wouldn’t mind being on the VidFeeds,” Maka said, oblivious to Kati’s reaction. “It would make life more interesting. You’d have to vie for my attention with scads of other men, Aris! What fun!”

  “Nonsense, Maka,” Aris snapped, while Maka smirked. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves by strutting on VidFeeds!”

  He grabbed Maka’s hand and began to pull her away.

  “We’re here to conduct business, not to jaw with fools!”

  Kati smirked at their retreating backs. Cary’s identity was safe, for the time being.

  *****

  Kati felt like she had been walking for kilometres, and had looked at dozens of music stores to which the Granda had directed her, before she found what she was looking for. It was a small shop, tucked away at the end of a side aisle, away from the main walkway. She had detoured there, without much hope, precisely because the area looked quiet; fighting the crowds had quickly lost any possible charm. She had debated about stopping for a cup of herb tea at one of the stalls serving beverages, but when the side alley had caught her eye she had decided to try it. After all, she had not stopped to get tokens yet, and the Granda did insist that there was a music store along this road less travelled!

  She reminded herself that it had been the notion of looking for a stringed instrument that was close enough a relative of a guitar that she could learn to play it, at least rudimentarily, that had brought her to the City Cash Market in the first place. She had browsed in a couple of the music stores in the city during her earlier explorations, but had seen nothing suitable. Oh, there had been plenty of instruments, stringed and otherwise. But, looking at them she had guessed that learning to play any of them would require more than a few lessons, even with a node to help her. She had mentioned, during one of their conversations, to Lank that she had played “something called a guitar” on her home world, and would not mind playing a stringed instrument again, but that everything that she had seen so far had seemed too complicated for an amateur.