House of Reeds

Perhaps, she allowed to herself, waiting for a gap to open in the stream of garishly dressed civilians passing by, we were out in the dark for too long. Two years of treading the deck without a friendly shore in sight, dealing with marauders, slavers, angry miners, Megair corsairs, the Khaid…No wonder the Chu-sa found the Admiral's dinner party so disturbing.

Now she was a little concerned, wondering if Hadeishi's report had been overly colored by this same tricky sense of paranoia. Susan considered calling the ship on her comm and having Smith run a racial-source analysis on the battle group personnel lists, and then remembered the communications officer was groundside, seeing about shore-leave housing for the crew.

A strikingly alien-looking creature – something like a jewel-crusted mantis – passed into the house and Kosho stepped onto the tiled walkway before realizing everyone had fallen silent for a reason. The kind of supernal calm which crept upon her in the midst of battle threatened, and she turned to see what was going on.

'Stand aside, ma'am.' A very alert Eagle Knight with a craggy face was there, motioning for her to step back. Kosho did so, returning the man's polite nod, and one slick black eyebrow rose in alarm at the scene unfolding behind him.

A slim young man advanced grandly down the walkway, head held high, chest rippling with platinum scales, long dark hair threaded with gold, turquoise silk pantaloons billowing around his ankles, and a maroon cape fringed with clattering jade slung carelessly over one shoulder. Another Eagle Knight clad in the darkest possible civilian clothing was moving just behind his shoulder, wary eyes flickering across the faces of the goggling onlookers.

Behind the young man, a huge crowd of giggling, barely clothed courtesans, jugglers, magicians and smug- looking junior officers spilled from the walkway into the gardens. Kosho blinked, took two steps back and stiffened to attention: the reflexive action of an officer confronted with the queasy horror of higher command authority outside her usual chain of command. Worse, the man was an Army officer.

Unmistakably, the Imperial Prince Tezozуmoc had arrived.

The prince's party swept past Kosho with a blare of laughter, leaving a cloud of alcohol fumes, stimulant smoke and eye-smarting perfume in their wake. Two junior Army officers bumped into her, then saluted cheerily. The boys were holding up a civilian youth of comparable age, though he was wearing only a blue serape, one sandal and a liberal amount of octli liquor. A great deal of shouting followed as everyone tried to crowd into the vestibule.

Servants converged from all directions and Kosho caught a glimpse of a tall, assured-looking woman with black hair slashed with white. She appeared from nowhere and took the prince's hands in greeting. Then the jugglers were in the way, tossing lighted brands through the lines of lights hanging from the ceiling. A cloud of smoke wicked up into the red dome.

'Enough entertainment for me, I think.' Susan turned away. Many of the people in the garden flocked to gawk at the prince and she strode quickly towards the vine-covered gate, relieved the prince had neither seen nor recognized her.

That might be embarrassing, she thought, amused. Susan began to grin at the thought, her humor improving. Assuming he remembers being six years old anymore.

'Sho-sa Kosho?' A vaguely familiar voice called out. Susan looked up and almost laughed aloud. The monkeys of circumstance are playing tricks tonight.

A familiar-looking blonde woman of medium height and pleasantly even features was in the archway, bowing and smiling in greeting. A balding servant stood behind her, making a belated, but proper bow.

'Doctor Anderssen,' Susan replied, matching the bow. 'A pleasant surprise.'

'The pleasure is ours, Sho-sa. The Chu-sa and your crew are well?'

'They are.' Susan relaxed a little. Doctor Anderssen had been their guest on the Cornuelle during the investigation of certain mysterious events on the planet Ephesus Three. Despite some trying times, the xenoarchaeologist had proved herself circumspect and polite. Kosho approved of her, which was not always the case when civilians were concerned. In the intervening two years, the xenoarchaeologist seemed to have lost a little weight and spent far too much time outside in the wind and sun. She seemed a little uncomfortable in a formal dress. Kosho understood how she felt. 'You've just missed meeting Prince Tezozуmoc of the Imperial House and all his friends.'

'We saw him.' Anderssen bowed again, but Susan could see she was hiding a grin. 'His arrival delayed ours. We couldn't even cross the street.'

Kosho looked out, seeing the traffic had grown much, much worse. A large number of expensive-looking groundcars of Imperial manufacture filled the avenue in front of the mansion. Jehanan drivers were hissing curses at one another and honking their horns. Legation security was trying to clear the traffic, but with little effect.

'There is still time,' Susan said, keeping her voice low, 'to return to your place of residence and spend a productive evening watching holovee or playing cards.'

Anderssen choked back a snort of laughter and covered her mouth. 'Thank you for the astute advice, Sho-sa, but I received an invitation from the lady of the house and it would be impolite to disappoint her. And…' Gretchen sighed, revealing a flash of irritation. '…there is someone I am trying to find. I hope he will be here.'

'I see.' Susan began to feel uneasy again. The blare of the car horns and shouting was beginning to fray her concentration. She tapped her cheek, waking up the comm-thread. 'Good luck, Anderssen- tzin. I must warn you, however, the mansion is large – and very crowded. Good evening.'

'Good evening,' Anderssen called after her, obviously puzzled. 'Best wishes to…'

The rest of the sentence was drowned out by the raspy shouts of Jehanan street vendors. Kosho left the crumbling sidewalk and slid sideways between two battered thirty-year-old Scandia panel trucks. The comm-thread woke to life with a tingle under her jaw.

'Felix, this is Kosho. Where are you?'

Twenty meters ahead, Sho-sa. An alley on your left, behind the cart selling sweetened ices.

Susan pushed against the crowd of natives flowing the other way, making slow going. The Jehanan came in different shapes and sizes, but they all took up a lot of sidewalk. Eventually she passed the cart – bright yellow, festooned with colorful paper banners and enameled masks – and turned into a shadowy opening.

Felix appeared out of the murk, a long field coat doing a poor job of covering her muzzle-down Macana assault rifle. Combat armor bulked beneath a civilian-style mantle. 'This way, kyo.'

'Put that away,' Kosho hissed, shaking off her funk. The brisk walk was clearing her head. 'Legation security will void themselves to see you waving a cannon around – not to mention the Imperial bodyguards!'

The sight of her security detail shouldn't have changed her mood, but it did. By the time Susan ducked into the back seat and Felix slammed the door closed she was feeling almost normal.

Without instructions, the Marine in the front seat fired up the engine, and immediately they were accelerating down the alley, driving lights illuminating refuse bins and indefinable structures protruding from the buildings looming on either side. Kosho leaned back wearily against the plush leather seats. 'Heicho, status of security arrangements groundside?'

'Good, kyo.' Felix turned, peering back over the seat. 'Smith- tzin's lined up four or five hotels. We scouted out some bars selling liquor humans can drink. Seems the slicks like their methanol straight, with local alkaloids for flavor. Pure poison for us, of course.'

'Slicks?' Susan stared out the window. Buildings dashed past, most of them wooden, with a few crumbling brick edifices thrown in. She'd seen skyscrapers from the window of the shuttle, but out here in the suburbs everything was low and squat and packed closely together.

'The Jehanan, kyo. Have you touched one? Their skin is smooth…almost like glass.'

'Fine.' Kosho craned her neck over a little, staring up at the sky. The clouds were low and glowing with the light of the city. 'What kind of extraction points do you have on tap? Rooftops? Public parks? Streets?'

'Rooftops are poor, kyo. Every single one hosts a laundry, a hostel or some kind of