intricacies of court Chapalii.
But Tess's dismay had evaporated, drawn off by her irritation at Ishii's assumption that she could not understand him, and by sheer human curiosity at the mention of that name, Mushai. 'You refer, I believe,' she said directly to Ishii in court Chapalii, thus indirectly insulting him, 'to the Tai-en Mushai. Was he not a duke who rebelled against one of your ancient emperors?''
Ishii blushed violet.
Violet and pink warred in the captain's face. Approval won. 'Lady Terese, it is, as you would call it-' A long pause. 'A fable. A legend. Do you not have legends of ages past when your lands ran with precious metals and all people of proper rank had sufficient wealth to maintain their position, and then a traitor who would not adhere to right conduct brought ruin to everyone by his selfish actions?''
Tess almost laughed. How often as a child had she and her classmates been told of that time a mere two centuries ago when a consortium of five solar systems bound by inexplicably close genetic ties and the enthusiasm of newly-discovered interstellar flight had invested their League Concordance as law? A brief golden age, they called it, before the Chapaliian Empire, in its relentless expansion, had absorbed the League within its imperial confines.
'Yes. Yes, we do,' she replied. She felt a fierce exultation in confronting these Chapaliians whom she now outranked, thinking of her brother's failed rebellion against the Empire, ten years before her birth, because he was not a traitor to his kind, to humankind, but a hero. Even now, when the Chapalii, for reasons only Chapalii understood, had ennobled him. Even now, made a duke-the only human granted any real status within their intricate hierarchy of power, given a solar system as his fief, endowed with fabulous wealth-Charles Soerensen simply bided his time, and the Chapalii seemed not to suspect.
'The honored duke will be pleased to see his heir on Odys,' said Hon Echido.
His colorless words shattered her thoughts, exposing her to her own bitter judgment: that she was afraid, that her life lay in chaos around her, and that even what little her brother asked of her she could not grant. She wanted only to retreat to the quiet, isolated haven of the palace in Jeds and be left alone, with no one expecting anything of her. Suddenly she felt oppressed by these Chapalii watching and measurin| her. She felt short and grossly heavy next to the gaunt delicacy that swathes of fabric and flowing robes could not disguise. Ishii's skin bore a blended shade that she could not recognize nor interpret. Yakii seemed torn between ad dressing a duke's heir and Ishii's demands.
'Lady Terese,' said Hon Echido, either sensitive to these currents or else simply pressing his advantage, as a canny merchant must, 'it would be a great compliment to my house if you would allow me to escort you personally to the Oshaki. With Hao Yakii's permission, of course.' He bowed to her and acknowledged the captain with that arrangement of hands known as Merchant's Favor.
With mutual consent, the parting went swiftly. Tess left Yakii and Ishii to their debate, and walked to the shuttle with Hon Echido in attendance, the steward carrying her valise five paces behind. There would be time enough to arrange with Hao Yakii that she was going to Rhui, not to Odys. Both planets, being neighbors in the Dao Cee system were on the Oshaki's scheduled run.
Hon Echido proved a pleasant and undemanding companion. His concerns were material, his conversation pragmatic, and he seemed determined to treat her as he would any duke's heir, despite the fact that she was both human and female.
'May we be given to understand, Lady Terese,' he asked as the shuttle lifted away from Earth and out toward the Oshaki's orbit, 'that the more frequent cargo runs to Rhui indicate that the duke will soon be opening that planet up to exploitation as he has the planet Odys?'
'No. Its designation as a natural preserve under the Interdiction Code protects it for at least a century. My brother desires to preserve the native cultures for as long as possible.'
'Lady Terese, certainly the natives are quite primitive. Not equal to the worth to our societies of Rhui's magnificent natural resources.'
'Ah, Hon Echido, but is it not here that our valuations of worth differ? While to you they are merely a less important part of Rhui's other natural resources, to us they are cousins.'
Echido stroked his mauve robes. 'More than cousins, surely. Are you not, in virtually every particular, identical species?'
If it was meant to be an insult, it was smooth. Tess could not refrain from smiling, but the expression was completely lost on the Chapalii. 'Yes, we are both Homo sapiens. That is why you Chapalii cannot be allowed on the planet. However primitive the Rhuian natives might be, some of them are intelligent enough to question those characteristics by which the Chapalii differ from humans.'
'Are they truly so intelligent?' he asked without a trace of irony. 'How can you know, Lady Terese?'
'Because I lived on Rhui for three years, in a city called Jeds. That was about ten years ago, when I was a child. My brother allows limited contact between humans in his employ and the natives, for research purposes.'
Echido settled his hands into that arrangement known as Merchant's Accord. 'Certainly the duke is wise to ascertain the extent and disposition of Rhui's resources before exploiting them. It is a rich planet. My family can only hope that we will be allowed the privilege of bidding on any expedition once the interdict is lifted from the planet.''
'I assure you, Hon Echido, that should it come to that, I will put in a good word for you with my brother.'
He was delighted. It struck Tess that the mauve of his robes and the reddish tint of satisfaction that flushed his skin did not remotely match. God, but she was tired.
Stewards met them at the Oshakvs lock and vied for the honor of showing her to a suite of rooms suitable for a passenger of her eminence. The original steward kept his grip on her valise. It was a relief to be left alone in the suite. The solitude was palpable. It was also hot.
She developed a routine quickly as the Oshaki left Earth orbit and began its run to Dao Cee and thence to the home worlds. She slept and washed, and ate her meals alone in her rooms. She wanted to wallow in depression. All the anger and frustration and the caustic wound of Jacques's rejection of her had room to swell up and fill her until she mostly just lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She could not manage tears: she wanted them too badly.
But when, one half day out from Rhui, yet another begging invitation from Hao Yakii that she dine at his table came in, she felt guilty. She owed it to Charles. He would expect her to dine, to converse, to glean any slightest bit of information that might be valuable to the cause. And she needed to tell Hao Yakii that she was going to Rhui, not to Odys.
The ship was large, and a steward appeared to escort her to the captain's dining hall. The dining hall itself was as big as her flat in Prague. Hao Yakii rose at her entrance. Five other Chapalii rose, bowing. She acknowledged, in formal Chapalii, the two she recognized: Cha Ishii Hokokul and Hon Echido Keinaba. The others were introduced: minor lords and merchants. Somehow, Echido managed to sit beside her, and his presence acted as a buffer because he was so good at keeping the conversation on a technical, commonplace level. To her relief, the dinner went smoothly.
She rose finally. Echido begged leave to escort her to her suite. At the door, she paused: She had not told Hao Yakii about her true destination. It was so hard, in front of these strangers. She hesitated, struggling with herself. She could simply send him a message through the comm, but God, she was damned if she'd be that cowardly.
Behind her, in court Chapalii, one of the merchants said to the captain: 'Will the Tai-endi be confined to her suite until you leave Rhui orbit?'
The captain flushed green, glancing toward the door. Cha Ishii flushed blue, though he did not look toward her, and a moment later, the merchant flushed violet, mortified.
'Hon Echido,' said Tess in clear, formal Chapalii, 'you did not tell me if Keinaba has already opened negotiations with the Tai-en?' A quick glance back as they left showed her that the captain's flush had faded to white.
Echido was tinged blue along the jawline, a faint line of distress. 'We have not, Lady Terese. Unforeseen events have brought us to Dao Cee.' Then, smoothly, he took the subject off on another tangent.
Alone in her suite, Tess sat down on her bed and pondered. Why should the captain confine her to quarters? He could not, in any case. Becoming fluent in the language had not given her, or any human, much insight into the
