turned in on itself, crossed with the starker classical lines of the Parthenon and made feminine by a profusion of bright frescos of elegant ladies in belled skirts and fitted jackets surrounded by flowers, and by the tiers of columns surrounding the central dome. The design was a clear reminder of the rebel duke, the Tai-en Mushai, and yet it was also uniquely itself. It was stunning.
Charles rose and paced once around the edifice and sat back down again.
'What site have you procured?' he asked.
Naroshi inclined his head. 'We have received a dispensation from the emperor's Chamberlain of the Avenue of the Red Blossom to build the mausoleum along the Field of Empty Hands.'
David had not a clue what or where the Field of Empty Hands was, and he wondered if Charles did, either, but Charles certainly did not show any uncertainty in his reply.
'That would be well, Tai-en. I am honored by your interest, and by your sister's skill.'
'We all mourn, when a member of one of the great families dies, whether by the cessation of breath or the act of extinction, of leaving, that forever separates them from their kin.'
Charles bowed his head, perhaps the better to shadow his expression. It was true that, by Chapalii law, now that Charles had acknowledged Jess's marriage to Bakhtiian, Tess did indeed lose her position as Charles's heir. So ran the Chapalii inheritance laws, and laws of marriage: a female upon marriage takes her husband's status exclusively. Presumably Naroshi's own sister was unmarried, else she would not still remain in his house. Naroshi might believe Tess was dead-Bakhtiian had told his agent that. But Cara had also told David that Tess's original marriage had taken place at Morava; did Naroshi know about that? Or was his comment not about Tess at all but simply a reference to the emperor, who severed all ties of kinship, all ties with his past, on the day he stepped up to the imperial throne? There were a hundred other possibilities, all of them too damned convoluted for David's taste.
'Tai-en,' said Charles into the silence. 'I have a proposition for you.'
Naroshi regarded him steadily.
'Just as you have brought this to me-' He gestured toward the edifice, now curling into mist at the edges as it faded away. '-I propose to bring a human art to you. We humans create an art form that is transitory, played out each night once in a way that can never be duplicated, and yet, played out the next night in the same way that is, still, different from what it was before. It is called theater. I would bring this theater into Imperial space, if you would be willing to sponsor its travel.'
'Theater,' said Naroshi. The human word sounded strange and ominous on his lips. 'I know what this art is.' He inclined his head. 'I would be pleased to sponsor a-ah, I know the word. The tour.'
Charles inclined his head in reply. David could not imagine how Charles could keep his face so straight as he recruited a Chapalii duke, all unknowing, to start the wheel spinning, to start the first corruption, the first step, the first wedge into the edifice of diamond and steel that was the Empire. To introduce the first tendrils of the saboteur network into the heart of Chapalii space.
Or did Naroshi know? Did he suspect? Knowing that his own agents had been in Charles's territory-knowing that Charles knew-did Naroshi then accept Charles's agents into his? Like any great dance, whirling along in brilliant colors across a ballroom floor, the movement and countermovement that flowed naturally from the interaction of the dancers seemed merely bewildering to an inexperienced bystander. On neither duke could David read the slightest expression or color.
'I will send the Bharentous Repertory Company to your palace, Tai-en,' said Charles.
'I will receive it,' said Naroshi.
He rose. Charles rose. The edifice dissolved into steam and vanished into air between them, where they stood at either end of their respective sofas. They made polite farewells. Naroshi left, with his steward trailing behind. David and Suzanne stared at each other. Charles sat down and drained his whiskey in one shot.
'Well,' said Suzanne. 'I wasn't expecting that. Getting him to sponsor the tour.' She walked over and sat down where Naroshi had just been sitting.
'Neither was I,' admitted Charles. 'It just came to me.' He grinned. 'Did you see that design? It practically shouted my link to Rhui and to the Mushai and from there, I suppose, to all rebels.'
'Or Tess's link,' said Suzanne, 'since Naroshi must know that she was last seen alive there.'
'How can you risk it?' David demanded. He thought of Diana as he said it. Of Diana and her husband, who must surely end up following her wherever she went. 'Putting the actors into Naroshi's hands?'
' Til deliver all,' ' said Charles. He leaned back into the cushions. 'How can I not risk it?'
David sighed and went to lean on the lectern, but he watched the sun sink down over the horizon. The polished black surface of the table stared blankly at him.
'Earth,' said Charles, and a flat map of Earth and her continents flowered into being on the table. He went on, through the planets bound together by the League covenant, by their human heritage, by the many space stations and mining colonies and frozen outposts Unking them along the shipping lanes. 'Ophiuchi-Sei. Sirin Five. Tau Ceti Tierce. Eridanaia. Hydra. Cassie. The unpronounceable one. Three Rings.' He did not say Odys. Odys was not a human planet, only the seat of his ducal authority.
Maggie strode in, poured herself a drink at the bureau, and walked across the room to sprawl out on the sofa next to Charles. 'I got rid of Marco,' she said. 'What a relief. He needs a vacation. But you know-' She sipped from her glass and set it down on the end table. 'I almost asked him to greet Ursula from me. It's still hard to believe that she's dead. What a terrible way to die.'
'She wasn't the first. She won't be the last,' said Charles.
Maggie had evidently come through the greenhouse, because David could smell the perfume of newly-mown grass on her. Suzanne sighed. Under David's elbows, the screen shifted again, to show the ongoing design and work index for Concord, the great space station that housed die League offices and the League Parliament. The Chapalii Protocol Office allowed the work to continue, as long as it did not interfere with whatever quotas and taxes their human subjects must pay to the emperor. David ran a finger along a hatched grid. Nadine would have loved this, this table, with its cornucopia of maps stored within, each one available at the touch of a finger or with a single spoken word, each one a discovery, a new journey, a fresh path to explore.
'Where did you get that sword?' Maggie asked. 'That saber? That's a jaran saber.'
'Bakhtiian sent it to me,' said Charles, 'together with the armor and a beautifully embroidered red shirt.'
David looked out at the armor. He hadn't noticed the shirt before, but it was there, under the cuirass, sleeves flowing out in a pattern of red interlaced with a golden road and silver eagles. And David had to smile. As if, by giving him the shirt, Bakhtiian had made Charles a member of his army.
Charles caught David's eye and smiled. Then he said, 'Rhui,' and the surface of the table flowed again, becoming Rhui.
Maggie got up and went over to stare more closely at the saber. She made a comment, more of a grunt, really, that meant nothing except perhaps, 'Oh, how interesting.' The only color in the room came from her teal shirt, and from the Rhuian artifacts arranged artfully along the wall. The display itself seemed to flow right out onto the balcony, encompassing the suit of armor and moving beyond it to the horizon. As the sun set over the quiet waters, the evening star woke and burned in the sky, so that it, too, seemed part of the room. The evening star, which was Rhui.
'I miss him,' said Charles. 'It's strange, knowing I'll probably never see him again.'
David wiped the table clear with a sweep of his arm and went and sat down next to Suzanne. After a moment, Maggie retreated to her place. The four of them sat there in companionable silence. Night bled down over them. The bureau light snapped on, illuminating the wall, spraying a fan of soft white light up onto the saber and the robe.
' 'I long to hear the story of your life,' ' said Suzanne, ' 'which must lake the ear strangely.' That's what comes before that line.'
'What line?' demanded Maggie.
Rhui blazed in the sky, and around her, the other stars appeared, thousands upon thousands of them like the fires of the jaran army, like the torch-burdened walls of Karkand, like lights burning in the forest of towers that surrounded the emperor's palace on Chapal.
' Til deliver all.' ' said Charles, ' 'And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales/And sail so expeditious that shall catch Your royal fleet far off.' '
'Oh,' said Maggie. 'That line.'
