He spoke to the security officer, ignoring them. Tal said, “Thank you, officer, I’ll take it from here. We appreciate your assistance.”
The stationer focused on Tal. The security officer shrugged and motioned his men to leave—there was plenty to do elsewhere. The stationer said, “Cyr?”
The very form of address was an inquiry about money. Tal’s lips curved briefly and he said, “We have transport of our own, thanks. Could you pass word to them we’d like a pickup? The Diamond will pay all port communications fees.”
“I see,” said the man, relaxing somewhat. “There should be no difficulty with that. There’s a lounge behind me, if you don’t want to stay out here.”
Keylinn, Spider, and the two knights waited no further, but passed into the next room. Tal said, “Do you have any word as to what’s gong on?”
“Troops from Baret One landed on Western Continent this morning—or rather, last night, our time. They claim they were invited by the local subgovemor.”
“The local subgovemor has no power to invite out-planet troops.”
The man shrugged. “Who said he did?” His gaze passed over the line of Baret Two natives in their rumpled clothes, all with the same desperate look on their faces. “The dirtsiders are premature,” he stated calmly. “A few rebels rose in Everun, but it was based mostly on rumor. State security is cleaning them up now. Whatever happens on Western Content, it’ll take a while to reach us here.”
“Have you announced that to them?” asked Tal.
“I’m not a newscaster.”
“Especially not when they’re lined up to sign their lives away to Baret Station Authority.”
The man blinked his light blue eyes. “Is that a criticism?”
“No. Just an observation. The lounge is through there, is it?” Tal took hold of his pack and followed the bedraggled remnants of the Diamond trade team.
They had dropped their packs and were sprawled on the thick carpet. At the far end of the room a glass wall showed the turmoil of workers around the grids outside. They almost had the lounge to themselves; a small group of aristocrats huddled in the comer by the glass wall, talking in low voices. One woman looked as though she were taking all her jewelry out on her body.
Tal said, “The rest of the team might be all right if they keep their heads. State security will probably have the rebels here rounded up in a few days, and our people can start trickling back to the port. It’ll be safer if they don’t try to go back to the Residence, though—you never know how popular outsiders are at a time like this. And it is part of the Duke’s grounds.”
“You mean this is temporary?” asked Lord Canniff. “It’ll all blow over in a few days?”
“No. The revolution has definitely begun. It’s just a matter of time until it grinds over Everun—a few days, weeks, a year. But it looks like there’ll be time to get die others off.”
Keylinn was stretched on the floor with her head on her pack. She said, “The pleasant gentleman from the front counter is coming up behind you, Tal. On your left.” Tal stood. “Is there a problem?”
The stationer shook his head and held out a piece of paper. “This is for you. A message. I forgot about it in all the excitement.”
“For me?” Tal did not take the paper.
“You were described very specifically.”
“What do you mean, you forgot? When were you given this?”
“Yesterday. Do you want the message, or not? I don’t care, I’ve already been paid.”
Tal’s group were looking at each other. Yesterday?
He took the paper, unfolded it, and read, in graceful script, what looked like a poem:
Belleraphon.
On the sixteenth of the Month of Changes,
At the fourth hour,
Alone.
I stood on the Street of Dreams,
At the mouth of Ocean Avenue.
The wind was cold.
He folded it again and sat down. The month of changes …
“Tal?” said Keylinn.
“What?” His voice was distracted.
“What’s going on? Is it something I should know?”
“No.” He was staring out through the glass wall. “Just a personal message.”
He realized after a few minutes that the stationer had gone and that his companions were looking at him oddly. The two knights shrugged; he was a demon, after all. But Keylinn and Spider seemed disturbed.
He said, “Excuse me,” and he left the lounge. Ten minutes later he returned and said, “Keylinn, I’d like to speak with you for a moment.”
She followed him to the far side of the room. He said, “I’m not going uphill with you.”
“Tal, the situation down here is serious, whatever that idiot out front thinks. People were shooting at us a short time ago, if you’ll recall.”
“Things should quiet down somewhat over the next day. I’ll stay here at the port until tomorrow.”
“It’s this Belleraphon, isn’t it?”
He said, irritated, “It’s none of your business what it is.”
“It’s exactly my business.”
“Enough. I’m not going to discuss it with you.” He paused and said, “Not now, anyway. I’m telling you this because I want you to pass the Crown along to Adrian. Tell him the safest place on the Diamond is the vault in my office. It’s got an Empire-style time lock tied into the computer links, he can set it for when he needs to remove the crown. Nobody will get it out before then. Show him how to use it if he needs to know.”
She glared at him silently.
He said, “I’m not unaware of the danger. I’m also not unaware that as soon as word of this filters through the brains of the Diamond and Opal councils, they’ll be all for pulling out of this system as soon as they can. Adrian will want to fold up his tents and leave—that’s why I can’t go back now—I might not be able to get another exit pass.” He paused, then asked, “Are you following me so far?”
“You’re doing the talking.”
“Look. I just bought this, illegally, from a security officer in the port. He’ll say
