Chapter 4: Batotdacoth Delctur (Revisiting Delktu)
To sum up the Vorlash Manor in a word, it was a labyrinth.
Immediately after leaving the spaceport, the corridors seemed comparatively wide (though quite narrow for the main passages of a manor of this size), and soon enough, they were only barely spacious enough for a single personal transporter. There were periodic cavities along the walls, however — probably so that transporters could pass each other by.
That being said, there were no pedestrians walking the halls, let alone transporters. The place was as deserted as a ghost town.
A myriad of other corridors branched off from the corridor that the transporter (upon which Jint and the rest were riding) was whizzing down. Unbelievably, those passages were even narrower. Some of them were debatably not even really passages at all; it made much more sense to assume they were just gaps the manor’s designers forgot to close up.
The path the transporter took wasn’t straight, either. It often turned, and sometimes, not at right angles. Some of the bends in the road were at difficult-to-describe angles. That was to say nothing of all the slopes they’d be forced to go up and down, all the bridges suspended far above what seemed to be other passages, and all the open spaces they’d encounter. Those “open spaces” could not be called plazas or squares, since one got the distinct impression they existed for no other reason than because the architects were too lazy to fill them. One such space, however, was lined with the wreckage of whatever it was that had been placed there, so somebody somewhere must have thought the empty spaces an exercise in absurdity.
By all appearances, if that wreckage wasn’t once part of some barber’s chair or operating table, it could only have been a torture rack.
At this point, Jint felt giddy, like they might travel through a hole in the wall and end up passing through somebody’s personal garden. Sure enough, they really did travel along a lane in a flower bed. There weren’t any holes in the wall, but there were places where the ceiling got so low they had to duck.
As he soaked in his surroundings with curiosity, Jint noticed the signage in the official language of the UH, Ricparl, that had been left here and there.
“Question,” Jint asked Dereuzz. “Was this place used by the enemy?”
“Yes,” he nodded, still facing forward. “It seems it was seized and used as a barracks.”
“So did they remodel the place to look like this?”
“Having never visited the Manor before the war, I’m afraid I can’t tell you for sure,” she replied politely. “I think it was probably like this from the beginning, though. If by ‘like this,’ you mean this disorderly. The clan prefers layouts they can get lost in. Maybe they suffer from agoraphobia.”
“I once visited the capitol manor of the House of Elcash,” said Lafier. “While I was very young and don’t remember much, I do seem to recall it being maze-like.”
“There you go. A layout like this could never have been dreamt of by the likes of the Three Nations Alliance,” said Dereuzz with pride.
Upon hearing the tone she’d taken, his read on her age grew slightly shakier. “This place would be a paradise for cats,” he commented. Glad I didn’t bring Dyaho with us. Usually, as long as Jint wasn’t taking him to the bathtub, Dyaho would stay docile in his arms, but if he ever caught sight of this labyrinth, the temptation would be too great. It’d definitely be a tall order to find him again, the transmitter in his collar notwithstanding.
It wasn’t as though Jint refrained from bringing a cat in anticipation of the Manor’s inner layout. He’d just thought it might take away from the majesty and dignity. At the moment, Dyaho was in his carrier alongside some furniture. Arrangements had been made for Dyaho to get taken to the living room; he’d probably already been whisked away from the Baucbiruch as they spoke.
After advancing a while, the ceiling turned transparent. Countless stars dotted the ebony of space above. Jint thought he’d gotten used to them not twinkling, but they did come across as lacking. This must be the Manor’s top floor, the area farthest from the artificial gravity generator surface.
“Please use this room,” said Dereuzz, stopping the transporter in one of the top floor’s chambers.
The ceiling was around a thousand dagh high, and the room was sixteen square üésdagh. At the center stood a small but well-manicured garden, and next to it, a pond in the shape of a gourd. Judging by the white vapor, it was water for bathing. On the opposite side of the bath-pond was a strewn carpet, a set of couches, and a table. That area could be thought of as the lounge. In addition, there were individual pieces of furniture placed here and there, as well as two extravagant beds (complete with canopies) set a considerable distance apart.
“Pretty open room,” said Jint, casting a sideways glance to see what Lafier thought.
The Royal Princess was expressionless, seeming neither particularly fond of it nor particularly displeased.
Jint gave the room another scan. It occurred to him that it didn’t fit with the rest of the Manor. If the Emyoor Clan were actually a bunch of agoraphobes, wouldn’t this room be their nightmare? Jint wasn’t an agoraphobe, and even he was having a bit of trouble coping.
“I thought that in this state, it would be easier to tell where everything is,” said Dereuzz. “Most guests seem to prefer it this way.” She worked her wristgear, and walls rose up from the floor. Once the walls had stopped rising (at around the 500 dagh mark), a maze very much to the Emyoor Clan’s liking had been created. “Now then, allow me to take my leave,” she said, fixing her eyes on them.
“Thank you very much,” Jint bowed.
“What’re you doing?” she whispered, pulling on a sleeve of his long robe. “Step off already.”
Jint realized he
