"You will be fairly rewarded for your services tonight. And more, you will be remembered." The attendant pulled his hand away, and all of the attendants around Chainer stepped back to let him rise. "Go back to your quarters and wait. I would speak with Master Skellum about your future. He will tell you what we decide. But rest easy on the cushion of a job well done, Chainer. I see your future as one of wealth and power." The First crossed his arms behind his back, signifying that the interview was over.
A human guard tapped Chainer on the shoulder and gestured with his pike.
"The First is wise," Chainer said. "Long live the Cabal," the First replied.
Chainer was led out, but he saw Skellum smiling. He was led all the way out of the building, past the sharp-nailed guard and out onto the street.
When his escorts turned back, Chainer walked on in a kind of daze. He touched his dagger, reassured himself that his satchel was finally empty, and broke off a three-foot length of chain with a whispered word and a shimmer of air. He began spinning the truncated chain around his fingers, one of the most basic dexterity exercises he knew.
He felt drained, but his head was still buzzing. He couldn't feel his legs, yet knew he could walk for miles. He sauntered on, spinning the chain as he strolled, faster and faster. He smoothly transferred it from hand to hand as he walked, and he realized that he was happier than he'd ever been in his life.
"I think he is ready, Skellum. You may begin."
"He is ready, Pater. But I would prefer to have another few months before-"
"He is ready, but needs a few more months? Speak clearly, Skellum."
"Pater. He is ready to begin his dementist training. I can have him back in the pits in six months."
The First waited silently, then said, "You are being evasive, Skellum, something I taught you. Normally, I would be proud. Right now, I want you to get to the point." "Sorry, Pater. The point is, he would be going back to the pits. The ones who start out in the pits aren't usually fit for anything but guard duty or rough muscle. My method is to pick out the most promising candidates for my academy during the indoctrination cram, and most of them wind up in the pits as simple dementia casters. Chainer is capable of doing much more for the Cabal. He could be a full-fledged dementist."
"Everything you are saying is known to me, Skellum."
Skellum nodded. "We are pushing Chainer toward his strengths. I'm not questioning that. I am simply wondering if we're pushing too fast. Dementia training has snapped many a young mind beyond repair. We both have high hopes for Chainer. I don't want to lose such a valuable asset after investing so much time and effort."
The First looked mildly amused, something Skellum had not seen before. "You make it sound so clinical, Master Skellum. Hard facts, hard values. This is your favorite pupil we're talking about."
"Pater. I'm only trying to keep my personal attachment to the boy separate from my opinion of his ability."
"Why would you want to do that? Business is business, but then again, family is family." "Yes, Pater."
"So speak, Skellum. Tell me why you want to wait." "I want him to be a dementist, not just a pit caster. You know his history, you know his temperament as well as I do. If he masters dementia training and returns to the pits, I'm afraid he'll become unbalanced. Dangerous to himself. To others."
"You have just described most of our current crop of dementia casters and all of the truly great ones. I fail to see your concern."
"Despite what we made him recite, Pater, the Cabal is about control. We amass power, and we control it. Chainer has the potential to be extremely powerful. That power will need to be carefully monitored and molded as it grows."
"Master Skellum," the First said. "That is exactly what I am proposing you and I do for the boy."
"Yes, Pater." Skellum knew when to abandon a failing argument. "Skellum," the First said, "listen to me carefully. I am aware of your concerns. I share them. The boy is too reactive, like all pit veterans. He assesses a threat, and he strikes. They have to be taught how to think before they act.
"But that is what you and I will teach him, my child. Imagine the perfect blend of pit fighter, dementist, and caster. To have in one man the body of an athlete, the mind of an artist, and the instincts of a trained warrior. Imagine him as a pit boss, supplying an entire games with just the monsters in his mind. Or picture the spectacle he'll put on when he enters the pits himself. And if the Order declares crusat, and the death squads come calling again, imagine how hard he will fight to defend his home and family."
"Pater?" Skellum hesitated, then blurted, "Are the death squads forming again? Has Captain Pianna violated the arrangement?"
"No. But her grip on power is not absolute. And none of us are immortal." The First smiled patiently.
"No, Pater."
"Do not worry, Skellum. Begin the next stage of Chainer's training first thing tomorrow. We will not lose him. "And tonight," he went on, "I want you and him to join me in my private box for dinner and the main event." His face alive with showmanship, the First's voice rose with gentle anticipation. "We're having a quartet of cephalid deep-sea warriors fight to the death against four flying Nantuko bug people. The Master of the Games is going to enchant the arena- cancel gravity-to let them float around freely, so they can have a good and proper crack at each other."
"We'll be there by the opening horn, Pater."
"Outstanding." The First crossed his arms behind his back.
"The First is wise."
"Long live the Cabal."
Skellum was escorted from the chamber and went off to tell Chainer the news.
CHAPTER 4
The southern capital of Mer Emperor Aboshan's realm lay three hundred miles out from and four miles below Cabal City. Built into the luminescent coral at the bottom of an undersea canyon, Llawan City had been renamed after Aboshan's wife when she retired from public life and took up residence there.
The empress's city consisted of only one actual building, but Llawan made it the grandest city ever contained in a single structure. The coral reef provided both light and natural forms for many of its residents and guests to inhabit. Llawan's servants had magically extended the natural growth of the coral into an elegant flow of knots and bulges that crawled halfway up the canyon walls. Her coralsmiths went on to hollow out and buttress the reef into a huge, interconnected series of rooms and hallways that served simultaneously as fortress, palace, and diplomatic retreat. Though any interior room could be warded and drained for use by air breathers, cephalids like Llawan lived in the submerged chambers constructed on the canyon walls. Guests from the surface stayed in the suites built specifically for them on the canyon floor. Llawan's architects had made full use of the odd space in an effort to achieve the sheer scope and scale demanded of them. The docks on the rim of the canyon were big enough to receive both undersea ships and creatures as large as whales. The Imperial Guards' barracks outside the city were capable of housing five hundred cephalids who could be mobilized for action in mere minutes. For the Empress's more diplomatic occasions, the palace could accommodate upward of a dozen visiting dignitaries and the formal dining room had a seating capacity of over one hundred.
First daughter of a noble house, Llawan had been part of a power-sharing arrangement between Aboshan, her own father, and several other high- ranking cephalids. Aboshan got the political and military clout he needed to cement his position as emperor, Llawan's father got the post of Imperial Treasurer, and the nobles got to avoid another financially disastrous civil war. Llawan, it was whispered, got her city-in-a-palace.