"The Shver are all right if you respect their customs and stay out of their personal space," Van Ryke said. "But you’ve got to remember that at the other end of their sphere of influence they are still conquering worlds as a solution to their population problems."
Jellico’s glance came back to rest, as if by chance, on Ali. "Get in their way—say something they don’t like—and you’ve got a duel on your hands. They’ve channeled their aggressions into hunting for outlaws at the Spin Axis, and into formalized duels, but those aggressions are still there." He paused, then said, "Any other questions?"
No one spoke.
Jellico nodded. "Those scheduled for leave time can depart now. I’ll see if the Terran legate can get us moving on the paperwork faster. Doctor, if you’d go with me and show me how to get around?"
"Gladly, Captain," Cofort said.
They left.
Dane looked across at Ali, who gave a little sigh. Dane wasn’t fooled. Ali seemed incapable of permitting anyone to see that he had normal emotions, but just the same he knew that Kamil felt the same way that he and Rip did: what had happened to the crew of the Starvenger was their mystery to be solved, and if they, couldn’t solve it before leaving the Exchange, it wouldn’t be for lack of trying.
Rael Cofort was considerably amused to find that the evocative name of the captain-legate’s corridor—The Way of the Rain-dappled Lilies—seemed to have originated entirely in someone’s imagination.
There were certainly no lilies in sight, rain-dappled or otherwise.
In fact, she thought as she paused outside the entrance-way to the legate’s quarters, hadn’t the Kanddoyd world lacked rain? She recalled reading about the race’s long battle against growing radiation from a swelling sun, and the fierce, hot, scouring winds that had driven them underground before they had finally abandoned their home and taken up life in space—one of the few races that did not live on planets. At any rate, these domiciles were all exactly alike to the human eye—plain steelplast doors set in blank walls. Only the nameplates varied; each was inscribed in three scripts, Kanddoyd, Shver, and Terran.
The corridor was situated in what inhabitants considered a prime area, Rael knew; the front of the domicile looked out over the breathtaking curve of the habitat. Odd, she thought, the dichotomy between enclosure and exposure: it was, she knew, a constant of Kanddoyd architecture.
"Coming, Dr. Cofort?"
Captain Jellico’s voice interrupted her perusal of the corridor. She looked up, saw that the legate’s door was open and a diminutive Kanddoyd waited just beyond for them to enter.
She glanced up into Jellico’s face as she walked inside, expecting impatience with her lagging behind. His mouth was pressed in its familiar noncommittal line, but there was a hint of humor in his narrowed gray eyes.
"The honored legate welcomes sentients from his home planet with ineffable joy," the Kanddoyd said in its odd, grainy voice, while portions of its complicated carapace rubbed against other portions, making cricketlike chirrups. "If the imposing visitors from far Terra would ambulate this way?"
The being gestured down a narrow tiled hallway, then turned and led the way, its chitinous feet clicking rhymically. As Jellico stepped behind Rael, he murmured, "I sense it’s been a while since the last Terran visited Ross."
Rael nodded, trying not to smile. A moment later the Kanddoyd and its odd Terran vocabulary were forgotten when she stepped through into a spectacular garden straight from Terra. A flower-scented breeze wafted in her face, and she heard the sounds of birds and insects, and the hush of leaves tossing—and realized, with difficulty, that this was a masterfully done holograph.
"Do you like it?" A quiet voice spoke from under one of the trees.
Rael realized she had gasped. Stepping forward, she peered into the shadows just as a tall, thin, spectral-featured man emerged into the light.
"I have eight projectors," Ross said. He lifted an arm and waved it—and the movement cast no shadow. "Keeps the proportions correct as well. The aromas are recent additions to my air system."
"Roses," Rael said. "Roses, jasmine, carnations. Grass."
Ross smiled. His features reminded Rael of a sad hound dog. "I hoped I had the proportions right. Six years it has taken me to program all the details. But I really think I have the proportions right. Do you?"
Rael looked up at Jellico, who said only, "I haven’t been dirtside on Terra for a long time."
"I have been there more recently," Rael said, "and I really think you’ve captured the best of the gardens I’ve ever visited."
"It’s a combination," Ross said eagerly. "I’ve seven specimens of the genus Rosa of the Rosaceae family, and that there is Epilabium angustifolium... and of course these varieties of Liliaceae..." He stopped suddenly, seemed to recall himself, and said, "Forgive me. I get enthusiastic over this hobby of mine. You are here on business. Shall we step into the office?"
He tabbed a control hidden in the holographic shadows, and a door seemed to open in one of the trees, making the whole scene seem still more unreal.
Once Rael stepped through, she felt that the universe had righted itself again. She found herself in a plain office, furnished simply in what was probably regulation for Patrol officers of Ross’s rank. The lighting was efficient, and there were several ordinary chairs opposite the desk. Strangely, though, Ross’s windows and view ways were completely blocked: there was no sign of the sweeping view that made outside domiciles so desirable to habitat dwellers.
Ross sat down behind the desk, and folded his hands. "Now, how may I help you? I take it you are not here on ordinary Trade business?"
Captain Jellico said, "Correct. We discovered an abandoned vessel on our way into the system."
Ross said, "There are standards set for the registry and claim of salvage under the Concord of Harmony."
Jellico gave a brief nod. "We’ve studied those."
Rael, acutely aware of the shades of Jellico’s voice, sensed impatience. She said smoothly, "The explications that were sent along with the text of the Concord were admirable in their completeness, but it seems if we follow the directions contained there, we’ll be spending weeks going from office to office performing polite rituals as we get passed from official to official." She opened her hands. "Unfortunately, we are facing a time limit to our visit here."
Jellico added, "I hoped you could assist in telling us precisely whom to see and what papers to file so we can keep this process as short as possible."
The Patrol officer said, "I have no jurisdiction in this area, of course, but I can see if there’s a chance that the trade administrator will be able to aid you. Can you give me your ship ID and that of the one you found?"
Jellico quoted them, and Ross typed them into the computer, then sent his message. "As you probably surmised, business with Kanddoyds is a pleasant but leisurely affair. Ordinarily it takes time just to get an appointment. As it happens, you are in luck. The Administrator of Trade Executed in Perfect Amity is human—or at least, he was born human." Ross paused, looking slightly pained; Rael wondered if whatever changes the administrator had gone through repelled Ross.
"Flindyk, isn’t that his name?" Jellico said.
Ross smiled. "You have done your reading."
"Isn’t that a Kanddoyd name?" Rael asked.
Ross turned to her. "It is indeed a Kanddoyd version of his name, which I understand was Flynn von Dieck. He doesn’t use the Terran name at all anymore—hasn’t for a couple hundred years."
"A couple hundred years ?" Rael repeated.