Below that frowning fortress the land had been terraced to form pretty gardens filled with flowers, blossoming trees, and fountains. Despite the flowers, Jay had a feeling it was late autumn in Ilkazam. The leaves of the trees flashed winter fire and lay like colorful scattered scarves on the grass.
Bordering each garden were more buildings with no interlinking architectural style. Most of them were colorful with plenty of windows. Most extended no higher than two stories.
With one awesome exception. A single tower, which looked as if it had been built from smoky crystal, pointed warningly toward the sky, and as he stared down the length of that narrow valley, Jay decided he never wanted to experience a windstorm in the needle. The cliffs had to create a hellacious wind-tunnel effect, and that building would be swaying like a ten-dollar hooker on six-inch heels.
A wall surrounded this improbable edifice, and it seemed like a pretty archaic and wimpy way to hold back enemies in a spacefaring culture. Jay said as much, and Mark nudged him with an elbow, indicating guard posts on the cliffs. Jay looked closer and saw the blunt muzzles of weapons thrusting like alligator snouts from the cracks and fissures in the cliff wall.
“Lasers,” whispered Mark. “Big ones by the look of it. Missile silos, and there’s a flickering in the air over that wall – maybe a forcefield?”
“Fairy-tale palace with great big horror-movie teeth,” grunted Ackroyd. “Clad we’re invited. I’d hate to crash this party.”
“Burning Sky, you are Tisianne,” Taj said, and there was no joy in the words.
The regent of the House Ilkazam dropped his head into his hands and tugged nervously at the hair over his temples. Tisianne had known his uncle a long time. For this terribly refined, terribly controlled man, this was the equivalent of hysterics.
What was it Jay had said about invited guests? thought Tisianne. But the invitation was most grudgingly offered. The kind of invitation you issue to unexpected drop-ins and shirttail relatives. Somehow my arrival here has made a bad situation worse.
There had been no honor guard, just a single equerry with a couple of Tarhiji soldiers to whisk them through back doors and forgotten hallways to the office of the Raiyis. The pair of guards flanking the elaborate double doors had insisted the travelers be scanned even though Tis told them repeatedly it wouldn’t do any good. The three human bodies were outside the genetic mapping of Takis. Jay had taken it with ill grace, yelping loudly at the pinprick as blood was withdrawn from his wrist, and had spent the next few minutes muttering about alien poisons and precious bodily fluids. Finally the infrared trip wires, which flashed across the door at random and ever-changing heights and angles, were disconnected, and they entered.
Though opulent, the office was clearly a space designed for a busy man to work, and work efficiently. For an instant Tis wondered if her human companions were disappointed. Then she forgot all about them and their reactions. It struck hard and deep as a blow that nothing in the room had changed since Tis had stood here before his father forty-four Earth years ago and shouted bitter defiance into that beloved face. They were the last words they had ever spoken to each other.
On one wall hung a portrait of Tis and his mother done just before her death. On the desk a shifting holograph filled with pictures of Tisianne – riding, dancing, skating, reading. There was also a starkly simple flower arrangement. The petals and leaves reflected back the lights and stung Tisianne’s eyes. As a youth Tis had excelled at the art of flower arrangement. That had been his last creation for his father. Shaklan had had the flowers freeze-dried and lacquered to preserve this final gift from a rebellious child.
And now Taj had unwittingly brought home her sin and her loss by playing patient caretaker to a mausoleum in memory of a half-dead man.
What kind of a Takisian are you, Taj brant Halima sek Ragnar sek Omian, thought Tisianne, that you have no ego?
And that was the thought which had apparently elicited the outburst from Taj. It was very embarrassing for Tisianne. She knew the mentatics training she had force-fed this borrowed body was marginal at best, but she hadn’t even known she was being scanned.
Taj raised his head and waved them toward chairs. Zabb sprawled with elegant, mocking ease. He wore his Network uniform like a defiant shout. Trips sidled crabwise toward a heavily carved high-back chair. Once seated, he perched stiffly and uncomfortably upright as if caged. Jay was as cool and insouciant as ever. He sat down, relaxed, and waited – it was the detective’s gift. Tis selected a comfortable settee. None of these aggressively masculine chairs seemed designed to accommodate a pregnant woman’s unique physique, and she saw no reason to suffer.
The computer screen inset in the polished desktop sprang to life. Taj bent and read, and the light flowing up from below accentuated the lines of strain and turned the eye sockets into dark hollows. With a sigh he pushed back from the desk and swiveled in his chair to face Tisianne.
“Your mind is Tisianne’s, the body contains not a platelet of Takisian blood. But the child you carry is not only part Takisian, but carries the genetic markers of House Ilkazam.”
“It’s a rather long and complicated story.”
“I’m in no hurry.”
Tis was. Her teeth sketched at her lower lip. “Please, I must know, is Blaise here?” Taj gave her a look. She subsided.
The older man turned to Zabb. “If I didn’t have larger problems to deal with, I’d chastise you with a laser whip. Your little stunt sent that Network ship careening into our space, violating the boundaries established by treaty.” Zabb started, surprised. “This behavior was easily discouraged, but the precedent set is unfortunate.”
“But they were discouraged?”
“They’ve withdrawn to the Bonded platform.” Taj smiled humorously at Zabb’s expression. “Did you think they’d go meekly home? You’ve breached a Network contract, and we’ve fired shots – the first shots fired against a Network vessel in over eight thousand years. For all I know, we may be at war again. All because of you.’,
“I have always had a remarkable effect on people,” Zabb drawled, and Baz choked.
Taj quelled the lesser noble with one slitted glance. “Get back to Ship Home. I want extra patrols flown. Keep a watch on that Network vacu.”
Baz nodded quickly and exited.
Taj drummed fingers on the desk, the overlong nail on his left thumb hitting with a sharp click as he studied the humans. “And what do I do with you?”
Tis moved to stand between Jay and Trips. “They don’t know House Talk very well. Try Sham’al. And you needn’t do anything with them. They are my bodyguards, and one is of my line. I adopted him.”
“How… like you.” Taj pushed back his hair, folded his hands as if to keep them still. “They carry the Enhancer in the pattern of their genes.”
Enhancer threw them. Tis explained that it meant the virus. Trips had nothing to say to that. As usual Jay did.
“We call it the wild card,” said Jay. The English term sounded strange coming at the end of a burst of Takisian.
“Wild card?” Taj looked to his nephew for amplification.
“It’s a term from an Earth card game called poker. It’s meant to imply randomness, something that strikes without warning.”
Taj nodded, absorbed this, then, cocking an eyebrow at Tis, said, “I’m still waiting to hear how your soul came to reside in this pretty pregnant vessel, and I’m most intrigued to discover how you managed to impregnate yourself.”
“The father of the child is Blaise, my grandson.”
“So you’re carrying your great-granddaughter?”
“Yes.”
“Fascinating. An incest for which there is no name.”
“It was a subtle revenge.”