Jaggarneth shot her a knowing glance. “Let’s move that off the launch pad for a moment. All I will say is if the peace conference was in anyway disrupted it would have unfortunate political consequences for both Yuanshi and Daode.”
“And you would not want the governor of Daode to look bad, would you?” the Maharani suggested slyly. “I do not approve of my son being used as a political pawn.”
“It is Kartikeya’s limited ambition that has made him reach for the low-hanging fruit,” Jaggarneth retaliated. “I am sorry it is your son that is caught up in all of this, for I suspect you would otherwise approve most heartily.”
The Maharani glared at him. “Find my son,” she snapped. “Your politics disgust me.”
Without waiting for a response, she got up out of her chair and walked to the window, leaving Fenris to close the holovid connection.
“Odious man!” she muttered, gazing out at the gardens beyond.
“I can still hear you!” came Jaggarneth’s voice from the holovid unit.
“Not for much longer,” muttered Fenris, reaching for the power switch. Closing the case, he joined the Maharani at the window and awaited her instructions.
“You must go to Yuanshi,” she told him. “I do not trust Jaggarneth to do my bidding, let alone understand half the phrases he uses. How dare he call my son a low-hanging fruit!”
“The only interstellar ship to hand is the Platypus and Quirinus refuses to go,” remarked Fenris. “He made that quite clear.”
“So you said,” mused the Maharani. “Tell me your plan.”
“After I left Quirinus and that idiot security officer, I spoke to a few people at the spaceport. The teacher and her pupils have been invited to the peace conference to take part in the school band competition, which Governor Atman is running to show how the five systems ‘can join together in harmony’,” said Fenris. His scornful tone suggested he was not exactly enthralled with the concept himself. “I also learned that as yet they have been unable to find a ship to take them to Epsilon Eridani. That is when I invited them to meet with you.”
“And here they are, stomping on my flowerbeds. How does that help us?”
“If we can persuade Quirinus to take the Newbrum school band to Daode, I can easily accompany them,” replied Fenris. “From there it is but a short hop to Yuanshi.”
“Quirinus is hardly likely to be so charitable to total strangers.”
“Ravana, his daughter, is musical. If she were to be invited to join the band…?”
The Maharani regarded Fenris cautiously. His suggestion was unusually devious and for a moment she found herself wondering if he had planned it this way from the start.
“Send me Surya’s clone,” she said. “I should see to our visitors. The clone will hopefully keep the children amused while I talk to the tutor.”
Fenris took this as his cue to leave and after collecting his case, left her alone in the room. The Maharani remained by the window for a few more moments, then upon hearing the sound of shuffling footsteps turned to see Surya’s cyberclone walking stiffly into view. With barely a glance at the clone, she moved to a nearby wall mirror and scrutinised her reflection, deep in thought as she pushed a length of hair behind her ear. Satisfied, she stepped lightly across the room and paused near where the cyberclone waited by the door.
“You are not my son,” she said sadly. “No matter how much you look like him.”
Unbeknown to either the Maharani or Fenris, Miss Clymene had decided the Newbrum band were duty-bound to serenade their host with a segment of their planned conference performance as a thank-you for her hospitality. The Maharani and the cyberclone thus arrived at the palace dining hall to find Endymion, Bellona and Philyra sat in a semicircle, clutching their instruments and staring in tense anticipation at the conductor’s baton Miss Clymene held in her outstretched hand. Upon seeing the Maharani enter, Miss Clymene nodded to her students and began to count them in.
“One, two, three! Two, two, three…!”
Maharani Uma reeled as the first discordant wail of trombone, clarinet and flute rolled across the room. The hall quickly filled with a cacophony of hoots, parps and squeaks as Endymion, Bellona and Philyra put their half-hearted life and soul into a performance that whilst lacking in finesse, was certainly loud and fast. Incredibly, somewhere within the maelstrom of notes, the Maharani almost recognised what they were playing and as the band’s confidence grew the piece did start to quiver with genuine signs of life. Yet it was clear there were too few players to plug the huge gaps in the aural canvas and it most definitely was not something she wanted to listen to any longer than necessary. When the performance came to a close after several excruciating minutes she was momentarily too stunned to clap.
“Did you recognise that?” she whispered to the cyberclone.
“The notes and melody are a close approximation of Constance Scott’s Woden Waltz from her Barnard’s Star Concerto,” the clone replied.
Looking embarrassed, Endymion, Bellona and Philyra lowered their instruments.
“Bravo!” cried the Maharani, clapping her hands. “Well done!”
Miss Clymene bowed meekly. She was not used to praise.
“That was an excerpt from Woden Waltz by Scott,” she said. “Part of a musical montage we have created to represent the five systems.”
“These are your best music students?”
“Our only music students,” Miss Clymene announced proudly.
“That figures,” mused the Maharani. “Shall we eat?”
She directed Miss Clymene to the far end of the table, who in turn beckoned to her students to join her. Six places had been set for dinner: Endymion plumped for the chair to Miss Clymene’s right; Bellona sat to the tutor’s left, opposite her brother, with Philyra taking the seat next to her friend. The Maharani thought it was rather rude the way Philyra ignored everyone to instead scowl at her wristpad, which had stopped working as soon she had entered the palace. She gave a wry smile when she recalled she had forgot to mention that the palace’s network shield was extremely fussy about what electrical equipment could be used indoors.
Once her guests were settled, the Maharani took her seat at the head of the table, opposite Miss Clymene, leaving Surya’s cyberclone to take the vacant seat to her right. The food had already arrived and the table held a variety of tantalising traditional Indian dishes.
“I trust you are all hungry,” said the Maharani. “As you can see, we have been joined by my son’s cyberclone, which we are training to assist in official duties.”
Surya’s clone smiled. “It is a pleasure to meet new people.”
Bellona stared at the young boy sitting opposite Philyra. Her friend beside her had managed to stand up, help herself to vegetables and rice, then sit back down again all whilst continuing to tap angrily at her dead wristpad.
“Amazing,” Bellona murmured. “Is he really…? Ow!” She glared at Endymion, who upon seeing an opportunity for mischief had given her a kick to shut her up.
Philyra looked up and glanced at Surya’s clone. “Really what?”
“A really huge Gods of Avalon fan,” Endymion told her, helping himself to food. He winked at Bellona, who stuck her tongue out at him as she rubbed her bruised shin.
“No way!” exclaimed Philyra, abandoning her wristpad. “So am I!”
“I hear Avalon is covering the peace conference in Epsilon Eridani,” the Maharani noted, regarding Miss Clymene carefully. “Fenris tells me you are representing Newbrum in the music competition. That must be terribly exciting!”