At last, the zhongdu stirred from his contemplations and exposed a single claw tip. The appendage gleamed with red and black lacquer as it pointed at the man’s chest. “You have neglected Duty. You have broken the third agreement, human. By Law, this entire system should be forfeit to us-an example to be made, of cindered worlds and ashy skies…”
What has come to his attention? And more important, who was the messenger? “Esteemed-”
“You cannot force harmony from this dissonance! My sources are accurate, timely, detailed in their facts.”
Just fishing for information? I wonder. “The third agreement?”
The zhongdu bared his teeth. Even at this distance, its breath was hot upon the Mexica’s face. “With proper concessions, We may be satisfied with a colony world serving as an example. What do you offer to restore proper balance between us?”
“Esteemed, I still await the accusations.”
The Hjo grimaced, revealing twin rows of tiny, cutting teeth. “You are a bold servant, human. But this is not a matter for a Speaker of the Law to adjudicate. This is between us. Our arrangements require that you provide us with all evidence of the Ones-Who-Wait in a prompt and forthright matter. If you have found anything…”
Ahuizotl felt suddenly, unaccountably sad. An Imperial security breach. At the highest levels. The Mirror, I would think. Now there must be another purge. He straightened his shoulders. “Esteemed, I assure you that the evidence is quite poor. It consists only of three missing ships. We are mounting an effort to examine the area of space and determine if a permanent hazard to navigation exists, and if so, to determine what it might be that all might avoid the region in future.”
The zhongdu settled back, wrinkling his long leathery snout, and took a protracted drag on a nargile sitting beside the chair. The sharp scent reaching the Mexica’s nostrils suggested opium, or another derivative of the poppy. No, not just opium. Something else less subtle. Probably synthetic. Remarkable how much psychoactivity Hjo physiology absorbs without noticeable effect. It is true that in his place I, too, should not be pleased. Nor surprised.
After a moment, the creature issued a long, coiling stream of smoke from one nostril. Its eyes had settled back in their sockets, leaving only a faint, disgusted gleam.
Ekbanz considered the human with disgust. Look at the fragile, pink-skinned toy in the heavy jacket and fur-lined cloak! See how it mimics Us, as though taking our seeming would confer our strength! This one seems sick, too. Behold the yellowing of the eyes. But Right Thought has guided it to me, just as my patience with Sahane wanes. Their ships are fragile-easily lost in the abyss-yes, there is Purpose to be found here.
“We shall send an expert to review the situation,” the zhongdu declared. “As we have great experience in such matters.”
“Esteemed, such generosity is far beyond our-” the Mexica began.
“ Hsst! Your fleet’s departure requires our emissary aboard the flagship. Do not consider otherwise.”
“Of course, Esteemed.” The Mexica bowed his head. I hope your agent is disposable. “The expedition’s departure is imminent. The last shuttle leaves this evening at the second dinner hour.”
The zhongdu shook its head slowly. “You will wait until the emissary arrives. Go now and prepare. Your presence here is no longer required.”
Despite an intense desire to begin running, the man held a measured pace as he removed himself from the chamber. Once outside, in the blue-lit tunnel, he clenched his jaw against a stabbing pain behind both temples. A migraine and no med-band to alleviate the pressure.
With the toy gone, Ekbanz glared down at the pitiful specimen his servitors now dragged before him. The zhongdu felt a painful throbbing in his forebrain, just from considering the doleful aspect of the Hjo at his feet. But, as was proper, he said nothing for a long moment, partaking of the bitter smoke provided by the water pipe.
“A punishment is in order,” he declared at last, “for disturbing the right order of my heavens. You were sent here with great expectations, Sahane, but you have only proven how low your noble line has fallen.” The zhongdu made a gesture indicating large and abiding regret. His nostrils flared wide to inhale the aspect of the young priest suffering deliciously from pure fear. Ekbanz felt almost repaid for having this embarrassment cluttering up the embassy for so many months. “The Hypothesis that brought all of this about was posited by you, and you will prove it out.”
Sahane’s nose quivered. “Esteemed, I only imagined…”
“Pack your bags. You will accompany the local toys to investigate this anomaly.”
“Yes, of course. Guide my Thoughts.”
“They shall find Guidance.”
Sahane shuffled out into the outer hallway and sank immediately into a dreadful depression. Isn’t it enough that I am exiled to this backwater? He fished about in his pouch for a box of opium pellets. I am too large of mind and body to be stuffed into a miniature spaceship! How shall I stand the smell and chatter of these ignorant toys? It will take too long-these foolish exercises are beyond the Rim. The universe is full of worthless stellar clusters. I am no astronomer! This is beneath the station of anyone in my family! Pah!
“Ah, Most Honored One… word has it that you have received a crucial posting, a task from the zhongdu himself. Where are you going?”
The young Hjo straightened up, seeing two older members of the embassy approaching. Their fur was lying quite flat and still, indicating hidden amusement and delight.
“As you can well guess,” he replied, trying to keep his voice level, “this is a secret mission, and not to be bandied about. I must leave you now. There is little time to prepare.”
He brushed past the others quickly, but still heard the sneering whisper: “Maybe the great Sahane can bring Right Thought to the humans and their chattels!”
“Yes, a task worthy of our esteemed holy one!”
“I do not need servants to remind me of my family duties,” the young Hjo mumbled to himself. “More than a thousand generations of noble duty are more reputation than any one Hjogadim of the Sacred Line should have to bear.” Once safely inside his sleeping compartment Sahane slumped against the hatchway. “Little is more useless,” he whispered bitterly to the nearest wall, “than the last priest of a race without need for Gods.”
A thousand meters away, the unmarked aircar lifted from the landing stage with a swirl of dust and sped away into the thick, humid sky. A constant layer of cloud lay over the city, trapped beneath the massive dome which enclosed the Capital. The vapors and exhalations of the millions living below rose upward, forming a microclimate beneath the glassite despite the presence of thousands of air circulators in the dome superstructure. The leaden clouds replied with a constant, stinging rain.
Two kilometers from the skytower, four Tocatl -class airtanks dropped out of the gloom and settled into formation around the aircar. Now the entire convoy increased speed, racing northwest across the sprawl. In the comfortable passenger compartment, the nobleman coughed harshly and rubbed his temples, trying to banish the remaining chill. The servants had dressed him on the platform, resealing his armored skinsuit, applying a fresh med-band, and pressing a cup of circulatory stimulant into his hands.