Besides, who knew what else hid in the greenery. A minute ago, Tiffany thought she and Miko had utter privacy. Now it turned out they had performed for an all-male audience. A chimp handed Ja-lan the big recoilless cannon, which he slung easily over his shoulder, giving the chimp his lance to carry. Perhaps he was not as innocent about guns as he pretended. No one made a move to take away Miko’s pistol.
Miko insisted on having their clothes back, and they dressed with as much grace as they could muster. Ja-lan asked their names, smiling in appreciation when he heard Tiffany’s. She liked that. Tiffany felt totally comfortable being called Panic—proud even. Never quite trusting guys who pretended her name was nothing special.
“Come, your ladyships.” Ja-lan of Apex made a polite “after you” bow. “You will want to see the Flower Princess.”
Sensors said he really believed that. What Tiffany wanted to see was the habitat’s command deck—but she had to be careful not to make demands that might tip her hand, especially with no certainty of being fulfilled. Instead, Tiffany asked, “Who is the Flower Princess? And why would we want to see her?”
Ja-lan replied with a puzzled look. “You are indeed from far away. The Flower Princess is the Sacred Queen’s daughter. She can best help you. I am, after all, merely a man.”
Merely a man. How completely helpless. This came from two meters of tanned savage, with a long sword at his hip, and a recoilless cannon slung over his shoulder! Yet sensors said he meant it. Tiffany felt like she was getting a lesson in polite open diplomacy.
They set out into the tall green tangle with Ja-lan leading. Vines snaked overhead, palm fronds brushed Tiffany’s hips and shoulders, roots tripped at her feet. Huge swift insects hummed and darted about, barely visible through the canopy. Twice they had to stop for giant centipede-like creatures, multi-legged horrors the size of a house who were placidly eating their way through the landscape. Finally, they came to a clearing choked with elephant grass. Beyond the grasstops, Tiffany could see the green sides of the habitat curving up into cloudy hologram sky. They seemed to be at the bottom of a jungle valley, surrounded by misty heights—standard for a hollow spin-habitat where every direction was up.
Ja-lan’s feathered mount flew down to join them. He was a hippogriff—half bird, half mammal—a semi-intelligent, bioengineered beaked quadruped, designed to be a flying mount and pack animal for low-g worlds and habitats. SuperChimps set down their burdens and melted into the tall grass, returning with fruit; pears, mangos, and mutant papayas.
As they sat eating, Tiffany’s microamps picked up the whap-whap-whap of jet-powered rotors. A sleek tilt-rotored twin-tailed VTOL came in low over the canopy, hovered for a second like a silver insect, then descended into the clearing, flattening the tall grass with its propwash. Between its stubby wings sat an open cabin with a curved windscreen. Chimps piled the packs and ammo aboard, and Ja-lan walked his hippogriff into the enclosed cargo hold beneath the cabin, then turned to them. “Come, please. The Flower Princess will be delighted.”
Miko looked at her, as if to say, “Now what?”
Tiffany shrugged—“We go.” The last man among mutants who had offered her a ride had ended up stuffing her out an airlock into orbit. But Ja-lan of Apex had Commander Hesse beat by a parsec. Instead of smirking and threatening, he got her and Miko to do whatever he wanted just by being winsome yet manly. Had Ja-lan been in command of the slavers, she and Miko would be in the bowels of the Hiryu, whisked politely off to who-knows-where.
Miko shook her head. “Okay, boss lady. But if things turn out badly, remember my impulse was to plug him.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
They trooped aboard, leaving the Chimps in the clearing, and the silver VTOL lifted off. There was no crew, and the flight must have been preprogrammed. Ja-lan spent the whole trip pointing out sights and peeling their mangoes.
Halfway up the cloud-wracked valley a gleaming aerostat hove into sight, a floating gold pyramid of ultralight construction, topped by the slender towers of a temple-palace. Ja-lan grinned proudly. “Welcome to Apex.”
The VTOL set herself down on a hanger pad at the edge of the floating city. From there, moving stairs took them past narrow walk-streets and hanging gardens. People packed the rooftops and terraced patios—naked children sat atop garden walls—all watching in awed silence, even the kids. “We don’t have visitors very often,” Ja-lan explained.
Tiffany could believe it, considering what she had come through to get there. “When did you last see someone from outside?”
“None of us can remember,” Ja-lan admitted. “Perhaps the Flower Princess knows.”
Flowers climbed the walls and towers of the temple-palace. The princess herself waited for them at the top of the moving stairs, wearing a bell-shaped skirt, embroidered jacket, and a blood-ruby necklace, her black serpent tresses held in place by a diamond comb. Beside her stood a nude serving girl with flowers in her hair, gravely holding a gold cup of welcome.
Ja-lan stopped at the head of the stairs, saying men could come no farther. “But my good wishes go with you.”
Tiffany took the cup to her lips. The wine was fresh and fruity. Sensor readings showed the Flower Princess was as serene as she seemed—totally at ease on her palace porch. In the midst of her floating city. Surrounded by a sealed habitat guarded by maniacal gun-toting Bugs, orbiting in an abandoned system.
All Tiffany got was that greeting cup. There was no question of hearing their business until they had been groomed, fed, and rested. Women and girls took them to a tiled pool, for their second dip of the day, toweling them dry afterward. Long flowing skirts and bright embroidered blouses waited for them on the tiles. Their own clothes were whisked away, along with Miko’s recoilless pistol.
Having been washed, dressed, and disarmed, they were lodged in an airy tower room, trimmed with polished aromatic wood and decorated by rows of tiles glazed in astonishing hues. There they were fed figs, flatbread, humus, honey cakes, and black olives off crystal platters. Seeing there was no rushing these people, Tiffany ate and slept.
She was awakened by an eager brown-skinned serving girl called Dee-vi, who climbed up to sit cross-legged on the bed, saying, “The Flower Princess will see you now.”
Her highness turned out to be a hard sell. Tiffany’s sensors showed the Flower Princess was concerned but unconvinced. “We must protect ourselves,” she explained. “The outside is a dangerous place.”
Tiffany agreed, but pointed out that the outside universe would soon come crashing into Floreal.
“So you say. We know more about the outside than you might imagine. For instance we know that a dozen hours ago a slaver ship rendezvoused with another vessel, then dropped off two passengers. Shortly afterward, you appeared.”
Tiffany admitted that they were those two. Her ensuing story about being summarily tossed out the airlock by Commander Hesse sounded fairly hollow, even to her.
“What if I told you that slaver ship has returned, matching orbits with us? ”
Tiffany believed it. Hesse must have come back to see if a dozen hours in a v-suit had made her and Miko more manageable.
“Luckily, it is not up to me to decide,” the Flower Princess declared. “The Sacred Queen will want to interview you, and make her own decision.”
“When will that be?” Tiffany had much to do, and not much time to do it in.
“When she wills it.”
The audience was at an end. Dee-vi, their grinning serving girl, waited at the door of the chamber, anxious to see to their needs. Wanting to get her bearings, Tiffany asked for a tour of the aerostat. Dee-vi happily obliged, taking them from the highest tower to the city edge, where winged young people sat perched on railings like gargoyles, gossiping and flirting, then soaring out over the misty green riot below.