Since Celli had taken the green, she and Solimar led the worldforest in the actual funeral. The two green priests knelt among the vines, touching the white cloth. Celli had tears in her eyes. Solimar turned to the crowds that had gathered at the edges of the meadow. “Father Idriss was not a green priest, but he had a special connection to the forest. He was Theroc for all of us, Father of our people, and the father of my wife.”
Celli looked up. “And now he joins the worldforest.”
Together, they lifted the pale vines and draped them over the shrouded figure. The vines stirred, followed by other vines, until all the strands covered the body like an additional blanket. Leaves sprouted, tightening the green embrace that grew at an astonishing speed until buds appeared, rose higher, and unfolded to display dozens of creamy white orchids. A sweet, pervasive perfume filled the air, like scented applause for a life well lived.
Around the edge of the meadow, the observers murmured sounds of approval and wonderment. Estarra and her sisters hugged one another.
Grim business intruded as soon as night fell.
The numerous visitors took part in a large outdoor feast, which Rlinda Kett’s chefs had prepared to perfection. Peter listened to quiet conversations, Confederation representatives making deals, discussing politics. Representing the Roamer clans, Sam Ricks didn’t seem to know what to do at all, didn’t even know most of the guests. He stood with his hands in his pockets, offering condolences but to the wrong people; without the other clans around him, he seemed out of his element.
A ship arrived with unexpected visitors—Del Kellum, the former Speaker of the clans, as well as his daughter Zhett and their entire family. They looked haggard and distraught. Kellum barged into the funeral banquet, as if he didn’t care what was going on. “I need to see the King, by damn! This is a crisis—he’s got to know.”
Deputy Cain rose to his feet. Sam Ricks blinked and merely managed to look confused. Peter and Estarra both went forward to meet Kellum, while Ricks deferred.
All conversation stopped as the bearded man announced, “Our skymine on Golgen was destroyed. The hydrogues are back!” He cut off an outburst of conversation. “But they didn’t attack us, by damn. It was something else—a blight, a black stain that infected the drogues and destroyed their warglobes. A shadow arose from inside the planet itself—and one of the damned drogues even came up to warn us! Told us to get away, and all our skyminers barely got out in time. The whole damn planet was vomiting black when we flew away.”
Patrick Fitzpatrick uploaded and displayed horrific images of the inky stain welling up from the cloud banks. Peter had never seen anything like it, yet for some reason it reminded him of another strange occurrence—the report General Keah had sent via green priest not long ago about how her battle group had flushed out a hidden infestation of Klikiss robots, which had escaped into a mysterious shadow cloud. He frowned. Those two events couldn’t be related…
Nira watched the images with a drawn expression. “Another terrible shadow engulfed an Ildiran exploration ship far outside the Spiral Arm. I think it took my son. Some Ildirans believe it’s the return of the Shana Rei.” She looked around. “And that strikes great fear into their entire race. Adar Zan’nh is investigating now. Of course, we’ll share with you whatever he discovers.”
“It was awfully strange, by damn,” Del Kellum said. “Unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
“General Keah’s battle group just returned to CDF headquarters at Earth,” Peter said. “We will need to compare Del Kellum’s report with images of the shadow cloud they encountered.” He frowned. “I thought it was bad enough news that some of the Klikiss robots were still around.”
Estarra stood close to him, and as they watched the images of the blackness bleeding into the gas giant’s clouds, Peter felt his skin crawl.
Deputy Cain showed increasing concern. “It took us too long to realize the hydrogue threat when they first appeared, Sire. I suggest we study this with proper urgency, factor in General Keah’s report, and add whatever information the Ildirans can provide on the Shana Rei.”
“If there is proof,” Nira said. “We still don’t know. The historical accounts of the Shana Rei are sketchy in the Saga of Seven Suns, but I’ll return to Ildira immediately with the Mage-Imperator’s entourage. If the Saga has any information that we can use, I’ll communicate it via telink.”
Deputy Cain nodded to the King. “Even if we don’t know exactly what we’re up against, we should start full-scale ramp-up and escalation of the CDF. Just in case. With your permission, Sire?”
With the safety of the Confederation at stake, the King and Queen had to put aside their grief to avert a possible greater tragedy. Peter gave his permission, issuing orders to dispatch scouts and follow-up teams, widespread inquiries, full reports on all the ships in the CDF, strategic ekti reserves.
They didn’t even know the enemy yet, but once again Peter had to prepare for war.
FIFTY-NINE
RLINDA KETT
Rlinda had named her finest and favorite restaurant Arbor, for obvious reasons. It was a sheltered overhang on the Theron canopy with numerous finger decks and open balconies that could be enclosed during occasional inclement weather.
Colorful insects flitted about, some of them nuisances, some of them delicious. A stream of customers came and went, and Rlinda liked to think that some of them made excuses for business trips here to Theroc just so they could eat dinner at Arbor. She had commanded her chefs to be absolutely impressive.
During her years of travel as the Confederation’s trade minister, Rlinda always kept her eyes open for new delicacies and recipes. She did her work, while running her trading company, but she really wanted to run the perfect restaurant. Now she had three: one on Relleker, one on Earth, one here.
She had insisted on providing the food for Father Idriss’s funeral banquet, telling the King and Queen not to concern themselves. Rlinda instructed her chefs to give the meal understated elegance. The meal had been perfect—except for the disastrous news of the Golgen skymine and the ominous shadow clouds.
In the following days, while the Confederation buzzed with the reappearance of hydrogues and black robots, and possibly the Shana Rei, Rlinda reminded herself that she was done with all that. No longer her concern. Instead, she met with her “culinary explorers,” who constantly sampled the bounty of the Theron forest, while teams of chefs concocted new recipes and preparation methods with all the dedication of scientific researchers. Now that was important.
They created various dishes of insect meat, succulent grubs, sweet or tart berries, herbs with indescribable flavors, stems, leaves, roots, bulbs, tubers. Yes, she loved this restaurant, and her chefs went out of their way to show off their favorite new creations, indulging her, overstuffing her—exactly as she liked.
Sitting at her own canopy table on her own finger deck, she ate only small servings in order to save room for more entrees. She didn’t want to eat too much, but sometimes she couldn’t help it. The chefs and servers brought out sample plates, one after another. For months, they had been experimenting with new concoctions, but each menu item needed her approval, and Rlinda had very high standards.
She glanced at tables on the other decks, where offworlders as well as some adventurous Therons—even a few green priests—were expanding their gourmet tastes. With so much bounty in the worldforest, Theron natives rarely bothered to sample outside delicacies. When she noticed a green priest couple trying several dishes from the “offworld menu,” as opposed to the “Theron specialties” pages, she watched as they tasted, shared, and exchanged opinions.