:Hunt?: SKitty asked hopefully from her perch on Dick’s shoulders.
No! Dick replied hastily. Just look, don’t hunt!
The cat was gaining startled—and Dick thought, appreciative—looks from passersby.
“Just what is the status value of a totemic animal?” Erica asked curiously.
“It’s the fact that the animal can be tamed at all. Aside from a handful of domestic herbivores, most animal life on Lacu’un has never been tamed. To be able to take a carnivore and train it to the hand implies that the gods are with you in a very powerful way.” Vena dimpled. “I’ll let you in on a big secret; frankly, Lan and I preferred the record of the Brightwing over the other two ships; you seemed to be more sympathetic to the Lacu’un. That’s why we told you about the totemic animals, and why we left you until last.”
“It wouldn’t have worked without Dick,” Captain Singh told her. “SKitty has really bonded to him in a remarkable way; I don’t think this presentation would come off half so impressively if he had to keep her on a lead.”
“It wouldn’t,” Vena replied, directing them around a corner. At the end of a short street was a fifteen foot wall—carved, of course—pierced by an arching entranceway.
“The palace,” she said, rather needlessly.
Vena had been right. The kreshta were everywhere.
Dick could feel SKitty trembling with the eagerness to hunt, but she was managing to keep herself under control. Only the lashing of her tail betrayed her agitation.
He waited at parade rest, trying not to give in to the temptation to stare, as the Captain and the Negotiator, Grace Vixen, were presented to the five rulers of the Lacu’un in an elaborate ceremony that resembled a stately dance. Behind the low platform holding the five dignitaries in their iridescent robes were five soberly clad retainers, each with one of the “totemic animals.” Dick could see now what Vena had meant; the handlers had their creatures under control, but only barely. There was something like a bird, something resembling a small crocodile, something like a snake, but with six very tiny legs, a creature vaguely catlike, but with a feathery coat, and a beast resembling a teddybear with scales. None of the handlers was actually holding his beast, except the bird-handler. All of the animals were on short chains, and all of them punctuated the ceremony with soft growls and hisses.
So SKitty, perched freely on Dick’s shoulders, had drawn no few murmurs of awe from the crowd of Lacu’un in the Audience Hall.
The presentation glided to a conclusion, and the Lacu’teveras whispered something to Vena behind her fan.
“With your permission, Captain, the Lacu’teveras would like to know if your totemic beast is actually as tame as she appears?”
“She is,” the Captain replied, speaking directly to the consort, and bowing, exhibiting a charm that had crossed species barriers many times before this.
It worked its magic again. The Lacu’teveras fluttered her fan and trilled something else at Vena. The audience of courtiers gasped.
“Would it be possible, she asks, for her to touch it?”
SKitty? Dick asked quickly, knowing that she was getting the sense of what was going on from his thoughts.
:Nice,: the cat replied, her attention momentarily distracted from the scurrying hints of movement that were all that could be seen of the kreshta. :Nice lady. Feels good in head, like Dick.:
Feels good in head? he thought, startled.
“I don’t think that there will be any problem, Captain,” Dirk murmured to Singh, deciding that he could worry about it later. “SKitty seems to like the Lacu’un. Maybe they smell right.”
SKitty flowed down off his shoulder and into his arms as he stepped forward to present the cat to the Lacu’teveras. He showed the Lacu’un the cat’s favorite spot to be scratched, under the chin. The long talons sported by all Lacu’un were admirably suited to the job of cat-scratching.
The Lacu’teveras reached forward with one lilac-tipped finger, and hesitantly followed Dick’s example. The Audience Hall was utterly silent as she did so, as if the entire assemblage was holding its breath, waiting for disaster to strike. The courtiers gasped at her temerity when the cat stretched out her neck—then gasped again, this time with delight, as SKitty’s rumbling purr became audible.
SKitty’s eyes were almost completely closed in sensual delight; Dick glanced up to see that the Lacu’teveras’ amber, slit-pupiled eyes were widened with what he judged was an equal delight. She let her other six fingers join the first, tentative one beneath the cat’s chin.
“Such soft—” she said shyly, in musically-accented Standard. “—such nice!”
“Thank you, High Lady,” Dick replied with a smile. “We think so.”
:Verrry nice,: SKitty seconded. :Not head-talk like Dick, but feel good in head, like Dick. Nice lady have kitten soon, too.:
The Lacu’teveras took her hand away with some reluctance, and signed that Dick should return to his place. SKitty slid back up onto his shoulders and started to settle herself.
It was then that everything fell apart.
The next stage in the ceremony called for the rulers to take their seats in their five thrones, and the Captain, Vena, and Grace to assume theirs on stools before the thrones so that each party could present what it wanted out of a possible relationship.
But the Lacu’teveras, her eyes still wistfully on SKitty, was not looking where she placed her hand. And on the armrest of the throne was a kreshta, frozen into an atypical immobility.
The Lacu’teveras put her hand—with all of her weight on it—right on top of the kreshta. The evil-looking thing squealed, squirmed, and bit her as hard as it could.
The Lacu’teveras cried out in pain—the courtiers gasped, the Advisors made warding gestures—and SKitty, roused to sudden and protective rage at this attack by vermin on the nice lady who was with kitten—leapt.
The kreshta saw her coming, and blurred with speed—but it was not fast enough to evade SKitty, gene-tailored product of one of BioTech’s finest labs. Before it could cover even half of the distance between it and safety, SKitty had it. There was a crunch audible all over the Audience Chamber, and the ugly little thing was hanging limp from SKitty’s jaws.
Tail high, in a silence that could have been cut up into bricks and used to build a wall, she carried her prize to the feet of the injured one Lacu’un and laid it there.
:Fix him!: Dick heard in his mind. :Not hurt nice-one-with-kitten!:
The Lacu’ara stepped forward, face rigid, every muscle tense.
Spirits of Space! Dick thought, steeling himself for the worst, that’s bloody well torn it—
But the Lacu’ara, instead of ordering the guards to seize the Terrans, went to one knee and picked up the broken-backed kreshta as if it were a fine jewel.
Then he brandished it over his head while the entire assemblage of Lacu’un burst into cheers—and the Terrans looked at one another in bewilderment.
SKitty preened, accepting the caresses of every Lacu’un that could reach her with the air of one to whom adulation is long due. Whenever an unfortunate kreshta happened to attempt to skitter by, she would turn into a bolt of black lightning, reenacting her kill to the redoubled applause of the Lacu’un.