A Knight of Ghosts and Shadows Page 16

  to flesh. The blue-green eyes turned arctic. "Sir Dominic, you were

  right in what you did to Snell. Nobody in that gang was--is--fit to

  live."

  "Well, we're in a war, we and they, the nastier for being undeclared,"

  he said carefully. "What you and I must do, if we can, is keep the

  sickness from infecting your planet. Or to the extent it has, if I may

  continue the metaphor, we've got to supply an antibiotic before the high

  fever takes hold and the eruptions begin."

  His brutal practicality worked as he had hoped, to divert her from both

  sorrow and rage. "What do you plan?" The question held some of the

  crispness which ordinarily was hers.

  "Before leaving Diomedes," he said, "I contacted Lagard's field office

  on Lannach, transmitted a coded message for him to record, and showed

  him my authority to command immediate courier service. The message is

  directly to the Emperor. The code will bypass channels. In summary, it

  says, 'Hold off at Dennitza, no matter what you hear, till I've

  collected full information'--followed by a synopsis of all I've learned

  thus far."

  She began faintly to glow in her exhaustion. "Why, wonderful."

  "M-m-m, not altogether, I'm afraid." Flandry let the telloch savage his

  throat. "Remember, by now his Majesty's barbarian-quelling on the Spican

  frontier. He'll move around a lot. The courier may not track him down

  for a while. Meantime--the Admiralty on Terra may get word which

  provokes it to emergency action, without consulting Emperor or Policy

  Board. It has that right, subject to a later court of inquiry. And I've

  no direct line there. Probably make no difference if I did. Maybe not

  even any difference what I counsel Hans. I'm a lone agent. They could

  easily decide I must be wrong."

  He forced a level look at her. "Or Dennitza could in fact have exploded,

  giving Emperor and Admiralty no choice," he declared. "The Merseians are

  surely working that side of the street too."

  "You hope I--we can get my uncle and the Skupshtina to stay their

  hands?" she asked.

  "Yes," Flandry said. "This is a fast boat. However ... we'll be a month

  in transit, and Aycharaych & Co. have a long jump on us."

  {The resident and his lady made her welcome at Thursday Landing. They

  advised her against taking her research to the Sea of Achan countries.

  Unrest was particularly bad there. Indeed, she and her Merseian--pardon,

  her xenosophont companion--would do best to avoid migratory societies in

  general. Could they not gather sufficient data among the sedentary and

  maritime Diomedeans? Those were more intimate with modern civilization,

  more accustomed to dealing with offworlders, therefore doubtless more

  relevant to the problem which had caused her planetary government to

  send her here.

  Striving to mask her nervousness, she met Commander Maspes and a few

  junior officers of the Imperial Naval Intelligence team that was

  investigating the disturbances. He was polite but curt. His attitude

  evidently influenced the younger men, who must settle for stock words

  and sidelong stares. Yes, Maspes said, it was common knowledge that

  humans were partly responsible for the revolutionary agitation and

  organization on this planet. Most Diomedeans believed they were

  Avalonians, working for Ythri. Some native rebels, caught and

  interrogated, said they had actually been told so by the agents

  themselves. And indeed the Alatanist mystique was a potent recruiter ...

  Yet how could a naive native distinguish one kind of human from another?

  Maybe Ythri was being maligned ... He should say no more at the present

  stage. Had Donna Vymezal had a pleasant journey? What was the news at

  her home?

  Lagard apologized that he must bar her from a wing of the Residency. "A

  team member, his work's confidential and--well, you are a civilian, you

  will be in the outback, and he's a xeno, distinctive appearance--"

  Kossara smiled. "I can dog my hatch," she said; "but since you wish,

  I'll leash my curiosity." She gave the matter scant thought, amidst

  everything else.}

  Flandry greeted her at breakfast: "Dobar yutro, Dama."

  Startled, she asked, "You are learning Serbic?"

  "As fast as operant conditioning, electronics, and the pharmacopoeia can

  cram it into me." He joined her at table. Orange juice shone above the

  cloth. Coffee made the air fragrant. He drank fast. She saw he was

  tired.

  "I wondered why you are so seldom here when off duty," she said.

  "That's the reason."

  He gazed out at the stars. She considered him. After a while, during

  which her pulse accelerated, she said, "No. I mean, if you're studying,

  there is no need. You must know most of us speak Anglic. You need an

  excuse to avoid me."

  It was his turn for surprise. "Eh? Why in cosmos would I that?"

  She drew breath, feeling cheeks, throat, breasts redden. "You think I'm

  embarrassed at what you've learned of me."

  "No--" He swung his look to her. "Yes. Not that I--Well, I try not to,

  and what comes out regardless shows you clean as a ... knife blade--But

  of course you're full of life, you've been in love and--" Abruptly he

  flung his head back and laughed. "Oh, hellflash! I was afraid you would

  make me stammer like a schoolboy."

  "I'm not angry. Haven't you saved me? Aren't you healing me?" She

  gathered resolution. "I did have to think hard, till I saw how nothing

  about me could surprise you."

  "Oh, a lot could. Does." Their eyes met fully.

  "Maybe you can equalize us a little," she said through a rising

  drumbeat. "Tell me of your own past, what you really are under that

  flexmail you always wear." She smiled. "In exchange, I can help you in

  your language lessons, and tell you stories about Dennitza that can't be

  in your records. The time has been lonely for me, Dominic."

  "For us both," he said as though dazed.

  Chives brought in an omelet and fresh-baked bread.

  {From a dealer in Thursday Landing, Kossara rented an aircamper and

  field equipment, bought rations and guidebooks, requested advice. She

  needed information for its own sake as well as for cover. On the long

  voyage here--three changes of passenger-carrying freighter----she had

  absorbed what material on Diomedes the Shkola in Zorkagrad could supply.

  That wasn't much. It could well have been zero if the planet weren't

  unusual enough to be used as an interest-grabbing example in certain

  classes. She learned scraps of astronomy, physics, chemistry, topology,

  meteorology, biology, ethnology, history, economics, politics; she

  acquired a few phrases in several different languages, no real grasp of

  their grammar or semantics; her knowledge was a twig to which she clung

  above the windy chasm of her ignorance about an entire world.

  After a few days getting the feel of conditions, she and Trohdwyr flew

  to Lannach. The resident had not actually forbidden them. In the towns

  along Sagna Bay, they went among the gaunt high dwellings of the winged

  folk, seeking those who understood Anglic and might talk somewhat

&nbs
p; freely. "We are from a planet called Dennitza. We wish to find out how

  to make friends and stay friends with a people who resemble you--"

  Eonan the factor proved helpful. Increasingly, Kossara tried to sound

  him out, and had an idea he was trying to do likewise to her. Whether or

  not he was involved in the subversive movement, he could well fear she

  came from Imperial Intelligence to entrap comrades of his. And yet the

  name "Dennitza" unmistakably excited more than one individual, quick

  though the Diomedeans were to hide that reaction.

  How far Dennitza felt, drowned in alien constellations! At night in

  their camper, she and Trohdwyr would talk long and long about old days

  and future days at home; he would sing his gruff ychan songs to her, and

  she would recite the poems of Simich that he loved: until at last an

  inner peace came to them both, bearing its gift of sleep.}

  Flandry always dressed for dinner. He liked being well turned out; it

  helped create an atmosphere which enhanced his appreciation of the food

  and wine; and Chives would raise polite hell if he didn't. Kossara

  slopped in wearing whatever she'd happened to don when she got out of

  bed. Not to mock her mourning, he settled for the blue tunic, red sash,

  white trousers, and soft half-boots that were a human officer's ordinary

  mess uniform.

  When she entered the saloon in evening garb, he nearly dropped the

  cocktail pitcher. Amidst the subdued elegance around her, she suddenly

  outblazed a great blue star and multitudinously lacy nebula which

  dominated the viewscreen. Burgundy-hued velvyl sheathed each curve of

  her tautness, from low on the bosom to silvery slippers. A necklace of

  jet and turquoise, a bracelet of gold, gleamed against ivory skin.

  Diamond-studded tiara and crystal earrings framed the ruddy hair; but a

  few freckles across the snub nose redeemed that high-cheeked,

  full-mouthed, large-eyed face from queenliness.

  "Nom de Dieu!" he gasped, and there sang through him, Yes, God, Whom the

  believers say made all triumphant beauty. She breaks on me and takes me

  like a wave of sunlit surf. "Woman, that's not fair! You should have

  sent a trumpeter to announce you."

  She chuckled. "I decided it was past time I do Chives the courtesy of

  honoring his cuisine. He fitted me yesterday and promised to exceed

  himself in the galley."

  Flandry shook head and clicked tongue. "Pity I won't be paying his

  dishes much attention." Underneath, he hurt for joy.

  "You will. I know you, Dominic. And I will too." She pirouetted. "This

  gown is lovely, isn't it? Being a woman again--" The air sent him an

  insinuation of her perfume, while it lilted with violins.

  "Then you feel recovered?"

  "Yes." She sobered. "I felt strength coming back, the strength to be

  glad, more and more these past few days." A stride brought her to him.

  He had set the pitcher down. She took both his hands--the touch radiated

  through him--and said gravely: "Oh, I've not forgotten what happened,

  nor what may soon happen. But life is good. I want to celebrate its

  goodness ... with you, who brought me home to it. I can never rightly

  thank you for that, Dominic."

  Nor can I rightly thank you for existing, Kossara. In spite of what she

  had let slip beneath the machine, she remained too mysterious for him to

  hazard kissing her. He took refuge: "Yes, you can. You can throw off

  your frontier steadfastness, foresight, common sense, devotion to

  principle, et cetera, and be frivolous. If you don't know how to frivol,

  watch me. Later you may disapprove to your heart's contempt, but tonight

  let's cast caution to the winds, give three-point-one-four-one-six

  cheers, and speak disrespectfully of the Lesser Magellanic Cloud."

  Laughing, she released him. "Do you truly think we Dennitzans are so

  stiff? I'd call us quite jolly. Wait till you've been to a festival, or

  till I show you how to dance the luka."

  "Why not now? Work up an appetite."

  She shook her head. The tiara flung glitter which he noticed only

  peripherally because of her eyes. "No, I'd rip this dress, or else pop

  out of it like a cork. Our dances are all lively. Some people say they

  have to be."

  "The prospect of watching you demonstrate makes me admit there's

  considerable to be said for an ice age."

  Actually, the summers where she lived were warm. Farther south, the

  Pustinya desert was often hot. A planet is too big, too many-sided for a

  single idea like "glacial era" to encompass.

  Through Flandry passed the facts he had read, a parched obbligato to the

  vividness breathing before him. He would not truly know her till he knew

  the land, sea, sky which had given her to creation; but the data were a

  beginning.

  Zoria was an F8 sun, a third again as luminous as Sol. Dennitza,

  slightly smaller than Terra, orbiting at barely more than Terran

  distance from the primary, should have been warmer--and had been for

  most of its existence. Loss of water through ultraviolet cracking had

  brought about that just half the surface was ocean-covered. This, an

  axial tilt of 32.5°, and an 18.8-hour rotation period led to extremes of

  weather and climate. Basically terrestroid, organisms adapted as they

  evolved in a diversity of environments.

  That stood them in good stead when the catastrophe came. Less than a

  million years ago, a shower of giant meteoroids struck, or perhaps an

  asteroid shattered in the atmosphere. Whirled around the globe by

  enormous forces, the stones cratered dry land--devastated by impact,

  concussion, radiation, fire which followed--cast up dust which dimmed

  the sun for years afterward. Worse were the ocean strikes. The tsunamis

  they raised merely ruined every coast on the planet; life soon returned.

  But the thousands of cubic kilometers of water they evaporated became a

  cloud cover that endured for millennia. The energy balance shifted. Ice

  caps formed at the poles, grew, begot glaciers reaching halfway to the

  equator. Species, genera, families died; fossil beds left hints that

  among them had been a kind starting to make tools. New forms arose,

  winter-hardy in the temperate zones, desperately contentious in the

  tropics.

  Then piece by piece the heavens cleared, sunlight grew brilliant again,

  glaciers melted back. The retreat of the ice that men found when they

  arrived, six hundred years later was a rout. The Great Spring brought

  woes of its own, storms, floods, massive extinctions and migrations to

  overthrow whole ecologies. In her own brief lifespan, Kossara had seen

  coastal towns abandoned before a rising sea.

  Her birth country lay not far inland, though sheltered from northerly

  winds and easterly waters--the Kazan, Cauldron, huge astrobleme on the

  continent Rodna, a bowl filled with woods, farmlands, rivers, at its

  middle Lake Stoyan and the capital Zorkagrad. Her father was voivode of

  Dubina Dolyina province, named for the gorge that the Lyubisha River had

  cut through the ringwall on its way south from the dying snows. Thus she

  grew up child of a lord close to the p
eople he guided, wilderness child

  who was often in town, knowing the stars both as other suns and as elven

  friends to lead her home after dark ...

  Flandry took her arm. "Come, my lady," he said. "Be seated. This evening

  we shall not eat, we shall dine."

  {At last Eonan told Kossara about a person in the mountain community

  Salmenbrok who could give her some useful tidings. If she liked, he

  would take her and Trohdwyr on his gravsled--he didn't trust her vehicle

  in these airs--and introduce them. More he would not yet say. They

  accepted eagerly.

  Aloft he shifted course. "I bespoke one in Salmenbrok because I feared

  spies overhearing," he explained. "The truth is, they are four in a cave

  whom we will visit. I have asked them about you, and they will have you

  as guests while you explore each other's intents."

  She thought in unease that when the Diomedean went back, she and her

  companion would be left flightless, having brought no gravbelts along.

  The ychan got the same realization and growled. She plucked up the nerve

  to shush him and say, "Fine."

  The two men and two women she met were not her kind. Racial types,

  accents, manners, their very gaits belied it. Eonan talked to them and

  her passionately, as if they really were Dennitzans who had come to

  prepare the liberation of his folk. She bided in chill and tension,

  speaking little and nothing to contradict, until he departed. Then she

  turned on them and cried, "What's this about?" Her hand rested on her

  sidearm. Trohdwyr bulked close, ready to attack with pistol, knife,

  tail, foot-claws if they threatened her.

  Steve Johnson smiled, spread empty fingers, and replied, "Of course