Part 2 (2/2)
Picard leaned back, his expression reflective. ”We'll soon find out.”
”LORD STILL-EOSS, you must stand still!”
Ruer Stross, sovereign protector and all-powerful ruler of Thiopa, stewed silently, regarding his own image in a full-length mirror as his valet flitted around him.
”Supo, will you hurry up-was ”Hold your arms up. I've got to see that these sleeves fit just right, or-was ”Or what? Will my arms fall ofl?”
Supo froze. His clenched fists landed firmly on his hips, or where his hips would have been had they been discernible. But his ample belly obscured such anatomical landmarks. Supo was shaped something like an upright sack-head perched on narrow shoulders; girth steadily increasing down his body as if flesh had surrendered to gravity; stubby legs and dainty feet, which stood on their toes most of the time.
Most Thiopans had elegantly sculpted triangular faces with high cheekbones blending into a long chin, large upturned eyes without lashes or brows, and three or four sensory whiskers on either side of the face where many other humanoid races had ears. But ”elegant” was not a word that would come to mind when describing Ruer Stross's domineering valet.
He had a huge beak of a nose, bulging eyes, and whiskers that always seemed to be drooping-except when they were twitching in exasperation. As they were now.
”No, your arms won't fall off, but you could very well be the laughingstock of your own anniversary feast, and then everyone would blame me. They'd say, ”Poor old Supo-blind as a burrowskratt, eh? Can't even dress his master, eh”...”And wouldn't you just love that, making me the most disgraced servant on the planet, in the galaxy, in the universe?”
”All right, all right,” Stross said, smiling placatingly. ”Didn't mean to growl. I just hate spending this much time getting dressed.”
”I know,” Supo said, already back at work, fitting, pulling, snipping, polis.h.i.+ng.
”Don't think I'd be doing this at all but that Ootherai's insisting.”
”I know,” the valet said again. Supo's fingers, the only parts of him that were graceful, fluttered around his master as he made certain that the billowy tunic, with its s.h.i.+ny snaps and rows of medals, was draped perfectly over Stross's barrel-chested body.
Stross puffed out regular breaths through his nose, as if venting steam from an overstoked boiler. His hair and whiskers had long since gone white with age. But his eyes, with the large pearly irises characteristic of Thiopans, were still clear and vibrant.
Supo stepped back with a flourish. ”Done!
Perfect!”
”Good,” Stross said with a sigh. ”Can I take it off now?” ”No! You'll wrinkle it or pop the snaps or lose the medals. 171 take it off you.” The valet delicately released each fastening and slipped the jacket off Stross's shoulders in one smooth motion, then immediately hung it on a dressing form. Stross, meanwhile, shrugged into a pullover robe that came down to his knees.
It was a drab tan, wrinkled and spotted with food stains, but he settled into it like a man released from bondage. He tied a coa.r.s.e length of rope around his waist and pushed the loose sleeves of the robe up to his elbows. One stayed up, the other sagged. He didn't care. ”I'm hungry,” Stross announced.
Supo whirled so quickly he almost toppled the clothing dummy. ”No! No snacks before tonight.
You'll inflate like a gas bird and this uniform will never fit. You eat too much, master. And the only exercise you get is lifting food to your mouth!”
Protector Stross snorted. ”You win, you little tyrant. And that's only because I'm tired of hearing you scream at me. After this feast tonight, I'll eat whatever I d.a.m.n well want.”
”And I”'11 alter all your clothing so you won't have to run around naked,” Supo shot back as he strutted toward the door. It slid open and he left without a look back. ”And I found that brueggen cake you hid in the nightstand, so don't even look for it,” he called from the corridor.
Stross reached out toward the table next to the bed and yanked the drawer out. Empty-I'll bet that little rodent ate it himself.
”Did you lose something, my lord?” Different voice, this one a smoky purr. Stross looked up to see a tall woman shadowed in the foyer of his bedchamber. ”Yeah. Food. Come on in.”
She stepped into the pool of light spilling from an asymmetrical lamp stand whose severe design of black metal and gray gla.s.s echoed the stark austerity of the rest of Stross's furnis.h.i.+ngs. Ayli herself was anything but austere. Honey-colored hair cascaded over her shoulders and framed a face with all the cool beauty of a flawless gem. Her eyes were darker than those of most Thiopans, imparting to even her most casual glance an air of mystery. Her whiskers were starting to turn gray, but that aside, she seemed as youthful as she had on the day she first became Stross's shadowreader over twenty years earlier. Her satiny dress whispered as she walked to an oval table flanked by a pair of straight-backed chairs.
”Is Supo still treating you with his usual lack of respect?” she asked lightly, settling into a chair with prim dignity.
Stross joined her at the table. ”Why should that change? Sometimes I think I should've given him to the Nuarans.”
Ayli regarded her leader with a tolerant smile.
”And who would look after you? Without Supo to see to your outer sh.e.l.l and me to see to your fife-current -”
”You're as arrogant as he is,” Stross said, laughing. ”Don't forget Ootherai.”
Ayli grimaced. ”I hate him,” she said without pa.s.sion.
”I know you do. And although he won't say itbecause he's so much cagier than you are-I know he hates you, too.”
”And you like it that way,” Ayli said. ”It's your a.s.surance that your two most trusted advisers won't plot against you behind your back.”
”There's something to be said for that. I need a shadowreader and I need a policy minister, and I couldn't do better than you and Ootherai. Now, Ayh, I've got a lot to do today,” so let's get to it.”
Ayli lifted the leather case she'd carried in with her and set it gently on the table. When she released the top latch, the hard sides fell away to reveal a collection of tubes and box shapes, all made of finely machined black metal. With a practiced deftness, Ayli unfolded the tubes on their silver hinges and had her apparatus a.s.sembled in a couple of minutes. The device was composed of an eyepiece connected to a kaleidoscopic set of prisms and mirrors enclosed within the cylinders. The main vision tube was girded by four rings, and she used those to adjust the focus as she peered into the device.
Stross, waiting patiently, could see flashes of light and color dancing across her face as the complex optical mechanisms inside the apparatus captured light beams, dismantled them, and rea.s.sembled them in a way that only a handful of mystics like Ayli could use to determine the course of future events.
Shadowreaders had been present throughout Thiopa's history. In ancient times their omens literally changed the course of life on the planet as they advised some leaders to shun wars, others to launch them. As science gained a foothold on Thiopa, before Stross was born, people who wanted to embrace the new ways turned away from the old, and shadowreaders fell on hard times. No respectable government leader would admit to consulting the flickerings of light and dark-though a good many did so in secret.
In the outlying realms, including Thesra where Ruer Stross grew up, a few raggedy shadowreaders still scratched out a meager living by reading omens and foretelling the future for common folk whose lives had yet to be enriched by the new ways of science.
Stross never forgot how much respect his parents had for their local shadowreader, a toothless old man named Onar. And Ruer never forgot it was Onar who'd warned them of the earthquake that swallowed up most of Thesm when he was only ten. Ruer's parents and the others who believed Onar's prediction had escaped barely a day before the quake. But most of the townsfolk thought Onar was just an old fool. They stay. And they died.
By the time Stross led the military revolt that overthrew Protector Cutcheon, Thiopa was well on the way to becoming a modern world. For a boy who'd been born into a village without running water or power, science and technology were like magic.
Ruer Stross didn't understand them, but he wors.h.i.+ped them. To him, they were no different, no better or worse, than the form of magic Onar the shadowreader used to save him and his family from the destruction of Thesra. As far as Stross was concerned, both kinds of magic channeled the natural forces of the universe. 33 If they worked, that was good enough for him. He had plenty of scientists and engineers and technologists, but shadowreaders were hard to find in the new world.
He'd had his agents scour the planet for someone who really had the gift of light and dark. Too many shadowreaders were frauds. A few were genuine, but most of them didn't seem to be very good. It took him twenty years of searching, trying, dismissing, before he found the bewitching young woman named Ayli.
She straightened and looked at him grimly.
”There are many dangers ahead for you, Ruer. Are you sure you want to hear about them?”
”That's what I pay you for. Let's have it.”
Her dark eyes clouded with concern. ”The omens don't carry any answers this time just questions.”
”Well, just knowing the questions has to help. Don't you think?” ”I don't know. I've never seen the shadows so dark before.”
He slapped his palms on the table, making her jump. ”Enough warnings about the warnings, Ayli.
Tell me what you read there.”
Ayli took a deep breath, then spoke. ”For the first time I cannot see you reaching your goal.”
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