Ammonite Stars (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #4-5 (14 page)

“He must know that I would never have taken him as my consort, even if I hadn’t had the children with Six.”

“I think he still believes that you will change your mind. He believes that you will repudiate your current consort.”

“Well he is wrong! And even if I did, I would never take him as an alternative!”

Her mother sighed. “At least he is a meritocrat.”

Diva looked angry. “I don’t care if he is the ruler of Lumina, I will not now – or ever – consider a union with Tartalus. He is opinionated, overbearing and inordinately pleased with himself.” She looked at Six. “And I don’t think you should talk like that in front of Six.”

Indomita inclined her head, and stood aside to let them go out. “As you wish.”

SIX HAD NEVER been more bored in his life. He had seventeen luxurious rooms all to himself, and hated every one of them. In the short time since Diva had left him in the consort’s palace he had already explored his plush chambers as much as he wanted to. He would rather have been in a shack on Kwaide in the cold season. He had his own guards on each door, but was uncertain whether they were there to keep others out or him in. The place felt much more like a prison than a palace, and he wondered how long he would be able to put up with it. As far as he could tell, the only thing available as any kind of entertainment was the enormous gold-plated sunken bathtub, which had already been filled with Mesteta wine. He glared down at it, and dipped one toe into the surface of the dark liquid. It was – naturally – at a perfect temperature. He gave a snort. No wonder the people here were always plotting about politics. There was precious little else to do, except soak your hide in good alcohol. He shook his head. This was not the kind of place a Kwaidian untouchable could ever get used to. He withdrew his toe with a grimace. It was hard to believe that men actually used these things too.

A slight noise behind him made him spin around. A thin, beautifully dressed woman had come into the chamber. She bowed, almost to the floor.

“Is there anything you require, my lord?”

“Who are you?”

“I am your Lady of Chamber, my lord. My name is Namiba.”

Six stared at her.

She must have decided that he was waiting for more information, for she went on. “I am the head of your staff. There is your male companion, seventeen interior staff including myself, nineteen guards assigned to you, and five gardeners, my lord.”

She wondered if he had understood her, for he was still staring at her with a stunned expression on his face. “How may I help you, my lord?”

Six shook his head. “Don’t call me ‘my lord’.”

“No, my lord. How should I address your lordship?”

“Hang it, how should I … you may call me Six.”

“That would be inappropriate, my lord.”

“Then call me
Valhai
Six, if you absolutely must.”

“As you wish,
Valhai
Six. Do you require anything?”

“Can I go out?”

“Out,
Valhai
Six? Of course. Where do you wish to go?”

“I don’t know. How about Mesteta?”

She bowed. “I will inform your male companion, and eight of the guards. When were you wishing to leave?”

“—Now?”

“As you wish,
Valhai
Six.” The woman stepped out of the chamber backwards, and disappeared. Six found himself staring at the entrance.

As soon as he was in Mesteta, Six began to feel much better. Despite having an entourage of nine, at least he was away from the cloying atmosphere of the palace. He found that he could speak quite easily with his companion, although none of the eight guards replied to any of his social comments. That, it seemed, was the companion’s job, and they followed their job descriptions to the letter.

He chatted about Coriolis to his companion, a man in his thirties who asked to be called Bennel. Within a few moments, Six knew that the best place to go in Mesteta was the ‘Widowmaker’. He grinned. With a name like that, it
had
to be worth seeing! Bennel seemed quite eager too. Despite his age, he had never ventured through the doors, it seemed. He told Six that such places were reserved for the upper echelons of the meritocracy and their companions.

When they finally arrived at a long, low building from which emanated a deafening amount of sound, Bennel signed to the guards to remain outside. It seemed that the Widowmaker, despite its name, was considered a safe spot for the young bloods of Coriolis. Bennel led Six through the double doors, past an imposing individual who stepped reluctantly aside to let them through, and into a den of dark and raucous carousing. Six thought he must be in heaven.

“Wow! There isn’t anything like this on Kwaide. And there certainly isn’t on Valhai or Xiantha!” He stared appreciatively into the darkness, which was punctured by flashing lights that seared his eyes, and gave a whistle. “I should have brought Diva.”

Bennel gave him a strange look, which Six didn’t see, since he was too busy examining the scene in front of him in more detail. Together, they worked their way through to the long bar, and ordered a couple of potent drinks. A slim girl wended her way through the crowd, and looked admiringly up into Six’s face.

“You must be a warrior from Kwaide,” she said.

Six looked down at her and smiled. Then he gave a sigh. He had to admit this Coriolan in front of him was a remarkably pretty girl, but neither she nor anybody else could hold a candle to Diva. He rather wished that weren’t the case, but he shook his head at the girl, and she melted back into the shadows.

Bennel seemed to have no such problem. He was already enjoying himself talking to another very comely girl, and was exchanging confidences with her, his lips placed suggestively close to her ear. From the expression on the girl’s face, she was not averse to his suggestions. Six gave another sigh, and then looked away. He found himself lazily looking around the Widowmaker, his eyes getting used to the dark interspersed with brilliant lighting flashes, and his brain becoming more and more adept at translating those impulses into a reliable picture.

He must have spent about fifteen minutes like that, sipping at his drink and enjoying the bombardment on his senses, when he suddenly stiffened. His background told him that there was something furtive about the young figure that was dipping down towards the pockets of one of the functionaries in a large party at one table. The way that a thin arm snaked downwards was unmistakable. As he watched, he caught a second figure doing much the same.

Six checked that his own few Mesteta coins were safely ensconced inside the clothes he was wearing, and then settled back comfortably against the bar to watch the robbery as it took place. He was not exactly in favour of stealing, but a part of him had to acknowledge that the voluminous and complacently successful figures seated at the table looked as if they could easily afford to lose what loose change and adornments they had brought with them.

He frowned. The two thieves were clearly not very experienced. Either that or they were in dire need. Instead of fading back discreetly into the crowd after abstracting one item, they were moving in for a second attack. He found himself silently telling them to make good their escape, not to be so foolhardy. They were simply asking to be caught! Fascinated by the scene unfolding, his drink left untouched on the bar, Six found himself holding his breath as he saw a thin arm reach down again, this time into an ample carrysack. He saw the flash of metal as an object was removed slowly, and then spotted the moment when that same object was passed over to the second figure. Now both thieves were tensing and turning, ready to make their getaway.

But they had tempted fate too far. A burly figure had appeared between the two of them, and they were suddenly hanging limply several feet off the ground, suspended by the scruffs of their thin necks.

The table erupted into motion, although with the noise in the Widowmaker Six was unable to hear what they said. The ample meritocrats were checking their pockets, their carrysacks, their wrists and their clothes. Gesticulations showed their indignation clearly across the room. Six grinned. He had little sympathy for them.

Suddenly he realized that he was himself – for these two thieves at least – one of the meritocrats. That really amused him. It was the first time in his life that he could have been taken as a person worth robbing. The laugh he gave made Bennel raise his head and look suspiciously at him. Six grinned again. “Nothing. Forget it. I was just realizing that I don’t exactly fit in here.”

Bennel looked confused, paused to check that his assignment was not in any trouble, and then turned his attention back to the girl beside him. He should have checked better, because he missed the gathering frown on Six’s face as he saw that the burly law enforcer was showing no signs of putting the two thieves down on the floor. They were slowly choking on their own clothes, hanging limply down from arms like tree-trunks, and twisting slightly against the flashing lights which regularly lit up the scene.

Six muttered an imprecation, and moved seamlessly across the large chamber.

“Put them down,” he told the law enforcer quietly, his Kwaidian shoulders rigid, his stance a warning in itself.

The immense figure peered down at him, and shook a stolid head.

“You are choking them,” repeated Six. “Put them on the floor. You don’t have to let go of them.”

“Why should I do what you want, Foreigner?” sneered the lawman.

“Because,” replied Six, “if you don’t I shall be forced to pull out my kris and slice some of that nice beef off your arm.”

The lawman gave a low moan of anger, put both thieves into one hand, which lowered through the extra weight and enabled them to touch the ground. Two mouths opened automatically and started to gasp in air.

With the other hand, the lawman pulled out a Coriolan dagger, and took a step forwards.

Six took his stance almost eagerly, and was ready to move in when he felt the touch of somebody thrusting him out of the way. Bennel had realized belatedly what was going on, and had interposed his body between Six and the lawman, at the same time pushing a button attached to the collar of his robe.

Six glared, but his expression was lost in the dark. Then the eight guards who had been waiting outside were surrounding both him and Bennel, and the lawman had fallen back. Six glared again, and tried to take another step towards the lawman, but his own guards impeded this.

“Let me through, will you!” He pushed against them, to no avail.

Bennel caught his sleeve. “
Valhai
Six, we must leave. You should not have threatened the authorities here in Mesteta. We must take you back to the palace now. Otherwise you will be thrown into jail along with these two thieves.”

Six looked at the two culprits. He now made out a boy and a girl, very similar in features. They were only young, he saw. Hardly more than children. Perhaps about twelve or thirteen.

“What will happen to them?” he asked. He could see from their faces that they were frozen in panic at being caught, and it seemed to him that he could see absolute desolation on the boy’s face too.

“You shouldn’t worry about that,
Valhai
Six. We have our own methods of punishment here on Coriolis.”

Six sheathed his kris, but put his chin forwards. “Yes. I have heard of them. You entomb thieves in rexelene blocks and then put them in a museum.”

Bennel looked pleased. “I see you have been studying our culture,” he said.

“Culture? Is that what you call it?” Six indicated the two thieves, who were now breathing almost normally, and looking at their saviour with resentful eyes which pleaded at the same time. “Is that what will happen to these two?”

“Oh yes, you needn’t worry. All thieves are placed in the rexelene. We believe in making an example of them.”

“But they are just children.”

“The worst type of thief. They try to prey on your sympathy. Terrible.”

“Why are they here? Why do they need to steal?”

Bennel shrugged. “There are some clans who refuse to enter the system.” He shook his head. “I am sorry you should have been exposed to them. Let me escort you home, and you can forget all about this … unfortunate episode.”

He didn’t know Six very well, but even Bennel was able to tell that he had made an error of judgement. “Err … that is …” He stepped back hastily, faced with the blaze of some strong emotion which had lit up Six’s eyes. “I … err … I assumed that …”

“You assumed wrong,” Six told him tersely. “Tell him to let them go.”