Princess of Amathar (11 page)

"Word of your return precedes you, kinsman, though not by much," she said, in a melodic but surprisingly strong voice. "I have just heard the good news, and here you are."

"You are as beautiful as ever, Vena Remontar," replied my friend. He then turned to Malagor and me.

"This is Remiant Vena Remontar, my cousin." He used the word for mother's sister's daughter.

"I am soon to be related to you in other ways as well," the young woman said. "I have agreed to let Tular Maximinos announce our intention to marry."

"I am glad to hear it," replied Norar Remontar, "though I happen to know you both well enough to know that he is not nearly good enough for you. And I say this only half in jest." Gazing upon the young woman, I had to agree with the prince, at least as far as the external was concerned, for the lady was exceedingly beautiful, so like her cousin, Noriandara Remontar. As I thought this, I began to feel a sadness deep inside my chest, and I once again felt the longing for the woman that I had seen only once in my life. I felt anger, frustration, and pain working its way up from my insides, clawing into my throat, until I was suddenly brought back to the present by my introduction to Vena Remontar, and Malagor's as well. The lady gave us the appropriate acknowledgment for her social inferiors--a polite nod of the head.

"We shall go directly to my house," said Norar Remontar. "I hope that you and your betrothed come along later, for I have a service for you to perform."

The female knight looked intrigued.

"Indeed, kinsman," she replied. "I shall make a point of it." Bentar Hissendar appeared at our sides.

"Tular Maximinos and I have some work to complete here at the airfield," he said to Norar Remontar.

"Your family should receive the word that you are safe well before your arrival. Why don't you go home and see them."

"I intend to do just that," he replied, and started toward an exit at the opposite end of the building, indicating with a brief gesture that Malagor and I should accompany him. I turned to look back at the female knight, but she had already resumed her post, guarding the terminal. We walked out the front door of the terminal building, and found ourselves in a broad avenue. Lining the sides were buildings, large and small, painted in a variety of quiet pastel colors. In front of the buildings were large planters full of lovely flowers, and some with potted trees. There were no ground vehicles running in the street. In fact, there was no place for any such vehicles to run. Instead of a straight pavement like one would find on an earthly city street, there was a winding path made of something like cobblestone, making its way around small ponds, fountains, and life-sized statues. We walked down the avenue for about a mile, encountering very few people. Those Amatharians that we did see were hurrying along on their own business. Most glanced at us with polite curiosity. A few nodded to us in casual greeting. We reached the end of the avenue, which opened into a broad intersection. The street running perpendicular to ours was wider and busier. Though it was lined with fountains, statues, and flower beds, the cobblestone path had been replaced by a pair of moving walkways, one going in each direction. We turned right and stepped onto the walkway, which was going about five miles per hour.

Once on the beltway, we continued to walk. I thought of the escalators on my home world, and looked around to make comparisons. No one on the Amatharian street stood on the belt and let themselves be carried. Every citizen I could see used the moving beltway to supplement the power of his own legs. We continued along until we came to another intersection. The walkway ended in a small plaza, and continued with another belt on the other side. The cross street this time was an even larger thoroughfare. Instead of a single moving walkway going in each direction, this street had two, the outer going at the same speed that the single beltway had moved, and the inner one going about twice as fast. A passenger would be able to go from a standstill to the outer belt, and then step from the outer belt to the inner, effectively tripling his walking speed.

"Are either of you hungry?" asked Norar Remontar.

"Yes," replied Malagor, just before I was able to reply in the affirmative. The small meal we had eaten at the site of our rescue had long since been used up.

On one corner of the intersection plaza, was a small restaurant. It looked like a cafe one would find in New York or Paris. There were about ten tables, each with chairs, set up in a partitioned area on the corner, at an entrance to the building behind, from which several servers carried plates of food to seated patrons. The Amatharian knight led the way, and the three of us sat at a table near the edge of the restaurant. Moments later a boy, whom on Earth I would have thought to be about fourteen, arrived to set a metal cup of iced water in front of each of us. He bowed low to Norar Remontar, and then waited expectantly.

"Bring the daily special for all of us," directed Norar Remontar. The boy nodded, and then asked. "Sun clan?"

"Of course."

"The value of our food will be reported back to the Sun Clan by the Air Clan, who owns this market," explained Norar Remontar.

"What type of currency do Amatharians use for trading goods and services?" I wondered.

"The rur is the measure of productivity and value," he replied, "though this is used only for transfer of value from one clan to another, or when trading goods with other cultures. We do not need currency among individuals, though I understand that there are other peoples of Ecos who use it. Our clan provides everything that we need.

"Don't you need to value each individual's contribution to the clan?"

"Each contributes to the best of his ability. To do otherwise would bring disgrace upon himself, his family, and his clan. The young man serving our food does so to the best of his ability, because to do so honors all. I fulfill my duties to the best of my ability. Because I am a knight, and he is a food server, my contributions are more highly regarded, and I have a more important place in my clan than he in his. Of course, he is still young."

The server brought our dinner and we occupied ourselves eating. The main course was a large piece of meat, a light brown in color and similar to pork in flavor. It had been grilled over open fire. Beside the meat were three vegetables--the first of which looked like peanuts, but had the consistency and flavor of yams, the second looking and tasting just like carrots, and the third looking and feeling like a giant prune, but possessing the unfortunate taste of a beet. Each vegetable was cooked in its own set of spices and seasoning, and each was delicious, except for the prune-beet thing.

While we were eating, I looked around at the other diners. The little restaurant seemed to be about half full. A young Amatharian couple sat across from us looking into each other's eyes. Both were wearing the black bodysuit-tabard combination of a warrior, though neither sported the crest of knighthood. There was a group of four men in green bodysuits, which indicated they were farmers. Finally, there was an older Amatharian man wearing a long robe of gold with a small crest above the heart, depicting a cloud with a sword through it. Across from him was a being unlike I had ever seen. It stood beside the table, rather than sitting in a chair. It had to because it had four legs, and was built rather like a deer or a goat. From its shoulders sprouted an extra set of limbs, with which it manipulated its food, and its face looked like the head of an iguana painted deep blue. The coloring faded slightly down its neck and its body to a light blue on its legs.

"What kind of thing is that?" I wondered.

"That is a Preemor," said Malagor testily. "I suppose you would refer to me as a "thing."

"That is the leader of the Bestamor Trading Group," Norar Remontar informed us. "I gather that he is concluding a trade agreement with the Preemor."

"It's just that I didn't expect to see any non-Amatharians within the city."

"I would imagine that at any one time," said the knight, "there are between one and two million non-Amatharians, as you term them."

Just as we were finishing our food, the young server brought out three stoneware mugs filled with a dark ruby liquid.

"This is mirrah," explained Norar Remontar. "It is the traditional drink of warriors, a blend of fermented juices."

I sipped the concoction carefully. It was sweet and thick, and reminded me of a mixture of apple juice, prune juice, and honey. For a moment I wondered that the traditional drink of warriors would be so tame, and then I felt the kick. Suddenly my heart raced, my head pounded, and I had a great desire to run a long distance very fast. Looking into the cup, I confirmed that I had drunk only the top half inch of the liquid. I imagined that if I had downed the cup at once, I would have quite happily taken on an entire Zoasian battleship on my own.

"Perhaps we should have tasted this before dinner," suggested Malagor.

"If we had," explained the knight, "you would never have enjoyed the meal." We stood up, and following the Amatharian's example, thanked our server, then continued on our way. We did not take the larger of the two roadways, but continued on our original course for another two blocks. Here we entered a large building, and took an escalator down to a level below the surface of the street. Here we found what could only be described as a subway station. It was not quite like the subway stations I had seen on earth. There were no turnstiles, ticket windows, sleeping vagrants, or discarded trash. There were no wandering policemen, though there was a single Amatharian knight standing near the edge of the waiting platform. The entire place resembled more the lobby of an expensive hotel, than a transport hub. Everything was lit brightly by artificial light. We waited only a very short time, at least from my perspective, before the subway ran into the station. The train, if one may refer to it as such, had no engine that I could see--just six cars, one behind the other. Each car was cylindrical in shape, with two oval openings. When the procession had come to a complete halt, the doors opened, and we, along with four or five others who had been waiting entered. Norar Remontar, Malagor, and I had a car all to ourselves.

Just as the station was atypical of what I would expect of public transportation, so too was the train car. It was furnished more like a living room, or a comfortable den, than a public transportation system. There was a piece of furniture very much like a sofa, a small table in front of it, and a several very comfortable chairs. The sofa and chairs were covered with material that was patterned after animal skins, though it appeared to be man-made. Most surprising of all, there was a large bookcase against the back wall, filled with books. I stepped over to the small library once the subway had started into motion, and pulled one of the books from its place.

The book was very much like the book of Amath’s teachings which Norar Remontar had previously shown me. It was a bound volume with a spine, and it had a cover made of leather. The pages were made of a material something like plastic. They were thin and they could bend like paper, but they had a strength far beyond any paper product. The entire book was written in Amatharian, which of course I was unable to read, but the lines and letters seemed to be laid out in a familiar fashion. As I had noticed, the characters resembling simple line drawings of stylized animals and other almost familiar images. After staring at it for a moment, I almost thought that I could see tiny predators ready to pounce upon their prey.

"Is this a private transport car?" I asked, replacing the book.

"This shuttle train belongs to the air clan," Norar Remontar replied, "though they make it available to anyone who needs transportation."

"I am surprised that it doesn't become damaged, or that the books and other furnishing aren't stolen," I said, noticing several small art objects atop the table, and hanging on the walls.

"Why would some one take something that wasn't his?" the Amatharian wondered. "Of course there is a great deal of wear because of the number of people who travel on the train. That is why we must all take extra care, to see that this property of others is not needlessly damaged." I looked, but couldn't find any more wear and tear than one would find in the average living room. Just about that time, the shuttle train came to a stop. It had been a nice quiet ride, though the sensation of movement had constantly reminded us that we were not in a private home, despite the look of the interior. The doors slid open and the three of us stepped out. This train station was very similar to the one which we had left, though decorated in a different color scheme. Like the other, there were no ticket windows, no advertising posters, no street musicians, and no pan-handlers. We went up another escalator and stepped out once again into the warm Ecosian sun. The street we now stood in was like the one we had traveled before, with one exception--people. Huge throngs of Amatharians were making their way up and down the street, walking, either along side of, or on the three moving walkways going in each direction. The street was filled with the colors of Amatharian clothing, as I looked around to identify doctors, record keepers, biologists, food servers, archaeologists, and the ever present soldiers. Once more, Norar Remontar led the way, as we moved up the busy avenue. We moved quite slowly because of the abundance of foot traffic, and this afforded me an opportunity to closely examine the architecture. This section of the city was dominated by very large buildings, large enough to be considered skyscrapers, if one were so inclined to those types of names. Some were over one hundred stories tall, though many were considerably shorter as well. Most were quite broad, completely filling a city block. Just like the edge of the city, structures here were painted in a variety of pastel colors, and were trimmed with silver colored metal. Though truly unearthly in design, all possessed a simple beauty that I always thought lacking in modern buildings on Earth. While the sides were generally flat and unadorned, the corners usually featured an intricate design. And ledges were common every few stories.