Rebel Ice (9 page)

What he desired was an end to the monotony. "We would see the tithe that has arrived from the surface. Arrange it."

The notch's face became more wrinkled. "I cannot, Kangal."

Orjakis sat up and put aside his hand mirror to grace the notch with a direct look. "
What
did you say to us?"

"I cannot arrange a viewing, Kangal, as there is no tithe." The notch nodded toward the edge of the city. "Acquisitions reports that those which Kangal does not wish to hear mention of ever again during the Kangal's lifetime have prevented all of the tithe-bearing caravans from reaching the transport lifts."

"Impossible."

The notch said nothing. A slave did not argue with the prince of the city.

"The surface" was as close as he would come to referencing those Iisleg animals.

The notch consulted his recorder. "The Kangal issued such an order." He read out the date and time Orjakis had done so, and added, "Nothing has been sent to the surface since the Kangal's order took effect."

"Then
where
is the
tithe
?" Orjakis shouted.

The notch cringed. "I would theorize that it is still on the surface, Kangal."

Orjakis strode past his slave and out of his chamber. A short corridor led to his private reception room, where more drones and several slaves waited at their posts. A chamber drone darted around him to release an orange-red-tinted spray.

"Janzil Ches Orjakis," the chamber drone announced. "Kangal of Skjonn."

The presentation scent, blended exclusively for each Kangal, eradicated the smell of anyone and anything else in the room. The color of the spray was supposed to be a gracious signal of the Kangal's present mood, but the drone had made the erroneous choice of vigor-orange.

Offended as Orjakis was, it should have been tinted an ombre of purple-dignity and yellow-ire.

"We want all of our advisers in here. Now." He dropped down on the only chair in the room, a throne made of offworlder materials and gemstones. The cushions automatically adjusted themselves to his body, providing the perfect support and comfort.

It took Orjakis's advisers three minutes to report en masse to the reception room. They took their places according to rank and importance and knelt on the floor, heads held in a position roughly equal to the height of Orjakis's knees. Those who had a clear view of his face fixed their gaze there. Those who did not stared into the room's reflecting walls, all of which had been installed at angles to show Orjakis's throne, and were programmed to turn and track his movements if he rose and moved about the room.

When the Kangal was present, no one looked at anyone or anything but the Kangal, or the image of the Kangal. That was law.

Yet even the Kangal had to adhere to certain requirements. "We will hear the daily report from Development."

Development was the only drone adviser within the court, as its work was too important to be trusted to a mere courtier. It rolled forward and halted at the correct, respectful distance from the throne.

"I see Janzil Ches Orjakis, Kangal of Skjonn," the drone said, imitating its living counterparts. "Development reports that all is well within the city, Kangal. Fifteen new works depicting the Kangal's image have been installed in bereft areas. Seven male children born in the last day were given names paying homage to the Kangal's reign. The exterior renderings of the Kangal's wisdom which were wind-damaged have been repaired. All will be well within the city, Kangal."

Seven males born—a good omen, Stagon would have said—and all named to honor Orjakis, even better. He permitted such homage children to possess a second, personal name by which they were to be addressed; otherwise the city would be overrun by hundreds of "Kangal's Tributes" and "Glories to Orjakis."

"I see Janzil Ches Orjakis, Kangal of Skjonn, but I regret that I do not have an answer for the Kangal." Tamor, who had a high, rather feminine voice, swallowed before he stumbled on with, "The rebel blockade—"

"Close your mouth. Return to your place." He turned his head to regard the next ranking adviser. It was unlikely that the man had gone insane, but one never knew for certain with those outside the species. "Provisions, have you disobeyed our orders?"

"I see Janzil Ches Orjakis, Kangal of Skjonn. I have followed the Kangal's orders and stopped all transfer of supplies to the surface, Kangal. As have all the Kangal of all the other skim cities." Magnu, a dwarfish ex-slaver, moved his shoulders back. His habit of squinting as he talked annoyed Orjakis to no end, but it seemed to be a nervous habit that the man could not shake. "Not a crumb has been dispatched, on this I swear."

"That is all that preserves your hide at the moment." Orjakis tapped a fingernail against his teeth as he thought. "Defense, what has been done to eliminate the interference with our tithe?"

Gohliya, the general in charge of Orjakis's army, did not move from his position on the floor. "I see Janzil Ches Orjakis, Kangal of Skjonn. I would ask if I have the Kangal's expressed permission to rise and to continue to speak?"

"Of course you do," Orjakis snapped. "We asked you a question. Answer it."

"Nothing has been done about the interference, Kangal." The old man said it with a queer sort of relish. "The Kangal's last orders regarding the matter were to starve those who have created it into submission."

The general had been an adviser since Orjakis's father had ruled as Kangal of Skjonn. "You knew what was ordered had not restored delivery of the tithe?" Gohliya nodded. "Yet you said nothing to us."

"I was ordered by the Kangal not to speak or rise until the Kangal's displeasure with me had abated." Gohliya removed the long blade at his side and placed it on the inlaid stone floor. The gesture had some sort of ceremonial meaning, one Orjakis could not recall. "I am shown unworthy, and beg the Kangal release me."

The old man wanted to step down; that was why he had laid his blade at his feet. Only Orjakis could grant his request; he could use the sword to dispatch the general, or bestow it on his replacement.

He might indulge the old warmonger, but not until the matter of the tithe was resolved. "You are not released. Pick up your weapon." He waited until Gohliya had obeyed him. "Defense has displeased us. You will do whatever is necessary to restore delivery of our tithe."

Gohliya had the effrontery to break eye contact with him. "That would require we go to war with those who once offered tithe to the Kangal."

The insult was deliberate. Had Gohliya ever once looked away from Orjakis's father, Stagon would have snatched his blade and beheaded the old man on the spot. Orjakis could easily imagine doing the same, this very moment. Then again, a headless man could not lead the army.

It was quite the dilemma.

There were only a handful of dignitaries with enough rank to activate the drone's urgency protocol, so Orjakis rose from the throne. As was proper, shoulders hunched and heads bent to insure that the Kangal stood tallest in the room. It also enabled him to see the drone at the entryway.

To the drone, Orjakis said, "Elaborate."

"Allied League of Worlds Colonel Stuart, Andrew Robert, has arrived and requests a private audience with the Kangal," the drone stated. "Encrypted access to further details has been provided."

An offworlder? No appointments had been made; no ships were in orbit. "Who brought him in?"

"He flew in alone, Kangal."

The few offworlders who knew how to traverse the upper atmosphere piloted slaver ships, yet this male claimed to be a League officer. The League publicly condemned slavery, but select members of its militaries often came to Akkabarr, seeking discreet solutions to personal difficulties.

It could be that this Stuart person worked for one of them.

"Drone, notch, you will stand by and remain. The rest of you, get out." Orjakis sent for proper garments and his headdress before accessing the remaining data the drone carried. "Good. Very good. We will see this man now."

The drone departed and returned with a Terran dressed in the drab brown garments of League military design. The Terran dropped into the formal presentation position without being instructed to do so.

"Rise." Orjakis was pleased to see his new allies had at last briefed their officers on how to show some proper Toskald protocol. He took a moment to admire the Terran, who was tall and fair-haired. Although he was perhaps a little old for Orjakis's personal taste, he possessed the physique of an experienced warrior.

The eyes, too, were incredible.

Such men were as delicious to seduce as they were to bring to heel.
A pity we cannot collar him
. "We are the Kangal of Skjonn. You are the Colonel Andrew Robert Stuart of League Intelligence. Your data and credentials are in order."

Colonel Stuart did not make the common offworlder error of responding to Orjakis's remarks, but waited in silence, his gaze steady.

"You show startling and intimate knowledge of how to behave in the presence of Toskald royalty. We are enchanted." Orjakis gestured to the notch to enable his recorder and returned to the throne. "You may now make your request of us, Colonel Stuart."

The League colonel angled his head up, but not enough to disturb the eye contact between him and Orjakis. "I see Janzil Ches Orjakis, Kangal of Skjonn. I thank the Kangal for providing me with this opportunity to speak in the Kangal's presence," he said in fluent Toskald. "The Allied League of Worlds Intelligence Division has sent me to request permission of the Kangal to search the surface of Akkabarr to locate one of our vessels."

The man could have been a native, lifelong courtier, such was his command of Toskald and proper

"Before I joined the League, I piloted a Garnotan vessel."

So he had worked for slavers. An interesting switch of careers. "You said the League sent one of your ships to our planet?"

"The missing vessel was scheduled to dock at Bharova," the colonel said, referring to a nearby skim city that belonged to one of Orjakis's cousins. "It never arrived."

"Why not make your appeal to the Kangal of Bharova?" Orjakis asked.

"The last registered coordinates show the vessel within Skjonn airspace when it vanished." Stuart produced a datapad. "Simulations indicate it would have crashed in territory belonging to the Kangal of Skjonn."

At last, a show of some ignorance. "Nothing that crashes on the surface survives, Colonel. What is left is immediately scavenged by the things that dwell there. Your efforts are in vain; you will find nothing."

The colonel's eyes seemed to change color from green to a light gray. "My superiors believe that a slave being transported may have survived the crash. It is for this slave that I wish to search."

The absurdity of the request pulled a laugh from Orjakis. "You search for a single slave? What is it? Hsktskt?"

"It is a Terran female. A physician."

"A human woman physician? There are such things?" At this rate, his mirth would never end. "This becomes more intriguing by the moment. Colonel, tell us, what female—physician or otherwise—could possibly merit such an effort?"

"This slave female has knowledge of certain events which, if manipulated by our enemies, could prove damaging to League treaties," the colonel said. "I have been ordered to find her and bring her to Intelligence Headquarters for interrogation and detainment."

"Certain events?"

"The Jado Massacre."

"Ah." Orjakis vaguely remembered the debacle, which had nearly drawn Joren into the League-Faction war. He would not have paid any interest to it if not for the Jorenian involvement. He had only ever owned one himself, a prime male that he had been forced to have put down.

That particular execution had broken Orjakis's heart; none of his other slaves had the physical beauty that one had possessed. Acquisitions should have warned him that, like the Hsktskt, the species was unsuitable for life in bondage. Yet such were the difficulties and deprivations that he endured as Kangal. "We are sympathetic toward our allies, as always, but your slave has doubtless gone the way of your missing vessel."

"My superiors understand that I may not find this slave alive." As he produced a small sack, the colonel's tone remained even and as colorless as his eyes now were. "If I may, the League offers a small return for the Kangal's generous gift of time and patience."

"You offworlders have such bizarre priorities." Orjakis made a languid gesture, and the notch took the The notch emptied the contents of the sack—a dozen large, flawless black diamonds—onto his recorder, and scanned them. He nodded toward Orjakis, silently verifying they were genuine.

Such gems were rare and coveted by many for their beauty and technological value; a single black diamond could purchase one hundred choice slaves. Orjakis found the size of the bribe even more intriguing than the colonel.
Who is this female, and what does she know that compels the League to offer so much simply to look for her
?

Colonel Stuart was not telling him all. He would have to be watched.

"We grant you permission to search on the surface for your missing vessel and slave," he told Stuart, "but you are to go with one of our pilots. A weapons trader who is familiar with conditions in the lower atmosphere and on the surface." He smiled, knowing precisely whom he would send. "To insure your personal safety, of course."

"I would be glad of the escort," the colonel said. "The Kangal's generosity is greatly appreciated."

He watched the Terran's mouth as he spoke, and thought of how it would look above the silver alloy of a slave collar, or filled with something more interesting than diplomatic lies.
What color will his eyes be when I take him
? "We will remind you of this when you return, Colonel. You may take your leave of us now." He extended his hand, palm up.

Stuart hesitated, and then bowed over the Kangal's hand.

Orjakis knew then he would have to die.

Chapter Five

On the day after she found the people, the one called Hurgot gave her a name.