CHAPTER TWO
| AKKI: A STELLAR TAIL CHAPTER TWO |
The streets of Ursula were deserted at this time of night, except for the insomniacs or the social deviants -- and us. The buildings and ground glistened from the recent thundershower. Ursula got over 250 centimeters of rain annually, so frequent rain was to be expected. We had walked about two kilometers when I felt a small plink on my nose, looked up, and got one in the eye as well. Without further enticement, I bolted for the nearest cover, a small shed-like structure about thirty meters distant. Kyrene followed closely behind. Though we couldn't have taken more than a second or two to reach cover, the rain was faster. Dripping from paw to head, I gave Kyrene benefit of one of my slit-eyed glares. (I don't know why you insisted on walking from the terminal, Kyrene. Surely our sightseeing could have waited till daylight.) "Oh, don't be a Fulkrian Vals. I just got the timing messed up a little," she huffed. "I never claimed to be a weather forecaster." (Thank goodness.) I peered out into the gloom and saw that it didn't show signs of easing any time soon. (Let's just get to the hotel, dry off, and get some food. Everything will be alright then.) No answer. (Kyrene?) She pushed her toe against the wall. "I forgot to mention that we can't go to our hotel yet." I allowed myself to laugh heartily at her little joke. How like Kyrene to tease. She grinned at me in the near darkness. "I'm glad you're not mad, Akki. I messed up on our arrival timing. Our rooms won't be available until mid-morning." My laugh trailed off into a gurgle. Kyrene wasn't kidding. We really had no place to go. Wonderful. Our first night in paradise, spent soaking wet and wandering the streets like a pair of delinquents. A cool rivulet trickled from my brow to the tip of my nose to land with moist plops on my left foot. The landing cot didn't seem so bad any more. "Anyway," Kyrene continued conversationally, "We'll really get a feel for the place this way. See the real Ursula." I poked my head out of the shed door for an instant, saw nothing but a thick swathe of water, and pulled it back inside. If this was the real Ursula, I'd rather be in space. I told Kyrene so. To my indignation, she laughed. "You really are getting to be no fun, Akki. Whatever happened to the Akki I used to know. We used to have some great adventures." (It slithered back into its cold, dark cave,) I retorted, remembering some of the stunts Kyrene called adventures, into which I was dutifully drawn during the younger days of our acquaintance. I shook my head. How we ever came out of her adolescence alive, I'll never know. Certainly Kyrene is a wonderful person -- I really wouldn't have had anyone else as my Achate -- but she had this strange need for risk-taking. Perhaps it stemmed from her childhood, from which she was still rebelling at age twenty-three. I don't know. I only met Kyrene after she reached age fourteen, and from what I heard her earlier years sounded pretty normal. Kyrene grew up as the only daughter of Lars and Christina Fairstar. Lars was the wealthiest man on Achatar and Christina was the second child of Achatar's Head Councilman. Now that's pretty good stock to come from and Kyrene showed it. She had an intuitive grace and was always a top student -- when she wanted to be, of course. Kyrene got the best of everything, including training in the arts of diplomatic bearing and spacemanship. Because of her parents, she was fortunate enough to partake in the musidance lessons that now provided her livelihood. Not many knew the craft of musidance, whereby the steps themselves actually caused the music to play. I wouldn't attempt to explain the physics, but suffice it to say that the dancer's slightest movements were sensed by the Khalimar and thereby transformed into melody. If she were sad, the Khalimar emphasized slow, soft strings. If she were excited, playful runs of flute and clarinet fluttered out. The Khalimar, a small box, black, ten centimeters on a side and not heavy, was the sole piece of equipment for her act. Without it, Kyrene's dance would still have been lovely to watch, but with it, the dance was mesmerizing. She carried it in her hand now, as she always did, protectively. To replace the Khalimar was outside the present budget. Occasionally, I admit I wished the little black box would meet with an unfortunate accident, forcing us to return to Achatar. Ah, home. But then, I would see the glow in Kyrene's face after a dance and the notion would fizzle. Kyrene had been invited to Thalir by its Head Councilman to perform at their Festival of Life, an event that occurred only once every twenty-five years. This was quite an honor, since Pilar Val'pri was the most respected Head Councilman in the system. Kyrene considered the event especially wonderful because she felt she had earned it on her own merit as a premier musidancer, not because she was a Fairstar. "I think it's stopped," Kyrene said. I looked outside again and it was true. Then I saw a sliver of lightness on the western horizon. (The sunrise.) "You're right. Let's go to the hotel and get some food. By the time we finish eating, it should be late enough to check into our room." That sounded good to me. I led the way, trotting out the door and down the street. A little warily, I peeked at the sky above. It still had that grey, freshly stroked watercolor, almost rain, look. I trotted a little faster. Now don't get me wrong, it's not as if I have a phobia against water. I just don't like it and I have a perfectly good reason. When I was a small child -- much more appropriate than "puppy" -- some people thought it would be cute to throw me into this huge lake to sink or swim. They called it an experiment in survival, saying that of course I would swim, that everybody instinctively knows how to swim. Well, I didn't. It's like reading a math text that says that everything is intuitively obvious as they go from step "B" to step "Q" without giving any explanations. Anyway, four minutes later, the experimenters retrieved my small, shivering body from the muddy bottom and applied resuscitation. "Slow down, Akki. It's not going to rain again. Look, the clouds are breaking up." Reluctantly, I slowed my pace and glanced up to where Kyrene was pointing. Then I relaxed. She was right. They were breaking up. I matched my stride to hers and for the first time really saw the city sights around me. With the coming of the morning sun, Ursula twittered softly like a nest of birds awakening. I cocked my ear and slowed down some more. Then my nose caught a whiff of something exquisite. Kyrene nodded. "I smell it too. Mmm. What do you say we stop for a bite and then go to the hotel?" My stomach answered her with a growl. I had just remembered that I hadn't eaten in a while. "Look, this place is open already." She pointed to a sign.
(Looks great to me.) My stomach echoed my approval. The restaurant was deserted when we entered. We saw several small tables set at random on the floor and Kyrene picked one near the window so we could continue watching the street. Kyrene chose a chair, I the floor. At home I sat in a chair at the table, but most people on planets other than Achatar seemed to be uncomfortable with that and I really was too hungry to raise a fuss about it now. Besides, this seemed like a clean place and the floor smelled okay.
Kyrene laid the Khalimar on the table, and then looked around. Almost instantly, a tiny man, not much more than a meter and a third in height, popped out of a doorway at the rear of the room and bounced toward us. He handed Kyrene a menu and winked at me. Not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to offend the man lest this be a traditional Thalirian greeting, I winked back.
(Kyrene. Wink at him. I think it's a Thalirian custom.)
I must have been right about it being a custom, because after she did so, the man grinned and nodded approvingly. "You will be having breakfast?"
"Yes, we will," Kyrene said, smiling. She ordered for both of us and the man winked again. He rubbed his hands together and left for the back of the room.
(What's with him?) I asked, watching him bob away.
"What do you mean? He's just being friendly."
(I suppose so.) I settled to a comfortable sitting position and watched the street outside. Gaea was rising now and lent a pinkish cast to everything. Already the rain-wet streets were drying.
"Your meals," the man said, appearing suddenly. He served us from a laden tray and my mouth did a Pavlov when he placed my plate in front of me. The most delicious odor called to me with a siren's voice, but like a gentleman I waited until he was finished serving Kyrene.
"Will there be anything else?"
"No, thank you, that will be all for now."
"That will be all for now?" the man repeated, his eyes sly and clever. He was a strange one alright.
"Yes. That will be everything."
"Everything," he said, clapping his hands.
(I think we'd better just eat and get out of here, Kyrene. The man's a nutcase.)
Kyrene placed a hand on my neck and smiled to the man, who after nodding significantly, trotted out of the room.
"I tend to agree with you," Kyrene whispered between mouthfuls. We finished our meals rapidly, and I'll have to admit that although the man behaved with the sanity of a schizo, he certainly knew how to cook.
"What's this?" Kyrene said suddenly, pulling a small white envelope from under her plate.
(It looks like a note,) I answered.
"I can see that. How strange. It's written in Galactic Intricate. Let me see. I haven't done GalInt in awhile. It says. 'Change in plans. Keep jewels until the Grand Ball. More information on transfer later. Royally Yours, P.'"
(Kyrene. Put the note into the envelope and pretend you never saw it.)
"But why --"
(Because I don't want to get involved with another crime syndicate, that's why.)
"Why do you think it's a crime syndicate? Why can't it be a legit business arrangement?"
(Even so, the note obviously wasn't meant for us to read.)
"I guess so." She reluctantly slid the note back into its envelope, but before she could tuck it under the plate again, the little man popped out of the kitchen. She hissed,"Okay, smarty. Now what do I do?"
(Tell him you found this note and couldn't read it.)
"He's not going to believe that -- oh, hello."
"I have your bill if you are ready to pay. Three coppers."
Kyrene counted out the money and after handing it to him took a deep breath.
"Sir, er, I found this note under the plate and I can't read it. It seems to be in Galactic Intricate, and I never did make it that far in school. I think the note must be for someone else."
The man's eyes narrowed briefly while Kyrene was speaking, but then his teeth appeared white and sparkling in a row and I wondered if I had even seen the scowl. This was certainly not a mean face. To my continued bafflement, he winked at both of us again.
"Of course. I am sorry for the trouble it might have caused you." Kyrene handed him the note, winking back, and I could have sworn he chuckled and said under his breath, "The young ones must always feel independent." But it made no sense, so I assumed myself to be mistaken. Nevertheless, tiny little shivers were coursing up my spine like little frozen pinches, telling me that things were not quite what they seemed in this sunny little cafe. Rarely does my spine lie, but neither does it divulge the reasons for its little performances.
(Kyrene, let's get out of here.)
She nodded and we left. My last memory of the Daybreak was the sight of that bobbing little man grinning in the window. I would have liked to put him in the landing cot.
Once we got back out into the streets again I felt the grey apprehension lift and the whole scene in the cafe mist away as if it were only part of a dream. I relaxed and began to enjoy myself. While we had been eating, the city had awakened. The little twitters of early dawn had evolved into the full grown honks of a flight of water fowl. Gaea shone in full glory about halfway up the western horizon and puffy cumulus clouds had replaced the grey overcast. The remnants of the night's storms had gathered thickly over the ridges of the Janama Range, blocking their thrusting peaks from view. We continued to walk westward into the sun with the Janamas rising on our left. To the right, the north, the city tumbled like a child's toy blocks, colorful and jumbled, down to the rounded curve of a tidy harbor. Since most of Ursula was perched on the side of the Janama mountains, the air was cool and refreshing despite the proximity of Gaea. Thalir, the fourth planet in the system, was 70 million kilometers closer than Achatar, the sixth planet, and was legendary for its warm climate.
Just now in downtown Ursula people were stirring, with shopkeepers lifting bright colored sunshades over their windows, children scurrying off to school, and the occasional tourist, like us, doing some early wandering. One of the latter, who bore the closed, guarded expression of a Halifaxian, walked slowly and parallel to us on the other side of the street. This one could have been a spy, I mused, the way his glance darted back and forth and the way he kept hunched over as if he didn't want to be seen.
Good Grief. I was starting to think like Kyrene. I chided myself and focused on the architecture. Out of a high arched window, a bit of paper fluttered down to lay feather soft at my paws. It was blank. Kyrene eagerly picked it up, but after seeing that there was no message on it, crammed the thing into her pocket in disgust.
(You didn't think that was another note did you?) I asked, laughing.
Kyrene's lower lip protruded slightly. "No, did you?"
(Of course not.) At least not after I'd seen it was blank, but I wouldn't tell her that. (Come on, Kyrene. The note in the restaurant couldn't possibly have been meant for us.)
"I know that. It's just --"
(Just what?) We slowed our steps and I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the man across the street had decided at that same moment to stop in front of the shop opposite to us.
"Just that something is going on here, Akki. I feel it."
(You're taking this all too seriously, Kyrene.)
"Oh? Then tell me why a Halifaxian is following us. No! Don't look at him!"
I lidded my eyes. At the word Halifaxian I had done the obvious thing and stared right at the man opposite us. He was gazing raptly into a window.
(He's just a tourist.)
"Why would a person from Halifax come here?" Kyrene demanded. "They aren't known for their congeniality, you know. I hardly think he's here for the Festival."
(Why do you say that?) I was hedging, because she was probably right. People from Gaea's most distant planet rarely came to the inner planets.
"Because their religion is against the Festival of Life. I read that Halifaxians worship Death. Their whole lives are spent waiting to die."
I shivered. (They sound like a happy group.)
"Right. Look, he's moving. No, Don't look!"
By now my neck ached from looking but not looking and I was sick of it.
(Make up your mind. Can I look now?)
"Yes." Kyrene sounded puzzled. "He left."
(You mean that by some small chance the man wasn't following us at all, but was merely being a tourist. Heavens.)
"Okay, so I overreacted a little. Alright, too much," she amended reluctantly. "I guess I'm just anxious for something exciting to happen, that's all. Don't you ever get tired of just living quietly day to day?" She turned to me. "Don't give me that weary schoolmarm look, Akki. I already know your answer to my question. I don't know why I even bothered asking." Kyrene's shoulders slumped and my conscience niggled.
(We'll find some excitement and adventure, Kyrene.)
I gasped. What was I saying?
"You think so?" Her shoulders straightened slightly.
(Sure.) I answered, confidently. It was easy. I was confident that Kyrene would have no problem finding excitement. Whether that excitement would be good for us was another matter. (But not adventure like Gaea Minor,) I added quickly.
"Relax. It was a fluke that we happened to get caught up in biggest conspiracy ever known on Gaea Minor." She rubbed her hands together. "I kind of enjoyed it, myself. We did help the police, you know. And that reward was the only way we could repair the Swift. We'd still be there if not for that."
We went on down the street. She was right. We did finally get off that rock, thanks to the reward. But that was the only good thing about that planet, as far as I was concerned. Gaea Minor is advertised as the "Wilderness Man's Dream World", and they aren't kidding. The planet, the system's largest, is nothing but a vast wasteland spattered with rowdy boomtowns with impossible names like Dodge, Death Valley, and Tombstone.
On Gaea Minor, the main occupation is rarebit cultivation. A rarebit, I had learned, was the fruit of the Toloti Plant, plucked at the right time and left to dry in the sun. It then became as hard as corundum and extremely valuable, especially if the rarebiter knew his craft and coaxed the piece into taking on multiple hues like an opal. Toloti only grew in certain parts of the planet, and at certain times of year, with special conditions, one of which was that the first three weeks of the plant's life must be spent at a temperature between 294.2 and 295.5 degrees absolute. I learned more of these little tidbits about rarebits, but discussing them is absolutely boring.
Nevertheless, it soon became clear to me that the difficulty in growing rarebits added to their absolute essentiality to people of wealth and made crime inevitable. The misfortune was that we had to get involved. Perhaps I wouldn't be so upset if I'd gotten some of the credit for the capture. But, as usual in these things, the "Dog" is left in the cold and the "Master" gets the goodies. To be sure, I'm above petty concerns like this. But doesn't it seem to work out that way an excessive amount of the time?
Kyrene slowed to a stop at the base of a wide stone staircase. While my thoughts had been on Gaea Minor, we'd reached our hotel. I glanced up casually to get a look at the seedy dive we'd be spending the next week or so in and nearly lost my teeth when my lower jaw plunged downward. (You sure this is the place?)
Ahead of us was a magnificent structure, white stone walls with pink stone trim. A well-creased liveryperson stood at the entrance. He was trying not to see us, peons that we were, cluttering the base of his edifice.
(Enough joking around, Kyrene. Let's go to the real hotel.) Truly, my temper was running a little thin with all of this.
Kyrene laughed. Then she spoke without moving her lips, a method we found useful in public places. "I guess I forgot to mention that the Head Councilman is paying for our expenses while we're here. This is definitely the place. You'll get to order anything you want from room service, Akki. Think about it."
It seemed like a dream, especially after they showed us to our quarters. The liveryperson hadn't really wanted to allow us in, but Kyrene's ident-plate changed that, even though it only carried her professional name, Kyrene Kil'ki, which she'd chosen on our first excursion from home two years before. Once her identification was cleared, we were whisked up to breathtaking rooms. The suite had a huge bedroom with two large, soft beds. I could almost feel the feathers already. In an alcove were a combined sitting and dining room. Off that, I noted a huge bathing area the size of a small swimming pool. I shuddered and tried not to look at it.
"Oh, how wonderful. Look at that tub!"
I didn't even feel that deserved a reply. Kyrene turned to me in contrition. "Oh, Akki .I'm sorry. I forgot. Here, let's go back to the sitting room."
This we did, and after ordering light refreshments, we soon settled in. Kyrene had what she called a good, long bath, and I curled up on one of the fluffy, dry beds with one of the Massery books on vid. After about a half-hour of reading his tedious verbiage, my body sank into heavenly slumber.
We arose a few hours later for our meeting with the Head Councilman's Aide to discuss the festival arrangements. We were to meet him at the Palace itself, and we were both understandably excited at this prospect. The Palace of Light is known throughout the system as one of the Great Wonders. The fact that it's set in another Wonder, the Janama Range, made it doubly Great.
We took the offered transportation this time, which turned out to be a sleek ground car that whispered along on a stream of air. The trip was short, so we didn't see much of the city or how we got to the Palace, but that didn't seem important. What we did notice was the glimmering marvel that was the Palace of Light.
"They say the Palace is lit by an inner fire in the stones," Kyrene said.
(According to Massery,) I added a bit smugly, having recently absorbed this knowledge, (the Palace of Light was constructed by a far-advanced race long before humans arrived on Thalir.) Apparently, these others had left the planet without a trace, but experts surmised that they were humanoid and slightly larger than Homo Sapiens because of the proportions used in the architectural design of the Palace. A few other structures also remained from the ancient Thalirians, but none as magnificent as the Palace.
The ground car slid to a silent halt, and hovered outside the North Gate, the sole entrance to the palace grounds. Both the main building and the grounds were hexagon-shaped with the southernmost edge of the building carved directly into the Janamas. The well-tended grounds of the Palace rose in luxuriant slopes to the shining white front of the Palace. I could only shake my head at the immensity of the structure and at the awesome civilization that must have existed to design such a thing.
"The books said that the Palace was falling apart. It looks in pretty good shape to me," Kyrene said.
The ground car pilot turned for the first time to us. "That's because of our Head Councilman. Before Pilar Val'pri the Palace was unused and, as you said, falling apart." The man lifted his head in pride as he spoke of the Head Councilman.
I briefly wondered at the cost of such a reconstruction. But then I remembered Thalir's impressive standings in GALFED trading. She was one of the galaxy's prime sources for marine agricultural products. Not only that, she was also a favorite vacation get away for the wealthy. All in all, she could probably afford to renovate a palace or two.
"May I see your passes?" a nice-looking gate guard asked, leaning into the open window of the ground car. He smiled at Kyrene as she handed him the card, his gaze lingering on her prettily turned up mouth. Still smiling, he read the identification plate.
"Well, let's see who -- Oh! Kyrene Kil'ki.." He cleared his throat and stood abruptly. "They are expecting you. Proceed to the Palace."
Kyrene blinked in astonishment at the man's sudden change in manner and then frowned. She reached in her pocket and I knew her fingers were on the slip of paper she'd stashed there.
Annoyed, I said, (I'm sure it has nothing to do with that note, Kyrene.)
The look on Kyrene's face told me she thought otherwise. Her cheeks, now flushed slightly, lent a warm pink frame to her brown eyes, which showed glimmers of gold. A bad sign.
We pulled to a stop outside a massive wooden door, engraved with intricate patterns. The driver said nothing, so we climbed out of the ground car and stood uncertainly by the entrance. The instant we paused, however, the doors swung open, revealing a cavernous foyer and impressive length of hall. A man in a yellow robe approached. He moved with such smoothness I could have sworn he wasn't walking, but gliding instead. He extended his hand and smiled warmly.
"Ah, Kyrene Kil'ki. Welcome to Thalir." We both stood still as the realization hit. This was no "aide" greeting us at the door. This was Pilar Val'pri himself, the Head Councilman of Thalir.