Double solitaire

Chapter Nineteen

Ballooning was definitely a rad experience. Slipping along, just another colorful cloud among all the other colorful clouds. Unlike a human outing there wasn’t a lot of noise of conversation, but that was because most of the people were using Vayet, and fully half the conversation was telepathic. There was a Tarhiji orchestra performing at the stern of the amazing carved-and-painted gondola, but they kept it soft so a person could appreciate the magical silence of this mode of travel.

There was one constant noise that Kelly found very disturbing – the clap of wings followed by a piteous shriek as another small bird or animal was caught and killed by the plunging birds of prey being flown by the nobles in the bow. Blaise was up there where he could really hear their cries and smell the blood. Kelly liked it just fine in the stern, thank you. And he knew the cure for discomfort – more wine.

He signaled, and the wine washed like liquid amber into the goblet. The scent of the servant’s per fume filled Kelly’s nostrils. He snatched up the glass so quickly that the servant spilled a few drops on the embroidered tablecloth. Kelly grinned apology at the pretty girl and gulped down half the glass. Cold sweet fire. Whatever else could be said about the Takisians, they made bitching wine. The girl smiled back. There was a startling reaction from Kelly’s borrowed body, and he half rose from his chair. The horizon wobbled, and Kelly realized he was more than a little drunk.

“The body leads, the mind must follow,” said Bat’tam.

The elderly noble had drawn a chair close – too close – to Kelly’s. The lost human blinked owlishly at him. The embedded jewels had begun to sag like collapsing houses into the wrinkles networking Bat’tam’s face, and his long silver hair reminded Kelly of cobwebs. The older man’s gaze dropped, and Kelly slid a hand to his crotch to hide his rampant erection. Bat’tam stood, waved off the girl, placed a hand on Kelly’s shoulder, and urged him back into his chair.

“There, there, Ilkazam, don’t distress yourself.”

“I’m a little confused about my role right now,” Kelly slurred, and hiccuped his way into a little sob.

“What does it matter? Man or woman, you are dear to me.”

“I thought you were only nice to me so you could get close to Blaise.”

Bat’tam laid a hand across Kelly’s mouth, stopping the angry, bitter words. “I avoid charismatic young men with fire in their eyes, and a hunger in their heart. That’s how I’ve lived to be so old. No, Ilkazam. You are -” Bat’tam broke off abruptly, and frowned at the small, fast shuttle that was falling like one of the hunting birds on the bloated mass of the balloon.

The ship braked, and hovered beside the gondola. Everyone’s attention shifted to the new arrival.

“It must be serious if they interrupt the Raiyis at his play,” Bat’tam said.

Kelly’s focus was on the flock of pretty little gray-and-lavender birds that had just been released. “Run,” he said under his breath. “Fly fast.” The little birds went fluttering in all directions. Several of the large raptors spread their brilliantly colored wings and shook them urgently as they sensed their prey escaping.

A man was suspended in thin air, being propelled by some unseen force from the door of the shuttle to the deck of the gondola. He hurried to the party surrounding Blaise and dropped to his knees.

“My lord,” the man said.

Blaise smiled tightly down at him and rolled an eye to Durg. The Morakh stepped ponderously forward. “Der’et, one of our intelligence officers from the Bonded station.”

“This better be good. You’ve interrupted me.”

“Perhaps in private, master,” Durg said softly.

“Fuck that,” Blaise said in English.

“A Network ship docked today. Tisianne brant Ts’ara and Zabb brant Sabina were aboard. They were taken to Ilkazam, and there have been shots exchanged with the Network vacu.”

Durg watched the color drain from the boy’s face. “Oh no. No. How? How did he get here?”

Hesitantly the spy offered, “The Network, Raiyis.”

Blaise turned on Durg. “Why didn’t you tell me? You said we’d be safe. He couldn’t get here!”

“Calm yourself.”

It was an inauspicious recommendation. It lit the fuse of Blaise’s fury, and he went plunging like a linebacker through the diminutive Takisians clustered about him.

Durg didn’t have time to deal with Blaise’s tantrums at the moment. The news of a Network encroachment into Takisian space was alarming. Glancing down at the huddled spy, Durg said, “Return at once to the station and monitor the Network. Apprise me of any movement or messages.” Durg started away, then looked back briefly. “And I suggest you not take formal leave of the Raiyis.”

There was a sudden murmur of sound from the stern of the gondola, and a wavelike movement as the crowd reacted like an amoeba touched with a finger. With mounting concern Durg rolled through the crowd.

Saw Kelly, running like a maddened jebali, screaming Durg’s name. The man slammed into his chest, and the extent of the disaster came into focus in sharp, hard-edged images – a white-and-red-coated bone splinter sticking through the skin of Kelly’s forearm.

Durg grabbed Kelly and shook him. The man screamed. Broken ribs, Durg registered.

“Where is Blaise?”

“He’s going to kill him! He tried to save me! He’ll kill me!” Kelly babbled.

Durg kicked into a run. Through the ranks of shocked Zal’hma at’ Irg. “Go,” the Morakh roared at the assembled nobles. They went.

Blaise was a frozen statue, but great beads of sweat were squeezing through the skin on his forehead, matting in the red sideburns, rolling down through the blood on his cheek. Bat’tam, armed with a broken, blood-drenched goblet, was slowly gnawing through his lower lip. Blood was beginning to run down his chin.

Kelly crept past Durg to Bat’tam’s side. The elderly noble put an arm around Kelly’s waist, held him close – but gently, so gently. A part of Durg’s mind registered this development and wondered if the boykisser was going to be a problem requiring a permanent solution.

“Release him,” Durg ordered.

An alien emotion ran like a furtive animal through his guts. Then Durg tensed, and as Bat’tam’s desperate mind control relaxed, the Morakh swiftly slapped Blaise across the face. “Are you mad? You rule House Vayawand. How can you fear a pregnant female?”

“I don’t want there to be even a chance that Tachyon can recover his body. She” – Blaise’s out-thrust arm was so taut that it shivered with strain as he pointed at Kelly – “is useless to us now. I want her dead.”

“Useless?” Bat’tam’s fingers tightened briefly on Kelly’s waist. The man’s nervousness jumped in each syllable. “My lord, in this body reposes ten thousand years of planned breeding. The finest genetic legacy the Ilkazam could create. This is a treasure not to be wasted.”

“You don’t give a shit about irreplaceable genetic material, you just want to fuck my granddaddy,” Blaise spat. Bat’tam bowed his head. “Get out of here, faggot.” Bat’tam hastened to obey.

Durg allowed the silence to stretch into an agonizingly long minute. Gave the killing frenzy time to die. “Perhaps his motives are not the most pure, but if the reasonable argument does not appeal… consider how it would complicate Tisianne’s life if we raided the Ilkazam gene pool,” Durg said softly.

The final flicker of insane fire faded from Blaise’s dark eyes. He tugged thoughtfully at his lower lip and regarded Kelly. “What did you have in mind?”

“Marriage is a very useful institution.” After a moment’s hesitation Blaise began to laugh.

There was nervous shifting from the nobles all huddled in the bow of the gondola. Blaise’s face darkened. “Are any of them spying on me?”

Durg shrugged. “It’s possible. I’m the wrong person to ask.”

“I can’t trust any of them.”

“You have the sworn personal loyalty of every Morakh in House Vayawand. The Zal’hma at’ Irg need not concern you.”

Blaise was shaking his head, sending sweat and blood droplets flying. “I think we ought to get the hell out of here. I’ve got to have support…

Durg held himself in close control. Watched the careful facade of nerve and competence he had constructed and coached into this boy crumbling like an avalanche. Sought a solution. Then softly he said, “My lord, the psi lords are not the only people on Takis.”