Michaela (18 page)

The Kalquorians lived within the cliffs.

Korkla had already explained to Michaela that his people altered the landscape as little as possible. She knew the capital’s marketplace was located in the remains of a mine, a thriving shopping area within the hollowed-out earth. However, it had never occurred to Michaela that Kalquorians would make their homes within cliffs and caves. Apparently even the Imperial Clan chose to live in such a way. Her vision of a soaring palace where she would visit Jessica crumbled away.

It doesn’t matter. I’ll be with Korkla, Raxstad, and Govi. I’ll wear skins and cook over an open fire if that’s what it takes.

Michaela was resolute to not be disappointed. The transport approached her new home, slowing down and heading straight for a large cavern within the cliff.

They swooped in. The bright sunlight was replaced not by jagged cave walls and floors, but by stone polished as smooth as metal. Michaela goggled to see a thoroughly modern landing bay surrounding the transport. The ship landed softly, not jarring any of them as it settled.

Okay, so it’s not so bad. Heck, it’s nicer in here than any shuttle bay I ever saw on Earth. Maybe being a cavewoman won’t be so awful after all, if this is their version of roughing it.

Michaela smiled at the men who surrounded her, waiting for her reaction. The emperors, who seemed to be softly arguing amongst themselves, were already leaving. Jessica followed with her clan.

“Shall we show you your new home?” Korkla asked, taking Michaela’s hand and tugging her towards the door.

“Lead on. I’m curious to see how cliff dwellers live,” Michaela grinned.

“I guess it’s something of a surprise,” Govi said. “For someone who was used to free-standing structures, I mean.”

“Well, since our Nobek is such a gorilla, I actually anticipated us living in a treetop and swinging from vines. I’m a little disappointed.”

The men laughed. “Do people do that on Earth?” Raxstad asked.

Michaela snickered, imagining him beating his chest and bellowing a Tarzan yell. It wasn’t much of a stretch. Thinking of the massive Nobek in a loincloth was even more fun.

“Just call me Jane,” she muttered under her breath.

* * * *

After seeing the state-of-the-art shuttle bay facility in the Royal House, Michaela was reassured she wouldn’t be cooking meals over an open fire or washing her beautiful Plasian-made clothing in the nearest stream. The in-house transport, an elevator-like system that could access all levels and suites within the massive cliff, was operated by voice command. It was all very impressive. When it dropped the clan off at the doorstep of Clan Korkla’s quarters, Michaela was scanned for permanent access. Once that was done, the door before her hissed open.

Korkla gave her a gentle push to the room beyond, where the lights were just coming up. “Welcome to your home, my Matara.”

Even after having seen the landing bay and in-house transport, Michaela was not prepared for what she walked into. She stopped after half a dozen steps in, gaping in awe.

Except for the polished stone beneath her slippered feet, Michaela saw no evidence that she stood within a cliff. Instead, it was as if she’d walked into the grand entryway of a mansion. The ceiling was high overhead, with a large vid monitor showing the cloud-scudded blue skies outside.

Alcoves had been carved into the walls, where small statues of strange but impressive alien animals looked down on her. The walls themselves were covered by illuminated panels that issued soft gold lighting, making the room appear sun-drenched.

Korkla smiled as he watched Michaela take in her surroundings. “This is the greeting room. When we have visitors, we entertain them here and occasionally the dining room.”

Michaela dragged her gaze downward to take in the furnishings. Loungers, couches, chairs, and seating cushions scattered the gleaming floor, their fabrics the hues of the pink and green beach outside. The tables and other furniture were at first glance very simple, but closer examination revealed the workmanship that made ponderous pieces seem light and delicate. Rich copper-colored rugs scattered across the floor, adding comfort to the luxury.

The room had splendor that managed to avoid being ostentatious. It was an amazing example of livable formality. Michaela felt she could flop on a seating cushion and sprawl when alone, but yet entertain a roomful of gowned and tuxedoed millionaires within the same space. She loved the room.

Fighting her way past the wonder of her – her! – new home, Michaela smiled at the three men. “It’s stunning. Let me guess; Raxstad this is your doing, right?”

Her Nobek snorted. Raxstad was not a man who looked precisely at home in the greeting room. Michaela thought the only setting that would truly suit him might be that of a medieval dungeon.

She couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Earlier she’d imagined Raxstad in a loincloth, swinging from trees. Now in her mind’s eye, he wielded a whip and carried chains.

I love that big lug. He gives me the best fantasies.

Korkla, a man worth quite a few fantasies of his own, said, “For the two public rooms, Clajak had his decorator do this as a gift to my clan. Our own tastes are rather simple, as you’ll soon see. Feel free to add your own touches to the rest of the home, my Matara.”

Michaela was glad to hear she could express her own tastes in the living space. Eager to see the rest of the home she asked, “What’s next on the tour?”

The men led her to the formal dining room, which was every bit as quietly grand as the greeting room. Michaela was delighted with the color scheme of blue and gold, with accents of the pink and green of the greeting room. The long table could have easily sat twenty people, thirty if guests didn’t mind being crowded.

“Do you often have big parties?” Michaela asked.

“Sometimes family,” Govi told her. “Most of the time these two rooms are used for state gatherings on the Crown Prince Clan’s behalf.”

“Especially when there is some question as to the intentions of the guests,” Korkla added. “It’s not a good idea to give others access to the royal suites.”

Michaela’s eyebrows rose at that snippet of information. “You mean some of the guests can be dangerous?”

“You can never be sure with ambassadors from other planets. Usually, however, trouble comes within the realm of extreme assholery,” Raxstad said. “If Bevau thinks someone is actually dangerous to his clan, he deals with it. That sort doesn’t come over for dinner, but I have seen him send them off to their funerals.”

Michaela guffawed. “Did you say assholery? I’ve taught you well, my Nobek. Go forth and mix with Earthers, especially the heads of the Church.”

Govi shook his head, but snickered. “I thought we agreed to only speak Kalquorian from now on.”

Raxstad shrugged. “English as spoken by Michaela offers some wonderful descriptions. I think we should add certain words to our everyday language.”

Michaela was outwardly amused over Raxstad adopting Earther profanity, but some of the other things he’d mentioned occupied her mind. The bit about Prince Bevau sending men to their funerals gave her pause.

Back on Plasius, she’d seen a side of the Kalquorian men that had never been hinted at before. When some of the marooned soldiers who were still loyal to Earth had attacked Michaela and Jessica, Clans Korkla and Clajak had come to their rescue. The Kalquorians had demolished the soldiers with a savagery that stunned Michaela. The Earther men had lived, but not because the Kalquorians had wished to spare them. Jessica’s life-threatening injuries had kept them from pursuing immediate revenge.

Having seen the vicious assault the Kalquorians had carried out on those Earthers, particularly Raxstad and Bevau, Michaela could well imagine the Nobek prince killing other men. His beautiful face and often-seen humor had disappeared behind the visage of a raging animal.

Raxstad had been even scarier. It was as if an ill-fitting veneer of civilization had been stripped from his face, leaving only the instinctive beast behind. A rabid, demonic, primitive beast. There had been no sanity left to Michaela’s massive clanmate. She was sure the only reason he had not succeeded in killing anyone was because he hadn’t been able to focus on who should die first. He’d gone from soldier to soldier, meting out massive injury to as many of them as possible until Clajak ordered him to stop.

He would kill for me without hesitation.

The realization scared Michaela more than it comforted her. She did not want to be the reason anyone died.

The men showed her their kitchen. Michaela was delighted to see the state-of-the-art facility, with appliances she’d never even seen before. She’d talked often on their trip to Kalquor about how much she wanted to cook for her clan, and it appeared she would have the opportunity to do so. The many dishes of her favorite Middle Eastern and Haitian fare danced before her mind’s eye.

“If I could just figure out what Kalquorian foods can be substituted for Earther, I’ll be in business here,” she enthused, opening doors, sliding out trays, and experimentally pushing buttons. “Any time there’s a shipment due in of Earther goods, I want to know right away!”

“It can be difficult, but I have some Adraf connections. They are ignoring the sanctions Earth has imposed on importing to Kalquor,” Korkla said.

“And charging a premium to do so,” Govi sighed. He smiled at Michaela. “Look how happy you are. I see you are already planning your first feast.”

She chuckled, overwhelmed by all the gadgets surrounding her. Now that her initial enthusiasm ebbed, the room looked more like an engineering nightmare than a kitchen. “I hardly know where to begin. I guess the first thing would be to figure out how to boil water in Mission Control here.”

Their next stop was in a second dining room. It was much smaller than the one designated for public functions, with hardly anything more than a low table and seating cushions to decorate it. Michaela barely noted the sparse furnishings, however. The large archway that led outside to the balcony captured her attention instead.

She hurried out to the ledge’s stone railing and gasped at the view despite having seen it earlier from the transport and the docking bay.

The clouds had dissipated, leaving a powder blue sky from which the golden sun beamed. Shuttles trailed overhead in complicated traffic patterns, spaced at equal intervals from each other. Michaela guessed that they were controlled somehow by a computer program; the distances between each vehicle were too perfect to be under manual control. Their metal hulls gleamed in the sunshine.

Below, the green sea washed against the pearlescent pink-sand beach. Michaela realized how high up she was because of the small figures that walked and jogged along the shore, and the ones that bobbed in the gentle surf. It made her a little dizzy, and she took a shaky step back from the railing.

“No leaning over,” she laughed in a breathless voice. “It’s a long way down.”

Korkla gathered her in his arms, making Michaela feel secure once more. “There is a safety field that activates if objects of a certain mass are detected falling from the cliff. It not only guards against accidental falls—”

“Or falls that aren’t so accidental,” Raxstad supplied in a ghoulish voice.

“—but also protects those below from dislodged rocks and the like,” Korkla finished.

Michaela shivered. “Good to know. I never knew I had an issue with heights until this moment.” She stared out at the seascape beyond, inhaling the salt tang of the ocean. “It is so stunning out here. To think when I lived in Haiti that the ocean was only an hour away by electric car, and yet I never saw it. I’ve missed out.”

She looked around at the balcony itself. Carved out of the cliff face, it appeared at first glance to be like smooth marble. However, the surface beneath her feet had grooves, keeping it from being slippery. The railing was also carved from the stone, coming just beneath chest height to Michaela with oval openings one could peer through if seated on the scattered seating cushions. Tables dotted the balcony, convenient places to lay drinks, handhelds, and whatever else one might bring outside. There was even a long, tall metal table with racks for cups and bottles of liquor along one end of the balcony.

Michaela’s attention was caught by what she saw a few feet away. She frowned at a basin of water. “Tell me this is not the bathing facility out here for everyone to see.”

The men laughed at her sudden chagrin. Govi tugged at one of her curls. “No, we don’t take baths out on our balcony. It’s a heated whirlpool. It’s nice to sit and soak in for relaxation.”

“Wearing soaksuits,” Raxstad added. “Most of the time.”

“Govi has a habit of hopping in naked though. He’s something of an exhibitionist.” Korkla grinned at the Imdiko.

“I’ve never heard you complain.” Govi made a face at the Dramok.

“It’s only irritating when you start getting coms from the men who see you as their shuttles pass by and want to get to know you better.”

Michaela thought of relaxing in the whirlpool with a drink in her hand. She looked again at the amazing view of the beach and ocean. “I could live out here. Who wants to be indoors when you have this, plus a naked Govi?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Raxstad agreed. He grabbed a handful of Govi’s ass, making the Imdiko yelp with startled laughter.