The Abulon Dance (17 page)

Triani looked at the small triangular stimulants suspiciously. “This doesn’t look like your usual,” he said.

“It’s stronger. You don’t want to fall off your beast, do you?”

Triani shrugged, threw back his head and swallowed it. “This is going to be hell.”

He was right.

For hours the sun stabbed at their tired gritty eyes making them feel as if they were crossing a desert instead of the rocky field. When they came to a stream, they jumped down and drank greedily, cupping their hands in the clear water. Luan gave them a canteen to fill and helped them mount up again. They shared one of the animals, this time, Eulio sitting in front because he was shorter. Luan assured them that the animal was a docile creature who would follow its mate without urging. He and Marselind rode ahead, talking quietly together, obviously enjoying their closeness.

“It’s nice someone’s having a good time,” muttered Eulio. After a while, they helped each other off with their tunics and tied them around their waists. It was getting hotter and hotter, but the other two didn’t seem affected.

Suddenly their mild amax gave a wild, fierce snort and broke into a gallop, heading off the path through the dense forest. Eulio screamed. Triani pushed him down hard against the creature’s neck, hanging on to the beast’s long, shaggy wool. They both closed their eyes. The ground shook with the pounding of hooves and the air was filled with high, wild snorting. Eulio felt his fear rise in his throat. Triani’s body was pressing him down and he could hardly breathe. He fainted.

Triani was very much aware of what was happening but he was powerless to do anything about it. He looked over his shoulder to see if the Abulonians were following, but the wild plunging of the animal made it impossible to see anything but a blur of trees, sun and leaves. He turned back just as the animal veered off the trail and pounded through the dense undergrowth. Triani raised his head again to get some idea of where they were going. A low-hanging branch knocked him to the ground. The great beast plunged away. Triani sat there stunned, feeling as if his backbone had been rammed up into his head. Shakily he got to his feet and followed the trail of broken branches. There was no sign of Luan or Marselind. In front of him, the forest opened up and the ground stopped. It seemed as if the land had caved in suddenly, plunging down to meet the ribbon of water that curled through the dense greenery below. The stream was fed by a noisy waterfall that tumbled and splashed nearby. Nothing stirred in the warm air but a wide-winged bird, spiraling slowly downwards against the lavender blue of the sky. Far below, in an open stretch of rock and bare, red earth, a patch of bright, royal blue caught his eye. Eulio! The sun glinted on the gold bands on his wrist. “Ah, shit!” Triani was looking for a way down when the ground gave way beneath his feet. He clawed desperately at the empty air as he fell, landing with a thump on his backside, sliding uncontrollably towards the small, sprawled figure of his partner. The sky tilted crazily. Everything went black.

SIXTEEN

Beny stood at the window wringing his hands. In the open space below, the Imperial Hunters were engaged in some complicated and mystifying maneuvers, but Beny wasn’t aware of them. He felt as if things were closing in on him. If everything continued to move ahead on schedule, sixty-five Terrans would be arriving in three days. A week ago, he would have been delighted that all his careful planning for the Festival was working out so smoothly. Now he couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t take the responsibility of letting more innocent people come to this place expecting a safe environment. He should have made a move sooner.

He paced around the room one more time, ending up in front of his desk. His hand was shaking as he punched in the combination for the bottom drawer. It slid open silently, revealing the flat red communication device that was for emergency use only. It took two voice prints and three codes to activate it. It had never occurred to him that he would have to use it. He shut the drawer again, unable to face making the call just yet. It made him feel as if he had already failed. Everything that had always been considered a plus to him before, seemed a definite minus here; his height, his soft, androgynous good looks, his slender build, even his talent for music. Damn this place! It was worse than the I.P.A. Academy! It had taken disaster to make him fully realize that the term ‘Ambassador’ was more than a courtesy title, as he had thought. Abulon was an important posting and what did he have to report? One terrorist kidnaping; both the stars of the Merculian National Dance Company out in the woods on a dangerous and uncertain errand; his office manager close to revolt and the contempt of the Great Chief because he wasn’t doing one thing about any of it.

The door opened softly and the First Minister appeared, his dark face split by a wide friendly grin. “I am going against all the rules, no?” he said cheerfully. “I would not let them announce me. This is just an informal visit. Why stand on ceremony?”

“No reason at all,” Beny stammered, staring at his unexpected guest. “Please, sit down. Would you like something to drink? Eat?”

“No, no.” The First Minister waved his hand, dismissing the suggestion and began to prowl around the office, inspecting and touching the strange devices Beny took for granted. “You have so much equipment. So much amazing technology. It must be a fine place, where you come from.”

“We think so, Excellency.”

“Please. My name is Tquand. Perhaps some time you will explain to me how these things work—what it is they are all for.”

“Certainly. But I thought you were not in favor of technology?”

“Although we support our Chief, we do not all think as he does. Besides, there is always curiosity, no?” He winked and sprawled his long frame in the easy chair opposite the desk.

Then the smile faded from his face. “I am sorry for all this unpleasantness. I wanted you to know that you have my sympathy.” He paused, watching Beny, his face somber now.

“Thank you,” murmured Beny, unsure what was expected.

“I also wanted to warn you.” He stopped, glancing at the closed door. “We are alone, no?”

“Quite alone,” Beny assured him.

“The Chief’s son is an impetuous and inexperienced youth. I am very fond of him, you understand, and he has many good qualities, but he tends to be erratic, ruled by his heart, rather than his head as a good leader must be. He is just a boy. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

Beny felt a cold thrill of fear. Had he been too trusting? Had he sent his jewelled lover into a trap? “I appreciate you coming here,” he said warily. “It is good to know our worries and anxiety for one of our group is understood on more than an intellectual level.” Even as he heard the words coming out of his mouth, he cringed at their meaninglessness.

But the First Minister seemed satisfied. He rubbed his hands together. “It will soon be our Festival of Dreams, a major celebration for us. Ordinarily, I would insist that a distinguished visitor such as yourself be our honored guest, but as things are…. Of course, all may be well by then, no?”

“Let’s hope so.”

“So.” The First Minister sprang from his chair, his cheerful grin restored and reached across the desk to give Beny a friendly thump on the arm. “Just so we understand each other,” he said. “And if there is anything you need, anything I can help you with, you have only to ask.” He winked again, waved and was gone.

“Bloody damn,” muttered Beny. He glanced down at the closed drawer, more convinced than even that he would have to contact the I.P.A. But not now. His ears were hurting with tension. He needed a break. Turning away from the crowded desk and the soft, reproachful hum of the computer, he slipped out the back door. He had never been in this narrow passage before but he was sure it led up to the shuttle port area and sunshine. He had to get away for a while, to sit quietly by himself in the open air and think things through. As he followed the rough, dusty passage upwards, he was startled to see someone coming the other way. With a sinking of his heart, he recognized the Chief.

“Are you looking for a peaceful corner, too, Ambassador?” He smiled his strange, lopsided smile.

“Sometimes one has to get away,” Beny agreed warily.

The Chief pushed open a low door sunken into the thick wall. “This is my private place, hidden away back here in this unused passageway. Would you care to join me for a pipe or some ale?”

Beny bowed, trying to master the consternation he felt as he preceded the man into a long, narrow room. The walls were painted a deep green and the rough, wooden floor was bare. In the middle was a beautifully carved table covered with dust. On top was a large glass case holding pipes, bottles and three glasses. Two deep chairs were placed by the wide window which looked out high over the roof tops of the city.

“Sit down. Relax. No one is allowed to disturb me here.” He was collecting pipe and tobacco and filling two glasses with the strong frothy ale. Beny stretched out with calculated care. He thought it was much too early in the day for anything stronger than hot chocolate but he willed his limbs to relax, his face to look serene. The Chief settled down beside him and handed him one of the glasses. Beny nodded his thanks, noting the many tiny wrinkles in the Chief’s nut-brown face, so in contrast to the bright, wary, young-looking eyes.

“I must commend you on the impressive program you have lined up for us. We are all looking forward to the arrival of the Terrans, especially my son. He has always been fascinated by Terrans.”

“Is that so?” Beny carefully inspected his glass.

“Let us hope their visit will be…uneventful.” The Chief was working with the long-stemmed pipe, holding the bowl in his hands, tamping the greenish tobacco gently. “Do you think my son would make a good leader?”

“He speaks well,” said Beny cautiously.

“He will be of age soon. If he were more experienced, I might be tempted to resign. I don’t really enjoy the game any more.”

The game! Chamion’s life just a game! Beny closed his eyes tightly for a few seconds and then opened them again. “I thought he didn’t want to be Chief,” he said quietly.

“No one can turn down power, Benvolini.”

“Some can.”

“I doubt it. I’m willing to bet that new friend of his can’t. He’s a clever man, that Marselind. And he comes from a good family, too,” he added.

Beny had to smile in spite of himself. “Chief, you sound just like my parents when I brought Eulio home for the first time.”

The Chief laughed. “I guess parents are the same all over.”

“Probably.”

“It seems just yesterday that I appointed Quetzelan, the Dream Weaver, as regent in the event of my death. Now Luan is nearly of age. The boy has a natural instinct for politics. It’s in his blood and eventually he will see that. Maybe he already has.” He smoked for a while in silence.

Beny swirled the liquid around in his glass thoughtfully. He hadn’t wanted this meeting, but perhaps he could use it to his advantage. “You know, Chief, it isn’t my place to say this, but it seems to me that you and this Yonan aren’t really so far apart. You both want what’s best for your people, after all. It’s just the means you don’t agree on.”

The Chief leaned back and watched the smoke curl up to the ceiling. “I never questioned what my father was doing when he was in power for so long. He was afraid of machines. He said we Abulonians were never meant to be a nation of button pushers and weaklings. The two were synonymous with him. Hunters are looked up to for their bravery, courage and strength. He couldn’t see technology and physical prowess going together. So he turned back to the old ways. In our culture, physical prowess has always been what makes us superior to others.”

Beny turned his head sharply. His mild, sherry-brown eyes hardened. “You consider yourselves superior to others?”

The Chief looked at him, surprised. Almost at once a shutter dropped over his face, making his eyes blank. “The word I meant was ‘stronger’,” he said easily. “We have a strong army, a strong population. Most of our young men are trained as Hunters, even if they choose not to serve. Let me get you some more ale.” The Chief rose and refilled Beny’s glass as well as his own. “What do you think of this building? This whole place is a monument to my father, blending our ancient culture with modern niceties, or should I say necessities? But he did not look ahead. Now, when things break down, there is no one to fix them. We are too dependent on the androids. When they break down, what will we do? We need the Inter-Planetary Alliance.”

Beny was thinking of the high technology watch dogs, the smooth-running facilities of the shuttle port, even the air-circulation system in this building. It was a puzzle he thought it best not to comment on. He decided to stick to politics. “You realize the I.P.A. might turn you down when they find out the…ah…precarious state of affairs here?”

The Chief lifted his shoulders in an elaborate shrug. “It was a gamble, like everything else. I thought the obvious advantages of the move would appeal to the people and weaken Yonan’s support. This time I lose.”

Beny felt something snap inside. “You don’t give a damn, do you?” he cried. “Are you made of ice? Have you no heart? No soul? Cham may be dead right now and all you talk about is power! Games!” Beny slammed the glass down so hard it shattered on the floor. Uncaring, he stood up and made for the door.

“Can you find your way back?” asked the Chief courteously.

Beny didn’t trust himself to say any more. He bowed and went out into the narrow passage. He closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall for a moment to collect himself. I’ll have to resign, he thought. I’m never going to make it in the Diplomatic Corps.

When he arrived back at his office, it was already eleven o’clock. Right on cue, the android Dhakan Biandor came in, carrying the tray of hot chocolate Beny always enjoyed at this hour. The Merculian smiled at the android absently and reached out automatically to steady him as he stumbled on the uneven floor. The smile faded from Beny’s face. The round eyes filled with shock. He had never touched his android servant before. He stared at Dhakan in disbelief. “I have done something wrong, master?” asked the android, looking at Beny intently with his shiny, copper eyes.