IronStar Page 11

  “We have heard of your excellent progress with language studies, and our ro’tachk Irshe,” here a nod to the sergeant seated at the corner to her left, “has reported finding you guarding this child, Akaray, in the ruined village. We have gathered to welcome you as a foreigner and to hear your words.”

  Well, here goes, thought Kirrah, mentally discarding several versions she had prepared to explain her presence. Several lies, she realized. What was the point? They seemed friendly enough, and with so much for her to absorb, the big advantage of telling the truth was that it would make remembering what she’d said, a lot easier.

  “My words will be difficult to accept. I ask your patience, I speak my truth.

  “I am a soldier like Irshe, charged with patrolling the borders of my Realm, also finding new …lands, for my King to (damn, no word for ‘colonize’!) …to send farmers and other people to live. However I do not travel the land, I travel the space between the stars, and my …patrol seeks not a new valley, but entire new worlds.”

  “Where then is your home?” asked Opeth, the gray-haired Armsmaster.

  “A vast distance beyond your sky. At night I can show you the direction, but it is too far to see. We travel in vessels made of …iron, (no word for hullmetal alloy, either!) that move far above the air, like your boats move above the bottom of the river.

  “As we approached your world, we were attacked by raiders. In the conflict, their two vessels were destroyed, and our one.” That’s it, thought Kirrah, keep it simple but honest. “I alone lived. I landed six days ago on your world. I met this boy,” a nod to Akaray on her immediate right, who was drinking in every word. “We fought the irwua together, my armor protected me and fed me air, and the beast tired of trying to eat me in it. Akaray made decoy, and I escaped the pond.”

  “Your armor must be stronger than it looks,” interjected Opeth. “An aroused irwua nest will tear a horse in two, and devour a young mu’uthn.” This at least, I am prepared for, thought Kirrah.

  “I ask someone to draw a blade, and I show,” she said. When several at the table drew back and concerned glances were exchanged, Slaetra broke in:

  “I believe she means kir’shazza, a lesson-between-friends, no offense taken.” Postures relaxed, and at a gesture and a word from Opeth, one of the guards standing at the side of the chamber stepped forward and held out his dagger, hilt first. Kirrah set her suit to “splint, right forearm, override”, wishing for the twentieth time she was wearing one of the Model 3C Combat Suits, where protective rigidity was an automatic and instantaneous response to attack. She accepted the twenty-centimeter dagger and placed the hilt in the guard’s hand, wrapping his fingers around the hilt and her left hand around his right. Then supporting his right hand solidly with her left, she drew her right forearm firmly across the iron blade, making a dull rasping sound. After a few sawing passes, she returned to her seat at the table and held out the undamaged limb for inspection. On impulse, she reached for one of the lit candles which had accompanied the refreshments, against the gray morning light filtering in. Holding her arm at the top of the flame and struggling with her limited vocabulary, she said:

  “The armor is safe for me.” Issthe, whose calm gray eyes had taken in this demonstration impassively, asked: “Did Akaray enter the water as decoy for the irwua?”

  “No,” said Kirrah, noticing how neatly the conversation was being led around to her sidearm, and from what unexpected direction. “He used a piece of the tso’ckhai which I had slain. He is a wise boy and does not make un-needful sacrifice.” Smiles all around at that. Kirrah almost missed Opeth’s subtle nod to Irshe, who asked:

  “Does your not-sword easily kill such a predator with one blow?” The room seemed extra silent. Kirrah looked around at the faces surrounding her – expectant, curious, watchful, friendly, perhaps a slightly dubious frown from Delima the Guildmaster… I bet you’ve heard your share of whoppers before, haven’t you? Kirrah thought. I don’t blame you a bit. Well, I suppose we had to get to this…

  “I am at difficulty,” she said. Damn that vocabulary – I must sound like an idiot… but they seem to be hanging on every word, and the alternative is to look like even more of an idiot by talking into my sleeve. What was it Angela said, ‘Communication between humans is ninety percent body language and ten percent tone of voice, the rest is words’.

  “I offer to show my not-sword, as lesson-between-friends, no offense.” (Thank you for that phrase, Slaetra!) “Pardon my words, I am foreign.”

  “Proceed,” said Lord Tsano, who seemed to be content for the most to let the others talk while he observed. It would be a mistake to assume small minds go with large bodies, Kirrah reminded herself, notwithstanding some stellar examples she had met in the Regnum Merchant Fleet.

  “Not safe here,” she said. “Much light, much noise, much damage. Outside, place others will not observe?” Lord Tsano nodded to Armsmaster Opeth, who beckoned one of the guards and spoke in low rapid tones. The man marched purposefully from the room.

  “What are your plans?” asked Lord Tsano. “Do you stay with us, do you go? Will others come for you?”

  “Others come in…” brief conference with Slaetra… “two hundred days. Possibly a little sooner or longer. Before it died my vessel sent a messenger, an object-that-speaks. My Realm’s Armsmen know where we were and when we should return. I expect they will follow to find what happened to my vessel.

  “When they arrive, I will be under their orders,” said Kirrah. “My realm has found many worlds, but few with people. It is a joy to find you. I will tell them they should put a trade-building where you direct, and an embassy.” Brai’klao shu’Naei, the thin professor who had come with them from the school, spoke up for the first time:

  “Your pardon, Lord Tsano, she does not understand your concern is for the boy.” Huh? thought Kirrah, taken aback by the apparent non sequitur.

  “Ah, Brai’klao, ever vigilant for your karadoi,” said Lord Tsano. Kirrah glanced at her wristcomp:

  < karadoi · client, patron (99+) >

  Oho, so I have a lawyer on my side, she realized. And I didn’t even know …wait a minute, we’re talking about contact between his people and an advanced culture, what’s Akaray got to do with it? At her obvious bafflement, Brai’klao explained that later that day, Lord Tsano would have to render wathra’ch, judgement for Akaray, who as an orphan would need placement in a good home.

  No no no! wailed a part of Kirrah, as Akaray shifted closer and slid a small hand into hers. Look, Captain, he followed me home, can I keep him? Kirrah began to realize that there were some wrenching decisions ahead, as her life would be dislocated a second time by her rescue. Slaetra spoke:

  “Kirrah and Akaray are bound by two lives balanced. Would they both be willing to accept temporary adoption? Kirrah, this would mean that you would be as his parent, also as guardian over his land-grant, until your people come. The danger is then, when you must return to duty. And leave him.”

  “You should know,” added Lord Tsano, “that as sole survivor of the village of Malame’thsha, Akaray is now the bearer of their land-grant, which makes him mayor and beneficiary of any produce from their land.”

  “That is not an immediate concern,” said Delima the Guildmaster. “We must stop the Wrth raiders to make farming secure,” with a short sideways glance at Armsmaster Opeth, “or there will be no produce to discuss”.

  “I will help if I can,” said Kirrah. “Why did they attack the village?”

  “We think they are too many for their own lands,” said Opeth, “and they seek our land for hunting and pasture. We are concerned about an alliance between Wrth raiders in the north and the O’dai nation, west across the Sea of the Sun.”

  “When my people come, they will be powerful allies for the Talamae,” said Kirrah. “We do not seek war, but we will protect our friends. We want all to prosper in their own lands.

  “May I accept temporary adoption of Akaray? If you agree,” she said, l
ooking down at the boy. “I must return to my …patrol when they arrive, perhaps as soon as two hundred days.”

  “I will go with you,” he said.

  “Akaray,” she said, returning his searching gaze, “I am bound to my service, you are too young to go into danger with me. I will be your adopted mother until then. Lord Tsano will find you a good home.”

  “As long as you allow, I stay with you,” said the boy. “Two lives balanced.”

  At the return of the guard who had left earlier, they all trooped out into the inner courtyard for Kirrah to show her not-sword. A target had been set up at the far end of the entryway, the door behind it closed. Kirrah walked down the length of the fifteen meter enclosed entryway and inspected the target: a straw dummy covered by a layer of leather armor, and behind a sixty-by-ninety centimeter wood and hide shield about fifteen millimeters thick. As friendly as these people are, she thought, they do get to the point. That is probably the Mark 1 Infantry Shield, and our clever Armsmaster wants to know what my weapon will do to it.

  She returned to the inner end of the entryway where the entire group was waiting. Kirrah drew her sidearm, checked the charge (full; eighty-five to eighty-seven shots at full power), dialed it up to three quarters power, took aim and fired. The SNAP! of the discharge blended with the searing flash of yellow, and the target exploded with a thunderclap that was amplified by the enclosed entryway. At the far end, bits of flaming straw and wood frame rained down, and the straw dummy burned like a torch in the gloomy passageway. The shield was lying on the floor: when Irshe picked it up, the wood frame was splintered and the hide covering peeled back about ten centimeters from a two-centimeter hole burned through its center. Also through the center of the leather body armor. Also through the center of the straw dummy, and into a deep charred gouge on the inside of the outer door. Irshe gave her an odd, speculative look. Thinking about our first encounter, I bet, Kirrah thought, meeting his gaze levelly.

  “What …does it throw?” he asked a little shakily.

  Oh-oh, how do you say ‘coherent light’ and ‘a few micrograms of relativistic sodium atoms’? “It throws light and fire,” she said. Turning around she was able to take in the reactions of the others: Akaray, proud and told-you-so; Lord Tsano and Opeth, speculative; Issthe, no reaction, just watching; and the others, with varying mixes of surprise and appalled shock.

  “With one of these a warrior could defeat an entire nation,” Irshe said. Might as well scotch that one right now, she thought:

  “No. This not-sword will throw only twenty times, then it must spend a day in the sun to …feed. It uses sunlight to throw.” Not exactly a lie, it was only at 85 shots now because I’ve been charging it for the last three days, Kirrah thought. “It is not a strong weapon, it is just to stop animals, also a useful tool. More like this,” she said, pointing to Irshe’s dagger in its sheath on his right hip, “…than this,” indicating the sword on his left. Let them think about that, and the benefits of a Regnum presence in their city. See, this cultural contact stuff didn’t need to be so hard…

  As the group filed back in to the private audience chamber, rather more soberly than they had come out, Kirrah assured Armsmaster Opeth that the not-sword was not a risk if stolen, since it would not fire without her personal touch. And yes, she appreciated the personal guard and would like it to continue.

  “You spoke of trade,” said Delima shu’Maakael, the Guildmaster, once they were settled around the table again. “What could a people as skilled as yours, want from us?” Good question, thought Kirrah:

  “I am a soldier, and do not know how to answer this,” she said. “Where my government has met other worlds like this, we have traded for art, such as these beautiful carvings, or perhaps you have foods or medicines that would be valuable to us. I would like to prepare for my people arriving, by learning and seeing more of your city. When two strangers meet, it is good to have a friend they both know, to guide them into friendship and avoid accidental trouble.” A covert glance at Irshe, who was looking back at her with those clear gray eyes, one eyebrow arched wryly.

  “I would be that friend for the Talamae and the Regnum Draconis.” A brief squeeze for a small hand which had somehow found its way into hers again, as she said that.

  “If your Regn’um trades weapons such as that not-sword with both Talamae and our enemies, there will be even more killing,” said Taiwi the Scribemaster, with a gesture toward her holstered beamer.

  “This we know,” Kirrah replied. “We defend our friends, but we trade in other things. Stronger weapons are very disruptive. We have learned to move slowly and carefully, with much discussion, before bringing new …ideas, new tools. We look for peace from good trade, not for conquest.

  “What new tools would you trade with us?” asked Delima.

  “Some of the other people on my vessel were trained to speak of trade,” she replied. “I am sorry they were killed. I will do my best for the Talamae.

  “We have many choices. Perhaps more objects-that-speak, which will carry your words great distances. If someone had another of these,” Kirrah tapped her wristcomp, “they could stand in Akaray’s village and speak, and I would hear them here.” That got a few eyebrows raised… and you’re just thinking of the military applications, Kirrah thought to herself with a smile: with one of these, within a year I bet you’ll be able to order the local equivalent of Pizza!

  “We can offer a device that will hold all the information in your shelves,” she said, gesturing to the scrolls and books on the wall behind them, “in the space of one book. Devices that will help farming, plowing and irrigating, faster travel, easier building.

  “Or perhaps a device to let you see through the body of an injured person, or medicines that would help care for your sick…” come to think of it, Kirrah had not seen one sick person since arriving in the city, except for Akaray’s leg wound, which was healing rather faster than she had expected.

  “I have not seen sick persons, do you have a place to care for them?”

  “Sickness is rare, unless someone fails to eat glatha-fruit,” said Issthe. “This sometimes happens to travelers, but is uncommon.”

  “I have been concerned that you do not eat it,” said Sleatra. Hm, the pale green fruit with the brown freckles and the ‘unknown alkaloids, probably safe’. Hmmm. On impulse, Kirrah asked:

  “How long do people of Talam live, if they are not injured?” Several perplexed looks were exchanged, then Delima said:

  “I am one hundred five winters, I think that makes me eldest here. I can expect forty or fifty more if I am careful.” Several covert smiles around the table at that. Ummm, lessee, thought Kirrah, bending over her wristcomp for a moment. Twenty-seven and a bit hour days, four hundred forty-nine days per year, that makes local years about 1.4 Standard years, and that makes this nice grandmotherly sixty-five-ish looking woman, ahhh, just over one hundred forty-six Standard years, into her two hundred ten year lifespan! Yikes! That was almost as good as the Regnum’s rejuve treatments, with its two hundred fifty year life expectancy. And that’s without analysis of the fruit’s biochemistry, isolation of pharmacologically active ingredients, stereotactic enhancement, or adjunctive medical treatments, Kirrah realized. That’s just from good clean living and glatha-fruit! I think we’ve found our trade leverage!

  “This glatha-fruit may be of great value to the Talamae in trade,” said Kirrah, not missing the ‘we’ and ‘our’ in her previous thought. “What else might we find? For example, I am surprised to see some animals which are found on other human worlds, like your horses, and some that appear to be unique to this world.”

  “For as far back as we remember, it has been as you see it,” said Taiwi Scribemaster. “Horses, humans, a few birds, some fish, some insects, certain of the grass and crop plants, all seem to be of one family. All the rest of life is of another. Usually, not always, a creature eats within its own family. The glatha plant seems to fit both families well, many creatures can eat
it. Do you think our ‘unique’ species would be useful for trade?”

  After more exploratory discussions, it was agreed that Kirrah would spend some time touring the city with a letter of introduction from Delima, visiting the various trades, guilds, shipping, warehousing and manufacturing facilities. Lord Tsano excused himself just as lunch was served in the meeting room, after which the various government functionaries returned to their presumably interrupted schedules. As lunch was finishing, Kirrah turned to her companions and said:

  “Lord Tsano seems like a very capable ruler. I was surprised that he was so informal. No one seemed to …fear him.”

  “Why would we appoint a King that we feared?” asked Slaetra, as though it was the most absurd idea in the world.

  “Appoint?” said Kirrah. “Wasn’t his father also King? How long has he been King?”

  “Lord Tsano’s father was a good blacksmith, but no one would have chosen him as King,” said Slaetra. “The previous King was Lord Aelitha, she was not as popular as Lord Tsano. He was always a clever boy, worked as a blacksmith like his father, until his appointment nine years ago. Been doing very well ever since, to some people’s surprise.” Whoops, thought Kirrah, need to update both vocabulary and assumptions. Later she would learn that ‘tchae’, the word her wristcomp translated as ‘King’, meant the office of head of state, and ‘dosha’, used with a proper name, meant ‘lord’, but by itself meant ‘root’. The office of King was filled by appointment, selection being made by a unanimous vote of eight citizens chosen by lot, one from each sector of the community.

  After lunch, they followed a guard back out to the courtyard and around the south corner of the central building, to a formal-looking door on the southwest side. Within was a room that was architecturally the mirror image of the audience chamber where they had met that morning, a room that by its formal furnishings Kirrah instantly recognized as a courtroom. Lord Tsano was seated behind the heavy desk at the raised end platform, in much more formal-looking light and dark blue robes of office. Brai’klao, acting as their legal counsel, led Kirrah and Akaray through the brief formal protocol of being called to the King’s Court in the matter of the temporary guardianship of one Akaray shu’Malafoth’shuah, and the assignment of custodianship over the landgrant to the ruined town of Malame’thsha.