Princess of Amathar (17 page)

At last, we reached the great transport center, and then walked to the shuttle train line we needed. We were the only two people in the subway car, so I turned to look at the city-cycle dial. It read 01067.

"Oh no," I said aloud.

"What is the matter?" asked Vena Remontar.

"I was supposed to meet with Nicohl Messonar at 01053. I've missed the appointment by almost fifteen cycles!"

"I would hate to be in your place," replied my companion.

"You are," I said. "I am going to tell her it is your fault. I am new to the city and you dragged me off see the sites."

"I don't think she will excuse you," the female knight said.

"Somehow I think you are right."

We got off the shuttle train at our stop and stepped out of the station onto the street. Immediately something didn't seem right. The city was dark. The warmth of the ever-present sun no longer beat down on the top of my head. I looked up to see one of the great Amatharian battleships moving slowly above us. It dwarfed the huge skyscrapers of the city, and dominated the sky--more than a mile long and nearly half a mile wide. On its belly were large openings for retrieving aircraft and taking on cargo, and it was painted dark navy blue, with silver insignia and trim.

Chapter Seventeen: Plans

Looking up frequently at the flying marvel above us, Vena Remontar and I made our way back to the home of her cousin. The great battleship was not alone in the sky. Beyond it I could just make out two similar ships hovering above the city. I hoped that they were part of the fleet that Norar Remontar was preparing for his sister's rescue. Vena Remontar stopped at the entrance of the building, and said her goodbye.

"Thank you for everything," I said.

"It was my pleasure, knight," she replied. "We will meet again soon." I made my way up the forty-five flights of escalators to Norar Remontar's apartment. No sooner had I entered, than my Amatharian friend appeared from another room.

"You are finally here," he observed.

"Yes."

"You are to come with me,"

"What now?" I asked.

"My grandfather wants to see you."

I nodded in understanding, and followed the tall Amatharian out the door and up three more flights of escalators. We entered a large entryway and waited outside a large navy blue door. This was a type of waiting area that one might find outside any large office. Had I been in New York or Los Angeles, I would have expected a secretary or a receptionist at a desk, but in Amathar they don’t have receptionists and a secretary’s job is a bit different than on Earth—more like a librarian. Visitors to an Amatharian office observe strict rules of etiquette, just as they would when visiting an Amatharian home. And those Amatharians who work in an office, are pleased to receive visitors themselves. The door was opened and we were admitted to the room. Inside we found a magnificent hall, the center point of which was a great long table of carved wood, lined on either side by forty heavy wooden chairs. One entire wall of the room was glass, and looked over the courtyard that was the most impressive feature of the building. The other wall was lined with banners, each carrying the crest of a knight of the Sun Clan.

Four Amatharians waited for us within the room. The man who opened the door was the tallest man that I had yet met, something over seven and a half feet. Just looking at him frightened me. I could imagine how an enemy facing him felt. He was middle-aged, with streaks of grey shooting through his straight black hair. His hawkish nose and a large scar across one cheek, gave him the look of a predator. He was clad in the garments of a knight, though his tabard was fringed with gold trim; his crest was an eye with a flaming sun as its pupil. He was Reyno Hissendar, Norar Remontar's uncle, and the chief of the Hissendar Trading Group.

The second fellow was equally impressive, though not because of height. He was a formidably muscular man with a piercing gaze and a tightly set jaw. His tabard was fringed with gold, and his crest showed a flaming sun within a circle. His bodysuit wasn't black though, it was tan. I had seen Knights in other colors, Nicohl Messonar for instance, wearing the colors of a teacher. Tan was the traditional color of archaeologists. He was Vandan Lorrinos, a highly respected member of the Sun Clan, and a fleet commander.

The third person in the room was a woman. She was a breathtakingly beautiful older version of Vena Remontar, or for that matter, of the Princess. She was just over six feet tall, with long straight black hair framing her beautiful dark blue face. She had the same stern look about her that I had found in Nicohl Messonar, and the same ability to seemingly look into a person's heart. She stared at me with what I thought was a look of more than simple appraisal. She was the mother of Vena Remontar and the aunt of Norar Remontar, and her name was Mindana Remontar. She wore a bodysuit and tabard, but without the crest, indicating she was not a knight. Her bodysuit was dark blue, marking her profession as biologist.

The final individual in the room was the man for whom I had been summoned--the Overlord of the Sun Clan, Nevin Lorrinos. There was no doubt that he was Norar Remontar's grandfather, for he was tall and handsome, with the same prominent features and the same noble bearing. He wore a great black robe with a golden crest above the heart--crossed swords over a flaming sun, the same crest that Noriandara Remontar had worn. I bowed low to him.

"Greetings knight," he said.

"Yes," said Mindana Remontar. "You have certainly wasted no time integrating yourself into our culture."

"I was drawn to Garden of Souls when I came near," I said. "Of course I still have much to learn about Amathar, but I already know that I want to make a place for myself here." Vandan Lorrinos grunted approvingly.

"That is one of the things I wish to speak to you about," said Nevin Lorrinos. "You are without a family, which is a great handicap for you. But my heir tells me that he thinks you are worthy and a good friend and I trust his judgment. For that reason, I would like to offer you a place in the Sun Clan."

"Thank you," I replied. "I already feel a strong connection, since all of my Amatharian friends are from the Sun Clan."

"Then it is done. The other reason for this meeting," he continued, "is that we are about to make an assault on the Zoasians."

"The fleet is ready?"

"We are awaiting the final squadron. There will be four such squadrons of twelve ships each. Vandan Lorrinos and Reyno Hissendar will each command one squadron, and Norar Remontar will make the third his first command. The fourth squadron, under the command of Ulla Yerrontis will arrive at 01096. We will leave at 01097."

"Are you sure that forty eight ships are enough?" I asked. "I would have thought that the city of Amathar could muster a larger fleet, and from what I could see, the Zoasians will be no easy conquest."

"The Sun Clan has four hundred vessels, and some of the other clans boast equally large fleets," Norar Remontar explained, "but Ecos is a very large place, and the ships are spread far and wide. It is an almost unprecedented event to have forty eight ships in one assault."

"As for the Zoasians," said Nevin Lorrinos. "Mindana Remontar assures us that this force will be sufficient. She is the foremost authority on Zoasians."

I turned to Vena Remontar's mother.

"The Zoasians have a very odd culture," she said. "They are obsessed with the acquiring of territory, as if territory could be possessed. They construct many small cities and place them strategically around this territory, and when they expand their territory, they build additional cities. Their forces tend to be even more dispersed than ours, for they constantly fear that a portion of their land will be invaded."

"The closest Zoasian city to the site of the Princess's abduction is Zonamis, which is one of the two closest Zoasian cities to Amathar. It is nine hundred fifty thousand miles away."

"That is a long way off," I said. "It will take a long time to get there."

"Yes," agreed Norar Remontar, "but since it is so far away, the Zoasian ship may still be en route. Considering the amount of damage it sustained, we may even arrive in Zonamis first."

"This brings us to another important point," said Vandan Lorrinos. "What was a Zoasian battle cruiser doing so close to the city of Amathar?"

"It is no doubt they were up to some mischief," said Nevin Lorrinos. "That is another reason we are only committing four squadrons to the assault on Zonamis. The remainder of our available ships will be sweeping a circumference of one hundred thousand miles, looking for any Zoasian attack. We have sent two battleships to the Mountains of the Orlons to secure the Elder Gods site you found, and we have alerted the other Clans to be prepared to protect the city.”

I left the meeting mentally vowing to use my time in Amathar to best advantage. I went to see Nicohl Messonar to receive my next lesson in Amatharian reading. She was, as I had assumed she would be, moderately disgusted that I had missed the earlier appointment, but she still enthusiastically provided me with tutoring, and several talking pads with my next lessons on them. I told her I would seek her out on my return to the city and continue my lessons. As I was preparing to leave, she pressed her cheek to mine, and bid me farewell.

Returning to Norar Remontar's apartments, I found my Amatharian friend waiting for me. He had assembled a large selection of Amatharian gear.

"What's all this then?" I asked.

"I realized that you needed some equipment for the expedition, since you have nothing of your own," he replied. "Of course, now that you are a member of the Sun Clan, it is the duty of our clothiers and outfitters to see that you have everything you need."

There were a dozen or more black bodysuits in my size, several new pairs of black boots, and a large duffle bag-like piece of luggage which Amatharians use to carry their clothing. Beside that lay a warrior's utility belt with many small compartments which had all been filled with the appropriate equipment. Among the devices designed to go into the belt, were tiny first-aid tool which miraculously knitted together skin, and covered it with a clear protective coating, a hand light very much like the one I had seen Norar Remontar use in the caves of the ancient Orlons, and a camera. I could write an entire volume on the Amatharian camera, if I had either the expertise or the inclination to do so. The device itself was about the size of a business card or the calculators of the same size that are common on both Earth and Amathar. It had a square hole in the corner, which served as the camera's viewfinder, and a small button on the back, which served as the shutter release. Other than those two features, the camera seemingly had no other openings or mechanisms. Amatharians take pictures with their cameras, and then when returning home, insert the camera into a device which produces the final photograph. The camera could hold up to one thousand seven hundred twenty eight photographic images before it had to be inserted into the printing device. Once this was done, the camera was ready to be reused.

Although it was very compact and frankly neat looking, the camera was not the truly amazing part of the photographic process. Rather it was the images themselves. When an Amatharian took a picture, he would snap it just like he was using a still picture camera, and the print which was produced was a flat picture--that picture though was an amazing example of three dimensional representation. Even more amazing than that, was the way that the image turned into a short video clip. When the picture was snapped, not only did the camera record the image that was in front of it, but it recorded the last ten minutes or so before the snap! How this was possible, I have no way of knowing. Perhaps it had something to do with the supposed lack of time in Ecos.

Also included in the utility belt gear were a small tool set and several recharge clips for Amatharian light weapons. Norar Remontar had included a rifle and a pistol version of these beautifully crafted weapons. About the only item of clothing not included within the great heap was a tabard. I asked Norar Remontar about this apparent oversight, but he said that the clothiers were simply awaiting my crest design. I took a sheet of the plastic material Amatharians use for paper from the stack I had been using to practice my spelling, and quickly sketched out an idea for a crest. Norar Remontar looked it over, then placed it inside the mail cartridge, and sent it on its way down the pneumatic tube that was the Amatharian postal system.

"We are expected at the Sun Clan warrior's feast at 01094," the Amatharian knight said, as he left about his own business.

I looked at the city-cycle dial and saw that it currently read 01092. I had a little time to myself, so I went to the bathroom, stripped off my clothing, and soaked in the pool. When I felt thoroughly waterlogged and pruned, I climbed out, dressed in one of the new bodysuits, and sat down to practice my reading skills. This time I chose a book on wildlife in the area of Amathar. I just happened to turn to the page on the stummada. When I had just finished that section, Norar Remontar returned, this time with Malagor in tow.

It seemed as though I had not seen Malagor in months, and his grinning face brought a flood of good feelings to me. Though we had both been staying in the same apartment, his path seemed not to have crossed my own. He had spent most of his time in Amathar site-seeing, but he had taken the time, as had I, to get cleaned up and re-outfitted. He now wore the bodysuit of an Amatharian, though it pushed in his fur, and made him look much smaller than he previously had, and the explosion of furry tufts around his wrists made his hands look gargantuan. His bodysuit was light green denoting a trader, and I thought he must have taken this as a representation of what his life was under the Malagor, for I couldn't imagine him taking up a new profession at this point in time. He also had the blank white tabard of a swordsman, but his crouching shoulders made it hang a bit too high in the back, and a bit too low in the front. Norar Remontar handed me a package. I opened the wrapping to find five brand new white tabards. Each one was carefully fringed with gold all around the edge.