Cats in Space and Other Places by Bill Fawcett (best book recommendations txt) 📗

of Nide. A small patch of lawn ran up to Ki's doors, across the way to another set of doors, then jumped the small stream that trickled through the garden to end in a riot of flowers that had once only grown on Ki's planet. The stream, though small, provided the sound of running water as it splashed down over a small waterfall of rocks and dropped away over the open wall at the end of the garden that overlooked the city of Osaka. As this palace stood on a promontory that once held a medieval castle, the view into the city was magnificent, and Ki frequently watched the sun rise over the small wall.

The weapons range was a busy place just now. The junior Lionmen were attempting to move up their ratings. The quiet "pffuft" of the weapons was coming repeatedly, as were the blinding flashes of harsh white light. Mikal Lawwnum, Ki's marital line nephew, long ago found that he no longer heard the sound, but the light still disturbed him, partly because it was so intense and partly because it always reminded him of the brilliance of Nide's sun. He continued to walk the line, stopping at each man, watching, correcting, checking, making certain that they would be ready for Captain Res's inspection. Most had improved markedly. The rest would probably never improve. But even at their current stage, they were better than you'd find anywhere else in the Empire. Of course, Mikal realized, that would not be good enough for the Commander. He would keep them at it till most of them would be able to hit their marks dead center 99 times out of 100, and then push them for the extra 1. And if Ki didn't, he, Mikal, would.

"Aallaard Lawwnum."

Mikal had been watching a young Nidean ready his weapon. He responded automatically with, "Det," then looked up, surprised at being addressed in Nidean.

"Aallaard Lawwnum, why do we practice with these . . . things," asked Private Leenoww very formally while he held the small box that was the energy weapon extended on the palm of his hand. "There is no honor bound to this thing. Only a sword has honor."

Mikal considered his answer carefully, wanting very much to say the right thing for once. "Private," he answered in common, "the sword is the more elegant weapon, and certainly the sword is more useful than that," he gestured disdainfully at the energy weapon, "in a ship where one shot with one of those can rupture the hull and kill all aboard. But you must understand that these can kill, too, and at long range. There will be times when you will be asked to use them. Certainly you must understand them. But I will never ask you to give them the respect that you give your blade."

The young private considered what the Lieutenant had said, then nodded sagely. "As you say, Lieutenant. It is good to practice."

Mikal was elated. This time, it seemed, he'd said exactly the right thing.

The Empress, dressed most delicately in a blue floor- length dress that sparkled when she moved, stood watching her husband's Lionmen from a balcony, guarded and accompanied only by Commander Ki. She frequently reviewed the men from this perch which was located on the rear side of the palace and ran in an "L" around two walls, one facing the weapons range, the other an enclosed drill field. It gave her the opportunity to be alone (except for the company of Commander Ki, of course, but he could be as talkative or as still as she wished) if she so desired. Today she was tired of everyone with whom she had regular contact, and worried, very worried. Too many things preyed on her mind, too many things happened much too quickly. She wanted very much to hear Ki's voice so full of quiet confidence. But instead of asking him to talk, to tell her of the goings on in the palace to which an Empress is never privy, she spoke.

"Take care of the Princess." The Silk was the very one Ki had used to wipe his sword at Natanha's birth. The blood of the Princess and the Empress still stained it.

Standing fully and correctly erect, Ki answered, "You know I have sworn to do so." Then he leaned down to put his elbow on the railing so that his face would be more on a level with Elena's, and so that she would know they were now speaking as friend to friend. "Afraid of rebels?"

Elena sighed heavily and grabbed the ornate, cast iron rail with both hands. She stood looking out over the firing range for some time without speaking. Then she shook a fold of her skirt and smoothed it. Finally, she turned to Ki. "We live in interesting times, my friend."

"Indeed." Ki noticed the deepening mauve circles under her eyes. They vaguely resembled the markings of the Didentaar, a Pride which had special attachments to the Lawwnum. Where Ki had found the markings beautiful on Nideans, they were wrong, even ugly, on Elena. And there were tiny lines around her mouth that told she had been frowning a great deal. He hoped she would say more, but she merely continued to stare out at the bright white flashes beneath her. Sensing that, more than anything, she wanted to be truly alone, he said, "I will leave you, Highness. Your guard will be outside the door. You know I am yours to command," and he withdrew.

Ki left Elena feeling very uneasy. It was obvious to any who cared to look that she was worried. It was in every aspect of her, her sleepy-looking eyes, her mouth, her very stance. And that had never been like Elena. Even when she had first come here, hardly more than a child, as soon as she saw that Ozenscebo did not see to his duties, she stepped in and worked at making things right. Had she stopped working? Stopped fighting? It