March Upcountry

Set into it, again, was another of those odd doors like the entrance to their visitors' quarters. Low enough to require a Mardukan to duck to enter it, it not only put a visitor's head in position to be opened up like an egg, but also symbolically caused him to bow to the holder of the House.

The lower portal opened to reveal another impassive guard. This worthy waved them in, and they entered one by one. Unlike Mardukans, the humans could walk through standing up.

The interior was similar to a series of concentric Roman villas. The outer wall held inward-facing rooms on all levels, but there was also an "i

The guard led them through the gardens and from there into the i

Gulyas had the spiel down pat now and nodded to Julian, who began laying out samples.

"As you know, Sir," the lieutenant began, "we are visitors from a far land. The items that we carry are very few, but of such surpassing workmanship that each is, in itself, a jewel of craftsmanship."

Julian had laid out the chameleon cloth, and now began demonstrating the utility of the multitool. The part that got to the Kl'ke was the same as the one which had so intrigued all the house-leaders: the final "blade" function which cut cleanly and easily through one of the soft iron spearheads.

"There are only a limited number of each of these items, and when they're gone, they're gone. We'll be holding an auction for each of them," the lieutenant continued as Julian demonstrated Eterna-lights and fuelless lighters.

"The auction is to be held in the public square on the fifth of T'Nuh." That was six days from now; time enough for the Houses to conspire to cheat them if they so chose. Of course, the humans would be listening to every word if they did.

"In conclusion," Gulyas said, stepping forward, "let me offer you this lighter. It is useful for starting any type of fire, and is impervious to wind."

The lieutenant demonstrated this time, ensuring that the bug was well and truly planted on the alien. He'd let Julian plant the others, but he wanted to do at least one himself.

"Does the Kl'ke have any questions?"

The Mardukan thumbed the lighter and held it to a piece of the local paper until it flamed. He put the small fire out quickly, and cocked his head at the humans.

"You say 'not many' of these devices," he said, gesturing with the technological artifact. "How many is 'not many'?"

"That hasn't yet been determined," Gulyas admitted. "For the multitools, somewhere between seven and twelve."

"Ah." The house-leader made a Mardukan gesture of agreement. "Not many, indeed. Very well, I shall ensure that a factor is present to bid and has full instructions."

"Thank you, Sir," Gulyas said. "And, of course, most of the money will be coming back to Q'Nkok. We'll be purchasing food, equipment, and pack beasts for our long journey."

"Ah, yes." The Mardukan lord grunted a laugh. "Your quest for fabled Voitan."

"It isn't actually Voitan we seek, Sir," Gulyas corrected tactfully. "But from Voitan there are routes to the northeast. Thus we must pass near Voitan."

"Well, it's still a waste of good transport," the Mardukan said with another grunt. He seemed undisturbed by their probable death. "But I have a full stable of the beasts. The best in the city."

"We'll keep that in mind," the lieutenant said, bowing his way out of the room.

"See that you do," the house-leader snapped as he went back to his ledger.

Roger looked into the distorted mirror and turned his head to the side. The ponytail left hair dangling everywhere, especially in this damp heat. What he really needed was a braid but there was a problem with that. Finally, he took two more leather ties and wrapped the ponytail in the middle and at the bottom. Now if they'd just stay in place, his damned hair would stay out of his face.

The knock on the door was followed by its opening so quickly that the two blended. He spun in place to scorch whoever it was, but paused when he saw that it was Despreaux. Just because he was having a bad hair day didn't mean the sergeant should be blasted.

"What?" Unfortunately, the question came out before he could control his irritated tone. So even without meaning to, he managed to sound like a jerk.

"Captain Pahner has called a meeting for 14:30," the sergeant replied blandly.

"Thank you, Sergeant!" the prince snapped, then sighed. "Let me try that again, if you don't mind. Thank you, Sergeant."

"You're welcome, Your Highness," the Marine said as she closed the door.

"Sergeant?" the prince called hesitantly. They were going to be on this planet for a long time, and he might as well bite the bullet on this one.

"Yes, Your Highness?" Despreaux replied, opening the door again.

"Could I have a moment of your time?" Roger asked, quite sweetly.

"Yes, Your Highness?" the sergeant repeated rather more warily as she stepped into the room.

"If you don't mind," Roger said, clearing his throat, "this is somewhat private. Could you close the door?"

Despreaux did, then crossed her arms.

"Yes, Your Highness?" she said for a third time.

"I know you're not a servant," the prince said, fiddling with his hair, "but I have a little problem." He took a deep breath and went on despite the hammerlike look on the sergeant's face. "It's something I can't do for myself: Could you possibly braid my hair for me?"

"There's no reason for them to notice the plant, Sir," Julian said as they walked away from the building.

"So why am I drenched in sweat?" Gulyas asked.

"Because... it's hot?" Julian suggested with a smile. "Sir?"

Gulyas smiled at the NCO's quip and stopped to look back at the building.

"What do you think?" he asked quietly. As long as they used Standard, no one was going to be able to know what they were talking about. But it never hurt to be careful.

"Like shooting fish in a barrel, Sir," Julian responded. "Two exits. Complex interior, but not bad. All the guard rooms at the front, servants at the back, family in the middle. If we need to take one, or even two or three, it won't be much of an op." He paused and then continued ruminatively. "Of course, it would use up ammo."

"Not much," Gulyas responded. "Okay, only three more to go. You can plant those; that was too much fun for me."

"Ah, that's nothing, Sir. Did I ever tell you about the time I stole a space limo?"

"You never learned how to braid your own hair?" Despreaux asked. The prince had the best hair she'd ever run across, solid without being too coarse, and long as a Mardukan day. "This is gorgeous stuff."

"Thanks," Roger said calmly. He wasn't about to tell the sergeant how sensuous it felt to have her brushing it. "Just another legacy of illegal gene engineering."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Oh, yeah," Roger said ruefully. "No question. I've got the twitch muscles of a shark, the reactions of a snake, and way more endurance than I ought to have. Somebody on either Mommy or Daddy's side, or both, did a lot of engineering back in the Dagger Years, but I guess anyone who had the cash would have done the same thing then, rules or no rules. I even got enhanced night vision out of it."