Storms Over Open Fields




A scorching sun blazed down from a perfectly clear blue sky. 
Drifting pollen and the glittering specks of droning and darting 
insects filled the air that shimmered in the heat rising from the 
earth. I ran. Golden grass and packed dirt pounded under my 
feet, puffs of warm dust coating my legs. Heat sucked rivulets 
of sweat that evaporated almost immediately from my bare 
shoulders. I drew lungfuls of hot spring air and leaned into the 
corner, trying to keep the pace up. 
	The big cat chasing a few steps behind snarled and 
coughed. Teeth flashed in the gaping maw, a strand of spittle 
dangling from the jaw. Claws in the broad toes caught the turf 
as the long legs flashed, the tail lashing for balance as he 
drew closer in a burst of speed that proved to be the final 
straw. His gait faltered as he staggered and dropped aside. I 
turned to see him bending over with hands on knees as he 
wheezed.
	"Rot you," I heard him gasp between breaths. 
"Enough!"
	"Come on," I grinned, jogging in place. "That was only 
three laps. You did better last time."
	Chaeitch hissed something obscene, flagged me away 
with a disgusted wave before sprawling himself out in the 
shade of the old pine. Turning himself into a bundle of tawny 
gold almost lost against the summer-burnt grass.
	I went to do another three laps of the field.
Chaeitch ah Ties. He wasn't human, but he was one of the 
oldest friends I had in this world; one of the few Rris I felt I 
could genuinely catalogue as 'friend'. We'd met during my 
early days in the alien city of Shattered Water, when we'd been 
thrust together in a working relationship that hadn't been entire 
amicable. Things had changed. He'd been open-minded toward 
me, someone to talk to. We'd become drinking buddies and I'd 
found he was quite willing to help me, to answer the questions 
I had about his world. Amused and bemused at times, 
certainly, but not judgemental. Now, we still worked together, 
but I'd come to consider him a good friend.
	What he considered me was a little more  difficult to 
define. Rris minds don't work like human ones. Yet he acted 
like a friend, so that's the slot I filed him under.
	Rris. What to say about Rris? They're evolved felines, 
that's a good start. Whereas back home apes had clambered 
and screeched to sapient ascendancy, here a species of proto-
feline had made the same transition to tool user. They're 
superficially similar to lynxes, with the same tufted feline 
features. But to say they're lynxes is to say that humans are 
chimpanzees. There's a family resemblance, but so much 
variation.
	They have tails: sinewy tufted things that are as much 
a mirror of their emotions as our faces. They walk on two legs 
with a springing, toe-balanced gait and while their stamina 
leaves a bit to be desired, they are capable of amazing bursts 
of speed that would make a human Olympic sprinter want to 
rethink his career choices. Their fur and coloration can differ 
wildly depending on geographical adaptation. And they have 
needle teeth and razor claws, as the many scars I carry can 
testify.
	They're a sharp people. And here they're people; 
they're the norm and I'm the exception.
	How did I come here?
	To tell the truth, I haven't the foggiest fucking idea. 
Whatever happened to me is something so far outside of my 
experience that I can't even hazard a guess. Two years ago I 
was hiking in Vermont and something happened. There was an 
accident of somekind that I only have the vaguest memories 
of, a massive discharge, a flash of light. When I woke, I was 
elsewhere, I was here. Things sort of snowballed from there.
	Two years later I was stripped to the waist in the heat, 
jogging around one of the fields behind my more-than-
adequate house. Chaeitch lounged in the shade under the tree, 
guzzled water and panted furiously as I pushed myself around 
the last two laps. He'd joined me on these workouts several 
times, but he never really seemed to get the point. So he 
blinked lazily as I eased on down and stretched, sweat rolling 
over old scars and war wounds, then wandered over to the 
parallel bar under the tree.
	"You've changed a lot," he mused, looking me up and 
down. I could see his eyes flickering over the network of scars 
that covered me. "You're bigger than you used to be."
	"Huhn," I grinned as I jumped up to catch the polished 
wooden bar. He was probably right. I never used to be able to 
do thirty pullups. No cars, TV, fast foods or other modern 
amenities really helped you get in shape. And there were other 
incentives to bulk up a little. "Clean living and being chased by 
Rris does that to you."
	He didn't laugh at that.
Oh yeah. My first few months, the first year here, had been 
something of a trial. The situation, the demands put on me, the 
assassination attempts... the world around me had all become 
too much. I'd cracked. Big time. That was another scar across 
my wrist.
Things had changed for the better. For the most part.
	He watched as I repeatedly lifted my chin over the bar. 
"That's really supposed to be good for you?"
	"Uh-huh," I grunted.
	He snorted and plucked a strand of grass, gnawed the 
end. "Looks far too strenuous to be healthy. And you're leaking 
badly. I can smell it already."
	I dropped back down. I could have probably done more, 
but after a certain amount of activity that old wound through my 
shoulder starts to play up. I flexed the muscle and winced 
slightly, then wiped sweat from my face and regarded the Rris. 
About five foot of bipedal feline. Average height for his race. 
His tawny furred body didn't sweat, except on the pads of the 
feet and hands, but he did pant like a steam engine in hot 
weather. He'd stripped his expensive clothes off for that run. 
Right off. They don't have problems with nudity as even 
unclothed a Rris tends to be about as naked as an Eskimo in 
full winter dress. Male genitalia are tucked away in a sheath 
and held closer to the body, hidden away in thicker fur of the 
belly that continues down to the groin. Chaeitch did decorate 
his hide though. There were little geometric curlicues and 
sigils shaven into the fur of his chest and shoulders and three 
small black dyed bands wrapped around each forearm. To my 
eyes, the lopsided blaize across his left ear was his most 
distinctive feature.
	"Hot for you?" I smiled.
	He grinned back, bearing his teeth in a smile that was a 
mockery of mine. "Wait till winter."
	"Touché. At least I can put more clothes on. You'll have 
to shave to take any more off."
	"Then I'd look like you!" He coughed in mock-disgust. 
"No thank you. I'll suffer."
	I laughed. "Would you at least accept a drink?"
	"I think that I can manage. I heard rumors about an old 
Swampy River you received."
	"You're well informed."
	He lolled his tongue. Or maybe he was merely panting. 
"H'risnth does seem to favor you."
	"In that case, so do most of the rulers of all the other 
kingdoms," I sighed. " Kistrechiha sent me a tapestry. Very 
impressive and very blatant."
	"Saaa," he hissed. "The price we pay."
	"Your sympathy is underwhelming."
	He chittered as I caught up my gear then fell in 
alongside as we headed on down through the grove of bent old 
windbreak trees to the lakeshore.
	"What about those mills you're putting up over there," 
he asked, pointing along the waterfront.
	"Still got a lot of work to do," I said. "It's tricky. Get a 
good storm and they'll tear themselves apart. There're ways of 
designing the blades so they don't spin too fast and that's the 
hard part."
	"Huhn," he mused and I saw his jaw drop a little. It was 
like that unfocused look a sort of human tends to get when they 
devote too much cerebral processing  time to a problem. 
Chaeitch was that sort of Rris. He'd go after a problem like a 
terrier after a rabbit. But he blinked out of it, which either meant 
he'd solved it there and then or filed it for future reference. 
"And all those copper wires you're playing around with? 
Eserisity?"
	"Electricity," I corrected.
	He coughed in exasperation and didn't even attempt 
the correct English pronunciation. "You're going to have to find 
something else to call it," he hissed as we dropped down the 
storm-eroded embankment onto the stone beach. The water I'd 
once known as Lake Eerie slap-slapped onto the sun warm 
stones, a terminator of dark wet rocks marking the waterline. 
Chaeitch just dabbled his feet and hands. I shucked my 
moccasins and dove right in.
	No ozone depletion. No toxic industrial dumping, no 
nonbiodegradable litter, no pollution - save the biological 
runoff from a city of half a million Rris a few kilometers away. I 
was pretty sure the lake could handle that. At least that's what I 
told myself.
	But it was wet and cold and got that dried sweat out of 
my eyes and hair. Chaeitch tossed pebbles at a bobbing stick 
and watched in amusement as I ducked and dove for a while. 
Rris aren't great swimming enthusiasts. The last one I'd tried 
to teach to swim...
	I floated in memories for a few minutes before wading 
out.
	"Half ape, half fish," Chaeitch  said and skipped a stone 
while I pulled my footwear on again. "How are those paintings 
going?" he asked.
	"Slowly," I said. "The paints are difficult to use. I might 
have to stick to charcoal for a while." That was true. The locally 
available media was a pain to use: more temperamental than 
egg tempera, and they had to be made up from scratch. No 
handy tubes of Winsor and Newton acrylic or guache here.
	"A? You know Rraerch and Rasa are interested? They 
liked those other portraits you did. You could be starting 
another fad. Hai, speaking of which, there's another play at the 
Resound."
	"Not... one of those?"
	He grinned.
	I rolled my eyes and moaned, "Oh, Christ, it is, isn't it."
	He cocked his head and chittered a laugh. I hoped he 
was right and they were a fad. I'd been to one before and had 
been surprised, amused and more than a little embarrassed. 
And if rumors could be believed, some of the other skits 
coming out of the thespian woodwork made that one seem 
tame.
	The breeze off the lake was cool but the sun was hot 
enough to roast the worst of the water from me and my shorts 
while we wandered back down the beach to the house. Days off 
here tended to be very slow and filled with nothing in 
particular, which we discussed at great length as we headed 
back home.
	It was a nice place. It was a damn sight larger than 
anything I could have afforded back home. Set back from the 
lakeshore behind a windbreak of aged conifers, it was a 
rambling two, sometimes three-story construction of dark 
weatherboards, slates, towers and garrets with attic rooms and 
windows in the oddest places. It was big, but it didn't have any 
of the modern construction techniques or amenities and it'd 
been built to accommodate Rris stature, which tended to the 
small side. I'd already got carpenters in to make modifications 
including raising ceilings and doorways so I wouldn't concuss 
myself. There was wetback hot water and central heating and 
the insulation would be in before winter. Hopefully. And also 
hopefully, sometime soon, there'd also be electric lighting. 
Candles and oil and gas lamps are atmospheric, but the 
novelty quickly palls.
	There were two Rris waiting for us on the back 
verandah. Tichirik was perfectly poised, perfectly groomed, 
quietly standing with a neatly-folded change of clothes in her 
arms and water on the table. Impeccable timing as usual. As 
the household major domo cum butler she managed the rest of 
the household servants and seemed to always be there when I 
needed her. Damn good at her job and doubtless a government 
spy. I was pretty sure that nothing went on in that house that 
wasn't reported in triplicate to an office somewhere in the 
Palace.
	The adolescent Rris with her wore the tunic of a palace 
messenger and a flustered expression. He stared at me.
	"And I thought cell phones were bad," I sighed to 
Chaeitch. "At least they don't hunt you down. Now what?"
	"Sirs," Tich greeted us. "I trust you had a good 
constitutional."
	"Very good, thank you," I smiled as I accepted the fresh 
clothes. Chaeitch made a noncommittal grunting sound. 
"What's this about?" I gestured at the page who was still 
staring. New, I'd bet.
	His ears went flat , but he stepped forward. "Sir... a 
message from the palace. Important. His highness requests 
your presence at your earliest convenience."
	"Translation: now," I rolled my eyes. "Chaeitch, I'm 
sorry, but that drink's going to have to wait."
"All that running for nothing?!" Chaeitch moaned.
"All right, you incorrigible alcoholic. We should be able to find 
something. Tich, there was that bottle opened last night. Can 
you find it?"
I really don't know if that corruption of her name annoyed 
Tichirik. If it did, she didn't bat an eye; just said, "Of course, 
Sir."

------w-----

The carriage waiting for me was from the Palace. As one might 
expect, it was an elegant affair: a closed cab riding on four 
iron-bound, wood-spoked wheels on leaf suspension. Intricate 
designs were carved into the wooden exterior panels while the 
brass fittings for lamps and handles were polished to a mirror 
finish that glared in the sunlight. With the Rris driver in his 
tooled leather tunic high on the drivers bench and the two elk 
in the traceries, the whole thing looked like something from a 
gothic fairy tale.
I still get those moments where a sight like that clashes my 
mental gears.
	The trip through a Shattered Water lazing under a early 
summer heatwave was another sort of trip. Cobbles rattled 
under the iron wheels as we skirted outlying fringes of the city, 
inward bound. We passed by the smaller buildings and 
houses with their blank facades and shadowy tunnels leading 
through to the central atrium. Passed by the cheaper buildings 
with tilted walls skinned with peeling whitewash over wattle 
and daub, unglazed windows, roofing tiles that were wood and 
fragments of slate and stone rather than ceramic, patches of 
grass growing high in guttering where airborne seeds had 
taken root. Arterial streets and open spaces were clotted by 
impromptu markets: clusters of awnings and shades where 
smoky fires burned, Rris voices hissed and snarled and the 
smells of foods, livestock, and chemicals etched the air.
	Further in toward the heart the city changed to reflect 
the fortunes of the inhabitants. Some buildings were several 
stories high. Cheap whitewash gave way to stone, mortar and 
brick, red tile and elegant facades with painted woodwork and 
murals and shiny metal plaques on the walls of the guild halls. 
Glass glittered in narrow windows and elegantly dressed Rris 
went about their business. The roads became avenues, cutting 
in toward the hub of the central square with its fountains and 
trees. From there it was north along the shaded avenue, past 
the old remains of the curtain wall, through the upmarket 
section of the Rock -  or the Nipple. Nomenclature depended on 
which side of the poverty line you were standing. 
	Surrounding the Palace grounds was a black wrought-
iron fence with gilded spiked fanciness adorning the top. The 
cleared ground on either side was a new addition, instituted 
following some security breaches. Inside that, the grounds 
were expansive, with forests and wild meadows and streams 
leading off to the lakeshore to the west. The Palace itself 
lounged amidst that: huge and sprawling, an edifice of 
thousands of rooms and halls that was to Rris Land-of-Water 
architecture what Versailles is to human.
	The façade was a barrage of windows and glass, 
hundreds of them gleaming as the sun caught them just right. 
Walls of pale stone blocks were sectioned by columns rising 
to frescoed gables supporting a copper roof painted green by 
the elements. It was a construction that spoke of elegance and 
dignity and a refinement beyond the brute bulk of a fortress. 
But it didn't speak it with a human tongue.
	It was the same sensation I get when looking at Rris 
artwork. Their golden ratio isn't the human one. Proportions 
they find pleasing aren't the same as the ones I do. They don't 
even perceive the world in the same way or through the same 
equipment. The architect had used numbers and alignments 
that just seemed ever so subtly wrong to my eyes.
	As did the wild lawns and meadows where golden wind-
rippled grasses grew knee-high. The grounds were all carefully 
tended, they just didn't look it.
	The oak avenue of the driveway swept up to a gravel 
loop at the front steps. The main doors did look like they 
belonged on a fortress - it turns out that's exactly where they 
came from. Of course the guards stared as they always did, 
but by now they were accustomed enough to my presence to 
just watch me. Just inside the doors Kh'hitch of Woodmaker, 
king's liaison and personal dogsbody was waiting. All of him. 
He still hadn't lost any weight. He always reminded me of a 
snooty plush toy dressed by a mad tailor with a penchant for 
bloused sleeves and bright colors.
	He was good at his job though.
	"Mikah, you're wet," he sniffed, looking me up and 
down. "And you could have dressed."
	"I don't spend my days off sitting around in my finery 
waiting for a call from you," I said pointedly. "I was under the 
impression this was important?"
	"Huhn," he huffed. "His highness wishes to speak with 
you."
	"Oh, joy."
	"Mikah," he warned.
	"Why, Kh'hitch, your nostrils are flaring."
	He took a deep breath then turned and led the way. 
Unnecessary, I knew it well enough by then.
	The Palace was as impressive on the inside as it was 
on the outside. But then, it was designed to be. The commonly 
traveled routes, those seen by outsiders, were elegant in the 
extreme. There were chandeliers and artworks of all sorts 
including indoor windchimes of crystal I couldn't hear and 
wood carvings that were supposed to carry ancient scents I 
couldn't smell. Paintings of landscapes and portraits were 
displayed in frames far more subdued than the gilt rococo 
monstrosities human artists seem so enamoured of. Walls 
were papered in fine embossed velvet or satin in different 
hues and textures; floors inlaid with parquetry made from 
individual splinters of wood.
	Less traveled routes were merely elegant. 
	My moccasins were almost soundless against the floor 
while Rris footsteps tended to clatter slightly as claws ticked 
against the floor. At least while I was around they tended to.
	There were always guards around the King's offices. 
They were wearing leather armor and polished ceremonial 
breastplates, and I couldn't help but notice they still carried the 
old flintlocks and edged weapons. I supposed the Land-of-
Water Rris were still sensitive enough about the leakage of 
arms information to outside countries that they kept the more 
advanced weapons under wraps. Who guarded the guards? 
Huhn.
 	The king's office had always struck me as odd. It was a 
huge, white room in the southeastern corner of the east wing. 
Almost all the room was white marble and pale stone, save for 
the desk on the patch of carpet over in the far corner. The 
french windows along the outer walls provided a great view of 
the Palace grounds, as well as a breeze. That room might have 
been cool in summer, but in winter it was frigid. At least to my 
sensibilities it was.  Yet another example of how a species' 
needs dictates its design requirements.
	The figure was seated at the low desk, bent over 
scribbling smoothly with a fountain pen. Kh'hitch just left me 
standing there and retreated quietly, closing the double doors 
behind him.
	I strolled over to the desk and stood waiting for about a 
minute while the Rris king finished etching chicken-scratches 
across the page, blotted the ink, then folded the paper and 
sealed it with wax. Then Hirht sat back on his cushion and 
cocked his head at me. "Hello, Mikah."
	"You paged me?"
	"I sent for you, if that's what you mean. Yes. I'm sorry 
to disturb you on your day off. You were running again?"
	"Yes, sir."
	"I heard you've dragged ah Ties into it?"
	Now, how had he heard that? "I had to threaten him with 
wine. He gave in."
	He smiled. "At least you're in one of your good moods. 
There are a few things I want to talk to you about. You know 
that there have been frictions with more than a few of our 
neighbors. There have been claims that we are 'monopolizing 
a unique asset'. Some of them are becoming quite 
<something> in their protests."
	I frowned. "I'm sorry, Sir. I don't know that word... 
hesira..."
	"Hesirethir'k," he gestured. "Loud, continual, 
outspoken."
	Oh. Vociferous. "I understand."
	"You understand that that sort of situation is dangerous 
for all involved? Especially you."
	"Yes, sir," I sighed. It wasn't an entirely new situation. 
It was something that tended to ebb and flow. Other Powers' 
protests would get louder and louder and Land-of-Water would 
have to make placating gestures. "What are you doing to keep 
them happy?"
	"Oh, not us," he smiled.
	I hesitated. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to 
like this?"
	He gave a dismissive wave. "It's really not so bad. You 
were always wanting to see more of the world, so we're giving 
you a chance. You're going to visit a neighboring kingdom as a 
gesture of goodwill."
	 "Cover-my-Tail?"
	His ears flicked like someone had blown into them. 
"How did you know?"
	"Lucky guess." I probably shouldn't have given that 
away. It was a pretty obvious choice though: an influential 
country, nearby, an already amicable relationship and 
doubtless Land-of-Water was looking for a allies they could 
call on if other Realms started putting diplomatic pressure on 
them. Cover-my-Tail was a prime candidate. 
	 "Huhn," he looked at me curiously. "Good guess. Yes. 
You will be guests of H'risnth for a while. She has graciously 
agreed to accommodate you while you discuss business. 
There will of course be a pre-drawn agenda."
	"'Guests'," I noticed. "Plural."
	"Ah Ties and aesh Smither will be accompanying you. 
They're both quite used to handling you. Ah Ties has logistical 
details to negotiate and we decided that aesh Smither will be a 
good tutor for you. There are some matters we think it would 
not be.... ah.... politic for you to discuss."
	"Ah. You don't want me selling them plans for a 
hydrogen bomb?"
	I saw muscles in his face lock as he forced his ears to 
stand still. "That would be of use to them?"
	"Very limited use."
	"Ah," his amber eyes stared at my face, his head 
twitching as he seemed to try and read me. "You  know this is 
a very serious matter."
	"It always seems to be," I sighed. "You are on friendly 
terms with Cover-my-Tail? This isn't going to degrade into 
some political fiasco?"
	"Very friendly terms," he stood and turned to gaze out a 
window at the palace grounds. There were fields of long grass 
out there, rippling in the breeze. "But you still seem to have a 
knack for finding trouble. Mikah, this is a simple trip. It's an 
easy boat ride and then a straight-line talk with their highborn."
	He turned to face me, clasping his hands behind his 
back. "You've met Lady H'risnth before. You got along 
together. She said she finds you quite fascinating, so if you're 
polite and careful there should be no problems. Just a friendly 
chat."
	"And how are the other kingdoms going to feel about 
this?"
	Again he looked a little surprised. "They'll see that 
you're not just working for us."
	"So they'll be expecting me to go on more trips. Will I?"
	"That remains to be seen. This is a test case."
	I nodded. "And how long will this take?"
	"We've allocated three weeks. Three days there at the 
outside, with leeway for bad weather. Two weeks minimum 
there and then three days back." That wasn't unexpected. 
Travel time here is a great deal slower than back home.
	"And I leave?"
	"Day after tomorrow," he said.
	"Short notice." But then I didn't have a great deal to 
pack. "You've been planning this for a while. You could have 
told me earlier."
	"Things have only just been... arranged," he said. 
"There was a great deal of negotiation over time spans and 
access rights. Mikah, you do make this job interesting. Now 
there was one other thing."
 	"Sir?"
	He stepped forward and stopped just in front of me, 
looking up and cocking his head slowly and then abruptly 
grinned. I flinched at the imitation of my smile which was a 
threatening gesture to the Rris.
"None of that," he said, smoothing his muzzle out. "You know 
it causes problems. Just be careful and behave. Thank you."
	That was all. Kh'hitch collected me from the 
antechamber outside the doors and took me to his office. There 
he spent the next three hours going over my itinerary and 
travel arrangements in a great deal more detail.

------v------

	For the past few months my life in Shattered Water had 
been pretty quiet and I certainly wasn't complaining. Since I'd 
arrive there I'd had enough excitement to last three lifetimes. 
I'd seen murder, assassination attempts, kidnappings, threats, 
fights and poisonings. My body was a roadmap of scars and 
knots of tissue where hostile Rris claws had torn at me. Not 
only hostile: some of the pale marks across my back were a 
legacy of my first Rris lover.
	That's still a painful memory.
	Things had quieted considerably over the past couple 
of months. I'd taken the opportunity to try and get my new life 
in order. I'd brought the house by the lakeside. I'd been able to 
absorb myself in my work. In retrospect, I'd been aware of the 
simmering undercurrents of politics, but I'd just been telling 
myself they'd keep to themselves. Of course they'd boil over 
again.
	My work was essentially a transfer of knowledge. The 
information I held in my head and in my laptop might have 
been fairly mundane by my standards, but to the Rris they had 
worth beyond measure. There were technologies, techniques 
and materials they'd never dreamt of; things that could make 
fortunes and countries. In the months since I'd been here their 
steam engine technologies had rocketed from basic single 
expansion to triple-expansion engines built using alloys non-
existent not so long ago; they were harvesting crops using 
automated reapers; all advances that'd taken humans 
centuries.
	And their weapons had undergone radical changes as 
well.
	Just because they're not as educated, doesn't mean 
they're stupid. A lot of Rris are a good deal more intelligent 
than I am. They managed to get weapons information from my 
laptop by hit-and-miss techniques, simply by watching me, 
spying on me, copying the shapes of words and letters.
	Despite PGP encryption and passwords, my system 
was cracked by pre-electrical alien cats who can't even speak 
English.
	It was information a lot of parties would kill for. In fact, 
some did. They threatened me, they threatened Chihirae. It 
wasn't a state I had any wish to return to. If the politcal winds 
were picking up again, I was all for casting some oil on the 
waters.

	My carriage was waiting for me as I stepped out onto 
the front steps of the palace. The sun was high in a brilliant 
sky, coaxing heat-shimmers from the gravel drive. Insects 
buzzed and razzed in the meadows of golden grass that 
rippled like an ocean sunset as a breeze set the stalks to 
swaying. There was a courier message waiting for me: my 
driver relayed the essentials to me in a carefully impartial 
voice. So I couldn't read. It was embarrassing. I was learning, 
but it took time.
	It was from Rraerch aesh Smither. The owner of the 
largest industrial firm in Land-of-Water and the Government's 
principal shipyard contractor. She was also Chaeitch's original 
sponsor and an old acquaintance of mine. She was requesting 
an immediate meeting with me at her offices in town. I didn't 
need the driver's translation to know what this meeting was 
going to be about.
	So much for my day off.

-----v------

	Shattered Water is always an experience. Any large 
Rris town is. It's one thing to look out from the relative 
aloofness of a carriage rattling through the streets, it's quite 
another to get out and walk around those streets. It's a town 
where humans have never even been seen or even conceived 
of, built entirely on alien needs and desires. Form still follows 
function, so there are similarities: sloping roofs to keep the 
rain and snow off; there are windows and doors; there are 
alleys and streets for wheeled vehicles. But all the things that 
should be familiar all have subtle nuances that just seem 
wrong to my senses. The architecture is built for inhabitants 
with smaller statures, so the doors are too small; there are few 
windows on exterior walls; proportion and ornamentation are 
designed for inhuman sensibilities. 
And then there're the crowds of furry bipedal cats all turning to 
stare at me. It's a feeling that's hard to describe: like stage 
fright mixed with a disturbing primal sensation as the ancient 
ape sees the predator's interest. I thought it was something I 
could get used to, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Now 
all I can do is fight that nervousness down.
It's a sensation I feel all too often as I go about my business. I 
felt it when I got out of the carriage in the courtyard of Smither 
Industries. It was a complex of brick buildings with dark slate 
roofs. As with so much Rris architecture the complex turned 
blank brick faces to the outside world, broken only by the 
merest slits of windows. Arched passages led through the 
outer walls to the central courtyards and the planted gardens 
there; the huge windows glazed with panes of new glass. As I 
got out of the carriage I could see Rris around the courtyard 
stopping and looking my way. Even up in the windows curious 
feline faces appeared.
I ignored them as best I could and headed over to where my 
guide was waiting. I'd been there over a dozen times and he 
still looked nervous.
The halls of Smither Industries were busy places. There were 
Rris scurrying around with that odd little scattering sound their 
claws make on hard floors. On the main staircase they hastily 
stepped aside as I made my way up to the third floor. 
Rraerch's offices were elegant, in Rris style. The floors were 
tiled in tan and gold, the walls paneled in light pine and white 
plaster. On either side of the office doors were two pieces of 
what I might normally have considered polished driftwood. 
Apparently they were works of art, imbued with scents from 
distant lands. All utterly undetectable to me.
Rraerch's secretary was at work at his low desk. He looked up 
as I approached and his ears went back flat against his skull. 
He'd always been civil toward me, but his ears had always 
done that: a reflexive Rris anxiety reaction. "Sir," he greeted 
me, "she's expecting you."
"Thank you," I said. "I know the way."
The Rris seated at the low desk turned two pairs of amber eyes 
my way as I stepped through the door to the inner office. 
"Mikah," Rraerch greeted me. "You made good time. Sorry to 
do this to you on your free time."
"Not your fault," I said and glared at the other Rris. "Chaetich, 
thanks a lot. You could have told me."
He tipped his hand in a shrug. "I really didn't know. I was 
preparing for a trip over to Cover-my-Tail and suddenly I'm told 
it's grown into something a good deal more than a property 
inspection deal."
I took a cushion at the desk: one of those uncomfortably low 
tables the Rris favor. They find them quite suited to their 
needs, but I find the experience of sitting on a cushion on the 
floor at a knee-high table uncomfortable, physically and 
psychologically. In a human office the desk is a symbol of 
power and entrenched authority. I suppose the Rris use them 
in the same way: someone sitting on a low cushion is at a 
distinct disadvantage when someone's standing.
At least you could count on Rraerch having good alcohol 
handy. I was actually growing quite partial to some Rris wines, 
and Rraerch had a bottle in a wicker basket sitting on the desk 
alongside an imposing stack of books.
	"So," I said as I settled myself, "what's the deal here? 
You're all suddenly very keen to shift me over to Cover-my-
tail."
	Rraerch snorted, wrinkling her salt-and-pepper 
speckled muzzle and narrowing her yellow-amber eyes. "It's 
simply a friendship visit."
	"Oh? Nothing to do with forging alliances against 
possible political unrest and economic sanctions?"
	She hesitated then blinked. "Hirht told you that?"
	"Not in so many words."
	"Huhn," she glanced at Chaeitch. I suppose the lack of 
phones was something that worked to my advantage in cases 
like that. Hirht couldn't simply call her up and discuss our 
meeting. "I think you're being a bit paranoid, Mikah. It's a 
friendship visit. It'll show that Cover-my-Tail and other 
countries that we aren't monopolizing you. And you'll get a 
chance to see some more of the world."
	Okay. So they didn't have phones, But that didn't mean 
they couldn't work out their spiel beforehand.
	She rolled her glass between stubby fingers and looked 
up at me. "You could simply refuse to go. We wouldn't coerce 
you, but it would make things difficult. There's a lot of pressure 
from other countries for us to... to give them greater access to 
you. This would pop the valve on that pressure for a while."
	"Okay," I nodded. "I'm not against this. It's just very 
sudden."
	"There wasn't a great deal of time to consult you about 
it," she said. "It's an easy journey. Water all the way."
 	That certainly beat a land journey, which would have 
been days of slow, hot, boring and bumpy travel in carriages. 
"He said the two of you are going along. You're supposed to 
be... tutoring me?"
	"Huhn," now her ears went down. "That. Yes, well, 
we've had a lot of dealings with Cover-my-Tail. His highness 
feels that we are the best ones to cram as much information 
into you about Cover-my-Tail as possible. Their geography, 
history, trade and exports."
	"And about the good Lady herself," Chaeitch sighed.
	"She's trouble?" I asked. "I've met her, she seemed 
pleasant enough."
	"She's a very pleasant person," Rraerch said. "She's 
personable, charming, intelligent, and a shaved astute 
business dealer. That's the problem. She could buy your hide 
off your back and sell it back to you before you even noticed. 
That's what his highness wants me to caution you about. I've 
had experience dealing with her and I know some of her 
games, so I can tell you what to watch for."
	"How long's that going to take?"
	She slapped a furry hand down on that stack of books 
on the desk. "We don't have long enough, so I'll have to give 
you the condensed version."
	I winced. Chaeitch clambered to his feet. "It's going to 
be a long night."

------v------

	A bright three-quarter moon hung low in the velvet sky, 
casting a cold  monochromatic glow across the world. The 
slats in the carriage window cut that moonglow into bars of 
shadow and light that fell across the floor and my legs, shifting 
and juddering as the carriage clattered through the nightbound 
streets.
	I just sat back in the upholstered seat and closed my 
eyes, my head still swimming with facts and figures that'd 
been pumped into me for the past seven hours. Things I hadn't 
known, things I'd never wanted to know... the capital was Open 
Fields; the population was about three hundred and seventy 
thousand; main exports were coal and iron ore essential for 
developing industry; ruling lineage was the Esrisa family since 
the Wall wars one hundred and forty years ago; there were 
extensive vineyards along the central river valleys; Reli 
district specialized in expensive inks... and on and on.
 	At least I knew more about Open Fields than I had 
known about Shattered Water when I first arrived. And I'd be 
going in as a guest rather than a curiosity. The itinerary had 
been planned out and from what I'd seen it did seem to be a 
predominantly goodwill visit. I had met her Ladyship before 
and she was a pleasant enough individual. In fact, I quite liked 
her. We'd gotten on well. Although, after what I'd been told that 
night I had to wonder how much of that was good 
salesmanship.
	 The motion of the carriage changed: slowing, turning. 
The clatter of iron-bound wheels on cobblestones turned to the 
muted crunch of gravel and we stopped. I heard muted voices 
and the door was opened.
	"Squad Leader," I said tiredly, not bothering to look 
around.
	"Sir," the commander of the Rris gate contingent 
acknowledged and closed the door again. I had a house of my 
own, but it came along with a small army of guards and 
security checks. Necessary, I supposed. At least they kept the 
curiosity seekers from peeking in the windows, and yes, there 
had been some problems with that. Gravel scrunched under 
the wheels as we started up the drive toward the house.
	"Here, sir," I heard the driver say from up on the bench. 
I sighed and clambered out, bidding him goodnight and 
heading for the front door. Behind me came the jingle of 
harness and rattle of wheels as the carriage headed off toward 
the stables.
	Home again. The lights were on in the living area and 
up on the second floor, glowing a welcoming orange against 
the almost indistinguishable blueblack of the night sky. As I 
stepped up onto the front porch the front door swung open, 
throwing a fan of light out and silhouetting the alien form of a 
Rris.
	"Evening, Tich."
	"Good evening, sir," she greeted me. "I trust it was a 
productive day?"
	"Productive, yes," I said, handing my coat over. "And 
very long. Some warning about these things would be nice."
	"Yes, sir," she said neutrally as she hung my coat in 
the closet and turned back to me. "You sound tired. Do you 
wish to eat?"
	I was hungry. "Food would be good," I said. "
	"Yes, sir," the major domo said. "It will be ready 
shortly."
	"Nothing fancy," I said. "You've already eaten?"
	"Ah, yes, sir. Ah, her Ladyship has. She wasn't sure 
what time you'd be home."
	"Just reheat leftovers," I said and she ducked her head, 
headed back toward the kitchens. I sighed and made my way 
through to the living room. It was deserted, the low cushions 
and tables where we could receive guests in the Rris idea of 
comfort, but there was a light on through in the study.
The study was a decent sized room lined with bookshelves. 
Mostly bare: my grasp of the Rris written language was still 
rudimentary so the only books I could handle were the rare and 
expensive primers and cubs' books. The desk had been built 
to my specifications which included raising it a decent height 
above the ground and getting a good chair. Now there was a 
Rris figure curled up in the chair, legs draped over the arms 
and engrossed in a book while the oil lamp on the desk burned 
low. As I stepped in the door her ears flickered and she looked 
around.
	"Mikah!"
	"Good evening, your Ladyship," I smiled.
	"Huh," Chihirae arched one leg out, her odd digitigrade 
foot held trembling for a muscle-stretching second, then the 
other. "I wish she wouldn't call me that."
	"But it suits you."
	She chittered and then rolled her shoulders. "How do 
you stand these contraptions? It puts knots right up my tail and 
back."
	"There are cushions around," I reminded her, touching 
her shoulders. Her fur was slightly coarse on the outside with 
the finer fell deeper in. Feeling so strange when I started 
kneading: the thick hide feeling like it was sliding loosely over 
the bunched muscles beneath, as if it weren't even attached. 
She sighed and her head sagged forward.
	"Huhnnn," she rumbled. "You're late home."
	"Been one of those days."
	"What da... ah... Sa, I see. Ah, lower... there. Hnnn. 
What do they want now?"
	I told her.
	Chihirae. She was the first Rris I ever truly met. She 
was a schoolteacher from the town of Lying scales who'd been 
working at the rural community of Westwater when I'd arrived 
in this world. She'd been the one I'd first approached for help. 
Actually, she'd shot me, nearly killed me, then saved my life 
and defended me from villagers convinced I was a murderer.
	Long and complicated story.
	She was a friend. A good friend. And yes, we were 
lovers.
	Or rather I was. Rris don't love. They can't. They don't 
have the hardwiring to form such connections. That's not to 
say they don't form friendships and affections, they just don't 
feel that surge we interpret as love. They can't: love is a 
cocktail of chemicals our brains produce and Rris equipment 
simply doesn't produce those chemicals. The only way I can 
describe what they feel is to use synonyms and similies, 
comparing them to things in the human experience. It's not 
nearly accurate, but it's all I can do. I understood the 
differences, but it was one thing to understand them and an 
entirely different matter to be make my body feel it. My 
hardwiring, the way my body and ape ancestry processed 
emotions, was continually undermining that knowledge.
	It had caused me serious grief in the past. It would do 
so again.
	So I loved her. And for her I was a friend, someone she 
knew in a new town, a current sexual partner. There would 
come a time when she would leave. I knew that. I didn't want to 
think about that.
	"A busy day off," she husked when I'd finished. She 
was limp under my hands now, a low, almost subsonic rumble 
coming from her chest. Not quite a purr, but that was the best 
reference I had.
	"And how was your class?"
	"Milk froth cubs," she sighed. "They're more of a 
problem than usual ones."
	"Attitude?" I asked.
	"Ah," she confirmed. "'Specially the older ones."
	"Hmmm," I chuckled. "Well, don't let it get to you." I 
leaned over and nuzzled the top of her head. "Your Ladyship."
	Chihriae chittered her amusement. "I never thought 
anyone would be calling me that. I've asked her not to."
	"Awww," I sympathized. "The things you have to live 
with."
	"Hai," she mock-growled and craned her neck back, 
trying to nip at me. Relenting when I scratched behind her 
ears. "Huhn, you know how to make peace, don't you."
	"I had to learn quickly," I said.
	She chittered again and directed my hands to a more 
needing spot. "So, how long is this trip supposed to be?"
	"They said not more than a few weeks."
	"You believe that?"
	"When I see it," I said, moving my scratching down her 
neck, down to her shoulders, toward her ribs.
	'Hai, Mikah!" she chittered and caught my hands. "Not 
now, you oversexed ape. I've got to get this done."
	"Spoilsport," I murmured, trying not to grin.
	She held my hands in her small ones for a second, 
turning them over, over again, staring and studying them as if 
she'd never seen them before. She traced a dark claw along 
one of the lines on my palm and then looked up to ask, "Have 
you eaten yet?"
	"I was on my way."
 	"I'm sure cook can burn something for you," she craned 
her head back to purse her features into a Rris smile up at me.
	"That was old the first time I heard it," I grumbled as I 
left her to get on with her work.
	I had a dining room. It was another room with Rris 
furniture, centremost of which  was a low, Rris-style table big 
and solid enough to land aircraft on. The cushions were tooled 
leather by an artisan whose works were quite in demand, so I 
was told.
	I hated eating alone in there. 
	The food was something like stroganoff. Beef... 
unlikely. Buffalo stroganoff most probably. The cook, Segihis, 
was elderly and seemed to regard his employers as 
something of an amusement. But he was good and he was 
learning my tastes. Which meant not working with some of the 
more flavourful Rris spices, such as Nightshade.
	Food helped. So did the shower afterwards. I leaned my 
head against the tiles and let near-scalding water sluice down 
across that tight spot between my shoulderblades. Damn, 
dealing with Rris was still exhausting. Reading them, 
interpreting the body language... I had to concentrate on that. I 
kept trying to interpret their signals as if they were coming 
from humans, and that was dangerous. A baring of teeth was 
not a smile; a shift into what might be a posture of interest in a 
human was a reaction to a perceived threat.
	I'd known more than a few people back in that lost world 
who insisted on attributing human emotions to their pets. If I 
allowed myself to fall into that trap here it would mean trouble. 
Even with individuals I considered friends it was difficult to 
relax. There weren't many times when I could lower my guard 
so those quiet moments were all the more precious. 
	I yawned, flinched, then blinked. I'd been dozing off 
standing up. How long... the water was still hot so it couldn't 
have been too long. Yawning again, I rolled my shoulders and 
turned my face to the faucet, the blast helping to jolt me awake. 
I flipped the tap off and stepped out, wiping at the water 
streaming into my eyes and groping for the towel. A blurry 
figure handed it to me.
	"Christ," I said to an amused Chihirae while my heart 
started again. "Haven't you ever seen Psycho?"
	"If that's something from your world, then I probably 
haven't," she replied as she took a second towel to my back, 
patting gently around the tracks of scars there. "You were quite 
a while in here. I just thought I'd see if you were all right."
	"You could have scratched."
	"That wouldn't have been as fun," she chittered, then 
hesitated and circled me, looking up at me with a cautious 
expression. "You're serious?" She laid a hand on my chest, 
over my drubbing heart. "Hai," she murmured. "I really 
frightened you?" 
	"I wasn't expecting you," I said defensively.
	Her ears went down. ""I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't 
mean it like that. You were just in here a long time."
	"My fault," I half-smiled at her expression. "I nearly fell 
asleep."
	"Under that thing? You're that tired?" She tipped her 
head and stroked her hand across my wet skin, slicking the fur 
on her palm down as she traced fingertips across my chest, 
down lower. "Something you mentioned earlier, but if you're 
too tired..."
	"Ah..." I inhaled sharply, my body suddenly saying it 
was very awake. "I thought you didn't want to."
	"I was busy then," she rumbled and I could feel that 
vibration through her chest as she slowly pressed against me, 
hugged against me, the water dripping from me soaking into 
her fur. She seemed so small, so petite I could lay my chin on 
the top of her muzzle, but there was dense muscle under that 
hide. "Not busy now. You too tired?"
	"I don't know..." I broke off with another gasp.
 	"No," she laughed and squeezed again, "you're not. 
See? I can....Ahi! Put me down!"
	"You roused the beast," I mock-growled, my hands 
curled under her buttocks as I held her up, pressing her back 
against the wall, grinned down at her face. She slitted her 
eyes, wrapping muscular thighs around my waist and arms 
around my neck, slightly coarse hide and fur clenching me. 
"Here?" she breathed, looking uncertain.
	No. Not there. Not then. That could have been... risky. 
For both of us. I nuzzled her, gently inhaling her dusty scent. 
Kissing... that also just wasn't practical. So many differences 
that the act wasn't something that could just happen, it had to 
be planned, we had to be careful. I still had scars from... a 
painful memory.
	The bedroom was dark. It was comfortable. It was a 
place where I could be close to her. I know I enjoyed it, that 
she got pleasure out of it, but it wasn't lovemaking for her. Not 
the same emotional trip I experienced.
	And I knew that while I held her, she wasn't feeling what 
I did; what a human did. I could look down into the shimmering 
titanium pools of her eyes and what looked back wasn't 
something I could read. There was depth there, emotions and 
decisions I could never empathize with or fully comprehend; a 
soul staring back and trying in turn to read me.
	Nevertheless, in the dark night, when the future was 
unseen and unsure, she was someone to hold to.

------v------

	A high, thin overcast hung over the world, hiding the 
sun, turning it to a blushing pale pink orb on the horizon. The 
surface of the lake was rilled with wavelets, slapping against 
the breakwater and leaving the harbor behind molasses-
smooth, stirring slightly with the motion of the river's currents. 
I could smell the memory of rain from the night before hanging 
in the still, cool air. Water still puddled on cobbles of the 
streets, on the flagstones of the docks, flicking from the iron-
bound rims as the carriage rolled to a stop.
	The entire carriage rocked on its leaf suspension as I 
climbed out and looked around at a dockside already bustling 
with activity. Behind us, guards were closing the wrought iron 
gates, a couple arguing with peddlers outside. Stevedores and 
workers were bustling about their businesses in the big 
workshops and boatsheds, and porters were already working 
at unloading gear from the back of the carriage. I shouldered 
my own duffel bag.
	"They can take that," Chihirae almost sounded like she 
was chiding me as she dropped down beside me.
	"I can manage it," I said. I preferred to carry my own 
gear. It just felt odd to have someone else carrying something 
I was quite capable of. Beside, there were things in that bag 
that were valuable. In a unique monetary way to Rris; in a 
unique sentimental way to me.
	Chihirae twitched her ears then patted my arm. "You 
think you're ready for this?"
	"Do you think they're ready for me?"
	There was moment of surprise, then she laughed. "I 
don't think anyone can be really ready for you," she assured 
me.
	I almost grinned and hastily caught myself. For a 
species that uses their teeth as weapon, a grin isn't a friendly 
gesture. But it's a damn difficult thing to unlearn. "It'll be 
interesting," I said.
	"A, that's what concerns me."
	I opened my mouth, then frowned. "I am capable of 
going somewhere and not causing trouble, you know."
	"I've yet to see it," she said and touched my arm again, 
watching her own hand smoothing down the hair there and then 
looking up at me. "You will behave? You know your sense of 
humour is... odd. There are those who might not appreciate it."
	"So I've been told."
	"Mikah," she started to admonish me and then sighed 
and ducked her head. "Just... don't make anyone too angry, 
a?"
	"I'll try," I said, not sure whether to feel touched by her 
concern or stung by the lack of confidence. "It's only for a 
couple of weeks. And I'm finally going to see some more of 
your world." I adjusted my duffel and started off across the 
rain-slicked flagstones toward the wharf. Chihirae stalked 
along at my side in that smooth Rris walk, not even seeming to 
notice that the shallow puddles soaked the fur of her 
inhumanly-shaped feet. "Besides, I'll have my nursemaids."
	Chihirae glanced over her shoulder at the guards 
following at a discreet distance and her muzzle pursed in 
amusement. "Ah. A couple of attractive females like that 
following an oversexed ape around. Why should I worry?"
	"Oh? They're female?"
	"You still can't tell?"
	"Well... sometimes. I'm learning."
	 She flickered her ears and snorted. "A. That you are. I 
just find it remarkable that you know things most people've 
never dreamed of, yet some of the most basic things are 
beyond you."
	I shrugged. "Sometimes... it's like learning to breathe 
all over again."
	She was quiet for a few seconds, then said. "You are 
learning though. I have had worse pupils."
	"Gee, thanks," I said. " Nothing to worry about. I'll bring 
you something."
	"A? What?"
	"Umm... Uh." I already had a cellar full of their wine. I 
knew Cover My Tail's main exports were coal, iron ore, 
lumber... great gift ideas. I know a Rris' idea of a present is 
somewhat different from the ones I'm accustomed to, but I still 
wasn't sure what she'd like. "I'll find something."
	The wharf was one of the multitude of similar stone 
moorings jutting out into the river from the quayside. This one 
was private and part of the shipyards, with its own checkpoint 
and guards. They just stared at me and let us pass without 
challenge. I suppose I was pretty distinctive. 
	The single ship moored at this berth was the Ironheart. 
It wasn't the first Rris steam ship, but it was the first to be built 
incorporating a multitude of design innovations I'd introduced: 
new techniques in metallurgy, engines, hull and prop design. 
Shortly after I'd arrived in Shattered Water I'd been assigned 
to Chaeitch, so he could see if what I knew could be put to 
practical use. We'd actually gotten along. And he was 
something of a genius when it came to working out how to 
actually implement an idea. The results were the Ironheart. It 
was a prototype, a showpiece, and it showed.
	Tawny bodies bustled around the ship and wharf; a 
swarm of dockhands and crew working at loading, stowing, 
stocking, sanding, polishing and cleaning. The river water 
gently lapped at the thirty-meter hull, the laquered wood 
glistening like oil. Morning sunlight filtering through the town, 
rising above the shipyard roofs, turned brass fittings, porthole 
rims and the tops of the stacks to molten copper.
	I noticed Chihirae's ears flick back, laying down against 
her skull for a second. She didn't like boats, I'd forgotten that. 
Was that why she was a little twitchy? In any case, her ears 
came up again when she saw the group clustered at the 
gangplank. There were several Rris there, all dressed in 
expensive-looking garb. The older female with the annoyed 
expression was Rraerch; the one with the smoking pipe in his 
mouth was Chaeitch;  the one with the pale white leather 
waistcoat was Marasitha, the protocol officer and diplomat 
travelling with us; and the other two had the look of Palace 
officials about them.
	One of the officials glanced up to see us walking toward 
them down the dock. He flinched, stepping back. The others 
looked at him in surprise, then around at us. Rraerch looked 
amused and Chaeitch's ears pricked up.
	"Hi," I said in english then switched to Rris. "Hope 
we're not late. She's terrible about oversleeping."
	"Hai," Chihirae yipped. "I had to drag you out of bed!"
	"Was that it?" I snapped my fingers. "I knew it was one 
of us."
	The officials looked taken aback by that but Chaeitch 
bobbed his head and seemed amused; by us or by their 
reaction? "You're in good time," he said. "We've got a few 
minutes."
	"Good," I said, brushing past them. "I'll be right with 
you."
	"Mikah..." Marasitha caught me. "We've still got things 
to discuss."
	What? We'd spent the day before, the entire day, going 
over what I should and shouldn't say. "I thought we'd done with 
that."
	"There're still a few points..."
	"Later," I interrupted, holding my hand up. "Later."
	He stopped, laying his ears back. I moved past him, 
ignoring the others as I stepped up to the diminutive female. 
She blinked up at me. 'I'll see you, a?" I said. "I'll be careful."
	"Promise?"
	"Cross my heart and hope... I promise."
	Alien hands laid on my chest and claws poked through 
my shirt, pricking my skin as Chihirae leaned in close. "I'll 
hold you to that," she growled.
	I hugged her, feeling the warmth of warm fur, the 
compact muscle beneath as I touched my lips to the bridge of 
her muzzle. "Anyone gives you any trouble, just let me know."
	"I can take care of myself," she chided.
	"And I can't?"
	She reached up and stroked my face, my beard. I hated 
the damn thing, but she'd insisted; had hated the thought of me 
shaving. A lot of them had. I'd compromised: I kept the beard, 
but trimmed it back to a length that didn't leave me looking like 
the lost mariner. "Mikah, you... I'd hate to lose you."
	I hugged her again, ignoring the other aliens staring at 
us.

------v------

	Waves slapped against the bow as the ship left the still 
water of the harbour breakwater. Through the hull I felt the 
engines step up a notch, the slow pulse beating a bit faster as 
the Ironheart turned into the wind. From the rail I watched the 
docks recede and vanish from sight behind the harbour wall, 
taking with them the sight of the small figure standing there.
	She'd been brought to Shattered Water by someone 
else I'd known. She'd come not entirely of her own free will and 
she stayed out of friendship to me. The bonds Rris feel to one 
another, male female relationships, are nothing like human 
ones. There are strong emotions during the spring, the time of 
the female heat, but otherwise... they don't feel the emotional 
bonding that human couples do. It seems odd to me, cold and  
detached in a lot of ways, but then my Rris friends can't 
understand my attachments.
	'You need to need', someone once told me. She was 
right: I formed close bonds, affections, dependencies, 
relations, whether it was prudent or not. Someone else had 
warned me against that, how it could be used against me.
	So while I loved her, she couldn't reciprocate. It wasn't 
a deficiency on their part -  they certainly felt other things I 
never could and considered my affections bizarre - but I knew 
it meant that if she wanted to leave, there was nothing holding 
her here.
	I really hoped she'd be there when I got back.
	The world warmed as the sun climbed higher. The pale 
overcast burned away, turned the sky from the milky gray to a 
cutting turquoise blue. On the far distant horizon, stacks of 
white clouds clambered and climbed into the sky, like 
insubstantial parapets of the gods. The sun was hot on my 
shoulders; the wind blowing off the lake cool and smelling of 
water. Any moisture the night rain had left on the deck soon 
burned off as varnished wood heated up. A gull swooped along 
after us for a while, then soared off into the distance. From my 
perch out of the way on the cabin roof I could see the distant 
lakeshore passing right on the edge of view: kilometer upon 
kilometer of wilderness, an occasional rooftop or curl of smoke 
in the trees, an occasional little jetty, but otherwise untouched.
	Marasitha spent a couple of hours doing last second 
updates to my briefings. He sat out on the deck, shuffling 
papers from his valise, pinning them as the wind tried to steal 
them. He was a busy little Rris, shorter than most and that put 
him a good head shorter than me. I always got the impression 
he should be wearing a suit and bowler, perhaps carrying an 
umbrella. There were lists of things I should discuss, subjects 
I should avoid, backgrounds on various nobility and guild 
leaders I'd be meeting... on top of all the other stuff I'd 
crammed in over the past couple of days it all started to run 
together. At least it was only some late-incoming information 
that they only just had a chance to get to me, so it was only a 
couple of hours. 
	Shadows grew shorter as the sun and the temperature 
climbed. The air just above the deck hazed almost 
imperceptibly, like the heat shimmer above an Arizona road. I 
suspect that was the main reason that the panting Marasitha 
pronounced that we'd finished and headed belowdecks where it 
was cooler. At least I had the option of shucking my heavy 
Rris-made shirt. I laid back on the cabin roof, squinting at the 
azure sky through human sunglasses and ignoring the open 
stares of the crew. I don't know if it was my bare hide or the 
maps of scars that made them lay their ears back. 
	Damn, was it really necessary that I cram all that 
information? Some of it might be useful, but a lot of it was 
simply dross. Who said that knowledge is power? I didn't feel 
all that powerful, just a little dazed from trying to absorb all 
that. That the Open Fields printing guildmaster had had a 
falling out with the master of forestries; there were new books 
in the embassy; an advisor's daughter was bearing the child of 
a lamp oil merchant... did I need to know that?
	A rustle of cloth on fur beside me. "It is necessary, I'm 
afraid" Chaeitch said, settling down on the sun-warmed wood 
beside me. In the brilliant glare of the midday sun on the water 
his eyes were the merest slivers of black in amber.
	I sat up again, rolling my shoulders. "It just seems a 
ridiculous sometimes."
	"Politics," he replied.
	"A," I said. "That's what I said."
	I heard him chitter.
	"What was that about this morning?" I asked.
	"What?"
	"Those others on the dock. They were from the Palace? 
They didn't look very happy."
	"Oh, there were some details about your guard. It was 
resolved."
	"Not to their satisfaction, apparently," I smiled.
	Out of the corner of my eye I saw him look at me. "You 
shouldn't take so much pleasure in making trouble for the 
Palace," he said reproachfully.
	"I take my entertainment where I can find it."
	"Ah," I saw him tip his head back, grimacing at the sun 
overhead. "I think Chihirae's rightly concerned about you. Can I 
ask you a question about you and her?"
	"What?"
	 "The sex with her, is it like that with females of your 
kind?" 
	Talk about changing tack. I blinked and hesitated again. 
He and Chihirae... I'd walked in on them going at it. Literal 
coitus interruptus. I knew that it'd been the time of year, that 
what was between them was nothing like a human relationship, 
but that ancient ape in my hindbrain insisted on screeching at 
what it interpreted as competition. I knew that was utterly 
ridiculous. They were both Rris, they belonged together. I was 
the odd one out and I was jealous of that.
	Whoever said instincts are logical?
	Why was he asking? He was a Rris male. Without a 
female in season, without those pheromones for arousal, sex 
was just an abstract concept to him. He couldn't get off by 
thinking about it, seeing a shapely female with a great tail, 
looking at dirty pictures or even masturbating. They simply 
aren't interested in a sexual way.  He wouldn't be thinking 
about their relationship at all.
	"Why are you asking?"
	He wagged his hand in a shrug. "I was curious." He 
blinked amber eyes at me. "She said sex with you is quite an 
experience. I was wondering if it was the same sort of 
experience you got with your own kind."
	"Oh," I blinked out at the glare of sun on water. "No. Not 
the same."
	He cocked his head. "Ah? How?
	"Oh," I rocked back, thinking that one over. "That's... 
difficult to say."
	"Hai?" He ruffled the fur on his forearms, one and then 
the other. "Not as good?"
	"No, not that. It's... " putting it into words wasn't easy. 
"The feelings are different. She doesn't... It's not like a human 
female. She's not human. I mean everything; her feel, her 
scent, her... inside her... it's different. I mean, it's the same, it 
does the same thing, but it all feels so different."
	"You don't like that?"
	I suddenly wanted a stiff drink. "I don't know. In some 
ways, it's... it's frightening: we have to be careful. She... her 
claws and teeth... she forgets them sometimes. And I'm 
different enough... I'm heavier than Rris; my... penis is large 
enough and she... she's made for a different shape so it can be 
uncomfortable for her if I'm not careful. " It wasn't saying what I 
wanted to say. I sighed and looked down at my hands and then 
at the Rris. "It's... frightening, confusing, exhausting. And it's 
fun, pleasurable, reassuring, and it's... arousing."
	His muzzled wrinkled in confusion. That word, arouse, 
didn't translate properly. Rather, it translated but I had to use it 
out of its usual context. "It's more than just the time of year for 
me," I reminded him.
	"Ah," Chaeitch said dubiously, not sounding entirely 
enlightened. "She said. You can be aroused by just thinking 
about sex, or when she touches you. She said in the night, 
while you're asleep, you get erections and she can..."
	"Thank you," I interrupted and he blinked amber eyes, 
then flicked his ears in amusement. "Hai, this makes you 
uncomfortable?"
	"I went through enough of it with the physicians," I said. 
"How much did she tell you?"
	Now his amusement faltered as he realized that this 
was another area in which my attitudes differed from the ones 
to which he was accustomed. "You...didn't want her to say 
anything, did you."
	I did a brief estimation, then raked my fingers through 
my overgrown hair. "That much, a?" I sighed. 
	"Sorry," he looked uncertain. "I didn't know she wasn't 
supposed to discuss it." 
	And thinking back on it, I'd never asked her not to. I'd 
just assumed...
	Crap.
	I shook my head. "I never said anything to her. I just 
never thought she would."
	"Ah," he said. For a while he just sat there, staring at 
the glittering water. The breeze ruffled through his fur, setting it 
rippling like golden fields. He'd been shedding his winter coat, 
but it still must've been hot. "You don't discuss other mates?"

	"Not...usually. You obviously do."
	"Sometimes. But you're quite exceptional. I was 
curious."
	"I... see. She answered your questions?"
	"Hai, yes," his tongue lolled in a Rris leer. "I see why 
you're so popular with them."
	 I reached around to rub at a heat that wasn't sunburn 
climbing up my neck. "Wonderful," I muttered. "Chaeitch, I'm 
trying to keep that..."
	"I know. Don't worry. I haven't published yet."
	I stared.
	"That was a joke," he said reproachfully.
	"Oh. Thank you."
	"You do enjoy her, though, don't you."
	In a word: "Yes."
	"But your kind... you mate for life? One pair? You're 
quite...protective of her."
	That set off alarm bells. This wasn't just a casual talk 
stemming from curiosity about an alien's sex life. He was 
beating around some kind of bush. He'd discussed my sexual 
habits with Chihirae, that could also mean they'd talked about 
other things. Like my feelings. Like how I'd felt when I'd walked 
in on them doing the beast with two backs.
	Ah.
	"Are you worried that I'm angry at you? Because of 
your... relationship with her."
	His ears flicked, just enough to tell me that I'd scored. 
"You did seem upset."
	"That was some time ago," I remembered. It'd shocked 
me, it'd hurt me, but it was completely right. "No. I was being 
stupid. Being human. You... I won't stand in your way. I won't 
interfere."
	"But how would you feel about it?"
	I swallowed. "I can't help that," I said. "But it's best for 
her. I can't offer her what you can."
	"You wouldn't be angry."
	"Chaeitch," I almost laughed, "if I was going to hurt you, 
it'd have to be for a damned good reason, and that isn't it."
	"Thank you," he said. "I think."
	
----v----

	It's over four hundred kilometers across the lakes from 
Shattered Water to Open Fields. The Ironheart was a prototype, 
but it was still the fastest Rris vessel on the water. 
Belowdecks the engines throbbed steadily, transmitting that 
metal heatbeat through the ship's frame as it pushed along at 
about nine or ten knots.
	Back home I could have made the journey in a matter of 
hours by road. Here, the fastest and safest route was the one 
we were taking, and it took two days. We stopped overnight at 
the midway point of the southern-shore town of Tearing Ice to 
take on more fuel and set off early the next day. The weather 
blessed us again, giving us blue skies and clear sailing.
	I spent most of the day sitting out on the deck, lolling in 
the sun and talking with Chaeitch and Rraerch. I don't know 
why I got on so well with them, I just did. It seemed like they 
didn't judge me, they just accepted me. At first I'd thought it 
might have been because of the business I was bringing them: 
the technology and innovations. But it didn't seem to be that at 
all. At least as far as I could tell.
	We discussed business: the ship, the upcoming job, 
where we could go next. And we talked about more interesting 
things: what Open Fields was really like, the places to eat and 
drink, the sights to see, general gossip. That chatting was also 
useful for me. I'd been living the Rris experience for over a 
year, which really isn't that long to learn a language. There're 
always new words  - slang, places, references and historical 
events -  cropping up. Just asking for elaboration about 
unknown words can lead conversations off down entirely new 
avenues.
	But we had the time. And it was a good way to pass it.
	Rraerch aesh Smither was another Rris I'd known for a 
long time. In fact, I'd first met her and Chaeitch at the same 
time, at a rather impromptu meeting Hirht had convened of 
highly-placed academics in Shattered Water. I suppose they'd 
been there to find out if I -  and what I knew -  were for real. 
Rraerch, as Chaeitch's patron and principal sponsor, had 
worked with him and I and we'd found we got on together. 
They'd been the first to try treating me like an individual and 
not a commodity, which hadn't been easy with the guards and 
schedule I'd been assigned. Now it looked like that sort of 
schedule would be on again in Open Fields, so I took the time 
to kick back and just talk with them.
	In my world that lake would have been Lake Erie, here 
it was Windswept. The waterways back home would have been 
bustling with vessels of all types, from the big iron ore and 
container ships down to small pleasure craft. In this world I 
saw the occasional billowing sail in the distance, perhaps a 
few more around the small lakeside villages and towns, and 
that was heavy traffic by Rris standards. Rraerch knew all 
those places by name, and I found a lot of those names quite 
strange: Tearing Ice, Where Is This, Running Without Moving... 
She knew some of the history behind those names as well. 
Tearing Ice had been founded during a particularly bad winter 
storm. Windblown ice had cut up some of the early founders; 
Where Is This? Well, that was named courtesy of an ancient 
expedition who'd gotten themselves lost.
	I was able to answer a few of their questions as well. 
They wanted to hear more about my home. My home world, to 
be more precise. They were fascinated by things I found quite 
mundane: cars, fast food, shopping malls and cities, flying, 
television and phones, the internet. They were entering the 
industrial revolution and had yet to come to grips with the 
concept of the information revolution. They'd seen my laptop 
and Chaeitch literally drooled over the thought of CAD/CAM 
applications, but the idea of just what computers were capable 
of still seemed to slip by them. It's not that they weren't 
intelligent. They were, smarter than me by quite a margin, it 
was just they hadn't had the exposure to machinery and 
concepts.
	So a lot of that trip was spent chatting, exchanging 
information. Funny how when other Rris demand me to do that 
it seems like a chore. Company and environment I expect. 
What was that Confucious said? Choose a job you love and 
you'll never have to work a day in your life. Hell, he also said 
that wise men say and fools quote, but in a way he was right 
about career choice. Maybe I just had a perverse nature, but 
keeping it casual was far preferable to being grilled by 
merchants and monarchs out to make a quick buck.
	We passed Pelle Island in the afternoon. Hours later 
we entered the St. Claire River at the north-western most end of 
Lake Windswept and our progress northwards was slowed 
slightly by the two-knot current. The sun was creeping down 
toward the horizon by the time we got to lake St. Claire... 
Season's Door.
	It's a small lake. Well, relatively small when counted 
against the great lakes. And there was a lot more traffic there. I 
could see several sails on ships under way making for the 
city, bare masts on others moored out in open waters, 
probably avoiding harbor tariffs. Calm lake water slapped 
against the bow as the steersman followed the channel and 
current eddies out into the lake and then turned toward the sun, 
toward the western shore and the city there. The westering sun 
hung low over the roofs of Open Fields, reflected in a golden 
path leading across the dark water toward the shore. Engine 
sounds changed, dropping as the steersman throttled back to 
become a low idling throb, water gurgling around the hull as 
the ship glided smoothly through moored vessels toward the 
outstretched arms of the harbor wall.
	The stone and granite walls arched out into the lake. 
Fortified guardhouses were positioned at the ends of the 
breakwaters, covered ports in the thick walls doubtless 
concealing canon. On the towers I could see Rris figures 
moving around a framework. Sparks flashed, then blossomed 
as a beacon on each wall were lit and flames, mere specters in 
the evening light, flicked up.
	"About time those were replaced," Chaeitch remarked 
as we passed. Heads appeared at the crenellations to watch 
us.
	Within the embrace of the walls was the harbor proper, 
sheltering a lot more moored vessels. Ships and boats of all 
shapes and sizes tied to wharves and docks and just anchored 
out in the harbor. Masts of all description reached up, 
silhouetted against the sunset in a tangled forest with a 
canopy of lines, rigging, spars and sails that rose above us as 
the Ironheart coasted in towards its berth. The trickle of smoke 
from the twin stacks died down to the merest wisp even as the 
engines picked up for a second: water churned as the screws 
reversed, then shut down. There wasn't a bump as the 
Ironheart glided to a halt alongside the wharf. The berths 
directly adjacent were empty, the other ships on the pier were 
sleek and elegant sailing vessels. Nothing like the dumpy 
shallowwater traders and haulers that filled the rest of the 
harbor. A VIP berth.
	Of course we were expected and the reception 
committee was already there. Either they'd done a damn good 
job estimating our time, they'd been waiting a while, or they 
had a good messenger network. Guards in armor were posted 
along the length of the wharf, their polished silver breastplates 
gleaming in the evening light. Off in the background, near the 
gatehouse separating the private dock, stood a group of 
carriages and their attendants. More Rris were waiting at the 
dockside  while the gangplank was run out. There were more 
guards there, wearing Shattered Water livery, and a group of 
Rris in civilian garb. Expensive clothes.
	"The Ambassador," Rraerch whispered to me, gesturing 
toward them. "Some embassy staff and guards. Those others 
will be from Cover My Tail government. Just looking after you."
	That many guards? Was there something going on that 
I didn't know about? More likely they were erring on the side of 
caution. Marasitha ignored them as he bustled down the 
gangway and over to the group waiting for us. I moved to follow 
but Chaeitch laid a finger on my arm. Wait.
	I did. There was a brief exchange onshore and then 
Marasitha glanced our way. "Hai," Chaeitch said. "Come on."
	I slung my duffel and followed them down the gangway, 
the wood bending much more under my feet than it had with the 
Rris. I saw soldiers stiffening, hands flexing on weapons and 
tails lashing. I didn't like that. Nervous Rris make me nervous, 
and these were armed. Their armor was ceremonial, polished 
and engraved and flaring orange gold in the final light, but the 
weapons they carried were sill lethal.
	I tried to move slowly and carefully.
	The higher ranking Rris knew what to expect. I saw 
some heads going back but they held their ground as I 
approached.
	"Aesh Smither, ah Ties," the Rris Chaeitch had tagged 
as the Ambassador, a male with the tongue-twisting name 
Maetoi Tr'hrichetfer, greeted us at the bottom of the gangplank. 
Waiting a few paces behind him was a group of Rris. Foremost 
in that was group an androgynous individual with creamy 
tawny fur, dressed in a light pleated kilt, pale peach bloused 
cotton shirt and a thing like a cutdown poncho: a pair of finely 
tooled leather panels hanging over chest and back. Amber 
eyes looked me up and down.
	"And this is... Mikah?" the ambassador said, "That's 
the way it is pronounced?"
	"Yes, sir." My name is Michael, but Rris vocal 
apparatus has serious problems with the consonant 'el'.
	 He had good control. He barely gave a flicker when I 
answered him, but there were stirrings amongst the others. 
"Very good," the ambassador said. "May I introduce Chriét ah 
Hesethari, Host for Her ladyship."
	The Rris in the odd-looking poncho stepped forward. He 
was a young-looking fellow, but I wasn't certain what his age 
might be. I got the impression he was trying not to stare at me, 
to appear dignified and controlled and he doing a pretty good 
job of it. "Honored guests," he ducked his head briefly. 
"Welcome to Open Fields. Ah Mikah, we are most gratified that 
you're able to join us."
	"Thank you, sir," I said.
	"Your journey was clear?"
	"Very pleasant."
	"I'm pleased to hear it. Two days from Shattered Water, 
that's remarkable time. But you could doubtless do with rest 
and refreshment in more comfortable surroundings."
	The ambassador looked at us and said, "Her Ladyship 
has offered lodgings at Eisher House, a most magnanimous 
gesture."
	"It's no trouble whatsoever," Chriét smiled. "It's 
acceptable to you?"
	"It would be impolite to refuse," I replied.
	'We would be honored," Marasitha said.
	There was that flicker again. I guessed Chriét had been 
briefed in detail on me and was trying to look nonchalant and 
take it in stride, but the reality is always a bit more real than 
the telling. "Thank you," he ducked his head. "If you would care 
to follow me, there's transportation waiting."
	As we headed toward the waiting carriages I looked 
around at the new Rris city. It was just the docks, and those 
weren't a great deal different from the ones in Shattered Water. 
The pier we were berthed at was in the VIP section, so it was 
isolated from the commoners berthing by walls and 
guardhouses. That evening there were probably more sentries 
than usual posted.
Dusk crawled across the world, from the ground up. Darkness 
in the lowlands, in the streets and the shadows under trees 
grew and spread like ink spilled in slow motion. Delineators of 
dark crawling up hillsides and along valleys while peaks and 
rooftops glowed rust in the dying light. The Rris were 
unperturbed: their nightsight was inhuman. That goes without 
saying, but what was nothing but vague hints of shadows to 
me were quite clear to them. Useful: Chihirae sometimes read 
books in what was near-pitch to me. Scary: when she touched 
me in the night without warning.
They did have uses for lights though. Rris night vision was 
superb, but apparently it was monochromatic. "All the color 
goes," was what Chihirae'd told me when I asked her, looking 
down on her looking up with glowing eyes.
Navigation lights like the harbor beacons were lit, as were 
smaller lights on boats and on the docks, for safety's sake. 
And in the town others lamps were flickering to life: Not the 
glare of sodium, neon and argon smeared across the 
shoreline, but isolated pools of naked flame and oil and gas 
lamps.
	So I walked along the docks as the shadows retook the 
world. Sentries in their glittering ceremonial armor, their bulky 
muskets carried at port arms watched from the sidelines as our 
little procession passed them. The carriages were elegant 
affairs, as fitted royal transportation. The wooden panels 
weren't painted, but they were carved by Rris craftsmen with a 
skill and intricacy that made most human carving look like 
whittling corncobs. The trim on the carriage - the gleaming light 
fittings and rails and door handles - that wasn't chrome, but 
real silver. This time I handed my duffle to a porter who almost 
dropped it before tightening his grip and looking from me to the 
bag. I guess it was a bit weighty. Not too surprising.
	Our carriage seated four comfortably. Rraerch nestled 
in beside me while Chaeitch and our erstwhile guide sat 
opposite. Marasitha and the Ambassador had taken the 
following carriage. If the liason had been irritated about being 
relegated to the second cab, he didn't show it. Our guards piled 
into other carriages and several mounted up on spare llamas 
brought along by embassy guards.
In the dim moonlight coming in through the carved privacy 
screens I could see Chriét watching me: his eyes wider than 
usual and his nostrils twitched. I could see that he was 
disturbed: at me, or at the fact that despite everything he'd 
been told about me, he was still nervous. I almost grinned and 
hastily converted it to a stifled smirk, hidden by looking out the 
window as iron wheels rattled on cobbles and swung around 
out the gate. 
	I almost missed the group of black-clad Rris standing 
back against a storefront. Just watching quietly while other 
spectators gave them room. I guess even Mediators get 
curious.

------v------

	Open Fields was a well-planned city, intelligently laid 
out following a grid system, but with those intrinsic Rris 
touches to the layout. Broad avenues headed away from the 
lake district, toward the west and the fading glow over the 
horizon. North south roads intersected at intervals, some of 
them with distinct curves to their constructions. I knew that if I 
could see the city from the air some of those road would be 
forming concentric circles centered on plazas, like ripples in 
the gridwork of the city infrastructure. It was the same as the 
trees in the avenues and parks, the carvings on the coaches, 
the organic touches to the most austere buildings. As if 
something in the Rris psyche couldn't stand being subject to 
pure geometry.
	I guess my own found it restful as well. I did find the 
cities beautiful in their own way. Quaint is probably too 
patronizing a term. There was no traffic noise or hydrocarbon 
stink but there were the pollution problems associated with half 
a million beings and animals in close proximity. Doubtless 
milder than you'd have found in a human city of a comparable 
period, but nevertheless there. By their standards it was 
probably  quite unpleasant - their sense of smell is a lot more 
acute than a humans.
	We traveled westwards down a broad boulevard. Huge 
old trees hung their boughs overhead. Through the leaves I 
could catch glimpses of stars coming out. The moon riding low 
in the sky behind us was casting enough light to emphasize 
stark shadows. Occasionally there'd be a streetlight or a lamp 
glowing gently, illuminating a doorway or a sign, but there 
weren't many. The locals who were out, and there seemed to 
be a fair number, went about their business in the darkness. 
	"I understand you haven't been outside Shattered 
Water," Chriét was saying. Some moonlight was making it in 
through the windows: a couple of slivers that fell across Rris 
arms and torso, just enough to screw up my night vision and 
leave their faces in absolute blackness.
	"This is my first time outside of Land-of-Water," I said. I 
had seen more of that land, from the village of Westwater to 
the town of Lying Scales and onwards to the capitol.
	"I don't doubt that you've been told a lot about Open 
Fields. Is there anything in particular that you'd like to see 
while you're here?"
	"I was told that aesh Resir'tsa's museum collection is 
very impressive. As is the royal gallery."
	"It was mentioned you had an artistic interest," Chriét 
said. It was difficult to interpret any sort of tone in Rris voices: 
I had enough trouble reading their moods when I could see 
their faces. "I'm sure we can find some time to accommodate 
you. If there is anything else you require or want, please don't 
hesitate to let me know."
	"Thank you," I said.
	The carriage swayed into a right-hand turn, the moon 
shifting around to shine in my window. I judged we were 
travelling north-northwest. Thinking back to the maps of Open 
Fields, that would be about right.
	"This is Limemine Hill street," Chriét was saying. 
"Offers a wonderful view onto Sward Square. Ah, I was told that 
you have difficulty seeing in poor light, but I'm afraid they were 
not very specific. This is too dim for you?"
	"The moon helps, but yes, it is."
	"Ah. A pity. Perhaps sometime in the morning then. 
Dawn across the lake is quite spectacular."
	"Is there going to be much time for sightseeing? I would 
imagine you've already got a very busy schedule worked out."
	Something pricked my leg: Rraerch's way of telling me 
to behave.

------v------

	There was a point after half an hour or so that the 
buildings thinned out. Through the coach windows I could see 
the black on velvet silhouettes of trees scratching against the 
night sky, the sound of their branches swaying in the wind like 
the sound of water over gravel. The dark forest, the shadows 
beneath the canopy where wild things were.  I shuddered. The 
scene reminded me of some of the worse dreams I had.
	 Through the branches I caught the first glimmerings of 
light: fireflies dancing in the distance. Then the trees were 
gone and the moonlight was flooding down on open fields, 
down on rolling hills of long grass washed moonlight gray 
rippling in the night breeze. A rolling panorama laid out under a 
sky painted with the wash of the milky way. And the palace 
blazed like a fallen star.
	It was built along the lines of a toppled capital H, with a 
broad central east-west transom and wings to the north and 
south. Lights must have been burning in every room. No 
electric lamps, of course, so every oil and gas lamp, torch, 
chandelier and candelabra must have been ablaze, spilling 
light from windows and doors. Burning torches lined the sides 
of the drive, laying a carpet of light leading across the moonlit 
fields toward the palace.
	"Impressive," I said. Light from the roadside lamps 
strobed through the carriage as we passed by, each flash 
briefly illuminating Chriét's features. He was smirking, I swear 
he was. Impressing the alien: he'd be considering that a good 
start.
	The carriage drew to a halt right at the front steps. 
Footmen and stewards hustled forward to open the door, to put 
steps in place. Chriét stepped out first, and as he was stepping 
out the door, Rraerch put her hand on my leg and squeezed, 
just a gentle prick of claws through my pants. I caught her look: 
a caution. I was about to step out into a place full of heavily 
armed guards who'd never seen anything like me before. She 
was right, I should be exceedingly careful.
	So when it came my turn to disembark I did so slowly, 
with my hands in plain sight. There were guards out there, 
there were a lot of guards out there. I could see troopers in 
their polished armor ranked up the steps to the front door. They 
might have been disciplined, but I still saw more than a few 
flinch and stare at me while ears laid back. They were carrying 
muskets, weapons which might have been clumsy and 
unwieldy, but they were certainly lethal if someone got trigger 
happy. No red carpet, of course.
	Gravel crunched under my feet and under the wheels of 
the carriages drawing up behind us. The Ambassador and his 
entourage climbed out, all trying to keep from staring too 
obviously. No photographs here, so all they'd have had to go 
on would have been descriptions. I gathered they didn't do me 
justice. Land of Water guards fell in behind us, ignoring the 
fact they were grossly outnumbered.
	 I debated going to collect my bag, then decided against 
it. Chaeitch had assured me it'd be quite secure. After all, if 
any luggage was mislaid there'd be hell to pay, but I still felt 
uneasy about letting it out of my sight. So I followed the other 
Rris up the stairs, past the ranks of armed guards.
	The building was impressive, which was the point of it 
after all. The central part of the palace rose in front of us, the 
wings off to the side. In the moon and torchlight things were 
distorted, shadows were harsher and the proportions different. 
Polished granite blocks made up the three stories of the 
facade. Windows on all three floors were glazed, the second 
floor dominated by windows stretching from floor to ceiling. 
Those windows were separated by columns carved into details 
that were difficult to see in the light, but they seemed gothic in 
their detail and complexity. Not structural, but ornamental. 
High on the roofline, silhouetted against the sky were figures I 
at first through were more guards, but were probably statues.
	"Mikah," Chaeitch hissed and I realized I'd been 
gawping. I shut my mouth and went where my hosts led me.
	The doors were huge elaborately-carved bronze things. 
Every inch of the two-story portals were covered with figures of 
Rris bodies, interlacing so the gap between one figure's legs 
became another's arm. Not carvings. The entire things looked 
like they'd been cast in one piece. The vestibule inside was 
white marble lit by chandeliers hanging from braces in the 
stained-glass dome three floors above. Alcoves in the 
colonnaded walls contained carved busts of Rris. Some of 
them were old, split and gnarly looking things with barely 
discernable features. 
Beyond that was a great hall, an atrium with an arched, leaded 
glass ceiling. Wrought-iron railings ran along second and third 
floor galleries where curious Rris faces lurked and stared. 
Staff, I noticed. Servants trying to be unobtrusive in their 
curiosity.
The air was cool, the scent a faint one of spices and potpourri 
and the dusty scent of Rris. Claws pattered on the inlaid floor, 
accompanied by the faint clink of buckles and armor and 
equipment as our guide led us down the hall toward the double 
doors at the far end.
	"Her highness is awaiting you in the Sky Chamber," 
Chriét was saying. "We hope you will forgive the reception. 
Given more time we could have prepared something a little 
more elaborate."
	"Quite sufficient," Rraerch said. Oh yeah, our hosts 
were trying to impress.
"She has been looking forward to this meeting," the Host went 
on. "As have many others. The reception tonight has been 
restricted, but there will be appointments later on. Those have 
been drawn up and submitted to your embassy."
"Ah Marasitha will wish to peruse them, merely for formalities 
sake. I'm sure everything is quite satisfactory," Rraerch said.
"Of course," the Host said. "If there are any difficulties, please 
don't hesitate to inform us."
A low underlying susurrus had been getting steadily louder as 
we approached the doors. When the doormen swung them 
open the noise peaked, like a gust of wind through autumn 
leaves, then died. I felt my heart lurch into overdrive.
If it was the Sky Chamber, it was aptly named. We were 
standing on steps leading down into a ballroom that was like 
being in the middle of a fabergé egg: patterned powder-blue 
satin wallpaper, ornate plaster moulding that was almost 
rococo in its extravagance climbed the walls and ceiling to the 
central dome of wrought iron and glass. Huge chandeliers of 
crystal and silver hung from the dome,  flaring with hundreds 
of candles, their light reflecting from the dome above, from the 
polished floor, from the gilt and silver in the room and in the 
crowd below. 
The crowd. A sea of Rris faces turning to stare at us. At me. A 
crowd of Rris in fine satins and cottons and leathers and 
glittering metal. My first thought was 'this is restricted?!' The 
nobility and the court of Open Fields, there to see just what all 
the fuss was about. Just as their counterparts over in 
Shattered Water had done. It was a situation I'd experienced 
before, and not all of those experiences had been good. Some 
of that had been due to my own carelessness, some of it Rris 
attitudes.
In order to get through I had to put on a careful act and watch 
my every move, and that wasn't easy. These were Rris who 
didn't know me, who had no idea I had different mannerisms 
and that some of those mannerisms, while innocent, could be 
construed as hostile. These Rris were powerful, often arrogant 
and used to getting their own way, and could be quick to boil 
over if they perceived something as a slight. And it wasn't so 
easy to put the lid back on.
I really didn't like those situations.
But the others were looking at me. I saw Rraerch's ears lay 
back and knew I was emoting something strong enough for 
them to pick up on. I swallowed hard, put on my best poker 
face and descended into the throng.
The rustle of Rris whispers was picking up again around the 
back of the crowd. Whispers and soft chittering while the crowd 
stirred in curiosity. However, they kept their distance and 
parted like the Red Sea before us. The guards were like a 
moving cordon, never touching their weapons but keeping the 
Rris bystanders back with just a bit of attitude, armor and the 
promise of sharp metal.
 Chriét led the way through the crowd and I followed, somewhat 
relieved that they weren't just cutting me loose in there, 
although if there was a point in parading me past the entire 
court, I didn't get it. So I walked along behind the guards, 
taking deep breaths and trying to keep my racing heart under 
control.
The crowd was a continuously shifting mosaic of sound and 
details. Multitudes of eyes: amber and orange of all hues, rarer 
flashes of green. Fur in shades of ochre, brown, sienna, tawny, 
grey, cream, black stripes and speckles. Gaudily colored 
clothes; lace and satin; ruffs and bloused sleeves; gold and 
silver filigree woven through fur dyed and shaven in abstract 
and geometric patterns... The crowd was all around and I 
couldn't look everywhere at once, so I focused my eyes ahead, 
at the point were the courtiers were stepping aside to let our 
party through.
	"... is it?"
	"Red tie me! Frightful!"
	"...one they were talking about."
	"Not Rris?"
	"...like the [something] in...."
	"...serious?!"
	Fragments of dozens of conversations and 
exclamations tangling in the air around us. Nothing I hadn't 
heard before.
	And our escort led us right through that room and that 
crowd. Right through to the double doors on the far side. 
Footmen opened them and we entered a hall, an antechamber 
rather, with another set of doors ahead of us and a single door 
in the other two walls. The room was brightly lit with gas 
lamps. The walls were red velvet and the floor was inlaid with 
a cheerful parquetry mosaic of a Rris dying of grievous and 
graphic bodily wounds while being succored by a small 
distressed-looking group. I'd seen a statue a great deal like 
that in Pinnacle Square back in Shattered Water. Beside the 
inner doors a pair of guards stood watch, looking our way but 
otherwise not reacting when we entered. The doors behind us 
swung to and the white static of the crowd was muted and I was 
able to breathe again.
	Damn. I thought was growing accustomed to situations 
like that: I'd been through enough of them at receptions in 
Shattered Water and whenever I had to walk the streets in 
public, but they were still stressful. Especially in an unknown 
room in a full of strangers.
	"You all right?" Chaeitch murmured. I realized I'd 
relaxed with an audible sigh, but he was the only one who'd 
picked up on it.
	"Thought I was used to that," I whispered back and he 
flicked his ears.
	"I'm sorry?" Chriét looked around. "Everything is all 
right."
	"Oh yes, perfectly," Chaeitch said.
	"Groovy," I smiled. It felt forced.
	Chirt blinked, appearing momentarily puzzled, then he 
ducked his head. "Very good. Now, if you would please, her 
highness would be pleased to meet with you. Your escort... 
they will not be needed in there."
	Marasitha hesitated, then nodded at our guards. They 
quietly stepped aside to take up positions along the walls. The 
Open Fields guards opened the other doors and we walked 
through, onto deep carpet. It was a big room, and it was blue. 
I'd thought the outer hall was the sky chamber and I'd 
obviously been wrong about that. 
	The wallpaper in the room we entered was a deep blue 
trimmed with gold across the scocia and the concave ceiling 
was a deep purple in which gleamed hundreds... thousands of 
little points of light. Pinpricks in the arch of the ceiling, backlit 
to produce a representation of the night sky. There were 
bookshelves around the walls, well stocked with old volumes. 
Down the far end of the room cushions were arranged in a 
semicircle before a single figure hunched over a low desk in a 
pool of light from a  single lamp sat. Behind us, the sound of 
the crowd vanished entirely as the doors closed again and the 
only noise was a low scribble from the scratching pen of the 
figure at the desk. There was a final flourish of the quill, then 
furry fingers carefully laid it aside to dry and she looked up at 
us.
	"Welcome to Open Fields," Lady H'risnth aesh Rei's 
smiled cordially. "I hope your journey was a good one."
	"Very good, ma'am," Marasitha replied. "And a 
spectacular reception."
	The Lady was a young Rris. We'd met before and my 
briefings had had more than a bit on her. I knew she had one 
cub and Chaeitch had told me she was considered very 
attractive by Rris standards. Her pelt was light tawny color and 
quite long, a trait inherited from her grandmother who, from 
accounts, hailed from more northern climes. Her belly was a 
pale cream and dotted with salt and pepper flecks that trailed 
around from the larger dark speckles across her back and 
down her tail. Her eyes were that amber color so common to 
Rris, so inhuman to me. She ducked her head. "It was the least 
we could offer such esteemed guests. Ah R'y, wonderful to see 
you again. I have to thank you personally for making the trip. It 
wasn't too strenuous?" 
	It took me a second to realize she was talking to me. 
"Please ma'am, just call me Michael," I said. "Mikah. The trip 
was fine. Very restful. And from what I saw of your city it seems 
very beautiful. I look forward to seeing it in the light."
	She graciously smiled and gestured affirmative. "It is, 
and we shall afford you every opportunity. I understand you 
have an interest in seeing some museums and galleries."
	 How the hell had that snippet of information gotten to 
her so quickly? "Yes, ma'am, very much. If there's time."
	"I'm sure there will be," she assured me. "If there is 
anything you would like to see or do, please just ask."
	"Thank you," I said and had to glance up at the ceiling 
again. "This... this is the Sky Chamber?"
	I thought I heard Chaeitch sigh but the Lady looked 
unmistakably amused. "It is. Aptly named, I think. Supposedly 
an exact depiction of the sky at the time it was created. Fifty 
six years ago I believe. It is a quite exceptional work."
	"Ah," I agreed. I'd wondered why the background color 
was deep purple, then had to recall that Rris couldn't see that 
color: to them it was the same as black. "It is."
	"You must see the Dawn Room sometime. It's 
designed by the same artist. When seen at the right time of the 
morning it is quite... spectacular."
	"I would like that," I said.
	"It will be arranged," her face pursed in amusement 
again. "Now, I expect you're all discomforted after your 
journey. I have rooms prepared for you. Also food and 
refreshments and staff. I know you want to get down to 
business, but it is late, and since you made such excellent 
time, there's no rush. In the morning we can discuss business, 
but for now, please; rest, relax, enjoy our hospitality."
	"Thank you, ma'am," Marasitha bowed.
	She gave him a look and twitched her ears, then turned 
to me and grinned. I heard intakes of breath from my 
companions and flinched myself, but I think I recognized it for 
what it was before they did: An imitation of one of my smiles. 
"Mikah, I think the next few days will prove to be most 
interesting indeed."

------v------

	I wasn't given a room. It was more like a whole suite.
	Chriét showed me in through open doors, into an 
antechamber of white marble. Fine-veined white marble on the 
floor, in the polished walls, up to the vaulted ceiling. Opposite 
the door an alcove housed a gnarled and weathered piece of 
wood. On either side stood a plain white vase, each containing 
a small bundle of dried bullrushes.
	There were Rris waiting in there. A row of seven of them 
standing at nervous attention, but they weren't guards. Their 
clothes were neat, but not expensive. I saw ears go back like a 
row of dominoes, one after the other as soon as they laid eyes 
on me. The staff who attended the suite, and therefore me, 
Chriét informed me. There was Hiesh, the steward of the suite. 
Then the attendant, the trio of chambermaids, the waiter, and 
the personal groom. Those individuals weren't introduced by 
name, they were just servants. They'd probably been hand-
picked and extensively briefed, and they looked more than a 
little nervous of me.
	"If you need anything," Chriét told me, "Anything at all, 
just ask. It will be provided."
	The rest of the suite was through an archway to the 
right and down a couple of steps. They opened out onto a big 
living area. It was luxurious. By anyone's standards. The floor 
was carpeted in intricate patterns of woven green and gold; the 
paneling on the wall lacquered white and embellished with 
carvings and scrollwork and gilt. There was a desk, there was 
a table and polished leather cushions, Rris sculptures and 
artwork scattered around. A cold fireplace lay below a huge 
mantle embossed with plaster grapes, above was a mirror in a 
gilt frame, a big one. It must've been worth its weight in gold, 
given the laborious process glassmaking that was here. 
Drapes were drawn over the high windows along one wall, the 
light coming from the glowing flames of new coal gas lamps. 
The candles on the hanging crystal chandelier were unlit.
	Then there was the bedroom. It was big, with a similar 
color scheme and decor as the outer room. The paintings 
hanging on the walls had a feeling of age about them, and the 
mirror opposite the bed reflected the light of more gas lamps. 
The bed... well the huge bed with its satin spread looked about 
the right size to double as a parade ground. No pillows though. 
My luggage was neatly laid out on a bench just inside the 
door, and while I wasn't about to check there and then, the red 
royal seals looked to be intact.
	The ensuite was all fine white tile, green trim, and 
silver fixtures. At one end of the room was a huge bath on a 
dias, at the other water continuously trickled into a basin from 
a silver swan head. The toilet... that was one of those 
convoluted Rris saddle-affairs against the far wall. No door or 
curtain. I'm still not used to the Rris laid-back attitude to bodily 
functions.
	Chaeitch, Rraerch and Marasitha had lodgings in the 
same wing, but their quarters, while plush, weren't on the 
same palatial scale as mine. The guards in the corridors were 
the Land of Water personnel who'd come with us. Obviously 
they were going all out to be hospitable, and probably to 
impress me. The rooms were extravagant in the extreme and 
the extras like the gas lighting, the mirrors and the indoor 
plumbing were the latest word in Rris amenities. They 
probably never realised that to me they were not only 
mundane, but expected. I wondered how long ago they'd been 
installed. Was it just for my sake?
	"Is it to your satisfaction?" Chirét was asking.
	I had to ask. "You've got cable?"
	"Sir?" The confusion on his faced was mingled with a 
flash of what was almost panic.
	"Relax," I sighed. "Old joke. It's most satisfactory."
	"Yes, sir." He still looked decidedly uncertain. Would 
inroads be made in trying to find out exactly what 'cable' was? 
"There will always be someone attendant to your needs. If 
anything is required, at any time, simply inform them. Hiesh," 
he gestured at the steward lurking in the background, "will 
endeavor to fulfil your needs."
	"Thank you," I said and the Host ducked his head, took 
a couple of steps back and turned and stalked away across the 
room toward the antechamber. Hiesh bowed his own head as 
his superior passed and then stiffened again. Okay. Severe 
pecking order. And the servants were probably under strict 
orders and even... I hesitated and looked at the big mirror over 
the fireplace, considering it for a second. Then I shook my 
head: No, that would be ridiculously cliched. I shrugged, then 
headed on back to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway.
	"Hiesh," I turned to the steward.
	"Sir," he flinched.
	"You can relax too," I said, looking at the Rris. I 
couldn't guess his age, but he was elegantly groomed and 
obviously aching to do right. "How much did they tell you about 
me?"
	"Sir?"
	"Is that all you can say? Loosen up a bit. I'm pretty 
informal and I don't bite or scratch. They didn't tell you 
anything about me? I find that hard to believe."
	"Sir, they said to treat you like highborn. Sir."
	"They did, a?"
	"Yes, sir."
	"Did they explain about my smiling?"
	"Smiling, sir?"
	Ohboy. They hadn't told them. "I can't smile like a Rris. 
Different ears, different face. When I smile sometimes I show 
teeth. It's not a hostile gesture, it's just the way I am. 
Understand?"
	"I believe so, Sir."
	"Good," I smiled. He flinched then caught himself. 
"Well, better," I said and turned for the bedroom. "Is there 
somewhere I can unpack my clothes? And no I don't need help; 
I am quite capable of doing it for myself."
	"Of course, Sir."
	"And my name's Michael."
	"Yes, Sir."
	Sigh.

------v------
 
	 Satin sheets were wrapped around my legs. My face 
was flat against more satin, the smooth fabric sliding against 
my beard. I blinked muzzily, still mostly asleep and floating in 
a weird warm place where Chihirae and Jackie were playing 
mahjong.
	"It's morning, Sir," a voice was saying.
	I opened my eyes, blinked. The Voice was right. It was. 
Dim light was filtering in around the side of the curtains, and 
then suddenly flooded the room as the drapes were pulled 
aside. "You slept well I hope, Sir," the steward, Hiesh, was 
saying as he opened the curtains, then came over to stand at 
the side of the bed with his hands clasped before him. "Your 
schedule has been prepared and is waiting on the desk. Her 
highness wishes to start as soon as is possible. Kiesh will 
help you with preperations, Sir. And is there anything you 
would prefer for your breakfast?"
	"Huh?" I responded and struggled to sit up, yawned 
and stretched. Tendons popped and crackled.
	"Breakfast, Sir?" He was staring. Not at me. Matter of 
fact he was being pointedly careful not to stare at me by 
keeping his eyes locked very fixedly at a point over my head. I 
scratched my chest, amused, then his question registered.
	"Oh," crap, I hated not being able to order a simple 
continental. "Bread rolls or grains are fine. Cooked eggs are 
good. Not too much meat, and if there is make sure it's very 
well cooked. Almost burnt please." By Rris standards that 
would be medium rare.
	"Yes, Sir," he said and went to organize it.
	Outside, it promised to be another flawless day. The 
sun was low, turning the horizon white and leaving the sky 
overhead a deep and bottomless blue. Young light touched the 
hills, washing over the golden grasslands around the palace. I 
stood in the window and admired the view as I ran through a 
few vigorous stretches, then a few dozen crunches and 
pressups. Going for a run would have been a good start to the 
day but I wasn't sure how my hosts would have taken it.
	I'd was on my dozenth crunch when I heard the voice 
venture, "Sir?" I kept going but glanced  around at the Rris 
standing in the doorway, carrying an armful of blankets and 
staring at me. I guess it had good cause: it's not everyday you 
walk into a room to find a giant hairless ape lying on the floor, 
feet tucked under the edge of the bed and repeatedly folding 
and unfolding himself.
	"A?" I grunted as I touched elbow to knee. "I'll be done 
in a few minutes."
	It... she was still there when I'd finished. As I got up her 
ears went back and she got that look that said she was 
seriously thinking about running. "Can I help you?" I asked, 
grabbing a towel and wiping sweat away from my eyes. "I met 
you last night? You're on staff?"
	"Sir," the Rris with the stack of linen squeaked, then 
tried again. "Sir, we were told to attend you."
	"Attend me?" I wasn't entirely sure what that meant.
	"Yes, sir," she squeaked again and glanced around, as 
if looking for someone else. "To assist you this morning."
	"With what?"
	Her ears went back and she was looking positively 
distraught. "Sir, anything you need. I... I'm here to clean. I 
didn't mean to stare sir. I'm sorry."
	"Ah, Okay. Thank you. Don't worry. Go ahead," I said 
and caught myself before I smiled at her, then slung the towel 
around my shoulders and headed for the bathroom.
	The bath was impressive: sunken into its dais and 
lined with white tiles painted with small green lillies, it was big 
enough to be a small swimming pool. The faucet was a big 
silver sluice and definitely not mass produced judging by the 
quality of the engraving on it. There was hot water. Well, tepid 
at best, but the morning wasn't cold and it was a bearable 
substitute for a brisk shower. Arranged along the side of the 
bath were brushes, things designed for raking through Rris fur 
and coarse enough to scratch me raw. The soap was the grey, 
grainy stuff like coagulated porridge with sand in it so common 
here. Horrible to use, but it was all there was. I dunked my 
head, rinsing the coarse stuff out of my hair, and when I lifted it 
again there was another Rris standing there and staring at me.
	The rotted groom there to 'attend' me, which included 
helping me wash. I had to persuade him that I was quite 
capable of doing that by myself myself, but did agree to let him 
lay out my clothes. That was enough to salve his professional 
pride and give me some privacy.
	Although when I saw what he'd laid out I started to wish 
I'd brought Tich along.
	 
------<o>------

	If the day had started off hectic enough, the pace picked 
up. Within an hour I was walking the corridors of yet another 
alien palace. Chaeitch, Rraerch, and Chriét had been waiting in 
the antechamber when I'd come out of the bedroom, Chaeitch 
chittering aloud, Rraerch looking distinctly amused and the 
Host seemingly a little bemused. They'd been there long 
enough to overhear my... discussion with the groom over the 
outfit. Is it really so difficult to understand that pants with tail 
slits might not be appreciated by someone without a tail?
	That had been sorted out. My clothes might have been 
a peculiar cut by Rris standards, slacks and a loose-shirt 
weren't haute couture here, but it was a cut that fit me. I'd had 
them custom made by one of the best tailors in Shattered 
Water, using my well-worn clothes from home as patterns. The 
materials were unorthodox, but they were comfortable. I'd also 
unpacked my laptop from its padded and sealed travelcase 
and carefully slung that over my shoulder. Back home it'd 
been expensive; here, 'priceless' still didn't come close to 
describing it.
	A small procession made its way from the guest 
quarters into the halls of the palace. The Shattered Water Rris -  
Chaeitch, Rraerch and the guards - and I were escorted by 
Open Fields royal guards in a cordon around us, some in front 
and some behind. Their weapons were holstered or sheathed 
and secured with yellow ribbons. A mark of courtesy Rraerch 
told me, showing that the weapons couldn't drawn quickly.
	Soldiery was becoming a part of the background by 
then. It wasn't difficult to not even notice them while seeing the 
rest of the world. Sunlight flooding in through windows we 
walked past was warm against my skin and gleamed off 
marble floors and expensive ornamentation in the palace 
halls. Outside the heavens were a cloudless blue vault, 
arching high above a vista of summer-golden grass and the 
green of trees. It was shaping up to be a beautiful day.
	We walked through marble halls and past history. Not a 
human history, but it was still a past deeper and richer than my 
young United States had known. There were tapestries and 
paintings hundreds of years old. There were cracked and time-
bleached wooden totems imbued with the ghosts of scents of 
notable Rris long-dead when Lincoln was in diapers; polished 
maple wall panels with bas-relief carvings depicting stories of 
people and places, no two the same.
	Chaeitch prodded me with a claw and reminded me that 
we did have an appointment to keep.
	It was in an audience chamber off a suite in the 
southeastern wing of the palace. The setting was informal and 
minimalist. The room was bright, with light colors: pale creams 
and white embossed wallpaper void of any pictures and coarse 
woven white rattan carpeting. A dozen floor cushions with side 
tables were arranged in a circle, nine of them occupied by Rris. 
The only one I recognized was the Lady H'risnth. She was 
across the room, on her cushion in a pool of sunlight flooding 
through the windows at her back. Daylight flared from her loose 
white cotton blouse and the golden torc around her neck.
	Rris gaped and openly stared at me. The Lady simply 
inclined her head and for a second I thought I saw a flicker of 
amusement. "Good morning, Mikah. You slept well?"
	"Very well, thank you, Ma'am," I bowed. "My thanks to 
you and your staff for your hospitality."
	"And our thanks to you for being here today," she 
smiled. "Please, sit."
	I carefully folded myself down to the indicated cushion 
then unslung the laptop and placed it on the table beside me. 
Rris watched me. I guessed that a lot if not most of them had 
probably been in that crowd the previous night, they'd seen me 
before, but I was still a novelty. Chaeitch and Rraerch took the 
vacant cushions to either side. I saw Rraerch give me a careful 
glance: trying to judge my mood.
	"Good folk," The Lady said to the assembled 
personages, "your presence today is an honor. Our guests 
have come a long way and the least we can do is ensure it is 
worth their while. I am sure this [something] will be prove to be 
a productive and peaceable forerunner of many more such 
unions."
	I almost frowned. There was a phrase I didn't know. And 
underlying all that there was something else. A warning? I 
didn't have time to puzzle over it. After that little speech The 
Lady settled back, folded her hands and let the Rris to her 
immediate right - an advisor - take over. Her amber eyes 
turned to me and she blinked, lazily it seemed, and I had to 
turn my attention to the advisor.
	 It was introductions first. The Rris in the room were 
leading Guildmasters; those the Open Fields government had 
considered highest priority. They knew I was only there for a 
limited time, so they'd picked representatives from various 
guilds and institutions. There was the Metalworkers and 
Miners Guild administrator; the printing guildmaster; 
Merchants and Traders master; a representative from the 
Engineering Guild; a couple from the University, one of them a 
'life-studier'. In other words a biologist. They were fields that 
they thought could profit the most in the time available. No 
military representatives there. Or rather, nobody was 
introduced as outright military. But when it came down to it, a 
farmer was a military resource.
	Reactions to the introductions were... mixed, to a 
certain extent. They were there by the good graces of the 
government and they knew it. They were courteous, polite and 
a couple of them, the biologist, seemed openly friendly, but it 
was difficult to tell for sure. They'd doubtless been briefed 
about me, and it'd doubtless been made absolutely clear to 
them that if any of them gave me any trouble their hides would 
be used as doormats. So they were as gracious and polite as 
they might be to her highness herself. I only noticed a couple 
of instances of ears twitching back, of lips flicking back from 
sharp teeth.
	I was getting used to meeting Rris. It didn't work both 
ways. There were a lot more of them than there were of me. But 
they were willing to listen to me, and especially to what I could 
give them. Greed is a powerful incentive when it comes to 
circumventing prejudices.
	They were primarily interested in industrial 
applications. Especially where they could be applied to their 
mining and refining industries. Iron and steel were major 
industries in Cover My Tail, so therefore so were 
transportation, coal and coke mines and products related to 
them, like the increasing demand for coal gas. New techniques 
and equipment were of serious interest to them.
	And so was the fact that Land of Water had massively 
improved steam engines and that these engines required high-
grade coal to run. It wasn't difficult to see that if these 
machines gained in popularity then there would be a 
corresponding demand for fuel. You could almost hear the 
cash registers ringing up the totals in their heads.
	Those engines also provided opportunities and 
solutions to other problems. Like improved pumps and lifts for 
deeper mines; like boats and trains that could haul more goods 
further and faster; like reduced workforces and therefore 
reduced costs. Just one technology could start an avalanche of 
other possibilities, each bringing with them further 
opportunities. These Rris were businessmen. I could 
practically see their nostrils twitching as they scented rich 
meat in the air. 
	And through it all the Lady H'risnth sat quietly and 
watched, seeming almost disinterested in the whole thing.  She 
watched, she twitched an occasional ear, but she didn't say 
anything. She watched me, I know that. Once I glanced at her 
and caught her eye and I'm sure I caught a flicker of an 
amused smile, as if there was a joke between us, quickly 
hidden again under serene imperturbability.
	I'd been warned that she was a sharp player, but for 
some reason she was sitting this one out.
	"And are these designs so difficult to produce?" the 
Metalworkers master was asking me. He may have been one 
of the most powerful members of that guild, but he had spent 
time actually working at the craft. He knew a thing or two about 
the subject. Probably more than I did when it came down to the 
practical aspects of ironmongery.
	"Sir, some of the innovations look simple enough, but if 
they're not carried out correctly and with the right materials, 
they can be lethal. Simply raising the pressure of boilers is 
pointless if the plating and seams won't take the extra strain. 
And simply making the walls thicker makes it more expensive, 
larger and heavier and therefore any extra power you gain 
from the size is lost in simply moving the engine and its fuel."
	He looked thoughtful. "And these materials and tools for 
manufacturing, they are complicated."
	"Some of them extremely so."
	"So of course we would be buying them from you."
	Chaeitch stepped in: "Initially, yes. For the time it took 
you to develop your own. Which I'm sure you could do in 
admirable time."
	I saw the guildmaster's head go up fractionally and 
there were slight movements from the others: shifting weight, 
twitches of tails, flicks of ears... Lady H'risnth glanced at me 
again and I saw her pupils dilate momentarily. Two years I'd 
been there and I still couldn't interpret most of that body 
language. The head going back in a human would have been 
wariness, but in them I thought it was something a little like... 
would pride be the word?
	It was dangerous ground for me. That was why Chaeitch 
and Rraerch were there.
	"Faster than we were able to," Chaeitch drove it home. 
"We've been down that trail so we know exactly what will have 
to be done and the footsteps to follow to get there. You won't 
be going off down any of those interesting dead ends."
	It sounded good. Like the computer industry back 
home: You can buy the product, brand spanking new off the 
assembly line, but the supplier will always still be a few steps 
ahead of you. If you want to troubleshoot or upgrade, then you 
and your cash'll have to go back to them. By the time Open 
Fields got any sort of engine running, Shattered Water would 
have the next generation.
	The morning continued in that vein. Each side trying to 
take while making it look like they were giving. Which is what 
salesmanship - and politics - is all about. It all felt decidedly... 
unclean.
	I didn't have any regrets about my chosen career path.
	Except that my former career was as a graphic artist, 
not an engineer. My training was in arts and design. My work 
exposed me to a lot of different fields, but only fractional 
aspects of them. In the past I'd produced brochures for 
vineyards, interactive displays for pumping manufacturers, 
animations for tool manufacturers and shows for petfood 
producers. I'd covered some aspects of those industries in 
detail while other sections I didn't have the foggiest idea 
about. When it came to retooling a society on the cusp of an 
industrial revolution, artistic ability didn't rank highly on the 
scale of desirable skills.
	I was all they were going to get.

------<o>------

	Our hosts must've been aware of my limitations and 
my difficulties with the Rris language. Speaking a tongue my 
vocal chords had never been intended to speak for any period 
of time was uncomfortable for me. Actually physically 
debilitating in fact. They made sure my water glass was full, 
the servants also bringing trays of snacks and titbits which 
were good excuses to shut up for a few seconds. Some of the 
hot pastries they brought through were extremely good, 
although the way the Rris watched me masticate each mouthful 
made me feel like I was putting on a sideshow for them. If they 
were annoyed by the interruptions, they didn't give any 
outward signs of it.
	There were so many of those little snacks that when the 
stewards announced that the midday meal was ready, it came 
as a surprise. I hadn't felt the slightest bit hungry, but when I 
looked at the window the shadows were shorter: it was noon. 
Time had passed faster than I'd expected.
	Lunch was served in an adjoining room. White gauze 
curtains billowed into the room like insubstantial sails. Behind 
them an entire wall of french windows opened onto a vista of 
summer skies and the grass and tree covered hillsides of the 
palace grounds. Food was laid out on the huge table in the 
center of the room and as you might have expected, it was a 
lavish spread with bowls and trays of assorted meats and 
pastries and breads and more meats. The plates were a fine 
porcelain, looking a feeling a little like bone china. The cutlery 
was silver, and polished spotless. I was able to use the Rris 
utensils pretty well by then. At least, the forks and knives I 
didn't have any problem with, it was the things like chopsticks 
with little tines on the ends I had a bit of trouble with. I was all 
too aware of the Rris watching me as I manipulated bits of food 
from my plate to my mouth. Her ladyship... I glanced her way 
to see her staring back, just staring unblinkingly at me with her 
head tipped slightly to the side and an expression that might 
have been amusement insinuating itself about her features. 
Might have been. I wasn't sure.
There was an appetizer of filleted slivers of fish marinated in 
wine. The main course was some kind of tiny birds, roasted 
and filled with a mildly spicey stuffing. I felt a pang of 
apprehension when I tasted that.
	"Not to your taste?" Chaeitch inquired. I looked up. I 
hadn't realized I'd reacted to that mouthful and now all the Rris 
were staring at me.
	"It's very good," I said. "But the spice in this..." I trailed 
off, gesturing at the main course.
	"It's all quite safe," the life-studier spoke up. "If that's 
what you were referring to. There was a list..." he also 
hesitated, looking around at the others as if he might have 
committed a faux pas.
	Chaetich's ears twitched and he looked at my dish. 
"There's nothing you haven't eaten before," he said and 
added, "Safely," with another flick of his ears.
	They'd tried to think of everything, hadn't they. The 
reassurances helped, but...
	I glanced around the table. Rris nobility stared back. A 
circle of feline features watching me, hands hovering halfway 
between plate and mouth with food momentarily forgotten. 
They were curious, I could see that, but they didn't ask. When I 
took another mouthful there was an almost imperceptible ripple 
around the table: a loosening of tension, a relaxing of ears and 
muscles in our hosts.
	I'd been honest when I'd said the stuff was good. It 
was. It was simply experience making me wary. The 
unpleasant experience I'd had with Rris condiments hadn't 
killed me, not quite, but it'd certainly been enough to make 
sure I'd never forget it. There'd been suggestions of poison, 
but in the end it'd seemed most likely that it'd been a flavoring 
the Rris used like we used peppers. Harmless to them, toxic to 
me. I'd made my own cook quite aware that experimentation in 
his cooking wasn't a good idea, not without being absolutely 
sure. But my hosts and my friends were assuring me the food 
was safe and I had to trust somebody. 
	Sounds of cutlery and enthusiastic Rris mastication 
provided a background to the conversation, which drifted back 
to technical talk interspersed with questions about other 
subjects. Like the impromptu language lessons, a single topic 
could branch off into all sorts of unexpected scenic routes. A 
simple question about the construction of new smelting 
facilities led off into questions about supplies of kiln lining 
material from Shattered Water, exchanges of coke and iron 
ore, possibility of drawing and fabrication machinery and 
questions about production capability from back home. That 
last one... I didn't really have the foggiest idea. But I dropped 
some figures I did know, like GMs annual production numbers 
from a couple of years back. The Metalworkers' Guildmaster 
almost choked on his mouthful. 
	The plans for the afternoon revolved around a flying 
tour of some of their facilities. On the list were a coal mine, a 
foundry and metal workshop, and lumber and a grain mill, all 
out in the western districts of Open Fields. Chriét handled the 
summary of the programme, quite transparent in his efforts at 
applying a gloss to the descriptions to make it sound like the 
glittering tour that it obviously wasn't.
	 The Lady sat quietly, decorously lapping from a small 
china cup as the Host enthusiastically described the program, 
using quite a few elaborate adjectives I didn't know. She was 
watching me, I was quite aware of that, and it rattled me a bit. I 
could feel the stare and every time I glanced at her those 
amber eyes were on me. She didn't speak, just watched.
	When the meal was done the Host politely announced 
the carriages were waiting. I rose with the Rris and before 
leaving bowed to the Lady, thanking her for the hospitality.
	With graceful ease the Lady returned the bow. "The 
pleasure was mine," she rumbled, then smiled slightly and 
blinked slowly at me.
	I was staring. I felt a hot flush climbing up from my 
collar as I turned away. Out in the hall Chaeitch smirked at me, 
lolling his tongue slightly.
	"Oh, shut up," I growled out of the corner of my mouth.
	He just looked smug. 
	 
------<o>------