"And you will not," Yaut said, assuming the rather aggressive posture of rightful-inquiry. "I make myself of use as fraghta to the new Subcommandant, Aille krinnu ava Pluthrak, who wishes to consult with veterans of the local conquest that he might have the benefit of their hard-won wisdom."
"Pluthrak? Here?" The male's face contorted. "Since when?"
"Last-sun," Yaut said patiently. "Have you any veterans available?"
A doorfield dissolved at the opposite end of the large room, admitting a female, along with a veritable haze of tak, so rich it brought visions of ceremonial food and clothing to mind. He blinked hard, remembering. . . .
The walls at Jithra had been done in dark-blue and silver, the floors in gold. He and his agemates had hunted in the sea for tasty mirrat, small finned swimmers which only migrated through the area at that time of the orbital cycle. He could still taste their salty freshness.
But there was something odd here, as well. A strange noise of some sort, coming from the chamber from which the female had emerged. A series of noises, rather, strung together in a complex and oddly mesmerizing fashion. It was an alien sound.
"Ammet," the male said. "The new Subcommandant is Pluthrak!"
She sauntered forward, disbelief written in the lines of her massive neck and shoulders. One of her ears was damaged and drooped toward her cheek. "Not here," she said. "Pluthrak would never—"
She cut off her words, as if with a blade. Obviously enough, she had suddenly seen the chasm of great kochan rivalry gaping wide before her. Binnat was a respected kochan, to be sure, but too small and weakly associated to want to be caught between Narvo and Pluthrak.
All these Binnat were off-duty, of course, and this was meant as a place of repose, but Yaut sensed a vein of something deeper at work, indolence and disregard, even discontent. Alarm prickled up his back. He had thought the Narvo Governor's discipline sadly lacking, but this went beyond simple lack of discipline.
"I seek veterans," he said sternly, "to be interviewed this late-sun."
"We two could go." The male glanced around. "Do you require more than that?"
"Two will suffice for now, though the Subcommandant may ask for more later," Yaut said and turned to go. "Present yourselves at the Refit Facility." He would let Aille handle their attitude and see how the youngster acquitted himself. It would make for an interesting learning experience at the very least.
Still puzzled by the sound, he glanced through the still-open door to the chamber. From the new angle, he could peer within. To his astonishment, he saw a human working at some sort of large machine, while several Jao sat nearby watching the creature. A moment later, he realized that the machine was producing the noise.
His surprise was great enough to override politeness. "What is that? And I thought humans were not allowed here."
The two veterans glanced back. When their eyes returned to Yaut, he saw that their postures were a sloppy rendition of uneasy-defiance.
"It is called a 'piano,' " the female named Ammet said.
"What he is doing is called 'music,' " added the male veteran. Now, the defiance in his posture shaded toward something close to outright-challenge. "We like it."
* * *
It was not until he'd emerged from the association hall that Yaut realized neither of them had explained the violation of rules regarding the presence of the human. But he was not surprised. It was indeed as Aille had told him the kochanata experts had foreseen. Narvo was losing its grip on this world. Everything was askew. An official posture of Jao supremacy—in the familiar unrelenting Narvo manner—combined with discordant admixtures everywhere. Threads unraveling instead of coming together.
Yaut had never seen anything like it, on any conquered planet he had visited or served upon. This was not association. This was madness, growing.
Chapter 8
Caitlin Stockwell generally avoided people, as she went about her business on campus. They were really just acquaintances, anyway, with a few exceptions, people who wanted to know her because of who her father was and her family's prominence. They just wanted to use her, basically.
Of course, she thought, walking along the winding river path on her way back to the dorm, the Jao wanted to use her too. They were just more open about it. Everyone and everything should be of use, according to their philosophy.
She glanced over her shoulder, but Banle was giving her space for now, hanging back in the shade about twenty feet, probably to spare her eyes from the bright light. Fortunately, the campus was mostly deserted in August, with only a handful of graduate students and professors in residence, either finishing up summer work or preparing for the fall. Everyone who had a decent home had already left.