Chapter Nine
Tallyn traversed the long, pillared hall to the Council’s chamber, his footsteps echoing. The Council building was intended to intimidate, but Tallyn had been here many times, and its grandeur had lost its effect. He hated meetings with the Council, which demanded detailed explanations and endless reports. The novelty of discussing his work with such august persons had worn off when he had become aware of their weaknesses.
A quartet of Draycon guards waited outside the doors, dressed in blood-red uniforms and horned helmets that concealed their features. He frowned, wishing his audience did not coincide with the Draycons’ visit; he had a particular disliking for the much-despised race. The Council often did this to impress such visitors with its busy schedule and important meetings, when, in truth, it had little to occupy its time, and its members spent most of it bickering amongst themselves. Atlan’s efficient civil service made the Council all but obsolete, yet the grizzled oldsters who comprised it refused to allow a modern government to replace them. This, Tallyn reflected, was one of the disadvantages of Atlanteans’ lengthy lifespans; it slowed progress.
The guards stood aside for him, and he stopped just inside the doorway. Two people addressed Vargon, their backs to the doors. After a few minutes, Vargon signalled to Tallyn to approach. As he did so, the aliens turned to face him. Hiding the shock of recognition behind a bland mask, he inclined his head and spoke the required words of greeting.
The tall, thin woman nodded in reply. Her bright green eyes spat venom in a narrow, angular face. Ridges of raised grey scales ran down the bridge of her nose, along her brows and around the edge of her jaw. Her rough grey skin resembled sharkskin, and the long, feather-like scales atop her head rattled when she moved. Although her physique was similar to an Atlantean’s, her hands, which rested on a pair of curved daggers in her belt, were more like claws; three long fingers flanked by a short thumb and a vestigial fourth finger above the wrist. A suit of finely woven red metallic cloth, rather like chain mail, sheathed her mannish figure. A gold chain encircled her waist and more were looped under her armpits, attached to the beading on her broad shoulders. Her coat hung to mid-thigh, and thick-soled black boots shod her feet. The male who stood beside her was almost identical in appearance and dress, but a little shorter and less imposing.
Tallyn met the woman’s cold eyes. “Drevina; how nice of you to visit. We’re always pleased to see you. At least that way we know what you’re up to.”
Drevina’s lips drew back to reveal pink teeth. “Tallyn, your wits are as sharp as ever. Pity you don’t put them to better use.”
He bowed mockingly. “I can think of no greater challenge than to pit them against yours, and your delightful brother, of course. Is he potty trained yet? Mertar, it’s good to see you.”
Mertar snarled. Drevina raised a claw, and he subsided. She said, “You’ve always thrived on petty insults. They must be your speciality.”
“Never as good as yours; I always bow to your superiority.”
Drevina ignored the jibe. “You’ve been visiting the Chandra system a lot recently. Any particular reason?”
“Chandra? Oh, Ellath Three, you mean. Well, it’s undergoing some interesting changes, not that it’s any of your business.”
“You chased four of my ships from there, four years ago; that’s my business.”
“They had no right to be there. Picking over the bones of fallen civilisations may be your speciality, but that system falls within our territory.”
She showed her teeth again. “The Chandra system has never been disputed, yet I fail to see why you protect such a useless planet. My ships did not change its fate. We did nothing to interfere, only took a few materials.”
“Well, you can go there as much as you wish now. The atmosphere would fry even you.”
“Empress Drevina, you have yet to state your business with the Council,” Vargon said, his voice deceptively mild. “Fascinating though your discourse with Commander Tallyn may be, we really should get to the point, don’t you think?”
Drevina glared at Tallyn before facing the Council again. “We’re here to lay claim to a new solar system in the Vega Nebula. We discovered it several weeks ago. Naturally, it’s uninhabited, but we brought a recording of it for you.”
“How kind,” Vargon muttered rather sarcastically as Mertar pulled a black box from his belt. He detached two metal discs and placed them on the floor, one on top of the other. He then aimed the black box at the two discs, and the topmost one rose two metres into the air. Between the two, a holographic field sprang into existence. The images were dull and rather hazy, but sufficiently clear to make out a white dwarf and an aged orange sun in a binary system. Five planets and a debris ring orbited the orange sun at widely spaced intervals.
Drevina gestured to the image. “Four of the planets are useless. The two farthest are frozen mud and ammonia, the third planet is a gas giant, and the one nearest the sun is extremely hot; a barren rock. We’re interested in the second planet.” The hologram zoomed in on a yellow world, the rest of the solar system vanishing. “It has sulphur clouds and an ammonia-based atmosphere, but we can make it habitable. Its orbit is good.”
“I see.” Vargon nodded as the hologram vanished, then glanced around at the rest of the Council members. “I see no basis for objection. It’s in your territory and looks sufficiently hostile. Do you have an observation, Commander Tallyn?”
“Yes, I’d like to know the real reason for the Empress’ visit. All this could have been done on the space line; there was no need for a meeting.”
Drevina said, “We came here out of courtesy. There is no reason to accuse us of lying.”
“Courtesy! You’re not just here to flaunt your unsavoury goodies. You never have before. Every other such agreement was achieved on a space line, but now suddenly you’re here in person. Are you perhaps spying on us at the same time?”
“You never did have any manners, Tallyn, but why would I want to spy on the Atlanteans? You seldom do anything of interest, and when you do, you always tell everyone about it first.”
“Empress, please,” Vargon soothed. “Commander Tallyn’s suspicions are his own; kindly ignore him. We don’t wish to start a dispute about it. I’m sure your reasons for coming here are spawned purely by a righteous wish to be polite to your friends.”
“Friends!” Drevina snorted, then caught herself and tore her glare from Tallyn, who now wore a bland expression. “Yes, of course.”
“Good. Now that you have told us, it was nice seeing you again, and have a safe journey home.”
Drevina shot Tallyn a last look of unadulterated hatred as she swept out, her brother at her heels. When the brisk tapping of their feet faded to a distant echo, Vargon shook his head at Tallyn in mild reprimand.
“You shouldn’t antagonise her, Commander. You know Draycons have difficulty controlling their tempers. Pointing out the obvious was unnecessary, and only served to anger them. Rest assured, whatever they came here to spy on, they’ve been kept too far away to find out anything. The orbit they were given is barely inside the third moon.”
“Good. But I’d like to know what they’re after. Since they lost the war, they’ve been looking for a way to win the next one.”
Vargon nodded. “As we do. Have one of your scouts investigate the Vega system and report. Now, tell me of your encounter with this black ship.” Vargon settled more comfortably in his hard-backed chair, and the rest of the Council members squirmed and stretched.
At the end of Tallyn’s account, Vargon appeared thoughtful, and the other Council members consulted one another in muttered discussion. When they fell silent, Vargon roused from his reverie.
“So, the girl you found is the Golden Child. This is excellent news. You must extend to her every courtesy, and grant her every wish, as long as it doesn’t put her in danger. All that remains now is to wait. Good work, Commander.”
Tallyn bowed and retreated. Outside, Drevina waited with her escort, tal
king to her brother in the strange, hissing Draycon tongue. She broke off her conversation to approach Tallyn, surrounded by her guards, and he stopped, eyeing her.
She snarled, “One day, Tallyn, I’m going to fix you, permanently.”
“You’ve already tried that. It didn’t work, remember?”
She smiled, her eyes filled with malice. “Next time it will. You’re going to pay for your insults.”
“Is the Drayconar Empire prepared for another war with Atlan? The last one, as I recall, left you nursing a lot of wounds. You should be careful what you say in public places. These walls have ears, and eyes, too, sometimes.”
“Our antagonism is well known, as is your disrespect. The next war between our empires will result in your defeat.”
“Really? It’s lucky for you that we know how often you lie, or that might be taken as a threat.”
Her eyes glinted. “You’ll pay for that too, I promise.”
Drevina spun on her heel and swept away with her escort, Mertar trotting at her side. Their red and black-clad forms radiated hatred, at odds with the peaceful setting of the white-pillared hall. Tallyn knew that provoking Drevina was unwise; he was just never able to resist it. She and her brother ruled the second largest empire after Atlan, and the war had cost millions of Atlantean lives.
The Draycons had attacked undefended planets and outposts, using biological and chemical weapons. The war had ended in resounding defeat for the Draycons when the Atlanteans had blown up their Empress’ palace on Amranon, killing her. Drevina, daughter of the dead Empress, still longed for vengeance. Ten years ago, she had started the Saurian War, but that could never be proven, and the only reason she informed Atlan of her discoveries was a lingering fear of the empire that had killed her mother. Her presence on Atlan worried him; she seemed more confident than before, as if she had a trump card she was about to play.
Draycons had evolved in a distant galaxy, and had moved closer to Atlan when their sun died. The Atlanteans had helped them, but soon learnt the folly of that. Draycon culture, morals and intellect were far more alien than their forms, and to them, helping others was a sign of weakness. Draycons believed that all victories were justified, no matter how they were achieved. A saying had sprung up, which summed up their mentality most succinctly, that a Draycon would stab you in the back with the knife he had borrowed from you.
Nothing was beneath them, if it gave them an advantage. Physically they were tough, able to withstand extreme conditions and breathe poisonous air. Those who had studied them had deduced that they originated on an unstable, continually changing hellhole, like a planet with an extended elliptical orbit, which became terribly hot as it passed close to its sun, then freezing cold as it moved away. Now they dwelt uncomfortably close, a mere fifteen hundred light years distant, in the Regal solar system.