Ochoa
IT WAS HELL TO HAVE TO GET MOST OF THE NEWS AND INFORMATION second- or thirdhand, but Tann Nakitt did what she could. Maybe she didn’t have a translator and might never afford one, but you would have thought that the crew of these big international ships would all have them, she thought sourly.
They didn’t, though. Only the officers and some of the mates were so outfitted. It made things simpler when things got rough. You might desert if you could speak all the languages and negotiate your way home and onto other ships, but you wouldn’t be much of a risk if the only others who could understand you were those who spoke the nautical shorthand language developed over thousands of years for the crews, and your own, often unique tongue which others might not even recognize as a language.
Nakitt could still remember Ghoman, which was even less useful here than on, say, the City of Modar, and the Realm’s standard commercial language, which might help if she ever encountered one of those who got here the same way she did. On the other hand, she thought automatically in Ochoan now, a language so unlike the other two that none who didn’t have the right physical equipment in the throat, which meant being of the Ochoan race, could hear it as more than grunts, growls, squeeks, clicks, and squawks.
Anyway, the officers tended to deal only with the nobility like His Lordship, and the mates dealt with the heads of the stores and senior trade representatives, such as there were here, and not at all with the common folk who were always flitting around, asking a million questions and just generally getting in the way.
More than once she considered stowing away, perhaps after the great ships were well out to sea, but there were a lot of grim tales of such stowaways being worked like slaves then tossed overboard before the next port, and while most were exaggerations and many were doubtless fanned by shipping companies, there were the occasional really rotten crews, so you couldn’t tell for sure. Tann Nakitt knew that the best con men were the ones you’d embrace and then buy dinner and toast their good health even when they were stealing you blind.
Hell, in reverse circumstances, that’s what she’d do.
In a sense, that was the real problem with this new race, new life, new future. Not where or what, but the fact that Tann Nakitt had been born and raised a Ghoman, and had felt real pride and a sense of belonging because of that. You might lie, cheat, and steal for Ghoma, and you might even do it to alien races for the fun and profit of it, but you didn’t do that to your own people. After living years of the crooked but quite pleasant life, Nakitt had been asked by his people to put his unique talents to patriotic use, and it had been done almost without thinking, almost as a way of justifying being a con artist and general scoundrel. Maybe the gods of Ghoma had steered this course in their service. Now that was gone. Even if she were to somehow return to the Realm, she’d not only not be a Ghoman, she’d not be related to any known race or world. Oh, there was probably an Ochoan world there someplace in the vast universe, but that, too, wouldn’t be the same.
And if that was taken from her, what was left? Only the scoundrel.
Haqua and Czua, on the other hand, she had grown very fond of, but what was their future? They didn’t even have any of the worldly experiences of a Tann Nakitt, nor know of other worlds and what it was like to be someone, something, else. There was still something within the newcomer that they found attractive, though; a confidence and arrogance that usually radiated from males. It wouldn’t last, though. Hormones would win out during the mating season, if not the forthcoming one then the next. Nobody stayed unmarried here. Biology and the system both worked too much against it. Worse, as orphans of no clear bloodline, they were doomed to be low ranking wives, the kind that did the work and got little of the rewards.
“So, Nakitti, what were you doing over on High Katoor?” Czua asked her. “I saw you there by the forest.” High Katoor was an island up the chain, perhaps five kilometers away, lush but essentially uninhabited. Where it wasn’t too high to be comfortable, it was too overgrown, and far be it that the Ochoans would stoop to actually developing such a place.
“I was mixing drugs and poisons,” Tann Nakitt responded matter of factly.
“You weren’t! Come. What were you really doing over there?”
“Having secret romantic trysts with my countless boy toys,” he replied in the same tone. In fact, he’d answered her query fairly truthfully the first time. She’d been using her old knowledge of chemistry, particularly biochemistry, and matching it with information on drugs and poisons gleaned from the bored keepers of the various ship’s berths in the chain, and with old political hands among Ochoans who were delighted to tell much of their knowledge of what did what to whom. Some of it was pure old wives’ tales and folklore, but others had clear effect and were actually used in medicines and various treatments the same way a doctor might prescribe a headache pill in a more progressive nation. So much of poisons were part of folk medicines, and this knowledge was always passed down to those with an aptitude for it. Though hardly an expert yet, she had made some rather remarkable discoveries about various plants and mineral combinations here.
“Oh, very well! If you will not tell, you will not. Did you see the two ships come in this morning before dawn?”
“I saw them after they docked, yes,” Nakitt responded. “More refugees, more sad faces, more evidence of war in the west. What is most upsetting is that the traffic seems one way. They are coming from the west to the east through us. That implies that trade in the eastern Overdark is just about at a standstill, or at least relegated to the coastal trade. This Josich and his family are unbelievably fast and efficient.”
“But it is so far away from here. What is it to us?”
Tann Nakitt looked back out at the ocean in the distance and took a deep breath. “We too lightly follow easy gods of good and plenty,” she commented philosophically. “We even celebrate the rogues and rascals now and then, the gods of drink and revelry. We dismiss evil as a simple mental disorder. ‘Oh, he had an abusive mother,’ or ‘Oh, she had her brains scrambled by drugs,’ and we excuse the most terrible of behaviors as simply excesses of what we know. Believe it, girl. There is true evil. Not merely as a counter to good and as some kind of relative moral judgment we can adjust up or down to suit our moods—real evil, existing for its own sake.”
“You are scaring me now.”
“I am scared myself, and for good reason. I’ve seen faces like those in the ships before, and I know that if those faces exist here, this far away from the horror, then what is happening back there is almost beyond our imagining. But that’s no devil or demon out there; it’s no bad god or nasty spirits. They are flesh and blood, the worst kind of evil.” She looked out again, as if trying to see something beyond the ability of eyes and ears and nose to see. Looked out as she’d been looking out since she’d seen that first shipload of refugees.
“They’ll be coming one day for us,” she said with a shudder. “What will we do when they come? Where will we run? To whom will we be able to turn? That is why I am learning what I need to learn. I do not necessarily believe in destiny, but somehow I think I’ve been dropped here because I know how to help. Maybe not win, but help. I wish I could convince any of the young men of this, let alone the noble houses. They all think I’m off the wall and over the cliffs on this. I’m sure that’s what they thought, too. Their leaders, that is. The ones who told those in those ships, and also told the ones who didn’t get to the ships, not to worry about it.”
“Well, I am worried about it,” said a melodic male voice behind her. She almost jumped, and turned to see the large and imposing figure of the young Baron Oriamin. The sight of such a personage in this peasant rookery was not only unexpected, it was almost unprecedented, not to mention downright embarrassing. But Czua wasn’t embarrassed at all; she was in absolute awe of the man, who was just about everything a young Ochoan female dreamed about in a man.
“My Lord Baron! Please, pardon my dark musings! I had no idea . . .” Nakitt stumbled, spreading her wings and bowing low.
The Baron was a well-known figure in the region, but generally lived on the family peak with its castlelike fortress built out of solid rock, and didn’t mix much with the common folk. They’d seen him only from a great distance before, and now, close up, he lived up to his billing.
“Please do not feel put out. I did not expect that you would be waiting for me. I am pleased, however, that you know who I am.”
As if anybody locally didn’t! And he knew it quite well. The guys didn’t do a heck of a lot here, but he sure played his royal breeding well. He also seemed to ooze sexiness on an Ochoan standard, with a commanding voice, huge physical presence, and emanating male sexual hormones that could melt the strongest minds. Nakitt felt the effects and fought mightily against the chemistry causing it. Poor Czua had the look of a mindless panting love slave.
“Please forgive the look of this place, my Lord Baron,” Nakitt managed. “Can I—we—get you something to drink?”
The Baron seemed amused by the idea of consuming anything at this socioeconomic level. “Thank you, no. You are called Nakitti, I believe?”
“Yes, my Lord Baron.”
“Things are beginning to pop, hopefully ahead of our common enemies. There is to be a gathering in a few weeks time at Zone to discuss a common policy and strategy to deal with all of this. Much advance work is even now being done and will be revealed there. You come from the same time and space as this mad Empress, do you not?”
“Yes, my Lord Baron. What Josich attempts here is the same as what he attempted back in the confederation called the Realm. He was a male then, an Emperor, self-appointed and self-proclaimed.”
“And this consortium defeated Josich?”
“In a sense, my Lord Baron. It stopped him. It did not, however, catch him. He remained in a hidden empire of criminal organizations for a very long time, and he came here because, after more than a century, they finally did catch him, but at a point where the way here was opened.”
“And you are here, sacrificing your race, your future, everything you had, to continue to pursue him?”
Yeah, sure. “We are dedicated to such a goal, my Lord Baron!”
It wasn’t clear if the Baron believed that or not. Still he said, “I want you to come with me to Castle Oriamin. It has been suggested that you may be of great value in the coming fight. I am leading a delegation to this conference and I need to know much more before I go.”
“I would be honored, my Lord Baron, but is it not true that even your servants are of royal blood? Pardon, but I beg your understanding of my worries about such a situation. I fear that if I were to stay there, I would spend so much time bowing and addressing everyone as superior to the point where I would be less than nothing.”
The Baron seemed genuinely amused by the response, which covered an area that had never occurred to him. “Well, then, we’ll have to give you some kind of status. I cannot, of course, give you blood royal, since only birth can do that, but I can confer the status of concubine, which will give you status as a member of the household. We can have someone teach you the basics of being a courtesan. That way we will have you as a resource.”
“I—uh . . .” Tann Nakitt didn’t know what to say. It was everything she’d been trying to connive and more all rolled into one, and it had simply walked up and knocked!
The Baron mistook the hesitancy. “Please consider it. We need you, and, as I say, many in positions far beyond Ochoa believe you should be included in this. We will see to it that your friends here are well taken care of, if that is a consideration.”
Through the desire, through the sexual turn-on, through the shock at suddenly being “in,” Tann Nakitt’s basic nature, as they always warned about such types, came to the fore. “I shall be honored, my Lord Baron, if my friends are looked after and if my personal honor is satisfied as you suggest. I am always and forever at the command of my adopted nation.”
This type always loved to be stroked, she thought. She could see in his manner that he was pleased by this response.
“I have a busy schedule. Can you say your farewells and leave with me this day?” he asked her. “I should like to get you settled in before I need to go to a local conference with the military district.”
Tann Nakitt sighed. “Well, I would have loved to have said farewell to Haqua, who is a fisher today, and I am certain that she will be devastated at having missed your visit. Still, dear Czua, you will convey my deep affection to her when she returns, won’t you?”
Czua managed a puzzled look in her direction, and she knew it might have been a little thick. In fact, the look was a lot more like, I’m envious, you bastard! I hope you smother on his first embrace! Oh, well.
“Just let me gather together my few possessions and I am yours to command, my Lord Baron,” she said with as much humility as she could muster.
Hell, wasn’t this how Josich had started out under similar circumstances?
Look out, Well World! Tann Nakitt’s back in the game!
Well, not exactly back in her game.
Ochoans lived in the cliffs and hillsides and had made small cities out of buttes and mesas, but the nobles lived far better, higher up, of course, than the common cliff cities, and in massive castles hewn out of solid rock. As with the cities and towns below, there were no roads to these places, no ropes and pulleys and cables. When your population could fly, these weren’t necessary to get in and out, and when supplies were required, they could be brought in by strong flying teams or hoisted on steam-driven platforms that could also be quickly disassembled.
The grand, polished face of Castle Oriamin showed a dwelling of perhaps seven stories more than a kilometer in the air, as often as not above rather than below the clouds that formed as the winds blew over the warm ocean and were lifted up to climb the mountains. The castle was also hundreds of meters long, and clearly was the home to a great many people. There was no fetch and carry for water here, either; running water from the frequent rains and mists came right through the place, then exited as a series of smaller waterfalls. In between they were diverted to fountains for drinking, baths for bathing, and a system of cisterns that allowed wastes from the population to be carried out the bottom and drop with the spent water into the ocean far below.
Even Tann Nakitt was impressed. Now this was more like it!
The Baron had already gone to his next appointment; she was following Madama Kzu a Oriamin, one of the Baron’s very distant cousins and a part of his entourage, up and into the place.
It was only when you got very close to the face of the fortress that you saw the guns. Sleek, streamlined, the gunpowder cannon refined to the nth degree for safety, range, and efficiency, these bristled from gun mounts and ports. They looked too polished, though, to be imminently practical; if there was any drill and test firings, none had heard of it.
Still, if they did work, siege would be the only practical way to attack the place short of flying soldiers carrying rockets. Those flyers would face air-cooled machine-gun fire that would make accuracy a real problem, too, Nakitt thought, spotting the smaller weapons. Below was a broad bay that was quite deep and wouldn’t provide the best anchorage for floating gun platforms. They would, however, make nice targets for castle guns, which looked to have the range of the bay, and had gravity on their side.
Food would be the only problem, and even that might be more a hardship than a fatality. The snows of the peak almost certainly were used year round for cold storage, and the clouds and mist would mask those going up to get them, or even to supplement them.
Whoever had designed the system, long ago, had some real skill in defensive fortifications. Each major bay or harbor had a similar fortification, although not necessarily so large or so grand, and, perched on the battlements, you could just barely see the next one on a distant island in each direction. Semaphore and lantern could give communications even in the worst of circumstances, and, in the case of key potential landing sites, fire could be coordinated.
The real question was whether they understood this logic, and whether they knew how to work this system. Nakitt understood it and grasped it at once, which might well be very valuable in the future.
Madama Kzu led her quickly inside and through a labyrinthine maze of corridors and chambers that were almost certainly not designed to confuse any invader but sure confused Nakitt. Still, some of the chambers were quite impressive, with marvelous carvings of legendary creatures, wildlife and plants of the nation, and much that was simply abstract. Most were overlaid in gold leaf, the floors had elaborate mosaics, and the ceilings had paintings and designs that created a unique geometry for each open area.
The lighting was gas, but had the effect of muted colored fluorescent light, running in tubes. Only at points could an open flickering flame be seen, angled against a series of mirrors that allowed it to shine down the tubes and illuminate the inert additives that provided the color and uniformity.
It sure beat the smelly and inefficient fish oil torches used back in the town.
Water was everywhere. Fountains and stylish pools and baths seemed omnipresent, and there were also lavish tapestries and lush silken curtains.
There were, however, no doors, save those on the inner chambers of the highest royalty—the Baron and his immediate family—and even there the privacy was illusory since they used attendants and staff for just about everything, even getting them up in the morning.
The Baron certainly seemed to be something of a stud, if nothing else. He had fifteen wives who had already borne him twenty-two fully royal children, and he also had twenty concubines who’d given him a small horde of little bastards to make sure that the castle would always have a royal staff.
The Baron shared power and authority with the elected council, but did not share wealth or living conditions with them.
“These artworks were surely not done entirely by Ochoans,” Tann Nakitt remarked as they reached the end of their long walk, on the lowest level of the castle.
“You are correct,” Madama Kzu replied. “Many artisans from many nations were employed in decoration, and still are in keeping it up and in restoration. There are no outsiders here at the moment, but it is common to see them.
They come in on the ships, as do material and sometimes whole works, and they also leave by them.”
“The guns we saw above, big and small. Do they work? Do people here know how to use them?”
It was a fair question, but it seemed to irritate Kzu. “There are members of the household responsible for all of them, and all that they require,” she answered huffily. “I assume that anyone who would accept such a position knows how to work them.”
Bad assumption, Nakitt thought. I’ve seen guys on laser cannons and particle beam disintegrators that couldn’t count to three or know which end to point. In this kind of inbred society in particular, you would lose one hell of a lot of face if you were asked to take over and then didn’t know your job. So it was a fair assumption, from the fact that they were being kept as pieces of sculpture rather than test fired and worked on in drills, that the damned things were just supposed to scare you to death. Even the Baron had worn a long sword, an archaic weapon that was basically affixed with nasty clamps or implanted hardware under a wing and which could only do any damage if you basically rammed somebody.
The concubine’s chamber wasn’t exactly a harem—it was much too well trafficked for that, and there were male staff about as well—but it was one big chamber for too many women to be stuffed into with little to do except tend to the kids and straighten up the lower levels. Most were simply young unmarried females that the Baron had taken a lustful fancy to once, when going through their area, and had basically then rendered them impossible to marry as virgins to lustful guys who never were.
Tann Nakitt wondered when the hell the Baron had time to knock all these women up, plus the wives and maybe one not for the road but on it, and suspected that fidelity wasn’t great around this place, either. What the hell; since all the guys here were at least cousins to each other and the Baron, well, it was all in the family.
Nakitt had thought the very concept of herself as a virgin, even though in a strictly biological sense it was true, hilarious. Still, if she was going to find out what it was like on this side of the sexual ledger, it would be at least first with the Baron, if only for absolute political reasons. After that, whatever helped attain an objective, from faithfulness or celibacy to wanton lust and abandon, was just fine with her.
The chamber was not exactly a rotten place for all the mob, though. There was a large fountain with the ancient Ochoan goddess of fertility fittingly posed in the center in alabaster, and a soothing stream of water was pumped—oh my!—into her at a couple of suitably obscene points. If an Ochoan hadn’t managed to carve that one, an Ochoan had inspired it.
To the left of the fountain as you faced the rear of the chamber was a large pool of deep, clear, cool water that would be suitable for relaxing in or exercising; a similar pool on the right gave off wisps of steam and appeared to be bubbling from some source of compressed air. Indoor baths. Very fancy. Beat diving into the ocean every day.
A massive vanity with a single curved mirror was against one wall; the other wall was false and concealed a fullblown Ochoan mass toilet with water constantly running in it and bearing away the bad stuff. There was also a shower, possibly fed by some kind of raincatcher cistern above or perhaps by another diversion of the falls; it would get you clean in a hurry.
The back of the hall contained a series of chambers with very comfortable-looking beds, each of which could be curtained off but now were not. Doorways flanked the bedding chambers.
“The door on the left goes to the nursery, where at least two from here are on duty at all times, and beyond them the hatcheries,” Kzu explained. “Everyone is also expected to spend time in midwifery with the eggs; that way nobody is stuck there for weeks. Have you ever sat an egg before?”
“Sorry, no,” Tann Nakitt responded. Hell, I never even liked children of my old species, nor any others. It would be interesting to see if a maternal instinct was built into a dominant sentient species. She sure didn’t feel very motherly now.
“Well, it is the simplest thing one can do. Don’t worry. What little is needed, you’ll be taught. Now, the right hand contains some rooms where various things are taught by palace instructors, and the gateway to the fish pool. That’s an area where food delivered to us is kept until needed. There is too much pandemonium here for set meals, although we seldom eat or do much else alone, but you may if you wish. You may also enjoy any of the amenities available here, and there are many. You will be expected to keep the chambers spotless, as well as the floors, toilets, washables, and, of course, yourself. However, you may not leave this complex on this level unless you are summoned. Some of the girls are summoned as ladies in waiting for the royal wives, but that is a high privilege. If you are summoned, remember to show respect to royalty here, and use at least basic court titling. The Baron is His Highness, the Baronesses are all Highnesses as well. Men of the nobility are always addressed ‘my lord,’ ladies of the nobility as ‘my lady.’ Staff is either ‘sir’ or ‘madam.’ The one exception is that, among the concubines, only I as chief of concubines am to be called Madama. No one here has a title, and you will generally be referred to as ‘girl’ no matter how old you are. After the Baron lies with you, he will give you some jewelry, something like the necklaces and anklets you see, and perhaps some gems for implant if he is really pleased. After that, you will be one of us, and your name will be reregistered in the rolls as Nakitti a Oriamin.”
“Sounds like no more status than I had before,” she noted, disappointed.
“Not true. You are the lowest rank of the castle, it is true, but you will still now and forever outrank all commoners. You may gain added rank by position, if you have some particular expertise, some skill or knowledge, and you exhibit it without making the nobility think you may be smarter than they are. Bearing royal children, of course, also gains you stature. We do not ask why the Baron takes someone into the household, but that is the situation. Remember, too, you are in a political atmosphere where everyone’s pride and honor is important, and where they jockey for favor and respect. That means you always convince them that you’re a poor, ignorant country lass out of her league no matter what the truth. Punishments here can be painful as well as costly to one’s comfort. Remember that.”
She nodded. “Oh, I will. I most certainly will.”
“Here is a commons chamber not being used,” Kzu said, pointing to a bare area flanked by curtains on three sides. “Get whatever you wish to personalize it and make it comfortable from the storerooms to the right. After that, eat, sleep, relax, and try and fit in with the others and await His Highness’s summons.”
Tann Nakitt looked around the place. That summons couldn’t come soon enough.
In four days and three nights Tann Nakitt had almost become accustomed to sleeping with the constant chatter and din reflected off the smooth walls, and learned how to sit on eggs, and already been lectured for being less than diplomatic with some very young brats who bit. She didn’t, however, make friends in the place, since, after all, she was another outsider coming in, and thus the current novelty of the big man and a new rival for diluted favors. She did get the impression that this would last until yet another new one was brought in, which could be any time or could be months or years. When it happened, though, she’d be one of the girls.
On the fourth night the Baron summoned her. The summons was delivered by a female chamberlain who suggested that she make herself as attractive as possible. This was not something Tann Nakitt had any experience in, and she decided that clean and neat and maybe a wee bit of fragrance was the best route. Anything more and she risked looking like an abstract painting.
The Baron was quite as handsome and, well, big, as she’d remembered him, and there were those come-hither hormones he seemed to ooze that made it hard to concentrate on what he was saying.
His chambers were simpler than she’d expected, although still the lap of lavish luxury. What surprised and pleased her most was that he seemed to have walls of books! Real books, bound in leather and carefully shelved. She couldn’t read any of it, but the idea that he could, and did, made him go up a notch in her respect. The Realm had abolished books so long ago that few even knew what they were; you didn’t need them when any terminal could answer any question or create a small cube that would have your own hologram spouting your lousy love poetry. But Ghomans still had books on their world, and had carefully preserved and respected them. Ghoman books were not treated as objects, but as the collective spirits of the brightest of their ancestors.
He had ordered what was, for Ochoa, a gourmet meal, including several delicacies rarely seen by the common folks and some exceptional wines. She found she didn’t have much of an appetite, though, but she did take and enjoy a few things, a light snack as it were, and very much enjoyed the wines.
“Well, Nakitti, what do you think of my castle?” he asked her at last.
She still hadn’t defined him, and might not for many more sessions. That made any conversation tricky, because he might be the greatest conversationalist around and wonderful to her, yet if she said something that touched a button in him, probably something illogical and unforeseeable, it might turn him into a raging maniac.
“It is most grand, Highness. I did not dream that such opulence and high art were so close.”
He seemed to like that. “I saw you eyeing my books. The ones over there are the finest histories of my people, going back as far as we have records—and that is very far indeed. Others involve the sciences, mathematics, architecture, astronomy, and so on. These are local books, Ochoan books. I feel a link with them. There are at least seven ages of our written language, and it has taken time but I have mastered them all. Twenty-five volumes devoted there to trade and commercial law and customs, and another forty on diplomacy. But concerning war—there’s almost nothing. We are in the middle of an ocean surrounded by nations whose denizens can breathe only water, and most of them only water under heavy pressure. Our land is rich in those things that are of true importance, but we have nothing here worth mounting a massive expedition that cannot be gotten more cheaply and easily elsewhere. So, we simply haven’t ever had the need to learn how to fight. Oh, we have the trappings of it—little more than show officers and a customs police, really. That leaves me with nothing but logic. Kzu tells me that you were asking about the guns and forces. That may not be diplomatic as a newcomer here, but your implications match my own logical study. If we actually had to defend this place, we wouldn’t know how. Would you?”
Uh-oh! Nice trap, Baron and Kzu. Play dumb to stay out of trouble or be smart and show up the locals. And, damn it, the way he’s pumping the hormones out, I can’t think straight!
“Highness, I was never a soldier, and this kind of war is as far in the past to my old life as it is now to this one.”
“Spare me the humble act, Nakitti! Can this place be defended?”
She thought a moment and decided to drop the evasions. “Highness, it can, but only if the guns all work, there are competent trained people present to use them if and when required, and sufficient fresh supplies for both the weapons and for a siege. It would not guarantee a result, but it could make a positive result possible.”
“Excellent! That is what I wanted to hear! I will need you here, Nakitti. I have some problems that must be worked around. Those who are in the military command do not know anything about their jobs, but they love the titles and all the festooned ornamental sashes and ribbons and body markings and all that. I cannot remove them. Most of them are my sisters and aunts and nieces. My nephews believe they are generals, although they have never fought anything more than using their swords to spear fish. I can order things to get done, but I must do it through them. What I need is knowledge behind the orders.”
She liked the idea of being a power behind the throne but was appalled at his evident belief that attack was inevitable. “Highness, do you really believe that an attack will come here?”
“I consider it only a matter of guessing the month and the day.”
“But—Highness! You just finished telling me about the isolation, the lack of immediate enemies . . .”
“And yet it is precisely for that reason that we are the center of the target! The only land, the only harbors, for a thousand kilometers. Control Ochoa with a true combined force and you control the commerce of the Overdark. Control it, and you have bases from which to provision and shelter a powerful group that can then use a naval force to go almost anywhere it wills against a mainland target. You can raid, pick, weaken, force a potential enemy to shift his forces hundreds or thousands of kilometers up and down a coastline, exhausting them, straining and confusing their supply lines, all that. Our enemy—it knows the military way. If I can see this, then it has seen it long before. Will you help me?”
“Highness, you have been studying military thinking somewhere, or you are a genius coming into his calling, as we all hope and pray. As I swore to you before, all that I have and all that I am I pledge to you to use as you wish.”
He moved from the table and came around toward her, and as he got close he towered over her, then put his great wings around her.
“You know,” he said softly, “I was afraid you would be a sexless creature, or an ugly one, but you are neither. I wish us to work together on all levels.”
Her initiation into the household was completed with the rather joyous discovery that not only was he large in a lot of ways, when it emerged from within him it proved to be sheathed in bone . . .
Chemistry, as any Ghoman would say, won out. Okay, Tann knew it wasn’t very romantic, but she had never been very romantic, either. Besides, Ghoman sex was never like this! Exit Tann Nakitt, now placed on the shelf from this point on with the other dusty memories; enter Nakitti a Oriamin, and, for now at least, she liked that just fine . . .