“Governor Oppuk awaits you within,” the first servitor said. Then, to Aille’s barely suppressed astonishment, a human servitor in Narvo colors appeared and opened one of the doors.
Tamt stalked through, and then Aille. The two servitors followed, so that they all stood in a cavernous, cool dimness made of rectangular gray stones piled one atop another. Despite the traditional Jao-styled exterior of the palace, the interior was distressingly human. “Look at these corners,” Tamt said and reached out to touch them with the ends of her fingers. “They are so—abrupt.”
The servitors glanced at one another and their eyes flashed bright-green before they took command of themselves. “Governor Narvo has adopted aspects of the native style of building,” one said. “Local materials and craftsmen are readily available and thereby less costly, and it impresses the natives, who need to constantly be reminded of their place.”
“Of course,” Aille said, but it all rang false to him. He knew enough about humans, by now, to be sure that they would not be impressed by seeing their conquerors adopt native styles. Pleased, perhaps—if the adoption was accompanied by other forms of association. But otherwise it meant nothing. What “impressed” them, taken by itself, was simply Jao superiority in battle.
“Governor Oppuk is in the solarium,” the second servitor said. The last word was an English term, spoken somewhat awkwardly. “Will you come this way?”
He cocked his head in assent and then allowed Tamt to again precede him, this time through a series of hallways and large echoing rooms, none of which possessed flow, in the classic Jao sense. Instead, the building had an odd cut-up feeling to it, as though it started and stopped in fits and no one ever quite got to where he was going. How did the Narvo live like this?
The “solarium” turned out to be a vast room with glass panels set into the ceiling, so that the sun cascaded through and made the walls vibrate with light. Trees in tubs lined its straight edges, their branches filled with the small colorful avians called “birds.” Aille blinked and realized most of the room had been dug out for a deep pool. It was most natural looking, outlined with slabs of black rock and a steady pattern of artificially generated waves lapping its sides.
Out in the middle, someone was swimming. Aille stopped as a dark, wet head popped up out of the water and regarded him with glittering eyes that had gone mostly green. The face’s vai camiti was very bold, but a trifle unbalanced, three black stripes slashed at varying angles. “Ah, Aille krinnu ava Pluthrak.”
Aille stood at the water’s edge, the briny scent of this microcosm sea washing over him, and let intense-interest wash through him. “I am honored to answer your summons, Governor.”
“Of course you are.” Oppuk swam over in one sinuous motion and heaved out onto the rocks. “And I am honored by the generosity of Pluthrak—to waste one of its illustrious progeny on this chaotic world.”
For far too long, Narvo had refused to ally itself with Pluthrak in even the smallest of matters. Such association would have been powerful, and mingling their potent bloodlines through a marriage-group would have spawned offspring who would make their mark on the galaxy. But Narvo had spurned all Pluthrak advances, and now the two were at odds almost at every turn. Aille had heard much of this rivalry, since he was a crecheling, but had never before been in the presence of a Narvo. His whiskers tingled with warning, though he held his body to intense-interest through fierce concentration.
Oppuk krinnu ava Narvo shook himself, then gestured at a silent human servant, who appeared out of the shadows, eyes downcast. “What do you think of this room?” he asked nonchalantly, though his shoulders hinted at outright-challenge.
“It is quite bright,” Aille said, trying not to blink, “but otherwise reminiscent of my birthworld.” Whatever he thought of the light level, the room had an exquisite scent. “Marit An’s seas smell very much like this.”
“I had an odor expert brought in from Narvo’s Pratus.” Oppuk thrust his arms out as though he were a child, and the servant hastily slipped a standard weapons harness over his shoulders. “Expensive, of course, but as ruler of these creatures, I have to maintain a standard they will respect. And then, such a room makes living in this landlocked region more bearable.”