Extract from The Anile Heir © 2006.I, Ysabel Jehan Howard, hereby assert and give notice of my right under s.77 of the Copyright, Design and Patents Act1988 to be identified as the author of this book.
WENDIN:  So if you were around, you’d eat with us, right. SARAT: Sure.
GUNTA:  If there was anything you eat!  I’m not talking about cuisine, I’m talking about fish and fruit!  
WENDIN: Army food is good, right, no rat, no crap, but it is a  bit – solid, you could say.  We get apples and chard.  Pears.  Any fruit there is, we get first choice, which is basically why the cats told you none in the shops.  If it grows in Var-sega’, we eat it.  
SITSI: Patsito fried with bacon is just about the yummiest thing you could dream of.  I think it’s pretty solid, fat and calories.
 
Sitsi and others saluted Varna sharply.  
“We are a delegation, sir!”
“And?”
“Fact-finding mission.  Permission to go to Zur again.”
“And meet Sarat?”
“Well, if he should cross our path – not exactly inconspicuous.  Seriously, sir, no, well, maybe, but we’ve got a much clearer idea how things work now.  We think we’ll look at this differently. With more understanding.”
“Initiative,” said Varna, drily.  “They have not attacked for 137 days.  I see no reason they should choose your absence – unless you cause such mayhem in Zur as comes to their attention, of course.”
They pretended to look shocked.
“Three days,” continued Varna.
“Days!  That’s brilliant!  Thank you, sir.  Thought you might say three hours.”
“It matters,” said Varna.  “Zur neat will not transport to the Colonnade.  Essential Zur, quite possibly.”
 
“That side of the border,” said Sitsi, “he’s a Fidubi student living in Zur.”
“Can’t play that one.  Why’d we want to meet one of those?”
“Is there anything wrong with saying, lok, well, we just wanted to meet you.  Doesn’t sound very dynamic.”
“We don’t have to be dynamic that side of the border.”
“He sounds a straight kind of guy.  Just tell it straight.”
“What’s that?”
 
SITSI TO SARAT PM
Varna has agreed to leta group of  us loose in Zur again.  We did just wonder if we might meet you at some point, if you were around.  It’ll be 25th to 28th and we’re staying at Colbin’s, which I’m sure you know.
 
“SArat in in depth talks with Kadun military,” drawled Baz.
“Yup,” said Paw, “the younger and less elevated the better.  Front for Varna?” “Wanna meet,” said Maya.
“Pretty inevitable,” said Baz, “anyone who can wangle the trip.” “Tell the exact truth,” said Sarat, “there’s a forum we’re all on.” “Of course we could always go to Carlin,” said Maya.
“Sarat on state visit to Burunda!”
 
SARAT TO SITSI PM
Coolest!  D’you want to come to dinner one evening?  Let me know which day
 
SITSI TO SARAT
Yes please!  Thank you very much.  The Vaneday, the 27th
 
SARAT TO SITSI?
Shall I invite Shav and Petrush?
 
SITSI TO SARAT
Again, yes please.  Brill.
“I’ll get it! shouted Petrush and flung open the door.  “Gentlemen, welcome to chaos!” Maya, crossing the hallway, stopped, said, “Darlings, lovely to meet you,” and continued on her way.
“You will gather,” said Petrush, “an event has taken place.  A cat, a real one of the fourlegged variety, has chosen this moment to have kittens.  Sarat of course constitutes the attending physician.   I suggest we repair to the tranquillity of the garden.  Unless any of you
is a specialist in feline obstetrics. I of course have the misfortunate to be Petrush.” They introduced themselves.
“I’m Baz, he’s Paw.”
“I’m a cub,” said a cub dolefully.  “That means I get all the crap work.  What would people like to drink?  We offer a variety of fine wines from the sun-drendched vineyards of Fidub.  Got that off the label. Else there’s beer, orange juice, peach juice, lemon juice, tea, coffee, mineral water, and probably anything you can name.  Including applestock.  Maya says she’s dressed for kitten duty and will just wash and brush up and be with you in a tick.” “Peach juice,” said Frensat in tones of awe and wonder.
 
KAF love FAF!  Ciletij fury as FAF entertains our real allies!  KAF officers in lightning raid on Camp Five (I’ll bring the wine)!
 
And it seems Shavli-ban-essa, Cho’s grand-daughter, is staying at the House in Carlin!  Naturally rumour is rife but if we go now to Carlin…
 
“Car-sandis Gazette.  Imperial Highness!  Or do I mean Flight Captain?  History plays strange tricks on us.  If we ask very nicely, would it be possible to tell us what the hell is going on here?”
“Shavli will do.  It’s actually all very straightforward.” “It is?”
“Would you just confirm for viewers in Kadun that you are a pilot.”
“I am.”
“Our guys do not look like that!”
“That’s exactly the point,” said Shav.  “It’s simply part of the on-going debate on women in the Kadun military.”
“We can certainly see that – a foot in both camps, you might say.”
“Some guys Sarat met online said they’d be in Zur and would love to meet him.  Cool, he said, and Shav and Pretush – my partner – too.  So we had a peaceful delightul dinner in the garden.  Then Petrush had the idea.  We cleared it with Varna and Skyhawk.  Everyone knows Fidub shares military intelligence with Kadun.  This is really a complete non-event.  I mean what the guys wanted to see was the practical stuff, how it works on the ground, showers, sleeping accommodation.”
“FAF’s showers, top-secret, I think we can all see that!”
“Everyone knows – they do, they do, that is of course why the howling.”
“Skyhawk said fine, so long as the guys are back in Kadun before you guys get on to it, and I could fly them back, so I went to Burunda.  Then Duvi invited me to stay over the weekend here.  I’m sure the House can provide fine china tea-cups to put the storm in.”
“So you have visited Burunda – “
“Sadia and I.  She’s my boss.”
“I may stop laughing in a minute.  So – Skyhawk and Varna despatched two female pilots to Burunda.”
“Hospitality,” said Shav, “should be reciprocated.” “I guess they weren’t too rude, you being.”
“They weren’t rude at all.  That was one of the things we talk about.  Not being rude to us! 
About – normal levels of boyish high spirits being – changed by the presence of females.”
“Male conversation.  This is actually important, isn’t it.”
 
A laconic message was conveyed to the press-fiends at the gats of Camp Five: Sadia and Petrush might talk to you, when they’ve finished work, if they feel benevolent.
 
“Impressions of Burunda, Sadia?”
“One state of the art base is much like another.  They have birds.  They have hangars.  They have beds.  Like ours they’re pre-moulded.”  She grinned.  “The question was of course location.”
“You’d say it had a masculine air.”
“Pretty surprising if it had a feminine one.”
“Sure, sure.  You know what I mean?”
“Do I?”
“I play mixed hockey.  I also play all-male hockey. Atmosphere, Sadia, surely everyone
agrees, all boys, all girls for that matter, is slightly different to mixed.”
“We tend to be cleaner.  That does not apply.  Burunda is spotless. That is of course exactly.  Changing-rooms were discussed freely and frankly. As in they don’t exist.  Some form of partition is hardly a huge deal.”
“Unless it’s glass!”
“And everything is state of the art?  We all know the propaganda.”
“They’d hardly have won every round if it wasn’t.”
“At the political level, this is a clear statement of alliance between Fidub and Kadun.”
“At the political level,” said Sadia, “you need to talk to someone else.”
“May we bring the cameras in?  I’m thinking for the benefit of a wider audience in Kadun.” “That too is someone else,” said Sadia.
 
Sure, said Skyhawk.  At their convenience not yours.
 
“Sarat has been talking to the Kadun military,” said Seani, dead-pan.
“I think it’s easy enough to see that one.  Wanders Grid, finds guys slagging off women in uniform.  Excuse me….”
“Only he is Anile heir.”
“Guys slagging off women in uniform who are opting for empire!  He’s not going to say nothing, is he.”
“I wonder if he displayed his customary tact,” said Seani.  “So how about you guys join the real world, fast.  See if you can find it.”
“Are they allowed on line?”
“That’s an interesting one.  Not exactly secret, the location of Burunda.”
“Any airbase.  Doesn’t move in the night like an army.  Maybe it’s different for KAF.” The lizard hissed.  Hard to say which is more intolerable, the presence of foreign agents, the presence of the former imperial family, pretend-men pretending to fly.
 
So bomb us to ashes, said Varna, the way you have failed to do for ten years.
Varna is a happy man right now.  He has found out Sadia is both straight and single.  Of how to pursue this he is less sure, but he has imagination and initiative.  He will find a way!
 
“The house,” began Sitsi to a rapt audience, “it’s a detached, but it’s a town-house, not like a mansion.  Surrounded by trees so the neighbours can’t see in!  There’s a wide hall.  So far as we could tell there are only two rooms on the ground floor, two that matter, I mean there’s a downstairs loo, cloakroom.  Both looking out onto the garden, opening out, French doors, patio.  My mum would go ape over that kitchen.  Obviously it’s enormous and there’s a counter in the middle with like bar-stools,  Everything built in of course.  The other room it’s like living and dining.  There’s one huge polished dining-table.  I don’t know anything about antiques except I know one when I see one.  Rest is two huge black corner sofas, a few floor cushions, an AV unit, telly, sound systems, occasional tables.  One or two things I suspect would pay our salaries for ten years.  Kept trying not to stare and – well, felt stupid.  We’ve all seen ancient and valuable at the  House, but this.” “Well?” they said.
“Lifesize silver panther, absolutely phenomenal, practically see it breathing.” Sarma looked up sharply.
“I’m just wondering – the Buconin Panther?  Reputedly lost wonder of the empire.”
“Maybe it’s a nearly as ancient replica?” said Frensat.  “I do not see how they could have got that out of Azt.”
“Other thing is a painting, huge landscape.  The colours are entrancing.  Hadn’t a clue where it is and thought I could ask that.  It’s the Sohenisle.”
“We don’t really know what happened when the empire collapsed.  Maybe they said take what is yours!  OK, I doubt it!”
“As for the garden, imagine you’re relaxing in a beautiful orchard in Carlin!  Only it’s not an apple-orchard, it’s an orange-orchard.  Grove, is grove the word.  There’s a hammock and a couple of loungers and a wrought-ron table and chairs and a long table for food and drink.”
“We all helped ourselves from bowls of deliciousness.  You know Sarat is WYSIWIG, because he behaved like any normal well-brought-up host would.  Do you need a spoon?  Pass you the patsito!  It is actually rather good.”
“Yes, bur what was the dliciousness.”
Fillets of habia, six different kinds of mixed salad, lots of little bowls of dips, dressing, sort of, except they had real live pieces of orange and peach in them, .cheeses, fresh crunchy rolls and butter
“Nothing that came out of packet then!”
“We stuffed ourselves, frankly.  Of course there’s plenty of salad in Carlin.  Call it winter salad.  This was summer salad.”
“Servants?”
“Cubs.”
“Behaviour to the boss?”
“Quite hard to describe really.  Offhand but intensely willing.”
“We were addressed thus.  I’m a cub.  That means I’m supposed to know what you want before you do, but I’m a failure.  What would you like to drink?  We offer a wide range of fine wines from the sun-drenched vineyards of Fidub – got that off a label – and practically anything else you care to mention, including applestock.”
“I trust you weren’t pissed by the time you got to Fidub!”
“Day to sober up.  We did finish a little inebriated.  Decorous I hasten to add.”
“In front of Sarat?”
“Baz and Paw.  Who are quite something.  Don’t expect Sarat to know everything about Kadun.  I rather got the impression they do!”
“Cats, aren’t they.”
“What did you actually talk about?”
“Anything.  Everything.  Including fixed wings!  But we didn’t talk shop long enough for it to – you know what I mean.” Frensat grinned.
“Long enough to know Flight Captain Ban-essa knows her stuff.”
“I don’t really think any of us said anything more exciting than anything we’ve said at the forum.”
“yes, well, the forum’s quite an exciting place!”
“Just thinking.  Hi.  I’m the ADC around here.  That means I get to do all the crap – you mean it doesn’t?  How may I help you?  I can see my way to that.”
“Who do you think did the cooking?”
“That’s an interesting one.  State of the art electronic devices is probably a good part of the answer to that.  I mean if you just put it all in the blender and whizz, it stops looking difficult, doesn’t it.  All those wonderful dips and dressings.”
“You do have to know what to put in the blender.”
“Probably borrowed a chef.  Must be enough around to borrow!”
“Didn’t think of that.  I reckon if it’s just the pair of them they look after themselves.”
“He’s a self-starter, all right.  They all are.  You can always tell.”
“Let us heigh to yonder fair Isles of FIdub!”
“Well, that too.  When you run out of ice and your host jumps up and gets more.  It’s kind of a clue.
 
Hospitality is to reciprocated.  Naturally Sarat is welcome in Burunda.
“Or you could just declare empire,” mused Essa.
“Dad!”
“What is the key fact here?” Sarat sighed.
“If I were just some Fidubi student.”
“If you behave as HIH, you must expect people to think you are HIH.” “I could stay at the House and visit Burunda.”
“Wander in and out of Carlin as though it were your back garden.”
“You said about people’s assumptions.”
“So?”
“So – if the whole of Carlin is assuming something – no, that doesn’t work.  Why is this so complicated!  Like – I’m in a little bubble and the assuming is over there somewhere.  The – the weight of the assuming squeezes the bubble, but the bubble is vulnerable, because me is also the assumptions!” “Something of the kind,” agreed Essa gravely.  “What will you talk about?” Sarat repeated Sitsi.
“It couldn’t be hairier than the forum!”
“Understood,” said Essa, “but wrong.  Guard of honour?” Sarat was silent a minute.
“If – if Cho’s going to be emperor, then I guess – I mean I think they’d see it as – not exactly just a bit of fun but – but that’s then not now.” Then, “Ths is – not sure I can put it exactly.  Not manipulation.  Maybe visualization!  But it’s fake.”
“You’ll do, kid, you’ll do.”
“Thank you, Dad.”
“Behave as if empire is given.  And if the whole of Kadun sees you reviewing the troops in
Carlin?”
“Oh no?”
“How would you politely decline?”
“I refuse to believe most guys would be deeply disappointed at not standing in the rain so I can walk past them.” Essa laughed.
“When the alternative is chatting to you about their kids’ health, I should say undoubtedly.” “I call the shots,” said Sarat.
“As a guest?”
“They can’t have it both ways.  If I’m HIH, I’m not an intruder.  I belong.  WYSIWIG.” “Better they know now,” agreed Essa.  “I look forward to the comments on the forum.”
“Still thinking,” said Sarat.
 
Baz to Firas, c.c. Cho, Tar, Sarat, Maya.  
Sarat has decided to go to Burunda.  Lot of nattering.  Upshot: ‘not appropriate’ (Tar) for the H-W to gallop beside her.  Rearing, throwing back their manes – oh no, wait, that’s Sarat.  Two female felines, please.
Firas: JD?
Baz:  Ha!  
Paw:  We’ll keep a diary for a couple of days, give you the idea.  Remember this is Zur and Maya’s A-M, so people bend her ear about the oddest things.
Baz: Framework: .  Only places invitation-only are bedrooms and lairs, theirs, ours.  Lair is like private sitting-room or in their case study room.  Whole family can be downstairs but if Sarat has a project to finish or something he’s in the lair.  They’re students, they don’t get up or go to bed at a set time.  Evenings we’re in and essay-free. the four make that six of us are mostly lounging around on the ground floor, kitchen, sitting-room, garden, pool.  Scenario could include close friends. Here are some pix.  You can see it’s fairly open plan.  ‘Course we’ve got our own tellies in case of vile dissent, but none of us watches much and some of the natural history documentaries are really good.
Cho: There was really quite extraordinary footage of the Archipelago.
Paw: Thank you for that helpful comment.   Firas: Food?
Baz: We eat, yes.  Three of us do.  And I don’t mean Maya’s dieting. It’s the Sarat Diet. 
Bears no relation to any fad or carefully analysed biochemistry.  Name me a raw food freak who starts with coffee, cream and sugar. He devised it.  He keeps incredibly fit on it.  Do assure impeccable as both guest and host – eats and serves normal food.
Firas: How is the housekeeping organized?
Baz: Midnight trips to the Megamart.  We have a standing delivery of non-perishables with the standing claws he or she who takes the last loo roll is responsible for ordering more.  We have a daily delivery of bread, milk, cream, fruit and veg.  Masses of it.  Lot of it gets juiced, of course. Blended.  Sarat doesn’t approve of juicers, says they leave out the good bits.  We have two million volt blenders. Chuck whole oranges in.  We have a selection of eats in the freezer, from the hill.  When Tulon, that’s Tar’s chef, found they had to feed half the adolescents in Zur they got very good at interesting things that could live in the freezer until the ravening hordes arrived.  There are eight bars, caffs, restaurants within a ten-minute walk.  No circs in which we starve.  Additionally we have delivery of whatever we feel like, whenever we feel like.  We share the login and add what we want.  As and when we get fish off the quay and choccie biks from the Megamart.  I’m the only one who can really cook so I’m the chef if it’s just Vij and Sarsh, say.  If there are hordes we scrounge help from the hill. 
Or proper grown-up people like Cho and Amida.  Maya makes a mean masali.
Tar: Zur is 24/7.  Evil grin.  AMI had not previously marketed ready meals. Firas: A different world. You all of course know each other very very well. Paw: We’ve talked about it.  We think we’re easy to get along with. Sarat: I grew up in a large family.
Firas: My concern is constant allusion to people and places that mean nothing to irturbi. 
Housework?
Maya: I sort of grew up in a large family.  The hill.  Total strangers.  Masses of H-W.  Impromptu meetings.  Organized chaos.  Colts come in once a week to do the place top to bottom.  Otherwise we clean up as we go along.  
Baz: Grin.  Sarat does the garden.  Good little citizen mows the lawn once a week or when it’s up to our ankles.  Serious.  Sarat likes green things and green things like Sarat.
Firas: And you two.  Leave, refreshers.  I understand it’s handled by Vax.
Baz: Wd on’t like to miss anything interesting.  Mostly we pootle off when it’s exam-time and they’re bent over their screens.  Mostly work out wherever we are.  If it’s Zur with the HW, at Cho’s with Vax and Fox.  Etc.
 
Cho to Baz, Paw, Sarat, Maya: And everything gets back to Firas?
Sarat: We’ve talked about it.  Tough patsito.
Cho: Sarshi?  Mel?  Suddenly you entertain your closest friends and family upstairs? Sarat: I really don’t think any of us has anything to hide, at least not from Firas.  He’s not going to go to Glitz, is he.  Carlin’s swarming with cats. Cho: Or you want a full-frontal? Sarat: That too occurred!
 
“Hi,” said Baz.  “Baz.”
“And this is me with my best party manners. May I see your ID, please, sir.”  Baz grinned. 
“Jaizi.  She’s Mellow.”
“I am, I am.”
“This is it?” asked Paw, looking at two backpacks.
“We have been living in a camp.  We thought we’d get new clothes instead of bringing.” “Got my toothbrush,” said Mellow.
“So Sarat and Maya are - ?”
“With mum and dad in Fidub.  We thought we’d give you a whistle-stop tour, go and pick them up, drop in on Cho, but we also thought jet-lag and finding your way around first.”
 
“They were guest rooms,” said Paw, “so the décor isn’t exciting.  Obviously feel free to decorate to taste.”
“So you’ve both got double-beds,” said Baz.  “We didn’t think you’d mind that.” “A real bed,” said Mellow.
“And walls!” said Jaizi.  “I’ve never had a room of my own.  Mum and Dad weren’t exactly
rolling, shared with my sister.”  She grinned.  “Till I ran away.”
“So do you want to settle in, come and find us downstairs at your leisure.”
“Shower!  Yes please.”
 
Mellow emerged from the shower and stood naked in the middle of the bedroom, revelling in the warmth.
“Don’t get carried away.  There are men in the house!”
“Goddess be thanked, no frilly lacy girly curtains.”
“You didn’t really think – “
“I thought if guys tried to be welcoming they might think something feminine.”
“There is Maya.”
 
 
“We have an urgent practical need to go shopping,” said Mellow.  “else it’s roast cat.”
“Only lightweight things we have are Ts.”
“Firas said he’d opened us bank accounts.  We have to go in person and sign on the dotted line.”
“Tell ‘em to give you smartcards,” said Paw.  “We’ll sort the other stuff.”
“Half Zur commutes to M-P and vice versa.  So there was an urgent need not to faff around changing money, presenting papers and all the rest of it.  Everything goes on the smartcard.” “That is wow!”
“We are expert on everything ‘cept the coolest place for female attire.  Start with Pritta’s, it’s a department store, at least you’ll get shorts and sandals.”
“What’s the name of this road?  So we can get back!”
Jaizi to Firas: And here we all are on the beach at Fidub…This is work?  Having a wonderful time, wish you were here!  We’ll say more when we’re in the swing of it.  
Mellow to Firas: Not good at describing things.  Pix, kitchen, lounge, our rooms (which we can decorate how we like, when we get around to it), garden, pool. Robot.  If you make crumbs you just languidly reach for the remote.  Tech.  Very.  Gather similar in reach most income levels.
Long long talk about automation, culminating in guided-tour of AMI!  Like we were VIPs or something.  Slightly mind-bending, great halls of bustle and activity but no people.  And your question for the day is – what do people do instead?  First, Zur did it slowly, so kids in school learned the jobs their mums and dads did wouldn’t be there, so they had to start to think differently.  Second if there’s a ground rule you have to be able to talk to a human.  Like your robot vacuum starts to spit the crumbs out instead of sucking them in, you can instanter connect with human beings.  Third, choice. You land in Zur, you can hire a car to drive yourself, you can hire a robot driven vehicle, or you can have a good old-fashioned cabby. 
Plenty of guys who still sweep the streets, in Fidub, I’m told.  They like it.  It gets them out in the sunshine and they get to chat to people.  As a ground-rule, all the basic shit jobs have gone, but anything that people actually might enjoy is flexible.  And Zuri make things.  They make home-made this morning that really is.  They make carved from a single log – not sure Sarat approves that one, but you get the idea. And they all need helpers.  People who are less talented cart the logs around.  You have to take account of climate.  Giraga in mid-winter, carting logs around is pretty shit.  But there’s one very basic.  People are expected to be ert!  Not inert I mean.  Like I said, not good at description.  Something like - capable of having their interest caught  in a normal way, whatever that means.  Think we all know the opposite, people who are just flattened.  
Jaizi to Firas: Pic of me and Paw.  We know the script.  In Kadun people are who dark like us
(!) are assumed to be Fidubi, least if we’re cats.  When they know you’re gypsy, then they get stupid.  As far as Zur goes I’m yet another Fidubi.  So we’re talking.  Far too polite, by the way to give us the third degree, now tell us all about yourselves, but we’re talking about Kadun, women in Kadun, what we’ve been doing, just general and I give them the whole works.  Mum’s what they call a ‘good gypsy’, Dad fell for her and she got respectable, but the crap is always there, so he’s very protective, and even more protective – like the guys say, ook after our grils, gypsy girls fair game to anyone in some circles, gyppos, whores, thieves. 
He’s got a shop. Haberdasher’s, he and mum know their stuff, they’re (nearly) accepted.  And they want me to work in the shop.  Safe.  And I’m not having any.  Dad’s dead straight.  One of the reasons they’ll never be totally accepted is because he won’t cut mum off from her family, so when they’re around they drop in and it’s brilliant and oh the hissing and spitting.  And I get the idea.  I know Gran’ll never go along with it, so I have to make her, don’t I.  I say I want to see the world, safety in numbers, not stupid, wouldn’t run off on my own, like a holiday, right.  Never had one of those, unless you count picnics on The Ridge.  So Gran talks to Mum and Dad.  Now, bless them, they know I don’t have the most interesting life, get a bit of fresh air, but of course they’re anxious, you stay on the road.  That means there’s basically no shit if we stay away from ‘good people’ and of course the caravans know who’s a real good ‘un and who isn’t, the farms that’ll sell you eggs, meat, milk, bread.  Cats always used to keep an eye open for us, but of course they’ve got other things to do these days.  But I get my holiday and we run into a group of cats and I just know this is what I want to do.  Snag: I’m 16.  Just 16.  So I had to stick it out in the shop for a whole year, but I did because now I
had a future.  What I did not say was can I tell mum and Dad what I’m doing now, they’ll be over the moon, they won’t believe me!  Didn’t want to sound about 10, after which I realized that in Kadun I’ll be on camera and they really won’t believe it!  Is that our Jaiz?  Can’t be! Then we got onto the hard stuff.  Like most places we have no rights, no fixed abode, vagrants.Like there was a movement for gypsy rights, but it sort of got pushed under the carpet.  So Sarat (of course!) said healthcare and I was pretty much on my hobbyhorse and said what’s that?  Serious, I said, if we’re sick, we either look after ourselves, call it folk medicine, but ome of it works, or if we’ve got any sense we find cats to help.  Of course not all docs are turds, some treat anyone poor for free, but if it’s something major cats can generally break the door down.
He really cares, about people being fucked over, he really, really does.
 
Forwarded to Mitch:
Your comments?
There are some amazing young women in Kadun.   Gypsies are welcome at the House. I have friends in CLIK who know them well.  They say to praraphrase they only steal from total bastards and CLIK would steal from everyone.  It may entertain you to learn some members of CLIK get twitched about that, insisting they’d only take it off the rich, whereas a farmer who has mysteriously lost chickens and eggs in the night may have very little himself.  I shall assuredly book my guided tour of AMI.  I do not know anything about the interior of Dabida but I know Fidub is much like us in that it has huge metropolitan centres amidst large more sparsely populated areas with small communities – which would be destroyed if routine work such as street sweeping were automated and the inhabitants had to seek work elsewhere. As we both know many streets in our metropolitan centres are not cleaned in any manner and to enforce that level of civic responsibility overall might indeed raise the possibility of labour shortage; from mending the roads to painting public buildings, many things are not happening, partly because of war, partly because of neglect.  A small sleepy town I think has little need of automation to render it clean and effective, but automation is not merely a problem for the working-classes.  Software now resolves many basic book-keeping and accounting issues.  I am not entirely sure I think software an infallible guide to diagnosis but certainly it is preferable to an incompetent or over-worked doctor.  A doctor of course is central in small sleepy towns.  Where he or she knows families as his or her parents knew them.  HE or she brings something irreplaceable.  But healthcare in cities could only benefit from technology.  Kid’s got a rash.  Here’s a pic.  Again as we both know, Kadun is not fully wired and that must surely be a priority.  I leave you to guess whom I think wold mke it a priority!
 Firas: Can he do it?
Mitch: That will become clearer after Burunda.
Baz to Cho:  OK, you want me to stay at Burunda.  That is absolutely delightful and kind of you.  I shall stay at Burunda.  Of course after 24 hours you may ask me to leave.
Cho: He has decided to be difficult?
Baz: He does not like being neither one nor the other and has I think decided therefore to be unflinchingly both.
 
Unflinchingly both pitched up at Burunda in a grey silk polo, a black faux fur gilet, black silk loons and lemon flip-flops.  Maya was similarly attired, other than feet clad in plain black sandals.
Don’t they make a lovely couple!  Sistenda and As exchanged glances.
Someone’s taking the piss!
Sitsi – well, at least you know him – is not good at keeping a straight face.  Valiantly he succeeded.
“Welcome to Burunda!  This of course is AC Varna.  Asdinan you know, Sistenda of course is Leader of the Chamber.  Think you’ve met at the forum.”
“Shouldn’t miss this for the world,” said Sistenda.  “Delighted to meet.  The toes are not cold?”
“I have good circulation,” said Sarat.  “Lovely to meet you.”
“My lady Maya,” said Sistenda.  “Your cousins of course have often visited.” Rehearsal, thought As, for the real thing.  Can we cope with the real thing?
“Mel speaks warmly of you all,” said Maya demurely.  
Jaizi and Mellow wore PANTHER Ts and combat trousers and boots.  Consequently a number of young male eyes were not wholly fixed on Sarat.  Baz and Paw had grinned. 
“Entering enemy territory?”
“Jaizi, Mellow, Baz and Paw,” said Sarat.
  “Let us go inside,” said Varna.  “Coffee, I am sure, will be welcome.”
Baz to Cho: So we are walking through two lines of guys, not rigidly at attention, just standing easy, and I can see little thought-bubble forming: Fuck this for a game of soldiers.  When they get to the end of the row, he turns and says to the guys, “Thanks for turning out.  It’s really good to be here.  Catch up with you later.”  So we proceed indoors to have coffee and soon we’re all nattering, nothing particularly intense, Sarat says Shav’s told me a lot.  I’d really love to look around.  That’s when the fun begins.  Half an hour later Sarat’s sitting on a truck chatting to some guys fixing a truck and Maya’s on the flight control deck  learning how it works.  Three-quarters of an hour later, the sirens go.  Didn’t take long, 
 
Rght, fuckers, said Sitsi.  They all grinned, knowing they were all thinking the same thing:
done it a million times, of course Sarat here doesn’t make an difference, of course. Sarat in air-raid in Carlin!  How thick are they? thought Mitch, meaning Azt.  If they really want to focus attention.
There are a number of Press-person at the gate.   I’ll talk to them, said Sarat.
“What do we call you?”
“Sarat.”
“Why?”
“It’s my name.  Ilike it.”
“OK.  Sarat.  You have just sat through an air-raid.”
“Balls.  It was nani away.”
“You have a reputation for speaking plainly.”
“Do we look bombed?  Does anyone?”
“You have not lost your boots?”
“If I should be splashing through a muddy field, I’ll wear them.”
“Losers,” said Maya.  “Azt.  Spent ten years losing.”
Laughter, “We realize of course Alzani-Meta is no more kindly disposed to our foe than we!” “Correct.”
“But you are hardly here as Alzani-Meta!”
“I am not.”
“In what capacity would you say you are here?”
“Sarat’s other half.”
“In what capacity are you here, Sarat?”
“Anile heir.”
“Some people might find that a pretty breathtaking answer.”
“Don’t see why.  If Narulis’ heir can’t wander around Carlin, who can!”
“I grant it is a little hard to question that!” “Or indeed Zani’s.”
“Or that!  It was a very long time ago.”
“Not as far as Azt is concerned.”
“You would not by any chance be here to make Azt unhappy?”
“Would I, would I!  Usually I object to cruelty to animals.  Unless they have names like Krarlik.”
“Ban-varsit,” said Maya.  “If ever a dumb animal was asking to be taunted.”
“There’s a lot of imperial property in Azt,” said Sarat.  “Not totally surprisingly, no-one ever paid us for it.  Magnificent row of houses on the waterfront, 25-40 Galena.  We even have the deeds.  Most of the rest is some Ministry for Desecration or other.  We look forward to serving the eviction orders.  Thought we’d give it to the people of Kadun as homes for disabled kids, things like that.” Silence.
“You – own – your family owns – “
“Corsin HQ, yup.”
“And you have the deeds?  I don’t think I believe I’m hearing this!”
“Truly?  I mean you wouldn’t want to wind us but.”
“It really wasn’t worth the hassle,” said Sarat.  “What would we do with it if we repossessed?  Now it is.”
“Truly, the deeds?”
“PANTHER got out what they regarded as critical paperwork.”
“Sell it!  A whole load of lawyers and ill-feeling – further ill-feeling!  I do take the circumstances into account. Then the people who were living in it to go back living in it?”
“Something like that. I’ve made it sound simple and it wasn’t.  Some of it was sold.  The people who took it over offered to pay, but they weren’t strictly speaking paying us, they were paying Sohenoil.  Contriubtion to the upkeep of PANTHER.  There’s always been a lot of toing and froing, at least once the dust had settled.  Asdinan’s great-great-great-greatgrandfather was huge pals with my great-great etc.  
“What you learn from the horse’s mouth!”
What’s in the forum stays in the forum, unless you see an opportunity to innocently get it out.
“You’re dining of course in the officers’ mess.”
“Tonight, yes.  I have other invitations.”
“I bet you do!”
“Dinner in the canteen tomorrow.”
“Good for you.”
“The food’s good, no question.  You might find it a bit short on the green and leafy.” “And the fins!  Hope you eat meat.”
“I eat meat.”
“You do?  Lot of greenies would shudder.”
“Not at home.  Or for that matter when it’s self-service, like in the student caff.  When I’m a guest, I eat what I’m given.” Unexpectedly gales of laughter.
“Glad to see some young people are still properly brought up!”
“I wasn’t when I was 16.  I had to decide, was I going to be civilized or was I going to be a pain in the.”I had to decide, when I got political, when I was mixing with a whole load of different people, was I going to be civilized or was I going to be a pain in the.” “I admit to being a veggie.  Some people would say eating meat isn’t civilized.” “Sure, but you change that – higher up the food chain!  Not by irritating the hell out of a mate’s mum.  Sarat doesn’t eat this, Sarat doesn’t eat that  - what is this crap?” “Not meat, fish!  Silly of me.  
“All of them had little dietary foibles,” said Baz.  “Baya, that’s their mum, just said fine.  Noone else is going to buy it, no-one else is going to prepare it or cook it, you’re on your own, kiddos.”
`Possibly not a continent-wide conversation Sarat intended to start, the one where parents directed highly significant glares at their young and the young rallied forcefully: but eating meat is really wrong, Dad.
“You yourself are most correctly attired, of course, apart from.  What point do you seek to make with the footwear?”
“I’m quite hardy,” said Sarat, “resistant to cold.”
“Is it not ridiculously flippant, adolescent, one might say?  Have you entirely grown up?” “One may say whatever one pleases,” said Sarat.
“Perhaps you convey a silent message.  You will do your duty, but your heart is on the beaches of Fidub?”
“Conversation-piece?” suggested Sarat.  “How much drivel can I provoke?  This is a social visit and as such a fundamentally light-hearted occasion.  If it’ll make you feel happier, I should not wear flip-flops to a funeral.  If it’ll make you feel happier, I do assure you I should not wear flip-flops to a funeral.  Do you actually have nothing better to talk about than my toes?”
“You have lovely toes,” said Maya.
“Someone appreciates me!”
“We all know you have fundamentally serious interests.”
“Good!”
“I imagine you’ll be sharing your politics with the guys, even on a light-hearted occasion.”
“If they’re interested.” “That possibly depends!” Sarat grinned.
“Polluted drinking water, yes, the number of wild fungi close to extinction maybe less so.” “Precisely.  I think the feedback from this occasion will be most revealing.”
“Maya, you must have visited many Dabida military installations.  Would you say what you notice here is there is no space for the feminine.”
“I am honestly not sure,” said Maya, “what space for the feminine is
“If half the personnel were female,” said Sarat, “would they take up more space?” “Tampon machines in the loo,” said Baz.  He looked around at them.  “Was it something I said?”
“We don’t usually – “
“But we should.  I’s exactly the basics that matter.”
“Perhaps I didn’t put that well.  I did not mean lacy frilly curtains!”
“We’re irturbi,” said Mellow.  “Maybe what’s interesting is the military installations we haven’t visited!  Worked with them in the field, of course.”
“You ladies are field-agents.”
“Done a bit.”
“We all train together,” said Mellow.  “Girls need food, they need sleep.  They do not need to get up at 4 am and go on some mad exercise, but nor does anyone else sane.”
“In that there is some truth.  Cats of course have to be – fighting fit, just like the guys in uniform?”
“I’d hazard a guess,” said Maya, “the word ‘comfortable’ sneaks in somewhere.  Depends, doesn’t it.  The mess strikes me as quite luxuriously comfortable.  If the guys craved comfort on BT, they could of course whistle for it.”
“Blokes really love sleeping on stony beaches,” said Baz, “and any crabs involved are of the most elevated crustacean kind.  With sharp pincers.”
“They make you sleep on the beach?  With the wildlife? That is callous!”
 “I thought Fidub was endless sand!”
“They seek out the bits that aren’t.”
“you’re not winding us up, are you?”
“Would I!  Actually no. Search rock-pools, Fidub.”
“The seaweed’s fascinating,” said Sarat.  “Also highly edible.  Whatever we eat, it’ll be different.”
“Seaweed?”
“Cultivated for human consumption.”
“Well I’m - !”
“There is one serious matter I should like to raise if I may?” “Sure.”
“As we all know, empire is one of the options open to Kadun and as we also know, there is a great deal of hostility to empire in Ciletij.  I may say we take this with a pinch of salt.  Irturbi will decide the future of Kadun.  Clearly your grandfather is not Jaizal and anything to the contrary is loony-tune.  But there is also a great deal of hostility to you personally over certain trees.  I wondered if you had anything to say to soothe the savage bear?”
“No.”
“Nothing if not succinct.”
“I’m a scientist.  I deal in fact.  I presented facts.  They don’t like facts.  Tough patsito.”
“We’ve all read it,” said Maya.  “Spoilt stripling of the privileged classes, ripping the bread from the mouths of honest Ciletij workers.” “Don’t forget probably gay,” said Sarat.
“I do assure you he isn’t!  Interference with the internal affairs of Ciletij.  And where are they selling the timber?  Yes, Vaudos!”
“Interfering with a few fat-cats who pay, actually when it comes to it, rubbish-wages to those honest workmen they pretend to care about, profiting from the Cult.” “Cho wants to muscle in on the timber trade, that’s another good one.  Have you seen Fidub?  It’s a treeless desert!  At least in comparison.  I will not bend your ears for five hours on this. 
Promise!  All the facts are on the NoZone site.”
“I am sure they are greatly appeased.  Coming closer to home, questions are of course raised as to whether Sohenoil can profit from empire.”
“How?” asked Sarat.  “What could Cho do that he can’t do now?”
“Buy Vaudos!  Buy into at least.”
“Sure, but there are things we can assume about industry in Vaudos.  Wage-levels, health and safety.  Any civilized national government is going to establish a minimum wage and HandS.  Employee health insurance.  The works.  Why buy and land ourselves with all the extra costs?”
“That is an interesting point which of course goes way beyond Sohenoil. Just the entire structure of Kadun!  Obviously we have a lot of thinking to do about the way ahead.” Sarat said: “The important thing is that everyone is involved.  As I understand it, that means a whole lot more people need to be wired than are now.  Also as I understand it, there are thought to be bigger priorities. I personally am not 100% sure about that, people should not have decisions taken for them, in which they’ve had no say.  I think where there’s a will there’s a way.  Computer caffs would be an obvious start.”
“That of course is basic democracy and equally of course there are parts of Kadun from which it is entirely absent. How and this indeed is a general question which many of us are addressing would you hope to engage people who are currently divorced from political processes?”
“Talking to them.  In bars, factories, wherever.”
“You personally?”
“I personally am happy to talk to anyone anywhere, give or take the obvious!  I mean I’m really happy to talk to Krarlik in Azt, but maybe not over a beer.” “If I can just stick my oar in,” said Jaiz.  “You want to take certain things into account here.  Divorced from political processes.  What does that actually mean?  1.  They think no-one’s listening.  2.  They’re scared to speak in case someone thumps them.  3.  It’s deliberately made hard for them.  I’m not saying here in Carlin.  You don’t go back to a meeting where you’re made to feel stupid, made to feel dirty, made to feel poor, made to feel gypsy.”
“You are, aren’t you!  I mean I think that’s brill – “
“Maya better watch her jewellery then!”
Maya, who had appeared almost to be dozing, snapped to battle-stations.
“Who said that?”
“Oh come on, it was a joke!”
“Watch her with Sarat too.”
“Everyone knows gypsies have a certain reputation – “
“Do they really?” asked Sarat.  “I judge people on the ground.”
“Alwasys loved, ‘everyone knows’,” said Maya.  Everyone knows women are this gays are, that.  IT’s crap.”
“We were having an intelligent conversation,” said Sarat.  “Anyone got an intelligent response to Jaizi’s points?”
“Only that it’s straight down the line.  Of course there are some people who are – apathetic.” “Flattened is my word,” said Mellow.  
“Flattened is a good word.  They don’t believe anything will ever change, so not unnaturally they don’t see any point in trying.”
“So that’s back to Question One  - how to engage them.”
“Seems to me that if Sarat walks into a bar – people aren’t going to yawn, are they!”
“Might do,” said Sarat.  “Some rich kid who doesn’t know from a from e – “
“You have a reasonably vibrant personality.  You may be able to convince them that you do.  Especially since you actually do.  The health side, I mean.”
“We should not deny that it is – if not commonplace, then certainly it happens, that the more affluent and articulate dismiss as exaggerated the complaints of the working-class.  To be able to say firmly this pollutant causes that disease is actually pretty important.” Maya grinned.
“No, no, it’s not lysantium, it’s just your imagination.  Lysantium is a mould that flourishes in rotting wood.  Its spores give rises to chronic respiratory impairment – one picks up some truly fascinating things living with Sarat.”
“He’s just so romantic,” cooed Baz. Sarat put his arm round Maya.
“Can be.  Lysantium is actually deeply obvious but I guess if you didn’t know any biology you could dismiss it as stains on the wood.”
“Found a pic on my phone.”
 
“Think we’ll leave you to it,” said Sarat.  “We are guests.  Supposed to be in there, not out here.”
“Found something else too.  Endemic in housing riddled with damp.”
“What practically can be done about that?  I mean the best will in the world can’t tear down all the slum housing.”
“Haven’t gone into this one,” said Sarat, “but I do know 3D printing can create a house in 24 hours.  Not the world’s most fantastic house, but maybe better than lysantium.  Print an apartment block.”
“Say that again slowly.  Some of us aren’t very – print?”
“Print,” said Sarat.
 
High five, miss cat, high five. Sarma beamed at Jaizi.
“Not me personally, but some of the guys.  You have a little fan-club.”  
“I just learned something,” said Jaizi.  “Not sure what.  It’s got to do with class and being heard.”
 
Varulin studied Ritawa then pulled up one of Kar’s Toons on his phone, where the male bunny sees a completely adorable female bunny and his eyes turn into little hearts.
“I assure you, sir,” said Munzi, “his intentions are entirely honourable.”
“None of us,” said Ritawa, “wants old fogeys with quills.”
“Can it seriously be done?” asked Inyulat.  “Maybe I mean how seriously can it be done?  The worst places.”
 
Builders, by the way,  were sanguine, even upbeat, seeing that much work would be demanded on premises not bad enough to be torn down.  
 
“I rather enjoyed that,” said Sistenda.  “You wouldn’t like to host a meeting on public health, would you.”
“I can do that,” said Sarat.
 
“Born for it,” said Furrier
 
“Just thinking about those wonderful salads,” said Sitsi.  “Thoughtful.” “Reflective,” said Frensat.
“If it hasn’t poisoned Sarat.”
“I love crab,” said Sarma.  “Any time I get to the coast.”
“Never had it,” said Sitsi.  “Why have I never had it!  Do crabs shun our shores?”
 
”Baz and Paw,” said Furrier. Firas frowned.
“The chances of Cho entrusting his baa-lamb to dodos.”
“All the same.”
“A pretty soft life?”
 
“Should I make it weaker for the lady, sir?” “I think that would be wise,” said Frensat.
 
A waiter solemnly approached them bearing a small silver tray on which were two flute glasses filled to the brim with what looked like tomato-juice.
“It’s our special, guv.  We call it rat-blood.”
“Yum!” said Sarat.  “Thank  you.  What actually is it?”
“Chiefly,” said As, “tomato-juice and applestock.  To which is added a secret blend of spices, including ginger and pepper.  It can be quite.”
“Thereby masking its highly aocoholic nature,” observed Varna. Sarat was sipping cautiously.
“It’s quite.  Hot spiced tomatoes.”
 
Baz was kneeling on the floor, apparently immersed in explaining something. 
Aren’t we all completely at home.   Just want to see.
Prepared to abase, grovel!
Darts, good ones, from a foursome in the corner, two of whom were now looking shattered, one of whom had slid off his chair and was retching, one of whom got to his feet meaning to apologize, then slumped back into his chair looking bewildered. “Not drunk, sir,” managed the retching one.  “Much worse.”
“Cat-stuff,” said Sarat, exchanging glances with Baz that said, we are guests, they started it, better you! 
Sarat got up and went over to the perps.. “We don’t do that, we just don’t do that.” They went very red, quite as red as rat-blood.
“Get up,” he said to the guy on the floor.  “That was about what?”
“We just wanted to see.”
“Total awe.” “Can someone get them a bowl of arsenic,” said Baz.  “I mean a coffee.” Varna snorted.
“Rubbishes everything we’re taught.” Paw laughed.
“Actually it doesn’t, but that’s advanced stuff.”
Sarat grinned.
“Multi-tasking?”
“Exactly. Focus, don’t split your attention.  You’re listenng to well, everyone, basically, you’re talking to three people – “
“And every cell of my body,” said Baz,  “is focused on Sarat and Maya.  Repeat after me, I shall never behave like a plonker again.”
“Honestly, we had a speech of grovelling apology ready.”
“And you thought you’d have time to give it?”
“Thought you might just well hold us.”
“This is not a training-session, sonny.” “It’s a party,” said Sarat.  “Or was.” “We’re waiting,” said Paw. “You’re amazing!” “I know,” said Paw.  
“Flattery,” said Sarat, “will get you nowhere.”
“Consider yourselves,” said Maya, “small squeaking kittens under the massive paws of.” “We’ve all been there,” said Baz.
“We have,” said Sarat.
“I shall never behave like a plonker again.” Pirli entered.
“I missed the fun!”  He grinned at Maya.  “More kitten-duty?  I am Pirli, their boss.” “They’re good,” said Baz.
Pirli’s grin broadened.
“Only you are rather better.”
“They are spectacular,” said Frenshal.
“No-one thought the Anile heir surrounded by dodos.” Didn’t they just, wondered Baz.
“You think Cho would let him out of the house?”
“Not a lot.  You four.  An exact report.  Written.  Now.”  He turned to Baz.  “Who trained you?” “Vax and Fox.”
“Why did I ask!”
“Yeah,” said Baz, “why did you?”
“Sorted,” said Paw.
 
“Bloody masterclass,” said Firas.
 
The next day Sarat’s attire was politely deemed smart casual, being a thick grey roll-neck sweater, until he removed the sweater to reveal a cap sleeved PANTHER T.  In this he mooched around Burunda.
 
Really, really techy.  No offence but he actually understands what you say to him. Sistenda chuckled.
“Not my strongest subject, science.”
“And polite with it.” Sistenda made a moue. “You mean I’m not?”
“Understands ‘working’, blokes might not have time to gab.  Not that they wouldn’t rather gab, but you know what I mean.”
 
News of the T reached the press-fiends at the gate.  A message was sent.
A message was sent back: who do you think I am, Bilaaya? (a well-known fashion model.) Sarat thought a bit then sent another message: there’s no point you guys hanging around getting cold toes.  Varna won’t let you in and I’m not coming out.  Meet you at the House just before I go back?  
Deal!
Of course some of them hung around anyway.
 
 
Sarat jumped from the truck, swung down a rucksack and swung it over his shoulder, helped Maya down with a grace suited to a more formal occasion.  Thanks, guys, it’s been really great.  Good to meet you all.  He put his arm round Maya and walked slowly through the Press-fiends into the House.
“No, Sarat, no,” said Cho, choking with laughter.
He wore the PANTHER T, the black loons, black riding boots, a silver headband and mirrorshades.
They sat on the bottom stairs.  Sarat slowly removed the shades.
“I’m going to get such hell in college tomorrow.”
“Who do you think you are, Narulis or something!”
“I don’t think in Narulis’ time…”
“Fun this, isn’t it,” said Sarat.  “Actually I like people  seeing my eyes.  Unless I’m feeling really difficult.”
“Where’s the banana-skin?”
Sarat gave a quick hoot of laughter but others didn’t get it.
“I guess I need to explain, at least for people in the west.  The hip Cat is Zur’s most famous or notorious restaurant.  Named after a cartoon character taking the urine out of cool.  The Hip Cat has mirror shades.  But the Hip Cat is not wholly – successful.  The Hip Cat saunters straight onto a banana skin.  When a silver salver is placed before him and the lid removed there’s just a fih skeleton.  He cunningly conceals himself outside a mousehole and a friendly gull tells him, They’ve moved to Fidub.
 
Spetzi to Fana:  Eeeeeeek!    
 
“I’m sure they are bad for young eyes,” said Karula firmly.
“You don’t know that, Mom, you’re making it up.”
 
Otherwise good-looking young men muttered, it’s the bloody tan!  Ah, but he will perish early of skin cancer.  Others wondered about that.  I mean, if I went to Fidub for a fortnight and scorched myself but you must get used to it, your skin must. 
 
Iconic, said Mitch, what is cool, hip, modern Kadun.  Not only that but he has a brain.  For some of course that was alas, he also has a tongue and a brain.  No dumbfuck crap about being a figurehead, then. Icon, said Mitch.
“We have to bear in mind, Mitch, not everyone will wish to be represented by a hip cat.”
“Then they must be persuaded!”
“A young man who so utterly deflates himself is perhaps a little hard to resist.”
“No, no,” said Mitch.  “Deflating oneself is easy.  Dress up, dress down. Deflating oneself while continuing to look like damn’ Narulis is a one-off.”
 
“Ultimate cool,” pronounced Sorg, “is of course taking the piss out of cool.”
“Just ordered some mirror-shades,” said Vrin.  “Oft have I been tempted but the expression piss-artist occurred to me.  Now I have been raised to a higher level of understanding.”
“We shall duly serve you the scales and fins.”
 
“He’s winding up the entire world,” surmised Seani, correctly.  “Sarat, we have never doubted you are good-looking.”
“Or,” grunted Venzat, “that a most successful career on the stage would await you.” Num grinned.
“When the music stops, does he have a chair?”
“Polarization,” said Seani.  Sarat would have beamed in approval.  
“WYSIWIG.”  
“Oh that certainly.  Sarat neat.”
“So 50% are shuddering with horror and the other 50 – “
“What’s in a number?” asked Seani. “Doesn’t that just so depend.”
“Get him when he gets back to Zur.”
 
 “Could we at least reach our front door?” said Maya, loudly.
“Come on, Sarat, WTF?”
“WE’re going inside,” said Baz, “to put our stuff down and have a coffee and then we’ll come out again, all right?”
“Promise?”  Baz just looked at him.  “OK, OK…”
“Nice time with KAF, Sarat?”
“Wonderful.”
“Somewhere in the Constitution,” said Maya, “is the right to physically remove those who impede lawful progress.”
“Can you put those shades on again?  Just for me.”
 
“They’re saying you’re the world’s sexiest man, Sarat.”
“Bit of an exaggeration?”
“How do you feel about that, Maya?  Sarat the world’s pin-up.” “Mine, all mine,” said Maya.
“Correction,” said Sarat.  “We’ll come out again if you have anything sensible to say.” “Ciletij going ape, Sarat.”
“I said sensible.”
“Vera-jat, Times of Ciletij.  Come on, you have to admit it’s more than trees.”
“Talk to you in a min, OK.”
 
Sarat came out again and sat himself on the wall.
“What’s more than trees?”
“Oh come on, Sarat!”
“The Rape, man!”
“It didn’t happen.  Every reputable school of learning you can name says either it didn’t happen or it’s open, Schools in Harn, Collegium in M-P, Collegium here in Zur.  Like I said, some guys don’t like facts.”
“And the Academy in G-T is not reputable.  Don’t give me that shit!”
“The empire enslaved, tortured and murdered Ciletij.  You’re going to deny that?”
“Of course I’m not. At the end the empire was a crock of shit.” “The empire was a crock of shit, period.”
“Bollocks.  The whole continent knows that’s bollocks.  What is the foundation for Dabida?  Imperial law.”
“As the guy said in Carlin, anyone who thinks Cho is a second Jaizal is playing loony-tunes, but Sarat, you have to understand a real sense of grievance.”
“Do I?  Isn’t that the problem?  There’s a lot of stuff that’s common knowledge, like infiltration of the Ciletij military and G-T refusing to do anytning about it.  Not my problem, but how do I tell the difference between a nice ordinary guy and Cult-backed propaganda against me and my family.  Because I am sure anything not going to understand Azt.  You clear out your rats and then we can all see the real picture.”
“I’ve never heard such bloody slime – what the hell do you mean, refuse to do anything about it.  Be saying we’re run by Azt next.”
“You mean you’re not!”  Pause for hysteria.  “You really want to read.  What I know, as in know, is that Dabida, Vasucula and Fidub have been on at you for years.  It’s been in the papers and yes, sorry to have contacts, but I’ve heard it from Vanya, at dinner, Airoch, at dinner, PANTHER, all the time.”
“Oh shit, Sarat!”
Maya said: Heart it from Tar, heard it from the H-W, heard it in the student bar.  You guys need to face facts.  The south is very fed up with you.”
“Worst of all,” said Sarat, “I’ve heard it from the whole of Camp Five.  FAF is very very fed up with you.  You’re using them to keep you safe so you can go on licking Azt’s arse.  Playing both ends against the middle.”
“I do not want to hear this!”
“I do,” said Num, loudly and distinctly.  “Straight down the line, Sarat, Camp Five?” “Half of them were in Kadun – the obvious half! Flip flap fly, fought the Cult.  And FAF sit in a frozen waste so G-T can play palsy-walsy with Searc and get away it?  Azt’d be all over Ciletij if it weren’t for FAF.”
“Profiting from timber sales to Vaudos!” “Comes into it,” said Sarat.
“OF course Fidub is biased in favour of Kadun.”
Maya said: “I think if you ask around you will find Zuri very very biased.  Not hard.  If it weren’t for Varna, for Prog, for Ban-vesit, for Divaldin, Carlin would have fallen.  Do you actually understand what that means?”
“Azt at the border, most of us are not quite that thick.”
 
Kailo: “Perhaps the words Airoch uses are too long.” “You guys are hostile to our gallant allies in Ciletij.
“Yes.  Not of course so hostile that we shan’t save their miserable skins.”
 
Airoch: “I understand there is a Plain Speech Movement, a campaign for lucidity in public life, which of course I back fully.”
 
Air-Commander  (Ciletij Air Fleet).  I have often thought most politicians extremely stupid.  I have to confess Airoch-cha makes a welcome exception.
 
Carlutan thought then announced he was happy to have a quick chat with the Press, perhaps at Volti’s.  The local Press choked slightly, Volti’s being the nearest place of refreshment to Siba Base and generally regarded as one up from a muddy natural spring contaminated by sheep droppings.  Log-distance lorry-drivers stopped there.  Carlutan sat sipping something brown and swirling from a plastic cup, surrounded by three of his pilots.  Indeed there are some very cool guys in Kadun.
“Air-Commander, I think we can guess to what we owe this invitation.” “I doubt it.”
“Us two, we’re Ciletij,” said one of the pilots.  “Not saying there are millions of us, more like five, but that’s not really the point.  A lot of Ciletij generally do recognize who are the good guys here.”
“OK, I did not guess.  So you ran away to KAF!”
“Of course we were vetted by PANTHER.”
“I myself,” said the third pilot, “am a good citizen of Vasucula.”
The journos screwed up their brows.  Definitely were not aware.”
“By the way we like trees!  Seriously, a lot of the – divisions in Ciletij are geographical.  It’s the long border with Cult Kadun.  Up in the north  and to the west – two things.  We’ve always mixed with segani and senoki, it’s a load of garbage there’s ingrained hostility.  And we’re just normal citizens of a democracy, like Fidubi and Dabidans.”
“A few of them in KAF too,” noted Carlutan.   “I actually looked up the numbers.  There are
37 Dabidans, 85 Fidubi and 47 Ciletij.  And 93 Vasuculi.” The Vasuculi allowed himself a small smirk.
“That is pretty wow, a substantial number of fliers, right.”
“They’re not all pilots.”
“Well, just a substantial number, then.  Are you able to tell us more about the situation in the Ciletij Air Fleet?”
“I can hear the screams of traitor! before I even start.  Everyone in Kadun knows the spiel and of course people feel vulnerable.  Not making excuses for anyone but – 20 nani from Azt isn’t a cosy place to be.”
“We have to accept we are a more conventional people than say Zuri.  Partly climate, I mean we wear more clothes because it’s damn’ cold.  But that just makes us like segani.  When people say – Sarat has said – we’re infiltrated, don’t think that’s really the right word, sounds as if we’re full of irturbi.  Corrupted is the word.  I’m going to make a lot of senior officers very angry but they’d be hard pressed to deny it’s true.  1, you have to understand there are many women in the Ciletij military.  2.  I was in the Air Fleet for my national service, so I saw a bit on the ground and I actually also worked with FAF.  I assure you they are not prissy.  There’s a line.  I don’t know, kind of no-one can define it but everyone knows where it is.  Like the so-called joke in Carlin.  Unfunny.  More porn.  The guys got coarser.  Women who complained and they did, loudly, were fobbed off.  Yeah, yeah, it was a joke.  One of the awful things was it was so obvious.  If a woman asked for a transfer.  Yes of course, delighted, where would you like to go, line of least resistance.  Nobody wanted it but nobody stopped it, either.   And the rest of us seethed, being bloody handed over to them on a plate.  We all think there were pay-offs of course, civ, military, anyone with sticky fingers.  It’s a really busy border with Vaudos.”
“That I find really interesting.”
“Thought you might,” said Carlutan.
“And of course there’s a lot of propaganda.  Some of it’s hard-on, fulsome praise of Azt, lot that’s slimier and more subtle.  What we say here is exaggerated – is propaganda.  Look at the benefits to Vaudos of stable government – “ As you say, we know this song!
“Something else I want to say.  We’re all taught about the Rape at school.  Can’t not be, whole history of Ciletij is tied up with the empire.  We’re not.  Well, I wasn’t anyway, taught to hate Kadun today.  It’s history.  Like most history, most people don’t bother much with it.  Except maybe when someone says empire.  I want to say – it’s a bit complicated.  Not that I agree with Sarat, but he’s coming from a genuine place.  Decent sensible people think it happened  and Sarat dismissing them really annoys me.  But I saw in the papers a total toad, my ex-CO to be exact, pretending to be a decent Ciletij officer, mouthing off.  People in Kadun can’t tell the difference.  People in the south can’t.”
“So Ciletij need to name and shame?  I would guess fear is an element, as of course it has been here in Kadun.”
“Yes.  Both bits.”
“The name of the gentleman in question?”
“I can think of other words.  G-T Gazette, don’t suppose you read it.  Air-Colonel Simbaliran.”
“I think we can all look out for further pronouncements!”
“Bomb us.  Now.” Said Carlutan cheerfully.  “They would of course have no more hope than the vamps.”
“On a wider front, Air-Commander, that was a purely spectacular fail in Carlin.  They just made themselves look ridiculous.  Can you think of any reason for it?”
“It was a purely spectacular affront.  It is of course a hell of a flight but certainly Sarat and Maya are welcome at Siba.  It was – that about which they could not do nothing.”
“I have wondered.  Diplomatic channels, protest to Fidub and Dabida?  Useless of course, but
– no more useless.”
“I thought – just my two cents.  If they started a political row, they’d have to keep saying who Sarat is.”
“That is surely an interesting point, reinforcing again and again - ?”
 
 
Cho rang Essa.
“I can hear you sighing from here.” Mitch looked at Heela.
“More than welcome, of course.” Sarat looked at a map.
How different can one airbase be from another?  Very.  Maya likened Burunda to a panther lounging on a tree after a successful kill; Siba she thought more of a ratter prowling the granaries.  It wasn’t that Siba was any less prosperous – it’s hunger, isn’t it, she said to Jaizi. Don’t know they’re alive in Carlin, said Jaiz.  These guys have had it rough.  They had their moments, said Maya.  Vaudosi?  Later she had a more complex perception.
“They want something from you,” she said to Sarat. Baz grinned.
“Just be the adorable you.”
“Shoot your mouth off,” said Paw, “that’s all they ask.” “There are some quite conservative guys here.”
“Doesn’t matter.  They know which side they’re on.”
“Slight mismatch,” said Jaizi.  “They think you bothered to come.  You think try keeping me away.”
After three days at Siba the heli landed on the flat bit behind the House, called the grounds for convenience, though more the back garden; the sides and front have no perimeter fence.  There is however a moat.  No drawbridge, the bridge is fixed, bridges for the moat encircles the House, which is approximately five rooms long by three deep; it is for the most part a bungalow or if you are feeling more forgiving a chalet.  However the side walls rear into towers reaching to the heavens: look-out posts. Althugh there is no first floor, there is in the wide entrance hall a grand staircase, which leads to a half-landing off which are doors to the gallery of the Great Hall.  The House has been described as ‘a most curious edifice’.  Mitch grins and says it is what realtors mean by ‘a character property’.  
And so the bonds were forged that were to shake the continent to its foundations, etc, etc.
Love at first sight?  It was.
“We meet at last!” said Sarat.
“Gee,” said Mitch, “I have heard so much about you.”
The back yard, ever a bustle of activity, stopped to frankly stare, but there was no ra-ra-ra.  Just another one of Mitch’s radical pals.  Like hell! Let the lad put his feet up first. Do it proper later Changri had decreed. Been reading it ip.  Mitch had felt cautious, reasoning Changri’s idea of doing it proper might not be Sarat’s, which he presumed to be Maya’s.  Things can change in a thousand years.  Sounds impeccable to me, Heela had said.   Formal but not extravagant, Mitch agreed.  For the moment Sarat met only Great Aunt Asaa and Uncle Wilan, both of whom had invited themselves to stay.  Asaa looked him up and down.  Ah, Cho’s cub.  “I am he!” said Sarat. “You intend to get arrested?”  she asked with some enthusiasm. It was revealed this small stooped old lady of some 88 years was quite possibly worse than Mitch and had been notorious. 
Marula also had invited herself, along with Vannina and Cantilip, but was not arriving until tomorrow.
 
Dill  had absorbed ‘real modern young guy’ and prepared a small entertainment.  Baria had sidled up to her grandmother.  We’ve got something to show you.  Kyle had laughed all the way through and pronounced it delectable, entirely fit for public viewing.   
“Our children,” said Mitch, “have prepared a short topical presentation.  Our subject is the use of smartphones by teens.”    Dill had thought it prudent he attend rehearsal to make doubly sure it would be OK.  Karula, chief foe in this respect, had not been let in.
Enter Dill
Mom disapproves of how much time we spend on our phones.  She says we shall develop the concentration spans of headless chickens.  We wish to show we can understand words of more than three letters.  The Var-sega’ Players present an excerpt from Silently She Trod. Qirl stepped forward and unrolled a short scroll.  Baria crosses the room behind him holding up a placard and pointing to it: IT’S ALL ON THE GRID
The scene is a room in the House at Var-sega’.  Samia ban-sarndit-vaq a most eru- - eru – I can never prounce that – “ Erudite said Dill in a stage whisper
Erudite and learned lady sits surrounded by many volumes of enormous cultural significance and historic moment  –
I got that from the Guidebook, murmured Dill.  Baria crossed back waving her placard, then held up another one: SOLILOQUY BY DILL.  MIME BY QIRL.
These words so crowd my mind that I do hear in dreams distant voices calling
[Picture of someone addressing a crowd – hand to ear – head to one side, resting on hands together – hand to ear.  Baria returns to walking back and forth with IT’S ALL ON THE
GRID]
Thus directed do I ride league on league and see great cities, empty plains and men [Finger pointing – hands making galloping motion – hand above eyes as though gazing into distance]
Who do with argument abound and reason most enchantingly upon high matters
[Graphic of question-marks, ‘But’, ‘If’, ‘And’ – 2+2 = 4  -
How best to steer the ship of state, while flowers dance, the very earth gives rise  [Rowing movement – as though holding girl in arms to dance -  pointing frantically at the floor] To visions
[Wide eyes]
That which cannot be …
[Shakes head, obviously didn’t see what I thought I saw]
 
Just freeze that frame, that small and merry gathering of what you might call extended family.  In ten years’ time the unimaginable will have befallen them.
 
 “I would not think that critical,” said Karula, “considering the most run-down areas are the poorest.  Start on the doorstep.” “But who is to pay? The State?” Mitch smiled.
“You call in a private company to fix the road outside your door because no-one else will.  I think it is the case that throughout the south public thoroughfares are considered at least a municipal responsibility.”
“Persons of middling income will not vote for increased taxation.”
“Maybe,” said Mitch and smiled at Sarat.
Sarat said: “The highways were under public control under imperial law.  It comes from the bit about living without hindrance.  If a road is private, then you may be barred from using it.”
“A considerable amount of hooey,” said Mitch, “is uttered with the purpose of indicating that the standards of the civilized world are alien to Kadun, but that is not of course the case.” Heela smiled.
“WE have of course here at expert in imperial law.”
“No way!” said Sarat.  “But we do have – the Constitution of Dabida is derived from imperial law and A-M have to learn it inside out and back to front.” “You are where in the succession?” demanded Asaa.
“Was,” said Maya.  “Fifth. Mel, Hass, Pietri, my father, Vij.  Until Mel has kids. It was never going to happen anyway, but Tar said he didn’t quite think Sarat would do as King of Dabida, so I gave it up.”
“Indeed,” said Heela, failing to keep a straight face.
“The reverse, of course,” pursued Asaa.
“It’s a possibility,” said Maya.
“I am sure you can tell us much about the Dabidan model.” Very old ladies, thought Sarat, are allowed to issue orders.
 
They had noticed immediately that there were no dogs and it became apparent there were no cats, rabbits or hamsters either.  They invented reasons: allergy?  There had indeed when he was 12 been a girl in Sarat’s class who claimed she couldn’t sit next to him because he brought on her asthma.  Of course you must come to Fidub!  Only…
Sarat found he felt strangely off about approaching the subject, as though it were indelicate but plunged in.
“Obviously lovely if you stayed in Fidub, only we can’t help noticing – does someone have a fur allergy?”
“First thing you meet,” said Maya, “is Essa’s wolfhounds.  Of course you can always stay with Cho.”
“WE have stables,” said Mitch.
“And no ratters?  Four-footed ones.”
Not sure it’s the epitome of courtesy to grill the House on whether it has a kitchen-cat.
“Tell you later,” said Mitch.
 
Mitch took Sarat and Maya out to see some of the sights of Var-sega’, for instance the foaming Biril, a notoriously polluted river.
Sarat looked at it sorrowfully.  “I just don’t fancy a swim.”  Then he warmed to his subject.  Counter-productive.  Source of recreation.  Source of food.  Danger to wildlife, danger to livestock.  Danger to people.  Danger to the very oceans.  Because Barbantin, who are not short of a buck, refuses to deal with its garbage.  The wanton discharge of toxic waste into the public arena.  Absolute contempt for people, for the planet, for anything except the next dollar.  
Not scared of being sued, then, Sarat
No legislation demanding they clear up their own garbage. Puh-lease weren’t they toilettrained. Yes I’m equating this with human waste, except in some ways it’s worse, such as not being bio-degradable.
“Perhaps we should not quite pursue that one, at least publicly. I am sure Mitch has tld ou the back drp, the exigencies of war.  Further, to engage staff on this ‘trivialty’ would take men awy from vital military production lines. “Or military service itself,” added Mitch.
“Mitch has told me a lot about Barbantin, not least that they have a near monopoly and think they run the joint.  It occurred to me a little healthy competition might focus them better.”
“Employ women?” suggested Maya.
“My lady Maya!  This is men’s work. Caapital M, capital W.”
“So it’s OK for kids to fall into this sewer, but not OKfor women to – got it.  No legislation protecting them or anyone else.” Mitch nodded sagely.
“You may be getting the hang of this.”
“Bah!  What Sarat said.  Arms need twisting. The larger concern of course is the poor guys who work unprotected.  A guy who developed tumours on his kidneys got backed by CLIK to sue.  Of course the House backed him too.  Everyone thought the medical evidence was castiron.  It was – “
Through murmurmuring of you know about that, hey.  We are not exactly uninformed. “You might not have heard of See Piss, as it is lamentably called.  It’s a PANTHER organization, C-P-I-S, Committee for Probity in Science.  Dad’s part of it.  He was livid.  He thought – they all thought Futura Labs falsified data on behalf of Barbantin – “
“They’ll sue you.  No joke.”
“They all thought Futura falsified data on behalf of Barbantin.  It made the Times.  On their Grid-site.”
“The Straits Times?  Very much in the public arena.”
“The case failed.  It’s pretty much given that if you’re exposed to x microns human cells go waaah! and turn cancerous. Pretty much, by the way, mean the idiosyncrasies of the individual human body.  You can probably always find an exception, people who smoke or work with toxic substances and don’t get sick.  These things take their time.  Like – suppose you lived till 80 and never got sick.  Your resistance might have give up by the time you were 90 or a post-mortem would show the beginnings of sickness.  Barbantin were clever. They said that level of exposure is a nonsense and here is the evidence independently assessed to prove it. So all the evidence was circumstantial.  Given the processes and machines used, in the notorious absence of any health and safety provision it follows that the level of exposure will be…They said the notorious absence was garbage and they had a special filtration system.  The guys working there never noticed it but they weren’t expert witnesses and PANTHER took a look but their evidence was thrown out on the grounds of illegal entry.” “A filtration system invisible to the human eye!  Among a lot of things, I think many of us were not aware PANTHER had other -  branches or is that Sardun!”
“Other fish to fry?”
“Always did,” said Baz.  “Empire’s social workers.”
“Cease and desist in the emperor’s name!” carolled Paw.
“About the size of it,” said Sarat.
“Good headline?” suggested Mitch.  
“Serious,” said Sarat.  “Of each we uphold the right to live without hindrance.  Imperial law.  In fairness I don’t tink it applied to fish but I am sure guys being made sick by their work are being badly hindered.”
“The core point of course,” said Mitch, “is there is what I think we may call a meme or perhaps a flavour indicating the standards of civilized people are alien to Kadun, and that of course is nonsense.”
“To none in need shall physic be withheld,” said Baz.
“Does that mean what I think it means – you are seriously telling me the empire offered free healthcare?  I really don’t think I believe that.”
“Tough,” said Sarat.  “Obviously there were no antibiotics, x-rays.  What treatments there were had to be available to all, even if all that could be done was alleviate suffering.”
“The public hospital in Sinva is in fact an ancient foundation,” said Mitch. “Go read their statutes.”
“So part of the problem is in fact – advances in medical science, pushing the cost up.” “Kadun is not poor,” said Sarat.
“Part of the problem is Big Pharma,” said Mitch.  “I can cite you 300% profit on basic drugs,
Vivala for blood pressure.” “We know they’re rats, Mitch.”
“I’m a cat,” said Sarat.
“Going back to – surely trained chemists would be required.  Whatever you think of it, I suspect we don’t have many women chemists.”
 
“Take Nelotides,” said Maya.  “They make armaments for the Quadrant. We know there are a number of fantasies circulating about southern industry moving into Kadun.  That’s probably not going to happen because of the A-word, automation.  I mean it wouldn’t be Day One, you’re in a dirty factory with unsafe machinery and Day Two you’re in a clean factory with safe machinery doing exactly the same thing, because the work you did in the dirty factory doesn’t exist in the new one.  None of us is about putting irturbi out of work.  Kadun has to sort herself out first.”
“I would think Mitch’s friends in CLIK are very much about protecting jobs.”
“It has to come and they know it has to come,” said Mitch.  “The question is managing it.”
“So the Quadrant’s fine armaments are not actually made by people.”
  “Of course there was one hell of a row – one specialist system is not snatching bread from the mouths of our workers, but there is the question of patriotism.  Of course we must support our own industries.  Was that Nelotides?”
“A missile detcction system,” explained Mitch.  “Rewn said he bought the best.  And it is not good to accuse Rewn of lack of patriotism.”
“He laughs too loudly,” said one of the journos enthusiastically.  
 
MIAOW! 
Persons turned, startled.  
Secret PANTHER call-sign, said Baz, looking at his phone.  He snorted.
“Mail from Hass.  Dear Narulis, couple of cartoons from the Zur Gazette. TTT if you will stalk Kadun quoting imperial law.”
He passed the phone to Maya, who also snorted and passed it without comment to Sarat, while of  the throng all searched Zur Gazette.
Raya  in Azt, stars in her eyes, hugging herself in ecstasy, standing in front of a building labelled Imperial Library.  “Mine, all mine!”
Maya in Azt sitting on the Anile Throne.  Zani inset: “Well, now, there’s a turn-up!  Of course I wasn’t paired with Narulis.”
“Oh for,” said Sarat.  “Zani.” 
Some weren’t quite sure how it was appropriate to react and others who didn’t give a damn about that.
“A reputation as something of a bookworm?” 
“We must assume Zani and Susheela was never a possibility!”
“Still, I have thought it strange she found no-one else, some dashing young Fidubi.” “There would surely have been – difficulties.” “Oh, there would,” said Sarat.
“I suppose the poor lady was somewhat traumatized.” Sarat was very taken aback.
“Obviously she’d had a hairy time.  Not too traumatized to found Sohenoil!  She was quite a lady.”
“The House bathes in reflected glory,” said Mitch.  “I have to confess we know very little of
Susheela’s life in Fidub.  Other considerations at the time.” Eeek.  Fortunately distraction was at hand.
“Sohenoil is that ancient?  I think they did not then drill for oil.”
“Oh,” said Sarat.  “No.  Not that kind of oil.  In the retail trade like AMI, sort of cousins.  Cooking oil.  The oil from the sira.”
“And Susheela – “
“She and Falnos, her eldest.  They had to fund PANTHER.” Baz retold the story with bells on.  
From this Sarat deduced that Var-sega’s journos were not forumites.  Reasonable.  Like putting an alcoholic in a brewery.
 
Here we are back at the House, the evening drawing to a close, dinner-guests departed, Asaa indeed retired for the night, but Wilan going strong.
 
Sarat waffled away in bed.
“Can’t work it out.  I know Cho was close to Heela’s father.  Does Heela not know?” Maya persisted in being reasonable.
“Even if Heela does know, Mitch has been in the City.  Nothing I know about him suggests he would have had the faintest interest in ancient history before he left!  It’s only a subject because we’re here.”
“I’ll call Cho.”
“Greetings,” said Cho. “You wish me to post bail?”
“Having a wonderful time, wish you were here.  Want to ask you sometime.  Mitch expressed vague interest in learning what happened to Susheela.”
“Ah.”
“He is Sardun.”
“Who were of course closely involved at the time.  This may be more readily digested in Vk.”
“Heela doesn’t know?  Marula’s pitching up tomorrow.”
“Excellent.  The subject never arose.”
“Maya thought that.  Out of 20 billion things to talk about.  But I should tell them?”
“You think they have a right to know.”
“Yes,” said Sarat thoughtfully.  “On the whole I do.  It’s all our history.”
“All of it,” said Cho laughing, “down to the last molecule of Fidubi silver.”
“It’s not really my field, he bleated.  What does Marula know?”
“Suddenly you are very far from home.”
“Nonsnese, all the best people live in Casin-ruhn.  Stop laughing like that.  Yes.  I know exactly nothing about Sardun at the eso level.”
“Then you too will learn.”
“Does Heela know about the chair?”
“Oh yes.  Possibly he has sat on it.  And Marula, of course.”
“Sat on Marula?”
“That is not possible.”
“May I show them the documents.”
“Yes.  And download.  You are being unusually sensitive about this.” “It’s very very personal to me.  It  - is me, everything I am.”
“Think about that,” said Cho.
But Marula was not arriving until late afternoon.  Our star of the following day was a waste disposal facility that failed to dispose of biological waste, specifically that from hospitals, amputated limbs, organs.  So Sarat was told.  The stink helped.  High fences PRIVATE BEWARED OF THE DOGS prevented entry.  
Back to the House.  Marula reclined, Cantilip knelt on the floor talking to Qirl.  Saban stood by the window.  Behna chatted amiably to Heela and Dill.  Vannina was doing a jigsaw with Baria.  A delegation.
“Ah, here they are,” said Kyle. Marula smiled.
“Should there not be a fanfare of trumpets?”
“Maya can do guitar,” said Sarat.  “I’m quite good on drums.” Saban laughed out loud.
Cantilip had jumped up. “Delicious.  So pleased.”
Yup, Cantilip is pretty delicious, in what would have been bottle-green fatigues, had they not been made of heavy silk, shining dark green hair cascading down her back.  Kyle was among the first to contemplate how fortunate (or unfortunate, depending on your perspective) Sarat was already paired. 
“The revolutionaries,” said Behna enthusiastically.
“We try,” said Mitch.
Well isn’t this just a happy family reunion.  At one point Sarat and Cantilip were arguing about the seeding of Derera’s pine.  Complex glances were exchanged and it wasn’t a reproach that conversatoin be more general.  
“You have to come!” said Cantilip.
“Of course I have to come!” said Sarat, “In other words thank youfor your kind invitation.” Dinner was held.  The children went reluctantly to bed. Sarat felt that he metaphorically cleared his throat.
“Mitch said you didn’t know what happened to Susheela.  I do!  She kept a journal.  Don’t know if you’d like to hear the story.”
“You have Susheela’s journal.  That would be superb.” “We are agog,” said Kyle.
Sarat said: “I think I need first to say – it’s the wildest craziest other matter story.  I’m a scientist.  There are parts of it I flatly don’t believe.  Which means.  I believe people say what they think happened.  Whether it actually happened and wasn’t a further layer of illusion is something else.” “What on earth – “ began Mitch.
Sarat gave way to laughter.
“Good question.”
“Lemme set the scene,” said Maya.  “Zani defeated Jaizal before the Great Gates!  It’s Zur’s favourite story, only of course he didn’t, he defeated Corsin.  Jaizal was nowhere around.”
“First Event was before that,” said Sarat.
“Just getting there.  Jaizal hath sent a mighty army forth to conquer Fidub.  Only the guys in the mighty army didn’t much like Jaizal and joined with the guys in the south.  We call it the First Event.  So they turned round and went back.  News of this reached Azt and turmoil began. In the midst of which Jaizal quietly vanished.”
“They said, the rat has fled!  They said he was murdered, they said he’d escaped by sea.  None of these is actually true.  He went to look for his chair.  My chair.” “You – “ began Heela, then let Sarat continue.  
“As you know, I think you know, some of you know, the actual throne is in Casin-ruhn – “
“What!” said Mitch.
“I think you have their attention,” murmured Maya.
“Van-senok nicked it,” said Sarat.
“We are forgiven?” asked Marula with something close to a giggle.
“You weren’t to know it would end up in Ciletij.”
“Dear Varchulan,” said Maya, “you have something of ours, please may we have it back.” “Why,” said Sarat, “is I think unclear.  Obviously something to do with Casin-ruhn, maybe some kind of purification?”
“The goddess lives in an ice-palace at the bottom of the lake,” said Cantilip cheerfully. 
“Mummy thinks it’s sort of rededicating the land to her, recrowning her queen.”
“At least they didn’t chuck it in the lake!”  Mitch.  “I am understanding the throne is buried among the trees?”
“Oh no,” said Sarat.  “There’s a cabin, a rather strange cabin, get to that later.  Yea, many legends surround the Anile Throne.  It sings, dances, plays the piano.  Possibly a chorus of dancing-bears high-kicks across the floor of the Ciletij Senate when someone sits on it.  The problem with all this stuff is at least some of it is true.  When you sit on the chair – we call it the chair because it looks like a kitchen chair, total absence of scrolls or clawed feet – you trip, in the modern sense, take a mental journey.”
“I cling to the practical,” said Mitch.  “I wondered how on earth it was possible to get it out of Azt, but if it – nondescript, presumably it would not have been hard to load it onto a cart.” “It’s solid silver,” sighed Sarat, “but sure, tarnished, covered in mud.  OK, there we are, a might army is advancing on Azt.  Susheela was not in Azt either.  He kept her and her children away from it all in the Summer Palace. He understood she was special and she understood – she understood he needed her, she was his last – sole – foothold on sanity.  Her brothers tred to rescues her but she wouldn’t leave.  What she said was taking her children, the youngest then just a baby, would endanger them all.  She wouldn’t leave her children.  She would not leave Jaizal – “
“I trust you will not feed us southern psycho-babble claiming he was misunderstood?” “First hear the story,” said Sarat.  
“I for one will not hear such nonsense.”
“Then listen and learn,” said Sarat.  “t’s a really exciting story.  Jaizal had a younger brother and a sister, so there were three people he trusted, Vargilia, Samas and Susheela, all of whom he kept locked up, but what are locks to – any of us.  Oh dear, Samas has escaped, the brother.  Corsin of course launched amn-hunt, fearing people would rally to him.  They looked in the wrong direction.  Samas had gone to Fidub.  Long and complicated story.  Jaizal surmised correctly that PANTHER knew where the chair was.  Samas feared to deliver himself to PANTHER thinking, also possibly correctly, they’d kill him.  Jaizal had to have the real chair.  He thought it might heal him and was more likely to kill him but that was a rightful death, the emperor on the throne, unlike other possible demises.  Yea, many legends surround the throne!  It’s silver, Fidubi silver.  As we know, Fidub is geologically bizarre.  The Institute of Geophysics on Arit spent ten years trying to find out why the Isles sing.  Also burns the tootsies of the bad guys.  These properties are contained, it is said, in the throne.  If I sat Krarlik on it, he’d burn.  Possibly.  If I sat on it, it’d sing.  Possibly.  Samas had the sense to go to the shrine at M-P.  They hadn’t known the throne had been swapped and were curious.  They made enquiries…Alas, it is in Van-senok. Something of a downer for Jaizal, but they could see no harm in his knowing and let Samas return to Kadun. Fidub, Fidub, Isles of the Blest, Jewel of the East, Star of the West.  He winced.  He was a cultured man.  It’s all the same story.  He had no interest whatever in what is now Dabida.  If he could conquer Fidub, then the shrine would either kill or cure.  Corsin of course simply wanted Fidub under the heel.  
When it became clear the army wasn’t going to get anywhere, he made his last public appearance on this earth, addressing the Senate, lot of guff about the necessity of total victory, entrusted Susheela to Samas, and vanished.  He was just about the most hated man on the continent, but he still had his powers and he was going away from the war.  He thought he had a chance.  He wanted of course to take Susheela but that would just have made it more likely they’d all be murdered, by bandits if nothing else. Two things.  Increasing cries of The empire is dead!  Not fruitful ground for her, Zani, her son, any – contender for the throne.  The other thing is the mob in Azt doesn’t seem to have thought of her.  Loot was what was on its mind.  PANTHER thought of her.  The staff, guards either fled or loved her, basically.  She was just that sort of lady.  They understood she was as much a prisoner as they.  Had been.  Jaizal had always arrived by water, in the imperial barge. They were close to the river.  PANTHER pitched up in a much cruder barge and apparently that bit was quite easy.  See a woman with three kids in old and dirty clothes on an old and dirty barge and you don’t particularly think – lo, it is the Empress!  The docks were in chaos, trade disrupted, food rotting, rats fleeing.  Rumour of a fleet coming up from the south.  That bit’s total garbage, the battle between the Imperial Fleet and Fidub was far to the south.” I am hypnotized, thought Mitch, this is my history. “They did not change sides?” asked Heela.
“Some surrendered, but what they called the black ships of course didn’t.  Not so many surrendering.  Of course they had no news of the about-turn.  Now, as Cho puts it, the House of Fire really did not want to know that Sonny that screwed up, but they were decent people and took them in.  So there she was in a foreign country with her cats and they were already saying, never, ever, ever again dependent, on anyone, ever, never.  For a time of course they were getting constant news from Kadun but then the dust settled and cat-future had to be settled too.  Jaizal reached Casin-ruhn – “
“He what!  Sorry, pray continue…” Saban smiled.
“Sardun know this story.”
Marula looked at him sharply but said nothing.  Karula said unexpectedly, “There is an old myth that Jaizal haunts Casin-ruhn.  It is part of its being a place of pure evil.  I find I am on the edge of my seat as to – what element of truth!”
“Susheela began her journal, a very private one.  I guess it helped her debrief.”
“So you know – exactly what passed.”
 “Everything they did to Jaizal.  He knew, you see, he knew what had been done to him.  That’s why he kept her locked away, the one part of him that was still Jaizal.  She was the only person in the world who called him Jaizal.  He talked sometimes in his sleep.  Sometimes he screamed.  He had to have the chair. So he went to find it. They said, he was killed by his own guards, but no body was found.  They said, he escaped by water and died at sea, and no wreckage could be found.  They said, the rat has fled.  Disguise accent, disguise body language, to disguise the profile is hard but he still had his power, blurring vision, erasure of what you just saw, and Kadun was not densely populated.  Nonetheless he was the single most hated man on the continent.  He arrived at Casin-ruhn and sat on the chair.  He had no idea what if anything would happen.  At first it seemed that he was burning and then the dross was burned away and he tripped, in the modern sense, visions of past and present and who knows where and – ss if I can remember it, ‘then it seemed to me like unto death, but it was only sleep and wakefulness found me on a couch of furs and a great man did tend the fire but must this not be another dream.”  He wrote to Susheela.
“Sarat! You – have – Jaizal’s letter.”  Mitch.
“We have Jaizal’s love-letters.  They’re amazing, he managed to both pour out his wounded heart to her and be totally without self-pity or self-justification.  He saw everything with painful clarity.  Sarat grinned wildl y at Saban.  “Sardun dropped in from time to time, even then.  From them he got news and quill and parchment. And they said, let her forget. And he said, no, she must know from me I am alive and whole and at peace and that is her peace. So he wrote to Susheela.  My love.  And she wrote back.  They corresponded so far as was possible. I mean this wasn’t pop to the post-box.  Sardun were the couriers.  And when the youngest was 18, she said, I go now, and she took ship, which was a lot safer than crossing Kadun, for anyone,  and went to him.  It gets worse.  The great man in furs was Kaminua and with him my lady Asyrion.”
“Sarat!”
“Casin-ruhn, abode of dead emperors.  Even Jaizal was not entirely – ‘But I did become persuaded they had found immortality among the trees, though a strange immortality where one’s needs are those of men for assuredly they eat and drink as mortals do and this is beyond my understanding.”  Yes, that is the nub!  There is just something about supposedly immortal people roasting haunch of moose.  We think they’re Denzine shape-changers, but no-one has ever been able to break the illusion and no-one has a clue why it has been kept up for nearly a thousand years. Cho’s met Kaminua too. You may well say, why didn’t Jaizal ask them?  He did!  Why don’t I~ - ?  You have meetings here, there must be a screen. Another question of course is why didn’t Sardun kill him. Then they really are lost to history. Sardun escorted them to the coast.  It is thought they set sail for Harn.  Of course after everything they might have foundered at sea.”
“Thank you so much!” said Karula.  “That is the most amazing story I have heard in my life!”
“A screen?” asked Mitch.  “This is on-line, a private archive.”
Sarat laughed 
“As soon as it was possible to scan things we scanned everything, for the simple reason that the only guys interested were in Kadun.  Historians have always trekked to Fidub.”
“We repairto the Library!” declared Heela.  “Absolutely riveting.  I thank you also.  The history of this House is enriched by this story.”
Kyle asked one question: “how old was she?”
Sarat smiled.  “Young enough.  There has been a great deal of sniffing around.  If they had more children, no-one knows whose children they were.”
“You have met Tima in the forum,” said Rewn.  “His antecedent of course was Samas.” My lady Susheela, my love. 
I would wish you know me alive and well and in safety.  There is much mystery in this place and my understanding fails me but I have sat on the throne and it seemed to me a great anguish in my heart such that it was bursting, breaking out of my chest and I was burning in pain beyond imagining, and many strange visions.  The stars shrivelled and died, and I so I thought myself with them, and I was content, but it was only sleep and wakefulness found me on a couch of furs and a great man did tend the fire but must this not be another dream.  I say only here that this lor of the wilderness, guardian of the throne knew me and bears me no ill will…
“Later,” said Sarat, “when he was sure of her and more confident in his couriers, he wrote freely.”
And I said I must ask it, for are we not taught that to die is to leave the body, and yet you feast.  He said, what point bereft of life’s pleasures.  In that I saw reason but scarce explanation.  But how came you to perceive this gift?  I was sick unto death, said my lady, and it was taught me.  I beseeched but one thing, that it be shared with my beloved.  But you wish to know by whom!  They came from a world they called Sug, from beyond the stars.  Nor were they as men, but smaller and more rounded in form.  They had a vessel that crossed the skies.  Fleeing from their homeland, they sought sanctuary elsewhere and so came to rest among the trees.  They say Death pursued them but always they outran him, and it was they the Cult sought to destroy.  
“When you think it really can’t get any worse, “ said Maya, “it gets worse.”
“Oh yes,” said Sarat.  “Ciletij.  Trees.  I was roaming the Grid looking at good solid worthy stuff, the incidence of Yata’s pine – “ The wild grin again, this time directed at Cantilip.  “ – which I do appreciate is entirely distinct from Dira’s pine, when I followed a link and fell off the edge.”
“Jaaba-Sen?” asked Saban.
“Jaaba-Sen indeed.  That piece of the planet has quite a reputation.”
“Including of course aliens,” said Maya.  “I really thought about this.  Decided I had no problem with the principle of aliens, the possibility, just an awful lot with them popping
down to Casin-ruhn and not otherwise introducing themselves.”
“Is that polite!” demanded Sarat.  “See why Van-senok got shot of it, at least.  When a border with Ciletij was drawn up, V-k, said take it, it’s yours! Goes far beyond just giving them Casin-ruhn.”
Cantilip looked startled.
“It was originally V-k?  I did not know that.” “Nor I,” said Behna. “Old news,” said Marula.
“If you look at the old maps, V-k goes right up to the ice,” said Heela.  He smiled.  “We gave nothing to Vasucula.”
 “That is all very fine and laudable,” said Karula, “let there be peace between our two tribes. 
It is surely a little surprising that they left the throne there.”
“I thought that,” said Sarat.  “Then I thought, well OK, they didn’t exactly what it back in
Azt, did they.  I’m guessing they thought – like a memorial to the empire.”
“If it is there,” said Maya with a particularly deep sigh.  “To those of normal perception, I mean.”
Just enjoy, thought Saban.
“The trouble is normal people go there.  There’s a Commemoration Society and it gathers every year.  I’ve seen the vids.  If we look at the satellite pix…Lake.  Building.  If we go now to the vids….Lake.  Building. There’s  a shack there.  I don’t suppose the Ciletij worthies even think about it.  It’s described as a log-store.  But there was one year – a blizzard descended out of the blue and so any shelter is better than no shelter, the door was opened – and they were confronted by piles of logs.  Evertything about this story is impossible!”
“How do they get there?” asked Mitch
“Good question!  Although it’s a national day of remembrance, not many people actually attend because it’s practically impossible.  Someone represents the government, someone represents the military, there’re members of the Commemoration Committee, an obligatory film-crew and that’s that.  Sea-plane.  Land on the lake.”
Behna grinned.
“Bet the goddess loves that!” Sarat tutted.
“Most disruptive!”
“Sub-plot,” said Maya, “attempted Cult infiltration of the Committee.  Hats off to them they said go hang.  The H-W work with SIS.  Please continue.” Mitch asked, “You trust SIS?”
“Not a lot,” said Maya.  
Mitch looked as if he wanted to pursue the subject but Heela frowned at him.
“There is therefore a shack,” continued Sarat.  “If you arrive unannounced, if you are for instance Cho, or – “  He sighed again.  “Others throughout the years, you get a different picture.  A freshly painted and clearly inhabited cabin.  In about a third of it stands the chair, on a little stone plinth.  The rest is apparently where people live, there are two bunks, blankets, a stove, chairs and tables, stores.  The logs are piled outside.  The merry occupants duly arrive, laughing, welcoming, stamping the snow off their boots.”
“It makes no sense!” said Maya joyfully.  “No sense if you believe in an after-life.  No sense if you’re a materialist.  Absolutely no sense if you’re a biologist.”
“X-rays,” growled Sarat.  “Blood samples.”
I have rarely, thought Marula, seen Saban looking so absolutely happy.
“We continue to pop in,” he said.  “Such has been thought by others.  But as you say no-one has broken the spell.”
“I am Sardun,” said Mitch softly.  “I am therefore not ignorant of the more basic aspects of the other matter.  But I a rationalist. Specifically I have no problem with the idea that we are
– finite.I have to say I feel dragged through a hedge backwards.  At least we have in the
Denzines a tentative explanation for Kaminua, but – no-one has asked them?”