“Don’t worry, I’ll spare you that.”
“Good. We have been known to run some people out of town. And as far as we know, there isn’t another town on the whole damn planet.”
The sled came slowly to a halt at the base of the pyramid. Ozzie and Orion pulled their gloves on again, covered their faces, and stepped out carrying their packs. Another couple of the Korrok-hi warbled mournfully to Bill as they started to unharness the big ybnan that had pulled the sled. Some humans (or human-shaped) had come over, dressed in the same bulbous fur coats as Sara wore. There were other aliens as well, a small gnomish creature with five limbs and two things like snakes with legs, all wearing coats of icewhale fur. Ozzie stopped to study them; he’d never seen their kind before. He began to wonder just how far into the galaxy the Silfen paths ran.
“This way,” Sara beckoned. “Iusha will stable your lontrus for you.” There were a number of archways of various sizes along the base of the pyramid, from trapdoor height up to an opening wide enough to take two sleds at once. There was a lot of activity around them, with animals (again types he’d never seen) and aliens coming in and out. Several sleds resembling racing toboggans were being prepared.
She led them through one of the archways into an antechamber with plain black marble walls. At the far end was a big revolving door made from bone, with thin crystal windowpanes. “It’s like a heat-lock,” she said as she pushed one of the panels and set the doors moving.
Beyond that was a wide corridor walled with the same marble. Long panels of quartz were set into the ceiling, with pink sunlight pouring out of them. Ozzie stood underneath one and squinted into the glare, but there was nothing to see.
“They light the whole place,” she said. “It’s like a root network of big crystal ducts leading down from the mirrors on the pyramid. Same principle as our fiber-optic cable, but big, much bigger, the ducts are a meter wide.”
The corridor angled down slightly, then opened out into broad stairs that curved around out of sight. They started their descent. The curve was actually a wide spiral. Ozzie lost track of how many times they went around, and how deep they were. It was a long way down. Sara took her face mask off, then unbuttoned the front of her coat. She was wearing woolen trousers and a thick blue sweater underneath. Ozzie realized he was getting warmer, and unzipped his own coat.
“What heats this place?”
“Hot springs,” she told them. “It was built right above them. I wasn’t kidding about that bath.”
The stairs ended at an archway. Sara watched as they walked out onto the main floor of the Ice Citadel. Ozzie took a few steps in, and came to a halt. He’d entered an alien cathedral, a vaulting dome at least eighty yards high. Pillars curved up the wall like some arcane rib cage, supporting seven balcony rings. It had to be a religious monument. The alcove walls between the pillars were carved marble. Thousands of different creatures stared out at Ozzie, every third was a Silfen. Somehow, the artist had given each one a majesty surpassing the divine quality suggested for the human prophets. They’d all been captured at the same moment of revelation and veneration, seeing the wonder dwelling beyond the physical universe. The bas-relief landscapes around them ranged from arboreal scenes to stark landscapes with exotic moons in the sky, cities of grandiose buildings and even technological surroundings. Right at the apex, a mandala of crystal strips shone brighter than the sunlight outside. “Jesus wept,” he exclaimed. As proof that the Silfen did have a tangible culture it was a startling introduction.
In the center of the floor was a large pool, fed by a raised fountain, whose waters steamed gently as it splashed and gurgled. There was no altar or rows of seating, which Ozzie was half expecting. Long tables made of bone and leather had been set up on granite paving that was worn and badly cracked. On the other side, a large rectangular stone hearth had been built, with neat brick-walled ovens on top. Flames were visible flickering through grids set in the base. Judging by the background smell in the room, and the soot clogging the oven brickwork, it was some kind of fat-based oil fuel. Several humans and aliens fussed around on tables next to the hearth, preparing a meal.
The chamber obviously served as a main meeting place for the Ice Citadel residents. Even in the daytime it was busy. The number of species astounded Ozzie; he could make out at least twelve different types. Creatures with three legs, four legs, six legs, some that squirmed or wriggled across the floor, one that hopped, and something that was either a young Raiel or a close cousin. Big and small, they had skins in many shades, scales, fur, spines, and oil-rainbow membranes; clothes on those that bothered ranged from simple togas to practical utility harnesses.
Like the statues, every creature was now focused on Ozzie and Orion. They were stared at, smelled, echo-sounded, heat-scanned…
Orion edged behind Ozzie, who returned the attention levelly. “Where are they all from?” Ozzie asked. “Do we know their star systems?”
“It doesn’t matter where they come from,” Sara said dismissively. “Only that they are here now. Why do you want to classify them? That’s the first step toward segregation.”
“Nobody’s classifying,” Ozzie snapped back. “Man, this has got to be the most important gathering of cultures we know of. There are more species represented here than even the High Angel hosts. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“It means we have a broad fund of abilities to help us survive.”
“I’ve got to find out where they come from, if they know anything more about the Silfen.”
“Introductions later,” Sara said. “Your rooms are over here.” She led them around the edge of the chamber. There was a corridor leading off between every set of pillars on the ground level. The one they walked down opened into a cluster of three simple circular rooms. There was crude human-style furniture in one of them: a sleeping cot and a pair of sling chairs. The leg on one chair was broken, and the leather so old and cracked it looked like it would tear if anyone sat on it. A bathing pool took up half of the last room, filling the air with steam. Orion stuck his hand in the clear water, and smiled happily at how hot it was.
“Take your time to freshen up,” Sara said. “The evening meal is served in a couple of hours. It’s kind of tradition that the newest arrivals tell their stories and bring us all the news from whatever part of the galaxy they’ve come from.”
“I can manage that,” Ozzie said.
“Good.” Her expression was troubled. “You won’t try and rush off to find a path, will you? We lose a lot of people that way. At least take the time to learn the way things are around here.”
“Sure. I’m not stupid. But we will be leaving as soon as we can.”
“Good luck.”
…
There were a dozen grand dinners, balls, and galas on the night before departure. Only one counted, of course: the one thrown by Anshun’s First Speaker, which was attended by Vice President Elaine Doi, Nigel Sheldon with three current wives from his harem, Rafael Columbia, Senator Thompson Burnelli, Brewster Kumar, and a dozen other notables from the Commonwealth’s political ruling classes. And that, sadly, was the one which Captain Wilson Kime also had to attend. His car drove him through no less than three security checks, including a deep scan, on his way into the government’s Regency Palace, which served as the First Speaker’s official residence at the heart of Treloar. The sun was just setting as he and Anna drew up outside the massive stone portico. They were greeted by two human servants in long frock coats covered in gold brocade. The senior one bowed deeply. “Welcome, Captain. The First Speaker is receiving her guests in the Livingstone Room. Please go straight in.”