like a lake that looks small until one is swimming in its
center.
From this central nexus the spokes of Cugluch radiated
outward toward farmland and swamp. The city was far larger
than Polastrindu, especially when one considered that much
of it was hidden underground.
Thick mist clung to the crests of the seven towers and
completely obscured the central one. Nowhere did they see a
flag, a banner, any splash of color or gaiety. It was a somber
capital, dedicated to a somber purpose.
And the massive palace was especially dark and forebod-
ing. Here at least Jen-Tom had expected some hint of bright-
ness. Militaristic cultures were historically fond of pomp and
flash. The palace of the Empress, however, was as dull as the
warrens of the citizen-workers. Different in design but not
demeanor, he decided.
The lowest level of the circular pyramid was several stories
high. It was fashioned, as the entire palace complex no doubt
was, of close-fitting stone mortared over with a gray cement
or plaster. Water dripped down its curves to vanish into
gutters and drains lining the base. There was a minimum of
windows.
The triangular paving of the square ceased some fifteen
yards from the base of the palace. In its place was a smooth
surface of black cement. That was all; no fence, no hidden
alarms, no hedgerows or ditches. But on that black fifteen
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THE HOUR Or THE GATE
yards, which encircled the entire palace, nothing moved save
the stiffly pacing guards.
They formed a solid ring, ten yards from the palace wall,
five yards apart. They marched in slow tread from left to
right, keeping the same distance between them like so many
wind-up toys. As near as Jon-Tom could tell they ringed the
entire palace, a moving chain of guards that never stopped.
At Clothahump's urging they turned southward. The guards
never looked in their direction, though Jon-Tom was willing
to wager that if so much as a foot touched that black cement,
the trespasser would suddenly find himself the object of
considerable hostile attention.
Eventually they stood opposite an arched triangular portal cut
from the flank of the palace. The entryway was three stories
high. At present its massive iron gates were thrown wide. A
line of armed beetles extended from either open gate out
across the cement to the edge of the paving. The unbroken
ring of encircling guards passed through this intercepting line
with precision. The moving guards never touched any of the
stationary ones.
"Now wot, guv'nor?" Mudge whispered to the wizard.
"Do we just walk up t' the nearest bugger an' ask 'im
polite-like if the Empress be at 'ome an' might we 'ave 'is
leave t' skip on in t' see the old dear?"
"I have no desire to see her," Clothahump replied. "It is
Eejakrat we are after. Rules survive by relying on the brains
of their advisors. Remove Eejakrat, or at least his magic, and
we leave the Empress without the most important part of her
collective mind."
He gazed thoughtfully at Caz. "You have laid claim to a
working knowledge of diplomacy, my boy, and have shown an
aptitude for such in the past. I am reluctant to perform a spell
among so many onlookers and so near to Eejakrat's influence.
I've no doubt he has placed alarm spells all about the palace.
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Alan Dean Foster
They would react to my magicking, but not to your words.
We must get inside. I suggest you employ your talent for
extemporaneous and convincing conversation."
"I don't know, sir," replied the rabbit uncertainly. "It's
easy to convince people you're familiar with. I don't know
how to talk to these."
"Nonsense. You did well with that curious woodcutter
whom we encountered during our descent. If anything, the
minds you are about to deal with are simpler than those you
are more familiar with. Consider their society, which rewards
conformity while condemning individuality."
"If you want me to, sir, I'll give it a try."
"Good. The rest of you form behind us. Pog, you stay
airborne and warn us if there is sudden movement from armed
troops in our direction."
"What does it matter?" said the sorrowful bat from inside
his disguise. "We'll all be dead inside an hour anyway." But
he spiraled higher and did as he was told, keeping a watchful
eye on the guards and any group of pedestrians who came
near.
Following Caz and Clothahump, me travelers made their
way toward the entrance. There was an anxious moment
when they stepped from paving to cement, but no one
challenged them. The guards flanking the approach kept their
attention on a point a few inches in front of their mandibles.
Then it was through the encircling ring, which likewise did
not react. They were a couple of yards from the entrance.
Jon-Tom had the wild notion that they might simply be able
to march on into the palace when a massive beetle slightly
taller but much broader than Caz lumbered out of the shadows
to confront them. He was flanked by a pair of pale, three-
foot-high attendants of the mutated mayfly persuasion. One of
them carried a large scroll and a marking instrument. The
other simply stood and listened.
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"State your business, citizens," demanded the glowering
hulk in the middle. He reminded Jon-Tom of a gladiator ready
to enter the arena, and pity be on the lions. The extra set of
arms ruined the illusion.
With the facility of an established survivor, Caz replied
without hesitation. "Hail, citizen! We have special, urgently
requested information for the sorcerer Eejakrat, information
that is vital to our coming success." Not knowing how to
properly conclude the request he added blandly, "Where can
we find him?"
Their interrogator did not reply immediately. Jon-Tom
wondered if his nervousness showed.
After a brief conversation with the burdenless mayfly the
beetle gestured backward with two hands. "Third level,
Chamber Three Fifty-Five and adjuncts."
Politely, he stepped aside.
Caz led them in. They walked down a short hallway. It
opened into a hall that seemed to run parallel to the circular
shape of the building. Another, similar hall could be seen
further ahead. Evidently there was a single point from which
the palace and thence the entire city of Cugluch radiated in
concentric circles, with hallways or streets forming intersecting
spokes.
Jon-Tom leaned over and whispered to Clothahump. "I
don't know how you feel, sir, but to me that was much too
easy."
"Why shouldn't it have been?" said Talea, feeling cocky
at their success thus far. "It was just like crossing the square
outside."
"Precisely, my dear," said Clothahump proudly. "Yousee,
Jon-Tom, they are so well ordered they cannot imagine
anyone stepping out of class or position. They cannot conceive,
as that threatening individual who confronted us outside
cannot, that any of their fellows would have the presumption
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to lie to gain an audience with so feared a personality as
Eejakrat. If we did not deserve such a meeting, we would not
be asking for it.
"Furthermore, spies are unknown in Cugluch. They have
no reason to suspect any, and traitorous actions are as alien to
the Plated Folk as snow. This may be possible after all, my
friends. We need only maintain the pretext that we know what
we are doing and have a right to be doing it."