I felt Cyanide approach. It was time to put on a show for the viewers many light years away.
“Your date is here, Letero.”
The doors in the far wall opened, revealing Tony and Cyanide walking side by side. The big, white cat saw the winter outside, opened her blue mouth, and panted once. I didn’t know enough about the Higgra to interpret that.
“Greetings, candidate Cyanide,” Kosandion said.
“Greetings, Sovereign of the Dominion.”
Tony retreated and shut the door behind him.
Cyanide padded to the fire. I had made her a long, ergonomic version of a cushioned chaise lounge, large enough for her to stretch out. Kosandion got a comfortable stuffed chair. I had put a couple of small tables here and there, but I kept it simple.
Cyanide examined the lounge and looked at me. “Sit here.”
I glanced at Kosandion. He frowned.
I sat on the edge of the lounge. Cyanide leaped onto it and flopped herself on my lap, all two hundred and fifty pounds of her.
Ow.
Big golden eyes stared at me. “I require attentions,” Cyanide announced. “All of them.”
Kosandion raised his eyebrows.
“And the brush,” Cyanide said.
Whatever made this date go smoothly.
I reached out, and Gertrude Hunt pulled one of the brushes from the stables. They were soft with dense bristles, originally designed for the beasts of burden the Merchants sometimes brought with them, and I had sterilized them after each use. The brush landed in my hand, and I began working through Cyanide’s fur. Her eyes widened, flashing dangerous gold, then half closed, and she turned her head, presenting me with the corner of her jaw. Just like Olasard. Except he barely weighed seventeen pounds. If this went on for too much longer, my legs would go numb.
Silence ensued.
Cyanide made a soft rumble in her throat. It was too deep to be a purr and not violent enough to be a roar, more like an internal contented cough.
“Do you wish to tell me of your planet?” Kosandion asked.
“No.”
Well, this was going swimmingly.
He tried again. “What would you rather talk about instead?”
Cyanide turned over on her back, her fuzzy paws level with my face. I glided the brush along her chest. Long claws shot out of her paws and withdrew.
“If I marry you, can I bring this human with me to serve me?”
“No,” Kosandion said.
“A pity.”
Cyanide made her coughing noise again.
More silence. Kosandion really needed an image boost, and his spousal candidate was flat-out ignoring him. How to salvage this…
Kosandion pulled out a small gadget, squeezed it, and it projected a tablet in front of him. He began scrolling through the documents.
A minute passed. Another.
What was going on?
“You should tell her about our arrangement,” Cyanide said, stretching to get a better brushing angle. “Or she won’t focus on attentions.”
“Is that wise?” I asked.
“This date isn’t broadcast live,” Kosandion told me, still absorbed in whatever he was reading. “Highlights only.”
“I thought all dates were live like Ellenda’s.”
Kosandion put the tablet device on the side table.
“Ellenda didn’t do well in the voting, but her presence guaranteed high ratings,” he said. “My mother was a mysterious, inscrutable figure for most of her stay in the Dominion. She spent twenty-two years there, and by the time she returned to her planet, most people knew just as little about her as they did when she first arrived. For the Dominion’s citizens, Ellenda was a chance to get a better understanding of the Uma, my mother, and my heritage. The Higgra do not generate the same level of interest.”
I thought that the spouse had to stay for a period of 25 years… Oh. Kosandion was twenty-one when his father died. His mother must’ve left when he ascended the throne. Was it voluntary? Did she want to go home?
“I do not care about the Dominion’s interest,” Cyanide rumbled.
“What do you care about?” I asked.
“The neural nets,” Cyanide said. “And Clan Sai.”
Clan Sai, the Merchants who claimed the Dominion as their territory. This was getting convoluted. Officially, the Merchants had no territories, and many of them competed for the best trade partners, trying to outbid each other. But they always strived for a monopoly, and once a Merchant Clan grasped a region in its claws, it was difficult to shake them loose. According to Cookie, a century ago, Clan Sai managed to push out the other three Merchant Clans vying for the Dominion, and they had been highly protective of it ever since.
“What’s a neural net?” I asked.
“There is a special plant that grows on our planet,” Cyanide said. “A fur lichen den, formed by the long tendrils of the fur lichen plant colony. Many organisms coexist within the fur lichen, some microscopic and others large enough to be visible by even a human eye. The Fuzzy Worms feed on the many creatures of the fur lichen den and craft their webs within it. We harvest the webs and weave them into neural nets with our tools and claws.”
“The neural nets are the best solution for regeneration of the nervous system,” Kosandion said. “Once they’re implanted, the healing is miraculous. People whose paralysis resisted every other treatment regain the use of their limbs within days. Transplants, nanotherapy, artificial neurons, nothing else comes close.”
“We want to sell them to the Dominion,” Cyanide said. “But the Sai are blocking our way.”
“The Sai have moved a ship into the orbit of the Higgra planet,” Kosandion explained. “They’re pressuring the Higgra to use them as intermediaries for the sale. The Higgra have applied for a direct trade agreement with the Dominion; however, Clan Sai indicated that they are not above using their other trade agreements as leverage.”
“If you buy directly from the Higgra, the Merchants will pitch a fit and stop supplying you with other goods?” I guessed.
“Precisely,” Kosandion said. “According to the federal guidelines, a thorough review of the potential impact must be conducted by the Commerce Department, which could take years.”
“So, you’re cutting out the middleman and the bureaucracy by using the Higgra’s minor ask.” I brushed Cyanide’s throat.
“Yes.” Kosandion smiled. It was a sharp and cold smile. “I don’t react well to blackmail.”
A lot of things suddenly made sense. I kept brushing. Cyanide rumbled, her eyes closed. In the fireplace a log popped, sending sparks into the flue.
“If Clan Sai suddenly canceled their trade deals, it would put the Dominion’s economy into a difficult position,” I said. “If only there were another Merchant clan willing to step into the gap. Someone with a lot of resources, able to react to the situation quickly. Someone who might have sent a representative to observe this spousal selection.”
Kosandion chuckled. “By the end of this affair, we will make you into a proper Dominion politician, Dina. Let me know if you ever consider a career change.”
“No thank you,” I told him. “I’m happy right here, doing what I do now.”
Cyanide rumbled and turned on her side. Kosandion picked up the tablet and resumed his reading.
Outside the snow began to fall, fat fluffy snowflakes drifting softly to the ground. For the next half hour, I brushed the big cat and watched the snow, while the Sovereign caught up on his paperwork.
Tony ambushed me as soon as the Higgra’s date was over.
“Dad wants to talk to you.” He thrust the phone at me.
My heart made a pirouette. Most innkeepers avoided personal phone calls. Even getting a phone number of an innkeeper was a sign of trust, and it was understood that direct communication was only for emergencies. What was bad enough for him to call me?