It was, of course, securely locked.
The Empress Hailie would be at the ball, as would her stepson the Emperor. First there would be the dancing and the entertainments, and then the Imperial House would go out to the grand balcony for the people and the vids.
Outside in the Imperial city the revelry was noisy and cheerful, with music and dancing, fireworks and the drinking of loyal toasts. It wouldn't even pause until the Emperor and his retinue appeared on the stroke of midnight on the grand balcony, to accept the adulation of his people.
Inside the grand ballroom the royal orchestra played ancient music on traditional instruments—very badly, to the captain's ear. It didn't matter much, as the masked courtiers weren't letting appreciation of it spoil their cultivated languid boredom or their gossip.
"How is Vezzarn doing with that lock?"
Captain Pausert was living in mortal fear that he might have to dance. The pin-striped kilt and wooden shoes might be traditional dress on Slalonica, but as far as the captain was concerned, they made him feel very foolish. Not to mention clumsy.
"Fine. He said another five minutes," said a stilt dancer from Kota. She was a pretty little blonde with gray eyes.
"That's what he said five minutes ago," grumbled Pausert.
"Well, it still looks like you won't actually have to dance, Captain." Goth was dressed up in the red and green paint of the Mardaban fire-eaters. "I've got your evening-dress 'ported into the changing rooms, and a lovely mask."
Captain Pausert was going to accompany Hantis, who'd be wearing her fabulously expensive tozzami fur coat, lelaundel tippet, and a gorgeous beaked mask. The captain's costume, especially his own mask, was designed to match. The mask had jewels on it. Lots of them, and the captain didn't think any were fake. He decided not to ask where the jewels had come from. There'd be time enough later for his stern lectures on property and moral probity.
"Has anyone got the Empress picked out yet?" he asked.
"We think she's the one in the gold lame with the feathers," said Hulik. "But that's the whole point of the masked ball, Captain. The idea is to let the Imperial House mingle with their courtiers."
"Stupid," grumbled Pul. "You can tell who anyone is by smell anyway. And that lot reek of Nanite. I'll tell you soon enough which one is the Empress. I was given her scarf to sniff, once."
"It's open," said the small spacer.
Lots of dream candy out there, said a little silver-eyed menace, suddenly.
Don't cause trouble now. Please, begged the captain hastily. Why did this vatch have to keep coming back?
"Let's go, Captain," said Hantis. He offered the Sprite his arm and she rested one elegant gloved hand on it. Pul had been decorated as much as possible to make the grik-dog appear to be a pampered lady's toy, not even to be left behind at a social occasion. The grik-dog looked more sour than usual about the pink bows and the jewel-encrusted leash.
They slipped out and were soon weaving their way between the Emperor's guests. The masked dancers were subjected to Pul's nasal enquiry. The feathered gold lame, likewise. None of them were the person they were looking for.
At length they came to a small woman with a simply cut azure silk gown and a butterfly mask sitting quietly in an alcove. A couple of other guests lounged around nearby. Considerably bulkier ones.
Pul nodded and tugged at his leash. One of the two large men got up, ever so unobtrusively. Pausert knew then that they had the right person. "Your Imperial Highness," said Hantis quietly. "I have been sent to you by our mutual friends, of the house Serrak."
"Lady Hantis of Aloorn, I assume," said the woman in the butterfly mask. "It's all right, Jaime. These are our last remaining friends. Although, I think they have come too late. In a few minutes I will have to take my place on the dais with my stepson . . . or the thing that is pretending to be my stepson. And then the Nanites will have me at last."
"You know about the Nanites, Your Highness?" asked Pausert, puzzled.
She gave a low, sad laugh. "Why do you think I sent word to Karres that I needed help?"
"Oh." The captain felt rather stupid. "I wasn't told all the facts, ma'am."
She laughed again. "That old 'need to know' business. I wonder how many more disasters occur than are avoided, by keeping agents in the dark? I realize that Karres is in strict quarantine, but I have been hoping for rescue by witches coming thrumming down the Egger Route. But according to the last communication I had the only hope they had been able to come up with for the Empire was one 'Captain Pausert' and a companion by the name of 'Goth.' Their best premotors all agreed on that. They also agreed on there being a very low probability of success—less than a one in five chance that he would get here. But if he did, that he would have discovered how to deal with the plague. I don't suppose your companion would be Captain Pausert, Lady Hantis?"
"Er, yes," said the captain uncomfortably. "I am Captain Pausert, Your Highness. And Goth is with me."
He bowed. Now that he thought about it, it was all rather obvious. The witches could, if they'd wanted to, have reached the Empress via the Egger Route. Pul was indeed effective against Nanites . . . but there was a limited amount of venom in one grik-dog. And the Empress hadn't needed Hantis to tell her about the Nanites.
The Empress inclined her head at him. "And have you worked out how to deal with the Nanites, Captain?"
A number of pieces fell into place in the puzzle in Pausert's head. The mission hadn't been about Hantis and Pul, after all. It had been about Goth and himself.
"Then this was all a teaching device?" he demanded of Hantis.
"Say rather a learning device," she replied. "Threbus detected unusual klatha skills in you when he ran the tests. You affect adult witches enormously with your klatha gathering, but you don't appear to affect nonhumans or children—which is the reason I was sent on this mission as your minder. You are a klatha-force lighthouse, Captain. The best premotors on Karres worked on you—and found that you obscured their results. When fate said that you had to die . . . you changed the rules. They tried various future models. The predictors always came up with the same answer: allow him certain factors and allow him to evolve. Then they worked on what the best factors would be. Do not imagine that any of your companions are here by accident."
"Huh. They could have told us," said a voice close to his ear.
The Empress and her bodyguards jumped only slightly more than the captain. "Goth," he muttered. "I should have guessed. No-shape. And where is the Leewit?"
"The servant with the canapes," said Goth. "We couldn't let you out on your own, Captain."
The Empress' shoulders shook slightly. "Well, Captain, it appears that you inspire loyalty and great faith. So: Have you the answer we need? In less than twenty minutes I will need to take my seat among the Imperial House, who are, we believe, Nanite-invaded to the last person. If I fail to do so, I will undoubtedly be stripped of Amra's Regency. My influence and my daughter will disappear, and the Empire will slowly be devoured by the Nanites. Eventually, all humanity as well."