A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [12]
“I am exploring the potential of our quilltrees, Prime Designate. It is a human technique called bonsai. A way of compressing a plant to turn its biological efforts inward, yet enhancing its beauty. I began growing this one a year ago when I first filed my application to mate with you. It has required a great deal of attention, but I am satisfied with the results.”
Jora’h did not have to pretend his enjoyment. “I have nothing like it. I will keep it in a special place…but you must instruct me on how to care for it.”
Sai’f smiled at him, relieved and thrilled to see his obvious pleasure. He set the bonsai quilltree on a translucent shelf on the wall, then came forward to her, opening his tunic to reveal his broad chest. “Now allow me to give you a present in return, Sai’f.”
She had been tested by his staff before she’d entered the PrismPalace. All women who came to him were certified fertile and receptive. Such tests did not guarantee that he would impregnate every lover, but the odds were good.
Sai’f disrobed, and Jora’h admired her. Each Ildiran kith had a different bodily configuration. Some were willowy and ethereal, others squat and muscular, angular and sinewy, or plump and soft. But the Prime Designate saw beauty in all kiths. While some were more lovely to him than others, he never played favorites, never insulted the volunteers or showed any disappointment.
Sai’f reacted to his caresses as if she were following a program or a suggested procedure. As a scientist, she had probably studied the variations of sex like a scholar, attempting to become an expert so that she could excel in her encounter with him. Right now, Jora’h felt as if he were doing the same for her, following a program, a familiar task like any other.
As he thought of the fascinating bonsai tree Sai’f had brought him, Jora’h could not help but recall Nira. And his heart ached with the old sadness for the lovely green priest. It had been five years since he’d last seen her.
Nira’s innocence and exotic beauty had charmed him more than any adoring Ildiran female ever had. When she’d first arrived in Mijistra, her wide-eyed wonder at the architecture and museums and fountains had made him look at his own city with fresh eyes. Her innocent excitement in Ildiran accomplishments had made him feel more pride in his heritage than the most stirring passages from the Saga of Seven Suns.
After shy months of enjoying each other’s company, when they’d finally made love for the first time, it had seemed entirely natural. The warm familiarity that grew into a bond with Nira was unlike anything the Prime Designate had ever experienced before. His relationship with her had been entirely separate from these routine matings scheduled by his assistants. Jora’h and Nira had spent many afternoons delighting in each other’s company, knowing the relationship must eventually end, but enjoying each day. And the Prime Designate had kept calling her back to him.
But at the beginning of the hydrogue crisis, when Jora’h had gone to visit Prince Reynald on Theroc, Nira and her mentor, Otema, had been tragically killed in a fire in the greenhouse that held the gift of worldtrees from Theroc. According to the Mage-Imperator’s report, the two visiting green priests had rushed in to save their treelings and had perished in the blaze.
Long ago, sweet Nira had come to the PrismPalace bearing potted treelings, small offshoots of the worldforest. Now, years after her death, the woman Sai’f had brought Jora’h a bonsai tree, and the memories all came flooding back to him…
Jora’h refocused his attention on the scientist woman. He did not want her to note his troubled thoughts, or to leave dissatisfied. He made love to her with an intensity that, for a while at least, drove back the ache of memories.
Jora’h requested an audience with his father. The Mage-Imperator’s bright eyes were set within folds of fat, and his plump lips smiled when he