A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [69]
Hyrillka resided in a double-star system, one of many binaries and trinaries inside the glittering tiara of the Horizon Cluster. The large blue-white primary lit the sky during Hyrillka’s long days, while the orange secondary drove back the night enough that Ildirans need never fear the dark. Drawn by the planet’s temperate weather and verdant beauty, Ildirans had developed Hyrillka into an opulent, peaceful world.
Kori’nh brought his seven warliners down into the plaza spaceport, an area paved with hexagonal heat tiles arranged in a complex mosaic so that descending ships could see Hyrillka’s beauty. Cheering crowds waved reflectorized pennants to welcome the septa.
Observing from the command nucleus, Jora’h frowned down at the spectacle. “I told Rusa’h this was an unofficial visit. I asked him not to draw attention to my arrival.”
Kori’nh looked over at him with a wry smile. “You are the Prime Designate coming to take your son away. How could the Hyrillka Designate resist such an opportunity?”
On the ground, Designate Rusa’h sent a parade of colorfully robed escorts, rememberers, dancers, and singers to receive the visitors. Side by side, Jora’h and the Adar disembarked, while the people continued to cheer. The Prime Designate’s gold-chain hair flickered about his head like a corona, and his star-sapphire eyes caught the light of Hyrillka’s bright blue-white sun.
Kori’nh ordered his trained honor guard to march down the ramps in a precise clockwork formation. The stream of soldiers struggled to maintain order as they encountered the swirling performers on the landing grid.
Trying to keep the stern tone out of his voice, Jora’h greeted his brother. “This unexpectedly fine reception was unnecessary, Rusa’h.”
The Hyrillka Designate noticed no criticism in the Prime Designate’s tone. “This is just the beginning!” He sported a bright smile and a vapid expression on his chubby face. With casual familiarity, he clapped his brother’s shoulder. “I cannot begin to list the banquets we have prepared, the presentations, and the performances. We have a historian who rivals even Vao’sh back at the PrismPalace. I have installed a new gallery of dancing fountains. You will be amazed.”
He leaned closer. “And I have personally inspected my favorite pleasure mates to determine which ones are the most fertile. Hyrillka would be honored to have another of the Prime Designate’s bloodline among our populace.”
The ache in Jora’h‘s heart from the knowledge of his father’s weakening medical condition diminished his joy and dampened all desire for entertainment. “You do too much for me, brother. We will make appropriate appearances, and perhaps Adar Kori’nh can stage a brief display of his septa’s prowess.” Jora’h fixed his eyes on his own son—how young the boy looked!—who waited behind the Hyrillka Designate, as if intimidated. “But for now Thor’h and I have important business.”
The young man bowed, though it was more like a flinch. “My uncle told me, Father.”
Rusa’h chuckled. “Ah, the difficulties of being the Prime Designate. I am glad that I wasn’t the firstborn!”
Thor’h had an intense, fidgety demeanor. His long hair was intricately coiffed, adorned with tiny gems like the residue of a dewy breath. Colorful clothes hung loosely on his shoulders, and Jora’h wondered just how skeletal his son was. It seemed a strange contrast to Rusa’h‘s pudginess. Both men ate well and relaxed often, but Thor’h probably indulged in shiing and other pleasure drugs, while the Designate simply preferred to eat and sleep. Hyrillka was particularly known for the production of shiing, a stimulant distilled from the milky bloodsap of nialia plantmoths.
Was I like this when I was young? Jora’h wondered.
As an odd side effect of shiing, his son’s image in the thism was muddied. Although the Prime Designate could sense Thor’h if he concentrated,