Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [14]
There was much yellow at the opposite side of the courtyard, facing Picard. A long dais, draped in golden silk, had been erected at the top of another flight of marble steps. Huge jade dragons mounted on marble pedestals flanked the dais; the dragons had been carved rearing up on their hind legs, their forelimbs reaching out to claw the smoky air. Glancing upward, Picard saw, above the golden rooftops of the surrounding towers, the Dragon Nebula itself: a wisp of violet mist speckled with stars. Picard looked again at the dais, where four men sat awaiting him. Even across the impressive length of the courtyard, he could see that three of the men wore robes of yellow.
A servant, his dark plait of hair trailing down his back, led Data, Troi, and Beverly away. Picard watched as the women and the android were guided along a gallery to his right, beneath the overhanging eave of the eastern tower. Soon they disappeared into the shadows behind one of the huge jade dragons.
Mu clapped his hands loudly, and the music came to a sudden stop. Clutching their instruments, which included a harp and two flutes, the musicians scurried out of sight, leaving the center of the courtyard unoccupied. “Please,” the chamberlain said with yet another bow, “follow me.” Head bowed, he walked down the steps and into the courtyard. Picard and Riker marched a few steps behind him.
As they passed by the seated guests, each mandarin and soldier would bow until his head rested on the table before him. “Extraordinarily flexible, it seems,” Picard whispered to Riker, “despite all the robes.”
“Perhaps,” Riker speculated, “the fanciness of the robes indicates the status of the wearer. If so, these are all highly esteemed gentlemen.”
Picard looked at Riker, his only ornaments the tiny pips on his dress uniform’s collar. “I trust they will not think us the least popular men in the Federation.”
Less than a yard away from the foot of the dais, Mu suddenly dropped to floor, lying flat on his belly atop the polished bricks. Picard hoped he and Riker were not expected to abase themselves in the same way. For the moment, he chose to remain standing before the dais.
In a voice surprisingly loud for one whose face was pressed against the floor, the chamberlain said, “Most excellent and exalted Dragon, most estimable Heir and estimable Second Son, honorable Lord Lu Tung, allow this insignificant one to introduce to you His Excellence Lord Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise, the honorable Lord Commander William Riker. And other, er, officers,” he finished vaguely and gestured in the general direction of the jade dragon. Glancing over, Picard saw Beverly and the others being seated at a small table lurking inconspicuously in the shadow beneath a gilded rooftop. Caught by the sudden swivel of heads in their direction, Beverly brought up her fan to conceal her face while Troi visibly struggled to sit down without tripping over her robes. Data, unflappable as ever, bowed to the assembled guests before sitting.
Every head in the courtyard slowly swiveled back to regard Picard and Riker. “Lord Captain, Lord Commander,” the chamberlain continued his introductions, “His Excellent and Exalted Majesty, the Dragon Emperor of the Dragon Nebula and Environs. Chuan-chi, the estimable First Son and Heir to the Dragon Empire and Keeper of the Throne Planet of Pai. Kan-hi, the also estimable Second Son. The honorable Lord Governor General Lu Tung.”
“Bring them forward,” a voice from the dais said imperiously. Picard easily identified the Dragon by both his age and the extravagance of his robes. The ruler of the Dragon Empire was, like his vizier, a small round man. A full beard, white as snow, partially concealed a face that fell easily into laugh lines. “Now, Mu!” he added in a much sharper tone; his visage fell as easily into a horrible scowl. Swaddled in heavy robes of yellow silk, embroidered with gold and silver thread, the Dragon resembled a gilt statue of a dissolute and irritable Buddha.
The chamberlain lifted