The whitewood doors opened majestically. In the bright rectangle stood eight Honor Guards, of eight bipedal species, carrying Dushaun gold-and-white banners bearing the Oliat device, crossed wands balanced on the tip of an arrow at the point where they intersected.
The Lehiroh who seemed to be their leader saw her red and black, frowned in offense, and asked Jindigar, "What is the Zavarrone doing among you? It is not permitted to..."
Jindigar interrupted. "She's not of us, but is essential to our well-being."
The escort glanced over his shoulder, then hissed, "Let her meet you at your seats, not march in the formation!"
She was about to step out of place when Jindigar grabbed a floor-length white cloak from the rack. It had a fully enveloping hood. He whisked it about her shoulders, flipping the hood up. Then he returned to his place. "The Oliat is an integrated team, serving the Emperor. We will not be separated, nor will we keep The August Personage waiting."
As one, the Dushau started forward. Krinata, out of step from the first, did her best to keep from tripping on the long Dushau cloak. A part of her wished she could relax and soak up every bit of this, to enrich future dreams. But she felt ridiculous, conspicuous, and wholly out of place. Her Ceremonial instructor had once told her, Believe what you're doing is significant, and it will be. As they inserted their formation among the eight Honor Guards, she tried to believe she was a Receptor of this proud Oliat, worthy of this Imperial Honor.
They emerged into the bright afternoon sunlight, diffused by the force-field dome overhead, and were inspected by the massed thousands of the Court. They slow-marched across the chamber, turned in the wide center aisle, made obeisance, and advanced toward the throne, all to the beat of the Dushaun anthem—slow, infinitely patient, fraught with eternity. Indigo music.
She'd never been this close to the throne before. The solid gold throne carved with the insignias of all the Allegiancy species filled her view. Beside it, only slightly less spectacular, was the Imperial Consort's throne, vacant now since Rantan, as a Lehiroh, didn't marry. To either side, other functionaries were seated or posted in ostentatious splendor.
Rantan Lord Zinzik himself was a short, middle-aged but trim Lehiroh, dressed in the imperial green, loaded down with badges and honors. For an instant, his careless cruelty to the Oliat was wiped away by the upwelling magic of the vision before her: Emperor of the Allied Species. Rantan, whatever he might be personally, had become the living symbol of the Empire and all that was good in their lives. She saw him as one fighting bravely and imaginatively for their survival. Tears
came to her eyes as she marched amid the ghosts of her famous ancestors and all they'd sacrificed for the Allegiancy's peace and prosperity.
She blinked away the sudden tears. When the Oliat came to the foot of the stairs, she surprised herself with the smoothness of her deep obeisance, for the first time expressing, in the movement of her body, the emotions she felt for the Allegiancy Empire, the first galactic civilization granting full rights to all species. She treasured the Allegiancy and served it with all her heart.
The Oliat held the kneeling posture while Jindigar rose and answered the Emperor's formal inquiries. Then, at Zinzik's bidding, they all rose and were escorted to chairs set on a lower dais, the banners planted in holders all about them. It was the routine she had seen at dozens of these ceremonies, yet when Jindigar sat beside her, he whispered, without turning his head, "Does Rantan follow all the old protocol exactly?"
"He's fanatic about it," she answered, also facing front and trying to speak without moving her lips.
"Then something is dreadfully wrong." He folded his arms about a bulge in his lap. His surplice stirred and a furry head poked out mewling. He petted the piol as if everyone carried an animal when being presented to the Emperor. But his eyes roved the audience, measuring. "Where is the Dushaun delegation?"
She found their usual place, high on a side balcony, and saw empty seats. "Rantan's going to be furious. I hope he doesn't blame you that they didn't come."
"They'd be here if summoned. And did you notice the odd stirring among the Lehiroh and the Holot we passed?"
"No, but then I'm not Oliat."
"We're not either. We're shimmering on the brink of Dissolution. Krinata, it could be our perception is entirely warped, but we feel unwelcome, distrusted. Only by some. Others seem unaware. But the Emperor holds us in disfavor."
He knew that from exchanging a few formal phrases? ~1 didn't see anything like that. Relax, it'll be all right."
The same Honor Guard now escorted a Cassrian into the Audience from the opposite side. She wore only enough clothing to carry the badges and orders she'd earned. Her dark exoskeleton was painted in gilt swirls meaningful to Cassrians, and her wasp waist was adorned with jeweled ropes.
After being presented to the Emperor, she was seated on a higher step of the dais than the Oliat. After that, a Holot and a Lehiroh woman were presented. Then two Binwons were rolled in, their water-environment tanks taking up the position just below the Dushau. They stank, but Krinata refrained from remarking on it.
Then the Honors presentations began. The Oliat was called first. As they stood to be escorted before the throne, Jindigar said, "I told you something was very wrong. If he knows what he's doing, he's insulting Dushaun by this."
In protocol, the orders of things sometimes mattered more than the thing. "I doubt if many people will notice," she whispered. "I wouldn't have." This is all so new to everyone, Rantan's just made some subtle mistake, that's all. Imagine what it's like to be Emperor and publicly embarrass yourself!
"We do hope there's nothing to notice," muttered Jindigar.
With a little shock, she noted how he slipped between the personal and the Oliat-combined pronoun, betraying just how much distress the Oliat was in.
Then– escort placed them on the level just below the throne, a wide step barely big enough for them, and again Jindigar stood while they knelt. She peeked up between the folds of her hood and caught Zinzik's shocked recognition of her non-Dushauni face. But he was too caught up in his own dedication to ceremony to make any outward sign.
He recited the standard Planet Discovery Citation, and then presented Jindigar with six jewel-encrusted leptolizers with second rank clearance that accessed almost unlimited credit at any terminal, opened almost any door, and gave priority over eighty percent of the citizens of the Allegiancy. Jindigar made a gracious speech of acceptance and then distributed the leptolizers, keeping Fedeewarn's.
Zinzik, meanwhile, had noticed the piol snuffling out of the neck of Jindigar's surplice, but his only comment was the slight widening of one eye. As the ceremony finished, the amplifiers were turned off and Zinzik said to Jindigar, "We expect you in Our private chambers immediately after We dismiss these proceedings."
Jindigar bowed. "Excellency, one of us is gravely ill."
"We claim a small amount of your time. But the Oliat only, not the human."
Jindigar bowed lower still, then rose tall to look Zinzik directly in the eye as he said, "The mercy of the Allegiancy Emperor has been renowned throughout the centuries. He would not deprive the crippled of their crutch, the sick of their medicine, the fearful of their security. The Zavaronne..."
Zinzik interrupted, his manner suddenly modern. "Nicely maneuvered, Prince Jindigar. History warned me of you. Very well, you will all present yourselves in my private chambers immediately upon leaving here."