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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Lady Sisree was thrilled by the preview performance Hunding's drill team put on for her. She expressed amazement and wonder at the way the team moved their feet, especially when they waved their flags while doing it.

"It's wonderful!" Sisree said. "The queens will be so proud of all of you!" she told the team, the position of her pedipalps making her delight obvious.

Hunding was certain that she could see the males preen. Of course for Fibians seeing a female in the flesh, so to speak, was an event to remember.

"Thank you, on behalf of the team, Lady Sisree," Hunding said with diginity.

The lady tilted her great head and looked at the young human in mild surprise. It was impossible to be absolutely positive without asking, but she was almost certain that Hunding's attitude wished her away.

"I probably should leave you to work," the lady hazarded. Theoretically if it didn't matter one way or the other, then Hunding would invite her to stay.

"Oh, thank you, Lady Sisree," Hunding said with an unflattering enthusiasm. She leaned closer to the Fibian giantess. "I'm afraid the team couldn't help but be distracted by your presence and there's so much for them to learn by the welcoming ceremony."

Which was absolutely true, but still. Sisree hesitated.

"I can't begin to tell you how much your interest means to the whole team," Hunding said confidentially as she moved towards the door. "This is such a new thing here, and of course they're in it, and they really don't know how it looks. So your obvious enjoyment of their new skills is a tremendous boost." She tapped the control that opened the two massive doors. "I hope you'll be pleased with their complete performance."

Unseen by the human, Sisree's tail tip quivered with amusement at young Hunding's boldness. She was pleased that someone of such single-minded obsessiveness was involved in this project. It made her certain that it would be a notable event.

"Carry on," Sisree said with a gracious gesture. She cast one last, long look at the worshipful would-be drill team and withdrew.

* * *

"So," Hunding said, switching off the recording, "as you can all see you've got that routine down cold. Congratulations!" She clapped her hands and aimed her applause to encompass all of them.

There were more than a few tailwhip snaps and the room clattered to the gentle clicking of mandibles. The males weren't even divided up by color anymore; orange sat by green, by blue, by yellow, enjoying one another's company, their chitin clashing terribly.

"Now, there's one last thing you have to learn," Hunding told them. "And that's marching into the hall."

She clicked her handheld control and the lights dimmed, and a holo appeared showing a computer simulation of what Hunding had in mind.

"We'll keep it simple," she said. "You'll march in ranks of five, by color." On the screen yellow led orange, followed by green, blue and purple. "I've organized you to resemble a rainbow," Hunding explained.

She turned to her team with what now had to pass for a big grin since her surgery. Her face actually held a mildly pleasant expression. It faded as she saw that every Fibian had raised a pedipalp; some of them held both up.

"It's about the way the colors are organized, isn't it?" she said. Hunding felt a little discouraged, but she'd half expected it. "All right, what should we do?"

They told her, and they told her why. Blue had to be first because blue was the first clan. Green was the second clan, orange the third and so on.

"Okay," Hunding said reluctantly. "We'll do it your way."

Inside she was rather annoyed. Once she'd conceived a routine she rarely had to change it and she felt the ire of a thwarted artist. She froze the recording and reorganized the colors as they'd requested.

"But let's not have any more changes, okay?"

"Yes!" the Fibians shouted, as ordered.

"O-kay," Hunding said, "I've got a question. Can Fibians whistle?"

"Yes," the team said. There was a certain reserve in their answer, but Hunding didn't notice.

"Great!" she said. "I've got a piece of music I'd like you to hear."

She hit her control and the images on the screen were now moving to the "Colonel Bogey" march. She beat the time with her hand, enjoying the memory of marching and whistling herself in those golden high school days in Kansas. Hunding looked out over her new team as they stared intently at the hologram.

Boy, I am so not in Kansas anymore.

* * *

"Commander, Lieutenant Commander James is here to see you."

"Thank you, Semple. Would you ask her to wait a moment please."

Peter imagined Sarah's eyebrows going up at that. But he felt a need to at least pretend to some distance between them. It helped to keep him sane. Whenever he was in the same room with Lieutenant Commander James his instincts told him to sweep her into his arms and kiss her with mad, passionate abandon. His preference heartily agreed with his instincts. Unfortunately Space Command took a dim view of such goings-on while on duty. They hadn't been alone together for weeks.

He felt like he'd been on duty for years—long, lonely, desperately uncomfortable years. He thought of that last night at Camp Stick 'Em Together Again; the color of her hair in the moonlight, the sparkle of her eyes . . .

"You can send the lieutenant commander in now, Semple."

Peter leaned back in the Old Man's chair and smiled at the empty space that Sarah soon would fill.

"Did I come at a bad time, sir?" she asked as she bustled in and saluted.

"Not at all," he said, returning her salute. "That will be all, Semple," he said to the secretary, who hovered in the doorway. "Please be seated, Lieutenant Commander."

When the door had closed behind Knott's secretary they just sat and grinned at one another for a long, pleasant minute.

"Why do you keep calling Semple by name?" Sarah asked. "It's noticeably repetitious."

"Because I keep forgetting it. I forgot he was even out there for about three weeks; now I'm enjoying the experience of having a flunky." Raeder waggled his brows at her.

Sarah laughed.

"That flunky is the captain's secretary! You just keep reminding yourself of that or one day when the Old Man is back and you need to see him in a hurry you may find yourself cooling your heels in the outer office instead."

Peter flattened his hand against his heart and gazed at her wide-eyed.

"You have put the fear into me, my love. I shall remember to bring him roses on Secretary's Day, I swear I will."

She raised a brow, then grinned. He grinned back at her.

"So, why did you want to see me?" he asked.

"A leading question if ever I heard one," she snapped back. "Well, aside from the suspected reason, I've been thinking about the Fibians."

"And?" Raeder encouraged.

"And, it seems that Snargx is guilty of some very deviant behavior. I understand it's the newest of the clans and that they've only been in that quadrant of space for about fifty years. Is it possible that this behavior came about because of some brain-disturbing virus? Could Sna-Fe be a danger to Clan Nrgun?"

"It's a good enough possibility that I'll bring it up to the queen when next we speak," Peter said. "But I honestly doubt it. They're pretty astute scientifically, meaning I'm sure they gave our erstwhile passenger a good thorough going-over before they let him anywhere near their queen."

"Mmm. I'm just going from their reactions," Sarah explained, looking thoughtful. "A negative response that strong would seem to argue that this is unheard-of behavior."

Peter put his hand up and waggled it back and forth.

"It argues that they're very nice people," he said. "But we don't know anything about their history. They might react that badly at hearing this news because they thought they'd gotten away from behavior like that. I believe that some humans were just as repulsed when they heard the news. The fact is that most humans don't behave like the Mollies—and they most definitely don't behave the way they do because they've got a bug."

Sarah wrinkled her nose.

"No, they're sick, but they're deliberately, stubbornly, willfully sick. And there's no excuse for that." She sighed. "Do you ever worry that they won't like us once they know something about our history?"

"Yes," he said with a judicious nod. "But then, there's always Clan Snargx."

Sarah barked a laugh, then shook her head.

"I wonder if Lady Sisree and Queen Tewsee have had a conversation like this," she said.

"I wouldn't be at all surprised," Raeder agreed. "It's one of the things that makes me think human-Fibian relations have a chance. We've both got appallingly similar skeletons in the closet."

* * *

The evening of the gala welcoming ceremony was glorious, at least by Fibian standards. To the humans it was pleasantly cool, but unpleasantly humid.

The entire front of the palace was decorated with floral wreaths and lanterns that emitted pleasing scents. Pleasing to the Fibians, that is. The human guests could barely make out a scent at all.

Raeder, Sarah, Truon, Hunding, Sun-hes and the doctor disembarked from their transport right on the palace's front terrace.

Sarah took a long, deep sniff. "Just the barest hint of citronella," she pronounced, sounding a bit surprised.

"Pretty name," Peter said.

"On Earth it's used as a bug repellant," Goldberg informed him.

Raeder looked back at the doctor, his medicated face very bland.

"These people might have bug problems, too."

Sarah couldn't help but smile at that, which meant that the corners of her mouth lifted very slightly.

"Commander," Hunding said shyly. "I'm going to go gather up my drill team now, if you'll excuse me."

"Certainly, Hunding, you go ahead." Raeder watched the shining-faced young tech hurry off. "She looks happy," he said.

"Even with most of her face frozen," Truon agreed. "Maybe it's because she's young."

"Nah," Peter said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's because for a change she's in complete charge. Remember what that was like?"

Sarah's hazel eyes brightened a little with humor.

"Oh, yes," she agreed. "Heady stuff, indeed."

"There's Fuj-if," Sun-hes said, and gestured towards the second assistant where he stood on the terrace before the grand front entrance.

Fuj-if spotted them at almost the same moment and bustled up to them.

You ain't seen nothing till you've seen a Fibian bustle, Raeder thought. He wondered if he'd ever get used to the flowing gait of those multiple legs of theirs.

"Welcome, welcome humans!" the second assistant said effusively. His pedipalps were held in the second degree of respect, but with a sort of energy to the position that might have been interpreted as gladness to see them. "Her majesty is so looking forward to seeing this presentation that your subordinate has been preparing for us. Lady Sisree has been telling the other queens about you humans, and has, of course, distributed copies of the presentation you made for our own queen. So they also are looking forward to this evening's . . . drill, with enthusiasm."

Wow. No pressure or anything. Thank the powers that be that Hunding has already gone off to gather her team. He'd been amazed at the difference in personality that the shy little tech had shown when commanding her Fibian squad around the practice room. But this would be a really bad time to get hit by stage fright. 

"Thank you, Second Assistant," Raeder said, also with his hands in the second position.

Fuj-if clicked his mandibles at the sight and gestured towards the building behind him. "Allow me to lead you to your place within the gathering hall."

The second assistant turned and paced grandly away. Raeder and his crew looked at one another and, squaring their shoulders, paced grandly behind him.

The hall that Fuj-if led them to was an enormous web-wrapped cavern rapidly filling with a multicolored horde of Fibian soldiers and politicos. The conversational volume dipped for a moment when the small group of humans entered. Then it rose again to an even greater height.

Both Queen Tewsee and Lady Sisree would be here tonight, though they would stay at opposite ends of this mighty hall. Raeder figured you could stuff a corvette-sized craft in here. It would be tight, but not impossible.

The other queens would attend virtually from their spacecraft and enormous screens lined the walls so that they would be visible to their representatives and fellow queens. The webbing around the screens had been faintly tinted with their clan colors, as was the area around Tewsee and Sisree's couches.

Fuj-if led them to a place near the queen's couch.

"Her majesty has invited you to stay by her side," the second assistant said. His manner and his posture told them that this was a signal honor. "If you will excuse me, I have other guests to attend to."

Raeder and Sarah both graciously allowed that they would be able to entertain themselves in that spot as well as any other.

* * *

"Sim-ne, we must tell her!" Fan-le insisted. His distress was obvious and it was mirrored by the postures and pedipalp positions of the soldiers around him. "I really think that she suspects something is wrong, but she doesn't know what. We have to tell her."

Sim-ne looked at his second and indicated agreement with a flick of his gloved fingers.

"Very well," he said. "I will go out to the front gates and wait for her."

He wasn't terribly worried about the presentation; Hunding had run them through several pieces of alternate music choices in case they hadn't been able to master the whistling. Once she'd been satisfied that they were getting the "Colonel Bogey" march, however, she'd concentrated their energies there. What worried him was how he was going to tell her.

He'd kept expecting her to pick up on their dissatisfaction and humiliation as they tromped through the music. They all had. When they'd all stopped dead in shock as she'd whistled with them the first time he'd been certain she'd understand that one just didn't do that. But Fan-le was right, she couldn't see it. It must be a human failing.

He walked out the nearest door to avoid the crowded hallway and marched along the nearly deserted terrace towards the front of the palace. He turned the corner just as Hunding entered the grand portal.

He saw the other humans arriving, but didn't see Hunding with them. They were of higher rank than she was, though, so he assumed that she would be coming later. He set himself to wait.

* * *

Hunding stunned them all to immobility when she walked in without Sim-ne. They looked at one another. Where was Sim-ne, they silently asked. Had he told her the awful truth? More important, should someone else tell her? The answer to that was yes, of course. But no one wanted to be the one to do it. The task had been delegated, let the delegate come forth.

They shuffled into their places at Hunding's direction, casting furtive, desperate glances at each other.

"Where's Sim-ne?" Hunding asked.

"He went looking for you," said Fan-le.

"Oh?" She was surprised, and not pleased, but she couldn't allow herself to be distracted at this point. "Well, we'll just hope he gets here before we have to start," she said.

Abdomens curled under in nervous reaction to that. They'd all so hoped that she would ask why he'd gone looking for her. That would have given them an opening to tell her. As it was, they now felt compelled to keep silent, as they always did when faced with Hunding's forceful personality.

* * *

Lady Sisree came into the hall and took her place on her couch, a padded apparatus like the ones on the transport that had brought the humans from the spaceport. One by one the screens around the room brightened and showed the faces of the visiting queens. Those in the hall responded by performing a Fibian bow to each new appearance, pedipalps held in that one exquisite degree below the full first degree of respect. That honor was reserved for their hostess, Queen Tewsee.

Tewsee appeared from behind Raeder and his group of officers, taking her couch so quietly that if the Fibians in the hall had not begun to bow they'd never have known she was there.

"Welcome," the queen said. "Welcome my sister queens and all of your followers. Welcome to my daughter, Lady Sisree, and a special welcome for our human friends." She gestured towards Raeder and his people and they bowed.

At this point all eyes were upon the Welters. Until the queen had pointed them out, Sun-hes quickly informed them, it was impolite to actually stare at the humans.

The humans returned the stares, stone-faced.

Interesting, Raeder thought. Being stared at by people with eight eyes is much worse than being stared at by people with two. About eight times worse, in fact. He also noticed that they seemed disinclined to stop staring.

At last Tewsee began her welcoming speech again and let the humans off the hook. For it would be rude to look elsewhere while a queen was speaking.

"That was intense," Sarah said out of the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah," Peter agreed.

"When do we get to see Hunding's little performance?" Goldberg asked.

The doctor was clearly enjoying himself. He'd spent years involved in discussion groups about theoretical aliens and he couldn't get enough of looking at them. Raeder was afraid that he was going to start asking them embarrassing questions at the first opportunity.

Truon whispered, "As soon as the queen has finished speaking."

Which we should not be doing right now. Raeder turned and gave the doctor a significant look. Boy, I'm so nervous you'd think I was going to be tossing a flag around. 

 

* * *

Hunding ran around, arranging her little squadron of Fibians to suit her aesthetic sense. Adjusting lines, reminding them to straighten up. She could feel nervous tension coming off of them in waves.

"Just relax," she said to them. "You have no reason to be nervous, you're going to be fantastic! Head up, Ame-ce!"

"We've got to tell her!" Ses-teh muttered.

"All right," Fan-le said, "I'll do it."

"No talking in the ranks," Hunding snapped. "Now remember, you don't start whistling until the doors begin to open, then you continue whistling until you've all marched into the hall and have taken five marching steps in place. Got it?"

"Yes!" they shouted.

"Lady Hunding!" Sim-ne hustled up to her. "I was waiting for you outside."

"Never mind that," Hunding said, "just get in line. And it's just Hunding. Not lady anything."

"I have something I must tell you," Sim-ne said, following her instead of seeking his place as ordered.

Hunding turned and frowned at him. Nothing happened to her face, of course, but she projected frown at him and his pedipalps automatically found what the team had come to feel was the proper degree of respect for this human powerhouse.

"There'll be time for that later, Sim-ne," she said. Hunding pointed ruthlessly to his place with the blues. "Get in line, now!"

Her strange eyes glittered at him in a threatening way and the Fibian soldier was very much inclined to obey. But from behind him came a wave of desperate encouragement from his teammates.

"It's about the whi . . ."

The great doors began to swing open and Hunding pushed Sim-ne into his place.

"Later," she said. Then she hurried to stand in her place by the doors. She put her silver whistle to her lips and when the doors were fully opened she blew on it.

Immediately the ranks began to march in, whistling the jaunty tune for all they were worth.

An audible gasp went up around the room as the whistling marchers filed in. Raeder smiled, sort of, because he'd always enjoyed this tune. He assumed that the collective intake of breath was in awe of the drill team's achievement. They way they were moving was incredible, and the rhythmic sound of their feet was most impressive.

Beside him the queen began to rise from her couch. Slowly, grandly, like some strange hot-air balloon she came to her feet. Across the hall, the Lady Sisree began to rise also.

Wow! Just like the king during Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus," Raeder thought. Raeder turned to Sun-hes and thought he looked rather gray.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"They're whistling!" Sun-hes said. The coarse hairs sprinkled over his chitin were standing out in horror.

"So?" Peter said.

"Whistling is . . . is . . . it's a vigorous invitation to sex!" the Fibian said.

"Oh God!" Raeder raced across the floor trying to attract Hunding's attention. "Hunding!" he half shouted.

Hunding looked up at the sound of her name and saw the commander heading towards her. His face was calm, but his lips were pursed as though to whistle and his index finger sawed frantically across his throat. Instantly she put her whistle to her lips and blew the changes. A tap on the control mechanism she held brought forth a rousing John Philip Sousa march.

A glance over his shoulder showed Raeder that the queen and Lady Sisree were sinking back onto their couches, looking strangely transfixed. The Fibians around the hall, including the other clan's queens on their screens, wore a similar look.

Oh, God, he thought. He moved up to Hunding. "No more whistling," he said. "That's an order."

"No, sir," she whispered.

He gave her a doubtful look.

"There's no more whistling."

With a curt nod Raeder made his way back to his place by Queen Tewsee. After an embarrassed moment he looked up at her without moving his head. She was looking down at him. He sidled a little closer to her.

"We had no idea, your majesty," he said quietly. "Whistling carries no such connotation among humans." Well, wolf whistling, but that's another story. "We're terribly embarrassed and deeply sorry to have caused you or the other queens any distress whatsoever."

He instinctively cast her his most appealing look, knowing that it would mean nothing to a Fibian.

After a moment Tewsee's mandibles began to click, very softly, but very rapidly. She put her pedipalps up to hold them still and her tailwhip began to vibrate. The queen forced her eyes away from the little human and she concentrated on the drill being performed for her benefit. For the most part she was successful, but every now and again she would be overcome by an almost irresistible trembling.

Raeder watched her for a moment with some apprehension. Then he turned to Sarah.

"Please go down and tell Lady Sisree what happened," he whispered. "She's looking a little shell-shocked." And well she might. Our hostess arranges for and looks forward to this event only to have the performers strut in making lewd suggestions. What must she think of us? He started to snicker and had to cover his mouth before he lost control. Oh, God. This has to be one for the books.

He glanced up at the queen. She glanced down at the same moment and they both had to look away, both trembling with barely controlled mirth. Both solved their dilemma by staring fiercely forward, watching the drill team as though maintaining a heartbeat depended upon it.

Throughout the evening all of the principals avoided looking at one another as it tended to bring on an almost painful bout of the giggles. Most inappropriate for a serious diplomatic reception.

 

 

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