Festival of the Elders
The desire to possess objects had less value to him than the actual search and bargain, which he freely admitted was the main reason why collecting had become so addictive.
Chapter 6
It looked like a dragonfly—long, sleek body with four, translucent wings the colors of a stained glass window—but it had a long tail and a funnel mouth designed to suck blood. When it buzzed past the large window, a beam of light briefly struck its wings and cast a cavalcade of colors across the table and floor. It buzzed softly as it lingered over the table for a few seconds, a soft, blurry outline against the fading shade of light before it zipped across the room in circles.
Kira warily followed its path as it flew through the room. It seemed to circle insensately in the air as if it wasn't sure how it ended up in this strange little world placed in the path of its usual trajectory. Sometimes, it might land on the arm of a wooden statue, gathering intelligence, or perhaps futilely mating, its lower body pumping up and down, up and down, before, frustrated, it lit off again, circling the room in search of something that might logically suit its purpose. When it buzzed over the table a few times, Kira flinched, ready to defend herself against its predatory aims, before it flew away in search of whatever it came to find. Neither Mister nor Xandreleusmarin seemed to notice it. And Tkulka, who stood near the window, grasping his walking stick and paying little attention to anything it seemed, did not give it much mind either. The strange insect took one more pass over the table, buzzing low enough that it sounded right behind her ears, then found its escape through the large window in front of the table.
Kira leaned back in her chair, relieved. But then another thought struck her: The insect escaped, but she and Mister were still stuck in this castle and this bizarre tableau. She gazed at the window and wondered how steep the drop was.
Sitting quietly beside her, Mister leaned forward against the table and pressed his features into a stony expression of impatience. Ever since they sat down, the collector had pricked at both their impatiences with his nonstop babbling. Starrians were noted raconteurs, but this one certainly took the cake. He talked incessantly about his early career as a trader, and the massive deals he engineered with governments as far away as the Beta settlements and Aderna. He gave a detailed account of how he became a collector, offering a long story about his first acquisition, a pair of Najiumian star knives. He had acquired them from a fellow collector of his rank, who had been loathed to part with them since they were the principal item in his small, but growing collection of artifacts. But xandreleusmarin would not hear of walking away from trade so quickly. No was simply an invitation to try harder, he exclaimed. Indeed, the very fact that the trader was reluctant to part with the knives made Xandreleusmarin want them even more. What value did they possibly possess that made his colleague cling to them even harder? Xandreleusmarin was determined to find out. He drove a hard bargain, offering him a deal he could not possibly reject, and soon was able to, at last, convince the trader to part with the knives. (He had forgotten what he had traded for them in return. "But it must have been just as valuable to him as those knives were to me," he said, his eyes glittering.) The knives were a terrific collector's item, but he had long since parted with them himself, trading them in turn for another artifact he had come to desire even more.
The desire to possess objects had less value to him than the actual search and bargain, which he freely admitted was the main reason why collecting had become so addictive. "It's the thrill of it all," he said, gritting his teeth and thrusting his fist. "The actual hunt." He had acquired a great many objects during his time as a collector, so many that he lost count. He mentioned another room downstairs with a bolted door. They had passed it in silent inquisition when they came upstairs, Kira and Mister trading more worrisome glances along the way. He kept the bulk of his collection in that room and where, Kira assumed, he also stored the volume. The artifacts gave him no real joy. He grew bored as soon as he acquired them. "Now they are just things taking up space," he sniffed dismissively.
"Then why still do it?" Kira asked. It was the first time she had spoken a word since they sat down. Xandreleusmarin was less a sparkling conversationalist than he was a hoarder of conversation. He looked at her with a measure of surprise that she had spoken at all. "Why bother to trade for things you don't want?"
A smile spread slowly across his lips. "I already told you: It is the thrill of the hunt. You see," he said, glancing at Mister, "some people hunt animals, I hunt artifacts. I never tire of it." He raised his hands as if to say "Simple as that!" But, of course, there was nothing simple about the hunt. He had to trowel every corner of the quadrants in search of that one artifact that might ignite his passions. He searched every iniquitous den where the most unsavory lots congregated. When he asked if they had ever been to the underground markets of Aderna, Kira, and Mister looked sideways at each other. It just so happened that the underground markets were where they began their travels together, though neither was willing to tell the collector that. He looked at them as if he wasn't expecting an answer. Despite his low opinion of the people who patronized them, he praised the markets effusively and expressed deep sorrow that their time was running short. IAU field agents had infiltrated the markets and were in the process of shutting them down. Though, of course, the markets might show up elsewhere, such was the demand for collectors and traders alike to profit from banned goods. Men like the collector were not ones to let the termination of the Aderna markets end their ceaseless search for acquiring ill-begotten artifacts.
"What about Bijoon, have you been there?" he said, again not expecting answers. "I have never been there myself, but I hear that their markets are also quite comprehensive." He raised the goblet filled with tapis wine and brought it to his lips, his gaze trading from Kira to Mister. "I imagine they would have a lot of artifacts from Ro Kan even."
Kira narrowed her eyes. It seemed he was baiting her. As a field agent for IPPA, she was well within her authority to arrest Xandreleusmarin for not only possessing a volume of the Book of Dreams but for trading artifacts from Ro Kan, which was a strictly enforced prohibition. But since she was here, unarmed and at his mercy, he flung his transgressions at her with a mocking wink and a smile. She no longer regretted failing to bring her weapon with her. Now she was angry that she was prohibited from the only line of defense in the first place. What did they expect of her in this now dangerous situation? Magic?
She drew in a deep breath and went for another line of attack. "I'm surprised, Xandreleusmarin," she said, grasping the stem of her goblet. "Being a Starrian, I thought you'd have the utmost respect for IPPA and its regulations. After all, your people founded it, built the alliance, and commanded peace since the end of the war. You of all people should be the most vigilant in following its rules."
Xandreleusmarin's expression darkened. "Have you ever been to Starrus 7, Agent?"
She sipped the wine. It was lukewarm. "No, I haven't."
"Then you can't possibly know what you're talking about."
"But you're supposed to be our ally," she said.
He shrugged. "I am no more obligated to be your ally than I am obligated to be his—" He pointed to Tkulka—"though we do have a very productive working relationship of mutual concerns. I'm loyal to no one but myself. Besides all those rules and regulations." He sniffed. "They were designed by Oellians, you know, with an Oellian sense of order. They can be so. . .rigid. . .so lacking of any imagination, can't they? I'm sure you agree."
"As a member of IPPA," she said sternly, "I can quote you every rule and regulation in the guidelines right down to their subsets. I have more respect for the laws than you'll ever have. So, no—" She sniffed in her own right—"I don't agree."
The collector scrutinized her for a few seconds. "I'm sure you don't," he said. "But I can't possibly see how that matters now."
"You're right," Mister spoke up at last. "We have other matters to attend to."
Xandreleusmarin hungrily trained his eyes on him. "What matters is that we are here, enjoying one another's company."
"Enjoying?" Kira huffed. "You call this enjoying?"
"Why not?" He cocked his head. "Do you not enjoy the food and wine? I admit my replicator is an old model, but it does an adequate job. Of course, I may be down to my last supplies since I don't get very much off-world trade here. Nonetheless, you are my visitors, my guests and I couldn't fail to show you my hospitality. Contrary to what you think, Agent," he said, "I am very much a Starrian, with all my customary habits intact."
Mister sighed heavily and leaned in his chair. His patience was wearing thin. "I told you earlier why I was here. . ."
"Yes, of course, for the book."
"You said you'd show it to me."
"Indeed."
"So where is it?"
Xandreleusmarin smiled greedily, then sipped more wine. He took his time before he responded. He seemed to enjoy toying with their patience. When he set the goblet back down on the table, he interlaced his fingers and smacked his lips. "Very well, then," he said. "I suppose I should get to the heart of the matter."
Mister raised his chin and fixed his silver-hued glare on the collector. "Proceed."
Xandreleusmarin grinned again. "I propose a trade."
"For what?"
"The volume, of course." Kira and Mister looked at each other, aghast. The collector continued. "I am a trader and a collector and I see that it is only right that I get something in return for losing such a valuable artifact."
Silence fell over them and lingered like an unwelcome guest. Kira stared wide-eyed at the collector's audacity. But, after a few moments of shocked silence, Mister leaned back in his chair and laughed. "You were right," he said, nodding to Kira. "He doesn't give a damn about the rules."
"Something tells me neither do you, Z'Dhia?" he said cautiously. Then, with a curious frown, added: "And who is this Valestria. . .Agent Wood?"
"That volume belongs to my people." His voice was cold, stern, and completely in control.
"Well, be that as it may, I still intend to make a profitable deal. I must be compensated."
Kira shook her head in astonishment. "Is that what this is all about?" she said. "The dinner, the bios of your life and career? You wanted to set up a trade. You really do love the hunt."
"More than you can ever imagine, Agent Wood," he said, fixing her with a hard stare. "That book provided me with some of the greatest pleasures I have ever experienced in my years as a collector. And while it is just a pretty trinket of late, it is still valuable—to me and the market. As I said, I want to be compensated for whatever losses I incur."
Mister scowled. "For stealing something that was never yours, to begin with."
"I didn't steal it," he said, shocked that anyone could ever lay such a claim at his feet. "I traded it quite fairly. I am within my rights to make such demands."
"Do you have any idea what you're saying?" Kira said. "He is a N'Dhia from Idris-Sarra. Under Article 25 of the IPPA regulations, he has the right to return any artifacts that were stolen from his planet under the occupation. You are violating. . ."
"Yes, yes, yes," he said, waving his hand. "I know the regulations. 'Penal Code §135, in Section 1: Anyone caught possessing or in the commission of possessing artifacts listed as banned items in the Trade and Commission Inventory of Prohibited Goods will be charged and penalized for said crime, subject to imprisonment for up to 20 Orbital Cycles on Colony 9.' I traded on Starrus 7 with practically every member planet in the Alliance, Agent Wood, do you think I don't know the bylaws?"
"Then you know you don't have the right to even demand compensation. . ."
"I can demand whatever I want," he said. "After all, you are on my planet."
"Your planet?" Mister said. For the first time, he was flummoxed.
"Yes. Bellavaran is my planet. I make the rules. And rule number 1 is: You must compensate me for any losses I may incur as a trader."
Kira looked at Mister.—He's lost his damn mind.
The Z'Dhia scrutinized him coolly. "I think Tkulka might have something to say about that."
He snorted. "Him? No, he does whatever I say. Isn't that right, Tkulka?"
Tkulka looked at Xandreleusmarin. His expression was flat and unreadable. The fears Kira had earlier about whether the Dkokli could be trusted began to crowd her troubled mind again.
"And if I don't compensate you?" The Z'Dhia's voice was low and menacing, a dare. "What will you do then?"
For the first time since they sat down, xandreleusmarin looked intimidated. He smiled nervously, then said: "Then I shall have to stop you."
"How?" Now, Mister was baiting him.
He snorted a nervous laugh. "Do you think I'm not without means to stop you?"
Kira glanced back at Tkulka. He was watching them silently, expressionlessly. The wooden blade dangled off his hip. With one word from xandreleusmarin, he was prepared to use that blade against them, and they had no means to defend themselves.
Placing her hand on Mister's shoulder, she asked xandreleusmarin what he wanted to trade the volume for. The Z'Dhia shot her a hard look. She knew he was offended by the very idea, but she pleaded for understanding.—I can't properly defend you here, she said. His eyes blazed.
Xandreleusmarin looked pleased. "There is one thing I would like to trade for the volume. One thing I believe is more valuable than any object in the universe. I daresay, even priceless."
"And?"
He smiled greedily, then looked at Mister. "Him."
In the distance, beyond the window, the steady percussive beats echoed across the woodlands. The festivities in Dkoklu and elsewhere had begun. Tkulka stared distantly out of the window.
Xandreleusmarin held Mister's gaze as though he were clutching it in his fist. His lips curled into a grin. His hands were on the table, fingers splayed like a cat ready to pounce.
Recovering from her shock, Kira said: "What did you say?"
"I said," he smiled, "I want him. The Z'Dhia. I will trade the book for him." He paused, his chest heaving with excitement before he added: "Do you not see how incredibly valuable a N'Dhia is? No trader, no collector can ever claim to have one. Who can claim to have ever met one? Until now, I certainly couldn't. Everyone knows about them and has heard the great myths of the Z'Dhian and how they travel mysteriously throughout the galaxy to right the wrongs that have been done to their people. Such noble creatures, and yet how many can honestly say that they have dined with one?"
If Kira's eyes had grown any larger, they would have fallen right out of the sockets. She wasn't sure if she and Mister were the subjects of a comically absurd cosmic joke or if Xandreleusmarin was making a serious offer. The gleam in his eyes was no mistake. He was seriously offering to trade the volume in return for the Z'Dhia.
She recalled the unease the Z'Dhia had felt since arriving on Bellavaran. She thought the warning the Z'Dradan had given him implied bodily harm. Now she realized it was more than that. Xandreleusmarin had no intentions of physically hurting Mister. Instead, he intended to cage him, to turn him into an artifact for his museum of ill-gotten curiosities, a thing to be crated and likely forgotten once he no longer satisfied the collector's urges and then, just as likely, traded for something else. The whole matter was wildly absurd, and yet there had been precedent, centuries ago on her ancestral planet even…people turned into curios…toured around countries…caged in zoos like exotic animals. She grew sick with fury.
"Have you lost your natural mind?!" she said, bolting up from the table. He looked up at her curiously. "What kind of people do you think we are to think we'd ever make a trade like that with you?" Clawing inside the pocket of her uniform jacket, she removed her badge, flashed it in front of Xandreleusmarin, and read him his rights.
The collector cocked his head, amused. "Am I under arrest?"
"Yes, you are. Stand up." He remained sitting, head cocked, amused. She repeated her command once more, this time with a warning. "Stand up or. . ."
"Stand up or what, Agent?"
From beneath the table, the Starrian raised a small pistol which he trained on Kira. She narrowed her eyes at the sight of it. She had assumed that if xandreleusmarin used any muscle on them, it would be from Tkulka, who was the only one noticeably armed. She did not count on Xandreleusmarin being similarly armed. Customs would likely have prevented him from entering Bellavaran's airspace if he had weaponry, so it was far likelier that he had manufactured the weapon from his replicating machine after he had landed. Just as he had manufactured the stone and mortar for his castle.
Kira drew in a deep breath and looked at Mister. She expected him to be angry, upset, and fearful, but instead, he leaned back in the chair with an unreadable expression.
"Do you realize the number of regulations you're violating right now?" she seethed.
"I lost count," he said and stood. "I was willing to make a fair offer, but I see that fairness is not in your armory of values." Mister laughed softly to himself, the first time since xandreleusmarin made his intentions known that he had shown any reaction. "Very well, if I must take what I want, then I will."
"And the trade?" the Z'Dhia said, his voice filled with mockery. "Don't I even merit that?"
"Oh, there will still be a trade," he said, then nodded toward Kira's traveling bag. "Give that to me."
"Why?" she said, grasping it tightly.
Xandreleusmarin came around the other side of the table and grabbed the bag. Kira tugged at it once before he aimed his weapon at her, then let it go. Grinning triumphantly, he placed the bag on the table and, with one hand, opened it. After scavenging inside, he found her communicator and remaining tracking device. He held them both above his head, then, storming toward the window, tossed them out.
Kira gritted her teeth, then looked at Mister. He had not brought his satchel on this mission. A rather prescient move. Xandreleusmarin had no reason to think that the Z'Dhia was hiding anything. Though, beneath his cloak, he kept The Key, the instrument he used with which to open a portal back into the nRoom. It was their only means of defense left.
Xandreleusmarin smirked and said: "I'll get the other tracking device off my vessel later." He motioned for both of them to move toward the entrance. "Tkulka, come with us," he ordered. "I will need your help."
Tkulka stared at him before he tapped his walking stick on the stone floor and followed.