Yngve, AR - Darc Ages 02 - City Of Masks Page 4

  "His Eminence's wife, our mistress, protector of Vanitian children, Lady Gradischa of Eckos! And their heir, the most beloved daughter of our city, patron of the arts, Bottichea!"

  The visitors beheld the masked figures on the three silk-draped thrones. If their masks were to be believed, Lord Berluchos was a balding, thin, perennially grinning, jovial man in his middle age. He also wore an enormous golden-curled wig that made his head seem too big. His wife's mask suggested a plump, prim woman with red locks arranged to frame her rose-colored cheeks. And the mask of Bottichea was obscured by a gauze veil - a mask over a mask...

  "I wonder what their wedding night was like," mumbled Threo in Awonso's ear. Awonso suppressed a smile. Any moment now, Kensaburé thought, someone would leap out and declare that the joke was over. But he walked up to the ornate, jewel-encrusted throne and kneeled on one leg before Berluchos. Kiti-Mo translated his words.

  Kensaburé glanced over his shoulder at his party, and noticed that only Threo was not kneeling with the others. He gave the young physician an angry nod, and Threo reluctantly went down on one knee.

  After the formal greetings and exchanges of letters from Damon City and Lord Damon's allies, the visitors waited for the city lord's response. An advisor discussed the letter with Berluchos as minutes passed. And finally the advisor - his mask a bearded caricature of gaunt, stern vizier - faced the knight and said: "You may rise. Chairs for our guests!"

  Masked servants carried in a set of chairs.

  The vizier-masked man said: "I am Sarastos, chief counselor to His Eminence and his court. Our master wants to know what gifts you bring him. I should warn you - Lord Berluchos rewards generosity in kind and stinginess in kind."

  Hesitating only briefly, Kensaburé spoke from memory the lines he had been taught by Dohan and Librian: "Your Eminence! We come to offer you freedom - freedom from fear. We have the cure for the great plague which has ravaged the world for too long. And we are going to give it to you. We also offer to open a trade route to Castilia, once we have ensured that all of your people receives the cure and can travel freely without fear of plague."

  He paused for the anticipated reaction and excitement. But the court of masked men and women in colorful costumes fell silent, their eyes scanning the masked visitors. The ruling family members whispered among each other and then to Sarastos, who turned to the knight.

  "Your letters confirm what you say, but you make an awfully big promise. How do you intend to prove this cure? There are no plague victims in this region. The Leper tribes have long since been driven out of the Italican peninsula."

  Awonso tapped Kensaburé's shoulder and whispered: "He's lying! We know there are Lepers in the wilderness of Italica."

  Kensaburé pretended not to have heard the whispering, and said to Sarastos: "I bring with me a doctor, Threo of Mechao, whose father invented the plague vaccine. The cure is injected in the bloodstream and does two things: first, it destroys the pollution of the body which causes children to be born deformed. Second, it cures the infection which causes minor deformities. Once cured, the body develops its own protection, so-called 'immunity.' And if the disease should return, our doctors can isolate it and improve the vaccine."

  He added a warning that other city-states were accepting the cure at a rapid rate; any city that chose to refuse, would risk being feared and shunned.

  Berluchos spoke: "What of the laws against tampering with genes?" His voice sounded muffled, as if the mask were blocking his mouth, and he strained to speak clearly. “Do your doctors practice forbidden knowledge?"

  "Your Eminence," Kensaburé replied, "my masters and our doctors' guilds have now admitted that the old laws were carried out with undue harshness. We do not approve of reckless experimentation with the genes of living things in our cities. However, the cure works... and the world sorely needs it. Would we have traveled this far, braved sea and pirates, for a lie?"

  Berlouchos paused, pretended to stroke the painted-on beard on his mask, and said: "We appreciate your efforts. Before we accept your offer, a demonstration of sorts would be in order. Perhaps our armored knights could capture a Leper from the north and bring him here for testing your cure."

  "I have seen the cure work. We have all taken the treatment. But I shall be honest: deformities from birth cannot be cured by the vaccine alone. Only the contagion is removed."

  Threo wanted to speak, to do his duty and inform the Vanitians and use his skills, but Okono and Awonso held him back so he could not stand up and cause a scene.

  Lord Berluchos invited his guests to stay the night in his palace, and the palace staff carried their luggage to the guest quarters.

  The travelers were escorted through corridors with arched ceilings where a few electric lights spread a yellow illumination. The corridor walls were almost completely covered by very old painted portraits, dark with the patina of centuries. Threo noticed that the paintings only depicted real faces.

  "Lend me your robot," Threo asked Okono. "I need information."

  Outside the door to his guest-room, Threo gave a gold coin to a servant, and asked him: "When is it proper to remove this?" He gestured at his face-mask, and Kiti-Mo translated.

  The servant, her mask a subservient grimace of cowardice, replied: "Why, in the dark of course. Everyone knows that."

  "But do you ever see your own family members without... this?"

  The servant started visibly. "No, no... We have a face for every occasion, for every age. I have worn twenty faces in my life. The face from my birth is gone... but I still keep the face from my marriage..."

  Threo thanked her and sent the robot back to Okono's room. Then he shut and locked his door, removed the mask from his sweaty face, dropped his hat on a table and took a deep breath.

  "Goddess," he muttered. "I thought I would suffocate... how can they stand wearing them all day long?"

  At least, he thought, the figures in their paintings did not seem mad. His spacious room had a balcony overlooking the courtyard below, a framed painting on one wall and a fresco on the wall facing the balcony. A single electric lamp-globe in the ceiling spread a yellow light over the room.

  He walked up to the painting and studied it closer. It depicted some scene from the city's past; its landmarks were recognizable. In the foreground, an armored commander pointed toward the horizon, surrounded by a following of men, women and children of all social stations.

  In the picture's background, fires or explosions illuminated the city harbor; glowing lines of laser fire played across a darkened sky.

  Threo looked closer still. The smallest details were blurred by a layer of grime... was that a mass of people fleeing in the background, or advancing enemies? The unknown painter clearly suggested some great threat coming from the sea while the ruler stood removed from danger, or were fleeing it - or were ignorant of it.

  Filled with forebodings, Threo went out on the balcony and took in the view of the city and the harbor to the east. The rain had just about ceased, and a gray haze lay over the city's spires and rooftops. He tried to locate the Blackwhale in the harbor, but could not recognize it through the haze.

  Then he went over to the side of the balcony's stone rail, and peeked beyond the column on its side. On the other side of the column was the balcony of the adjacent room. Over the din of the city and the dripping of rainwater from gutters and roofs, he could hear the fizz and static of Awonso's radio set.

  "Hey! Psst! Awonso!" The round-faced young man walked out and saw Threo wave at him from the other balcony. Neither of them wore their masks. "Have you looked at the pictures on the walls?"

  "Yes... beautiful, are they not?" He grinned. “Much more interesting than the ones in in my town! There is one in here of a beautiful woman, and she is only wearing a tiny -"

  "Does she wear a mask? Does anyone in a picture wear a mask?"

  Awonso stopped grinning, and understood what Threo was implying. "No. How strange! What does it mean?"

  "I sl
ipped one of the maids a coin, and she answered my questions. It is not a festival or joke! Everyone here wears masks all their lives, except in the dark! And they don't call them 'masks', but their 'faces'!" Threo gestured like people on Kap Verita when they were excited or wanted to press an argument. "Something bad has happened here, I just know it."

  Awonso shrugged. "So why not just ask the city lord, or some other Vanitian, to take off his mask?"

  Threo made a glum face. "And what if they refuse... if they have something to hide and would stop us from leaving with their secret?"

  Awonso swallowed. "Oh goddess."

  "Have you had radio contact with Damon City yet?"

  "I tried, but there is a strong noise signal which drowns out all frequencies... as if we were standing on top of a power plant, or... oh no." His eyes went wide. "Someone is deliberately blocking out the signal of my set. I cannot tell whether my word gets through to Castilia, and I cannot hear any incoming answers."

  "Quick, go and warn Kensaburé. We should leave this place. Now! I'll go warn Okono. And take your radio with you."

  Despite his overweight appearance, Awonso was quick to oblige and rush out. Threo went to the other side of the rail and climbed over to the next balcony. He found himself looking in through the open door to another guest-room, similar to his own, and heard the sound of tools working against metal parts.

  He half feared he might be intruding on some private, intimate scene, and knocked on the doorpost. "Okono?"

  A tool dropped to the floor. Then he heard Okono's strained voice: "What are you doing here? Where are your manners?"

  Chapter 5

  Threo cautiously stepped inside, expecting to see the noblewoman in a bathrobe - and started.

  On the floor lay the dropped tool, a screwdriver. Okono was wearing a bathrobe, but grease had streaked her pretty face and hands, and on a sheet beside her rested the opened body of her robot Kiti-Mo. Its head had been screwed loose and the oversized doll-eyes blinked at Threo, as if reproaching him.

  Okono glared at him, flushing shame turning to hot anger as he watched. Again her eyes went wide and unguarded, and it fascinated him. She must have noticed, for she quickly turned vulnerable and sad.

  "It is all this damned moisture, their leaking roofs... it has damaged Tiki-Mo's circuits. I brought very few spare parts." She wiped grease off a metal piston and re-attached it to the robot's hip joints. "I think I have fixed the problem... for now. If she malfunctions again, we shall have to carry her around."

  Threo smiled with surprised delight. "You are an engineer! And I thought noblewomen spent all their days breeding and raising little warriors."

  She shot him a fierce look and, refusing to answer, swiftly finished the re-assembly of her robot. Once she had screwed its head back on, Kiti-Mo sat up and pushed itself onto its feet. The robot took one rickety step; a hiss blew out from the robot's hips, and a gob of axle grease plopped down on the carpet. Kiti-Mo fluttered its eyelids at its owner and said: "Sorry."

  Threo had to laugh; then he remembered his errand. "Please come with me to Kensabur's room. I think we may be in danger."

  She nodded, told the robot to stay behind, and went into the adjacent bathroom to get dressed. When she returned, she was wearing her white and red dress, her hair tied into a knot behind her head, her neck wrapped in scarf - and she wore the painted mask.

  The blinking jewelry diodes illuminated her head and fingers, and the mask could almost pass for a living face in the colored lights. Threo preferred to see the real face.

  "Did you leave your mask behind, doctor? You should not leave this room without it."

  With visible irritation, Threo climbed back into his own room through the balcony and found his mask, put it on and left the room with his medical bag in hand.

  "Damn this town."

  Buchu, the bodyguard, stood outside Okono's door and joined them as they walked to Kensabur's quarters, a much larger double-room apartment with a small chamber for his manservant.

  "Is it time for supper yet?" he asked when his servant let them in. "Gods, I hope they serve real meat." He had just washed up and dressed in his best evening clothes. "My mask, Jacob." The servant handed him the painted mask. Kensabur hesitated before putting it on. "At first, I did not like this... disguise. But it does make it easier... to play my role."

  Threo pulled off his own mask and said: "The Vanitians know about radio. They have some means of blocking Awonso's radio from receiving and transmitting. I tell you, something is seriously wrong."

  "I have seen stranger things on your home island. Snake-headed birds." The knight frowned briefly, then put on his mask. It was almost a caricature, but captured his large-boned features. "Now, let us go join our host... and please try not to embarrass me."

  Threo put the mask back on, but could not shake off his bad mood.

  "If anything should happen," asked Kensabur, "or if our stomachs disagree with the food, can you do something with your bag of medicines?"

  "I'm not a court poisoner, if that's what you're suggesting. But yes, I have antidotes."

  "Come on, then."

  The party descended the stairs to the great hall where the banquet had been set up, their servants following close behind.

  Courtiers and the ruling family chatted while musicians played light string-music in the background. They all looked up with masked faces as the guests arrived - and watched Okono's robot with special interest. She had to lead Kiti-Mo by the hand, to keep it from tripping on the staircase.

  Then, as it reached the foot of the stairs, Okono gave the machine a voice command. Kiti-Mo bent its metal knees and held out its arms in a curtsey, blinking as it bowed its head. The courtiers laughed and applauded.

  "The eyes have it," Threo said aside to Awonso.

  "Sire, please ask the city lord about my radio," Awonso said aside to Kensabur. "Inquire, but carefully, whether they have some powerful energy source below the palace, such as a power plant. Sometimes radiation can leak from a fusion reactor and register as static on a receiving set."

  Kensabur knew enough to understand the warning. He lowered his voice: "Are you saying we may be exposed to dangerous radiation as we speak?"

  "Possibly."

  " You can always step into your coat of armor... sire," said Threo sarcastically. "It ought to protect your valuable genetic assets from harm. I think the Vanitians are trying to prevent us from sending a distress call. We should leave with the Blackwhale while there is time."

  "You are too quick to judge," said Kensabur. "Perhaps too quick to run, as well. Can I trust you not to flee at the first sign of trouble - doctor ?"

  Okono hushed them down as Berluchos and his wife came to greet them. This time Berluchos spoke in a much clearer voice, though it sounded like the same man. He curtsied, and Okono faced him with a deep bow.

  "I love your toy, my lady!" he boomed, laughing beneath the mask. "My wife would like to buy it."

  "Please pardon me, my lord. It is not for sale." The robot translated and its voice sounded more humanoid now; apparently Okono had improved the modulation. "But the mechanics of our city can surely build you another robot. If that would please you..."

  "It would!" The city lord and wife nodded their approval. "Do join us at the walking table."

  While the city lord's court surrounded Okono and Kensabur, Awonso and Threo - who did not wear nearly as impressive clothing or jewelry - were ignored. Being quite hungry, the two young men filled a few plates from the stacked buffet table and joined Buchu and Jacob by the foot of the stairs.

  Only then did they realize that every dish came prepared for eating with a mask on: soup to be eaten through thick straws, meat and fish ground up into porridge to be eaten with very small spoons... and many kinds of drinks.

  It was impossible to eat without getting some on one's mask, and the courtiers constantly wiped their "mouths" with napkins.

  Awonso ate, wiping his mask frequently, while Threo moved in beh
ind Jacob.

  "Is our ship still in the harbor and safe?" Threo asked.

  Behind his mask, Jacob replied: "Yes, sirrah."

  "And you, Buchu - are you mute?"

  The massive bald man could not have been any less impassive without his mask and matching headscarf. "I speak only when my mistress tells me to."

  "We need to sneak into the bowels of this building and see what's going on. For the safety of your mistress. Will you come along?"

  Buchu's only movement came from his breathing. "I shall not disgrace her."

  "Very well... then I go on my own. If our host asks, I went back to my room. Awonso, are you coming?"

  Awonso slurped soup through his straw, burped and apologized. "But I am not finished..."

  "Come along. Perhaps we'll find some real food."

  Awonso got his radio set back from Jacob, and they sneaked out through an unlit doorway underneath the stairs. A stone stairwell led down, and the sounds from upstairs faded. Threo lit a small candle from his bag, and led the way.

  Awonso put on his brass headphones, switched on his set and scanned for incoming signals.

  "The static - it's stronger down here," he said. "Must be a radiation source nearby."

  "I never studied radiation much," Threo admitted as they made way down the spiraling stairwell. "My specialties are bacteria and viruses. Did you enjoy the food?"

  "Yes, it was delicious, and the wine -"

  "I will give you a coal tablet, take it when the diarrhea sets in, and drink only wine or beer. The water may be contaminated."

  "Co-contaminated?"

  "I don't expect clean kitchens in a place where people wear masks all the time, and can't see everything around them. Their food must be festering with germs."

  "Damn. Just when I was starting to enjoy myself... Wait. A strong signal. That way." Awonso pointed to a metal-plated door bearing a warning sign. "I think it reads 'Guild Members Only.' "