Teaching a Unicorn to Dance

by Conrad Wong

Copyright (c) 1990

A shiver ran up Ariaou's back as she stepped into the star-lit stateroom. The task force commander of the Meetpoint system patrol and the captain of this ship, the `Rhadon's Promise' waited within, sitting on the other side of the dimly illuminated table; a steward brought in silver-domed platters and crystal glasses. He watched her calmly, his eyes the dark color of tree bark, his fur reddish-brown. A dire wolf.

The commander misinterpreted her hesitation and waved a paw to the seat at the other end of the table. "Please, be seated. You are quite safe as my guest here-- honor demands it."

The black-maned, calico-furred feline bard unslung her ancient shimmerlyre and set it down on the floor next to the table, then sat apprehensively, her tail swishing nervously. She wore her heavily jeweled ankle-length dress with a clumsiness that betrayed her inexperience with such fashions, turquoise squares alternating with emerald ones that matched her glittering green-gold eyes. Memories flitted uneasily within her mind.

A deep green forest, darkened by twilight. Two small kittens cried out to the screeching carrion birds overhead as a yellow-eyed predator approached.

A cloaked figure spoke to Ariaou, warning her that she would shortly receive bad news. The next day, a vidphone call told her that her brother had been murdered at King Ascenion's coronation.

An old grey-furred dire wolf faced down a golden unicorn, suited in swirling light that erupted in bolts of energy. He died, gunned down by a centaur behind him.

Ariaou blinked to see the steward filling her glass with a dark red wine of subtle aroma. The commander raised his glass in a silent toast, so she did the same to avoid looking distracted, barely noticing its rich and complex taste as she watched to see if the wolf noticed her discomfort.

The steward lifted the dome from the appetizer, skewered slivers of meat cooked in Ryme spices. Ariaou took one, watched the viewport as the distant winged form of the starliner `Princess's Favor' receded into a pinpoint of light and blazed into a thin line of fire as it accelerated away under main drive.

There was an uneasy pause after the meat was finished before the commander spoke. "Permit me to introduce myself properly. I am Prince Rhadon Mordenkainen of Hellsgate, the Task Force Commander of the Second Hellsgate Fleet, which is currently assigned to Meetpoint patrol."

"Ariaou, a bard from Meetpoint," she replied. Curiosity overpowered her natural caution. "If I might ask, why did you request my transfer from the `Princess's Favor'? I'm sure it couldn't solely be for the pleasure of my company at dinner."

Rhadon smiled, an eerie sight on a dire wolf. The steward removed the empty appetizer plate, substituted the first entree, an entire Elysian razor-tooth fish broiled and marinaded in redfruit juices, accompanied by a bottle of white wine. After the steward retreated to the kitchen, he said, voice quietly serious, "You and several people were the last to see my older brother. Have you any news of what's befallen him?"

Ariaou hesitated, wondering to herself about Rhadon's intent, then related the story of Gavar Mordenkainen, known better to her as Tarnkappe, and his attempt to wreak revenge upon her and the unicorn. She left out Sundancer's horn and certain other details, cautiously trying not to reveal more than necessary.

The commander's face remained expressionless, his sleek reddish-brown fur turned dark by the dim light of the stateroom. He nodded, finally. "Thank you. So he has found a kind of peace."

She asked, warily, fearing to tread upon some hidden taboo, "Is it true what he said, that a genetic disease haunts your line?"

The prince chuckled humorlessly. "The Curse of Lord Moreah. A sword hanging over each male descendant's head, which I have as yet been lucky enough not to feel. In the eyes of my people, Zephyr could not have killed my brother, for he was dead to them when his madness came, and even before that, his cruelty did not endear him to them. His exile was merely a public safety measure."

Ariaou nibbled on a piece of the fish as Prince Rhadon continued. "It is for this reason that I named my ship `Rhadon's Promise'. Because of the curse, I expect to die much sooner than most of my people, but I also have greater power and responsibilities. I have sworn to overcome my limits and make Hellsgate a power to respect in this galaxy, to serve my people to the best of my abilities."

The steward replaced the fish with the second entree, a traditional dish of Hellsgate: delicately crusty circles of bread filled with spiced and minced jaghorse meat. Though it smelled mouthwatering, Ariaou noted that the food failed to receive more than minimum attention from Rhadon.

"There's little at Meetpoint to hold my interest," the commander said, a faraway look in his dark eyes. "In truth, it's little more than an unneeded vacation, a political assignment of little strategic importance. But honor requires that I perform my duties, so Hellsgate shall be known as a world which keeps its obligations."

"Meetpoint Station's the political, cultural, and intellectual center of the galaxy," Ariaou replied noncommittally. "It's important that it be protected by a joint force, so that no single government will control it."

"True. There are certain possibilities. Yet while we patrol, who would attack?" The prince beckoned to the steward, who replaced the still half-full platter with a steaming bowl of trideer venison broth and a small plate of crusty finger-wide loaves which he dipped in the soup. "And I fear that while time passes slowly on patrol, the madness may overcome me slowly, first paranoia, then a thirst for battle in any form that might present itself, finally unthinking bloodlust. Each minute that passes is a minute closer to death."

As he spoke, armored shutters moved quietly to close the viewport. A small beeping noise came from Rhadon's belt communicator. He answered it, listened to the voice coming from the other end. "We'll be entering jump in sixteen minutes, Ariaou. At that time, you'll be transferred to a shuttle to Meetpoint. Matters have come up that require my attention."

Time passed slowly while the stewards removed the dishes for safety. Ariaou took up her shimmerlyre and played an ancient aire to fill the time, its sweet strains calming her nerves and apparently soothing Rhadon's as well. The immortally perfect strings of the shimmerlyre called forth visions of moonlight upon the water, quiet forests about a lake.

Rhadon listened quietly. Though his body failed to express emotions, his liquid dark eyes shone with hidden sorrows and memories. As Ariaou's music drew to an end, he stood quietly and took her hand, then kissed it. "My thanks. Your voice is lovely. Would that I could sing so well for you in turn."

A strange sense of unreality swept the room, causing her vision to warp slightly; then, in a moment of sudden shifting, it ended. When it passed, Ariaou stood up and bade farewell to Rhadon.

"Until we meet again under better auspices, fare thee well," he replied.

The steward escorted her to the waiting shuttle, which lifted slowly from the starship and made its way to the inner edge of the Oort cloud where Meetpoint Station orbited silently. `Rhadon's Promise' shrank into a point of light that blazed away as it entered warpspace.

Meetpoint Station approached steadily. Unlike the asteroid that was Ryme's `Quiet Reason', Meetpoint was built entirely of metal, a hundred spheres stacked one within another, each level a separate environment of its own. As the station grew nearer, Ariaou saw domes of various sizes dotting its surface, the exposed halves of auditoriums, stadiums, and concert halls.

Ariaou felt rather than saw the shuttle attach itself to one of the many docking ports. She disembarked, stepping into the crowded customs area of Meetpoint Starport F, then saw a familiar vulpine face waiting.

"Professor Karikhen!" she called, waving.

"Ariaou!" the red fox exclaimed, walking over to her. It seemed to the feline bard that the teacher walked with a slower gait, even for his age. Beneath short cocky ears, his green eyes shone as brightly as ever, taking note of the shimmerlyre that nestled between her shoulderblades, and the silvery case that protruded from her pouch. "Well met again! I trust you found what you were looking for?"

"Yes! It's a long story, but we've time," she replied, hugging him cordially, then picking up her bags from the collection area. They walked out of the starport section.

Karikhen chuckled and led her down a blue-green striped corridor to his skimmer, directing its autopilot to take them to the Amaranth Memorial Library of Ancient Lore. "I started some research when you sent me your letter," he explained. "But we'll need to use the older hardcopies in the archives."

The skimmer merged into Meetpoint internal traffic, passing two cargo maglev barges ferrying plastic crates to shipping. Shielded from the outside wind and noise within the streamlined vehicle, Ariaou related the full story to Karikhen, leaving out no details, and showed him the horn of the fallen Sundancer resting within its silvery carrying case.

The aged teacher removed a small laser-sighted loup from his many-pocketed vest and examined the horn. "A fascinating specimen, my dear feline. Am I correct in that you seek to know what virtues and secrets it might possess?"

"More than that. With Sundancer gone, there's one less guardian in the galaxy. I feel as if I've inherited a mantle of responsibility." Ariaou looked out the windows of the skimmer, watched the enclosed parks whirl by the clear plastic-walled corridor. "Why was I chosen? What must I do, and how should I do it?"

Karikhen nodded, more to himself than to the bard. "Not very many people recognize that with power must come responsibility. Unleashed power quickly rages out of control and burns its user, and the innocents about him."

The aged fox looked up as the skimmer coasted to a stop. "Perplexing. We've arrived at the Meetpoint Council building rather than the library."

Two uniformed guards arrived to escort them inside the cluster of domes that formed the center of government for the Meetpoint Station. They exchanged words with the professor, then opened the doors and led them up the stairs to the entrance. When Ariaou saw the professor walking calmly, she relaxed and followed with tail swaying anxiously. "Do you know why we've been taken here?"

"Very likely some sort of crisis," Karikhen replied, looking thoughtful and worried. His ears flickered. "It's not uncommon that when a situation arises that must be dealt with quickly and efficiently, they call upon a few people and settle as much as they can discretely before bringing it up with the public."

"It seems rather underhanded to me," Ariaou said, tail lashing.

"Yes, it is. But sometimes it's necessary. And though often it can be beneficial, there'll always be those who oppose it."

The guards saluted and took up positions at the side of the door as they entered a large hemisphere. Circles of chairs lined the gently sloping floor, only the lowest filled with Meetpoint officials; a raised dais sat in the middle of the room with a speaker's podium on top. Large viewscreens hanging from the ceiling flashed starmaps crossed with dotted lines indicating the known starships' plotted paths.

"Welcome, Professor Karikhen, Ariaou. I am Zaharis, the current Meetpoint External Coordinator." the speaker said from the podium. He was a jade-green reptile standing upright, four thin spidery legs providing balance. His skeletal arms played deftly over the keyboard buried in the podium, causing lines of text and graphics to scroll over the viewscreens. "I am sorry that we had to call you in so quickly, but as you'll see here, the situation demands a fast response."

Each screen flickered, then shifted to a grainy deep-space view of many long, thin cylinders bound into a single unit. "Our farthest patrol units discovered an ancient generation ship bound in-system at the far edge of the Oort cloud. A human ship."

He continued over the gasps of those assembled, "Though its technology appears to be far below that which human civilization achieved at the time of Ragnarok, it still exceeds our own capabilities in many areas. Curiously, it does not seem to possess warpspace travel."

"Despite the passage of many milleniae since Ragnarok and the colonizing of our worlds, anti-human sentiment runs strong virtually everywhere, and for good reasons. No one wishes to see an age return in which humans dominated all other species-- and that is precisely what we may be seeing if these humans succeed in colonizing a world." The viewscreen returned to plotting the generation ship's predicted path through the Meetpoint system, a line that ended in an orbit around the fourth planet.

"Professor Karikhen, your judgement has proven sound on previous matters," Zaharis said. "Who would you appoint as our representative to the human starship?"

"Ariaou," he said without hesitating.

The feline bard squeaked in shock and turned to look at him. "I've not the experience," she objected.

"I taught you. You will make a fine representative."

Zaharis raised a delicate second lid in a gesture much like a raised eyebrow. "We may find that tested sooner than we thought. We sent them a radio signal several hours ago from the intercepting ship explaining our faster-than-light communication protocol. They're hailing us now. Ariaou, your decision?"

Ariaou struggled to collect her wits, then stepped up to the podium next to Zaharis; Karikhen followed. The central viewscreen facing them flickered with a communication analysis report and the playback of the transmitted message. Mechanical distortion rendered the message tinny, the effects of slight incompatibilities in the equipment being used.

"This is the generation ship `Starfollower', crewed by six hundred people and carrying five hundred thousand passengers. We come in peace. We seek only a home for our people. We wish to speak with the denizens of this star system and begin negotiations. Repeat..."

"Open communications," Ariaou decided.

Almost immediately, the screen switched to the picture of a silver-haired elderly woman with bright brown eyes, her features pure-bred Japanese. She wore a dark blue ship's uniform with a world-and-starship emblem on her right shoulder and Captain's rank insignia on her sleeves. Her manner was crisp, sharp, and her look calm and analytical. "Greetings to you, Meetpoint Station! I am Captain Elaine Amaterasu of the EFS `Starfollower'. Have you the authority to negotiate with us?"

Ariaou kept herself as diplomatic and neutral as possible, concealing distaste at the sight of Elaine's crewpeople's exposed bare skins. She brightly replied, "Welcome, `Starfollower'! I am Ariaou, a bard of Meetpoint, the station's representative. How may we help you?"

Amaterasu's eyes widened as she took in the scene. "You speak a dialect of our Common Language, yet there's not a true human among your numbers! How can this be? Are you alien species, part of a human federation?"

Ariaou replied cautiously, "From where and when did `Starfollower' depart? Much has changed since humans were dominant in the galaxy."

"We departed Noveaumonde, 5305 UDY, some time after our world joined the Commonwealth." Elaine looked reluctant to go on in further details.

The feline bard explained the story of the Owned People and the colony ships that escaped Ragnarok, aided by the Compassionate, to settle the Tangled Web nebula. "Remarkable," Amaterasu exclaimed when she finished. "Alone in an entire galaxy, so we created our own alien species. And yet our race died out, thousands of years ago, and only our gene-engineered creations survived us..."

The feline bard sensed irritation in some of the members of the council at the implied belittlement of "creations". "What do you seek here," she asked quickly. "Why have you come to the Meetpoint System?"

"We picked up your station's broadcasts as artificial signals, and homed in on them, hoping to obtain repairs and resupplying. Thousand-year voyages can be exhausting, you know." Elaine smiled wryly.

Ariaou remained suspicious. "And what will you do then?"

"We'll continue searching for an inhabitable world, far from your own youthful civilization, and try to start a colony."

It was plausible, reasonable even. But Ariaou suspected hidden motives behind Captain Elaine Amaterasu's actions. "I'm sure you understand that we must take certain precautions. `Starfollower', please hold your position, and we'll send a courier to survey your ship's condition and deliver our decision."

"Understood. We await your messenger anxiously," Amaterasu replied. "This is `Starfollower', over and out."

The viewscreen went silently dark, to be supplanted by an excited buzzing between the members of the council. Karikhen rested a reassuring paw on Ariaou's left shoulder as Zaharis hissed softly. "Well done. But now we must send the messenger, and the courier. Whose life shall we risk? What if they lie?"

"I'll go." Ariaou said quietly. "Call a convocation of all the worlds. I'll give you my report from on board their ship."

At that moment, the screens blanked and filled with images of Rhadon, but a Rhadon far different from the wolf Ariaou knew, radiating authority. His eyes were flat, devoid of the warmth and depth of soul she'd seen a short while ago.

"I have declared a state of emergency. As empowered by our treaty, the Hellsgate Second Fleet assumes right of jurisdiction over the intruder. For your safety, our personnel on Meetpoint will provide police protection." Simultaneously, black-uniformed, mirror-helmeted soldiers stepped into the council chamber and held heavy plasma rifles at the ready.

Zaharis hissed, "The Council has appointed its representative, and its representative has spoken. How can you justify speaking for Meetpoint?" Behind him, the others present clamored and shouted.

Rhadon spoke, ignoring their protests, "The Council is dissolved for the duration. Until this emergency is over, I appoint Secretary Duvan Gunnersson Meetpoint Director pro-tem." Betrayal! Shock ran down Ariaou's spine, causing her tail to lash angrily.

Pandemonium surged as Rhadon listed other orders that his soldiers would be enforcing, placing Meetpoint under martial law. As Rhadon's list of directives ended and the viewscreens went blank, Duvan walked up to the podium. He was a lightly built otter standing upright, his fur silver with age, anachronistic wire-rim spectacles dangling over his button nose.

He pressed a button, causing his visage to be spread across not only the screens in the chamber, but the ones throughout Meetpoint Station. His voice boomed over the public speakers, surprisingly loud and stentorian for such a slight person.

"As of three days ago, citizens, the Meetpoint system was invaded by human renegades. I regret the necessity for harsh action," he spoke. "Yet in this time of crisis, we must take actions to protect ourselves. Our patrol fleet is already proceeding to the border of the Oort cloud, where they will intercept the enemy."

Duvan Gunnersson's gaze turned dark, his spectacles glinting and his whiskers twitching angrily. "Yet worse, we may have agents within our midst, who would work to help these aliens. For this reason, I am placing Professor Karikhen K'ris'fer under house arrest. All his current appointees' authority are revoked for the time being. Other members of the current government are being investigated at this moment."

Ariaou gasped at the otter's words. Professor Karikhen merely bowed his head acquiescingly as the soldiers came to escort him away, his tail limply dangling. Other council members snarled and growled unhappily, but in the face of the superior force of Rhadon's troops, they could do nothing.

The remainder of Duvan's directives passed in a blur. Halfway through Gunnersson's organization of a committee to study power usage, Ariaou walked out along with most of the remaining council members. Not having Karikhen's personal skimmer keys, she caught a passing bus and rode it to his home.

Ariaou looked out the windows of the bus to see Meetpoint's society continuing to operate normally. Yet here and there, crowds of people gathered around news channels that continued to broadcast reports of Rhadon's and Duvan's seizure of Meetpoint government by force. They protested angrily until dispersed by the black-uniformed soldiers and told to return to their homes.

Hologram street signs flashed by one by one, the bulkheads merging into a single blurry line. Ariaou watched them flicker as she remembered fondly her first visit to Karikhen's home. To fill in the time, to bring herself a measure of cheer, she took her shimmerlyre, drawing curious looks and sounds of admiration from the other passengers, and began playing a light song, putting her memories to verse. The notes sang forth, tinkling over each other in gay melody, each one perfectly formed.

She'd been a young feline, still kittenish in manners, when she was told she would be taking her journeyship education under the famed Professor K'ris'fer's supervision. Anxiously, she stepped up to the small, modest cluster of bubbles that formed his home, stood in front of the round oak door that formed its entrance, past a row of the Cherry Orchard residential area's namesakes. Fragrant pink blossoms drifted past her whiskers and nose as she rapped on the antique door knocker.

The door opened to reveal a mature red fox dressed in a kimono, his tail fluffy and white-tipped, his ears cocked rakishly. He invited her in, and before she had time to be nervous, she was holding a cup of mint tea and a plate of home baked sugar cookies, and telling the story of her life to Professor Karikhen. They became friends quickly, her bright music and youthful exuberance lending color to his days and his knowledge and wisdom guiding her through life.

Three months later, it was to K'ris'fer's house that Ariaou ran, a red and gold edged envelope clutched in her paws, tears streaming down her whiskers. The surprised fox held her as she sobbed, then took the envelope from her unresisting grasp and read the message within. His gaze widened as he read the official letter. "Killed by terrorists while en route here on the starliner `Queen's Ransom'? Alas, my poor Ariaou, twelve is far too young to lose your parents."

"They're gone forever, and they won't ever come back," the young girl wailed helplessly. Her eyes quivered with the promise of more tears.

Karikhen held her chin up and directed her attention to the two coins he produced magically, suspended between three of his long fingers. "Watch this."

Tempted by the promise of seeing something new, Ariaou rubbed her eyes to dry them, then focused her attention on Karikhen. The coins glittered in the light coming from an oval stained glass window, the obverse sides Meetpoint's logo of a compass rose inscribed around an open book, the reverse sides marked `Ten Marks' in a cursive, flowing script.

With a sweep of his free hand the fox produced a flower-patterned crimson and gold embroidered scarf, then whisked it past the coins. The young feline gasped to see the coins were gone.

"Vanished, yes, but not for long," the fox said, his bright green eyes laughing. "Watch closely.. They're not in my hands. Nor my sleeves. Nor my feet, or tail." He batted lightly at Ariaou's paws. "Nor my clothes, either, you impudent young kitten. They're right here, in fact." And with that, he pulled the mischevious coins out of the startled cat's ears.

Ariaou smiled a bit at that. Professor K'ris'fer dropped the coins into her paws. "And so it is with your parents. They're not gone, totally, so long as you remember them. They live on in your mind. Remember the good times you had with them."

He spent the rest of the evening showing young Ariaou more of his magic tricks and sleight of hand, evoking some laughs and giggles, and in the morning, she left ready for the daily life of the academy again. With the passage of time, the hurt became a dull sadness. Whenever it threatened to blossom again, she took out the coins to remind herself of his advice.

Ariaou finished on an echoing musical phrase to the applause of the other passengers. Laughing at their pleas for more, she spun ballads from her memories of more innocent days of her childhood until the bus slowed to a stop at the Cherry Orchard stop.

The bard stepped off, looking about to see the familiar neighborhood. Yet an air of neglect surrounded the residential area, visible in the weed-overgrown gardens, the vacancies in smaller homes, and the condition of the streets. Overhead, the sky-blue roof continued to paint the illusion of spacious room, marred by a few cracks running along its length.

Two black-uniformed and mirror-helmeted guards stood outside Karikhen's house, rifles shouldered. They halted Ariaou before she could knock on the door and searched her clothes briskly. The first guard thumbed his communicator, requesting clearance from headquarters, then nodded to the second, who released Ariaou. "Visitors are not permitted for more than two hours at a time," he cautioned.

Karikhen opened the door in response to the first guard's knocking and guided Ariaou into his parlor. "I'm so sorry that your appointment was cancelled, my child," Karikhen said apologetically. "I'm sure you would have acquitted yourself well, had you been given the chance."

Ariaou smiled slightly. "It's you who should feel slighted, Karikhen. You've been steadfastly trustworthy and loyal for years. But have you heard any news of what's happened?"

"Indeed. While I may have been confined to my house, I've not been isolated from the information network. I've asked a few friends to keep me updated. The latest reports are disturbing." The fox frowned, thoughtfully looking at the notepad he carried.

Ariaou scanned the lines of type there while Karikhen continued, "In fact, if the telemetry's correct, not only is Rhadon's fleet moving to intercept `Starfollower', but he's trying to provoke them into hostile action by buzzing the ship with his fighters. Rhadon has also declared that if they penetrate the defense periphery or return fire, he will consider himself free to use tactical nuclear weapons. Thus far, the generation ship continues to ignore all this."

"There must be a way I can get there in time..." Ariaou looked frustratedly at the silver case and the horn that rested within, and at the shimmerlyre that rested on her shoulder.

Professor K'ris'fer appeared thoughtful. "I did mention I had done some preliminary studies. Though I don't have access to the complete Meetpoint libraries or the hardcopies stored in the Amaranth archives, I turned up some ancient songs considered fictional that might apply. In fact..." With a few keystrokes, his table computer produced hardcopy sheets of music.

"One of Maria Mask-Dancer's ballads! But I know all her songs, and I've never seen this one before.."

"That's not surprising, considering it's proscribed to those below the rank of Master Musicians. A curious classification, since it deals with the fairly well known Battle of the Starshell Gap of five hundred years ago."

Settling into a comfortably overstuffed chair, Karikhen continued, "In those days, the nine-world empire of Lyonsfar was a feudal state beginning to emerge into an interstellar industrial age, its government becoming fragmented by the factional conflicts of its nobles. Then King Lyonnes VI died without children, barely three years after his wife was killed by an assassin. A civil war began. The two princes with the largest armadas crushed their opponents over a period of twelve years, eventually meeting at Starshell Gap. There, they unexplicably declared for the young Savinfar, and eventually made him the first of the Regents."

Ariaou skimmed through the pages, her eyes widening as she read. "If this account is true, and all of Maria's songs were, then Savinfar was the last surviving descendant of Lyonnes's line! But how could Maria know that?"

"Shortly after Lyonnes's wife Alira was assassinated, Maria visited and took on her semblance, so that she could give King Lyonnes comfort. Savinfar came from their union."

Karikhen raised a hand to stop Ariaou's curious questions. "Yet Maria's gift was entirely in casting a glamour over her listeners so that she would seem to be whatever she liked. How could she have made her way from the homeworld to the lightyears-distant fleets, when all civilian transport had been interdicted?"

The feline bard returned to the beginning pages, recited softly the verses she found within. "A griffon, bright red of wings and green of eyes. A magical winged beast carried her there in but a flicker of an eyelash."

"A Guardian, surely. According to Mask-Dancer, it sang like your Sundancer, and the magic of its songs caused distances to become like nothing. Maria tried to capture the sounds in this ballad, but came away with only a fragile imitation."

"Then the key's lost." Ariaou clenched her paws frustratedly, so close and yet so far from the music she needed. She yelped suddenly as a clawtip caused a drop of blood to well out of her palms.

The professor remained silent a while. "There's a chance, if you remember Sundancer's song of travelling. Perhaps your own musical talent, aided by the shimmerlyre you carry and by the power of Sundancer's horn, can be directed by the Orpheus Sphere. You must go there and sing, until you come across the music that will take you where you wish to go. Or until you fail."

The feline bard nodded, sadly, seriously. "I have to try."

Karikhen rested his hands on Ariaou's shoulders. "Good luck, my child."

Ariaou left with the aged fox's words in her mind, catching the bus without conscious thought. Again holographic street signs flashed past, barely noticed.

The Orpheus Sphere! Innocently glistening like a geode within, cut into a sonic mirror, each facet perfectly carved according to sophisticated mathematics. It would catch a singer's every inflections and reflect them back changed, hundreds and thousands of times. Singers hoping to find fame or fortune within its depth had been driven insane before. Or raised to new levels of genius.

No one had dared to venture into the Orpheus Sphere since Maria Mask-Dancer, those five centuries ago. Who would tamper with wild magic?

When she got off from the bus, she found none of the regular security waiting at the airlock, nor the black-uniformed soldiers who had assumed their police and patrol duties. With heart pounding she stepped into the pressurized corridor that went the few meters from Meetpoint's outermost shell to the Orpheus Sphere. She programmed the controls to initiate the warmup sequence in two minutes, strapped on the bootjets, and stepped in.

Ariaou floated into the middle of the geode, watching light glint from the faraway facets. The sounds of her bootjets faded away softly as she stretched quietly in the exact center, floating in zero gravity. Soon complete silence reigned, punctuated only by the sounds of the feline's gentle breathing.

Drawing on her recollection of Maria Mask-Dancer's ballad, Ariaou took her shimmerlyre, the motion setting her into a slow spin with her tail following behind. Her paws stroked the strings, letting loose a quiet tinkling stream of notes that wove over themselves in the opening chords. Hidden lights responded to the music, flickering in rhythmic patterns.

Slowly, gradually Ariaou spun the image of the far distant towers of Lyonsfar's capital city, Lyonhelm. The earliest sunrise crept along the outermost walls, turning the sky midnight blue, golden notes shivering in midair in complex echoes. A city awoke slowly, the hubbub of the people rising out of subtle dissonances.

Ariaou sang, her voice purring with a soft resonance that became an underlying harmony, evoking the slight winged figure of the Mask-Dancer. Maria stood atop the tallest spire of the palace, her long white hair falling over her silvery cloak that tinkled and flowed about her ankles, her bright grey eyes looking out onto the city below; her translucent butterfly blue-gold wings spread to catch the wind. Rising daylight shimmered about her feet, and cool breezes ruffled her cloak.

The feline bard sang Maria's plea, the ancient dialect of Lyonsfar stately and melodious from her tongue. In answer to Maria's call, a proud gryphon answered, his wings shading from sunlight-orange to flame-red, and cried out in a voice of iron and copper. The sun silhouetted them, a sylph beckoning to the half-lion, half-eagle griffin, begging for assistance that she might stop a senseless civil war, and prevent millions from dying needlessly.

At last the gryphon bowed his head, lowered his wings that Maria might ride. He sang a majestic song, like a whalesong or a rainbow made material in steel and glass as he swept his wings and leapt aloft into the air.

Light glinted off the curve of the Orpheus Sphere, the sheer energy of Ariaou's version of the gryphon's theme multiplying and cascading. She drew upon her memories of Sundancer so long ago in the golden forest, weaving his travel theme with Maria Mask-Dancer's ballad and seeking out the music and repeated phrases that seemed right to her. Waves of sound battered against her body from all directions.

With each new height, Sundancer's horn glowed with greater light, shining like a miniature sun from the necklace that dangled about her neck. Ariaou quested for the key that would open its powers, then found it. Time suspended as her voice, her shimmerlyre, the very walls of the Orpheus Sphere all united in a single pure note that broke down walls of space and time.

Reality cracked in a multitude of rainbows and Ariaou stepped through to someplace else.

She arrived in confusion. The bridge of the `Starfollower' shone red under the emergency lights, crewmembers scanning their displays intently or running back and forth on the catwalks high above. Viewscreens flickered with battle graphics, plotting the incoming fighter squadrons. As Ariaou glanced about, the control board next to her erupted into flames.

The feline jumped back from the fire, falling against Captain Elaine Amaterasu who surprisedly put a hand to her officer's sidearm. Other crewmembers started, turning to watch the strange cat and their captain.

"You're the negotiator we spoke with," Elaine exclaimed. "How did you get onto the bridge? Why did your ships open fire?"

"They've attacked already?" Ariaou asked. She picked herself up and straightened her clothes out. The horn had fallen to the floor, its light dwindling back to a length of cool moonlight; this she replaced in its silver carrying case.

"Didn't you know?" Amaterasu studied the feline's expression, then sighed. "We were half a light-minute from the inner edge of the Oort cloud when their fighters started buzzing us, then they started firing about half an hour ago. Now they're threatening to use tactical nuclear weapons on us if we don't back off."

Security guards approached, their function obvious in their armored uniforms and their heavier guns. The captain came up to Elaine and saluted, his complexion darker and his hair pure black. "Shall we remove this... alien saboteur from the bridge?"

"No, Captain Amaterasu! You're being attacked by a hostile faction that's taken over Meetpoint Station. It's their forces that are trying to draw you into battle. None of this is our fault; we would have dealt with you in good faith!" Ariaou's bright green-gold eyes pleaded with Elaine for time, and for consideration of her words.

Elaine studied the feline bard for a timeless moment, while her crew returned to their stations, while `Starfollower' shuddered under the impact of Rhadon's missiles. Her own dark brown eyes glinted. "I wish I could trust you, but we've been betrayed by nonhumans too many times. We trust no one. Take her to confinement; we'll continue as I directed and trust to our defenses."

A massive jolt shook the ship, causing the crew, their captain, and Ariaou herself to stumble and fall. Viewscreens began blinking on and off, some distorting to static, others showing readouts on the damage inflicted to `Starfollower's' systems. "That was a five megaton nuclear burst, five hundred kilometers off," a red-haired officer shouted. "The EMP scrambled our drive controls. They shut off automatically, or else we'd all be smeared against the walls like jelly!"

All business now, Elaine snapped, "What about our other systems? I want a damage report, section by section. Main gun sections, prepare to open fire on the enemy fighters."

Ariaou picked herself up, thought fast as she saw the guards doing likewise. With nowhere to run, she controlled her rising panic and took up her shimmerlyre, and began to sing what came to mind.

She did not know the ancient words to the lullabye that she sang, nor the sweet, soft music that underlay them. It was the same one that she'd sung on Ryme, when first she took up the lyre, her paws flying to patterns of strings remembered though she'd never studied it, the same one that had had the power to bring a ghost to forget its vengeance. Its beauty was fey in a way that no modern music could match.

Indecipherable though its words might be, the lullabye's effect on Elaine's crew was instant. Through the entire generation ship, within each bulkheaded area, the ethereal music cut short the damage reports and panicked calls for assistance. The security guards hesitated, looking to the captain for their directions.

Captain Elaine Amaterasu listened also; with a small hand motion, she signalled the guards to return to their posts. Her dark brown eyes glistened with memories suddenly recalled by Ariaou's evocative song, her features losing years as she relaxed her customary frown. She whispered to herself, though Ariaou's sensitive ears caught it, "It's beautiful... The music of my ancestors... Yet I thought it'd been lost long ago, when my parents died."

Ariaou gained confidence as she held the crew's attention spellbound with her music. Reaching the end of the lullabye, she improvised, drawing upon her musical history to spin the old songs of reunion. Meant for the colony worlds rising to interstellar travel, to bind them together despite their mutual distrust and fear of outsiders, she improvised instead a message of camaraderie between species. The crew of the `Starfollower' listened, held captive by her voice.

Ariaou spoke to them of their differences, a void that, try as it might, could not be eliminated. Though to them, her fur and her feline ancestry might be repulsively different, their own bare skins and their blunt teeth seemed to her things to be pitied. Beneath exterior appearance, she sang, in sweet verse and soft music, there rested a being worth knowing, respecting, befriending. And she spoke to them of their similarities, of value placed on beauty and truth, honor and creativity.

Finally, exhausted, Ariaou rested her shimmerlyre in the crook of one arm and bowed her head, waiting to accept what decision Captain Elaine Amaterasu might make. A moment passed; another nuclear explosion shook the ship, though not so hard. With stunned expressions, the crewmembers returned to their duties, and the damage reports began pouring in again.

"You sing beautifully, Ariaou," Elaine said at last. "And your message is one to which we might open our hearts. I...we... had forgotten that things could be better, that there might be times when we could... trust others..."

"What if it's a trap?" a crewman asked; young, bold, fair of hair and brash. "If this cat is really some kind of saboteur?"

Captain Amaterasu replied, "Trusting has to begin somewhere, Lieutenant. But, tell me, even were we to turn aside, how do you plan to force the attackers to hold their fire?"

"Let me speak with them," Ariaou replied. Drawing upon her knowledge of Tangled Web protocol, she suggested, "Request a ceasefire, under the Mark of the Lion Humbled, and they'll answer. If they don't, they become outlaws, to be hunted by all the nebula's forces."

The captain and her communications officer exchanged words. The message was sent. It took moments for the reply to arrive, an enigmatic message: Ariaou. You have slain one wolf with your powers of song; you shall not have another. Leave behind your instruments, and I shall send a courier to take you to where we first met. With respect, Rhadon.

Ariaou stood stunned for a moment while Elaine considered the message. "I do hope you weren't counting on your powers of sweet song alone to carry the day, my dear feline," she commented drily. "He doesn't sound friendly to me."

"Perhaps there's a way..." the bard replied. "I'd rather chance a face-to-face meeting, even if my life was at stake, than let your lives and theirs be risked in battle."

The minutes passed slowly in a dead silence. Rhadon's fighters ceased to sally forth in their attempts to goad `Starfollower' into returning fire. The dotted paths on the bridge's viewscreens slowly approached each other, the single massive generation ship moving directly toward a horde of far smaller cruisers and destroyers. `Rhadon's Promise' launched a lone shuttle on a high-acceleration path.

The screen flashed the estimated arrival time of the shuttle, flickering from ten minutes to nine, then eight. Captain Elaine barked orders as her crew set about repairing the damage done by the nuclear bursts, directing repair crews to the engine control conduits. "Until those're fixed," she explained to Ariaou, "We'll be unable to navigate or even brake our ship. There's no telling how long it'll take to repair them. If you fail, we'll be forced to use all our weapons systems to defend ourselves, and strike back at your worlds."

"And no matter how long it takes, should it come to that, our forces would certainly destroy your own ship, and with it, the only remaining humans in this galaxy." Ariaou sighed. "This is our only chance."

The courier made fast to a sally port that adjusted its grapple to seal tightly about the shuttle's airlock, compensating for the incompatible docking systems. Ariaou entrusted her shimmerlyre to Elaine's custody and bid farewell to her. The captain of the generation ship saluted back as the feline stepped in with the assistance of the waiting lupine crewman. The shuttle's airlock irised close as she strapped herself into the high-acceleration couch.

"We'll reach the task force in nine minutes," the crewman commented as he operated the controls. "Captain Rhadon's ordered the fleet to remain at their current distance from the enemy ship."

The courier ship separated from the `Starfollower' and boosted away at high speed, its anti-matter engines producing a long stream of charged hydrogen ions accelerated through its drive. Their acceleration reached the maximum the artificial gravity field could negate, pressing Ariaou back onto the couch; that weight reminded her uncomfortably that her own shimmerlyre had been left behind. The forward viewscreen showed a rapidly approaching swarm of bees that grew into long, sleekly deadly warships.

Ariaou's pilot reversed the courier at the midpoint of their flight, using the engines to brake the tiny ship's velocity. They coasted by the missile destroyers that led Rhadon's task force and their fighter escorts, each showing up only as a blip on the viewscreen, their positions delayed by the speed of light. The path of the shuttle converged precisely, as if drawn by a magnet, onto the flagship.

`Rhadon's Promise' loomed large out of the shadows of space, its sudden tines of gleaming mirror-bright metal punctuated by weapons clusters. The pilot controlled the courier deftly, using the compressed hydrogen jets to snuggle the ship into one of the recessed docking bays without the assistance of the cruiser's grapples. He grinned, his fangs clean white, proud of a job well done.

Two waiting guards, dressed in black uniforms but without the mirrored helmets of those that had taken Meetpoint, escorted Ariaou out of the courier and onto a waiting maglev cart; one was a silver-furred vulpine, the other a mink still in winter white. To her questions, they only replied, "Rhadon is expecting you in his stateroom."

With a sense of deja vu, Ariaou stood once again in front of Rhadon's stateroom. She stepped forward hesitantly, and confronted the wolf that stood at the other side of the room.

Prince Rhadon Mordenkainen looked terrible. His eyes burned, their once dark brown irises now almost entirely black pupils, and his reddish brown fur was unkempt from lack of grooming and from the sweat of his mental exertions. He tensed, almost crouched over, his tight commander's uniform betraying his battle stance, and to Ariaou's keen sight, his fatigue.

"Who would have thought that my betrayer would be one with the voice of an angel?" he asked, rhetorically, his gaze burning into Ariaou's eyes. The feline restrained herself from quailing, showing visible fear, but she felt sure that the wolf's heightened senses could smell her distress. "It might be better if I were simply to slay you now, eliminating a threat; yet by the Mark of the Humbled Lion, I am forced to guest you honorably."

Ariaou raised her paws in a display of appeasement. "How could I hurt you? I seek only to speak with you, to arrange a peace so that no lives need be lost."

Rhadon grinned wolfishly, no humour visible in his cruelly gleaming fangs. Determination ran like steel beneath his voice, still eerily normal, honed to an aristocrat's manners. "You yourself are a weapon, innocent though you may seem. Were I to give in, to permit these human invaders to survive, then in a generation's time, or in many's, it does not matter, this nebula would once again be enslaved to their whims. I shall not permit this to happen, and so they must be destroyed, before they can even begin."

The feline approached slowly, paws still outstretched in a show of defenselessness. She thought fast, remembering their conversation only hours gone by, yet an eternity ago. "You live for honor, for service to your people. Yet you've betrayed these both."

"How is that?" Rhadon looked confused, his rock-steady countenance beginning to crack.

"You betrayed your honor when you violated Meetpoint's sanctity, capturing it by force. And you betrayed your people, for they will be forced to answer for your actions, for every life that was lost in your actions." Ariaou's gaze was steady as she took one of Rhadon's trembling paws in her own. Rhadon's muscles tautened, his muzzle quivering.

"No," the wolf snarled, extending long sharp claws. "You are trying to confuse me with your words. I was foolish to permit you to speak, an error that I shall remedy with your death. Then I shall direct my ships to destroy the humans quickly and efficiently."

"I'm sorry, Rhadon... But I have to protect Meetpoint, and the humans, for they're innocent of any crimes of history. Any way that I can." Ariaou reached down to open the silvery case that held Sundancer's horn, revealing the long shaft of cool moonlight. Rhadon's eyes narrowed at the apparent weapon; he swiped at the case, sending it flying from her hands, the horn arcing through air in a perfect parabola to clatter on the floor.

The feline dived after it, scooped it up in her paws like a dagger. The wolf leapt after her, his black eyes swallowing her up in their depths as he closed in, his legs propelling him across the room efficiently. Time slowed as Ariaou met his gaze fiercely, tensing her muscles. She snarled, exposing her own even, shining white fangs.

They met in a suspended moment of glittering claws and flashing horn.

Ariaou fell in a heap of fur. She gradually became aware of a warm wetness from her right side, looked down to see blood welling slowly, then back behind her, where Rhadon struggled upright. The moonlight spire of Sundancer's horn gleamed from his side, barely half its length visible; she vaguely remembered it being ripped out of her paws by the force of his passing. Weaponless, instrumentless, Ariaou waited calmly for whatever fate might bring.

She was, consequently, surprised when he spoke in a completely calm voice. "My apologies. I'm afraid I have not been... quite myself." Rhadon removed the horn from his side, tearing strips of cloth from his uniform to bandage his wound and Ariaou's. "Honor demands that I atone for the shame and injustice I have caused. I am at your service."

Ariaou sighed, too tired to feel exuberance. "Let's call your fleet home to Meetpoint, and invite `Starfollower' to parley." She reclined into Rhadon's supporting arms and fell asleep.

She awoke several days later in a comfortable old-fashioned wooden bed later to Professor Karikhen K'ris'fer's smiling vulpine face. Captain Elaine Amaterasu stood nearby, carrying her shimmerlyre, and Prince Rhadon Mordenkainen cradled Sundancer's horn in his arms. They exchanged wary smiles. "It's over," Karikhen exclaimed happily. "We've signed a treaty with the humans."

Elaine nodded. A rare smile graced her aged features. "Many years may pass before humans can be accepted into your society, but we'll bide our time. Until then, Meetpoint Academy's agreed to let us settle an uninhabited moon of the system, and will send students to study with us on a foreign exchange basis. We'll do likewise, and eventually our cultures will be able to intermingle freely."

"And what of you, Karikhen?" Ariaou asked. She sat up partway, stopping as a twinge ran through her side.

"You're an amazing bard," the fox said with a laugh. "I was cleared of all charges the moment Rhadon rescinded all his orders, but the government was forced to make a public statement because of that song of yours you made up while in the bus. I'm a popular figure now! And you're going to be seeing some royalties soon, I believe..." He shook his head disbelievingly.

The feline smiled tiredly. "That's good... And you, Rhadon? What has your homeworld to say of all this?"

Rhadon reached out with a paw, touched Ariaou's. His eyes glinted softly, once again warm brown. "Officially, I no longer exist, having fallen under the Curse of Lord Moreah, even though you healed me of that; I've been discharged from my duties and disowned by my family. Unofficially? I plan to study here at Meetpoint, now that I have more time ahead of me. And I'd like to get to know a certain bard better."

Conrad Wong is a CS student at U. C. Berkeley, about to graduate and face the terrifying world of "Real Life". He is not looking forward to it. Except, that is, to having more money to spend on the necessities of life: new science fiction and fantasy books, anthropomorphic comics (Conrad's particularly fond of `Rhudiprrt'), and getting permanent net access. His hobbies include feeble attempts at writing (one of which you see above), drawing, computer games, and MUDs.

cwong@cory.berkeley.edu