02 Quetzals Flock

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
"My Lord Quetzal is most kind."
He dumped an armful of smocks on the table and backed away.
"I trust these are suitable, my Lord."
He waited for Kane to make an inspection.
"These are most suitable, Nijah."
The old man almost straightened up.
"A great feast is being prepared in your honour, Lord Quetzal. In due course, I
will return to escort you."
He bowed and scraped himself out of the room, leaving Kane to turn over the
selection of tunics. He said to no one in particular.
"I'm going to pick one of the fancy ones - especially if there's going to be a
party."
One in particular, took his eye. It was heavily ornamented with precious stones
- and it had the shape of a pentacle embroidered on the chest. Kane had the feeling
that Urartu had ordered its inclusion, knowing very well that it would prove
irresistible for the occasion. The Bole was made to double as a barber, removing his
beard and trimming his hair. Eventually, resplendent in the selected tunic, he awaited
the arrival of Nijah. There was some delay and his stomach developed a resentful
growl.
Eventually, Nijah appeared at the entrance. His eyes widened appreciatively.
"My Lord looks magnificent!"
He followed the old man through the warren of passages, stairs and chambers.
He knew he would be hopelessly lost if he didn't have a guide. There was a distant
clamour of noise, it wasn't hostile, just a lot of people talking together. Nijah stepped
aside at the entrance to a huge cavern. Its origin was obviously volcanic and probably
the result of a great gaseous bubble blown in the molten rock during a long-distant
eruption. Contorted shapes of rock bulged from the roof and the walls. The floor was
level and was now occupied by a great crowd of people. Light from dozens of flares
cast flickering shadows across their hushed faces. Young, old, adults and children had
suddenly become silent when they saw him.
Kane paused in the entrance, the effect was subconsciously theatrical. The
Pentacle at his neck had persistently refused to remain hidden under the neckline of
his tunic. It gleamed in the ruddy light of the flares. There was a roar, an acclamation.
It made him shrink back momentarily, but it touched an emotion in him which was
hard to describe. They knew him, they honoured him - they loved him - but he only
saw strangers.
Nijah escorted him to a raised section of the floor. They walked through
smiling excited faces. Kane could see anticipation, eagerness. Something was
expected of him. He groped around within his mind for the other man, who had been
content to remain dormant until that time. He whispered to him in his mind.
"Do something for these people, I have nothing!"
On the outside, he lived the part, smiling, acknowledging the acclaim -
inwardly, he was faced with a stubborn silence.
Whatever was to be demanded from him was not immediate. Great platters of
food gave out a rich, inviting aroma. His stomach went into raptures of delight. As
soon as he was seated and without further ceremony, those who had gathered fell
upon the food like vultures. It was probably an unfortunate comparison, seeing that
they bore the stamp of the hawk in their high cheekbones and long, thin noses.
There could be no doubt that these were the Aquiline strain mentioned by
Hauptmeier so many hundreds of years earlier, on a planet orbiting a yellow sun
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