The gentleman tugged at his collar as he looked out over the floor, then to his friend. “Thank you for dragging me out. Would have been a shame to miss it. So, who is this year’s beneficiary for the Claret Occasion?”

“The Genesee Refugee Fund.”

“Oh, what about Aquari Home Recovery?”

“Well you see, there are still lives to be saved on Genesee. With five new red zones, we have to practically depopulate the planet, which you can imagine takes time. We haven’t depopulated anywhere since Hirylien, which – had pretty much happened already.” He sipped from his wine glass. “And not for generations before that. Geologists have gone from stumped to overwhelmed in their attempts at prediction. So, crisis before recovery.”

“I understand that.” The gentleman inhaled sharply. “Bright Wave’s up to perform, isn’t she? I’m glad she’s well enough to do the occasion this year.”

His friend with the white ruffled collar nodded. “Her performances are a pleasure and a privelege.”

The two wandered from the upper tier where they’d left silent auction bids, nodding to others passing by in red and white. They refilled their cups at a lower tier, and made their way up an aisle to take seats. Below on the floor in the center, dancers were finishing the Mobius Spiral to the sound of a brass ensemble. Applause rose at the end as people filtered up the slopes and steps.

An oval of light burst into glow on the now cleared floor, and the plane within elevated, revealing the lifting stage walls and spiral staircase. The double doors in the side were revealed, and parted.

An Aquari man emerged and placed himself atop the stage, facing in. “That’s a Lead Composer.”

“That’s THE Lead Composer. She brought a sendsinger?” They looked at each other.

Fleeting Shade folded his legs to kneel. The amphitheater had gone quiet, but for a deep bass wave washing in like breath. The place turned dim but for a glow remaining at the door. She emerged shrouded in mist, moving by her tentacles and tendrils, carapace trailing behind her. Up the stairs her body rolled, the mist growing as it mingled with the bass in ripples. Bright Wave curled crouching opposite the sendsinger, facing in.

From where she stayed, she moved a figure around in the mist like a shadow. The bass rose to the beat of a resounding wall. Flashes revealed columns like a maze for the figure to weave through as it grew with the sound.

It wove its way to the center, where it rested against something bright. The mist clarified into luminous points. More Aquarii came through the door and up, to crouch around the edge, facing out. There were eight, and their echoing sounds only occasionally overlapped.

In a hollow, windy voice Bright Wave spoke a two-note phrase, and the bright something in the center showed color. She did it again, and so did another of the crouching Aquarii. Again and again the relay echo grew, until the pulse moved continuously.

The central figure gripped the bright something, pulling itself up. All of them rose. The pulse changed, and the points of light expanded to fill the entire amphitheater. The music turned clear and loud.

The gentleman watching from the seats waved his finger to encircle the performers. “Those are all sendsingers.”

“Yes, indeed.”

Then the language began. It was amusing! No one had any idea what they were saying, but it was certainly funny. As people around the amphiteater laughed, that became the central chorus of the music.

Sun rose, shining on the bright something. Its light condensed into a swirling trunk, the glow branching upward and spreading out. One by one, the eight sendsingers visited. It pulsed and sang differently for each; and as they walked away, so did they. All eight returned to sit around it together. The pulse continued as they watched the branching light, their music gathered illustrated above it.

The door glowed again, and eight more sendsingers walked in to fill the places around the stage, facing out.

The gentleman swirled his finger at this in maddening circles. “Are all of them?”

His friend looked agog. “Well, yes. And that must be nearly half of them.” He gripped his armrests and looked behind him as though he could see the sky. “How is traffic running right now?” He noticed other audience members in discreet communication. He sank back into his seat a little.

The cloud above reflected those sitting beneath. A color portal engulfed the trunk and branches, reaching the ground. Bright Wave rose and walked into the center of it, and it became a swirling mirror with sides. The inside eight rose together and stepped through.

In the amphitheater, the atmosphere changed. It seemed any point could lead to any other. These pathways became traveled, by few and then by many. If people touched them, they changed. The eight who stepped through found one of the eight around the edge. They sat back to back and twined their tentacles, one facing in, the other facing out. The pathways extended beyond the amphitheater.

In the center Bright Wave sat, leaning against the tree, which was there. She reached up to touch the billowing sheets of motion, twined and hanging from the branches. Great gusts flowed inward through the sendsingers, to the branches and trunk where Bright Wave could touch them, and she weaved. The air was full of Aquari melodies, clear from eight different kinds of far away.

“Could this be live?” he asked, holding down his white ruffles. At the word live, an unseen group of Aquarii echoed the word in confirmation. Live. He gasped, and his was not the only one.

The sendsingers began switching pairs, counter-rotating. Human voices became a loud addition, and the sound of a dragon.

From a vantage point in the city, Toller watched the amphitheater surrounded in glowing whorls. If he cocked an ear, he could even hear it. His chuckle seemed to fit right in with the music.

Then something broke. It was wrong immediately. People could no longer hear their voices correctly, and when they grabbed for the threads, they weren’t there. It was the frantic feeling of something important missing. The bright branches fell apart and floated away. The sendsinger’s channels fluttered. The trunk disappeared, down to the ground until there was only a heap in which Bright Wave sat. The weaving in her hands threatened to disappear, but she sent ends of it to the Aquarii surrounding her. They held to it as though suspended. The points in the sky reappeared above them.

It was like flipping through a yearbook, or being at a royal roast, or attending his own funeral. A little like all three. It was serious – every one would draw blood if allowed, but Raev remembered them more clearly than suspected. His past decisions were walking up to greet him, and he knew them very well.

The critical ones, everybody knew about. It started a long time ago, and he learned quickly how to use notoriety to his advantage. Some in particular created a lot of requisite damage, that he wished weren’t so even as he made it happen. It was pointless telling them he didn’t have horns – after all, he wore them so well. True, for some time his thirst for retribution could hardly be slaked. But it had taken him all those years to figure out why.

When he acquired that first gargantuan sum of funds off the Oligarchy of Tamakopa, it was enough to shut down companies and end towns. He’d known who would greet the citizens beyond the town borders, and now he learned how life had treated them. Ultimately well, he thought, but he must be held accountable.

There was the one he hated to hear, even though he reminded himself of it all the time. When he didn’t keep her – lost her and everything in one fell swoop, all involved. People had never been more angry with him, and he with himself. Here he paid probably his greatest price.

After that was a lot of boat rocking, and sinkholing. And of course, the disappearance at the prestige. His return still had people fuming, most especially because he had won sympathy, and families divided over it.

Certain attributed tidbits, he did not recognize. He didn’t bother making contest, only took in the news as it came to him. The source of his privately connected counsel noted the new information as well.

“They have added to your reputation.”

“Clearly. Though I don’t mind, as the time for setting things straight is not now. The tall tales are an added layer of distraction, which is fine with me. The truth overshadows them regardless, which is why they slip right in.”

“How will they hang you for your current move?”

“They can’t yet. However this centershow works out, they still need me to get them out of the corner. The King Ascendant and Queen haven’t released a reverse agent. We got it from them after all, though we improved on it. I suspect what final option they’re narrowing down to as far as handling this. I don’t think I’m prepared to play lab rat to satisfy the cameras. They have days before a toll begins to mount, as far as they know.” This final indictment was difficult, as its inconclusive nature brought everyone to edge.

Raev Sturlusson heard it all again in the Queen Ascendant’s voice as she announced the collected statements.

The panoramic door drew upward, revealing row after row of hard gazes landing squarely on the prisoner and his two keepers. The clamoring hiss fell silent. The three traveled up the center aisle toward the hearing platform ahead. From within the green-tinted keeper’s field, Sturlusson received their suppressed snarls. He looked up at the ceiling full of recording lights, the fixated heads around him, and the arbiter’s tiers beyond the rest. Passing the front row of assembly seats was like breaking a runner’s tape.

At the pause before the platform, he was greeted by the three judges, and the King and Queen Ascendant above them. They all went through the requisite gestures. He eyed the empty witness’ stand, and opposite that, to the right of the arbiter’s tiers, the large screen where the Queen’s face watched the proceedings.

As he stepped to the platform and the keepers attached the field to it, he felt nudges at the tip of either shoulder over his burn scars. Sturlusson glanced up again, and behind his field of vision he pinpointed two watching presences. Their communication with him was more or less clear.

“I loathe them, and watch this only under duress.”

“I sort of know what you mean.” He looked to the medallion above the tiers, which read Justice Is Served In Many Ways.

“Over the next few days, we will hear from witnesses who will present accounts of your doings. There are many in this hall who have waited some time for the opportunity, though their statements must remain brief, as must your rebuttals. You’ve opted against the presence of a legal interpreter, so you are responsible for adhering to the guidelines of reply.” He received a veiled stare from King Ascendant Vario in his red arbiter’s garb.

“From the witnesses’ statements and your replies, we will build and subsequently examine the case to determine your sentence. For all that you yourself have taken credit for, you can expect no less than a great period of suffering.” At this, Raev Sturlusson blinked slowly. He heard a hissing chuckle of irony.

Mireille loaded her bowl with greens as Margeaux took her seat.

“Glad you could join us, dear,” Charlotte intoned, leaning forward to fill Margeaux’s glass.

“My pleasure. Where is Queen Celeste?” she asked, looking around.

“The Queen pardoned herself for other matters,” replied Vario. Mireille rotated the greens to Margeaux’s place and dipped into the capers and onions.

Charlotte smiled, and asked “Have you spoken with Soleil in the last couple days?”

“Yeah!” Margeaux flashed a grin and laughed. “What a relief it is. I expected her to sound croaky, but it’s her very same voice, only a little quiet.” Charlotte nodded.

Mireille sampled her melange. “She hasn’t been eating with us,” she shrugged, “so.”

“Oh, I know. It makes sense she’s withdrawn, considering. It’s strange as to when Soleil started speaking again, isn’t it.” Margeaux sipped on her drink. “At least that’s all there was to it, and he’s off to get what he deserves.”

Charlotte pressed her lips shut and looked at her husband. “It was a surprise, yes,” said Vario. “One that I was glad to see. I was only expecting she would learn from the encounter as necessary, but her speech at that moment was revelatory.”

“Can’t argue with that,” said Mireille. She tipped a ramekin of honeygrub dressing over her bowl and cracked pepper over it. Everyone continued to help themselves.

“It had been a while since we two caught a sunset together.” Margeaux smiled as she nibbled.

“Here’s to many more,” toasted Charlotte, raising her glass. Vario returned the gesture, and the girls followed suit.

“I’m being transferred to Ionos. They’ll put me on show shortly. There’s nothing you wouldn’t already know.”

“Your sham trial is not a concern. We can feel them meddling with the relay amplifier. Are you ensuring they are properly misdirected?”

“Someone’s making sure they’re properly misdirecting themselves. They wouldn’t recognize the technology for some time anyhow, given their own devices. The Imperium may have picked up some Vedani trash, but the cutting edge, combined with your additions, is outside their scope. The best researchers on the subject are currently occupied with other things. Is the power accrual going smoothly?”

“Certainly. Nothing is interfering with the core, which will soon be drained.”

“Which is… devastating. I hear the survival rate has been very good.”

“We’ve given them plenty of time where we could. But forces operate as they must.”

“That’s good to know.”