Genji winced inwardly as the soloist hit another wrong note. By his count that was twenty-five in this piece alone. Add that to the mistakes in the previous three solos and it added up to--.

Genji, a mental voice admonished him. The Ntaro are trying to honor us.

Better that they honor the music, he sent back to the man sitting beside him, and torture it no longer. A proficient musician, Genji found most amateur musical entertainments acceptable at best, excruciating at worst. The nervous young sons and daughters pushed forward to display their talents before the gathered Heads of House, their Ladyes, and other important visitors tended to perform poorly. This evening’s entertainment was proving worse than most. Ntaro voices were not suited to the program of Byshen chorales they had chosen.

Still, you must credit them for the attempt. Viir mentally reproved him.

As I credited you? From out of the corner of his eye, Genji saw the flush deepen the copper of Viir’s cheeks. Twenty-three years ago he had heard someone mangling one of his favorite piano concertos and stepped into the practice room to see who it was. At that moment he’d found his Elska bond. While Viir’s playing had improved only marginally over the years, Genji had never regretted their meeting.

Nor have I, minn ást.

The soloist finished then, ending the lovers’ mental dialogue. Genji’s applause was wholehearted and the girl preened a bit at his enthusiasm. He was no telepath or precognitive, but he was sure she would spend the next several days lording it over her age mates that she had captured the attention and approval of the off-world representative of House L’u-cif-er.

“She’s already preparing her speech,” Viir whispered as they rose from their seats. Normally Viir kept strong shields in place at a social event such as this, but under the circumstances it was necessary that he remain slightly open.

Genji choked back laughter, turning it into a cough as their host Overseer Roghet approached. “You are pleased with this night’s entertainment?” he said. His accent and inflection were off, turning what should have been House Polite Conversational into House Confrontational. Had such an inflection been used by a member of another House, there would have been severe economic repercussions for the Speaker’s Family; however, as Roghet had only been promoted to the position of Stjórnandi of House L’u-cif-er, Vidian Compound three days previously, Genji was inclined to let the matter pass.

In House Formal Polite Genji said, “The effort of the sons and daughters of Ntaro is not unappreciated. It would please this one to hear the songs of Ntaro at some future time.”

Roghet seemed unsure of what the proper response should be. He was a small, dark, round man, a sign that his family were immigrants to Ntaro. He gave the impression of being ready to bounce away like an errant ball at any moment as he nervously bobbed his head.

The awkward silence was broken by a smooth voice. “Chanon, ipakilala imo dumuluaw.”

Genji’s brow raised. The Ntaro language did not have the inflections and tones of Byshen’s A’nth, but there was no mistaking the command.

The speaker’s appearance was what was considered the native Ntaro – willowy, tall and slender, fine sharp features, and dark, glossy skin. This one wore its feather-like mane short, meaning it was a High Councilor of one of Ntaro’s twenty-two administrative districts, probably the one that bordered the L’u-cif-er compound, as it was not the Councilor Genji had been introduced to earlier.

It admires, hates, and fears us. Genji heard Viir’s sending as he bowed to the Ntaro. It will bear watching.

Roghet’s voice bobbled as he performed the introduction. “L’u-cif-er Kara Genji be pleased to know the august Tseeaarr Kia-Kia, High Councilor of Sluren District.” He hesitated as he looked toward Viir then said nothing. Genji did not need to be a telepath to know what the nervous new Overseer was worrying about. Consorts had no standing in Ntaro society. It would be a major breech of etiquette for Roghet to introduce the Ntaro chain-bound to Kia-Kia. As Viir seemed to fill the role of Genji’s consort, he could not be introduced either.

Do you think it would make him feel better to know that no one on Byshen is exactly sure of how to introduce us either?

Genji could feel the mental smirk and trace of annoyance behind Viir’s sending. Probably not, but feel free to discuss it with him at some other time, he sent back, even as he rose from his bow. “High Councilor,” he said.

The Councilor’s name told Genji a great deal. Ntaro names were more a series of clicks, cries, and calls than phonetic sounds. When the planet had dropped its isolationist policies two decades before and actively begun to invite off-world investors, most public officials chose to create secondary names that were easier for off-worlders to use. Those Ntaro who didn’t tended to be part of the small, but still powerful, isolationist faction.

Isolationists also tended to be old Families with old money. Their panimalays were close-knit and slow to embrace change. They were well-educated, but close-minded, if such a contradiction of terms could co-exist, and held on to their beliefs beyond what outsiders saw as all reason. They were in many ways like the Seven Houses that ruled Byshen’s affairs, which made Genji and Viir the ideal people to work with the Ntaro.

The second son of House L’u-cif-er had been fighting ingrained prejudice and stubborn resistance to change since the day he was born. Not only was he a Negative Psi, whose only Talent was to block the Psi abilities of others, born to the most powerful Psi House of Byshen, he had also formed an Elska bond with another man. Elska was an intense psychic, emotional, physical and mental bond, considered a gift of God by many Byshens. It was a rare occurrence and never in all of Byshen’s long recorded history had it occurred between two men. To cap the matter, Viir was the most dangerous of Psis – a Wild Psi possessing not one, but three Psi Talents. Most Wild Psis died before they were twenty. Those who did not generally went mad and either burned themselves out or accepted voluntary euthanization. That Viir was still alive and in possession of his faculties at the age of forty was a terrifying affront to many Byshens.

Genji and Viir had spent forty-years proving to Byshen society that change was not necessarily evil; they would do the same for Ntaro if necessary.

“Representative L’u-cif-er,” said Kia-Kia. “It is most unfortunate that the visit of yourself and your skækja to Ntaro must be under such circumstances. Know that our condolences have been sent to the Clan of Seeyeer on the untimely passing of their offspring dzeert. Clan Kia-Kia will meet the needs of those who grieve.”

Genji controlled himself with difficulty. Not only did his own anger heat his blood, but he felt Viir’s also through their bond. To call one a skækja was an insult of the highest order. In Byshen’s recent past the answer to it had been a duel; now it was social ostracism. Unfortunately that was not an option in this situation. Neither was the punch Genji longed to throw at Kia-Kia’s smugly impassive expression.

There was also the implication of its panimalay assuming the responsibilities of House L’u-cif-er. Genji was quite sure that both insults had been intended, but he had dealt with House and Galactic affairs for too long to allow his anger to show.

Using House Polite to Inferior Un-Housed inflection Genji said, “Doubtless the august High Councilor is unaware of the poor choice of word and phrase he has offered to this servant of the House of L’u-cif-er. It is to be understood. The proper mode of speech can only be mastered by those of the highest order.”

Roghet’s gaze darted back and forth between Genji and Kia-Kia. He seemed ready to bounce through the ceiling in his nervousness.

Without taking his eyes off the Ntaro, Genji addressed the Stjórnandi, “We are most pleased by your hospitality, Overseer Roghet; but you will understand that we wish to retire now.”

“Of course House Representative.” Roghet bowed in a poor imitation of First dsk style.

“L’u-cif-er,” said Kia-Kia. Its face was impassive, but Genji was satisfied Kia-Kia had understood the insult.

Genji did not reply, simply holding the Ntaro’s gaze for a moment, before turning to stride out of the room, Viir easily keeping apace beside him.

Outside, Genji ignored the léttivagn waiting to take Roghet’s guests home and started walking up the well-lit dirt road toward the compound’s Main House. It was clear and bright and the House was but a mile’s easy walk. After the heat and oppressive crowding of the Overseer’s home, the relative silence of the night was a welcome relief. “Is Kia-Kia the one behind the trouble?” Genji said. He glanced at Viir who slowly shook his head.

“I don’t believe so, love. Not directly. Kia-Kia might suggest that it would be best for Ntaro if House L’u-cif-er were to leave, but I think he would not do so until his clan had a way to replace the income L’u-cif-er generates for the three districts.”

Genji nodded.

They continued walking, an easy silence between them. The cool night air was a startling contrast to the day’s earlier heat. Always more sensitive to the cold, Viir shivered lightly. Genji reached out and pulled him into the circle of his own warmth, breathing in the familiar tangy scent that was Viir’s alone. They were of a height, though Genji was of a slighter build than Viir, and fit easily together, falling into step without thought.

It was, Genji realized, the first truly quiet moment they had had to themselves in three days. They had been studying the ruins on an abandoned planet designated U7 in the Inkrien System. It was meant to be both a vacation and second hveitibrauðsdagar. Viir could explore, speculate and catalog without answering to Elysium’s Scholar Council or Byshen’s University, both of which he served as Professor-Scholar. Genji meanwhile could enjoy a respite from his duties for House L’u-cif-er. Though his father L’u-cif-er Da’anil Kaen was Head of all House L’u-cif-er, in a financial-political empire as large as L’u-cif-er’s there was plenty of work for all.

Therefore when the stjórnandi for L’u-cif-er’s Ntaro holdings had died after the last in a series of accidents, Genji had been dispatched to investigate.

It had taken them a day to reach the closest hub from U7, then two days in layered space studying the accumulated materials on Ntaro Stjórnandi dzeert Seeyeer, and the various incidents that had plagued the wind farm and its affiliated manufacturing plants. Then a half day from the Ntaro Hub to the planet and the news awaiting them that they were expected to attend a musical evening arranged by the new Overseer Chanon Rhoget. It was impossible to decline the invitation as all the local district Councilors and sub-Councilors would be attending. So after a wearing journey, Genji and Viir had had to endure hours of polite, probing conversation from the curious Ntaro officials and off-key musical performances by their offspring.

I think, minn hjarta, Genji sent, I shall not set foot out of our room until well past the mid-day chime.

Viir chuckled. “That I should like to see,” he said, planting a quick kiss on Genji’s cheek. “You have never been one to lie abed when duty calls.”

The Main House appeared around a bend in the road before Genji could frame an answer.

L’u-cif-er Da’anil Kaen had been determined that the Byshen investors did not appear as some colonizing overlords to the Ntaro. “We will, as much as possible,” he had said, “conform to the ways of the Ntaro. Though the Ntaro House and the compound are legally Byshen ground, it must not be unfamiliar or patronizing to our Ntaro employees and patrons.” Therefore, the Main House had been built in traditional Ntaro style. The long, low, wooden structure had been placed on short stilts. The rooms and corridors that covered a square mile were connected by open bridges that crossed artificially created streams. Inside, the rooms were bare, except for the movable screens that created the room divisions, a few low black wood tables, and the silken cushions stuffed with fragrant Chtaysa grass that served as both seats and beds. Genji, who had spent most of his life within the stone walls of L’u-cif-er’s Main House on Byshen, had not yet acclimated himself to the openness and insubstantialness of the structure. Viir, on the other hand, was openly admiring of the design.

First Dsk Hynl was waiting for them when they entered. “Welcome back, Sirs,” he said in Confidential Employee to Head of House inflection.

“Thank you, Dsk Hynl,” Genji said, taking his evening slippers off and placing them on the mat by the door. “All has been well in our absence?”

“Head of House L’u-cif-er has sent the final reports on the turbine accident as presented by the Ntaro investigation committee.” He paused, waiting for Genji’s nod to continue. “It differs in no particulars from the reports previously filed by the Committee. Stjórnandi dzeert Seeyeer’s death is ruled accidental, the unfortunate result of a mechanical failure.”

“Did the report not speak of the previous incidents?” said Viir.

Genji waited for the answer. The six previous equipment failures had been written off as accidents, though it stretched credibility to do so. House L’u-cif-er prided itself on using only the finest of equipment. One accident was within the realm of probability. Six were not. Stjórnandi Seeyeer had also expressed his doubts about both the accidents and the investigations before his death.

Dsk Hynl said, “The incidents of the previous weeks were ruled outside the purview of the investigation and so were neither noted, nor considered.” Hynl’s expression was entirely correct, yet Genji could tell the older man was not pleased by the report. Hynl had served as a dsk to House L’u-cif-er his entire adult life and considered the House’s honor as his own. The recent problems on Ntaro were as much an affront to him as they were to Genji and the Family.

“So,” said Viir. “Two factions, then? One wishing to drive L’u-cif-er away and the other willing to cover up to keep the House here?”

“It’s possible, but I do not like the implications.” Genji rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension that knotted his muscles.

“Do you wish to study the file at this time?” Dsk Hynl said.

“No,” Genji said wearily. “I shall consider it in the morning. You may dismiss the servants and retire yourself.”

“As it pleases you,” said Hynl, bowing and leaving the room.

Genji ran through the schedule for the next day as he and Viir made their way along the open corridors toward their suite in the north wing. He would need to go over each accident report again, especially the one concerning Seeyeer’s death, but first he intended to make an on-site assessment of each incident.

“Enough minn skínandi einn,” Viir said. He slid the door closed behind him as they entered the room. “Think on it tomorrow.” Viir’s voice was soft and caressing as he pulled Genji back to him. “Now is the time for bed.”

“Mmmm.” Genji’s murmur was a purr of contentment. He turned quickly and pulled Viir into his arms. Releasing the silver ring that held Viir’s bronze hair back in a long tail Genji fisted the heavy length and gently tugged Viir’s face closer. Their mouths fused. Genji sighed as they pulled apart after a long moment. “I think bed is a most excellent idea.”