"Kathy Tyers - Firebird 1 - Firebird" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tyers Kathy)

marked her as Angelo: royalty. She wore the habitual expression of cool, self-conscious grandeur
Firebird despised. Unlike Carradee, who was willing simply to ignore the Federacy, Phoena showed
open hostility. Firebird winced bitterly. That person would represent Naetai into the next century…

Firebird, too, had little use for the Federacy as a political entity, but the thought of so many distant worlds
—so much variety, so much technical knowledge— tortured her curiosity.

The Federacy had consolidated most of the human-settled Whorl of the galactic Arm after four centuries
of catastrophe. First Sabba Six-Alpha, a binary off one edge of the Whorl, had evolved into a radiation
emitter so strong all spacefaring civilizations were chased to ground while the surge blew past. Then had
come the invading alien Keepers, seemingly immune to Sabba’s violence.

During those centuries, while civilization deteriorated in the Whorl, Naetai—isolated at the end of the
great galactic Arm—had gladly stood alone; and later, after the Keepers had gone, Naetai had made no
effort to covenant to the Federacy. Proud of their culture, their noble heritage, and their independence,
the N’Taians had no wish to traffic with the Federacy, which they saw as a sort of lowest common
culture trying to reunite the backslid races.

While Firebird cherished the N’Taian values too, she felt certain Naetai could benefit from some
technical advances of the Federacy’s recent expansion. Phoena’s attitude galled her.

Phoena turned aside to share a haughty glance with His Grace, the Duke of Claighbro, Muirnen Rattela,
and Firebird shifted her attention to the five strange men who stood below the U-shaped table. The two
who stood forward wore dress-white tunics and carried themselves with calm authority. One addressed
the Elect in clipped Old Colonial, the common speech of human-settled worlds since the First Expansion.
“… for the mutual protection of all systems within the Federacy,” he said.

Duke Rattela flicked one finger toward the man who had spoken. “It seems to me a rather unreasonable
tax to levy against so isolated and well protected a system as Naetai, Admiral.” Maintaining an indolent
slouch, Rattela eyed the Federates with disdain. Nearing sixty, the Duke had black hair that still showed
no gray, and the thickness of his jowls took up enough slack to mask any wrinkles his anti-aging implants
could not arrest.

Firebird’s glance sprang back to the Federate guests. Behind the ambassadors, an honor guard stood at
attention, two armed men in gray and one in midnight blue.

“Let me look!” insisted Corey from behind her.

Reluctantly, she yielded her observation post. These were men from other worlds—oh, to see the places
they had surely seen! Firebird had just passed her first-level Astronautics exam: a “beginning” course in
superatmospheric piloting, basic slip dynamics, and space medicine. She ached to explore the N’Taian
solar reach, its buffer systems—and beyond, even to the Federacy.

It sounded as if the Federates hoped to establish a trade agreement with Naetai. Yet the N’Taian
Electorate— the real power on Naetai, which her family served as nominal head and as voting
members—was being as obstinately isolationist as ever.

A blazing shame, Firebird reflected, that’s what it was. Naetai should establish relations with the
Federacy—if only out of compassion. The Federates could gain so much culture in the exchange, and
she’d be a sharp trade pilot. Corey could navigate, and his twin brother, Daley, was the best young