Zodiac (Zodiac, #1)(50)
I rush forward, into the nose, to see the constellation of the Scales of Justice. Since we’re travelling at hyperspeed, the nearest stars streak by like threads of light, and only the distant ones seem to hang still. For the next few minutes, I cling to the rail, watching House Libra bloom ever larger and closer.
Soon we’re deep inside the constellation, and Libra’s one inhabited planet, Kythera, glows like a smooth velvet ball, as lemon yellow as the Libran tunic I’m wearing. Smoky swirls and vortexes dimple the ball’s surface.
Kythera is blanketed in clouds as thick as fiberglass, made of black carbon and yellow sulfuric acid. Dirty, smothering clouds. They press down on the planet below with bone-crushing weight and lock in every joule of heat. The surface weather is brutal. The acidic storms can grind away entire mountains in a single night.
That’s why Librans live in flying cities. We’re near enough now to see the communities floating in the cloud tops like silver bubbles. There must be hundreds. Some appear gigantic, while others are very small, and they drift on leisurely currents in the upper atmosphere. Occasionally, two of them bump together, then bounce slowly apart. Their movements are fluid, dancelike, mesmerizing. Like the orbits of the balls of light in the Ephemeris.
Libra is one of the wealthiest Houses in the galaxy. Kythera’s never-ending flow of volcanic magma yields the purest industrial gemstones in the Zodiac. What’s more, Librans harvest their atmospheric gases and refine them into precious high-grade fuel and plexines.
I keep watching until we enter the atmosphere, and then once again, my feet sink further into the deck, and my bones bear more of my flesh. It’s nice to feel my full weight again.
Mathias says Lord Neith’s court is “high church,” very formal and ritualistic, and it would be a serious misstep for Cancer’s Guardian to show up in a Libran uniform. I know why he’s really saying it, so I go back to my quarters to change into my blue Zodai suit. The refresher has finished with it, and the fabric is crisp and fresh. I slip it on, and my fingers trace the embroidered moons on the sleeve. I miss the sisters.
I check out my reflection in the mirror and try applying makeup the way Leyla does. I don’t manage nearly the effect she can, but at least I obscure the blue-black bags beneath my eyes. I add a little eyeliner and some lipstick, then I loosen my ponytail and spray one of the smoothening lotions on my curls. They lengthen and grow glossy.
When I return to the nose, Caasy is still sleeping, and we’re now racing down toward the largest bubble in sight, the city Aeolus. The sphere contains breathable air, which is much lighter than the planet’s dense atmosphere. Each sphere is weighted at the bottom with ballasts so it can’t flip over, and the storied levels inside are oriented to the planet’s surface. The uppermost level gets the most sunlight, so it houses the city’s corporate farms. The lower levels recycle air, water, and waste.
“Like it?” asks Hysan. “Our airborne capital is one of the Four Marvels of the Zodiac.”
“It’s amazing,” I say. “Is it made of glass?”
“Ceramic, actually.” He slides closer to me, and for the first time I notice the cedary scent of his hair. “Transparent nanocarbon fused with silica, extremely tough. It’s engineered to withstand our sulfuric atmosphere.”
Mathias edges between us. “A hot air balloon. Very appropriate.”
Hysan looks like he’s about to say something, but when he spies the discomfort on my face, he keeps quiet. Equinox’s thrusters fire, and we glide low over the face of Aeolus. This close, its protective membrane is mirror-bright and pockmarked with thousands of openings, with aircraft of every size and color circling, landing, and taking off. Hysan leans over me and says, “The landing pad is through there, and that’s—”
“Why are we still veiled?” snaps Mathias. “Aren’t you welcome in your own home?”
Hysan gives Mathias a superior look. “Do you think I’d draw a Psy strike on my world?”
They glance at me and turn away, and my stomach flips upside down. “Yeah, I know. I’m a walking target.”
The lower we glide, the denser the swarming traffic grows, and Equinox dodges through the jumble of vibrocopters, hover-ships, and pulse-jets. The ship makes a banking turn into a port and comes to rest, invisible to all eyes except our own. I wake up Caasy, and once again, Hysan insists we don our collars before disembarking.
From inside Aeolus’s transparent skin, the surrounding clouds look woolly green. This far above the planet’s surface, gravity thins out. The walls and ceilings are made of glassy-smooth ceramic, and the floors are covered in soft, cushiony plexifoam tiles. The whole place has a light, airy feel—a wonderful change from the cramped bullet-ship. The halls, however, are crowded with Librans dressed in all the colorful plumage of tropical birds.
We’ve landed near a major shopping zone, and consumers rush along with mesh bags and gold-starred eyes. Vivid films blare across the walls, promoting overstuffed fruit baskets, gourmet liqueurs, and baked goods. Illuminated arrows point the way to hostess gifts, caterers, florists, and party planners, and holographic ads flit through the throngs of people, showering everyone with minute-by-minute announcements of festive new merchandise.
Hysan seems to swell with pride as he takes everything in. “I forgot it’s Friday. Everyone’s planning weekend dinners. Hospitality’s a blood sport here.”