One of the nine haut-bubbles from the parade approaches the Emperor, accompanied by a familiar short little ba carrying a tray. Lisbet's voice emerges from the bubble, in measured ceremonial phrases denoting the return of the Celestial Lady's regalia to their source. Ba and bubble drift away—
—and back again in the next minute, for an exchange of further ceremonial phrases. The ba picks up the tray as delicately as it set it down. A stir of interest travels through the haut audience, particularly among members of the Serise constellation. And Lisbet Serise takes possession of the Star Creche again as Cetaganda's next Empress.
The Emperor lifts a hand, signaling Imperial engineers at their station. Inside the central bubble, a dull orange glow takes hold, brightening through red and yellow to a blue-white rendered only barely unsearing by the muting film of the force-shield. The objects inside blur into a brief whirl at that point, then dissolve entirely into molecular plasma. It only takes ten minutes from first to last. Then a wide circle opens in the force-dome above, and a much smaller hole opens in the bier-bubble to match it, and a roaring column of white fire vents into the blue sky. The upper dome closes again, and the inner bubble fades, leaving behind no trace whatsoever of the celestial corpse or any of her accompanying gifts.
Emperor Fletchir removes his white outer robes, and replaces them with a more colourful set brought by a ba servitor. The Imperial parade winds its way out of the bowl in reverse, led by the Emperor with Miles once again at his side. A large open float-car awaits them at the top; the parade, minus Miles, boards it.
Out of mourning, the haut Lisbet's bubble is a deep, rich shade of indigo, cycling down to something darker and bluer with glacial slowness. She pauses next to Miles. "Ghem-General Benin will return you to your delegation. I will see you again shortly, for a purpose you have correctly guessed."
no subject
—and back again in the next minute, for an exchange of further ceremonial phrases. The ba picks up the tray as delicately as it set it down. A stir of interest travels through the haut audience, particularly among members of the Serise constellation. And Lisbet Serise takes possession of the Star Creche again as Cetaganda's next Empress.
The Emperor lifts a hand, signaling Imperial engineers at their station. Inside the central bubble, a dull orange glow takes hold, brightening through red and yellow to a blue-white rendered only barely unsearing by the muting film of the force-shield. The objects inside blur into a brief whirl at that point, then dissolve entirely into molecular plasma. It only takes ten minutes from first to last. Then a wide circle opens in the force-dome above, and a much smaller hole opens in the bier-bubble to match it, and a roaring column of white fire vents into the blue sky. The upper dome closes again, and the inner bubble fades, leaving behind no trace whatsoever of the celestial corpse or any of her accompanying gifts.
Emperor Fletchir removes his white outer robes, and replaces them with a more colourful set brought by a ba servitor. The Imperial parade winds its way out of the bowl in reverse, led by the Emperor with Miles once again at his side. A large open float-car awaits them at the top; the parade, minus Miles, boards it.
Out of mourning, the haut Lisbet's bubble is a deep, rich shade of indigo, cycling down to something darker and bluer with glacial slowness. She pauses next to Miles. "Ghem-General Benin will return you to your delegation. I will see you again shortly, for a purpose you have correctly guessed."