The building in comparison was of plain, tan-coloured stone and rose with all the majesty of an Arabian palace—not quite as ornate, but nearly so. Beautifully proportioned in its symmetry, it was three stories high with a domed tower in the centre and two smaller domes at each end. A run of ornate arches stretched between them providing shelter from the strong sunlight, and beyond them, we could see windows and door into the building itself.
People were ambling around us, most making their way to the palace too. It was obvious that they had dressed for the occasion by the fabrics that they wore, but as to design and colour, it was startlingly plain. Everybody wore a simple, long, white robe that reached to their ankles and plain, flat shoes. The ladies wore pretty voiles over their garments to enhance them, but in none of their clothing was there an ounce of colour.
In their hands, they held little boxes varying in size from a matchbox to a shoebox. They were white and tied with little white ribbons too. Gifts for the High Emperor perhaps? We looked down at our offering; very different from the Dirrians', and then our uniforms. We felt very conspicuous in our black, gold and red. It didn't help that T'Roc was so tall either. Dirrians skirted around us, intimidated by her height.
Shrugging our shoulders, we stepped off the grass and onto the white gravel path that led towards the palace. The stones crunched noisily under our feet and looking down, I noticed how it sparkled slightly in the sunlight. How did they keep it so clean and white, I wondered?
Music drifted from the palace as we approached. Looking through the doorway, I could see the instruments and musicians: a small orchestra of about a dozen people playing a variety of tubular bells and drums. It was odd music but melodic and soothing.
We were greeted at the door by servants. Also dressed in white, they wore short-sleeved tops like tee-shirts but with tails like a dress-coat, and three-quarter length trousers. They wore white shoes with a white dress buckle on the top. They tipped their heads to us and offered us drinks, which we took. The glasses were tall stemmed, rather like champagne glasses but larger, and the beverage was the colour of mango juice. In fact, it tasted very much like mango juice too.
We mingled with the crowds, feeling rather out of place as we nodded politely at everyone and somewhat surprised that we were being treated with virtual indifference.
"Welcome," a voice suddenly rang out across the room.
T'Roc and I turned to see who the person was greeting and were both relieved to find it was us. T'Roc smiled broadly at the Dirrian and dropped down onto one knee as he approached. This wasn't subservience but because she had read my report. T'Roc understood that her height might offend the High Emperor—and this was obviously the High Emperor. He wore a wreath of green leaves around his head like a Roman emperor.
The Dirrian spread his arms in a welcome, took T'Roc by the elbows and kissed her cheek. I swear I saw her blush!
"And what is this you have for me?" he asked brightly, looking into the pot. "Oh!" he immediately cried in disappointment. "It's dead."
"No, no," cried T'Roc. "It's a whole plant."
"In a pot?"
"Yes, in a pot."
"But ... what about its roots? Where do they go?" He was obviously confused and a crowd had begun to gather around us.
"In the soil ... in the pot."
He studied the pot in more detail, looking around it and beneath it. "But it's so small."
"It's big enough for an amaryllis," explained T'Roc.
"Amaryllis? Is that what you call it? It's a beautiful name."
"For a beautiful plant. In about six to eight weeks, it will flower—"
"Weeks!"
"Yes, but I understand that it's worth the wait."
"Wait! What wait? That's incredible! How big does it get?"
"Um ... about yay high?" and T'Roc illustrated with her hands.
"Really!" exclaimed the High Emperor. "That's incredible. I could almost sit and watch it grow!"
The Emperor then explained to us that Dirrian plants had huge root systems below ground, about twice as big as the plant above, and that they took years to grow to any kind of size. The tulip trees outside were, in fact, over five hundred years old, and the shrubs took about fifty years to grow to knee height. This slow growth was one of the reasons why plants were so treasured on Dirria. You couldn't simply plant a hedge and next year, you'd have a hedge. Gardens had to be planned for the next generation's enjoyment, not yours.
It wasn't long before the plain, white pot was placed on a ceremonious Doric-style plinth for public display. Gardeners and botanists were summoned to study the plant and measuring equipment was brought in to record its fantastic growth. The night drew on, turning out to be a very long one as fascination in the amaryllis continued, demanding that we downloaded and provided lots of information about its care and upkeep. We had no idea that this one plant would cause such a stir.
As T'Roc continued answering their questions, I stood and admired their moon through the open window, stifling a yawn, when a Dirrian servant tugged at my sleeve.
"Rooms have been prepared for you," she explained.
"I'm not sure we had planned to stay over," I whispered discretely.
"The Emperor has made his requirements clear and provisions have been made," and she turned and left. I stared at her back until she disappeared into the crowds and then went to find T'Roc. It wasn't hard when she towered, head and shoulders, above the Dirrians. I was a little anxious about telling her that we were staying over, but she just rolled her eyes and whispered, "Damn! I didn't bring my PJs."
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