Exodus, page 69
“Iuntin-Detlef?” she asked him through the connection. “Is it really you?”
“Yes.” The accompanying emotion was a sunburst of harsh satisfaction. “Though in this host I’m really just Iuntin now.”
“So what happened to that dick Ualana?”
“Your father was right about him. As soon as Ualana left Wynid, he came directly to Uixic, looking for something to confirm his suspicion about your origin. We eliminated him and two of his sons, but we managed to immobilize Shoigu. Our neural compulsion assault allowed us to retrieve his memories and the gifts Ualana gave him; he was very close to being a host. We distilled the mentality we’d captured to this rider I carry, then we used a YouBuster on him. Every trace of Ualana and Shoigu was erased from his brain. It was an empty vessel, perfect for hosting me.”
“Well, let’s hope the rider can fool Ualana’s Family when you greet them.”
“I am ready to face that challenge.”
“And I have the perfect position for you in court.”
* * *
—
After the head child nurse announced it was time for their evening meal, the congregants reluctantly bade their Mother Queen good night and traipsed out, giggling and smiling.
“You may leave, too,” Thyra told the princesses. “I’m granting you a spare minute. Run along now. You will be told when to join me for dinner.”
The surprised princesses were quick to take advantage. Clavissa gave her queen a fast curious glance and trailed after them.
Thyra turned to Major Siskala-Ingrid. “Please secure the room. I will speak to my father and the new chief archon in private. No interruptions until Oujanya arrives, then show her in.”
The armored figure gave a slight bow. “Ma’am.”
Thyra held her hands out, palms upward. Her father and Iuntin took hold, completing a connection triad.
“We did it!” Thyra announced over the connection. “I was expecting someone to ask for a formal vote.”
“No,” Bekket responded. “You’ve neutered them properly now. I don’t believe they would have voted against you even if we hadn’t produced the miracle that is Lord Ualana.” He smiled at Iuntin. “Better yet, Gahiji-Calder will be consumed by a quest for vengeance against the Family Panrako for what he believes to be their treachery against him. A Family on Family battle at that level will consume Wynid’s court for a century as they maneuver to bolster their own position. I am going to be inundated with petitions; everyone will want to be in your favor. The not-so-Great families especially. They’ll be hungry for advantage in the unfolding melee.”
“Divide and rule,” Thyra said. “The Families shouldn’t be that surprised. Helena practiced it for her entire reign.”
“Their pettiness will end as soon as the real troubles start,” Iuntin said. “Then they will obediently rally round you.”
“Yes,” Thyra agreed. “On which topic, what progress are my aunt and uncle making?”
“They are playing their parts perfectly,” Iuntin replied. “Our Greatest Game is on schedule.”
“Excellent.” A bell rang softly. “Speaking of which.”
The door opened. Oujanya followed Siskala-Ingrid into the Taffesque drawing room. Thyra smiled warmly at the girl, noting her badly hidden nerves.
She would’ve made a wretched host for Helena, Thyra decided. No self-control.
“Mother Queen.” Oujanya bowed deeply.
The girl was the last of the princess cohort that had attended Helena. Thyra had continued gifting her the stolen memories until she was finally replaced. The new princesses, although they had Helena’s early giftings, were all hers now. The aggressive neural compulsions she’d inherited from her family had seen to that.
“My dear daughter, I’m so happy to see you. I understand you are studying economic science at the capital university now?”
“Er, yes, Mother Queen.”
“And is it going well?”
“I believe so. I am enjoying the work. It is very interesting.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Although I had hoped you would consider a role in my navy.”
Oujanya’s gaze flicked round the others in the room. “I…I didn’t know that, Mother Queen.”
“Fleet intelligence analyst would have been a most suitable post. It is a useful career, and you could have kept myself and my chief archon apprised of any disloyalty among the officers you serve with.”
“Disloyalty?” an aghast Oujanya exclaimed. “In the navy?”
“Officers are taught to take the initiative,” the chief archon said. “While useful, it can be overstated, and perhaps misunderstood. A reluctance to immediately obey any order from the queen can become an issue during a crisis.”
“Crisis?”
“With Dolod closing on Kelowan, we approach one,” Thyra said. “And you are to play a part in it.”
Major Siskala-Ingrid grabbed Oujanya and forced her onto her knees on the silver grass. “Mother Queen,” the girl implored. “I am loyal!”
“Not enough,” Thyra said. “Not yet.”
Oujanya gasped in shock as she saw the slim luminescent lines ignite across Thyra’s palm.
“Hold her still,” Thyra instructed the stoic major. She brought her hand down on the neural patch on the back of Oujanya’s neck. The girl’s thoughts fluttered like a startled bird around the inside of her skull. Not even Helena’s powerful gifting of discipline could prevent fear and panic rising to dominate her rationality as the queen’s cold perception infiltrated her personality.
Thyra studied the frightened thoughts and selected the neural compulsions she needed. They were applied swiftly, intangible needles penetrating deep into the fragile ego held in her grasp, merging then dominating the traits that comprised Oujanya’s individuality and reasoning. Resistance vanished quickly as the silky smooth compulsions wove their way deep into the girl’s psyche. The mental operation was simple and effective, unlike the one Thyra had performed on Siskala-Ingrid, which had evolved into quite a struggle. Now there was someone who had definitely inherited Helena’s forcefulness. But even she had fallen to the neural weaponry that the Crown Dominion so feared.
Oujanya’s features slipped back into placid neutrality. Siskala-Ingrid let her go, and she rose to her feet. For a moment she swayed about, then focused on Thyra’s smiling face.
“Mother Queen, I’m going to apply to the Navy Academy. I was hoping for an endorsement from you,” she added anxiously.
“I would be delighted to provide a reference. You were always one of my favorite princesses.”
* * *
—
Clavissa reached the Family’s fifty-room apartment in the northern quarter of the palace and produced a weak smile for her father, Jolav-Dabny, when she joined him out on the hanging garden. The sun was going down beyond the balustrade, producing a rosy twilight glow all along the horizon. Far below, the birds were gliding into their nests for the night, and the lights of the capital were already casting their glow as far as the eye could see.
“How goes it?” he asked.
“You look how I feel,” she said sympathetically. With a new spawn batch of three little brothers only just weaned, he appeared exhausted. “Are they in bed?”
“Yes, thank Asteria. Fatherhood drains us so, Clavissa. I honestly think I should rehost as soon as this batch reaches their age.”
“Your Dabny host is only sixty-three.”
“And ten thousand. Don’t forget the ten thousand. I think this host body’s cells are keenly aware of that number, and behave accordingly.”
She sat on the livestone bench beside him and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Nothing from Natoan, then?”
“The cadet cruiser has not yet returned. Don’t worry.”
“Humm.” She missed her spawn brothers. Three had chosen to join the navy, while Natoan had typically aimed higher and applied for a commission as a Knight. He’d often bragged to her that any one of his training exercises was tougher than all three of her Royal Trials combined.
“I’m more concerned about you,” he said. “Court equerry is not the easy task so many assume. You don’t get much time to yourself, do you? For instance, I haven’t seen Lord Schmitz around for a while.”
Clavissa waved a hand dismissively. “That’s over. And I don’t have any time, let alone much; those damn princesses, it’s like looking after brainless puppies. If Helena-Chione had ever selected me as host, I’m sure I’d never have been so…empty. It’s like Helena-Thyra isn’t gifting them properly anymore, at least not the way she did with us.” She glanced around the shaded garden, trying to decide if she should say more. So many doubts swirled in her mind. And my mind was birthed by Helena, after all. I should trust that instinct she bestowed. “Daddy.” She put her hand out toward him, palm up.
He hesitated for a beat, clearly knowing something was bothering her, yet reluctant to find out. Which is unlike him, she thought.
“What is it?” he asked once they connected.
“There’s something wrong.”
“Welcome to life in the Wynid Royal Court.”
“No. I mean with Helena-Thyra.”
“My darling daughter, do you really want to go down this path?”
“I am Helena’s aspect. And I know the way she is behaving is not how I would behave.”
“You were an aspect of the queen back when she was Helena-Chione, but now you are beginning your own independent life. These thoughts and memories you’re accumulating are making you a completely different person. So yes, I’m sure Helena-Thyra is doing things differently than you would’ve.”
“It’s not that,” Clavissa insisted. “I see her. I, more than anyone else, my appointment means I am with her all day long because the princesses are with her all day. Every formal event, I am there; when she is in her own quarters, I hover in the background as she indulges herself. Everything she does, everything she says, every unguarded moment, I am the witness, more so than even Major Siskala-Ingrid. And I’m telling you, daddy, there is too much Thyra and not enough Helena.”
“Oh, sweet child. No. Helena chose Thyra as host because of the girl’s inherent personality. She wanted that strength and determination. Everything you hated in Thyra when you were congregants, remember? You perhaps didn’t notice how much the princesses always differ. It is quite deliberate; they provide the queen with choice. You have only known our queen these few short years. I, however, have known her for millennia. Believe me when I tell you, this hosting is mild and kind compared to some she wore during the war of the Imperial Accord that was fought amid the blood and screams of the dying. You were there at the Privy Council today, were you not?”
“Yes.”
“Time was, even three or four millennia ago, when the holder of a senior post would simply not turn up, and Helena would appoint a successor. None of us would object for fear that at the next meeting we would be the empty chair that everyone glanced askance toward. Helena is ruthless in a way that you have no experience or understanding of. But trust me on this, you do not rule entire star systems that are home to tens of billions of people by being agreeable. The Crown Dominion was established with extreme force wielded without mercy, and the power born out of that struggle is what holds it together now.”
“I see.”
“For comfort, consider this; there was a saying on Old Earth: Those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it. That doesn’t apply to Imperial Celestials. We have no need to learn history, for we are history; we know not to repeat our past mistakes. The pain they caused is reminder enough. In a thousand years you will start to appreciate that.”
Clavissa sighed. “If you say so.”
“I certainly do. Now, what news from your other job?”
“My other job?”
“Dear me, yes! The princess wrangler is the greatest merchant of palace gossip, is she not?”
“Oh, yes. That.”
“Come on, once I used to command a fleet with enough firepower to obliterate whole worlds, but now this host body is weary and spends all day playing with infants. Give me some adult conversation.”
“It’s not that bad,” she chided with a chuckle.
His expression challenged that. “I am a lord in one of the seven Grandest Families of Wynid. Don’t make me beg. Please?”
“Well…” Clavissa let go of his hand and gave him a wry grin. “You didn’t hear this from me. Okay, you know protocol has Lady Lachwin-Elif stepping down from the Privy Council now that Lord Ualana-Shoigu is chief archon.”
“Of course. The Family Panrako cannot have two seats on the council; the other Grand Families wouldn’t stand for it.”
“Well, that’s the theory, yes. But apparently there’s been a suggestion that she might not follow hallowed tradition this time around. The Family Panrako sees opportunity in today’s events. At the very least, her seat will be offered to an allied Family.”
“But they are all allied.”
“Are they? Really? Talk is—and I got this from a relative of Princess Roja—that some of the not-so-Grand Families are seeing this as their opportunity to gain a seat on the Privy Council.”
“Asteria wept! There hasn’t been a new representative at the privy table for twelve hundred years.”
“I know. And apparently that’s not the only alliance being formed among the wannabes.”
“I can’t believe the Family Panrako is being this intrepid. They are like us, one of the seven Grandest. They have nothing to gain and everything to lose by antagonizing the others. Especially…” He frowned in puzzlement.
“Yes?”
“In confidence? Proper confidence?”
“Of course, daddy.”
“Lord Ualana-Lyon hated Thyra; I know this from some very personal conversations we had. He lost two congregant daughters to her in trial.”
“That is my history, daddy, remember. I never did understand why she helped me after the bloodlien attacked.”
“That’s easy enough. Saving you was purely political; it practically guaranteed her becoming a princess.”
“Yet now Helena-Thyra appoints Ualana-Shoigu as her chief archon.”
“Which has been the talk of the palace since the Privy Council session ended. Actually, talk of the city. Or the entire planet, basically. No one can figure out what deal was made. Even for Helena, dismissing Lord Gahiji-Calder was a bold move. And having Lord Ualana-Shoigu of all people replace him…It’s extraordinary.”
“I was there at Privy Council. Helena-Thyra is not happy about the Mara Yama swarming at Hoa Quinzu.”
“Nobody is, but that development took every court in the Crown Dominion by surprise. Everyone thought they were going to pass by Hoa Quinzu on their way to Capo Frois; that’s what their initial course trajectory indicated. Even our archons don’t have informers amid the Mara Yama. So I will admit to you that I am hugely curious about the actual reason. Gahiji-Calder’s Family has absolutely no idea what they’ve done to upset Helena for her to play them in such an adversarial light. They’re worried it’s the start of their defenestration. So much so they might even sideline Gahiji-Calder from their family council as a show of solidarity with the throne.”
“I thought you said you’re living a life of lonely piety.”
“I may have spoken to a few old friends.”
“You’re the best, daddy. Now I have to get back. Those princesses won’t go to bed by themselves.”
“I miss you.” He kissed her fondly and took her hand again. “But, please, be careful what you say about our queen,” he told her through their connection. “She is your mother, after all. You should know that being her daughter will not spare you if you antagonize her.”
“Don’t worry about me. Her politics giftings were very comprehensive.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
There was just something about the two new clients that made Zikar Tasot edgy. But then, everyone who ventured into his store had issues, pushing out vibes that varied from the terminally nervous to alpha macho. The ones he hated most were the type that projected calm menace and knew it.
These clients didn’t fit into any of the normal categories. Nervous, sure, but also eager, as if they were testing him somehow. The man was middle-aged, with a round face and thinning hair that really needed some styling. And who thought leather trench coats were a thing, especially at midday in Santa Rosa during the dry season? The woman wasn’t much better. Zikar had never gone in for the whole syb-vampyrie jewel trend, but she’d gotten a pair of the translucent cell clumps attached to her earlobes, where they glimmered like some weird deep-sea fish, pulsing with every heartbeat. The ancient tech was in a resurgence right now; wearing it was fast becoming a political statement in Santa Rosa. The parasitic way that synthetic cells fed off human blood had been taken up by various factions to denote the way Celestials leeched off human work and lived a shining life because of it.
The two of them had been vouched for by Brarat, who ran with the Yashtol Grid—a gang out of Santa Rosa’s western districts. Zikar had supplied them with customized bioware for getting on twelve years now. They were tight, which is why he’d let these two into his store. The front was a repair shop for andys (specializing in mid-size civic systems) and looked more like an abandoned junk pile than a working enterprise, but the back was where the real work was done, the stuff that paid for his studio in a decent part of town as well as a rather nice apartment out in Hafnir, just a couple of blocks back from the beach.
His view lens band showed him the result of the scans that were made when they walked through into the workshop at the back; the door frame was packed with sensors he’d tuned himself. They each carried a magpistol, but that was pretty much standard. Their lnc patches made him frown, as they seemed very high spec. He wondered if they’d got them direct from Travelers.
