Clan, Honor, and Empire, page 45
part #3 of Clan Beginnings Series
Only two things kept their lives from perfect harmony. Breft had begun navigating the byzantine interview and testing process in his bid to gain a place in Global Security’s elite youth training program. Watching the Nobek worry and second-guess his performances reminded Rajhir of how hard his own early efforts to prove himself had been. The Dramok realized just how lucky he’d been to have mentors like Gegra, Ospar, and Emperor Zarl to advise him. Rajhir made an extra effort to do the same for Breft. Astef also took a special interest in his son’s new clanmate, though with his position on Global Security’s recruitment board, the elder Nobek was careful not to show too much favoritism in public.
Flencik was amused when Breft grew a goatee like Rajhir and Astef. He teased Rajhir for being Breft’s hero when their Nobek wasn’t around to hear him do so. That led to a few rounds of discipline that both Rajhir and Flencik enjoyed. Though he wouldn’t admit it, the Dramok found he rather liked the evidence of being Breft’s role model.
The second issue that caused Rajhir some irritation was Councilman Pwaldur’s nomination of Dramok Selg to replace Gegra on the council. With Emperor Zarl’s blessing, Rajhir challenged the nomination. He went on news programs, spoke out on the council floor, and roundly criticized Selg’s promise to ease safety regulations for the cooperative formed by the small mining companies. Rajhir took not only the safety findings from Itga but also commissioned scientific studies of his own on all mining corporations in operation. He was able to prove that the proposed relaxing of certain restrictions would result in more injuries and deaths to mine workers. Support for Selg began to wane though the smaller companies, led by Pibol Excavations, continued to wage a public relations war on his behalf.
Many people, constituents and councilmen alike, urged Rajhir to run for his father’s seat on the Royal Council. Rajhir set aside the flattery and demurred all offers to fund his candidacy. His excuse was always the same; he still had too much to learn before accepting the great responsibility of being one of the leaders of Kalquor. He insisted the Empire’s citizens would be better served by a seasoned legislator with a proven track record. He threw his support behind a Dramok named Cor who had been the well-regarded lieutenant governor for the Eastern Seaboard Territory for the last four years.
Rajhir was only half-truthful about his reasons for not running for Gegra’s seat. He had an even bigger concern, one he kept to himself. He continued to worry about Flencik’s safety. To become a full-on lightning rod by running for council was something he wasn’t willing to take on yet. After all, Gegra’s murder was still unsolved. Rajhir wasn’t convinced Flencik’s shuttle crash had been an accident. Breft would soon be busy with training, so the Imdiko would have stretches of time during which he would be unprotected. Rajhir knew he was probably being paranoid when it came to Flencik’s safety, but he was willing to live with that.
Rajhir was sure that if he did run for the council and win a seat, he would be able to serve with honor despite his youth. Yet he also realized that clan had come to mean more to him than honor or Empire. Gegra might not have approved but until Flencik’s well-being was settled in Rajhir’s mind, Kalquor would have to wait for him to step up.
* * * *
Three months passed after Breft’s clanning. Rajhir returned home from work one night, walking through the door just in time to hear Flencik yell, “You monstrous little shit! Look at what you made me do!”
Breft’s laughter and the smell of something burning led Rajhir straight to the kitchen. Flencik stood in the middle of the room, red-faced with fury. His tunic was covered in what Rajhir took to be splattered food, though he couldn’t readily identify any of the components. A pan was upended on the polished stone floor. The burnt remnants of its former contents, at least the portion that Flencik wasn’t wearing, lay on the floor in a splash of reds, greens, and blacks. Breft leaned against a counter out of Flencik’s reach, laughing his head off.
Rajhir shook his head at the mess. “By the ancestors, Flencik. You’re not trying to cook again, are you?”
Flencik scowled at him for an instant before returning his angry glare at their Nobek. Breft attempted to collect himself, but he had developed a case of the hiccups in the wake of his hysterics. Rajhir wasn’t sure which of his clanmates made him chuckle harder.
Flencik planted his fists on his hips, though he looked as if he’d be happier to plant them in Breft’s face. “The casserole would have turned out fine if this hateful bastard hadn’t first distracted me, which led to me setting too long a cook time. Then he goosed me while I was taking it out, resulting in this mess!”
Rajhir cleared his throat to keep from guffawing and making his Imdiko madder still. “Flencik, you know you mean the Empire to me, but nothing you ever try to cook turns out well.”
“I am going to make you eat those words someday, Rajhir.”
That got Breft shouting with laughter again. He pounded the countertop, his palm booming against the granite surface.
Rajhir couldn’t contain his amusement either. Between chortles he asked Flencik, “Pun intended?”
Flencik blinked as he realized what he had said. It only made him angrier. When Breft tried to help him clean up the mess, the Imdiko shoved him out of the way.
Rajhir pitched in, and a few minutes later all was clean again. However, Flencik was still grumbling under his breath.
“Screw you both. Make your own damned dinners.”
Rajhir told him, “It’s just as well your efforts didn’t work out. We need to go out and celebrate.” When the other two looked at him questioningly, he sprang the good news on them. “Astef commed me today. Breft, you’ll be getting your formal acceptance into the Global Security’s elite youth training program within the week.”
Flencik immediately forgot he was mad at the Nobek. Beaming from ear to ear, he hugged his clanmate. “I knew you’d do it! Congratulations! Good for you!”
Breft’s smile was delighted and disbelieving all at once. “Really, my Dramok? I’m actually going into Global Security?”
Rajhir slapped him on the back, the closest he could get to an embrace since Flencik was still clutching Breft. “You aced all your physical prowess, fighting, and intelligence tests. You received extremely high marks on the interviews. Congratulations, my Nobek.”
Breft’s joy dimmed a little as Flencik finally released him. “But your connections made all the difference, didn’t they? Your father’s influence must have put me ahead of some worthy candidates.”
Rajhir shrugged. “It turns out that your relationship to Astef was secondary. What gave you a real edge was being the son of an officer who died heroically in the commission of his duty. Astef wasn’t the only member of the selection committee who remembered your father. However, you really did impress everyone, Breft. This is a deserved opportunity.”
“It doesn’t feel like I earned it on merit alone though.”
Breft had known that good connections were part of the process. That it bothered him to rely on such raised him in Rajhir’s estimation.
Putting a hand on the Nobek’s shoulder, Rajhir told him, “Perhaps you’re going in a tad earlier than you should because of who you know and who you’re related to. You are younger than most of the trainees. You’ll have to work harder than anyone else to show them you deserve to be there. That means I expect you to conduct yourself at all times in a mature, responsible manner. Don’t make me or our fathers look bad, Breft.”
The challenge had its hoped-for effect: Breft seemed suddenly galvanized, a determined look taking hold of his face.
In an unfaltering tone, he said, “I will not fail your faith in me, my Dramok. I swear it.”
“Good. I’m trusting you.”
“Please accept my gratitude for all you’ve done for me, and pass along my thanks to Astef if I don’t get the opportunity first.”
“I will, Breft. And now, it’s time for us to light up the town in celebration. You get to pick where we’re going.” Rajhir looked over at their beaming Imdiko and frowned. “Are you going out looking like that, Flencik? If so, you can sit at a table separate from us.”
Flencik looked down at his soiled tunic with surprise, apparently having forgotten what a mess he was. He cursed and then thumped hurriedly out of the room. “I’ll be right back!”
Breft watched him go, his grin returning. He was the happiest Rajhir had ever seen him.
The Dramok loathed spoiling the mood, but he needed a private word with his Nobek. He moved close to Breft. “I received a threatening message today.”
Breft turned serious in an instant. “What did it say?”
“‘Back off the mining legislation or the next accident will be fatal.’”
Breft showed fangs in a blatant display of temper. “Son of a bitch! That makes it sound like Flencik’s shuttle was tampered with. Someone tried to kill him.”
“That’s what I think too, though it could be some asshole making it sound like that’s the case simply to scare me.” Rajhir tamped down a shudder. The message and its implications for Flencik had succeeded on that count.
“Did you contact Global Security? That Officer Raxstad and the others should know about this even if it is an empty threat.”
Rajhir nodded. “He said he would have someone shadow our Imdiko at all times and keep him safe. Breft, I don’t think Flencik needs to know what’s going on. It could be nothing.”
Breft’s fangs hinged again as his initial shock wore off. “I understand that. The recent stress he was under was the worst I want to see him.”
“Agreed. I plan to give another round of news interviews tomorrow. The media channels will play those just prior to the council voting on Selg’s nomination for Gegra’s seat. I’m relieved to know Flencik will be well guarded.”
Breft gave him a level look. “I’ll be on watch as well.”
“I know, and that helps me not to worry so much too.” Rajhir sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I’ll be glad when this mess with the election and legislation are over. That should calm things down. By that time you’ll be in training.”
Breft relaxed, perhaps anticipating his dream coming true. There was still a note of regret in his voice as he said, “I’ll miss spending all that time with Flencik though. You’re sure he’ll be all right?”
Rajhir fixed him with look that pretended irritation. “You’re the one who says Global Security officers are the best in the Empire. I’m basing a lot on that, you know.”
Breft grinned, as unrepentant as ever. “They are, but I’d be a shitty Nobek to trust my Imdiko’s welfare to anyone else.”
Rajhir returned the smile. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but he realized he liked his troublesome rascal of a clanmate.
Chapter 30
Rajhir had not meant to carouse late into the night or drink as much as he had. After all, he and Flencik were due at work the next day. Yet Breft was happy. Flencik was happy. Hell, if not for the cold-blooded message Rajhir had received, he’d be happy too. As it was, he felt pretty well contented. The rounds of leshella he ordered in honor of Breft made him even more so.
At one point Rajhir laughed out loud, thinking back to his first date with Flencik. That night he had ordered a single tiny bottle of leshella to impress the Imdiko, putting a sizable dent in his monthly allowance. Now the alcohol flowed freely, without a care for the cost. How far he had come.
Before they all got completely soused, Flencik was wise enough to arrange for their shuttle to be safely piloted home by a driving service. His last responsible act once they staggered into their quarters was to place stim tabs on the bedside table. He and Rajhir would be in desperate need of them when it came time to rise for work. The trio barely managed to undress before falling onto the sleeping mat. They all succumbed to instant slumber in a satisfied knot of arms and legs.
Four hours later, the three men were roused by an insistent beeping from the house’s com system. Rajhir groaned and tried to ignore it. Such calls happened infrequently when one of Flencik’s hospital patients had experienced a downturn.
The Imdiko muttered thickly and sat up. Rajhir cracked his eyes open to see Breft was alert and already on his feet. He scowled. It wasn’t fair Breft was able to shove aside the effects of alcohol so easily. Damned battle-ready Nobek.
Unaware he had made Rajhir cranky, Breft helped Flencik stand. Flencik grabbed a couple of the waiting stim tabs before acknowledging the beeping com.
“Answer. Dr. Flencik here,” he mumbled, still more asleep than awake.
A voice that sounded vaguely familiar to Rajhir transmitted. “This is Captain Cyt of the Royal Guard. I need to speak to Dramok Rajhir immediately.”
The Royal Guard? Something was up with the Imperial Clan then. Rajhir sat up and held his hand out. Flencik dropped the stim tabs in his palm, and Rajhir paused long enough to reflect how glad he was that leshella didn’t lead to hangovers. He still felt fuzzy-headed, however.
“This is Dramok Rajhir. How may I help you, Captain?”
“You are needed at the Royal House right away, Dramok. There has been an attack on Emperor Zarl.”
All at once, Rajhir didn’t need stim tabs to wake or clear the effects of drink from his system. His heart slammed in his chest and he sprang out of bed, rushing to his private room for clothes.
As he ran he continued speaking with the unseen Cyt. “Is he all right, Captain?”
“I must refrain from sharing any further information until you arrive.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Cyt out.”
Rajhir yanked on a formsuit within seconds. He grabbed a pair of knee high boots and pulled those on too.
He didn’t know Breft had followed him into his private room until the Nobek spoke. “Is it normal protocol for the Royal Guards to summon you in such a situation?”
Rajhir rushed back to the bedroom, where his belt lay on the floor. His handheld computer and com were attached to it, among other items he would need. As a now wide-awake Flencik helped him strap it on, he told the following Nobek, “I am Zarl’s aide. Of course they’d call me in a matter like this.”
Breft scowled. “But if the emperor is hurt, why are they not sending you to the hospital? Isn’t that where he would be?”
Rajhir appreciated Breft’s concern, but in his rush he was a little impatient with his clanmate. “Obviously I’m to go to the Royal House because that was where Zarl was attacked. I’m needed to answer questions and make arrangements. What’s the point of me going to the hospital? I can’t treat the emperor, now can I?”
Breft opened his mouth, his expression saying he wanted to argue the point further. Rajhir fended him off by raising his hand. “Enough questions, Breft. I’ve got to go!”
He tore out of the house, taking the in-house conveyance to get to his personal shuttle. Rajhir urged the transport to hurry, hurry, his mind running over a hundred different scenarios of how an attacker could have gotten past not only the Royal Guard, but Emperor Yuder too.
“Thank the ancestors they didn’t go after the empress,” he muttered to himself.
It seemed like forever before the door opened to the shuttle bay. Rajhir was in the cockpit of his vessel seconds later, powering the small craft up and signaling the bay’s security and safety monitors for clearance to fly out. The instant it was given he lifted off and flew to the bay’s exit.
The last thing he saw before leaving the cliff was Breft running into the bay. Rajhir shook his head at the Nobek’s continued protectiveness, but he smiled a little just the same. At least Breft took his responsibilities seriously. Maybe the youngling wasn’t what Rajhir had had in mind for his third clanmate, but it seemed things would turn out all right after all.
The shuttle hummed smooth and sure as it pulled into the traffic grid. Rajhir had been in a rush upon hearing that Zarl had been attacked, but he let automatic controls pilot the vehicle into the usual course at a safe speed. As he’d told Breft, there wasn’t anything he could do to help the emperor’s well-being. It made no sense to fly recklessly, endangering himself and others.
There was barely any traffic at this time of night anyway, and the shuttle was picking up a fair amount of speed. Rajhir would get to the Royal House in less than two minutes. The outer vid display showed a star-sprinkled sky. The beach below was barely visible in the pale moonlight. Rajhir had not bothered to switch on the cabin lights, leaving only the control console’s indicators to illuminate the cockpit.
When fierce light suddenly bloomed on the outer vid’s feed, it blinded Rajhir. He yelled in surprise, throwing his hands up to shield his eyes. The shuttle made a strange booming sound, as if some mighty beast had punched its underbelly. Then the hum of the engine caught and died.
The light disappeared, leaving Rajhir in darkness once more. It was blacker than before because the outer vid had disappeared and the lights on the console were out. Eerie silence descended, making Rajhir feel deaf as well as blind for the space of two seconds.
In that moment of perfect suspended stillness, he felt his seat beneath him shift and try to fall away. He realized the shuttle was plunging to the ground and taking him with it.
The emergency claxons shrieked to life and reddish light from the backup power poured into the cockpit. Rajhir slammed back into his seat as the emergency restraint system came on line. The console came back to life, but all the indicators blinked wildly, signaling widespread systems failures. Rajhir’s fingers flew over them, trying to coax the tiny ship’s engine to start. He cursed and slammed his fist down when the console went black again.
He had a moment to think Breft had been right, that the com rousing him to get in his shuttle had been a ruse all along. The Dramok experienced rage that not only had he been too easily fooled, but that he had been so quick to dismiss Breft’s concern.
Rajhir also felt comfort in that moment before the shuttle slammed into the beach. Had he possessed time to contemplate the thought that occurred to him just before his vehicle crashed nose first, Rajhir would have thought it was a good notion to go out on.
