Imprint of Blood

by Phil Huddleston

  They took him to a locker room and told him to clean up and change. When he came out of the showers, new clothes were waiting for him – an armored kilt and breastplate like Lieutenant Pallis and his men wore, a weapons belt like theirs, and a new sword. His old kit had disappeared. Jake dressed and stepped out of the locker room, where a slave awaited.

  “I’ll take you to Prince Adrian, sir,” said the slave, and set off briskly across the back garden of the grounds. Jake followed closely behind, taking his first unimpeded look at the Imperial Palace. It was magnificent, spread across more than two hundred acres. Surrounded by a moat and wall on the three sides facing the city, to his right the wall was backed by a steep drop down a cliff to the river Thermodon. The back half of the grounds contained the main garden, the stables, barracks for the Palace Guard, servant quarters and logistical buildings such as kitchen supplies and storage. Jake had never seen the front gate of the Palace, but he understood from hearsay it was heavily guarded. Empress Miranda was not popular with the masses, and there was a well-developed rebellion burning in the outskirts of the Empire.

  The slave led him into the Palace proper, and after following a few corridors came to an office complex. He motioned Jake to a chair outside an office with a sign on the door, “Palace Guard”. Jake sat and waited, thoughts running through his head. This could be a huge mistake. Undoubtedly, they would run deep background checks on him. He wasn’t sure if his cover identity would hold up. Perhaps he should just bolt at this point and return to the Tavern, have Metrodora get him off Aeolis as quickly as possible. Perhaps he should have thrown the evaluation, intentionally failed the physical testing. But that was just not his way. He was still contemplating his options when the door opened, and another slave motioned him in. Jake got to his feet and entered. There was a small anteroom, where the slave returned to his desk. Beyond, a door led to an inner office. Inside the office, a man in uniform waved him in. Jake entered and stood at attention in front of the desk. The man smiled up at him.

  “At ease, Zeno,” he said. He leaned back and took Jake’s measure slowly, in no rush. Jake relaxed slightly, still holding a loose attention as he thought befitted the situation.

  “I’m Prince Adrian, I help manage the Palace Guard for my sister, the Empress,” said the man. “First, I want to thank you for saving Antiope’s life last night. Antiope is my favorite niece, especially since her husband died. So, my personal, special thanks to you for helping her.”

  “Of course, sir,” Jake nodded, afraid to say too much. He had noticed that the nobles had a slightly different accent, or manner of speaking, than he had learned. He wasn’t sure if his own accent would match his cover story completely, so he decided to say as little as possible.

  Prince Adrian looked down at the invisible personal holo in front of him, one that only he could see. Jake was sure it contained his background information. Adrian grunted, once, then looked back at Jake.

  “Two years fighting the rebels on Maia, before we were pushed off there,” he said. “What did you think about the war there?”

  Jake thought quickly. It seemed there was no right answer to that. If he said the war had been fought poorly – which it had – he might be criticizing something that Prince Adrian had been personally involved in. On the other hand, to say it had been fought well would reveal more, since it had been a disaster from the start. Jake tried to be non-committal.

  “It could have gone better, sir.”

  Adrian grinned hugely. “Good answer, but I think we both know it was a mess.”

  Adrian looked down at the holo again. “Who did you serve under there?”

  “Colonel Atraeus, sir.”

  “Ah,” said Adrian. “She was killed at Maia, last year.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Jake. He said a silent thanks to Metrodora and her team for such a solid back story.

  “And who was your Regimental Commander?”

  “Captain Charis, sir.”

  Adrian nodded. “A good officer. I believe she is still serving out at Rhodes.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jake responded. He knew that Captain Charis was one of theirs, an Earther who had joined the Imperial Marines, but still maintained her secret life as RDF Intelligence. She had been briefed on Jake’s cover story and would back it to the hilt. And had undoubtedly already been contacted and confirmed Jake’s backstory, or he wouldn’t be standing here now.

  Adrian closed the holo with a flip of his hand and tilted his head to the side.

  “Why would you want to join the Palace Guard? You’re pretty old to be doing this kind of work.”

  Jake thought for a second. “Sir, I have no other skills except protecting and defending people. That’s what I do best. And I can’t think of any better place to do it.”

  Adrian looked askance for a second. “I’m willing to bet you have other skills, Zeno, but we’ll leave that for another day.” He stood and walked around the desk, coming to a stop in front of Jake. He looked Jake squarely in the eye.

  “You take good care of my niece, Zeno.”

  Jake nodded. Adrian raised his hand, in the Aeolian fashion of a handshake, which Jake had learned. It consisted of a mutual push, hand to hand, in front of the body. He raised his hand and they pushed together. Adrian had one more statement to make.

  “And the Creator help you if you screw up, son,” he said, returning to his place behind the desk. “You’ll be in training for the next ten weeks, but you’ll stand duty at the same time. So you’ll be busy. I hope your old body can take it. Find your way back to the barracks and Captain Herakles will finish outfitting you and give you your training assignments.”

  Jake snapped to attention, gave the Aeolian salute – his right fingertips to his left shoulder – and left the office. All the way out the building and across the gardens to the barracks, one thought kept circling his mind. “I can still run,” he kept thinking. But in the end, he didn’t. It just wasn’t his way.

  ***

  Empress Miranda snorted, almost inhaling wine up her nose. She coughed with laughter, then set the wineglass down on the table, shaking her head.

  "The very idea! Men! In government? It's ridiculous - laughable! They can just barely wipe their own asses, much less serve in political office!"

  Her retinue of noble women chuckled and nodded, enjoying the power play of having lunch with the Empress. Miranda continued.

  “And this idea of creating a democracy – it’s a joke! The lesser peoples can’t rule themselves…that’s why the Creator sent us Amazons along when he cast them down from heaven to this planet – to rule!”

  Agreement echoed around the table. Miranda took a long draught of her wine.

  “But now, we’ve got this damn rebellion going on,” she said. “And it’s really a pain in the ass. It’s costing the Treasury a month’s worth of revenue each year, just to suppress these damn rebels. I want it stopped!”

  She leaned forward and thrust her finger in the face of the assembled women around the table. “I’m counting on you here to help me in this. We’re going to find the people who are mouthing off about this idea of democracy and male freedom, and we’re going to put a stop to it!”

  The women clapped loudly, some rising to their feet as the Empress beamed. A male slave entered the room quietly and waited for the tumult to die down a bit, then announced, “Luncheon is served, Mum.”

  Miranda nodded and waved at him. He bowed and snapped his fingers. Behind him, a small army of slaves brought in a litany of fine foods for the noble ladies, while others filled their wine glasses. Miranda looked on with satisfaction. This was how things should be, she thought. Us at the top, and everyone else below.

  ***

  “Who is Prince Adrian?” asked Jake, resting between sparring matches with Lieutenant Pallis in the barracks gym. Sweat dripped off his forehead and arms.

  Pallis grunted. “Empress Miranda’s younger brother,” he replied.

  “So, Antiope’s uncle, then,” said Jake
.

  “Yep,” said Pallis. “A good ‘un, for a noble.”

  Jake nodded. “And Antiope’s mother?”

  “Princess Merope,” said Pallis. “Not a good ‘un, if you know what I mean. Stay away from her.”

  Jake nodded again. “Thanks. What about Miranda’s children?”

  Pallis looked at him guardedly. “No children, so far. Don’t talk ‘bout that, if you want to stay alive.”

  “Got it,” said Jake. “And what’s this I hear that you shouldn’t talk about the Earther myth around here?”

  Pallis almost blanched. “Don’t even breathe anything about that. Miranda hates that whole crackpot idea. If you want to really disappear – as in forever – then just talk about that where it can get back to her.”

  Jake winked. “Got it. Never heard of it.”

  “Good,” Pallis said. “Now c’mon, we’ve got another forty-five minutes to work and you need to get a whole lot better at this, old man. I beat you six out of nine so far. That ain’t gonna get it, you know.”

  Jake sighed, wiped his towel across his face and got up off the bench.

  ***

  Two weeks later, Jake had a rare night off, so he went back to the tavern and checked in with Metrodora. They were sitting at a table in the back of the bar, catching up and trying to talk through the whole chain of events of recent weeks, when suddenly Jake realized someone was standing beside their table. He looked up to see Prince Adrian there, gazing down at them.

  “Well, hello, Zeno,” said the Prince. “Hello, Metrodora.”

  Jake started to rise, but before he could do so, Adrian waved him down and took a seat at the table. “No, no, at ease, Zeno. I’m just out for a drink tonight, we’re not on duty.”

  Jake nodded, and sat back down. He glanced at Metrodora, somewhat at a loss as to how to proceed, but she had things well in hand.

  “Prince Adrian, how gracious of you to visit us again. I haven’t seen you in weeks!”

  “I’m so sorry, dear. This rebellion out in the Fringe is really chewing up my time.”

  Metrodora placed a hand on top of Prince Adrian’s, with a sideways wink at Zeno.

  “Zeno, I probably failed to mention it to you before, but Prince Adrian and I are old friends.”

  Jake nodded, afraid to say anything for fear it would come out wrong. He sat quietly while Metrodora ordered Adrian a drink and they chatted, catching up on mutual friends and recent events. Finally, after a few minutes, Adrian turned to Jake.

  “So, what do you think about the Rebellion, Zeno? Do you think we should turn to democracy? Allow men into the officer corps?”

  Jake shook his head. “No, sir, I can’t say that I do.” Jake bit his tongue to say it.

  Adrian grinned at him. “A politically correct answer, Zeno, but not one that I believe. But I won’t press you on it. But I will tell you this. We are at a crossroads in our society. For three thousand years, things rocked along smoothly. But the pressure of an empire expanding across a hundred and fifty light years has changed things. The Fringe planets have learned what freedom means. They’ve gotten a taste of independence, and they like it. They’re not going to let go of it easily.”

  Jake thought for a moment. “So, you think it’s going to be a long war?”

  “I do,” said Adrian. “Partly because the zealots on the other side believe they have right on their side, and maybe they even do have, a little. And mostly because my sister doesn’t take it seriously enough to put the resources in place to fight it properly.”

  “Shh,” hushed Metrodora to Adrian, shaking his hand. “Don’t say things like that in public!”

  Adrian grinned. “Maybe I feel like living dangerously tonight.”

  Jake caught a sideways glance from Metrodora and got the message. He rose from his place at the table.

  “Prince Adrian, if you are with Metrodora, then you are already living dangerously,” he said. “But I’ll leave you to it.”

  Adrian smiled up at him. “See you tomorrow.”

  Jake nodded. “Until then.”

  ***

  A hundred light years away on Maia, Eugenius pointed to the holo. “We’ve no long-term chance fighting them on the planets. We have to take the fight to them.”

  Beside him, a half-dozen of his peers stared at him as if he had grown two heads. “We can’t take them on in space! My Stars, man, they have more warships than they know what to do with!”

  Eugenius nodded. “You’re right. But we won’t take them on in space. We’ll destroy the Empire at its heart – Aronte.”

  He flipped to another display on the holo, showing the city of Aronte on Aeolis. “We take out the Imperial Palace, the Navy Yard and the Imperial Naval Academy. That eliminates the entire AEN infrastructure at one blow. We capture Aronte, they’ll give us independence. It’s that simple.”

  Anicetus, his chief lieutenant, shook his head. “Impossible. They keep a Home Fleet of at least a half-dozen ships guarding Aronte, and another half-dozen in the system, including at least two battleships. It can’t be done.”

  Eugenius smiled. “It can be done, and I’m going to show you how to do it. We’ve got eleven planets now. Twenty-five percent of the Empire. We’ve got two shipyards – Hercules at Amasya, Empire at Maia. When we captured Maia, there were four AEN cruisers under construction there. At Amasya, we’ve got two destroyers started. We’ve also got four fast merchant ships that can be converted to destroyers. By this time next year, we’ll have ten, eleven warships.”

  Anicetus shook his head. “So what? You’re going to take on two battleship task forces with ten ships?”

  Eugenius grinned. “No…I’m going to take on at most two cruisers and two destroyers with eleven ships. Let me show you how…”

  ***

  Afterward, at the local bar, Anicetus sat with Eugenius, nursing a beer. Eugenius was in a fine mood, having obtained initial agreement from his team to go forward with his plan to attack Aronte directly. Anicetus was not so sure.

  “I’m afraid you’re just using this as an excuse to kill some Imperials.” he said to Eugenius. “We can’t afford to be emotional about this. We have to win this war, or everything we’ve fought for comes to nothing.”

  Eugenius drank his beer, then put the glass back down on the table.

  “No,” he said. “I’m not being emotional about it. I know what’s at stake.”

  Eugenius motioned to the waiter to bring another beer.

  “But this is our best chance of success. Decapitating the Imperials, destroying the Navy Yard, killing all their new officers, all at one blow. That will be enough. They’ll come begging for peace and give us our independence.”

  The waiter dropped another beer in front of him and left. Eugenius took a long drink.

  “Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing I’d like better than to kill some of those bitches – especially that bitch Satra. If I ever get the Kleitos in my sights…”

  City of Aronte

  19 March 2140

  "Take me sailing!" said Princess Antiope. She danced in front of Jake in the hallway outside her chambers.

  Jake stood at parade rest but bowed his head. "M'lady. I am on duty."

  Antiope grinned impishly. "I can take you off duty."

  Jake groaned. "M'lady, please. The Captain is already looking for reasons to give me trouble."

  Antiope sidled up very close to him. She was so close he could smell her. She turned her face up to his. "I command you to give me a sailing lesson, Zeno!"

  Jake sighed. "Yes, M'lady. I'll call for a detail to accompany us."

  "No, you won't," said Antiope. She grinned again. "We'll be fine."

  "It's too dangerous to go alone, M’lady!" Jake protested.

  "No, it...is...fine!" Antiope said. She grabbed him by the arm and attempted to frog-march him down the hall, with little success. Jake gave in and began moving, but as they walked toward the back of the palace, he thought a mental code into his new comm bead.
Captain Herakles had been aghast when he found out that Jake was using an archaic wrist comm and had immediately had an internal comm implanted in Jake’s head. The only outward evidence of the comm was a small blue bead on his left temple, about the size of a pinhead. It normally glowed when in use, so that others could see he was communicating and not interrupt him. It then fed into the backup comm on his wrist or into his tablet for amplification and transmission. Like his old RDF MEMSAI that Jake had given up when he came to Aronte, which functioned in a similar way, the comm bead could read his thoughts to some degree. Not his deep, inner thoughts, thank the Creator, but he could project a thought and it would recognize his intent. So, as they exited the palace and walked toward the back entrance to the streets, six additional Guardsmen waited beside the exit gate.

  "Oh, hell, Zeno...couldn't you let me have some fun?" complained Antiope.

  Now it was Jake's turn to grin. "Oh, you'll have fun, M’lady," he said. "We'll just do it safely." He nodded to the other guards, who opened the gate for them and fell in around Antiope as they exited the Palace grounds and walked toward the waterfront.

  Antiope danced ahead, challenging Jake and his companions to maintain a safety cordon around her. In his six weeks on her personal safety detail, he had learned that Antiope was a creature of wonder, completely fearless, impossibly energetic, fierce as a lioness. It was hard to believe she was twenty-six years old, and had a child, Hippolyta, by her first husband, Prince Hyginus. Hyginus had been killed fighting in the Rebellion a few years earlier.