House of Fate

by Barbara Ann Wright

  What would Ama do if Annika went back to her? All her careful plans had come undone. Even if Nocturna had her kidnapped, they couldn’t have planned for her escape, for everything she did afterward. Maybe Ama would exile her as she’d claimed to have done to Annika’s mother. She’d be Annika of No House, as nameless as anyone from an unaffiliated world.

  The thought should have upset her. She was certain it would have upset Noal and Judit. Annika’s mother hadn’t been Nocturna Blood. She’d been picked to wed Annika’s father for her excellent genes, and she’d been well rewarded, but something had gone wrong. The official record, Ama’s record, listed her as an exile, but Annika knew the truth. Her mother had fled so she wouldn’t become a strategic corpse, a disposable resource in Nocturna’s schemes. It happened often; it had happened to Annika’s grandfather. But no one knew where she’d gone.

  When she’d fled, did she feel this free? Maybe she’d made allies as Annika had. The Damat could be her new house now. When Judit smiled at her, Annika knew she’d always have a place here. A comforting thought. It wouldn’t have been as nice to be alone. Part of her wanted to suggest they head for the outer reaches and make a home where no one would find them, but the fate of the galaxy seemed to weigh on Judit more than it ever had on Annika. She and Noal cared about the lives of strangers—even if Noal wouldn’t admit it—something Nocturna had cured Annika of years ago.

  She sighed. That wasn’t precisely true. She did care a bit what happened to Spartan. He’d been sucked into a dangerous adventure, though he should have been able to adapt. The thought of an ever-changing situation excited her. They should all be excited. They were free!

  Annika smiled as she watched the hierophant’s temple come closer still. Carved from a huge asteroid to resemble a ziggurat, it floated like an ancient temple among the stars. Umbilical airlocks trailed lazily underneath it like the tentacles of some giant monster, and the only ships docked were those the hierophants took to look into the heart of the galaxy itself, small shuttles designed for speed and good transmission strength.

  The Eye was located as close to the heart of the galaxy as one could get without being slowly drawn in. The only thing closer was the last transmission gate before the black holes themselves. The light from the galaxy’s center shone around the Eye as the Damat approached, lighting it from behind as if the universe itself was aflame.

  It was something of an illusion. The black holes themselves emitted no light; such a massive singularity consumed light as it consumed everything, but that devoured light made the black holes glow before they extinguished it forever. The closer the hierophants came to the event horizon, the more they saw, and they transmitted what they’d seen to the rest of the galaxy. Most returned to find that time had moved on without them. Their prophecies might have arrived too late, and they sometimes returned years after they’d departed but were as young as they’d been when they’d left, preserved in the distorted time of the black holes.

  Annika thought of Willa, the hierophant who had prophesied that a chosen one would unite Meridian and Nocturna. She’d had a way of looking at things and speaking of them in ways that everyone could understand, even if they then interpreted those prophecies however they wished. She’d seen the future right until she’d gone over the edge of the event horizon into oblivion.

  In her head, Annika went over the Nocturna spies she knew of in the temple. When someone became a hierophant, they were supposed to leave behind house affiliations, but every house had spies in the temple, though the information they gleaned was often the same as everyone else received: the same vague prophecies, the same petty bureaucratic fights that infected any hierarchy. No one house had ever succeeded in taking over the temple or feeding misinformation to the rest of the galaxy. There were simply too many parties at work, and too many hierophants who truly believed in the cause. Since they performed so many official ceremonies, they were welcomed anywhere in the galaxy.

  “We need to be careful what we say and to whom,” Annika said close to Judit’s ear. “There’s more than one Nocturna in there.”

  Judit gave her a curious glance. “Apart from the spies you already told us about? Did any of them give up their house when they joined?”

  Annika sighed. “They really kept you and Noal locked away, didn’t they?”

  “At least we know how to trust people,” Noal said from Judit’s other side.

  Before Annika could retort, Judit cleared her throat. “You two should keep working together. You balance each other out.”

  Roberts had his hand to his ear, listening. “They want to know our purpose, Boss.”

  “Tell them we’re bringing a new initiate.” When Annika gave her a questioning glance, Judit shrugged. “We can’t tell them the real reason, right?”

  “You’re more devious than I thought,” Annika said.

  “Who’s it going to be?” Noal asked.

  Judit shrugged. “Go see if Spartan is still as uninterested in creds as he pretended to be.”

  Noal seemed almost happy as he left the bridge. Maybe he was happy to be of use, even if it was just running Judit’s errands.

  To his credit, Spartan listened to Judit’s whole proposal before saying no. “I’ve gone as deep in as I want to go. All I want is out.”

  “This is your chance,” Judit said. “If you go aboard the Eye posing as an initiate, and we get the information we want, we can leave you here. It may take you a while to find a ship, but you’d be on your way.”

  He rubbed his hands through his hair and then smoothed them down his face, stretching the skin. “So, that’s your threat, huh? I do this, or I’m stuck on this ship forever?”

  “We’re not in a position to drop you off somewhere else,” Annika said. “And we’re not the safest people to be with.”

  “I know you said it doesn’t matter,” Noal said, “but we can reward you. You can buy passage on the next ship that visits.”

  “How soon is that likely to be?” Spartan asked.

  They all had to shrug.

  He sighed hard. “I guess I have no choice. I’m your new initiate.”

  Noal clapped him on the shoulder. “Welcome to House Meridian.”

  They got him ready as quickly as they could, dressing him in something more suitable to a house member and transferring creds into his account for him to access later. He’d be a cousin in Meridian with the others posing as escort and house members who stopped in to pick up new prophecies. Of course, everyone would also suspect them of checking in with their spies, and in disguise as a Meridian guardian, Annika intended to do just that.

  Beatrice caught up to them and pulled Judit aside for a whispered conversation. Annika admired the attempt at secrecy even as she wanted to know what was going on. She turned to see Noal watching her. He was frowning, probably expecting her to try to eavesdrop, but she turned to Spartan, who seemed nervous as the Damat hooked up to an umbilical from the Eye.

  “Ever slid up one of these before?” Annika asked.

  He shook his head. “I like the kind of airlocks you walk through.”

  “You stand under the hatch, take a little jump, and up you’ll go. It can be a bit hard on the stomach. Be ready to step out once you’re up there and make way for the next person.”

  Judit crossed over while one of the crewmen secured the umbilical. Annika tried not to ask, even biting her tongue. When Judit leaned toward her ear, Annika breathed out slowly, relieved she didn’t have to ask. That was both a flaw and a wonderful thing about Judit.

  “Beatrice reminded me that as captain, I shouldn’t be going,” Judit said.

  “And you’re ignoring her as usual?”

  “Someday, she’ll hit me over the head.”

  Annika chuckled. “And you gave her an order to distract her from worrying about you?” When Judit pulled back in surprise, Annika smiled wider. “I’ve watched you two together. I know you’re close.”

  “Not like you and me. You know that, right?”r />
  Annika nodded. Watching them together, she knew they were friends, not lovers.

  Judit gave her hand a squeeze. “I told her to speak with Elidia again. Maybe House Munn can give us more information if she contacts them.”

  “Aren’t you worried she’ll give our position away?”

  “Roberts will bounce the signal so they won’t be able to tell where it’s coming from. And Elidia doesn’t know exactly where we are. Even if she manages to blurt out something before Evie or Beatrice tackle her, we’ll be gone before Munn gets here.”

  It sounded like a long shot, but that was what life seemed full of these days.

  When the umbilical was connected, Judit stepped to the front, but Annika touched her arm. “If I’m your guardian, I’m going first.”

  Judit’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded. Annika wondered what would happen when she finally let go of that tightly wound control, and the thought made her shiver.

  A green light flashed. Annika stepped into the airlock and looked to the open door above where the long tube of the umbilical connected. She jumped, and a current of air sucked her upward. The opaque tube wouldn’t let her see the surrounding space, but she was ready for the shock of cold. Not enough to harm her, it still took her breath away. She pulled her knees up, ready to land when the docking hallway of the Eye popped into view. She planted her feet on either side of the tube and stepped out of the way, ready for trouble.

  No such luck. There was only a contingent of hierophants who’d come to welcome their new initiate. Annika had tied her hair up under a cap again, and she wore a Meridian uniform. They’d disguised her features with makeup, and the hierophants didn’t seem to recognize her. They peered around her as if waiting for the real visitors to arrive.

  Judit didn’t wait for the all clear before she hopped aboard. Noal came next, then Spartan. The hierophants gathered around Noal and Judit, welcoming them and asking questions about their newest initiate. Spartan didn’t look like a Meridian, making him a distant cousin, not worthy of much fuss. After the hierophants told Noal and Judit that they were welcome as long as they wanted to stay, the Meridians were turned over to one low-ranking member doomed to show them around.

  “We’d like to stay a little while,” Judit said, “to make sure our cousin settles in.”

  “Of course.” The hierophant’s wide eyes and eager smile said she was elated to be of use and terrified she might piss them off. “I’ll show you to some quarters. The very best, I promise!”

  “I’m sure,” Noal said, all smiles and oozing condescension.

  As they walked, Annika pulled Spartan close. “Go through the motions. Keep them busy.”

  He snorted a laugh. “What do you suggest I do? Light my quarters on fire?”

  “Weren’t you in charge of keeping people entertained on the Xerxes?”

  “We had gambling there!”

  She shrugged. “Might be high time they had it here.”

  He gave her a strange look, but the words seemed to make him thoughtful. When they split up for him—Spartan saying loudly that he still needed to make his final decision about staying—he seemed to have a plan brewing.

  Once behind closed doors, Annika made a sweep for cameras and found none. “It’s almost quaint.”

  Noal seemed as if he might say something, but Judit put a hand on his shoulder. “What’s next?”

  “I make contact with the Nocturna spy,” Annika said. “He can tell us if Feric’s been here. I’ll ask about any prophecies the hierophants have been less than forthcoming about or any vague prophecies they haven’t bothered to release. He’ll probably recognize me, but I’ll tell him I’m running a mission.”

  “That might not stop him from contacting Nocturna,” Noal said.

  Annika nodded. “We’ll have to be quick.”

  “Be careful.” Judit had so much feeling in her eyes, Annika could have kissed her right then, but not with Noal there. She hurried from the room, thinking on all she knew about her family’s spy network. The one aboard the temple shouldn’t be hard to find.

  * * *

  Judit paced the room for nearly an hour, finding little else to do. Noal watched her with a bored expression. She kept waiting for him to tell her to calm down, but maybe he knew now wasn’t the time for calm. She wondered if this was what life was going to be like from now on: Noal waiting for her to act. Since he wasn’t the chosen one, he probably didn’t know what else to do.

  She clacked her teeth together. “Bea?”

  “Here, Jude.”

  This close, they could use their own ship comm, and the chances of someone listening in were far less than with a long-range transmission. “How did it go with Elidia?”

  “She’s going to send some coded messages rather than trying to speak directly with her house. We figured that would be safer. I’ve got the computer working on the code, and it looks as if she’s asking for info and warning them to stay out of any fights. She doesn’t want her house getting into a battle with Meridian or Nocturna, especially not now that her partner houses seem to be squeezing Munn out of their holdings.”

  “Right,” Judit said. “Keep me posted.” She clicked her teeth again, cutting the comm.

  Noal continued to stare.

  “What?”

  “You know I can’t hear the conversations you have in your head, right?”

  She breathed a laugh. “We should get you an implant.”

  “So someone can blather in my ear night and day? No, thank you.” He sat back and toyed with the edge of a cushion. “So?”

  She told him about the messages, and he nodded. “Sounds about right,” he said. “When she thought she had allies, Elidia was ready to pick a fight, but now that her house might be standing alone, it’s a different story. At least now we know she’s not a fool.”

  “I never thought she was. Just headstrong.”

  “Something you admire,” he said, nudging her with a toe.

  She let that pass. “What’s going on, Noal? What’s your take on all this?”

  “You mean, from the perspective of the chosen one?” Before she could say anything, he held up a hand. “Don’t, don’t. I’m feeling sorry for myself. I think Annika’s right. Someone started this whole thing, even if it didn’t end up as they planned. I think someone’s been waiting for an opportunity, pushing buttons.”

  “Nocturna?”

  “That’s where the mind wants to go, but I’m not certain.” He sat forward and licked his lips. “About Annika…”

  “I know what you’re going to say.”

  “You weren’t there, Jude. You didn’t see her killing people.”

  “We all do what we have to do.”

  He shook his head. “You didn’t see her face.”

  She rounded on him, temper getting the better of her. “Now you’re going to tell me she’s a fiendish killer? That she liked it? Licked the blood off the walls?”

  He stood and got in her face, something he’d never done before. It almost made her back up. “She didn’t look like anything, Jude. She was sedate. She might as well have been a machine reaping wheat.” His eyes were intense, unblinking, and she knew Annika had terrified him more than anyone ever had.

  She put her hands on his shoulders, trying to hear him but unable to picture it. And Noal could be so dramatic at times. “You still care about her, and that tells me the Annika we knew is the real one. Whatever her family did to her, she’s still—”

  With a sigh, he sat again, the bored expression pulled back over his face like a mask. “You’ve got it bad. I knew you wouldn’t listen.”

  The door chimed, and Judit fought her temper down before she spoke. “Come in.”

  The hierophant who’d led them to their quarters was back, an eager smile on her face. “I thought you might like a tour.”

  Judit was about to decline, but Noal stood. “We would indeed,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to see the archives. I could spend hours pawing thr
ough the fascinating prophecies that were never untangled.”

  The hierophant beamed. Judit followed as she led the way. She wanted to wait for Annika, but if there was trouble, Noal was the one who couldn’t look after himself. Judit tried not to grumble as the hierophant droned about history, tried not to stomp as they arrived in a room in the center of the Eye, the space dominated by a large black surface surrounded by chairs.

  “This room stores the unknown prophecies,” the hierophant said. “Those too muddy or garbled or that make no sense in the galaxy as we know it.”

  Noal nodded, expression impressed. “Can we have a moment?”

  “Of course! Take your time.”

  When she left, Judit noticed a hum, as if the whole room was meditating. She wondered if it helped some people. Noal passed a hand over the surface, and it winked to life, small green lights glittering along it.

  “Query. How many unknown prophecies are there?” he asked.

  The number 7,560,432 appeared as a holo display.

  Judit sank down in a chair. “Wonderful.”

  “They must babble nonstop while they’re out there. Query. How many unknown prophecies mention the chosen one of House Meridian?”

  The display read 7,000 prophecies mentioning House Meridian. 2,604 mentioning chosen one and House Meridian.

  Judit whistled softly. “Popular topic.”

  “I guess Willa’s prophecy mentioning me…or you…won’t be in here, since it’s one of the official prophecies.”

  “And searching by time won’t help. What period of time the hierophant saw depends on how close they got to the event horizon and how far time was dilated.”

  He passed his hand over the console again. “Let’s just check. Query. How many of those prophecies were from Willa?”

  Zero, the display read. He sighed, a frustrated sound. “Query. How many of Willa’s prophecies are labeled unknown?”

  Zero.

  “I heard she didn’t make many,” Judit said. “All of them must have been good.”

  “So, unless you want to sit and read a couple thousand prophecies, this was a giant waste of time.”