by F. E. Arliss
It was time for them to be trained in the ways of other nests. They had learned all they could here upon Geboren. Sending them to be apprenticed to other Generals was not something she wished to do. But common sense told her that Freux, Monsav and Kor were right. They had to learn as much as possible in order to protect themselves. It caused her throat to tighten as she considered the prospect.
Preparing for this day had been a long time in coming. A year ago, when the three young Idolum had been adolescents, at least in the human growth model, she’d helped allay her fears for them by gifting each child with the first of the ancient Reiki symbols, hoping to open them as conduits to the energy around them. Juls had been heartily relieved when each of them was able to begin drawing energy from the ether around them. According to Freux, this was not a normal Idolum trait. Though he was as relieved as she to see them flourishing from it.
Throwing down her trowel, Juls swept by him in a queenly rush. Kor knew it was really to hide the tears in her eyes, and forgave her abrupt departure. Turning to follow her, he couldn’t help the lump that formed in his own throat. It would be hard to see the babies go. That was the problem; they weren’t babies any longer. They were adults.
Today Juls would gift them the second symbol in the Reiki tradition and would also impress upon the three siblings that their gift was dangerous and needed to be protected from others. It was imperative that others not know they possessed this gift. It would make them vulnerable as targets for other nests to kidnap and use, much as she’d been shanghaied into service for the Intergalactic Military.
After the ceremony, she, Freux, Monsave, Kor, and the children -- Zeus, Apollo, and Atlas -- would sit down and discuss the possible positions for their apprenticeships. Just thinking about it caused her to feel nauseous.
The ceremony was over soon enough. All three, to the amazement of the those present, which included most of both nests, all three immediately acquired a replica of Queen Altum Juls forehead tattoo. It was clear the gift of the symbol was working. It would be for each of the young adults to find out what the gift had bestowed upon them. It might well be different for each. Now they were seated around a table in her quarters. Inasmuch as the adults were gloomy and saddened, the three young adults were full of zest and excitement.
Zeus could barely sit still. The youngest by an hour and as full of energy as the lightning bolt of a god she’d been named after, her long white hair was plaited into intricate braids down each side of her head and her amber eyes were glowing with suppressed delight.
Apollo, the light-hearted charmer, was trying to exhibit a mature sangfroid, but the constant jittering of his legs gave his outward calm away. Long, glossy black hair fell in a straight waterfall to his waist. Juls always tried to hide her smile at his vanity over his hair. It was his one obsession. He brushed it a lot!
Atlas was the serious one. Juls sometimes wondered if the name itself, having been bestowed upon him, caused the young man to have the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was always serious and had taken all of the training of General Monsav and his holistic approaches to heart. He knew most of the animals in several galaxies and had a way with the slow hippolites of their world that allowed him to heal them easily. Ever thoughtful, he sat scowling slightly at his younger siblings’ enthusiasm.
General Freux heaved a sigh and said to his three offspring, “I want you to know that while this is all very exciting for you, it worries your mother and I very much. We will miss each of you and hope that these apprenticeships will serve you well. We want you to conduct yourself with honor, think for yourself, follow your own sense of right and wrong, learn as much as you can, and most of all protect what you love.
This planet’s time of harboring us from outside forces will soon be coming to an end. With your ventures into other nests, it will further become known that we’re here. That we have a sanctuary here. That exposure puts us all in danger. It is essential that each of you understand the danger this poses to yourselves and your nest.”
Queen Altum Juls looked at the three of them and her heart lurched at the sudden fleeting looks of fear that passed over their young faces. “I see that you have felt the fear that this will bring, if only fleetingly, at your father’s words. Good. You should be afraid. I know you want to hear words of reassurance, but I can not give them. You carry a gift that is powerful and dangerous. While it is a boon to you and those around you, it is also a danger. Others will covet it and try to take it. It can not be taken. It must be given, as each of you know. The universe does not know that. And the universe will try. Please be safe. Be wary. Trust no one. I am saddened by that advice, but it is wise advice,” she said huskily, tears thickening her voice.
They proceeded then, with General Kor and General Monsav laying out the possibilities for each of the nests available for apprenticeship. “The three safest and the ones that General Freux and Queen Altum Juls have agreed upon, are the nest of Queen Calli and General Sauvage; the nest of Queen Socir and General Houk; and the nest of Queen Bylar and General Beahr.” General Monsav said, handing each of the young people a description of each nest.
“Queen Calli and General Sauvage are probably the most similar to the nest you’re used to. They share our beliefs about honoring the energy-givers. On the other hand, Calli is very cold and Sauvage is a vicious warrior. They excel at manipulation, tactics, and weaponry,” droned General Kor. I believe that Apollo would be a good match for them. Their cool planning would be something he would benefit from. Plus, I think Sauvage would keep him from brushing his hair so much,” Kor added with a grin at the wincing Apollo. Gesturing at Monsav, he let him proceed with the next nest’s description.
“Queen Socir and General Houk are an odd match that seems to work. Socir is warm to those of her equal and Houk is a very gruff, rarely communicative general whose warriors follow on blind trust, as he explains nothing,” Monsav said, with a shake of his head. “If you’re wanting long heart to hearts about tactics with this general, you’ll be waiting forever. I recommend this nest for young miss Zeus,” he added.
Kor began on the last nest’s description, “Queen Bylar and General Beahr are outcasts to most Idolum because of their color. Both are a mottled black, though their hair is as expected...hers white, his black. They’ve suffered quite a lot of persecution. Sharp wits, strong wills and crazy tactics have earned them a reputation as unpredictable and formidable opponents. I would recommend this nest for Atlas. I believe he could benefit from their unusual thought processes,” he added, eyeing the serious young Idolum with a fond quirk of his lips.
None of the offspring disagreed with the proposed nests, though Juls could tell that each was trepidatious about their new assignments. Hugging each in turn, Freux and she sent them off to pack. It would be hard for them to wave them off cheerily, but it had to been done. An hour later, each child turned to wave at their parents before boarding General Monsav’s ship and setting off to the meeting point where each of the nests agreed to meet and pick them up. They would be with each nest for the next six months. Then perhaps move to another nest and learn the new processes there. It would take over a year to rotate through each of the nests, but by the end, they’d have a good idea of different tactics, styles, and policies in the running and managing of a complex nest.
Juls fell back against Freux as the ship disappeared from sight. He carried her silently crying form to her quarters and curled up next to her, holding her close. He needed her at that moment just as much as she needed him. They’d made a good team ever since they’d met over a nest of the few eggs they could salvage from his breeding with Queen Altum Vis. She’d become the center of his existence, and he, hers.
Everything would change now. The rest of the Idolum empire would know they existed. Conflict was inevitable. Once word got out that Juls was a strong conduit and that their offspring had the same ability, attempts to take them would be made. They’d spent the last three years planning for this eventuality. Now tha
t it was upon them, it was no easier to face. They’d made good plans. Planned for every scenario they could think of. Now it was up to them to hold steady and save what they loved, each other and their family.
Chapter Twenty
Exposure
Queen Altum Juls stood on the bridge of the Labrys with General Freux at her side. They would soon be meeting with a potential ally, a nest whose queen was known to be less than diplomatic and not a strong planner. It could be a meeting fraught with tension, as those types of queens rarely welcomed a ‘non-pure’ queen with open arms.
Juls had studied the materials about the proposed ally nest and believed she was as ready as she’d ever be to start working on gaining more allies in nests that weren’t necessarily without a queen, but lacked many supporters and connections.
“I don’t like this,” Freux stated. “I don’t trust this Queen; she is weak and volatile.”
“General Kor will be accompanying me. I’ll be fine. Of course, that is also why you’re staying aboard Labrys. If anything goes wrong, we will affect our escape and you will blow that nest to pieces,” Juls said, brushing her hand down his arm and clasping his hand.
“I should go with you. Kor can stay here,” Freux insisted with a frown. Raising the back of her clasped hand to his lips.
“Labrys is your vessel. Chronite does not like Kor and does not work as efficiently for him. You know that,” Juls murmured to him, grinning slightly. She knew that Freux actually liked the fact that Labrys’ brain, Chronite, did not like Kor very much. “Be vigilant, my darling. We may need to beat a hasty exit. As you said, I don’t like this Queen’s odds for intelligent interaction.”
Nodding to Kor, and reluctantly releasing Freux’s hand, she turned and headed towards the shuttle that would take them to the neighboring ship. She didn’t like the idea of meeting on the other ship, but there had been no nearby habitable planet to serve as a neutral meeting point. She should have listened to her gut. It was never wrong.
When the shuttle door opened aboard the ally ship, it revealed a warrior group of six Idolum males. A wave of seething hostility hit Juls with a great force. “This is not good, Kor,” she whispered. “They feel much animosity towards me. Make sure Dent and Axel stay close and have one of the warriors remain with the shuttle. We may need to leave quickly.” The big General nodded slightly.
Walking regally behind the warrior escort, one of their own worker-warriors in front, Dent and Axel at each side, and General Kor behind, Juls tried to keep her energy soothing. Slowly, the frenetic waves of resentment slowly calmed. By the time the group had reached a large door and entered what turned out to be a sort of large conference room, the ally-warriors were no longer on edge.
The door opened and revealed an Idolum queen of unusually short proportions. ‘Well, that explains it,’ Juls quipped into General Kor’s mind. She heard a muffled snort from behind.
Her worker-warrior stepped aside and allowed the ally-queen to approach. “Welcome to my nest, Queen Altum Juls,” the short, slightly grey-skinned queen said. A grimace that was supposed to be smile twisted her unattractive features into an even greater rictus. “I am Queen Kurd,” she announced.
Juls almost laughed out loud. She’d have to explain to Kor what a curd was on Earth. It was startlingly appropriate and uproariously funny. She was literally digging her nails into the side of her arm to keep herself from giggling hysterically. Aside from the fact that the rolling, seething patterns of mal-intent were making Juls feel slightly nauseous, this queen would never be able to work with someone that she resented so thoroughly.
This trip had been a waste of time. Now to cut losses and leave as soon as possible. She communicated all of this to General Kor in the few seconds it took for the queen to approach her and offer a slight bow.
“Queen Kurd, we are pleased to make your acquaintances,” Juls said with a slight reciprocal bow. “We understand that you would seek an alliance with our nest. We welcome all who honor the life-givers. How were we brought to your attention,” Juls asked, less than smoothly.
Queen Kurd’s brows quirked up, making her scrunched toad-like face appear even more like a startled jack-in-the-box. “Your nest is talked about far and wide, Queen Altum Juls, surely you know that?” Queen Kurd said with a faint sneer. “Many talk about the Queen who ‘honors the life-givers’ as you so proclaimed already. Most can’t decide which topic to discuss first, the ‘life-givers’ as more than food, or the un-pure queen that proclaims it. A recent council of Queens at an outpost in the Rayen system had information from a human organization called the Intergalactic Guard that you were actually a traitor to your own kind as well.”
So the gloves were off, Juls thought. Fine, she didn’t like this little toad either. “I am unsure what un-pure means,” Juls said calmly. “On my home world, beings that were bred to be completely pure, as they say, ended up having too many defects, including insanity, birth defects, and stupidity. Outside blood was the only cure,” she added, with a lift of one elegant eyebrow. There was another muffled choking sound behind her.
“As for my own kind, my nest is my own kind. That is all. Those I care for are my own kind. I do not share any allegiance with any that would harm them, denigrate them, or disseminate information about them that would lead to their harm. That is how I describe my own kind.” Juls said emphatically.
Queen Kurd’s already tiny eyes slitted further. A torrent of negative energy rolled over Juls. She simply flicked it away with a thought. The barrier she erected around her small group negated its mal-content into nothingness. “I see you are as witty as they claimed,” Queen Kurd said, a hint of derision tainting her voice.
“I am unsure who ‘they’ are,” Juls replied.
“You are unsure about most things it seems,” Kurd sneered openly now. “With that sort of deficient uncertainty, it wouldn't seem possible for you to have drawn such a large group of allies to you. What is your trick, Queen Altum Juls, that allows one who seems to know nothing to draw so many to her?” Queen Kurd asked. Unable to contain her resentment any longer, her voice rose into a sharp shriek at the end.
“I meant that I am unsure of what others are thinking,” Juls said quietly, and untruthfully. “I cannot control other people’s thoughts or actions. I can only control my own. I honor those that give life. I protect those things that I hold dear. Those are my only purposes. I do not seek power. I seek only to protect those I love. If that means having allies, then I seek allies. It would seem that you are not to be among those whom I call ally.”
“No, I think not,” Kurd sneered. “I called you here only to take your measure, which appears to be lacking,” she added coldly, her ugly face twisting again into a contortion of rage. “Food is food, impure one. I will not be dictated to about how I eat!”
Juls shrugged her elegant shoulders, looked down her long straight nose at the troll-like queen, and added calmly. “I am sorry for wasting your time, Queen Kurd. Please accept my apologies.” With that, Juls turned to leave. Ten regal strides later she felt the disturbance of a peak of negative energy. Without halting Juls simply pivoted, caught the knife mid-air, and continued on through the open door as though nothing had happened.
A shriek of rage exploded behind them. ‘Run!’ Juls barked mentally to her squad. ‘We don’t want to have to inflict damage unless absolutely necessary.’ The door to the conference room whisked shut behind them. Juls slapped the knife in her hand into the control pad, damaging the control mechanisms. Then, halting for a moment to gather her energy, she began to walk purposefully towards the shuttle bay.
Waves of calming energy rolled off her. Several of Queen Kurd’s worker-warriors saw them, then stepped back, uncertain what to do. It seemed Queen Kurd was ranting and raving, but had not been coherent enough in her rage to actually give orders. The soothing energy rolling off the group entering the shuttle bay did not seem threatening; rather, the worker-warrior felt it was imperative that the group be allowed to leave.
Nodding to the other warriors in the bay, the group was soon airborne. Only then were several missiles launched at the departing shuttle craft. Most missed. One bounced off an invisible barrier and detonated.
No sooner had Queen Kurd’s missiles detonated into empty air, than Labrys loosed a volley of blasts that did not detonate prematurely. The enemy queen’s ship was destroyed in minutes.
Later, having allowed the shuttle to land safely in Labrys’ shuttle bay, Juls explained what a curd was on Earth. There was a lot of guttural whirring Idolum laughter and a couple of very loud, straight out belly laughs.
It was funny now, but Juls knew that they had not made an enemy of Queen Kurd themselves. Someone else had made that enemy for them. It seemed like the entire Idolum race knew of them now. They were exposed. That exposure had been fueled by Shale she suspected. He needed to discredit them, as they were the only ones that knew he had murdered Queen Altum Vis.
Commanding General Kor to send messages to all their allies and to the nests that apprenticed her children, Juls sank into a contemplative silence. The time of tranquility was over. Long live the queen.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ambushed
The last few months had been hard work. Good work, but hard. Juls, Kor, Freux and Monsav had worked endlessly to shore up the connections with allies they already had. Most of the allies had held firm, but a few had waffled.
Today’s meeting -- one of the most delicate, with three of the most fragile of the allied nests -- would take place on the plains of a small moon only a few systems from Outpost Alcatraz. Juls had requested General Freux make the connection. He was highly respected and his terrifying demeanor seemed to elicit confidence in the skittish Idolum.
