by S. J. Higbee
“And that’s what I was attempting to inform you, Your Ladyship! There’s a major problem and it’s all the fault of the—”
As Vrox lifted his lip in silent threat, Kestor visibly paled, before taking a deep breath. “No! I won’t be intimidated into silence by that beast, I really won’t. It’s too important. You need to see the damage he’s inflicted on the Nodery!”
The watching crowd, which had immediately reformed after the spiderbot stopped trying to clear them away, muttered and gasped, clearly transfixed by Kestor’s performance. A few yelled encouragingly to him, clearly seeing him as the courageous victim in what had just occurred.
Now look what you’ve done! In less than a handful of heartbeats, you’ve managed to turn the crowd against you. Which is what happens when you threaten to eat one of them – even when he’s a sunblasted nuisance.
When Vrox sniggered, I realised he wasn’t the only one who’d stopped telling silly jokes. But then, I didn’t feel much like laughing in Gloriosa, did I? For starters, the roaching cold tended to freeze my sense of humour into a solid lump of misery, turning me into a freeze-brained housebot who’d trudged through each day in auto-mode.
But Vrox’s snarling snort of humour didn’t play well with the audience. Cnicans yelled in warning, convinced he was about to leap on me. And a couple of my guards, who should’ve known better, primed their weapons again, while the spiderbots skittered about Mother’s garden on Amber Alert.
“Helston! Get your team under control, before there’s a roaching accident,” I snapped, before turning to the crowd. “And it’s past time you headed to your cribs ʼfore your brains get boiled.”
Folks shifted and muttered, but no one moved.
“Nah. We’re goin’ nowhere, Yer Ladyship. Seeing as how it’s better’n a holocast, waitin’ fer your vore to swaller yer up, fancy robes an’ all,” called Hannon Hand, Mother’s brutal field hand, whose favourite hobby was torturing small helpless creatures.
“Speak for your sorry self, Hannon! Some’ve us are waiting to use the Node, as it happens,” Ajene replied. “Besides, now the village has a heatshield, we’re protected from the worst of the noonblast.”
A patter of affirmative shouts clearly agreed with her.
Huffing in disgust, Vrox decided to return to Felina’s house for a nap. One of the spiderbots patrolling the perimeter of the village scuttered to join him. As they processed through the crowd and along The Square, the bot’s gait altered so it matched the mantivore’s lope.
Has anyone else noticed that detail and realised what it means? That Vrox can completely control the patrolling bots any old time he decides.
“Your Ladyship, I do need to consult with you on a pressing matter,” announced Kestor Brarian dramatically, before bowing. Again.
The crowd perked up, having decided the roaching nuisance was the hero in this sorry mess, applauding and calling out to him. Some handed around snacks and waterpacks, having come well prepared, as Kestor posed in the doorway of the Node, lapping up the attention like a thirsty camel. While I yearned to knock his preening face into the middle of next year, though whether that was my longing or Vrox’s, I couldn’t say, given that neither of us liked him.
“So what’s the problem, Master Brarian?” I gazed over his shoulder at the organi-packs. At least some of the tanks were starting to bubble, though they were still far too cloudy and the ailing ones were the colour of river silt and dangerously inactive. “Apart from the whole Node still suffering from being lethally neglected, that is?”
“Just look!” exclaimed Kestor, waving his hand dramatically at the two most afflicted tanks.
Not trusting myself to speak, I walked into the Nodery and measured out another small dose of mushmouth, pouring it into the sickest tank, then putting my hands on the scratched plastuff. I’m so very sorry, my poor sore pretties. We’ll soon have you bright and bubbling again. Cos I love you so, so much – yes, I do… Yep, it’s the sort of thing mamas croon to red-faced, screaming babies. Leastways the Node tanks were properly beautiful, unlike most squalling brats I’ve encountered.
“No! Not the organi-packs – look at the state of the tanks. That beast has scratched and clawed at them!” Kestor didn’t actually stamp his foot, but it was close.
“Oi! Remember who you’re talking to,” growled Helston.
“Your Ladyship,” added the young Brarian petulantly, sidling back to the door and outside again.
I followed him – a major mistake. “Let me get this straight. The organi-pack that has served this community without failure or cessation since the Founding is battling for its life. And you’re yammering at me cos there’s a few scratches on the tank! That’s a really tilted set of priorities you’ve got there.” You really aren’t fit to be a Brarian!
Kestor pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I don’t think you fully understand the situation, Your Ladyship. This village is fast turning into a major tourist destination. Firstly, because Mother Mai lived and died here and her songs and poems have touched many people.” His tone of voice indicated he wasn’t one of them.
Can’t blame him for that…
“Secondly, because it’s where you were born and raised. Folks want to know what made our new Overlord. So it matters that the Node is a testament to your reputation. It matters that the Node is the best it can be.” He waved his arms, as he announced, “What we can’t have is a Node where the tanks are disfigured with scratch marks! What kind of message does that send about the way we look after the Nodery where our Overlord trained?” He tossed his head, his gaze flicking across to the crowd before he fixed me with a stare that wasn’t anything about me and all about his performance to the Cnicans.
“We’ll take the rest of this conversation inside the Nodery. Helston…”
My guard captain knew exactly what was required. Grasping Kestor’s arm, he hustled him through the door and slamming it shut once we were inside. The crowd’s disappointed howl at being denied their ringside seat to this roaching performance could be clearly heard, even though the Node was reasonably well insulated.
“I realise it must be somewhat embarrassing for you, the Overlord, to have missed this small but significant detail, Your Ladyship. Don’t you worry, I’ve got your back. I can explain to anyone who raises it that you were so derailed by your worry over Felina’s imprisonment and your mother’s appalling murder, it just slid past—”
“I don’t need you explaining anything to anyone! Indeed, I’m worried about Felina. And as for Mother being strangled in her sleep…” Not going to buckle in front of this overweening nemmetnub! I took a breath. “That’s something I’ll have to learn to live with. But right now, I’m also more upset than I can say that one, maybe two, tanks are still in danger of dying. And as for a few scratches – nope. Couldn’t care less. In Gloriosa, Vrox’s scratches on the Prime Node are regarded as a badge of honour by the Brarians who look after them.” As the words fell out of my mouth, an idea occurred to me.
Kestor sighed noisily. “It was always going to hamper you… your background where you were deprived of the expertise of other Brarians within your local nexus. May I offer my assistance in getting you up to speed regarding the finer points of Node welfare, Your Ladyship?”
I glared at him, hands on hips. “Says the Brarian who stormed off and deserted his Node over a wet-brained argument with Mother Mai’s followers, causing the Node to nearly die! If that’s your expertise, I’ll pass.”
“You’re blaming me for the situation? I realise my enemies have turned you against me, but I can assure you of my unflinching loyalty—”
“Your loyalty, flinching or otherwise, doesn’t matter more than an olive stone if you can’t keep the Node safe and healthy. Which you can’t. So you’re relieved of your duties, Master Brarian.”
As he slumped against the tanks behind him, I noticed that other than a slight flare of surprise, none of the organi-packs moved towards him.
They’ve no
t bonded with him. At all.
“Is it my relationship with Onice – is that what’s poisoned you against me? I’ll leave her. You were so far away and I’d thought you dead… You’ll never know just how much that hurt…” His voice broke and he blinked rapidly. “When I realised that Mai’s grief for you was just a roaching show for her followers and the journos, I moved back to Ajene’s. As for Onice…”
“My decision to take away the Node from you has nothing to do with who you share your bed with. I don’t care. Truly. Though I’m not impressed you’re willing to drop Onice like a used snotwipe. The reason I don’t want you near the Node is cos you’re not fit to look after it.”
He sighed. A.Gain. “I understand, Your Ladyship – I do. And I’ll be at pains to emphasise during my statement to the journos that this is merely a misunderstanding—”
“What statement to the journos, Kestor?” I struggled to sound mildly interested, rather than frothing fit to fell a charging vore.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, I have cultivated an excellent relationship with a number of the journos currently in the village, so it figures they’ll be clamouring for an interview once word gets out that you’ve hoed my career flat—”
I turned to Helston. “Let’s organise an escort for Master Brarian to the Security Suite. He’s under arrest for wilful neglect leading to endangerment of the Node.”
“Endangerment of the Node?” squeaked Kestor, turning the colour of porridge. “That’s… the sentence is automatic Collaring!”
“Yeah. I tried to let you down lightly so you could just walk quietly away. But you’re so full of your own importance, you didn’t even realise the trouble you’re in.”
As Helston called up the escort, Kestor flung himself on the floor at my feet, for once not acting. “Your Ladyship – Kyrillia! I’m begging you, please! Let go of your anger and jealousy and have some mercy. Didn’t I warn you that Father was about to betray you? At some personal risk, I might add.”
“What d’you think I was just doing? I was hoping you’d take the hint and go quietly, but you were about to turn your own mess into some roaching holodrama that was going to be splattered across all the journo networks. I can’t have that. Not here. Not now.”
“Nooo… I can’t be Collared—”
I glanced at Helston. “Trank him. Then call Beneth Healer and tell her to bring her hover gurney.”
Kestor thudded onto the stone floor like a sack of floor, suddenly graceless and sprawling. As Helston knelt beside him, I swallowed, turned back to the door on shaking legs, took a breath and walked through.
The crowd gathered outside the fence had more than doubled in size, as word had evidently gone around Cnicus that their Brarian was in trouble, judging by the sea of worried faces staring back at me.
I pressed my lips together, knowing that however I put it, they wouldn’t see it my way. So once the guards cleared a path through the crowd, I marched through without saying anything, despite a sprinkling of lame-brained questions, hating these people and their roaching nosiness almost as much as I hated myself.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
In an ideal world, I would have had a tasty lunch, relaxed with a steam bath, endured one of Ellern’s massages and then retired to bed for a well-earned siesta. After all I’d been awake and up before sunrise. But nothing about this blasted day was ideal, so that’s not what happened. The lunch and steam bath went well enough – something I’d very much missed in Gloriosa, where they insisted on half-drowning a body in huge baths or pelting them with monsoon-strength showers.
However, lying on Felina’s squashy bed after the massage and closing my eyes invited Kestor’s kicked-puppy stare to shutter through my head, alternating with Vrox’s disturbingly sudden mood change. And when I tried to turn over and think of something else, the only other thing that popped into my mind was Felina’s upcoming MindTrawl. I sighed and sat up. I’d lost the habit for napping during the day anyhow, thanks to the Gloriosan trick of rising a lot later in the day and working through until the evening. And there was someone I needed to urgently contact, though with the Node so poorly I needed to relay my call through Reseda…
“Denzel? Denzel Brarian.”
He bounced onto the holomat in the Meeting House, looking as if he was about to be set on by a pod of ravening nemmets. “Your Ladyship?” he quavered.
“I’ve a favour to ask of you.”
“At your service, Your Ladyship.” His grin lit up his face.
“The Node here in Cnicus is very poorly and needs specialist care. It was shut up and left unattended for nigh on a week.”
“Oh no! Are any tanks still alive?”
I was right about choosing him. If only I can peel him away from Gloriosa. “As I’m sure you realise, I can’t have the former Brarian anywhere near the Node and as the village is right on the edge of The Arids, it’s not as though suitable Brarians are lining up to take on the job.”
Denzel frowned, biting his lip. “No, that could be a problem. Are any tanks responsive?”
“They all are, but two are very sick. And all the Brarian here wanted to do was replace those two with entirely new stock from the local nexus.”
“No! That would set the Node back… it’ll compromise performance for months, if not years! No wonder the Node coverage around The Arids is so unsatisfactory, if they are pulling stunts like that!” He hastily wiped the scowl from his face. “My repentances, Your Ladyship, but I can’t abide it when I hear of Nodes mistreated. Are they responding to the remedial mix?”
I explained the sorry situation wherein there was no remedial mix in Cnicus and we were having to wait for a delivery, adding that we were also dosing the tanks with the lethally strong local brew and held my breath, waiting for his horrified response.
Instead, he smirked. “Here, we give them the occasional tipple of whisky. Only if they look a bit washed out, or on Gathering Day, you understand, Your Ladyship.”
“I need someone I can trust to look after the Node and nurse it back to health. Would you be up for taking on the job? I know the conditions are rough – but it’s not as bad as—”
“A chance to work with the same Node that Lord Osmar used during his exile? The very Node our Overlord – a real Nodemaster – trained on?” he murmured, eyes shining and rapt. “Oh, Your Ladyship, I’d be honoured!”
Perhaps the day was set to improve. Maybe this was even a sign that Felina’s MindTrawl would go shadily. Whatever the reason, I was ridiculously happy that Master Denzel Brarian had agreed to travel to Cnicus. I’d expected that he would want at least a couple of days to pack, but he assured me that he would be on the first available flight out.
I contacted Arlester, whose smooth efficiency was one thing I did miss about life in Gloriosa and was just about to sign off, when his holo looked over his shoulder, before adding, “Lord Seth is here to see you, Your Ladyship.”
“Oh. Yes, of course.” I’d been busy trying not to think of him and what with the trouble at the Node and with Felina’s upcoming MindTrawl, I’d succeeded.
Arlester bowed and signed off in a typically protracted Gloriosan manner, leaving me staring at Seth, who bounced onto the holomat looking relaxed and very much the Uppie nobleman.
He frowned. “Kyrillia, what’s hoed you flat?”
The words fell out of my mouth, “When were you going to tell me about you and Demri and what really happened?”
He rocked as if he’d been shot, his eyes widening and his face turning pale.
No chance it’s some wet-witted muddle then… “I get it. I do. It isn’t what happened that has me wanting to shake you till your ribs rattle – it’s you allowing me to return without warning me.”
“My greatest shame.” His voice was low and pained. “It was a terrible thing to do to my best, most loyal friend. Next to you, of course.”
“Yeah… And before you start slicing yourself into dice-sized pieces, let’s back up a tad and recall what happened. You’
d lost your ma, then you and your da lost your home and most’ve your possessions when your Family was DeNamed. Rehoused in one of the Eswin Washer’s hovels amongst the Slurry and Summer Families and having to face the village while your poor, bookish da slave-slogged at all the scuzzy jobs by day and lost himself in mushmouth by night…” Till he was found in a ditch, facedown and deader than last night’s supper. And after that you were the one that did all the vile, disgusting jobs in Cnicus that no one else wanted to touch, begging for scraps no one else wanted to eat. Relying on Ajene, Felina, Beneth, me and a handful of others to sneak food to you when we could. You’d just turned sixteen when poor Saul died, which was why the Elders were able to go on treating you so badly. If you’d been a handful of months younger, they would have been obliged to send you to an orphanage in Reseda and pay your living costs…
Seth’s gaze was haunted as he whispered, “I’ve started telling you a hundred times and more, about what I did. And every single time, I’ve stopped because I knew you’d be disgusted with me.”
I folded my arms, hurt and angry in equal measure. “Really? You never thought I’d have the wit to understand what you were going through? Just reckoned I’d cast you off without a backward glance?”
“You, who’re so extraordinarily brave, how can you stomach such a roaching coward?” His mouth twisted in self-disgust. “As for me, I couldn’t even hurt myself. Had to speedtalk a poor soul with more brawn than brains to do the job for me. Not once – but over and over.” He covered his face with shaking hands.
“Seth – I understand, I do. It wasn’t what happened – it’s that you didn’t tell me…”
But I couldn’t seem to reach him. This proud, remote man who had always been so self-contained was now breaking apart and I didn’t know how to fix him.
Vrox smirks. Cub should at last realise this is not a fit mate for her—
“No!” I jumped up, shaking with fury. “You roaching well take your scaly old nose out of my business, you mean-minded dragon!” And shutting my eyes, I imagined standing under a shower of icy water, being pelted with it.
