Bright Star

by E G Manetti

  “Discover other marshes, then. Why do you require my assistance?” Trevelyan says dismissively as he represses a smile at Lilian’s earnestness. He does not doubt her analysis. Unknown to Lilian, Trevelyan is one of the few who knows the secret of her prodigy.

  Suddenly aware of her posture, Lilian straightens in her seat. It is exceptional courtesy for Master Trevelyan to seat her; she must maintain proper deference. “Once the small market trial completes, the value of these properties will be known and the prices will rise. The increased cost will erode the profits from the synthetics by as much as a third.”

  “Even reduced profits will enrich the Cartel and all three cartouches.” Trevelyan challenges out of curiosity, not true resistance. He is as fascinated as Lucius by Lilian’s ability to make extreme analytical leaps.

  “As you voice, Master Trevelyan,” Lilian acknowledges and then adds, “but it will do little to eliminate the dependency on candlelight and other primitive mechanisms in the secondary systems.”

  Trevelyan represses a grin. While he applauds the sensibility that would aid the less fortunate, it is not a commerce justification. Not for the first time, Trevelyan suspects that Lucius has gathered something remarkable into his shadow. “Why concern yourself if the endeavor will benefit Monsignor Lucius in either circumstance?”

  I am the sum of my ancestors. Lilian calls on her discipline as she attempts to express a pattern that is more symbolic than logical. “Monsignor’s immediate benefit is always the first and last consideration. Long-term benefit must also be considered. The deeper Serengeti penetrates the outer regions, the faster they will develop. Developed, they will provide both markets and talent into the next century.

  “Monsignor has two sons and a daughter. It will be better if they inherit a growing, healthy society rather than one that slumbers into atrophy,” Lilian concludes.

  “And incidentally helping the current inhabitants of those regions and their descendants as well?” Trevelyan casts his lure casually, waiting to see what will rise to the hook.

  Avoiding the bait, Lilian answers carefully, “Incidentally or essentially, the result will be the same and to the benefit of Blooded Dagger and Serengeti.”

  Referencing her slate, Lilian explains, “There are twenty-three habitable planets in the Twelve Systems. Somewhere there is a sufficient supply of the right composition to meet the synthetics’ fabrication requirements. Master Trevelyan, you command the resources for such a search. Will you assist?”

  “Aye, Mistress Lilian, I will discover your saltmarshes. I may require the dedicated assistance of your archivist friend. Will that please you?” Trevelyan is not done with his lures.

  “It will please me greatly, Master Trevelyan. My thanks,” Lilian returns, unconcerned that Trevelyan is aware of her alliance with Rebecca or that it pleases her that the apprentice has attracted the spymaster’s favor. “I shall inform Monsignor of your search for the saltmarshes at tomorrow’s eighth-bell report. Is there aught else you wish me to include?”

  Lilian’s intent is clear. Does Trevelyan wish to be the first to inform Monsignor, she will not speak of it until the next day.

  “Not at this time, Mistress Lilian,” Trevelyan replies as he finally releases his free-trader smile.

  »◊«

  “Lilian, I believe that man admires me,” Rebecca announces.

  For a moment, Lilian is at a loss. Rebecca is truly beautiful with her smooth blonde hair, blue eyes, delicate features, and lightly sun-kissed skin. Fashionable heels give the curvaceous apprentice the illusion of Lilian’s inches. Even the severely proper Associate Master Straus has been caught in an admiring glance or two.

  Gathering her wits, Lilian challenges, “Rebecca, there is not a man within Serengeti Headquarters who favors women who does not admire you. Of whom do you speak?”

  Lilian and Rebecca have once again met by chance in a freshening closet. Their acquaintance began in one, and on more than one occasion, they have conspired in one. Lilian is beginning to wonder if the forces of the universe have an odd interest in their hygiene. Certainly there is naught in the canons to suggest the Five Warriors hold such prurient tendencies.

  Suppressing the irreverent thought, Lilian listens as Rebecca explains, “Not that type of ‘admire.’ He talks to me. He never touched me when I was preempted. He lets me sit in his presence—”

  “Master Trevelyan,” Lilian says, gently interrupting the flow. At Rebecca’s startled expression, Lilian continues, “Have you not noticed he treats all of us in the same manner? All who are associates? Apprentices are treated no worse than free associates and protégés no better. Such egalitarianism is common among followers of the Universal Way.”

  “He’s a re-lifer? Surely you jest?” Rebecca responds, wide-eyed at the ludicrous notion that after death one returns to life in a new form rather than walking with the Shades of the Five Warriors.

  “That is a very rude term for a well-grounded discipline. Master Trevelyan would be offended, as am I,” Lilian returns coolly.

  Shocked to her toes, Rebecca stumbles, “You’re not. You can’t be.”

  “An adherent of the Universal Way? No,” Lilian denies, amused by Rebecca’s conclusion.

  The Universalists eschew warrior values and hold to the vestiges of the ancient enlightenment that preceded the Anarchy. The small sect is viewed with suspicion by many citizens of the Twelve Systems. To avoid censure, Lilian rarely voices her more unconventional opinions. In this instance, she has a purpose as she explains, “Universalist tenets are not without merit. Without a place in their school, my sister, Katleen, would be subject to as much insult as I endure in the Cartel. Nor do I suggest that Master Trevelyan is a Universalist. They are completely opposed to violence except in self-defense, and even then only in extremity.”

  “Well, that certainly disqualifies Master Trevelyan. So he cannot be one, but he behaves in their manner. How can that be?” Reassured that her occasional patron is not questionable, Rebecca is curious.

  As a Cartel apprentice, Rebecca supports all three cartouches and the Serengeti in her commerce assignments. She is also available to provide carnal pleasure to the Cartel ‘ranked’ warriors, those with the title of seigneur or monsignor.

  On more than one occasion, Trevelyan has invoked Lucius’ authority to preempt Rebecca, giving him exclusive command of her talents as an archivist as well as her lovely form. Trevelyan exploits Rebecca’s commerce abilities without hesitation and with heavy demand. He makes no use of her body, although he favors women.

  “I would guess through education,” Lilian says, speculating on the source of the spymaster’s behavior. “The sect is prevalent throughout the university system. In some remote regions, they provide the only advanced studies. Katleen has already begun to question the institution of indenture, which the Universalists abhor as much as they do violence.”

  “So it is not me, it is only his way.” Rebecca sighs with disappointment.

  “I did not speak so,” Lilian denies. “There are eleven Cartel apprentices that Master Trevelyan could call on Monsignor’s authority to attach. It is only you that Master Trevelyan chooses to pull into his shadow.

  “You are correct. Master Trevelyan admires you but not in the manner to which you are accustomed. I thought you should understand that this one time, a man sees you as something other than a lovely plaything.”

  “What do I do?” Rebecca is at a loss. Nothing in her experience has prepared her for this revelation.

  “Return the courtesy you have been offered. Yield loyalty and respect,” Lilian returns.

  4. Shades’ Grace

  The Twelve Systems’ commercial, spiritual, and civil authorities evolved from alliances and treaties among the Five Warriors and their retainers. Their genetic descendants are the First Families, the warrior elite who control the cartels, the shrines, and the Governing Council.

  The majority of the Twelve Systems follow the warrior class in its devotion to the Sha
des of the Five Warriors, who are believed to provide mystical support and aid to those they find worthy. Each of the Five Warriors has his or her own sect, which promotes the philosophy, history, and martial arts of the warrior as recorded in the canons.

  Among the warrior elite, children are dedicated to the service of one of the Five Warriors in the year after their fourth birth anniversary. The dedication is consecrated twenty years later when the adult comes to the shrine for rededication. Among the common orders, a sect is chosen in the sixteenth year, and those devoted take their spiritual guidance from the warrior’s canons and discipline. ~ excerpt from A Social History of the Twelve Systems, an instructional text.

  Sevenday 26, Day 4

  Five Warriors’ take it! This is ill. Lilian absently tugs on one ruby stud as she hastens to the risers. There was no indication of this development when Lilian attended milord for eighth-bell status. Milord was exceptionally pleased, smiling as she reviewed her progress on the synthetics operational forecasts, the Bright Star share evaluations, and ongoing evaluations of Blooded Dagger’s commerce interests. The last activity was assigned after Lilian’s operational assessment of Desperation Mine and Refinery revealed fraud. Lilian’s education in commerce is proceeding at a pace well beyond her expectations.

  The onset of her female cycle was completely unanticipated. During her early months at the Cartel , events conspired to deprive Lilian of rest and food, wildly oversetting her metabolism. It is only recently that her cycles have returned, and they remain erratic.

  It was the effort of a moment to replace her miniscule gold posts with the red eargems, a gift from milord to signal that Lilian’s female cycle is upon her. Of course, the signal is only useful if milord is present to view the gems.

  Milord will not be pleased. Milord expects Lilian at midday. She dare not defy milord by a failure of attendance. At the very thought, recall flares of her second day of apprenticeship and the only occasion where she was a few breaths late for attendance. Lilian did not enjoy milord’s correction.

  Milord’s reaction to a more severe infraction— Lackwit! Send an alert. Lilian silences her inner turmoil with the obvious solution. Mentally, she begins the missive, Milord, I beg to . . .

  Adelaide’s thorn! Lilian’s mental composition dissolves as soon as it is formed. It is effrontery for Lilian to suggest or imply that she knows milord’s will for midday. That apprentice custom and Lilian’s five months of experience indicate milord’s carnal intent matters not.

  Effrontery or defiance? If Lilian fails to attend milord, she is defiant. Does she attend milord, he will be disgusted at her defiance of the taboo. Does she inform milord of her cycle, it is effrontery. Lilian desires correction for neither defiance nor effrontery.

  “Lilian.” Chrys’ excited voice pulls Lilian from her internal debate as she reaches the risers. “What do you? Is it Bright Star?”

  I attempt to discover a means. Do not voice that. It was Chrys who informed Lilian that the thirty-six strictures of the Apprentice Protocol equate to one simple tenet: Discover a means. Do not ask, do not complain, discover a means.

  “Lilian?” Chrys insists, catching her gaze with his.

  Chrys. What was the question?

  “Bright Star, Chrys, yes,” Lilian replies, glad of the distraction. “Master Nickolas and I are due to review financials with Seigneur Garwynn.”

  “The Serengeti financials seigneur is well regarded,” Chrys comments, referring to Seigneur Garwynn of Grey Spear. “Will Seigneur Garwynn decide the arrangements for cartouche shares in Bright Star?”

  Shaking her head, Lilian is careful in her response. Chrys is not within the security-privilege of Bright Star, so there is little she can reveal. “All three Serengeti cartouches agreed to the protocol for shares allotment last sevenday. This is naught but financial and accounting protocols.”

  “And the shares,” Chrys presses. His low tones do not mask his eagerness. Grey Spear’s persistent attempt to wrest control of the Cartel from Blooded Dagger is a constant topic of gossip and speculation.

  “Peace, Chrys, I can voice naught of the shares,” Lilian returns as softly. Chrys’ visible disappointment fires inspiration. Lilian remains annoyed by the prior day’s media report that minimized milord. Now as she considers the crowded riser bay, Lilian’s tone hardens and strengthens. “As Blooded Dagger dominated the scoring during the dry season, the Blooded Dagger Cartouche will dominate Bright Star.”

  At Lilian’s words, the gathered associates break into excited discussion. This year the Blooded Dagger first-year associates outperformed the other two cartouches’ first-year associates at a record level. Only a few, milord and Trevelyan among them, know that Lilian, Chrys, and Rebecca were central to those achievements.

  “Lilian, you are bold,” Chrys murmurs as they step into the riser carriage. “Master Martin will hear of this.”

  I am the sum of my ancestors. Lilian did not consider Martin’s reaction when her words reached him, a reminder of his scoring humiliation. He will devise something nasty to torment me. It matters naught. Could Lilian recall her words, she would not. Crevasse swallow Martin. “Unless I am invisible or dead, Master Martin will torment me. I will not seek it, but I will not let the possibility hinder me in my duty to Monsignor.”

  “Lilian,” Chrys begins, only to be distracted by the ruby winking in one of Lilian’s ears. Five Warriors’ take it. Lilian is free for midday and Chrys has other commitments. “Lilian, I am engaged at midday, mayhap . . .”

  Lilian’s rare middays at liberty from milord are embraced by her skill consortium. Instigated by Lilian, her friends Chrys, Rebecca, and Clarice have joined Lilian in an alliance to share skills and to protect each other from the torment that is an apprentice’s lot. This day Lilian’s availability is too sudden.

  “Peace, Chrys.” Lilian releases her earlobe, embarrassed by her tell. Although she will regret the lack of his companionship, she must not hinder Chrys. “It is well you build other alliances.”

  As the riser carriage reaches Grey Spear, Lilian adds, “On the morrow, we can convene.”

  »◊«

  Adelaide defend me. Lilian’s day, which began with promise, has disintegrated to the point of despair.

  “Master Nickolas?” Lilian hesitates at the threshold of the entrance to Sebastian Mehta’s suite. Here on the twenty-third storey, Grey Spear’s cobalt and bronze replace Blooded Dagger’s scarlet and gold.

  “Do you question Monsignor Sebastian’s will?” Nickolas responds sharply, impatient with Lilian’s hesitation.

  Defy a governing monsignor? Lilian is not addled. “No, Master Nickolas, it is only, the strictures. . .”

  Lilian trails off under Nickolas’ frown as he snaps, “Do not dare to lecture me on the strictures. Come, we must hasten.”

  I am the sum of my ancestors. What does Monsignor Sebastian? Lilian cannot fathom why the powerful warrior attends such a mundane review. It is the monsignor’s participation that moved the review into his personal conference chamber. Lilian dared not refuse to enter and fail in her duty to Bright Star. Entering has placed Lilian on the wrong side of a custom that holds the force of stricture.

  It is not the first occasion the complex and often-conflicting strictures that govern her apprentice bond have positioned Lilian at the edge of a Crevasse. The rigid custom that surrounds the stricture restricting Lilian to intimate contact with milord and only milord includes prohibitions against Lilian being closeted with other men.

  I am the foundation of my family. Defying the will of one of higher rank violates other strictures, but defying a governor’s will is unthinkable.

  I will not fail. I will not fall. Milord is harsh, but not unreasonable. Lilian clings to slender comfort as the door seals behind her. Lilian is completely hidden from view; the only vestiges of a chaperone are the monitors that are sealed to Sebastian Mehta’s privilege.

  Honor is my blade and shield. Milord’s will overrides all other strictures. L
ilian dearly hopes she is correct and that more than aught else, milord wishes no complaint from Grey Spear.

  Honor knows not fear. At Monsignor Sebastian’s invitation, Nickolas seats himself across from the Grey Spear preeminence and Seigneur Garwynn. Lilian is offered naught but a contemptuous glance.

  “We will begin with the cost-accounting protocol,” Garwynn Mehta opens the meeting. The cartel’s financials seigneur is the same height as his powerful kinsman, but that is where the resemblance ends. He is lean with a reddish-brown cast to his skin, dark brown eyes, and auburn hair. Garwynn’s physical characteristics, coupled with an expression of reserved intelligence, put Lilian in mind of a clever fox.

  Honor endures. Seigneur Garwynn is highly competent and well organized. The meeting is mercifully brief. It is with immense relief that Lilian follows Nickolas from the chamber and into the risers.

  Honor acts as duty commands. Either the red eargems or the closeted conference with Grey Spear will find Lilian on the wrong side of milord’s will by commerce close. Pressing against the far wall of the riser carriage, Lilian reflexively sweeps the carriage with her eyes. In her early days at the Cartel, Lilian learned to hug the carriage walls and employ her peripheral vision to avoid surreptitious tripping, pinching, and shoving. Her eyes briefly pass over Nickolas’ broad back. There is no point in inquiring. The protégé will not aid her.

  Discover a means. Rapidly sifting the data, Lilian cannot find a pattern. Insight fails her, as it so often does. The unique slate ping that indicates Blooded Dagger pulls Lilian’s attention. It is Seigneur Marco and Bright Star. Nickolas has his slate in hand. They are both required.