Replication

by Kevin Hardman

“Discharged?” I repeated quizzically. “I’m sorry, Sxahnin, I don’t know what you mean.”

  “It means you’re both released from your duties in the receiving line. From what I could overhear of your conversation, it’s pretty obvious the two of you are bored.”

  I felt my cheeks turn slightly red as I realized I had overlooked the fact that at least one other person here was fluent in Caelesian: my grandmother.

  “Our apologies, N’d’go,” said Myshtal solemnly, emphasizing the Caelesian pronunciation of my grandmother’s name. “We meant no harm.”

  My grandmother reached out and gently patted Myshtal’s hand. “It’s fine, my dear.” Then a crafty smile crept onto her face and she added, “To be honest, I wish there were someone to discharge me from the receiving line.”

  We all got a laugh out of that.

  “Anyway,” Indigo continued a moment later, “if anyone should ask” – she looked pointedly at me – “especially your grandfather, I gave you both a stern lecture about–”

  My grandmother abruptly stopped speaking, as if she’d suddenly lost her voice. At the same time, I noticed a faraway look come into her eyes as she tilted her head slightly to the side, as if listening for music only she could hear.

  Concerned, I focused my empathic senses on her and picked up the sensation of curiosity mixed with bewilderment. A second later, it was all overridden by a cavalcade of surprise, joy, and exuberance.

  Practically beaming now, Indigo belted out, “Come on!” Reaching for us, she gripped my wrist in one hand and Myshtal’s in the other, and then took off – practically dragging us behind her.

  “Wait…” I muttered, trying to get her attention. “Sxahnin…”

  I was hoping to get an explanation of some sort for her behavior. Unfortunately, my words fell on deaf ears as my grandmother hastily pulled us towards the ballroom entrance, heedless of the people we inadvertently bumped into. She was clearly on a mission. Hoping to get an indication of what was so important, I looked in the direction we were headed.

  At first, I didn’t see anything of note. The column of guests waiting to get through the receiving line stretched out the door, but there were lots of other people milling about as well: servers walking through with trays of refreshments, friends laughing merrily at each other’s jokes, visitors gawking in awe at the scale of the mansion, and so on. And then I saw him.

  He appeared to be young – late twenties or early thirties – and was remarkably handsome. He was a few inches taller than my six-foot height (making me peg him at about six-three), and had dark hair that was combed back. Like just about all the other men present, he had on a tuxedo, but his seemed to fit and wear in a way that went beyond simply being tailor-made or handcrafted. It was like it was a part of him.

  More than his physical appearance, however, was his presence. He had a panache you could sense even without empathic abilities, but at the same time exuded a sangfroid that was almost tangible. It was as though he brought his own atmosphere into the room with him, something that allowed him to radiate confidence without being overbearing, to appear poised while simultaneously relaxed. In short, he exuded an effortless cool that many attempt, but few actually achieve.

  Around this time, my grandmother noticed him as well. Almost squealing in delight, she suddenly released Myshtal and me from her grip and then raced towards the stranger. Eager to see what the fuss was about, I followed quickly on her heels, with Myshtal doing much the same.

  Seeing Indigo approach, the corners of the man’s mouth drew up into a dazzling smile. My grandmother virtually leaped into his arms, giving him a fierce hug that was probably only rivaled by the one she gave my grandfather after we returned to Earth.

  After a few moments, Indigo and the young stranger separated, but still gripped each other by the forearms. They both then leaned forward, each grinning broadly, and placed their heads next to each other so that my grandmother’s right ear touched the newcomer’s left. It was then that I noticed something that had escaped my attention until now: the guy’s ears were pointed.

  He’s Caelesian! I thought. A moment later, my brain started becoming frothy with questions. Who was this guy? Why was he here? Did Queen Dornoccia send him? Had the queen changed her mind about allowing my grandmother to return to Earth?

  Those and a thousand other questions were racing through my mind when Indigo and the stranger drew their heads back, although still gripping each other’s forearms.

  “You got my message!” my grandmother exclaimed excitedly.

  “Of course,” the fellow replied in a sanguine tone that matched his demeanor. “Why do you think I’m here?”

  “I’m sorry,” Indigo muttered, shaking her head. “I simply didn’t expect you to come yourself.”

  The newcomer raised an eyebrow. “You expected me to entrust this to an underling?”

  Before Indigo could respond, I coughed softly in an attention-getting manner. My grandmother turned to me, looking as if she’d forgotten where she was for a moment.

  “Forgive me – I’ve been rude,” she declared, releasing her grip on the stranger’s arms. Waving a hand in my direction, she then said, “Please allow me to introduce my thrice-child, Prince J’h’dgo.” She then swung her hand towards the newcomer, saying, “J’h’dgo, this is my cousin, Prince Nobaxlin.”

  “Cousin?” I mumbled, trying to hide my surprise.

  “On the maternal side,” Indigo explained. “He’s the son of my mother’s brother. We practically grew up together.”

  I frowned, trying to process this. Indigo’s mother had been Fleodin – a people who were of the same race as Caelesians but who maintained a separate (but equally powerful) interstellar empire. My grandmother had occasionally mentioned her maternal relatives, but personally I’d never given them much thought.

  “So,” Nobaxlin droned, breaking in on my thoughts and flashing another smile as he looked me over. “This is the Prince Dranilac.”

  “Excuse me?” I said, plainly a bit confused by the conversation. “Prince Landrax?”

  “The Prince Dranilac,” my grandmother corrected before speaking to me telepathically.

  Mentally, I shook my head, not quite able to make sense of what I was hearing.

  I admitted after a moment.

 

  That came as something of a surprise. I mean, I’d known about my great-grandmother’s family being the Fleodin governing authority, but I had never thought about it in the context of positions or titles. Before I could respond to my grandmother’s comment, however, Nobaxlin spoke – interrupting the telepathic conversation between me and Indigo.

  “I’ve been given to understand that you visited Caeles recently,” he said. “What did you think?”

  His question caught me flatfooted, and I didn’t have an immediate answer ready. The truth of the matter was that my sojourn to Caeles had resulted in me being stripped of my powers, accused of treason, and almost dying. However, I thought it prudent to give a more tactful – but equally candid – response, so I concentrated for a moment and then stated, “I enjoyed my time there for the most part. The food was delicious, the people were congenial, and the architecture was inspiring.”

  Nobaxlin harrumphed. “Well, if you were impressed with those mudhuts they call castles and that swill they brazenly label as food, then you’re going to be awed by what you encounter in the Demesne. Wait until you see it. You’ll love–”

  He stopped abruptly, and I noticed Indigo giving him a piercing stare along with a subtle shake of her head. No
words passed between them, but I suddenly had a strong indication of the arrangements my grandmother had made for leaving Earth.

  Nobaxlin cleared his throat. “Please forgive me. I tend to go overboard when discussing the highlights of Fleodin society and can be a bit boorish in that regard.”

  Indigo laughed. “You’re always boorish, but I’m glad you stopped short of completing denigrating my homeworld’s culture, since we have another Caelesian royal present.” She inclined her head towards Myshtal, saying, “This is Princess Isteria, the quint-child of Queen Dornoccia.”

  My brow creased slightly, as hearing Myshtal addressed by her first name sounded odd to me. That said, it struck me as appropriate under the circumstances, as this was a formal introduction.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Nobaxlin stated, gesticulating with his hands in a manner that I recognized as a Caelesian greeting.

  Returning the gesture, Myshtal said, “Actually, we’ve already met.”

  A look of surprise crossed the Fleodin’s face. “We have?”

  “Yes,” Myshtal insisted. “Years ago, when I was much younger, you came to Caeles as part of a trade delegation when I was visiting the queen.”

  A fervent but faraway look came into Nobaxlin’s eyes – as if he were staring at something on the horizon that was close enough to be seen, but too distant to be made out clearly. You could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as his brow wrinkled in concentration. After a moment, however, the look of intensity vanished and he gave Myshtal a bright smile.

  “Blue dress with a white sash,” he said. “Along with a black-and-silver tiara.”

  “Good memory,” Myshtal admitted, obviously impressed. “That’s exactly what I wore when we previously met.”

  Nobaxlin laughed. “My recollection was likely helped by the fact that you’re one of the few children I ever met on Caeles – certainly the only one I ever encountered in the presence of the queen. The next time you see her, please give her my regards.”

  “I certainly will,” Myshtal assured him. “Especially in relation to our swill and mudhuts.”

  Nobaxlin blinked, clearly taken aback – and then exploded into riotous laughter. A moment later, the rest of us joined him. I had been worried for a moment, but it was pretty clear that the Fleodin prince could take a joke.

  “I like this one,” Nobaxlin announced once he could catch his breath, smiling at me while pointing at Myshtal. “She’s a – what’s the Terran phrase? – a keeper.”

  I sobered almost immediately, Nobaxlin’s innocuous comment making me keenly aware of the fact that Myshtal was my titular fiancée. Given what my grandfather had said earlier, I didn’t need anyone entertaining the notion that we actually made a cute couple. (Moreover, I knew that Electra would go completely bananas if she ever found out I let a remark like that slide by without comment.) Thus, I spent a few anxious seconds trying to think of an appropriate response that would set the record straight in an unobtrusive manner. I came up empty, but fortunately, my grandmother came to my rescue.

  Shaking her head, Indigo teased, “Nobaxlin, you’ve always had a gift for languages, but in this instance your use of local idioms leaves something to be desired.”

  “Oh?” Nobaxlin muttered, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “I was certain I had it right.”

  Indigo laughed. “You can regale my grandson with your mastery of Earth colloquialisms later. For now, I want you to come say hello to my husband and daughter.”

  With that, she looped her arm into Nobaxlin’s and began leading him away. He spared a short wave for Myshtal and me before being dragged into the sea of bodies present.

  “So,” Myshtal said after my grandmother and her cousin vanished into the crowd, “you’re a Fleodin royal?”

  “So it appears,” I answered dispassionately.

  “You don’t seem particularly pleased about it.”

  “To be honest, I’m still digesting the news. I mean, I’ve had enough on my plate just learning the ropes in terms of being a Caelesian prince. I don’t even want to think about having a separate and distinct regal role right now.”

  “Well, why don’t we do something to take your mind off it?”

  “Such as?”

  She made a Caelesian gesture that was the equivalent of shrugging one’s shoulders. “I don’t know. How about a tour?”

  “With pleasure,” I said with a smile.

  Chapter 19

  Over the next twenty minutes, I took Myshtal on a quick jaunt through my father’s mansion. I didn’t want to be away from the main party for too long, so I focused on showing her what I considered to be the most notable features, such as the bowling alley and indoor basketball court. (The place was monstrously huge, to be sure, and it would have taken hours to see every part of it.)

  That said, I had no doubt that the grandeur of my father’s home made little impression on Myshtal. After all, her great-great-grandmother, Queen Dornoccia, lived in a palace that was the size of a city. My father’s place probably looked like a lean-to by comparison. In truth, she seemed more fascinated by the novelty of what she was shown than the scale of the mansion, as Earth forms of leisure and recreation varied greatly from what she was used to.

  Mentally, I had put a thirty-minute limit on this particular excursion. The last thing I needed at this juncture was for a rumor to start circulating that Myshtal and I had disappeared together for an extended period of time. Fortunately, my father had made much of the mansion accessible, so we bumped into other guests almost everywhere we went. (In other words, there were witnesses if – for some reason – I needed proof of my whereabouts later.) In fact, it was one of the other attendees who pretty much brought our tour to an end.

  We were headed towards the indoor pool (which also contained a two-story waterfall) when Myshtal stopped dead in her tracks, drawing in a sharp breath that was practically a gasp.

  Turning to her, I noticed that she had a look of complete surprise on her face. Emotionally, I could sense that she had received quite a jolt. Following her eyes, I looked in the direction of her gaze, trying to get a glimpse of what had startled her.

  There was a man approaching us. Like most of the other male guests, he was wearing a tux – in this instance, a single-breasted jacket with a peaked lapel. However, that’s where adherence to Black Tie standards ended. Instead of the traditional black-and-white color scheme, this fellow’s attire incorporated brilliant hues of shocking pink and psychedelic purple. The chromatism didn’t just encompass his jacket, pants, and shirt, but also his gloves, socks, and shoes. Needless to say, his ensemble garnered considerable attention.

  But even more intriguing than his wardrobe was the man himself, as his entire face seemed to be covered with strange designs: ancient symbols, weird hieroglyphs, and obscure characters – all of which seemed to move eerily across the surface of his skin.

  I smiled as he sauntered towards us. This was Rune, one of the members of the Alpha League. He was generally considered to be a magician of some sort, but I knew that he was something much more. He was an Incarnate – the physical embodiment of certain powers that were beyond the ability of most people to comprehend.

  “Gzint msint!” Myshtal hissed, cursing mildly in her native language. “It’s the Visiwigon!”

  I frowned. Her voice had brought me back to myself, but she still seemed somewhat spellbound and had used a Caelesian term I was unfamiliar with. However, before I could delve into what was bothering her, Rune stopped directly in front of us.

  “Language, Princess,” he chuckled. “That kind of verbiage isn’t appropriate for a member of the royal family.”

  I raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You speak Caelesian, Rune?”

  “Somewhat,” he replied, waffling a hand from side to side in a so-so gesture. “I’ve had the privilege of meeting a few visitors from there, and apparently I resemble an infamous character from Caelesian mythology.”

  “The Visiwigon,” Myshtal repeated, although she
seemed to have recovered to an extent from her earlier surprise. “A legendary thaumaturge and notorious trickster, easily recognizable by the cryptic symbols etched all over his body.”

  Now I understood Myshtal’s reaction a little better. Seeing Rune was probably the equivalent of me going to Scotland and catching a glimpse of the Loch Ness Monster. From her perspective, he was a fabled character seemingly come to life.

  “Well,” Rune droned, “I hope you’ll reserve judgment until you actually get to know me – assuming we’re ever introduced.”

  He gave me an expectant look, but it still took me a moment to catch on.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I muttered a second later, then hastily made formal introductions. However, it was obvious that Rune already knew who Myshtal was, as he had called her “Princess” just a few moments earlier. (Frankly speaking, it probably hadn’t been difficult to put two-and-two together: to anyone familiar with her race, she was obviously Caelesian, and word of our “arrangement” had spread like wildfire through the League.)

  After exchanging pleasantries with Myshtal, Rune leaned forward unexpectedly and whispered something in her ear. I couldn’t make out what he said (although I could tell that it was in Caelesian), but whatever it was caused Myshtal to start giggling almost hysterically. And just like that, the ice melted and – on an empathic level – I sensed her going back to normal, emotionally.

  “Anyway,” Rune said, “I won’t keep you any longer, but I didn’t actually bump into the two of you by accident. I was actually looking for Jim.”

  “Oh?” I mumbled, openly curious.

  “I have an issue that I might need your help with,” he explained.

  He said it nonchalantly, like he needed a hand taking out the trash or something, but Rune’s statement caught me a little flatfooted. His own abilities were extraordinary: among other things, he could travel to a dimension outside of space and time, project himself astrally, warp reality… Simply put, there weren’t a lot of scenarios where I could envision him needing help – even from someone with a power set as singular as mine. If he was asking, it was clearly important.