Multiverse 2

by Chris Hechtl

  They met as much as possible, sneaking about to make out or have sex in some of the oddest places. The sneaking about heightened the passion. For him it was a great relief from stress. But he found that resting in her arms and listening to her breath was far more of a comfort to him. She completed him; she healed him.

  Over time and the initial objections of the military bureaucracy, they married. He moved out of the single officer's quarters and into a newly renovated room with her. She was amused when he insisted on following the ancient custom of carrying her over the threshold. It took several days of teething issues as they got used to each other's quirks and differences. They had a few brief amusing moments, like when she set the smoke alarm off attempting to make breakfast, making him come running wet and naked from the shower or when he had courted disaster by cleaning her clothes while she slept.

  Cecily was more than she appeared, and Isiah knew it. She had a grace about her, a way of doing things that instantly commanded respect and obedience. The mystery was amusing to Isiah who teased her about keeping her past so secret and vague.

  She, however, harbored occasional dark thoughts. At first she had wanted to kill the major for his part in bringing her father and the empire to its knees. Her traitorous body and emotions made her think twice about that plan. She blamed it all on her vulnerability as a refugee in hiding and the fear of being caught and executed.

  Staying with Major Sloan allowed her some contact with the one man in the galaxy she most wanted to be with, her father. She drew out stories of the major's daily contacts with the emperor. Two weeks after they were married, a day before the emperor was scheduled to go on trial for war crimes, the major finally broke down and introduced them. It took a lot of effort on his part to arrange the meeting. The young woman seemed justifiably nervous about the meeting, much to her husband's amusement.

  When her father recognized her, he used his communication link to her to stop her. He ordered the princess to remain with the major and live her life. “Take the long view, my daughter. He will be of use one day. Court him. Bend him to your will. Keep him by your side. He is the perfect match for you.” She had used nanites to change her physical appearance, finger prints, and even DNA, so she was surprised that he had seen through her disguise. She did her best to hide it from the prying eyes around her however.

  “How?” she sent in a short signal.

  He took her hand in his and allowed her to kiss it. “A father knows his daughter.” he texted her. “Do as I say. You are of royal blood. We take the long view. One day our house will rise again. Do not make my mistakes. Learn from them.”

  “We …”

  “The throne must survive. Remember that. You were correct; the people should be our concern. It is now our first imperative. You first among them. I do not want to see you brought down, Daughter. No, I forbid it. See to the new generation as a woman should. Perhaps in time we shall rise from the ashes once more. Guard your mother's back the best you can.”

  “I hear you are doing well by our people. I commend you. I wish I could do more. Please continue,” he said out loud for the listener's benefit.

  “I hear and obey, my liege,” she murmured, fighting tears as she bowed her head.

  ~~~<*^*>~~~

  Three years later the princess had moved in with the major to a new home and had carried a set of twins to term. Natural pregnancy had shocked and at times appalled her. But it had also changed her, changed her perspective on the view of naturals. She reasoned at first it was due to chemical changes in her biology due to the hormonal changes … but there was something more as well since the effect lingered. She smiled a lot more, especially at the twins. They were adorable.

  She had turned into a loving spouse and mother, keeping her secret. She rose through to prominence as someone who took care of the refugees. She organized work crews to clean up the battlefields and start businesses. The empire had been dependent on technology to make everything from tools to food; now they had to relearn ancient methods. She fought to bring in educators to help in that endeavor and get her people off the dole. Getting her people self-sufficient to some degree again kept the humanitarian crisis from becoming a major financial drain on the Republic as well as an emotional hot potato if it had led to a major famine and died off. She even found ways to restart the economy and trade between the Republic and conquered empire. Her efforts earned her respect from many people on both sides.

  The idea of the missing princess became legend as was the battle to capture the emperor. The missing princess was a thorn in the side of Republic intelligence. Some thought of it as Anastasia, the missing Russian princess from long ago. The entire affair was romanticized by the entertainment industry, making her reputation grow more and more. She wanted it to be forgotten because it remained a threat to her if her identity was ever found. Isaiah wasn't certain why she was so uncomfortable with the legend, but he knew not to pry when she signaled to drop it. He did tease her about calling little Asia and Ethan her perfect princess and prince.

  For his part in recent history, so did her husband. He was uncomfortable in the spotlight and downplayed his role in capturing the emperor as just doing his duty. He wanted to retire, but duty still called. She urged him for the sake of her people to remain in harness.

  Major Sloan had risen rapidly through the ranks, making lieutenant and then full bird colonel in less than two years. All to fill vacancies as more senior officers transferred or retired. He had recently been promoted to the rank of brigade general when General Bernard had been reassigned.

  He was now the senior most officer and was in charge of the conquered star system. He looked to his wife for the rock she was and her subtle guidance in navigating the halls of power. He still had lingering moments of PTSD, but her loving support had helped him to face the nightmares and problems, not shirk or hide from them.

  The dowager empress had been kept as a puppet government. She was kept on Earth to keep her from attempting any sort of rebellion. The emperor had been tried and sentenced for their war crimes, along with the surviving lords. All had been put to death. She was embittered by it but recognized her father's wisdom in keeping her silence.

  In his last meeting with Colonel Sloan, the emperor had urged him to take care of his wife and family. To love her and live a full life protecting his family. He actually seemed relieved to die; something had changed in him when Isaiah had shown him images of the twins. Isaiah had taken the words to heart, but he hadn't understood the reasons for why the emperor had taken such an interest in him or his family.

  The terrible war with the emperor had overstretched the Republic and it hadn't quite recovered fully, however. The empire had kept its technological secrets; its factories and research centers had self-destructed before or during capture, scorched earth tactics. The emperor had refused to turn them over to the conquerors despite the threat of death, even goading them into killing him out of spite.

  However, a new alien war was brewing out on the frontier. Little was known about them other than that they were powerful and warlike. General Sloan worriedly did his best to retain his noncom and officers. Something told him the Republic would need them soon.

  He was proven regrettably right a few weeks later when word got back to them that the aliens had torn apart the diplomats sent to make contact with them. The fleet had been in the process of standing down its forces; now many of the ships they had scrapped were desperately needed. Mutterings of the need of that technology filtered through the mindset of the public as the war became grisly and humanity was once again on the losing defense. Systems on the boarder of the aliens fell quickly since there were few warships in the area. Warships were rushed in to attempt to stem the tide, but they were ripped apart in small defensive actions in colonial space. Finally the Admiralty got wise and backstopped the ships at the sector capital. They hastily commandeered transports to rush troops in while the warships formed ranks.

  Due to Imperial Intelligence's eff
orts and the normal nature of mankind's selfishness, the Republic's political machine was rife with corruption, much to the disgust of the bootstrapped general. The people of the conquered empire are still resentful of the occupation, and news of the losses bring back remembrances of better times under the emperor. He kept a firm hand on the public and his own forces as well. He had to keep the public from rioting while keeping the soldiers from slaughtering them. It was a daily balancing act.

  ~~~<*^*>~~~

  When the enemy made a bold strike at Earth, shattering the defenses of the Republic and destroying half the orbital industry in the star system, chaos reigned throughout the Republic. Nation states fought for control of the fleet to protect themselves. The dowager empress called for order and a strong leadership. She was assassinated by a corrupt Republic senator's aide. He stated it was an overage of zeal and tried to use his immunity, but he in turn was assassinated.

  For his part in keeping order, General Sloan was promoted to major general as unrest brushed through the former empire. He was tasked with oversight of the entire empire. His wife was uneasy about not helping but felt torn at her feelings of savage glee that the government that had brought down her father and family was faltering and coming apart at the seams. She withdrew from helping her husband, instead focusing on the kids while secretly preparing her own plans to flee if necessary.

  General Sloan's intelligence officer quietly picked up on Mrs. Sloan's efforts. At first he thought she was doing it for the entire family. But when he noted she had chartered a small ship that couldn't carry the general as well, he got up the nerve and finally asked the general about the project. The general was taken off guard. He listened to the briefing and then coldly stormed out of the office.

  Isaiah came home and slammed the door, startling Cecily. She had been reading in her favorite chair. She shushed him, eyes wide as she rose from the chair. “Are you insane? I just got the twins down for their nap!” she scolded. “What's wrong?” she said, voice rising as she recognized he was home early and also upset.

  “I don't care. What the hell have you doing?” He brandished a tablet.

  Her eyes went wide, and she took an involuntary step back. She'd never seen him so angry at her. Angry yes, but they rarely ever fought to the point of raising their voices. But he was cold and enraged. For the first time, she was fully aware that he was a soldier, a trained killer. Someone that could hurt her if he wanted to do so or if he was enraged past reason to stop himself.

  Instinctively one hand went to her heart. “What … what do you mean?” She fought to keep herself from looking away.

  “All the scheming. Now this,” he said, tossing a tablet contemptuously onto the table beside her. She turned and picked it up with a frown. She glanced at him and then back to the device. She keyed it on, and then gasped when she saw the ship she had arranged so carefully for. “That's right, I know about that. Your plan to take the kids and run away. Some lover?” he demanded.

  “It's not like that, Isaiah,” she said, shaking her head. “You don't understand ….”

  “Oh, I don't? Some lover you've been keeping from me? Or just tired of me?”

  “No!” She shook her head frantically no. “It's not like that! Honestly! Where did this jealousy suddenly come from?”

  “Bullshit, Ceci. You and I know you've been keeping things from me. Hiding things. Things about your past. And now this, your future. You were planning to run off.”

  “Only if things went south. An escape plan.”

  “One without me in it I see,” he pointed out, still staring at her.

  She forced herself to stand straight and proud, to fight the urge to hunch under his intense gaze. She bit her lip though, a small sign to him of her guilt. His eyes narrowed. “I see.”

  “It's a go-to-hell plan, Isaiah! You of all people should recognize it! If anything happened to you or …,” she turned away, rubbing her right bicep as she felt a wave of discomfort. “I was … protecting the kids. Our future. With the aliens ….”

  He paused, forcing himself to think. To take a step back and consider what she had said. In a way it made sense, but she had resources he lacked. His intelligence team had checked the small yacht out carefully. It was outfitted quite well, beyond anything the Republic currently had access to.

  “And your past?”

  “Don't bring that up!” she said, turning on him with glittering eyes. “Some things are best forgotten. Left in the past. We're supposed to be building a future,” she said, taking a chance to come in close. Tentatively her hands reached out to touch his chest.

  His nostrils flared, taking in her scent. His body ached to take her in his arms; he hated this. Hated the secrets, hated the fight. But he had to know.

  “Yes, together. But that yacht can only carry three. You and the kids,” he said, pushing her away. She shot him a hurt look, but he ignored it. “And it had some interesting tech ….”

  “You entered it?” she demanded, temper rising at his violation of her personal space. Her privacy had been violated; her plans ruined.

  “You're damn right I did. My people are taking it apart now. They found all sorts of goodies there. Imperial goodies,” he accused, eying her.

  “I … I am from the empire. You knew that, Isaiah,” she reminded him.

  “Yes, but the emperor destroyed the tech, which made me wonder about this. The empress didn't even have the tech; she was married into the royal bloodline. Now she's dead. But yet here you …,” he shook his head, now fighting what his mind was grasping for. What his subconscious mind had found. He refused to believe it.

  “What? That I am the missing princess?” Cecily asked, voice rising into a strident tone. His eyes caught hers as she tried to laugh it off. But he saw through the intended deflection now she realized. “No,” she said, shaking her head.

  “It can't be possible. But all the facts … intelligence is going to want to question you.”

  Her eyes widened in alarm. Instinctively she looked around the room, checking the exits. “No! You c … can't! I'm your wife!”

  “Right under my nose,” he murmured. “If you aren't the princess, and I don't think you are,” he held up a restraining hand, “you are a scientist or someone with access to the imperial tech database. Someone close to the imperial house. We need that tech now if humanity is going to survive. Damn it, Ceci!” He shook his head as his hand fell. He paced.

  She watched him, now fully aware that she was in serious trouble. He wouldn't protect her, and for the first time in years, she was terrified. More terrified than during the war. Not just for her future but for the twins as well.

  “They will take you apart if you resist, if you lie to them,” he finally said, voice rough. He sounded like he was letting go, making her fear double. Her instinct to flee kicked in, but she fought it. There was nowhere to go. He'd cut off her only avenue of escape.

  “Are they here? Did you turn me in?” she asked, trying to remain calm. Her training came back to her. “Did you betray me?” she whispered.

  “Did I betray you?” He rounded on her, making her gasp again. “Do you want to say that again??!?” he demanded, eyes flashing. She shook her head no.

  “You can't let them have me. The twins ….”

  He closed his eyes in pain. He stood there and breathed as she watched him. “How deep does it go, Ceci. No more lies,” he said.

  “I … I was protecting you. Them,” she insisted.

  “No, you were protecting yourself. The kids came later, remember?” he scolded. She looked away as he tore that last shred of defense away.

  “Okay! I admit it! I am the princess!” she said, flinging it into his face. “The rightful heir to the throne of light! I and our children! There! Are you happy?” she demanded, hands on her hips.

  He stared at her, stunned by her admission.

  He reeled at this news. His communicator beeped as he found a seat and sat down. He placed his hands in his head and tried to think,
tried to breathe as all sorts of scenarios, none of them good, came to him. The kids … he kept thinking about what would happen to them. They were innocent in all this, but that wouldn't stop them from being used. Being used as pawns or targeted by those who hated the empire still.

  “Damn it,” he swore, then pulled the communicator out. She gaped but he ignored her for the moment. “What?” he demanded, hitting the talk button.

  “Sir, a courier boat just came in with the latest news from the Republic. It isn't good.”

  “More attacks?”

  “Thankfully no, sir. Um, should we be discussing this …?”

  “I'm at home not in public. Spit it out, George,” the general growled, eyes cutting to his wife.

  “Very well, sir. The president and cabinet of the Republic have kicked over a hornet's nest with the opposition when they attempted to run investigations targeting them. All sorts of black deeds are hitting the media. Several people in the government have resigned, at least two have disappeared. Others are finger pointing,” his adjunct informed him.

  His nostrils flared. A constitutional crisis was in full swing he realized.

  “Government has been paralyzed, and order is breaking down as we speak. According to the courier's report, it's a mess and getting worse by the moment. We need you back in headquarters soonest,” the aide urged as he uploaded a synopses of the report.

  General Sloan scanned it quickly. Chaos and rioting were beginning to strike at the heart of the Republic, paralyzing the military. Orders and counter orders were being sent every hour. Martial law had been declared by local governors as they tried to seize control for themselves. He realized he had to do something and was forced to act to prevent it from spreading to the conquered empire.