by TS Hottle
"Am I that famous?"
For the first time since she had landed, the lycanths all yapped, a laughing sound she had come to recognize over the past couple of years.
"You're known." The man lowered his rifle and turned toward the interior of the cave. He cocked his head toward the outside.
A Gelt woman, who could have been working in a garden when the weapon struck, emerged, her face covered in soot. She shuffled with the zombie-like posture of the shell-shocked. A few canines showed when she made eye contact and smiled. Her hand waved at her side, and a girl who could not be more than four, more likely three, came out. She stopped when she saw Suicide.
"Carolyn?" said Suicide.
"Where's mommy?" Carolyn Best cried.
Athena Jovann, the Metisian-appointed governor-general of Amargosa, stood in holographic form in the Queen of the Canopy's cockpit. Tall and slim like her sister, Diana, she lacked the military bearing the late General Jovann had in life. She did not need it. Her own regal posture commanded attention, even via image. "The governor is awake and alert, but he is not ready to resume his duties. How bad is the situation where you are?"
Suicide pressed her lips thin. "The village is destroyed. I think we have to rethink our theory of a kinetic needle. We've found fragments both at the village and in the Thulian enclave. Kinetics, even light ones, usually vaporize completely on impact."
"May I see the fragments?" asked Jovann.
"I prefer to wait until we're in New Lansdorp, and I can show you in person."
Jovann nodded in approval, but her eyes showed the opposite. "Admiral Burke will be there, coming aboard the Utopia Planitia." She gave a thin smile. "Chancellor Orias of Hanar will be coming, too, probably to badger his boss into returning home. They'll both want to see what you have."
The name Burke settled Suicide's nerves. "That's the best news I've had since this started. We'll head back within the hour. Queen of the Canopy out." To JT, she said, "Still have that fragment I gave you?"
He patted his jacket breast pocket. "Right where I left it."
"Good. Any theories why both weapons would have the Juno logo on them?"
JT shrugged. "Probably for someone to know which ones to steal. Or pull from storage. Remember, there's a working theory that says Juno, the real Juno, not the company, stole seven to ten fusion devices, two of which I've seen detonated."
"And yet their former top sales agent is now acting President of the Compact. Tread carefully, Austin. The man tried to kill a lot of people, including your father."
"Allegedly."
"My ass. Every time someone asks a question about Marcus Leitman, they end up dead, or have a close brush with death."
The New Lansdorp Hilton had been one of the first chain businesses to open up after the liberation. Unfortunately, that meant the hotel occupied a nano-grown building. It might have been solid enough to handle growing guest list, but it looked…
Fake. Suicide came from Tian, where buildings hearkened back to China and America in their heydays, iconic spires and odd sculptures. Buildings like that seldom resulted from nano-cultures no matter how well the architects designed their frames. The Hilton occupied a boring twenty-story box with rounded windows and no lines. Even the corporate logo near the top of the building just made it look like a box with a brand name slapped on it.
She shrugged as she approached the building. New Lansdorp had been a camp laid out by Gelt settlers after the liberation as a peace offering to the surviving humans. The first hundred or so buildings had been cultured. Further from the city center and in formerly vacant lots, people and bots welded and fastened handmade components in and on composite frames. Until these buildings opened and the wooden houses on the outskirts welcomed residents, New Lansdorp would always be a glorified encampment to Suicide.
It did not surprise her to find Tishla on the Hilton's second floor in two ordinary adjoining rooms. The woman could demand the penthouse suite with all the servants the provisional government could pay for, and she insisted on doing her own maid service in a room suited for pilots laying over for a night.
"Carolyn!" The Gelt girl Athena ran to the door when her mother opened it. She threw her arms around little Carolyn and spun her around. "You coming to live with us?"
"She and Naomi are going to be our guests," said Tishla. She took Suicide by the elbow and brought her in. "Come in, come in. Did you take her to see her father yet?"
Suicide frowned. "Still too dangerous, at least until we know who tried to kill the girls' parents." She looked around the room. "Speaking of which, why do you not have security? There should be Capital Police all over this floor, maybe with some of your enforcers from Hanar outside the door."
Tishla shrugged. "Security by obscurity. I think that's the term your people use. They have to know I'm here."
"And if we find out JT's cabin has been destroyed?"
"Then I take him home with me." She cocked her head. "Or, I suppose, he might have to finally go back on active duty with the Compact."
"You need to go home, First Citizen. You cannot pretend to be a refugee housekeeper anymore. Whoever went after the Bests is going to figure out you're here and shirking your duties soon."
Tishla reached over to a nearby desk, imitation Ikea, Suicide noticed, and produced a pair of spectacles. "I'll leave as Chancellor Orias's personal assistant. I almost was at one point. He couldn't afford to indenture me."
And you wanted an excuse to sleep with your childhood friend, thought Suicide. That wasn't fair. She knew Tishla had tried to protect her friend, her master, and, after his death, her husband. The girl had suffered as much as anyone from the war. "Good. You did a good thing creating Hanar. The last thing we need is for you to get taken out while on vacation."
"I know." Tishla sighed. "It's just a relief being normal for once. I don't know how many more chances I'll have to do it. Can't go back to the Realm, and I'm not exactly welcome in the Compact, at least while this place is in limbo."
Suicide watched Athena play with Carolyn and Naomi. She seemed fascinated by the small, pale-skinned humans, either because of age or species. Probably both. Athena likely did not have a lot of children of any kind to play with. Suicide, for all her love of solitude, even had that growing up. Then again, Tian wasn't exactly sparsely populated, especially in its cities. "Nothing personal, but it's those three that concern me. Your daughter is the key to Hanar's existence, at least until you can completely shake off the Realm for good. And those two are more than just a pair of human children."
"They are a genetic treasure. My species is counting on them, too, whether or not they know it."
"Will you be there when I meet the admiral and your chancellor?"
Tishla spread her hands. "I suppose I have to be a responsible actor again some time. I was really hoping it wasn't until we returned home." She looked up at the ceiling. "Gods, I can't wait until we decide on a new First Citizen."
"And when is that?"
She shook her head. "When I can afford to tell my own home stars to fuck off." She put her hand to her mouth and blushed, which looked strange with her gray skin. "Sorry. The universe is cruel with its sense of humor, isn't it?"
Suicide had to agree.
Douglas Best looked like a corpse, even with his eyes open. Pale, his hair disheveled, and eyes sunken, the governor of Amargosa in limbo lay in his hospital bed with tubes in his arms, his chest, even his legs. The lack of a breathing tube told Suicide he still lived. That and the medbot parked next to his bed with its displays showing blood pressure, heart and breathing rates, brain activity, and a host of other readings she did not pretend to understand.
"Governor Best," she said.
Best managed a weak smile. Despite the Thulian rejuvenation he had undergone, he looked old. "Commander Cui. Are my daughters safe?"
"Safe and together, sir." She closed the door. The guards outside did not object, which unsettled her. Like the planet itself, Suicide's status remained in
limbo. Was she an officer of the Compact Navy? Of Amargosa's colonial defense? Technically, she was an admiral for Tishla's own government, a position she had yet to exercise. "I placed them with a friend, who will take them off-world."
"And my wife?"
That part she did not want to talk about, but the man had a right to know. "No sign of Madam Best, sir. Colonel Sheridan at the Colony tells me she left as soon as she heard you'd been shot. Why, sir, would she not run to your side?"
Best took a deep breath, a hitch stopping him but not exploding into a cough. "Sorry. My chest is not in the best shape at the moment. Jayne and I agreed if someone came after us, that we'd separate, hide the children, and wait for it to blow over. I take it my wife is in the wind at the moment."
"She is," said Suicide. "For now. Would you like me to go look for her?"
She had not noticed the door behind her had opened. Stupid of her, she thought, since she made a point of knowing her surroundings no matter how safe it might seem.
"We would prefer you left that to the Navy, Commander Cui." The accent sounded Etruscan, with its hint of Latin in the way the vowels sounded and the softness of the consonants. Suicide turned to see a slender brunette woman in a crisp white business suit, long tailored blazer, and narrow pencil skirt. "My name is Drusilla Denarus, and I am an agent of the President's chief of staff."
Suicide thought she heard Best groan at the mention of the president. "May I help you, Ms. Denarus?"
"I'm here to help you," said Denarus. "The President would like you to know that his chief of staff will be here to step in to handle your duties as soon as she arrives."
"Um…" Suicide placed herself between Best and Denarus. "Is the acting President aware the Compact technically has no authority here? That Amargosa currently is the focus of an amicable dispute between Metis and Hanar?"
"I'm sure you'll agree that, as the President does not recognize Hanar, and Metis is still technically a member of the Compact, he is well within his…"
"Governor-General Jovann will have the last word on the subject," said Best. His voice sounded strong now, as though he were standing next to Suicide and in full health. "President Leitman knows my wishes on this subject. Our status is a delicate thing, and I'm sure he would not want to do anything that would tip public opinion in favor of those wanting independence."
Lovely, thought Suicide. The weasel back on Earth wants to trigger a civil war.
"The President feels," said Denarus with a tone one might take with a petulant child, "that, despite Metis's admirable attempts to build a fleet of its own, it is not up to protecting what was once a Martian colony. Therefore, he has dispatched the Anna Khirovsky to serve as the command ship of Amargosa's defenses."
"I thought she was still in construction dock," said Suicide.
"This will be her shakedown cruise." Denarus pushed herself around Suicide and stepped over to Best's bed. "Governor, you are clearly too injured to perform your duties. The President wants to see that your work is completed despite your setback."
"I need access to my staff," said Best, "a pad, and a direct line of communication with the Governor-General, who, I might add, visits me daily. The President's assistance is not required, nor did I ask for it."
"The President disagrees," said Denarus. Finally, she turned to Suicide. "Commander, Chief of Staff Salamacis would like to debrief you and Lieutenant Austin upon her arrival. Please do not be late."
Suicide kept her expression neutral. "Lieutenant Austin is not on active duty with the Compact Navy. Therefore, he is not subject to your orders."
"We disagree." Denarus nodded to Best. "Don't worry, Governor. We only want what's best for Amargosa. No pun intended."
"Then tell Marcus to butt out and let me do my job." The use of the acting President's first name in a casual tone amused Suicide. "Good day, Ms. Denarus."
Suicide thought the functionary closed the door a bit harder than necessary. "Sir, I…"
"Meet with Admiral Burke and the chancellor." Best looked deflated now that Denarus was gone. His breathing became more labored again, his voice weaker. "Defer to Madam Jovann until she tells you otherwise. I will not let Marcus Leitman ruin Amargosa a second time. Where are you taking my children?"
Suicide managed a smile. "They are with a mutual friend who really does have your best interests at heart." She assumed parade stance. "Sir, as I and Mr. Austin are in possession of an Amargosan ship and have been working under your jurisdiction, do you have any additional orders for us?"
A grimace marred Best's face. "Yeah. Find my wife. Make sure the two of you are off world before Salamacis arrives. Otherwise, that bitch will mess up the works."
Suicide saluted.
"And don't salute. Bad enough I have to do this job from a hospital bed."
RETROACT: 408 IE
Shandug, Tian
She had seen the painting before, a group of people in a park on a Sunday afternoon. The original artist had even named it that. Now, Yun wanted to do her own version. Only she had opted to paint on a weekday evening. She wasn't even on Earth. At least she chose a park.
The original painting had been of beach goers on an island during the nineteenth century AD. Those in the picture dressed in extreme moderation, a phrase one of her instructors had used. She loved the irony. This evening, she had, as her subjects, men and women of multiple ethnicities in office clothes strolling with their small children, older children and various adults indulging in some team sport or another, and college students not unlike herself, most of them paired off in couples. This last saddened her. It would be their final weekend before the university term ended and the older ones, like her, would have to go out into the real world.
Scariest of all, Yun had opted to paint. Normally, she sketched in charcoal. Sketchbooks with dozens of her works lay at her feet. At least the weather and the timing cooperated. Not a cloud marred the sky, and Tian's huge moon, Hecate, loomed on the horizon opposite the sun. If she hurried, but not too quickly, she could catch the light properly to give that twilight glow to her subjects while a faint moon dominated the background.
"Take a picture," the male voice behind her said. "It's faster and lasts longer."
Yun whirled, barely taking the brush off the canvass in time to avoid drawing a black streak across an otherwise perfect painting. "Listen, if you want to be a…"
He stood there in a black Navy uniform, ensign's bars on his collar. The breast patch tagged him as a pilot in the 42nd Fighter Wing, CNS Hancock. The grin…
She could never forget that grin. "Akrad!"
Ensign Akrad Izumi picked her up and spun as she leaped into his arms. "Missed you so much, Little Wing." He put her down. "That actually looks pretty good."
Yun turned back to look at the half-finished painting. "Oh, that? It's for my final."
"I'd say you're going to pass."
"I will if I finish." She turned back to Akrad. "Art is my flying. It's what I do to feel free." Her smile faded. "And I know I'll never fly. You may draw before I fly."
"Well, actually…" He held out his palm and fingered his wrist over the chip beneath the skin. A home screen appeared on his palm, and he began tapping and swiping at various icons. Moments later, a sketch appeared, a young woman sat on a rock with a sketch pad of her own, staring out at a sunset.
Yun's eyes widened. "Is that…?"
"It's you." He closed his hand to send away the picture. "I started drawing at the Academy. I didn't want to show you until I could do a passable job at it."
"You did that from memory?"
"I snapped a picture of you last time I was on leave."
"It's quite good, actually." She kissed him on the cheek. "Does this mean I have to learn to fly?"
Akrad looked up at the sky. The city lights on Hecate became visible as the sky darkened. He faced Yun once more. "Actually, I can teach you. On one condition."
"What's that, fly boy?"
"Have dinner with me."
&
nbsp; She threw her arms around him. "I'd love to."
5
"Interesting," said Vice Admiral Eileen Burke. Despite holding command of a third of the Compact's fleet, the well-rejuved redhead dressed in shipboard fatigues. Only the three stars on her collar announced her rank. For that, Suicide would always admire her. "They etched this on a stolen piece of Realm equipment."
"How do we know it was stolen?" This from a grizzled old Gelt man with the hairless, tattooed scalp of the Warrior Caste. "With the mood the Sovereign's in, the Realm could very well have stolen a Compact weapon."
Tishla jumped to her feet instantly. "The Sovereign would never…" Despite her actual title, First Citizen of Hanar, she stopped when the old man put up his hand and sat back down.
The old man smirked. "Patience, my dear. The Sovereign is fond of you because His Father was fond of you. And His immediate successor admired you. So, that's three Sovereigns in a row." His eyes flicked to Burke and Suicide, who, along with Athena Jovann, sat opposite Tishla and the old man. "Governor-General, Admiral, Commander, the Sovereign understands making a move on Amargosa now would be a huge mistake. His preferred outcome is that Metis secede and Amargosa joins with Hanar. But while that man is your President, a state of war will exist between the Realm and the Compact. Some of his inner circle may think nothing of framing the Compact for an attack against Amargosa. It would be a pretense for escalating the conflict."
"Chancellor Orias…" said Jovann.
His hand went up again, gently. "Please. Call me Palak." He pointed at Tishla. "This one has since childhood."
"Palak, then. And I am Athena. Palak, I get why He resents humans for the death of His father," said Jovann. "But why the President? Yes, I know most people consider him a weasel…"
"Weasel?" Tishla leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Palak nodded and said, "Ah. Some kind of vermin. Sounds appropriate."
