Ragnarok: Colonization, intrigue and betrayal.

by Andrew Claymore

  “And your dad still gave me his blessing. Gotta be doing something right.”

  Frank turned to Trisha but she dashed his hopes with a shrug. “I don’t care how big or small our ceremony is,” she told him. “Most of the colonists would probably enjoy a wedding at the start of our new world.”

  “There you go, big brother,” John’s voice sounded clearer – suspiciously clearer. “She’s ok with it and what better start could you possibly want for a new world?”

  Frank spun in surprise. John was standing to his right. He learned how to do that? It’s only been a few weeks… He suddenly remembered Luna’s jibe from their send-off. Manners first, questions later.

  “John,” he said, smiling like an idiot, “this is Trisha Seshan, from Kerala. Trisha, this is my brother, John McAdam.”

  She scrambled down from the pallet, tucking in a stray wisp of hair and looking a little freaked out. “Hello, Mr. McAdam.”

  “Ms. Seshan, please,” he offered his hand. “That’s what folks called our dad. It’s just plain old John.”

  Her eyes relaxed a little. “Then it’s just plain old Trisha as well.”

  “Oh I wouldn’t say that,” John let her hand go, “not by a long shot!”

  How in hell does he do that? Frank wondered. Does he just have a repertoire of phrases that maneuver him into a place where he can drop a clever compliment?

  All of a sudden, he was back in California, embarrassed but still accepting help from his little brother on how to get a date for the senior prom. He shook his head. Doesn’t matter how charming he is; she’s still marrying me!

  “This is her son, Vikram,” Frank said, gesturing the lad over.

  Vikram came over and shook John’s offered hand, eyes wide. He edged over to Frank when John let go.

  “You guys get caught up,” Luna said, reminding them that they were still on a call. “We’ll set up a space here on the Mouse for the ceremony.”

  Before John could think to say anything, they were gone. So much for a small wedding, he thought.

  Small Ceremony

  The Mouse, Ragnarok High Orbit

  Luna took a moment to compose herself. She knew the flutter she felt in her chest would find its way into her words and then both she and Trisha would be crying.

  She took a deep breath. “You look so beautiful!” she managed. “The dress fits you so much better. I only had a few hours on Earth to pick it and no time for any detailed alterations.

  “It was a little loose on me in certain key areas but it looks like it was made for you.”

  “Oh, I’m a bundle of nerves right now!” Trisha looked anxiously at Luna. “Can’t we just start now? I mean go out there right now and send someone to drag Frank to the platform?”

  Luna took in a sharp breath, one hand on her throat. “Good lord, woman, even as freaked out as you are, you look like a goddess! You need to see for yourself. Holo mirror.” She waved her hand to indicate the plane of reflection.

  Trisha stared at a holographic copy of herself. “You know, it almost…”

  A chime sounded. Luna checked the security feed and opened the door for Lakshmi Kawle.

  “As I thought,” she said primly. “You look lovely but the dress is nearly pure white! We need a little color.” She unfolded a length of yellow silk, brocaded with fine needlework.

  “The others couldn’t come because they would have missed the ceremony while trudging back to their platforms.” She stepped over to Trisha and held up the fabric, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

  Luna held out a hand and helped drape it over the bride’s shoulder.

  “The others?” Trisha asked.

  Lakshmi arranged the silk over Trisha’s arm. “Yes. All the other ladies contributed something to the original owner of this silk.” She nodded to herself. “That looks much better!”

  “All…”

  The chairman’s wife looked up, smiling. “Yes, all of us. What better start to our life on Ragnarok than to share in the happiness of a new couple?”

  “Oh!” She pulled out a kerchief from somewhere and dabbed gently at Trisha’s eyes. “Now don’t get worked up, Dear you’ll make a mess of your makeup!”

  Sushil grinned. “Relax, Frank. It’s a wedding, not an execution!”

  “I know,” he said, though he was still pacing back and forth across the small room. “It’s just, you can’t help but wonder if she’s going to come to her senses and call it off at the last minute.”

  “Come to her senses?” Terry exclaimed. “Dammit, Boss, you’re one of the smartest folks I know but there’s times you make me look like Albert freaking Einstein!”

  Sushil grunted, though his meaning was unclear.

  “She’s a smart woman,” Terry insisted, “and she knows a good man when she sees one.”

  “I’ll probably trip over my own feet or forget how to talk…”

  “And an hour from now, you’ll still be her husband,” Terry said firmly. “Maybe taking advice about how to act from a guy who’s been arrested for public urination is a bad idea but, I’m telling you, this whirlwind will all be over in a few minutes and you can relax and enjoy the festivities.”

  “Terry is correct,” Sushil said, sounding more than a little surprised. “Nothing to be nervous about…”

  A chime sounded and Luna’s voice was transmitted into the room. “Is everybody decent in there?”

  “Yes,” Sushil answered.

  The door snapped open, far faster than they were used to on the Kuphar, and their lady entered, wearing a blue dress. “We’re almost ready,” she told them, giving Frank a nod of approval. She rapped a knuckle against his chest-plate.

  “Formal armor pattern looks very good on you, Frank. I’d better stay close to her, just in case she falls into a swoon at the sight of you!” she exclaimed, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically.

  Frank couldn’t help but laugh. “A swoon? What are you, a big romance reader? Tough fighter pilot like you?”

  “You laugh,” she said sweetly, “but wait till you walk out there and see her. I wore that same dress a few days ago and I wish I could have looked half as good in it as she does right now.”

  “You loaned her your dress?” Frank asked. He’d figured she would have worn her nicest outfit. Then again, he hadn’t expected to get married in a suit of high-tech formal armor either.

  And now the nerves, lessened somewhat by Luna’s arrival, were back. The idea of how Trisha would look in her dress, and he had every reason to believe Luna on this, was making his knees a little wobbly. He dropped his backside into a chair.

  “It’s more like a gift to the colony,” she said. “One day, your descendants will have a museum in Ragnarok’s planetary capital. The dress of the very first lady of our people and the first wedding of the colony will make a nice exhibit.”

  The door snapped open again and John came in. “Sorry I’m late. Just a few last-minute details that needed wrapping up.”

  He raised an eyebrow at Luna. “Did you know your old pal, Hennessy, used to be a pastor? They’d already asked him – ship’s captain and all that, but he’s an honest to goodness pastor.”

  Luna stared at him, mouth slowly falling open. “You’re not fooling, are you? Thruster?” She stared right through John. “Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever noticed the man cussing. He’s led a fairly clean existence, as far as fighter pilots go…”

  “Why does that not sound like a five-star, ringing endorsement of his character?” John asked wryly.

  She snorted. “I knew he was on deck for the ceremony but… Thruster a man of the cloth...”

  “He’s already on the platform, next to your husband.”

  “Then let’s get these two married before their heads explode.” She headed for the door. “We’re going to move the second I’m back with her, so be ready.”

  She left and the door snapped shut. Another dull clang heralded her arrival in Trisha’s chamber.
<
br />   Frank looked to his left but the source of the strange new waterfall sound was somewhere beyond the walls. He forgot about it because John was now marshaling the men in the room, lining them up on Frank’s left side.

  His brother was just stepping into his place on Frank’s immediate left when the floor around the bottom of the walls began to melt away and flow upward to form blocks of nanites on the ceiling. So that was the waterfall sound, Frank thought.

  Then the platform was descending into what was ordinarily the new fighter hangar of the Mouse. The room was the size of a large cathedral and, in accordance with standard imperial design, it looked like one as well.

  The new Human ships, like the corvette that John had shown to Frank as proof of his story, were less ornate but even they had more flourishes than he would have expected.

  This ship was a spoil of conflict, built to imperial standards and the coding still controlled the look and feel of its spaces. Forty bays along each side were separated by ornate columns and huge amber-colored light fixtures, each the size of an automobile, gave the place a vaguely Victorian/industrial feel.

  The fighters had been cleared from the upper bays, sent out to patrol the region while the leadership was focused on the ceremony. In their places, platforms hovered, carrying the more than three hundred colonists. All of them had nervously crossed nanite boarding bridges between the Kuphar and the Mouse earlier in the day.

  Frank was barely aware of his fellow colonists, completely unaware of the stirring, orchestral-choral piece that echoed through the chamber as his platform drifted toward the front of the impromptu cathedral.

  He could see the platform where Trisha stood, looking like a goddess in her dress. Something borrowed, he thought, and something… yellow? It looks good on her. His knees twitched.

  Stay on your feet, Frankie, he thought firmly. Desperate for a bit of distraction, he let himself notice the view out the shielded openings that ran along the back of each bay and met in a graceful curve behind the bridal platform.

  Ragnarok hung there, behind his bride, the blue and green curve filling the top half of the windows.

  Now they were at the front. He returned her radiant smile with one that he hoped didn’t look idiotic. He leaned along with his party as the platform came to a halt and knit itself together with hers.

  He had to admit it; Terry was right. From the moment his platform melted together with Trisha’s, the rest of the day was a whirlwind. He knew Hennessy was conducting a proper service, he knew the lord and lady of the species were standing with them, he knew how proud Vikram was to give his mother to Frank (being the eldest male available in her family), he knew he was getting married to an amazing woman but it all seemed to flash past him in a blur.

  And then he was holding her, giving her that first kiss, though they’d shared more than a few by now. He was exhausted but happy. He was moved by Terry’s enthusiastic congratulations, surprised at how happy the young man was for him.

  And he wasn’t so tired that he failed to notice the look on Mrs. Naidu’s face when Terry saw the intricate henna tattoos on Trisha’s hands and forearms.

  “That’s incredible,” he’d said in quiet wonder yet not so quiet that Mrs. Naidu didn’t catch it. “You didn’t have this yesterday. How could anyone make something so beautiful in such a short time?”

  She held out her hands so he could get a better look. “Kiara did this last night. The whole thing took her two hours.”

  “Kiara,” he repeated, still looking at the patterns. “Man, she’s all kinds of incredible, isn’t she?”

  For the life of him, Frank couldn’t figure out if Terry was innocently unaware that Kiara’s mother was listening or if he was deliberately telegraphing his interest. The kid did stupid things but that didn’t mean he was stupid.

  And Frank was just too tired to spend any time untangling Terry’s motives. He placed his arm around Trisha, resting his hand on her waist. Too tired but not too tired...

  They’d been circulating among the colonists, moving among the platforms which had emerged from the fighter bays, apparently like the barges at Throne World. It had probably only been an hour or two but it felt like they’d been on their feet for days.

  Gleb and Luna approached and the crowd cleared a path for them. Gleb leaned in close to Frank. “How’d you sleep last night? I was falling asleep on my feet by this point last week in California.”

  Frank nodded slightly. “Y’know, the only reason I know I got any sleep at all is because I had a dream. Woke up thinking someone was trying to call me.”

  Gleb gave him a startled look. He leaned in a little closer, eyes focused intently on Frank’s then he shook his head. “You need some rest,” he told the groom. “And we need to get you two out of here before rest is all you have the energy for!”

  Luna must have been having a similar conversation with Trisha. They already looked ready to go when Gleb and Frank turned their way.

  By this time, armored guards had formed a cordon leading to a more ornate platform and the new couple began moving toward it.

  The guards snapped to attention and held their weapons across their chests as the small procession passed. They boarded the small barge and moved off, the sound of cheers fading behind them as they ascended.

  “We’ve taken the liberty of having a special suite created for you, here on the Mouse,” Gleb told them. “Probably best if you stay here. There’s that council meeting tomorrow so it would save you having to get back over here.”

  He turned when Luna put a hand on his shoulder and leaned over to listen as she whispered in his ear. He looked back at the new couple. “Don’t know what I was thinking,” he said with a grin. “We’ll push that meeting back till afternoon.”

  They slid to a halt against a wall that dissolved out of the way, revealing a large, nicely furnished room. “Your things were moved here from your rooms on the Kuphar,” Gleb said. He coughed significantly and then held out his hand, palm upward.

  Luna snorted, thumping him on the shoulder. “Where did you even learn about bellhops? You didn’t even know about Earth a few months ago and now you’re fishing for a tip?”

  Gleb’s eyes widened. “Tip? I thought that gesture meant something like ‘enjoy your room’.”

  She rolled her eyes and pulled Gleb back from the room. “We’ll leave you in peace,” she said as a seam opened in the middle of the barge’s deck. “Congratulations!”

  Sections of the wall began to regrow, leaving a doorway in the middle. Frank turned to his new wife. “Not to rush you, but I think we should go inside before we end up stuck out here on a ledge.” He grinned. “Well, part of me wants to rush you into the suite…” That came out a little more suggestive than I expected. I hope she’s not going to take offense...

  She grabbed his hand and pulled him through the door. “Mr. McAdam! You’re a very naughty man! You’d better tell me about this ‘part’.”

  And so began the second whirlwind of the evening.

  Sweat Equity

  Site Selection

  The Mouse, Ragnarok Orbit

  Frank arrived at the meeting early. It was in the same dramatic setting as the wedding. A fitting choice that Ragnarok would hover over their deliberations.

  His brother was already there, along with Gleb, Luna, Sushil, Captain Hennessy, Mal – the warrior who’d be commanding the garrison, two women and the Lady Bau. “If I was the one who married that lovely lady yesterday,” John said in Imperial with a grin, “I’d be showing up late to this, not early!”

  “And then you’d have an entire platform full of people, all grinning and making lewd comments,” Frank replied in the same language. “Now they’ll all be arriving one or two at a time and they might smile but they’ll be on their own and I’m already here, part of the overall group.”

  He didn’t even notice consciously but the presence of an alien had shifted his mind into using the only alien language he knew, even in the ordering of his thought
s.

  “Oh, that’s good!” Gleb said nudging John in the ribs with his elbow. “Starting to look like your brother’s the smart one.”

  “Still think you don’t belong on the council?” Sushil asked, sounding as though he already knew the only answer that made sense.

  Frank shrugged, then remembered his manners. He gave Bau a nod, the closest he felt he should ever come to bowing to any ‘noble’. “My Lady,” he greeted her. No sense in ignoring a powerful friend.

  “He’s discerned my darkest secret!” the Quailu exclaimed dramatically and in a suspiciously deep falsetto.

  Frank frowned at the group as it dissolved into laughter. The alien stepped forward and Frank nearly recoiled from the smell. “I owe you an apology, Mr. McAdam.” Its voice sounded like it was gargling a mouthful of gravel.

  “I sensed your assumption about me when you arrived for the ceremony yesterday,” the creature admitted. “I’m just having some fun at your expense, I’m afraid.”

  “Frank...” John gestured to the Quailu. “… this is Father Sulak. He’s what they call an oracle in the empire.”

  “And the republic as well,” Sulak added loftily, patting his chest. “We are terribly eminent fellows, I’ll have you know…”

  He frowned slightly, glancing down at his hand and drew, from the chest of his tunic, something that looked like a moldy strip of jerky.

  “Oh!” he exclaimed, taking a large bite and chewing it with evident satisfaction.

  “What does an oracle do?” Frank asked him.

  “Portents,” came the mushy, half chewed reply. “The will of the gods and such.”

  “He cleaned up for your wedding,” Gleb said, “but he cultivates this slovenly appearance for…” He frowned. “Father, why exactly do you dress like that?”

  “It lowers expectations,” Sulak explained, offering an expansive wave of welcome to a mildly startled group of colonists who’d just walked in.

  Frank had expected some knowing smiles from the other councillors as they arrived but they were all too distracted by the odd alien in their midst. They’d been chatting among themselves as their platforms approached but they invariably went quiet as they noticed the alien.