by S A Asthana
Haruto looked up at his queen with raised brow.
“I said dance, servant.” Marie sat upright and snapped her fingers. The red silk blanket draping her chest fell away, revealing bare breasts. Haruto performed what she thought was a traditional Nipponese dance, Nihon buyo, but it wasn’t polished. He kept forgetting the steps. Nervousness stretched his wrinkled face.
Marie cackled like a hyena. Pointing at two other servants, both sitting in the corner, she screeched, “Come dance with him.”
The two elderly women exchanged a glance. Marie screamed, “Dance, you cunts!”
They scurried over, their black kimonos flailing, and joined the man. The three danced an awkward unsynchronized number while Marie clapped. “Yes!” she shouted. “Much better.”
She threw a few grapes at the man. “Some fruits for your labor, servant.” They bounced off his face and fell by his bare feet. “Eat them!” she ordered. The man did as told. Marie continued to snicker all the while. A goddess gets what she wants – no matter how silly the command.
“My empress.” Another man interrupted. He stood by the entrance door.
“What is it? For fuck’s sake, what? Can’t you see I’m busy?” She pointed at the dancing servants.
“Y-yes, my empress, but… but the emperor requests your presence in the royal meeting room.”
Marie shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I told him not to bother me. Well, what does he want?”
“He… he didn’t say. He just said he wanted—”
“Fuck. Fine. You can stop dancing now, idiots.”
The three servants stood still, sweaty with embarrassment and out of breath.
Marie sauntered into the emperor’s room naked. Yukito gawked at her from behind a mahogany desk, his eyes bloodshot from a recent euphoria binge. Gensui-Rikugun-Taishō and the other two soldiers standing in the center turned their eyes away to avoid seeing the empress in a state of undress.
Marie laughed. “What? You’ve never seen tits before, old man?” She jiggled her breasts at them. There was nothing better than seeing men feign shame or disinterest in her bare body. Liars, the lot of them. They all wanted one thing.
Wiping a trail of blood away from his nostrils, Yukito trained his dagger of a stare at Gensui-Rikugun-Taishō. “You are a fool.” Turning back to Marie, he motioned with a pistol in his hand for her to come to him. She strolled over and sat on his lap. “My queen, let me tell you what’s going on.” He leaned into her ear. “We have lost our entire fleet to the dirty red demons.”
Marie’s smile waned. Her eyes enlarged. “How could this happen?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.” Yukito pointed his gun at the military men. “What happened?”
“I will take the blame for this, my emperor.” The marshal’s head hung. His eyes remained glued to the floor. “I underestimated the enemy.”
“To this extent?” Yukito barked. “We lost the entire fleet. All twenty Kamikazes and both the mobile suits. How?”
“We were… we were outnumbered, my emperor. They just had more firepower.”
“They had attack-bots we weren’t aware of,” one of the soldiers jumped in. “If they hadn’t—”
Yukito shot him.
“My emperor!” Gensui-Rikugun-Taishō shouted as his subordinate’s body slumped. “I don’t understand. Why shoot him, Yukito?”
“Emperor.” Yukito’s eyes were large. The trail of blood seeping out his nostrils had restarted. “You will address me as emperor. You understand, old man?” His voice was sharp like a katana blade.
The marshal nodded with his eyes averted to the carpet.
“You know something? If this was the edo period, you would have to perform seppuku.” Yukito leaned back in the plush leather chair and pushed his thick glasses further up his nose. A picture of a spectacled man, Prime Minister Hideki Tojo from World War Two, hung along with other black and white scenes of the infamous conflict. Nowhere were to be found pictures of Akiyama and his son Etsuji. They were banished from the room they had occupied as rulers until recently. “For the shame you have brought upon us, you would have used your own sword and sliced through your intestines.”
Marie leaned her elbows on the desk. “Maybe I can be of some help, Yuki.” A wicked smile cut across her face and a steel tentacle snaked out of her back. The powers of a cyborg. The marshal took a step back, as did his remaining subordinate.
Admiring the appendage’s gleaming metal, Yukito noted, “No need for that. We didn’t need the other yapping fool. But we do need him.” Locking eyes with the marshal, Yukito said, “Your strategy was wrong. All wrong. You should have known in advance what we were up against. The Sydneysiders had home terrain advantage – you should have been better prepared.”
The two army men nodded.
“They will strike back,” Marie said, all the while inspecting a nail on her outstretched right arm. “They know we have been weakened.”
“Our defenses are impenetrable,” the marshal said, his voice thick with years of martial experience. “Our satellite defense system, the canons, the—”
“Yea, I don’t need a lesson in our martial strength – I am well aware.” Yukito put up his hand. “I don’t want to find out how impenetrable we are. I still want to attack.”
The marshal swallowed hard and shifted his weight from foot to foot. His nervousness was obvious – the brown, imperial-style military uniform now appeared wrinkled as if the crispness had been reprimanded out. He said, “Nippon One does not have attack capabilities at moment… my emperor.”
“I know.” Yukito scoffed. “That’s why I have someone else in mind to do the work.”
The marshal’s wrinkled face scrunched ever further into confusion. He was like a lost, hundred-year-old man.
“What do you have up your sleeve, Yuki?” Marie leaned back into her husband, her breasts glistening under the room’s recessed lights.
“Something lethal.” Yukito turned his attention to a speaker on the left wall and commanded, “Computer, make contact with Alejandro Noriega.”
“Sending ping.” A soft, female voice resounded. “Communication accepted.”
Several beeps later, a hoarse voice boomed over the room’s intercom, “Hello, my friend! So nice of you to get in touch, Yukito. Or should I say… mighty emperor.” A loud laugh broke through the line’s crackle. “I still can’t believe you took that title.”
Yukito ignored the insult, as if countering the jab was beneath his station. “I hope all is well.”
“Could be better, but such is the life of a pirate.”
The marshal’s face reddened. The very man he was meant to protect Nippon One and its cargo ships from was on a direct call with the emperor. It was unheard of. Giving someone like Alejandro such legitimacy was beyond him. But Yukito didn’t seem to care. At the moment, such legitimacy was an absolute necessity.
“Where are you and the Barbarys these days?” Marie listened to Yukito with a raised eyebrow. His ties with pirates were nothing new for her – he’d clued her in on his relationship with them in the lead up to securing the royal posts. But today was the first time she’d witnessed him interact with them directly.
“Our ships float in the Pacific, the waters that are left of it that can be sailed. And guess what? Not a single damn fog in sight. Makes me wonder why you Nips didn’t try building a floating city or something like that out here. Would have saved you a whole lotta trouble.” He laughed loud again as the sound of waves crashing against his ship’s hull surrounded his voice.
“A fog will show up soon enough,” Yukito said.
“Yeah, true. It will.” Alejandro’s voice lowered. “This ain’t no paradise. There’s a film of old plastic floating all over the place. Islands of century-old plastic. Some even have permanent colonies of gulls.”
“All very fascinating, but let’s cut the nature talk, shall we?” Yukito fixed his black tie. “I need a favor.”
“Ah, yes – I knew
you didn’t call to check on my health,” the pirate said. “A favor? I didn’t realize I owed you one.”
“Oh yes, you do. Without me you wouldn’t have gotten your hands on the Martians’ 1.V10.”
A gasp left Gensui-Rikugun-Taishō’s lips at the revelation. Yukito acknowledged it with a boyish jeer.
“You mean the 1.V10 that Martian bitch stole from us?” Alejandro spat back. “Some gift you gave.”
“Yeah, look that wasn’t my fault. How you let Alice steal it from under your nose is beyond me. But here’s your chance to get back at her, and possibly get that beautiful spacecraft back, too.”
There was silence on the line. It seemed to stretch for an eternity. Yukito tapped the desk with his gun’s magazine every so often. A twitch of the eye gave away his impatience.
“I know what you’re asking,” the pirate finally said. “What kind of help am I going to get from you if I attack them?”
“Oh, you already have received help from me. My army attacked them, and while they didn’t destroy the red demons, they certainly crippled them,” Yukito lied. Anything to get his way.
More silence followed. Alejandro appeared to be thinking things through.
“Well?” Yukito pressed.
“Fine, I’ll attack those dirty Martians. If it’s a favor I owe, then it’s a favor I’ll return.”
“Excellent – you keep playing your cards right and I’ll give you a percentage of my annual euphoria profits.” Yukito wasn’t above dangling shiny objects. If the pirates ended up on his payroll, he could have a counterbalance to the army. Marie smiled at his guile.
Alejandro grunted. “Fine. I’ll corral the men… your grandness.” He let loose another uproarious laugh before ending the call.
Yukito leaned back with a self-satisfied smile. Gensui-Rikugun-Taishō didn’t mirror it. With face inflamed, the marshal might as well have had smoke shooting out the ears.
“This is unacceptable, my emperor,” he spurted. “Having ties with the pirates, helping them… all of this goes against tradition. Your father would have never allowed this.”
“My father is dead,” Yukito shot back. “He was killed by the Sydneysiders. The same Sydneysiders upon whom you couldn’t exact revenge.”
The marshal’s face showed that the words cut.
“Now, since you cannot do the job I asked of you, perhaps you can sort out this other thing.” Yukito pushed up his spectacles. “While the pirates launch their attack and keep Port Sydney occupied, I want you to cut off the Sydneysiders’ lifelines.”
The marshal’s brow crunched.
“I want you to capture as many of their solar satellites as possible. You know, the ones by Mercury. And I also want you to deny them access to Earth’s water. Set up a blockade.”
“What?” The marshal’s eyes were wide. “You want the Nipponese army to do the work of mere pirates?”
“I want you to do as you’re told, old man.” Yukito sneered. “You are dismissed.”
Gensui-Rikugun-Taishō clenched his jaw as if to hold back words. He turned to depart, and Yukito added, “And don’t forget to drag away your little friend’s body.”
The marshal’s shoulders drooped in resignation. He carried out his subordinate’s corpse, helped by the other long faced military man. As their uniforms disappeared into the hallway, just outside the door, Marie stood with a chuckle. “I love how you wield your stick, Yuki. Put them in their place.”
She prepared to leave for the bedroom when he stopped her. “I have an ask of you as well, my dear.” The business tone hadn’t dissipated. If anything, it was sharper.
Marie turned with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about Reo’s escape.” Yukito said, his eyes roaming the desk as if some movie played across its surface. The man appeared to host thousands of contemplations at once like a computer.
“Yes, Bastien continues to be a nuisance.” Marie tilted her head with tongue pressed into the cheek. Where was he going with this?
“My army has failed me,” he said. “And so has my police force. While I can entrust the job of my army with the pirates and hope for a better outcome, there’s no one better to entrust the job of the police with than…” His words trailed into momentary silence. “You.”
Marie locked eyes with his. A knot tightened in her stomach.
“Are you really asking me, your wife, the empress of this city, to go hunting for some fugitives? Yuki… I’m shocked.” She crossed her arms.
“My desert storm.” Yukito walked to her – a black suited negotiator. “I need you on this. I can’t trust anyone else, and I’ve got a lot on my plate already.”
“Why me, though?” Marie shrunk into herself.
“Because you know what it takes to seek out and eliminate undesired elements from a city,” he answered. “You ran your own city for a decade. My police force will respect that.”
Being a queen who ran a city was one thing – there were guards at her disposal to do the dirty work, like Hafiz. Running a police force herself was a whole different undertaking, especially as a gaijin. There were loyalists to Reo still on the force, surely. There had to be. Marie swallowed hard. It was a difficult ask, one that came with dangers. Would I be able to trust the force once we close in on Reo? Would they rebel against me?
“I don’t know.” She turned away, all the while caressing the goosebumps on her arms. Was it getting colder?
“You can get back at Bastien for all that he’s done to you.” Yukito almost hissed. “The betrayal with Belle, the assassination attempt, all of it. This can be your chance to make him die a dog’s death.”
It sounded enticing, but there was still danger. Real danger. Why would Yuki put her in such danger knowingly? He still loved her, after all – right?
“With the entire police force under your command, you could accomplish that – I have no doubt,” he continued. “And with Reo taken out, you’d be toast of the town. The talk of the ball.” He held her from behind, his sinewy frame pressed into her petite, curvy form.
I could be toast of the town or I could be toast. Marie frowned. She took a deep breath. Men always wanted things from her.
“You… you love me, right?” she asked. Doubt stared through her veil of confidence.
“Of course.” He kissed her head. There was something mechanical about it all.
“Fine, Yuki.” She wanted to object, to say her position was above such dangerous tasks, but there was no leverage. He was emperor after all, and the police and the army answered to him, not her. Despite all the luxury she’d been given, Marie was still a prisoner. There was a cost to living like a goddess after all.
CHAPTER 7: ALICE
Alice blinked away tears. The Martian Outback stretched to the horizon and displayed more than burnt sienna tones, defunct biodomes, and long-dead trees. A lifetime’s worth of memories played across it. One of them involved Bastien. A younger Alice, no more than twenty and a captain at the time, strolled across the scenery in a fitted red surface suit, her breath fogging the helmet’s glass pane. Her right shoulder brushed up against a similarly dressed Bastien. Their conversation was fresh in her memory, even after all these years.
“Isn’t it beautiful out here?” she had asked into her communication line.
“It could be. Perhaps… one day.”
Alice turned to Bastien. “You don’t seem yourself today. Is there something on your mind?” The sparkle in his yellow eyes was absent. Something was amiss.
“Yes, actually. Alice, you know how much I admire you, right?”
She nodded, locking eyes with him.
“But… we… you see,” Bastien struggled. “What happened after that dogfight with the pirate ship… that… that… can’t happen again.”
The words felt like a blow to the stomach. Alice nearly reeled.
“Our positions won’t allow it,” Bastien said, stealing his stare away from hers.
“Why not?”
�
��Why not?” Bastien sighed. “Because a relationship between us will only get in the way of our duties.”
Alice didn’t respond. She chewed her bottom lip and glanced about as if trying to find a more satisfying response hidden somewhere in the scenery.
“It has absolutely nothing to do with you,” Bastien said, “or what you are.” He cringed as soon as the words had slipped his tongue.
“What I am?” Alice’s face crunched. “Well, that’s very considerate of you. The flesh and blood human not disgusted by the synthetic one. How sweet.”
As she turned to walk away, Bastien said, “You misunderstand me.”
Alice halted and a cloud of orange danced about her red sturdy boots. Without turning to face Bastien, she asked, “The whole ‘a relationship between us will get in the way’ thing… is that you talking or… him?”
“Him? Who, Crone?” Bastien scoffed. “No, it’s me.”
Alice’s head hung. “Might have been better to hear they were his words.” She took a few more steps and Bastien followed. She said, “Don’t come after me, please.”
“Alice, look – if you think about it you’ll agree. Things will get messy if we continue our relationship. You’re dedicated to your work, as am I, and—”
“You don’t think I know all that?”
Bastien kept quiet.
“I figured we could get through the stress better together. To support one another. And here, you thought I was a burden all along.”
“That’s not true, I just—”
“Tell me something, Bastien – would you have ended this if I hadn’t been synthetic? If I hadn’t been… what do my peers call me, again? Oh, yes – Frankenstein’s Monster.”
“This has nothing to do with that, Alice.” Bastien took a step forward, his eyes searching the ground as if for the right words. “I, an orphaned Parisian, have no right to judge anyone, no matter their origin. But I do have the right to call out something that is inappropriate. As an ethical, righteous officer it is my duty.”
“Sure.” Alice’s back straightened and her nose crinkled. “Well, you could have done that before you stole my virginity – where were your ethics and your righteousness then? You’re no different than the other humans using me.” She stormed away, leaving a cloud of Martian dust in her wake.
