Imperial Masquerade (The Two Moons of Rehnor, Book 11)

by J. Naomi Ay

  Although the boys came to her on the pretense of asking for advice, Luci knew they were wondering if she would be willing to pay for the procedure, as they had no money of their own.

  All they really had was Luci, and unfortunately, Luci had no one to consult regarding this moral and physical dilemma. She certainly could finance the procedure, but what if one or both died? How would she ever live with herself after that, when she not only condoned it by made it possible? As strange as they were, they were her blood and her kin. When she looked at them, she saw both Berkan and her son, Marik in their faces.

  It was times like these that Luci longed for her old friends. If Berkan was still around, she would have let him decide. Had Katie been here, they would have discussed it thoroughly for several days, and then, Katie would have asked the Emperor for his opinion. His Imperial Majesty would know what they ought to do. Frankly, he would know the result of their choice and presumably, advise them accordingly.

  On the other hand, he might have said that time had to happen in the way it was supposed to be even if that meant the procedure or life afterward would be a fail.

  “Pish tosh!” Luci declared along with a heavy sigh. All she wanted was for the boys to be happy.

  “I truly understand what it is like not to want to live in one's own skin,” Luci posted in the Footbook group, knowing that the girls would understand. “All my life I was too fat until now, when I am too thin. Is anyone ever really content just to be themselves?”

  “I always wanted triple breasts like an Andorian woman,” Nora replied.

  “Trust me, honey, two are plenty enough,” Delores said. “Try to find a well-fitting bra when you’ve got three oversized melons hanging from your chest.”

  “I don’t have two. I have four! Did you forget I’m from Altaris VI? You think you’ve got problems with just three? You should try having a mammogram on a double set. Zowie, that hurts more than you can imagine.”

  The conversation shifted to the necessity of multiple mammary glands and how many babies one would normally birth at a given time.

  “I don’t want to begin to think about any of that,” Luci mumbled, her days of birthing babies so distant, they were just a hazy memory of sleepless nights, messy diapers and abject poverty.

  Luci clicked out of the group to scan her news feed once again, her mind involuntarily diverted to her eldest and now, deceased son, Marik. The circumstances of his death were still a source of great mystery and heartache to Luci, so she made an effort not dwell on his absence, but rather, forced herself to recall those winsome days of his long past youth.

  Luci tried to remember her first pregnancy, the wonderment and joy that infused every day as Marik grew within her, announcing his presence and demands to be released nearly every night. It was during that time that Berkan's childhood friend, Senya made his existence known to them, placing them both on a course of travel that would radically change their lives.

  Luci reflected on the moment when she had first seen the venerated Senya and Katie in the flesh, sitting in the first pew of the old throne room at the Palace, waiting anxiously for the commencement of what was to become a horrific wedding nightmare. Marik was bouncing contentedly within her womb as the then Crown Prince deftly executed multiple individuals for seemingly breathing in his space. Everyone present, as well as those at home watching on the vid, collectively clutched their hearts in planet-wide panic.

  Chuckling a little at this, Luci's mind fast-forwarded three or so years to the halcyon days of her pregnancy with Petya. She recalled joining her new friend Katie at their estate on the Planet Rozari where the women became the best of friends. They would remain so throughout their lives despite many trials and tribulations. The first of which occurred shortly after Luci’s arrival, when Katie packed up and ran off into the night.

  This was just the first of many times when Katie fled from both Senya and her responsibilities, a pattern of behavior she would repeat over the years. The Emperor was then left home alone, taking out his frustrations on everyone around, including poor Berkan, his best and perhaps, only friend.

  Unwittingly, a thought popped in Luci’s head, which gave her a pregnant pause. What if this time, they had run away together?

  "Oh, that's silly, Luci," Luci scolded herself and brushed those errant thoughts aside. She directed her attention to the funny cat pictures in her news feed. Luci hated cats, especially pics of them saying clever things in chat bubbles. Nevertheless, she liked them, as maintaining her online friendships was important.

  Still, that nagging voice persisted. There were some things about Anne that just didn’t make sense. Out of nowhere, she had friended Luci and immediately, the two had bonded. In fact, they enjoyed each other’s virtual company so much so, they decided to join the gardening group together. It had been a godsend for Luci at the time, helping her cope with the loss of Berkan and her son, not to mention Katie, who one day just up and disappeared.

  “There is no way Anne could be Katie,” Luci assured herself. Katie’s feet would never have been so dirty. How many times had the two women sat for pedicures and facials together? Back then, Luci had known Katie’s feet almost as well as her own.

  On the other hand, Katie always managed to chip her nails and her pedicures were forever needing touch-ups. Left to her own devices, Katie would gladly have abandoned all the primping and fussing to join the Emperor running around barefoot in the forest.

  “No, no, no!” Luci shouted aloud.

  “What is it, Mother Luci?” Marie poked her head in through the door. She had been passing through the hall on the way to her own room when she had thought herself summoned by Luci’s call.

  “Nothing, dear. Goodnight. Have a good rest. Sweet dreams.”

  “You too, Mother Luci.” Marie released a heavy sigh. What could be done about Luci’s internet addiction?

  In the meantime, a private message box had popped up right in the middle of Luci’s screen. Displayed in living color were Anne’s dirty, chipped toenails. The foot look so familiar, but was that because it was Anne’s, or did it resemble Katie’s?

  "Sorry, Luci!" Anne declared. "I haven't had any reception for several days. Harvey and I had to move around to the dark side of this moon to avoid a solar flare. We’re back now, and I’ve got WIFI again. Hooray! I’m so glad to be on the light side, out in the sun."

  "Oh, no worries," Luci quickly responded. "I imagine being in the dark all the time is quite unnerving."

  "Well, I can't say that I like it all that much, although it doesn’t bother Harvey. Light, dark, it's all the same to him.”

  “But, a solar flare must be frightening.”

  “Not at all. It’s really kind of neat. In fact, a few extra gamma rays floating around in the atmosphere seem to make Harvey feel much better. So what's this about Kiki and some sort of nuclear device?"

  Luci tried to explain the little bit she knew, brushing aside those nagging thoughts about Anne. Blessed Saint, if she had accused her and then it turned out Anne was merely Anne, Luci would have appeared a great fool.

  "And, since then, Kiki hasn't logged back in. We're all terribly worried about her, and not sure what we can possibly do."

  "Well, there's not a whole lot anyone can do. We don't really know her, do we? I mean, Kiki probably isn't her real name. She could be making everything up, and frankly, we have no clue what planet she’s from."

  "Her foot is green." Luci pointed out. “What planet would that be?”

  "Luminerians are green and have seven toes, but, the foot on her profile is not necessarily hers. How do you know that this foot is mine? Maybe, I have perfectly pedicured feet that are always bathed and moisturized? Or maybe, I’m really a Centipedean with six more?”

  Luci paused, her fingers hesitating above her keyboard in midair, desperate to type out, “Who are you really, Anne?”

  “Just kidding, Luci,” Anne replied. “That’s my foot in all its glory. What exactly do you think we should d
o about Kiki?”

  "If we were able to contact her somehow," Luci continued, uncertain if she was relieved or not, as the foot was not conclusive either way. “We need to ascertain if she is telling the truth, and if she is, I could make some calls. I do know some people who are in influential positions. We might be able to prevent this horrific event before it happens."

  Now, Anne's cursor paused for a moment, the foot wagging back and forth as if it were a tail.

  "Okay," she typed after a bit. "Let me do some checking. I'll talk to Harvey, and see what he thinks we ought to do."

  "Why? What does he know about these type of situations?"

  "You never know. He’s also very well connected. He tends to have a bead on everything that’s going on."

  Luci sat back in her chair and stared at the screen. She wondered if there was any way that Anne would send her a pic of Harvey’s foot.

  "Anne," she typed very slowly, and then, changed her mind. There was another way to skin a cat and a cowboy. "Will you ask Harvey what he thinks I ought to advise Ber-Kie about that Dome-ectomy procedure? If the boys go forward with it, will they survive?"

  For another long moment, Anne's cursor flashed. Finally, after what seemed like eons, Anne began typing again.

  "Sorry, Luci. I was ROFLMAO. You can't be serious. Dome-ectomy? What a hoot! Teenagers these days! Aren’t you glad we’re too old for that kind of nonsense? Listen, I've got to go now. Harvey's getting all irritable about something, and you never know what will happen when he gets mad. Probably with this terrible WIFI connection, he can't get reception of tonight's football game. For such a smart man, he's a total idiot when it comes to adjusting the vid antenna. He can never locate the ketchup in the fridge either, even when it's on the shelf right in front of his nose. LOL. Chat later, dear girlfriend. XXXOOO!"

  Chapter 16

  Miltan had spots all over her back. At night, she could feel them popping out of her skin. They were itchy too, so much so, she was always scratching. This meant she was constantly bleeding and oozing a smelly green pus.

  “Another bad night?” Puna asked, setting a cup of piping hot coffee on the corner of Miltan’s oversized Presidential desk.

  Puna hadn’t shared Miltan’s bed for several weeks, on account of Miltan, and her sores now made Puna nauseous. They also might be contagious, Puna had insisted, while scampering off to her own room. There, she soundly locked the door and hid beneath her blankets.

  Frankly, Puna despised her life and what it had become. She never imagined her greatest achievement would be to plan the destruction of their neighboring planet.

  Several years ago, as a student of Lumineria II’s most elite and prestigious university, Puna had been sitting in a lecture hall, completely enthralled, as she soaked up what was to become her new religion.

  “The Emperor is wrong,” the sociology professor had postulated to the applause of the students, who were far too young to know how life had been before.

  They had all been raised in a time of peace and prosperity, and all thought they were extraordinarily special. They believed that any hardships endured by previous generations where the result of their ancestors shortcomings.

  Puna and her classmates were naïve enough to trust the politicians, who promised unicorns and lollipops in every pot. It would be so much better if the government took care of all. That way, everyone would have a fairer allocation.

  “To each according to their needs,” Puna had cried at the rallies in the campus square. “The Emperor has too much. Let’s take him down.”

  Of course, Puna’s parents had always fed and kept her well. Since Lumineria joined the Empire, their standard of living had greatly increased. It was only because of their allowance, Puna didn’t have to work, but could spend all day protesting at her expensive private college.

  Puna conveniently overlooked the fact that her parents paid her tuition and living expenses, as well as everything else she desired. But, it was the others for whom Puna was so terribly concerned. It was the teeming masses less fortunate than herself.

  This was why Puna thought she believed in income redistribution. Let the wealthy and everyone, who had too much, share more as they didn’t need it all.

  Puna did all she could. She donated her extra cans of food, and also, her old clothes. Of course, she needed all her trust fund for herself.

  “I wish the Emperor would just die.” The young man sitting next to Puna in sociology class remarked one day when the professor had taken a pause. He said it so loudly that all the students around them cheered. “There’s no need for us to be ruled by a Rehnorian. Sehron de Kudisha is the reason poor people exist. He’s an evil capitalist pig living in his magnificent palace while others starve on the street. We ought to rise up against him and overthrow his tyrannical reign.”

  “Yeah!” Someone yelled. “Let’s do it.”

  Puna believed she had fallen instantly in love. The young man, whose name she didn’t know, put into words the exact thoughts she had been thinking.

  Actually, she didn’t realize she had been living under tyranny, until her companion voiced her concerns, whereupon she recognized how exactly right he was. Everything bad in this world was the Emperor’s fault. This ran the gamut from poverty, pestilence, and disease to lousy shows on the vid and no good movies to watch.

  If there was nothing to do on Saturday night, this was obviously a result of oppressive Imperial control, which required one to work in order to acquire money to spend.

  That poor grade Puna had received on last week’s midterm exam was entirely unwarranted and unfair. It had to be the result of the Emperor’s educational standards and learning milestones which did not account for her diversity.

  Were the Emperor to cease to rule the Luminerian star, a new and enlightened age would begin. Convinced that life would be so much better for everyone, Puna was filled with hope for change. All the weakest members of society would be taken care of which, incidentally, included everyone, except the university students. It was these students who would be in charge, who would form the new intelligentsia.

  Before the lecture had finished, the young man had captured Puna’s heart and so the next few days were spent in his narrow dormitory bed. The fate of Lumineria and the rebirth of a new government order was thus postponed, while Puna and her new friend experienced free, uncommitted, and uninterrupted sexual bliss.

  The following weekend, Puna and her friend, of whose name she was never quite certain, met an important acquaintance of his in a coffee shop on the university campus. Over a tiny cup of bitter espresso, Puna was introduced to a dark and somewhat odd-looking fellow who could have been Rehnorian, or Human, or something else altogether.

  Rosso, as he introduced himself, was of an indeterminate age, having a copious amount of snow, white hair both atop his cranium and below his chin. His eyes were a piercing orange color, not quite red or brown, and although he spoke Luminerian with an accent, his pronunciation and syntax were amazingly good.

  "You are just the person I've been waiting for," he told Puna, grasping all three of her hands in the two of his. Surprisingly, his hands were cold, as frigid as if he had been holding a block of ice. Just touching them chilled her to the bone. "You can serve the people of Lumineria II, my dear. You can advent the change that you are hoping to see happen. Your name will go down in history as one who was instrumental in bringing it all about. I’m so pleased we’ve had this opportunity to meet today."

  Puna smiled and nodded, never bothering to ask about the specifics of said change. She was just happy to be part of Lumineria's future, at the advent of a new world order of peace and harmony, where everyone was equal to everyone else.

  So, Rosso sent Puna to assist Miltan, an up and coming politician with a taste for young girls in her bed. This was a sacrifice Puna made for the poor, underprivileged people, to which she considered her exorbitant salary a sufficient reward for doing it on their behalf.

  "Convince Miltan to do thi
s," Rosso would order. Or, "Forge her signature on that. She doesn't need to know about it, Puna dear."

  Some of these things Puna did weren't necessarily ethical in her mind. For instance, there was that time when she diverted tax revenues. They were supposed to fund some schools, but Rosso decided the money was better spent somewhere else. It wasn’t Puna’s place to understand the larger picture.

  "Are you sure we don't need judges?" Puna had once inquired of Miltan. "Isn't that the way the law is supposed to be decided?"

  "Rosso says they're all redundant." Miltan had shrugged, signing an order dismissing everyone from the bench. "The law says what it says and you shouldn't break it."

  "But who will decide when someone ought to go to prison?" Puna had protested. “Or, if paying a fine for an infraction is enough?”

  "Me, I guess," Miltan shrugged again, "My, you're looking awfully pretty today. Let me finish up this paperwork, and we'll go have some fun."

  Even though Puna despised the Emperor as much as Miltan and Rosso did, she often wondered why he never put a stop to Rosso's actions. Lumineria was under his protection, and they were bound to follow Imperial Law. Yet, the Emperor seemed to have forgotten they existed. His ambassadors came and went, and on the Imperial Birthday, they waved their flags, and took the day off to eat cake and ice cream. Other than that, Lumineria II was on its own, and Miltan had free reign to change the laws, and do whatever Rosso requested.

  Now, as Puna sipped her morning coffee in the Presidential office, she really wished the Emperor was still around. Miltan was far too cavalier about this war, which soon would commence and destroy their neighboring planet or at least, impair it significantly for the next few centuries. Someone ought to stop the impending insanity before it became totally out of hand. Too many would die, including Puna's brother.

  "Rosso wants the planet," Miltan reminded her assistant, while scratching at the pimples erupting on her neck. "He really doesn't care how many will be killed."