by S. K. Holder
‘I’m the only one who knows how to operate the apparatus. Arom is-was a great advocate of my work. He wanted to give his life to science−’ He paused to snap at his assistant who had gathered Arom’s great arm in her hands and continued to prod it for a pulse. ‘Cover him up, Emphera!’
Emphera closed the life-chamber and threw a metallic sheet over it to hide Arom’s body.
‘Has he family here?’ asked Onas, swirling his tongue around his mouth to suck up the last remnants of the sweet pastry he had just consumed. He rubbed his hands on a napkin.
How would I blazing well know? ‘No. He came alone,’ said Skelos. He thought it was safe to assume this since he had not thought to ask Arom anything more about his family. Arom had been drunk when Skelos had met with him. Now he came to think of it, Arom had always been drunk − and angry. Skelos didn’t have a clue what had spurred his anger. He couldn’t have cared less. Arom knew what he was doing when he gave his consent.
One of the scientists who had disappeared in the restroom before his demonstration reached its horrendous climax, burst through the doors, his lab coat wafting around him. ‘I have received word that a fleet of Thruens have arrived from Uthren in search of their commander-in-chief, an Arom Tu’ilki. He’s missing without leave.’ The scientist pointed to the life-chamber. ‘They’ll want an explanation.’
Skelos swallowed. Commander-in-Chief Arom had told him he was a bounty hunter. ‘He lied to me,’ he muttered. Not that it mattered now.
His audience filed from the room, many with their glasses in their hands, Osaphar included. A few spared him an accusatory glance; the majority didn’t. The show was over, and they were moving on to the next.
Skelos gave the Chief Secretary and the vice-chancellor one final flame-faced bow.
‘Let’s hope his signature isn’t forged Dr Dorm,’ said Kerss as she rose from her chair, ‘or we cannot offer you a shield to hide behind. Not that you deserve it after this farce.’
Darlis Sajoyagh addressed Kerss as she stepped from the theatre seats. ‘See that all research in this facility is suspended pending an enquiry, and also see to it that the Thruen’s family are informed of their loss. We won’t be using any of our tech to revive him.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Skelos lay in bed trying to get the day’s failings out of his mind. He had briefly drifted off to sleep when a Thruen warrior leaped out of nowhere with the biggest blade he had ever seen.
He rolled onto the floor and scuttled under the bed. He heard the ring of the blade. He heard the Thruen pad across the floor, snorting through his nose and making guttural sounds of rage. The blade slashed the bed’s gossamer trim. Skelos drew his knees up to his chest, heart pounding, hands clutched to his chest as if in prayer. He breathed through his nose.
Blocked by a colossal trunk stored at the top of the bed, he could go no further. He was certain that his Thruen assassin had honed and polished the blade solely for the purpose of his execution. He also suspected the assassin performed some atrocious and pointless ritual over the weapon, one that would aid in detaching his head from his body. I wager he has a bag to put it in.
He heard the door open. The light in the room came on. He heard his niece’s voice.
‘What are you doing?’
The Thruen stood up, breathing heavily. He remained at the foot of the bed. He had not come to murder a child, but Skelos feared he would take her captive in order to coax him out of his hiding place.
‘Run Amelia,’ he hissed. ‘By-the-maker’s-will, run!’ The girl was too quick to outrun even the fastest Thruen.
‘Is that you, Uncle?’ said Amelia. She lifted the gossamer and peered at him.
‘Tell him to come out,’ said the Thruen.
‘Come on,’ urged Amelia. ‘You have to. He won’t hurt us.’
Evidently, Amelia had not seen the blade.
The Thruen got over his shock of seeing Amelia. He ascertained that she was not a threat and dragged Skelos from under the bed by his feet. ‘You will die for what you have done. I know where to strike to ensure your instant death.’
Skelos wriggled and screeched. He imagined where the blade might strike first: his head.
Amelia squealed and ran.
‘It was an accident,’ he croaked. ‘And he gave his consent. I have proof−’ He wanted to say more, but the blade went into his back. He felt his flesh tear. He screamed and gurgled blue blood before passing out.
~
He woke in Nylthia’s colossal bed surrounded by a sea of clothes. He felt as if he was drowning in them. He sat up and flung back the covers. He ran his hands across his back. The wound had healed. He climbed out of bed, kicking away the clothes that had tumbled to the floor when he had flung the covers away. He stretched his arms over his head. The sense of shameful failure returned. The attempt on his life paled in comparison to his catastrophic demonstration. He needed to redeem himself quickly if he wished to regain the respect and the backing of the Establishment.
Nylthia stood to one side of the bed. She had a silver gown draped over her arm. She pursed her lips and glared at him.
‘Where’s Amelia?’ he asked.
‘In her room.’
‘And the Thruen?’
‘Dead. He was Arom’s cousin. Arom’s family maintain that they didn’t order the attack. They said he was out of his mind with grief. They send their apologies. I had the sentinels take the body away.’
Skelos nodded. ‘Tell them I accept their apology and would appreciate it if you would arrange for the Planetary Data Protection Committee to increase the security around the perimeter of our home with cyborg sentinels and not the Citizen kind.’
‘I shall have to move,’ said Nylthia, ignoring his request.
‘What are you talking about? Move where? Our home is here. The danger has passed. It was a solitary attack.’
‘The failed attempt on your life attack has nothing to do with it. I’m sure it will be one of many. Your demonstration has caused me rethink our relationship. My association with you after that,’ she shuddered, ‘fiasco could call into question my ministerial role.’
‘You’re my wife.’
She grimaced. ‘A loose term. This is a business partnership. It always has been. What if the Parliamentary Elite think I’m involved in this Mind Work of yours. I can’t have you dragging down my political career. Do you know how many years it has taken me to get this far? How many sacrifices I’ve had to make?’
‘Yes. You remind me of them constantly. But you’re my wife. We stand together. You’re the most important thing, woman, in the world to me.’
‘Enough of your waspish chatter. Nobody is listening and nobody cares. If you want to salvage your reputation, you’ll need to see to it that your family make recompense for your disgrace in some other way. I can’t do this.’
She started throwing her garments into the trunk that had been sitting under Skelos’s own bed some hours ago. She called for her handmaiden, Chaijin. The handmaiden failed to heed her call. ‘Where are the staff when you need them?’
One of her silk gowns hit him in the face. ‘You can’t leave me,’ said Skelos, catching the garment in one hand and flinging onto the bed. ‘I lo-love you.’ He hadn’t said it for a while, and it didn’t slip from his tongue as easily as it should have. But he meant it. She was his first and only love. And he didn’t have the resourcefulness to find it again, not in this era.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. We haven’t shared a bed in years. You love my status and what I can do for you. Reserve your love for Amelia and Amelia alone. I can’t do any more for you Skelos. With the exception of our blood, our credibility was the only thing we had in common. I have to think about myself in these times.’ She paused. ‘If you want me to take Amelia for a while until you get yourself settled, I-I can. I’m going to my mother’s. She can take care of her.’
‘Amelia stays with me.’ Skelos sunk onto the bed. He watched her fold her gowns in half and lay them in the
trunk, her spine rigid, her face an unreadable mask. ‘With your connections, you could have me reinstated. So why haven’t you seen to it?’
Nylthia dispensed with folding her gowns and began tossing them into the voluminous trunk, her cheeks flaming blue. ‘You know there are Citizens out there who think you’re insane and then – well to have brought in a Thruen – and a high-ranking one at that. You may as well have brought in an Outsider, contaminate us all. You can’t possibly believe that Thruens and Citizens have the same minds, have the same thoughts. They’re barbaric.’
‘You’re a terrible liar, Nylthia. You backed me on this. You gave me your full support.’
‘I didn’t fully understand your work Skelos. I never have.’ She stopped packing and glared at him. ‘You assured me this work was connected to neurorobotics. Either it is or it isn’t.’
Skelos didn’t answer. He ran one of his Nylthia’s scarves’ through his fingers. He hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her the truth. He had been deliberately vague about the details of his Mind Work. The only Citizen who knew the full extent of his research was Denlor.
‘I thought as much,’ she said, whipping the scarf from his hand and tossing it into a small travel case. ‘Your experiments are pointless. They don’t work and once more no one cares to look inside someone’s mind. Who knows what they will find.’ She slammed the smallest trunk shut. ‘I have to think about rebuilding my reputation. You should do the same. And when you’re done then perhaps we can reunite. If it were the other way around, you would have left me. Don’t deny it.’
Skelos shrugged. He had no intention of denying it. He would have done the same if he were in Nylthia’s position. It was not easy to climb the rungs of power to the Parliamentary Elite. Once you were halfway up, there would be little point in coming back down.
But he thought she would have offered him her support as a friend, as a business partner. He felt she owed him that much. He sighed. He would have to meet with his family. His indiscretions would affect all of them in the long-term.
Amelia wandered into the room, twirling the ribbon in her hair. She wore a rich indigo dress, trimmed with gemstones. She also wore her favourite pair of jewelled slippers.
Nylthia clicked her teeth. ‘Move from the bed, child. Can’t you see I’m trying to pack.’
Amelia stepped away from the bed. ‘Are we taking a trip?’ she asked, her eyes glued to the packed trunk.
‘No, we are not taking a trip.’ Nylthia closed her eyes and mouthed something under her breath.
‘I’m afraid Nylthia is leaving us,’ said Skelos.
Amelia turned to her uncle. ‘May I have her room?’
CHAPTER FIVE
He was expelled from his Stores in front of Imbrecas and Osaphar, who once again accompanied the Parliamentary Elite members. Osaphar looked less hostile than the last time Skelos had seen him. His eyes were softer, and he offered him a rare smile. Under normal circumstances, Skelos would have greeted his invited guests with a smile, a cold, or hot beverage, and a tour.
Nervous with anticipation, he wrung his hands together. He had a large audience, many under his employment, more under the Parliamentary Elite. Kerss Nysen was among them. It didn’t look good. Still he had not expected to be evicted.
The Thruen’s signature had been exposed as genuine. Despite what the Thruens said, he was not at fault. He had made Arom aware of the risks before he had placed him in the life-chamber. This was a fuss about nothing. He expected the P.S.R.F.D to inspect his Stores for malpractice. And he had already seen to it that they would find nothing untoward. He knew how and when to clean up. You never knew who might drop in.
‘We must ask you to leave Skelos,’ said Kerss. ‘Your Stores have been reallocated.’
‘Reallocated?’ Skelos frowned. ‘All my work is here, and I’ve invested some of my own nano-credits in this facility. Under what law? By whose authority?’
‘The vice-chancellor,’ she replied. ‘Do you want to speak with his secretary? I can set up a comms link now if you wish?’
Skelos felt his cheeks colouring. ‘In front of my staff. Could you not have arranged a comms link in a more private setting?’
‘We’ve had some difficulty getting hold of you.’ She passed him a tablet. ‘The vice-chancellor’s signature.’
Skelos read the decree. The Stores were to be taken over by the Parliamentary Elite. He no longer had ownership of them. ‘There is no explanation as to why here.’
‘You know why. You have deviated from your work on neurorobotics. You and I both know your demonstration had nothing to do with robo-tech. The work you are undertaking is perilous.’
‘I have to leave now?’ he whispered. He knew it was too late to argue.
‘It would be best,’ she said. ‘You are still under investigation.’
Kerss left with the others.
Skelos stayed behind. Those who had gathered on the balcony stayed silent.
He shouted up to them. ‘Get back to work!’ Some drifted back to their labs; most remained where they were. His power over them had diminished. He had lost their respect.
Fully aware of the blue tinge on his cheeks brought about by the burdening embarrassment of being extracted from the building in which he devoted his work, he lowered his gaze and he filled up a crate with a number of his belongings. Only-the-Maker-knew what he was putting in it: empty containers, Oscilloscopes, bundles of wire, petri dishes. Things he no longer had any use for. But he thought if he kept himself busy, his audience would eventually disappear and so would the humiliation.
‘Have the rest of my research apparatus sent to my house,’ he told Imbrecas without looking at him. ‘I’ll give you a list.’
‘Now?’ said Imbrecas.
Skelos felt so light-headed, he thought he might faint. ‘No, when I get home. You may leave now.’
When he looked up, he found Osaphar watching him. Not again. Why must he always catch me at my worse?
Skelos barked at him. ‘Why are you still here?’
‘I did try to stop them. I want you to know that,’ said Osaphar. ‘You could appeal.’
The two of them were alone for the first time in years. Skelos recalled their childhood friendship. It was one of the happiest times in his life. When had other things got in the way? He sighed when they visited the Red Caves as children. That’s when everything changed, or at least, that’s when he did.
Skelos wanted to tell him to stop with the pretence. Of course, he could appeal, but no one would listen. Instead he said, ‘If that’s what you say, then that’s what I believe.’
‘I still don’t understand what you hoped to achieve. Nylthia was keen that I should attend.’
Skelos was surprised that Nylthia would have her hand in something so personal. ‘I thought you were there at the vice-chancellor’s invitation. I noticed that the two of you have become quite friendly.’
Osaphar gazed up at the balconies. ‘I want to talk with you in private.’
Skelos took him to his private room. The one in which he had kept the young Outsider.
‘What do you want to tell me?’ said Skelos, once the door had shut behind them.
‘I’m no friend of Darlis Sajoyagh,’ said Osaphar. ‘On the contrary, I believe he may be an enemy. Therefore, I think it wise that I keep him close.’
‘Then I admire you. If I kept all my enemies close, I’d choke them and I doubt if I’ll have any friends who will save me from the consequences of my actions.’ His tone was more cutting than he intended.
Osaphar moved closer to him. He dug his fingers into Skelos’s arm. ‘We’re in danger.’
Skelos retched free from him. ‘Don’t be so melodramatic.’
‘An assassin tried to kill me, not three nights ago. A Thruen. I killed him first.’
‘Oh, that danger,’ said Skelos, recounting his own near-death escape from the previous night. Were the Thruens so enraged over Arom’s death that they wanted to murder all who witnessed his de
monstration? It seemed an unlikely coincidence, but not an implausible one. Someone had attempted to take his life, not once, but twice if he counted the cyborg.
‘And the attempted murder weapon?’
‘A Tauk’lr blade.’
Tauk’lr blades were infused with poison, but not one strong enough to kill a Citizen; their cells regenerated too quickly. If the Thruen were a true assassin, he would have known this.
‘Perhaps he only meant to scare you. Do you know of anyone else who was present at my demonstration who this assassin attacked?’
‘What has an attempt on my life got to do with your demonstration?’ Osaphar placed a card, forged from titanium alloy, into Skelos’s hand.
It was a Datas card, held by the members of the Parliamentary Elite. ‘He had this on him.’
‘Do you know whose it is?’ Skelos’s thoughts flew to Nylthia before he could stop them. Stalking the room, his arms folded. The humiliation had left him. He was over it. Now I think of it, I shall appeal. ‘I hope you’re not suggesting it was Nylthia.’ He was eager to dispense with any impending suggestions that she was involved. Although the likelihood of it being Nylthia was absurd. She had always held a fondness for Osaphar and the entire House of Kulane.
‘I think it has something to do with Eron. About what he entrusted to us.’
Skelos laughed. His friendship with the former Ruling Chancellor of Odisiris had ended many years before his death. ‘He never entrusted me with anything. By the Palm-of-My-Maker, it’s preposterous. You have been−’
‘What about the tablet he gave you? The one he gave to each of us and told us never to lose sight of.’
Skelos had lost sight of his when he threw it out of an airship window and into the lake below. He wondered if it was still there intact. He had transferred the encrypted data on to a file and then forgotten all about it.
It wouldn’t have been the first time Eron had given him something for safe-keeping that turned out to be inconsequential drivel. He had given him the tablet when he was thirteen-years old. Their friendship ended three years later, and Eron never asked for it back. Skelos couldn’t think why the Parliamentary Elite would be interested in the files after all these years.
