Empire of the One (Wine of the Gods Book 14)
Page 18
Izzo could feel the truth of most of that, the slight regretful shading of "repudiating their pasts."
"Genetic irregularities are uncommon, but hardly unheard of." Urfa prompted him.
Endi's mouth firmed up. So did that shield of his. "Families sentencing their children to life in a virtual prison isn't unheard of, either."
Urfa studied the man. No doubt he was picking up the same mental clues Izzo was sensing. Oblique referral. Stubborn refusal to directly admit to anything.
"And can you assure me that you are not smuggling forged identification cards?"
Izzo picked up the young man’s surprise. And his truthfulness, in answering.
"I am not smuggling anything. You can believe me or not, I cannot prove a negative."
"Indeed. Politics. You've always dodged any public position."
"I don't espouse a popular position, and prefer to not get into discussions at all, because I argue with everyone." Endi smiled faintly. "I suppose I'm something of an isolationist, as I think we ought to not have anything to do with already inhabited worlds. Well, trade, perhaps. But we ought to only colonize empty worlds."
"What is your opinion of Earth, Granite Peak and Target Forty-two?"
"That's tough, even though I think we should have only farmed Granite Peak short term, through the crisis, and relocated after we found empty worlds. At this point we need to relocate it, find out what happened to our people and then decide what to do. We don't want to appear weak in front of Earth. I do understand that, and that my favorite solution—everyone withdraw—won't happen. The other place—this Target Forty-two—fighting over it is insane. We have no colonists there to protect. Instead of the thin population of nomads on Granite Peak, there's half a billion people at Late Medieval to Early Industrial Age level. We won't be able to ignore them as we fight whatever forces the Earth has shifted there. Maybe we should just find some Anti-Earth insurgents and arm them. But no matter what, it isn't our World—it's theirs."
Anger all over that declaration. He sympathizes with the Natives because he knows what it feels like to be powerless and at the mercy of the authorities. Treated like a permanent child. Locked up.
Urfa leaned back and nodded. "I see. Will you continue to say nothing political in public, or even in private, as it might well escape and get to the media?"
"My history is not good on the matter of following the philosophy of my employer. While I am employed by the President, I will attempt to avoid politics. And no more sexy photos, although the use of the existing ones is out of my hands. And bound to come up."
"Yes. You’re not the sort of person we usually hire. The presidential staff position of short term tutor has been slightly redefined for your sake. We are offering two month's employment at two thousand per week. You will be staying in the Versalle barracks, working Thursdays through Mondays, with Tuesdays and Wednesdays off. Hours dependent upon Paer's school work and the cooperation of the weather. Do you accept the position?"
"I do." Relief in his tone and aura. He hadn't been sure of getting the position.
Some techs took his palm and retina scans, and a security pass was issued, in the form of a chip injected just under the skin of his shoulder.
Izzo offered him a ride out to Versalle.
"I've never met the President, barely know Princess Paer, for that matter." Endi finally sounded nervous. He grabbed the handle of his luggage and swung the saddle up to rest on his shoulder.
Izzo nodded. "I just met the President a few months ago. Nice guy, or at any rate he knows how to talk to people."
"Political necessity, I suppose. How long is he going to stay in office?"
"Twenty years is average. Orde's only been in eight months, but he's popular enough to hang on for another twenty or thirty."
Endi looked at him in surprise. "I thought he'd already been in power that long."
Izzo choked. "Where were you during the last election? They damn near came to a duel, the insults flying between the two Ordes? Orde Withione Atlas Algeria verses Orde Withione Tarsus Ottoman. The Isolationists had a weak candidate and when the scandal about Target Forty-two broke, this Orde just wiped the deck with both of the other candidates."
"Oh. Huh. I had some really difficult personal issues, just then. I heard 'President Orde' and assumed he'd been reelected again."
"No. It's these damned stupid Oner letter designations. The old Orde was the leader of the War party, this one is a Modernist."
"You don't approve?"
"I don't know. I don't like the way the Earth has gotten away with stealing a colony world, and now has apparently all but taken a target world as well." He closed the boot on Endi's luggage and tack, and dropped into the driver's seat.
Endi slipped into the passenger side. "Not that I've been following the news lately. But I always assumed it was filtered and what was actually happening probably bore a pretty weak resemblance to the news reports."
"That's guaranteed. But as I climb the ladder of power, I keep finding out more, and it's not better. Mind you, neither world is any of my business. But the people whose business it is aren't smug and happy. The last Exterior Director stressed himself into early retirement."
"Hmm. Probably nothing compared to the state of the natives of both worlds, trampled underfoot like so much garbage as two so-called superior worlds fight over who gets to steal their home out from under them."
Izzo stalled the car. Stared at Endi. "Damn. You really need to not say things like that in public. You'd be exposing yourself to all manner of harassment."
"Along with exposing my complete ignorance? Yes, I'll be quiet. I've found I gather a lot fewer bruises just avoiding politics altogether. I guess I picked up sympathy for the Little Guy somewhere along the line." He leaned back comfortably and stayed quiet for the rest of the drive.
***
Government House, the presidential palace, was a huge complex in the center of the city. The presidential country place, called Versalle, was an order of magnitude smaller, as far as buildings were concerned, but covered more ground and abutted the national forest that covered the ruins of Old Paris. A war over fifteen hundred years ago had destroyed nearly every large city on the planet, and killed an estimated seventy-five percent of the population. The three centers of power that arose after that—the Islamic Union, China and the Federation of South America—had been united forcibly in the war led by the Prophets. The final seat of government had been placed outside all their traditional borders to avoid favoritism. The new Paris was well north of the ruins of the old Paris which had reverted to forest in the intervening centuries. Even a millennia later the ruins were still a mostly wild place. Bulldozed roads were used by hikers and equestrians, and numerous camping areas were scattered through the forest. Ruined walls, and cracked roads were everywhere, along with rumors of golden statues, hidden caches of treasures, and catacombs full of bones.
In contrast, the presidential country residence was landscaped, mowed, trimmed and groomed. Lawns, sanded trails, two covered arenas. The collection of huge barns that housed the ceremonial Black Horse Company also housed the family riding and show horses. A deluxe barracks housed the staff and the guards that constituted the greater part of the Presidential Directorate.
Xiat watched as Izzo’s car slid to a halt between the barracks and the barns.
"I can’t believe they hired that womanizing . . ." The horsemaster was career military, and looked Dewulfe over with disapproval as he approached. "I'm Major Eppa. Madam Chin has taken the majority of her students to Italy for the show season. While she is gone, you will be Princess Paer's personal trainer. But don't think you won't be watched like a hawk."
Endi nodded, his eyes drifting in her direction.
"I’m Xiat Withione, part of Princess Paer’s regular guard detachment."
"Right. I’ve seen you around at shows. Now could I get a tour of the facilities, and look over the horses? Has Paer got a second string already? And how is Crys
tal healing? And Paer, for that matter." He split a glance between her and Eppa.
Eppa scowled. "Come out to the barn."
The tour stalled out at Crystal's stall. Endi let himself in and stroked the mare's dry coat, ran a hand down the injured leg. "She needs to be off the painkillers, and spend more time outside."
"We can't let her walk on all those little fractures, and the tendon needs a lot more time to heal, if it's going to."
"If she can feel the pain she'll not overdo anything. The sunshine and slow movement around a small paddock will be good for her. Withdraw the painkillers gradually, and I'll see how she behaves through the week." Dewulfe’s long fingers massaged the ankle and lower leg as best he could through the wraps, working upward. "You'll be fine, Crystal." He put her hoof down gently and let himself back out. "She’s healing slowly, mostly because of fluid building up in the hoof and ankle, interfering with the blood circulation. She needs to move around."
The Major harrumphed and led him off to meet the rest of the family's horses. From Paer's fat pony gelding, out-grown a few years ago, to the collection of well trained 'safe for guests' horses, they were an attractive bunch. A smaller group of well conditioned and less mild tempered beasts were the mounts for Paer's guards.
"They can just barely keep up with the girl when she takes to the trails." The Major scowled at Endi. "I suppose you'll need to ride one of them out with her as well. Mind, you will never be alone with her. There will always be guards."
Xiat nodded as they both looked her direction. "I usually ride out with Paer. Rael isn’t as experienced a rider, but she’s often along as well."
A row of empty stalls belonged to the horses Madam Chin had in Italy, with her other clients. "We decided it would be less of a security problem to have them here, rather than trying to guard Paer at a public stable."
And further down the barn, the black horses.
"The Black Horse Company is not just ceremonial, they are about half of the Palace guards. Both mounted and on foot."
Xiat nodded. "Another third is the princesses, and the remaining people work directly under Urfa. They’re generally former Interior or Exterior Directorate personnel, and expert collectors of intelligence. Urfa inherited most of them from his predecessor."
Dewulfe looked surprised. "That must be awkward. From what I’ve heard, most of the interior intel is the various political parties spying on each other."
"Indeed. And we really hope they all stick to just collecting intelligence."
The man looked amused. "Good thing the One don’t get ulcers."
Eppa snorted. "Indeed. Now, the barracks. Those two wings are the Black Horse Regiment, both floors. That one is the Princesses, both floors. Men go there strictly by invitation. The third wing, the Oner Directorate personnel are up there, the ground floor is for the grooms and horseboys. The central mess, gym and media areas are open to all." Eppa ignored a few scowls aimed Dewulfe’s direction from the other side of the central entry. "You, for lack of room to put you elsewhere, have been assigned an empty room in the directorate wing."
Dewulfe drifted aside to look in the gym.
"The regiment runs five kilometers every morning, then works out. Likewise most of the Princesses and even a few of the intel people."
"Sounds good. May I join you?" Dewulfe eyed the Major, who looked him over and nodded his approval.
Xiat spotted Idlo, Ahba and Rael eyeing them.
Rael had more than her usual bounce as she crossed the room. Both in her stride and in her glow. How can she project that much sheer joy? And I swear it's not faked. No wonder she attracts so many men. Happiness is apparently irresistible.
"Hi. I’m Rael."
Dewulfe froze for a second, then slowly exhaled. He eased back half a step and the handshake happened with a great deal of empty air between them. The man looked bedazzled, as expected, but his reaction was increased wariness. His faint emotional leakage had shut down altogether.
He didn't look, magically, like even a Halfer. Xiat wasn't even sure he'd register as "alive" if she closed her eyes. Poleaxed by a Princess? C'mon, Rael's barely trying.
Rael cocked her head and looked thoughtful. "This is Idlo Withione Alcairo and Ahba Withone Black Point. I expect we’ll be seeing a lot of each other."
Idlo and Ahba, typical snobs, didn’t reach out for a handshake. Dewulfe eyed them in turn and Xiat would have sworn he looked amused. "Pleasure's all mine." His shields softened a bit; apparently he'd recovered from meeting Rael.
I think I've been slighted. I didn't faze him at all.
Idlo and Ahba’s noses weren’t the only ones that elevated at the lack of subservience. Rael’s mouth twitched, then she let the grin out. "Oh you are going to be fun to have around."
As the Major handed over a door key, Xiat faded back and intercepted Izzo as he walked in with a suitcase and saddle, presumably Dewulfe’s.
"Do you think he’s going to be fun?"
Izzo met her eyes. "I think I’m going to dig deeper into his background. He’s . . . anomalous."
Hmm. So they may not be working together? Or is the distrust a show to make us think they aren't working together?
***
As ordered, the techs at Interior had nabbed the contents and programming of every electronic gadget Dewulfe had had in his luggage.
Izzo had checked the contents of Endi's minicomp. "His reading is interesting. Especially all the history and biography books. A few myths and legends. Stuff on the Prophets, modern re-analyses and so forth. He bought that new book on the scandal, the military defeat two years ago, but he bought it two days ago and hasn't opened it yet. This is a new comp, everything new since he bought it . . . about six months ago, now. He didn't transfer anything from anywhere else. His contact list consists of those people at the Knickknack shop, his former boss, and three other employees. Period. There's nothing to trace."
"Huh. How many books, and can you tell if any of them have been read?" Xiat sounded abstracted. He must have called at a bad time.
"All but the newest. He's been buying steadily and reading regularly. Forty-two books. And the heavy-duty history books get referred back to regularly, with dates matching the biographies. He's read three bios on the former President Orde, but none written recently enough to cover the scandal or the election going down the drain. I wonder what he was doing that he never heard about any of it?"
"Escaping with his family and friends from a custodial situation? We all hear the horror stories about the ones that are virtual prisons for children who would embarrass their parents."
"Yeah. But . . . he really doesn't seem limited in any way. Expert with horses and healing spells, apparently."
"Definitely, and I don't believe the DNA results. I got a good look at what he was doing with Crystal. The man's powerful. I don't understand what he's hiding, or why." She sighed. "Or how. Military Intel? Political party ploy? Just as well he's just a temporary coach. He won't be around long enough for us to really need to dissect him. Or at any rate, he'll be away from the President's daughter before we need to."
"Yeah. And I'm not finding any connection with the forged IDs, other than his possession of one. Maybe he really is what he looks like."
***
:: They didn't see the dimensional bubbles. And yeah, they are powerful, magically, but they don't use it like we do. All the plumbing here is ordinary. No one way pipes, no hot pipes. No charms on the windows for heating or cooling rooms. There's a fair amount of testing of mental shields, which I played oblivious to. Schoolboy stuff. ::
:: Good. Get the background, and access to places and people. :: Este glanced over his shoulder. No winos hanging around waiting to be fed, today. Kail better hurry back, before the winos desert us, or turn us into the authorities. No fair, the strongest witch also being the best cook!
:: Oh. These names may be tripping us up. Grab some recent history. Apparently there have been two "President Ordes" in a row. Is this one the one who o
rdered the attack, or was it the previous one? I didn't pry, didn't want to expose my ignorance, but I think this this one is so new he's innocent. ::
:: Oh. Old Gods! This world ought to come with an instruction manual. ::
:: If it did, it would probably be as useful as that computer's manual was. ::
Este wondered how to give a finger, mentally. And received a mental laugh.
Chapter Twenty-two
Paris, European Region
8 Nicholas 1396
Xiat spotted Endi Dewulfe out on the lawn with Raccio, Paer's almost retired pony. The gelding was completely white with age, and getting head rubs from two sides.
Paer was frowning at Endi as she scratched. "Whatever for?"
"Because you need to practice a few things before getting back to your ordinary routine."
The frown slid into a scowl.
"So hop on. You don't need saddle or bridle for this."
Xiat circled around and nodded to Rael. :: How's the first lesson going? ::
:: Not well. She hasn't ridden since the accident, has she? ::
Xiat shook her head. ::And she didn't dress for riding today, did she?:: She eyed Paer. The girl was a bit pale. Tense.
"I suppose, you being a princess and all, you know these fancy dance leaps? You could, you know, vault up or plea or something."
Paer glowered. "Plee-ay. Plie. It's not a jump." Her mouth firmed. She set her hands on the pony's withers and swung a leg over, hopping just a bit. Her feet hung about six inches off the ground.
"Excellent. Now fall off."
"What!"
"Hey, it's nice soft grass. Two hands on the mane, swing over, land on both feet and step back."
Paer scowled, swung off and stepped back. She was pale.
Endi grinned. "Now get back on. This time when you fall off, throw your hands in the air and sit down. Be dramatic about it, have a bit of fun."