After Moses: Wormwood

by Michael F Kane

  “Anyone seen Abigail this morning?” he asked.

  Yvonne shrugged. “It’s barely nine o’clock.”

  “She usually gets up earlier when we’re going planetside.”

  “Dominic will probably keep us up late demanding stories,” Davey said. “She’ll be glad she slept in when the welcome banquet lasts half the night.”

  “You never complain,” Grace said, a mischievous tone coloring her voice. “At least not when Claudia is around.”

  Davey rounded on her. “Hey! I didn’t give you any problems over your little boyfriend from Ceres. Claudia is a friend.”

  Grace’s face turned red. “Jason isn’t my boyfriend and, yes, you did give—”

  “That’s enough,” Matthew cut her off. If this line of conversation continued, someone was going to bring up—

  “Are you looking forward to seeing Julia?” Davey asked.

  And there it was. Matthew adjusted the Sparrow’s heading slightly as a strong crosswind set in. “Has the fact that I’m a priest been entirely forgotten?”

  “Former priest,” Grace said. “You’re an eligible bachelor these days.”

  “Technically not true. I’ve not been laicized.”

  Davey threw up his arms in exasperation. “I don’t even want to know what that means.”

  “Actually, I think you can legally marry,” Yvonne said. “According to Pope Krupnik anyway. Celibacy is still encouraged but not strictly mandated anymore due to—”

  “Why do you even know that?” Matthew asked. He looked at the comm begging tower control to give him landing permission. Anything to end this conversation.

  “I was curious,” Grace said, “and had Yvonne look that last part up. I say you’re an eligible bachelor and need to keep your mind open to the possibilities.” She winked aggressively.

  The comm crackled and Matthew breathed a prayer of thanks. “SPW 5840, this is Tower Control. You are cleared for landing at the Royal Hanger. Enjoy your stay.”

  “Thanks, Tower.” Matthew finished the approach to the city. The hanger was on the trailing side of the city at the moment, making landing an easy task. With a gentle bump, he set the ship down on the deck. “Someone go beat on Abigail’s door. It’s time to start the day.” In hindsight, he was glad she’d slept in. The last thing he needed was her heckling him as well.

  THE PORTSIDE AIRLOCK opened and Abigail followed Matthew out into the spacious hangar. She stifled a yawn as she shielded her eyes from the harsh glare of the overhead lamps. At the bottom of the ramp stood four crimson armored security guards. And behind them...

  Oh great. Ms. Legs was here. Julia, eldest daughter of Emperor Dominic the Second, stood with a smile on her face. She wore a crimson and silver coat over an ankle-length skirt. The whole getup had a light and airy look, more like she was dressed for a picnic than business.

  Matthew nodded to the guards. “All weapons have been left behind on the ship, as usual. And the Shield Maiden has special permission to wear her armor in public on Discordia.” They parted and allowed Julia to step forward.

  “Well, well, Matthew Cole,” she said. “You and your crew can’t seem to stay out of trouble, can you?”

  He took his hat off and bowed politely. “Believe it or not, we try to keep ourselves out of the limelight. There have just been complications lately.”

  She smiled wryly. “Is that so? I’m starting to think that dad is right about you. But I’ll let him speak for himself” She smiled at Abigail. “Ms. Sharon, I hope you’re doing well.”

  Abigail honestly did her best to return the smile, but she had a feeling it was more like a pinched grimace. “Well enough, for all the difficulty it is keeping Matthew alive. That’s quite a trick on some days. I thought you spent most of your time on Concordia. I wasn’t expecting you to greet us today.”

  “My term as Concordia’s Trade Minister ended six months ago and I’m currently serving my father in an advisory role. When I heard of your arrival, I dropped what I was doing and came this way.” She looked past them at the opening into the Sparrow. “Is the rest of your crew here? You are all invited to brunch in the palace gardens. Sadly, my father will not be able to join us until the evening as he has prior engagements.”

  Matthew shared a quick glance with Abigail. “I’ll get the rest,” she shrugged and turned back toward the Sparrow. Unsurprisingly, the other members of the crew were lurking just inside the open airlock.

  “Ha, told you Julia would be here,” Davey said, and then grunted as Grace elbowed him.

  “Come on,” Abigail grumbled. “Your faces aren’t going to stuff themselves.” She spun on her heel and marched back down the ramp, not really caring if her manners were lacking. There was a whisper behind her back but she decided it was better for everyone if she just ignored it.

  “It’s good to see each of you again,” Julia called to the group. “If you’ll all follow me, please.”

  Abigail didn’t fail to notice the guard falling into place behind them. As they left the hangar via a long-arched hall, Davey nudged her. “See the pikes those guys have? You should get one of those. A shield is cool and all, but a pike...?”

  Abigail eyed the long slender weapon the guards carried and the wicked curved blade at the top. “Remember the Swiss Guard at the Vatican? All pomp and circumstance, and if you look at them wrong, precision and death. I guarantee you the guns come out when things get nasty.”

  “Right. But you could have a giant blade and a giant shield.” She frowned at Davey, but he just shrugged. “I’m just saying it would be awesome and you should keep your options open.”

  The hallway emptied out into a large garden, the same one that had held Julia’s disastrous thirtieth birthday party not quite two years ago. Then, it had been filled with costumed guests. Now it looked like a good spot to curl up for a nap. High above, yellow light filtered down through skylights onto rows of hedges and cool fountains. An open grassy area was set with tables and a dozen or more palace servants ran about setting places with utensils.

  “Brunch will be ready in about half an hour,” Julia said. She placed a hand on her hip. “You’ll have to forgive the wait. You didn’t exactly give us much warning.”

  “This really isn’t necessary,” Matthew insisted. “We’ve had breakfast already and—”

  “It was cold oatmeal,” Abigail said. “Please don’t let Matthew’s humility interfere with your generosity. We’re starving freelancers and when someone offers real food, we take it.”

  “Amen to that,” Yvonne muttered. Davey and Grace both nodded. Thankfully, Matthew bit his tongue and let the matter slide.

  Julia gave them a mischievous smile. “Matthew’s overdeveloped sense of propriety has no power here. You’re welcome to enjoy the gardens until then. I’m going to see if any of my brothers and sisters are free to join us.” Abigail nudged Davey at the same time that Grace did, and he nearly fell to the floor. The Venusians nearby, including Julia, were polite enough to ignore them.

  Matthew just gave them all a tired glare. “I’d like to get through today without mortal embarrassment, if that’s okay with the rest of you.”

  BRUNCH WAS EVERYTHING you’d expect at the palace of an emperor and Yvonne had scarcely eaten so well in her life. There were smoked salmon toasts with herbs, fried eggs on ratatouille, asparagus frittatas, and more that she wouldn’t have been able to try if she had a week of breakfasts.

  “Are you sure you weren’t expecting the pope himself?” she politely asked Empress Vivian.

  Vivian was only a few years younger than Yvonne, the youngest of her eight children being three years younger than Grace. “The crew of the Sparrow are friends of the throne and will be even closer if my husband has anything to say on the matter.”

  “We’ve been wondering what this was about.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to wonder a little longer. Dominic would be crushed if I blabbed about his grand idea.”

  Some ways down the table, Dav
ey and Grace sat with the younger batch of imperial kids. “I notice that one of your children is absent,” Yvonne said. “Claudia, I think her name was.”

  “Claudia just started her first term at the University of Ganymede three weeks ago.” Vivian took a sip from her tea. “She was fortunate to have made the required marks. They don’t grant special privilege to anyone, not even the imperial family. Which I’m thankful for. We don’t practice primogeniture here on Venus, and someday when my husband abdicates to his chosen successor, they will have to stand as private citizens on their own merits.”

  That was something that Yvonne could respect. It also pleased her that even the richest in the solar system couldn’t just buy their way into her alma mater. “Claudia is due a congratulations on her achievement then, though I think the younger crewmen were looking forward to seeing her.”

  “Claudia was quite disappointed that the Sparrow didn’t make it here before her departure. I think she may have been hoping to see a certain young man.”

  “Is that so?” Yvonne asked, drinking from her coffee. And what glorious coffee it was. She wondered if the Sparrow could afford it. “Pity.”

  “Pity indeed,” Vivian said and laughed.

  For a moment, Yvonne felt like a mother sharing a conspiratorial moment with another mother. It was a surreal thought. In some ways, she was like a mother to the rest of Sparrow, but it was a job she was ill-suited for. Nurturing had never really been in her nature. If she and Tomas had been able to have kids, he would have been the one the kids ran to when they skinned their knees. There was more to mothering than simply doting upon injuries and hurt feelings but she had learned none of that. Matthew was good at the parental role, his time as a father in the church had prepared him to deal with, well, all of them. For the briefest moment, she imagined a future where Tomas was on the Sparrow with them. It would have been perfect, for all of them.

  Vivian was saying something. “I’m sorry,” Yvonne said. “I missed that last part.” She’d been caught daydreaming, of all things, and in polite company.

  Vivian was courteous enough not to miss a beat. “I was saying that there will be other times. And that she wasn’t my only daughter to take an interest in the Sparrow’s men.”

  Yvonne glanced down the table to where Matthew sat sandwiched between Julia and Abigail. Julia looked like the only one that was enjoying herself. “I hope she doesn’t get her hopes up.”

  “Are he and Ms. Sharon together then?”

  Yvonne nearly choked on her frittata. “Excuse me. No, they aren’t, but some days I wonder at the possibility. I mostly meant she shouldn’t get her hopes up because Matthew Cole is...” She searched for a word that was both polite and accurate. “Romantically challenged.” She smiled so the other woman knew she was joking, but they were both interrupted before she could respond.

  “My friends, it is good to see you all!” Yvonne turned to see Emperor Dominic the Second, entering the courtyard with a cadre of guards. The brown-bearded man wore a bright crimson tunic with a silver sash. Yvonne appreciated the strange styles of Venus. It was one of the few places in the solar system that had a truly new culture, rather than endlessly iterating on a lost homeland.

  Vivian stood and went to her husband at once. “What are you doing here? You have your meeting with the Warszawan Prime Minister!”

  Dominic made a dismissive gesture. “That can wait. We all know we’ll both sign the treaty as soon as the adjustments are made. This is far more important.” Yvonne smiled at the way he avoided Vivian’s keen glare.

  Matthew stood as the man approached him and dipped his head respectfully. “We appreciate the invitation. We’ve had some business to finish up these last few months and are sorry about the delay.”

  Dominic extended his hand to him, and Yvonne noticed that Matthew hesitated for a split second before taking it. “I said to come at your leisure,” Dominic said. “But please continue your meal. My children, I’ll have to ask you to part the waters for me. I need to speak with the freelancer and his crew.”

  The younger royals grumbled as they made room across the table from Matthew. Vivian and Yvonne also moved closer to where the business would be occurring. A servant tried to approach Dominic with food. “No, thank you, Cecil, I’m fine for now, but something to drink would be wonderful.” He turned to Matthew. “I believe you owe me a story of your recent adventures. I’m rather looking forward to hearing the details on how you saved Ceres.”

  To his credit, Matthew took a breath and dove right in, rather than protesting. The tale was amended on occasion by other crew members, particularly the parts where Matthew wasn’t involved, and on occasion Dominic had questions. But at length he finished the tale. Satisfied at last, Dominic sat back and stroked his thick beard. “Amazing. Even better than the news stories. They entirely left out Grace’s part, and that seems to have been the beating heart of it all.”

  “We thought it best to protect Arthur by keeping her out of the public eye,” Matthew said.

  “That was wise, but I am glad to know the true story. Consider your debt repaid.”

  “About that,” Matthew said. “I’d like to pay you back for the loan. I appreciate what you saved us in interest. If a freelancer can’t stand on their own two feet, they won’t be in the business long.”

  Vivian chuckled, and placed a hand on her husband’s arm. “I told you this was going to happen, dear.”

  Dominic crossed his arms. “I laid out the terms. I bought your loan in exchange for an account of your most recent exploits, which you have paid in full. I won’t take one penny from you.”

  At this Yvonne gave Matthew a look. “And I told you that was going to happen.”

  She hoped Matthew wasn’t going to insist on a fight he was destined to lose. Instead, he nodded. “Then I’ll have to offer you my thanks.”

  Dominic smiled. “Now about this idea I’ve had for a while. It’s a big one. And I want you and the Sparrow to be the face of it.” The table quieted down and all eyes turned toward the emperor. “What if there was an organization for the freelancers. The good ones. And I don’t mean the ones that are good at their jobs. I mean the moral heroes out there fighting the good fight, like you guys. Any citizen that wants to ensure that they hire an honest freelancer, those that make the solar system a better place, would be able to put in their request to the organization.”

  “Like the League of Heroes in Splendid Sam.” All eyes turned to Davey. He turned red and shrank into himself as he realized who he had interrupted. “Sorry.”

  “Precisely like the League,” Dominic said, growing more excited by the minute. “And just like the League has its champion in Splendid Sam, our organization will have its champion too. What do you say, Matthew Cole?”

  Yvonne wasn’t surprised to find out that the emperor was a fan of pulp radio dramas, not with the way he romanticized adventure. Nor was she surprised that Matthew had gone still as stone, probably mortified that he was being asked to be part of this.

  It was a funny thing to watch the slow evolution of the gruff former priest. Once a quiet and private man, he kept getting drawn into the thick of things, like the universe just couldn’t leave him alone. And somehow he made things better. Perhaps it was the rare mixture of strength, and gentle compassion. In a universe where the weak were crushed, he was an anomaly who transformed those around him. Abigail was once little more than an armored ruffian, only mitigated by the fact that the people she beat up were usually the bad guys. Now she looked for excuses to be just the sort of hero Dominic wanted to fill his organization with. And Davey, he wasn’t even recognizable from the dangerous young man that had first stepped foot on the Sparrow.

  For a moment Yvonne wondered if she was any better off. Then she saw in her mind Kudzu’s broken body on Ceres and decided that wasn’t the case. Maybe if circumstances had been different. She’d never asked for Tomas to be murdered.

  But Matthew was like Tomas. An upright and moral man. And Yvon
ne knew good and well that he wouldn’t turn Dominic down. He might complain and insist there was a better man for the job, but Matthew was the worst judge of his own worth. Even Whitaker could see what everyone else saw.

  Those gathered at the brunch table watched Matthew as the silence dragged out. At last, he swallowed. “You’ve got the wrong man, Emperor. You’re gonna need someone that’s good in front of cameras and I’d just as soon avoid the attention.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Yvonne said sharply. “Of course he’ll do it.”

  “Don’t you think I have a say in this?” Matthew asked.

  She met his gaze without flinching. “You seem to think you’ll say no. At least hear him out before you refuse.” She knew quite well that if this was a serious endeavor Matthew would eventually agree to it. The man couldn’t do the wrong thing if he wanted to. And this was the kind of thing he’d been born for.

  He was silent for a good minute before continuing. “There’s a lot to talk about before I come anywhere near agreeing,” Matthew said. “Which I’ve not done.”

  “Yet,” Yvonne said.

  He ignored her and turned back to the emperor. “What’s your part in this?”

  “Financial sponsor and public relations. I’ll pay for overhead. I can also help negotiate with the Broker’s Alliance. I offer you my lawyers and accountants to make the backend work. But I need you to be the figurehead. The face of the organization. I also want you to vet potential members. I imagine you can call to mind prospective candidates as we speak.”

  “I can think of a few, but you may be disappointed to find that there aren’t many freelancers with clean records.”