There Before the Chaos

by K. B. Wagers

  The grief over Cas was still so painfully fresh, and I pushed it aside with difficulty as I headed into my room on the all clear from Gita without a response for Stasia. There was a flutter in my gut at her words, the instinctive knowledge that Fasé’s reappearance would herald some form of trouble. When coupled with the news about the increasing fights between the Farians and the Shen, even the more logical part of me could see the danger crawling over the event horizon.

  I feared that this hard-won peace wasn’t going to last for long, and I hoped we were ready for whatever storm was coming.

  “Gita, I’m taking my bios off-line,” I said.

  “Yes, ma’am. We’ll be back in an hour.” The quiet sounds of Alba and Gita ushering everyone else from my suite followed until I closed the door of the bathroom, cutting it off.

  I turned off my smati’s bio-link with my BodyGuards; normally this would set off a loud series of alarms for all my Guards, but Gita had already issued the warning.

  About a week after Wilson’s death, I’d discovered a rather nasty side effect of his little box stunt. My claustrophobia notwithstanding, being drowned in a metal box in front of the entire galaxy had led to an extreme difficulty with most enclosed spaces. Adding water only made things worse.

  Which meant showering was … difficult.

  The first time I’d tried it had been in the hospital, and my breakdown had resulted in a truly epic scene I only knew about because Emmory had relented and allowed me to watch his digital recording of the event.

  I’d started shutting off my bio-link the next day. Gita had protested. Emmory had only nodded and offered me the compromise of an hour of time, or more if I needed it as long as I checked in both before and after I went off-line.

  For four months afterward I’d bathed out of the sink.

  The hotel shower was even worse. A box—with clear glass sides—but still a box, and the sound of running water had left me breathless and sweating and curled into a corner of the bathroom every time I’d tried to use it.

  Two months ago I tried to turn the water on again. The sound of it falling on the tile reduced me to a shaking mess and I’d thrown up twice before I could get back up to turn it off.

  I reached into the shower and tapped the water on, jerking my hand out before it could get wet.

  Breathe in, breathe out. Portis’s voice was calm in my head. My former lover and Emmory’s younger brother had accompanied me out into the black and died there—trying to protect me from Wilson’s vendetta. I could still hear him, or at least liked to pretend I could, and took what comfort I could in his fading memory.

  My fingers shook as I tied my hair back, and the air was thick in my lungs. “I can’t.” The words tumbled out even as my hands operated of their own free will and stripped my clothes off with ruthless efficiency.

  It’s just a shower, baby. You can leave the door open.

  It wasn’t just the door. It was the water on my skin. The feel of it brought everything back—from the cold damp air of that box to the rushing sound of water in my ears and finally the feeling of water sliding into my lungs.

  Muttering a curse, I gritted my teeth and grabbed for the washcloth, wetting it and swiping it across the soap as I stepped halfway into the shower and washed as fast as I humanly could.

  I rinsed off and turned off the water, the silence broken by the sound of my heart thumping in my ears and my sobs slicing through the air.

  The tile was cool on my cheek where I’d sunk to the floor, a towel wrapped around me and prayer on my lips. “… never did I do fire sacrifice. Chanting millions of mantras.” The words tumbled unbidden out of my throat, jagged-edged and painful. I’d never been much of a faithful devotee, but when Wilson locked me in the box the only thing besides Portis that had kept me from screaming was reciting the Aparadha Stotram. “O Lord Shiva who is all compassionate, please forgive me. You are the Lord of all deities and one whose nature is to bless all.”

  Praying brought me so little comfort it was useless, but for some stupid reason I did it anyway.

  “We appreciate all that Your Majesty’s people have done over the past few months.” The head of the Tarsi delegation, a stately older woman wrapped in a rust-colored chador, sat with a poise that reminded me of my mother. “We realize how difficult things have been, and there would have been no complaint had you asked us to return at a better time. Even though the fighting on the horizon is worrisome for us all.”

  I folded my hands and shook them lightly in her direction. It would seem I wasn’t the only one concerned about the newest reports of fighting between the Farians and the Shen. “We are grateful for your compassion, Essa Donya, and your patience with us. This agreement was important to my mother, and it’s a worthy way to honor her memory.”

  Donya returned the gesture, and the young woman and man flanking her echoed it. “Bark Allah laha, Your Majesty.” Her clear amber eyes were on mine.

  May God bless her.

  I swallowed back the lump in my throat. My mother could have used those blessings years ago, not only for the troublesome second daughter she’d had to wrangle after my father’s death but for the monsters that crawled into our home and stole everything from her.

  “Thank you.” Pressing my hand to the data pad in front of me with a smile, I shook away the sadness and then passed it across the table to Donya. “I am most pleased to announce the beginning of our partnership. May it be the first days of a long and beneficial friendship between Indrana and Tarsis.”

  “As Allah wills it.” Donya pressed her hand to the pad, and then, like the consummate politician she was, stood. “We know you are extremely busy, Majesty. If there are other things you need to attend to, do not feel as though you are rude to do so.”

  I stood with a grateful smile as they left. The numbers flashing in the corner of my eye told me I was going to be late for the Matriarch Council meeting. We’d spent longer in casual conversation than I’d expected. I’d enjoyed it, though; Essa Donya’s presence had been a soothing blanket on the raging fire still burning across my raw nerves.

  The Tarsi were a small contingent within the wider Sulimain Alliance and generally didn’t do business with anyone outside the alliance. However, something about Mother and Indrana had piqued their interest, and the Tarsi had approached with an offer of some very interesting farming technology and a desperately needed influx of cash in exchange for Indrana lobbying the Farians on behalf of the alliance for a treaty and allowing Tarsi students to come to our universities for study.

  It was a win-win and the bulk of the work had been done before I’d even arrived home, so there had been no reason to reject the Tarsi’s offer. No one seemed quite willing to breathe that idea out loud for fear of cursing the opportunity; however, I suspected it was the first step to an alliance with all the Sulimain worlds, and that was something I was very interested in. Especially if the Farians approved the pending treaty. So I followed their lead and kept my mouth shut.

  For six months I’d been finding my feet as empress, searching for a way to balance the gunrunner I had been with who I was now. It was surprising to everyone, I think, but especially to me just how well I was adapting. There was no time for wistful reflection or moping about the loss of my freedom. It was not at all how I’d thought my life would turn out twenty years ago.

  My flight from home had started off as a mission to find my father’s killer. When my search dead-ended, I decided to stay away and build a life for myself: first, as one of Cheng Hao’s crew, then as the captain of my own ship.

  The empire didn’t need me. It was safely in Mother’s capable hands and set to be passed along to my older sister, Cire. I was free out in the black, not Hailimi—second daughter, princess by accident of birth—but Cressen Stone, a person of my own making, a woman answerable to herself and the laws she’d chosen instead of the ones imposed on her.

  Until Wilson, the very man responsible for my father’s death, directed his fury at the rest of m
y family. With my younger sister Pace dead and my mother unstable, the Trackers Emmory and Zin were tasked by Cire to bring me home.

  I hadn’t wanted to go, but I was all that was left to save the empire.

  Now I was here, days away from peace with the Saxons, something my mother had never been able to accomplish. I was proud of myself for juggling busier days than we’d ever seen out in the black—even if there were a lot fewer people shooting at me. And even if I occasionally missed the freedom I’d had out in the black, I was happy right where I was.

  Fasé’s message cast a shadow over all that. If she was coming back to Pashati, my gut whispered, it meant trouble was following in her wake.

  3

  Majesty?” Gita touched my arm. “Are you all right?”

  I realized I was alone in the room and the numbers flashing in the corner of my vision were pronouncing me even more late for my next meeting.

  “I’m fine,” I said with a smile. “Just musing on the unexpected turns a life can take. Let’s move.”

  “You’re not wrong, Majesty,” my Dve said with an answering smile. “I’m reasonably sure none of us ever expected we’d be where we are now.”

  The shouting reverberated down the hallway as Gita and I approached a repurposed suite down the hall where the council meeting was taking place. My Dve stepped in front of me, her hand going to the Hessian 45 on her hip.

  “I doubt we need backup, Gita,” I said, knowing she would ignore me.

  Moments later Riddhi and Sahil Gupta, twin BodyGuards, arrived sporting a pair of identical concerned frowns. The twins were in their midtwenties. Their dark hair, eyes, and skin made them look like shadows against the white hallway wall.

  The shouting had only grown in volume while we waited, and I arched an eyebrow at the words that spilled into the hallway through the doorway.

  “Clinging to our antiquated way of life is what got us into this mess in the first place, Heela!” Caterina Saito’s voice rang with frustration and anger.

  “Antiquated? You want to talk about ancient history? We could stumble back to the old days of Earth if you’d like. When we were nothing but property? We don’t treat men anywhere near as badly as they have treated us.”

  “Do you want to go in, Majesty?”

  “No, let’s hang out here for a moment, Gita,” I murmured the order as a third voice cut into Caterina’s reply. My smati identified the voice as Gita’s older sister, Adi Desai.

  “There are males in positions of power all over the empire: governors, in the military, here in the government. Even half the empress’s BodyGuards identify as male. I don’t see what the fuss is about equality. They’ve already got it. Forcing even more diversity on us before we are ready is a recipe for disaster.”

  Sahil’s indrawn breath was sharp, and I was unable to stop myself from sliding a look in his direction.

  “Thoughts on that reasoning, Sahil?” The question slipped out before I could stop myself. I wasn’t supposed to be asking my BodyGuards for political advice, a request from a number of people that I frequently ignored.

  Plus, Portis whispered in my head, Fasé told you to pay attention.

  Sahil swallowed, his dark eyes wide and conflicted while I waited patiently.

  “A scattering of important positions isn’t the same thing as equality, Majesty. It doesn’t change the system that’s already in place.”

  “Correct.” I grabbed him by the back of the head and pressed my forehead to his. My older BodyGuards were used to me treating them more like crew on equal footing than empress and Guard, but Sahil jerked a little in surprise before he grinned at me.

  I released him and slipped into the room, Gita’s hissing displeasure following on my heels.

  Heela Maxwell had her back to the door, so she didn’t see me as she continued her tirade. Several other matriarchs did, but I held up my hand and shook my head.

  “Whatever the empress has planned with her Upjas friends, it’s our duty to preserve the empire. The empire, Caterina, as it has stood for thousands of years. Not some half-baked notion of equality based on her gunrunning exploits and the Upjas’s ridiculous demands.”

  “Really, Heela, if we were doing this based on my gunrunning exploits I’d just kill everyone and start over,” I said, grinning as I shook my head.

  You’d have thought I’d set off a silencer nuke. Heela’s strangled gasp dropped with her to the floor as she went to her knees. I moved into the room, my BodyGuards behind me, and all the other women within the room dipped into curtsies.

  “I am disappointed in you, Adi,” I said to Matriarch Desai as I passed her. I hadn’t thought Gita’s older sister was against the reforms.

  “And you, Heela,” I said over our smati link so no one else could hear. “Your mother would be disappointed in you.”

  Heela jerked as though I’d kicked her.

  “I was kidding about the killing,” I said aloud. “I think you’d all agree we’ve had plenty of that already. I apologize for my tardiness, ladies; it took longer with the Tarsi than expected. What have I missed?”

  “We seem to have reached an impasse concerning elder sons on the Ancillary Council, Majesty.” Caterina’s face was neutral in its expression, but I could see the amusement lurking in her eyes. “The council is split.”

  “Everyone have a seat. Heela, get up off the floor and put your ass in a chair,” I said, stepping around her and taking my seat at the head of the long table.

  The lump in my throat made its appearance as the women settled into their seats, seven on each side of the table, and I blinked to clear away the faces that should have been there: Clara Desai, Loka Naidu, Irit Waybly, Madhashri Acharya, Tare Zellin, Ola Surakesh, and Ipsita Maxwell. They were all gone, now nothing but memories to be carried by those of us unlucky enough to still be alive.

  Wilson had executed the matriarchs of half of Indrana’s noble families—more than half if you counted my mother and sisters among the dead. He’d stolen away decades of experience and leadership in the span of a few heartbeats. Even six months out, we were still fumbling with the loss, the council trying to find its feet in the ever-shifting landscape while Indrana staggered out of the traditions and customs that bound us toward something better.

  Now there were eldest daughters, or in the case of Lani Gohil, second daughters. Lani had taken Alice’s spot on the Matriarch Council upon her sister’s elevation to Crown Princess.

  “The issue under discussion, Majesty, is the proposal to allow elder sons onto the Ancillary Council,” Caterina said once everyone was seated. “I and six others feel that this is a good step toward the reforms proposed by the Upjas without causing further disruption to the government. The others argue that because we are still recovering from the war and Indrana is on unstable footing, it’s best to wait to enact any sort of changes until things are settled.”

  “Majesty, we merely think it’s best to move slowly.” Adi spoke up, gesturing at the matriarchs on her side of the table. “Everything is in flux; the people are uneasy about the reforms. They should be focused on the recovery and reconstruction from the war. Now is not the time to make changes that will only increase the instability of the empire.”

  “So they should just be patient?” I rested my elbows on the table and steepled my hands in front of my mouth. “Wait their turn?”

  “Our issue isn’t with the changes themselves so much as the timing,” Adi replied, shifting in her seat at my slow smile. I hadn’t been quiet about my support of the reforms, and she had to know she was treading on dangerous ground.

  “How long?”

  “Majesty?”

  “How long should they wait?” I waved a hand in the air. “Six more months? A year? Five? Fifty?” I slapped the same hand down on the tabletop and nearly everyone jumped. “I’m sure you think your argument so very logical and sensible, but the reality is there will always be another catastrophe, another time when things are unsettled, and the people are uneasy. Would w
e be where we are today if my ancestor-grandmother had waited for things to settle down before she took power?”

  “Majesty, that’s not the same—”

  “It’s exactly the same,” Zaran Khatri cut Adi off; the young, blond matriarch had her hands folded on the table in front of her. “If we wait, if we ask them to wait, it will never happen. There will always be some reason to put it off. We acknowledge that things are unstable right now, but that makes it easier, not harder, to do more than pay lip service to equality. You were in support of this when we met with the leaders of the Upjas, Adi. Don’t back away from it now just because you’re scared.”

  “How dare you,” Heela snapped, dark curls bouncing with her fury. “This isn’t about being scared, Zaran, though we have every right to be. We watched our mothers die at the hands of a madman who wanted to turn this empire upside down. And if no one else will say it, I will—my issues are with the changes. It was men who got us into this horror. Wilson, Phanin, your nephew, Your Majesty. If anything proves that men are untrustworthy, it is these new faces around the table.”

  “How dare I? How dare you, Heela.” Zaran slammed a fist into the tabletop. “Your mother went to her death in support of this empire’s future and the equality we seek! Now you’ll stain her memory with your cowardice.”

  The room devolved into chaos. I kept my face carefully blank at Zaran’s harsh words when what I really wanted to do was stare at her in shock. Matriarch Khatri had been a shy youngster when I’d first met her, her timid support of the Upjas a result of falling in love with one of the members. It appeared that the last few months had put some steel into her spine, and I felt a little sparkle of pride in my chest at how well she’d taken the older matriarch to task.

  “Well, that went downhill quickly. I thought you were supposed to be here to keep this from happening,” Caterina murmured under her breath, and I snorted.