The Witches of Ne'arth (The Star Wizards Trilogy Book 2)

by Joseph Schembrie

  And in her mind, she converted numbers into narrative.

  Despite the massive diversions of capital, the imperial economy was still growing. New trade ties with Pindor, the completion of the coastal railway on Amara, a record harvest from the plantations of Rinth – all the figures were up. That was comforting, yet not enough to completely put her at ease.

  As fast as Pavonia grew, reports from her spies indicated that the Forjvisian economy was growing even faster. The problem, she surmised, was that as quickly as she could introduce a piece of Earth technology into the Pavonian economy, their spies introduced it into the Forjvisian economy. She could see the time was soon coming when in order to keep a technological lead, she would have to provide electrification to the streets of Victoriana, forever ruining her view of the stars at night. Then would come automobiles, forever ruining the city's tranquility. Why was pre-Singularity industrial technology so polluting, so resource-sapping?

  Perhaps it would be best just to have it out with the Forjvisians as soon as possible. In the back of her mind as she scanned the budget figures, she tallied profits and losses and contemplated the cost of war.

  She scribbled revisions with her red pencil. The room quieted. Well, right they were to be concerned. Budgets would be shifting because times were changing. The long-prophesied Star Child was on his way – assuming that annoying emulator didn't botch its assignment.

  Mavan observed: “You've raised the budget on Project Zeus again. Where are we to find the money?”

  “Out of thin air, of course. You still don't understand the principles of central banking?”

  “I do, though the level of duplicity numbs my mind. My concern is we're already risking heavy price inflation with a credit expansion to finance the naval construction program.”

  “We'll schedule a contraction next cycle. For now we need both a bigger fleet and Zeus.”

  “I understand that our military expenditures are a response to those of Forjvis, but someday, please explain the necessity of Zeus.”

  Athena smiled. “Someday.”

  She wondered how Mavan would react if she said it was not the Republic that needed Zeus, but that Zeus needed the Republic – that the Republic existed to financially support Zeus.

  Finished with the reallocations, Athena checked her pocket watch. “I have an appointment.”

  Without ceremony, she exited the control center and took the narrow passage to her office. The sole occupant wore a dress uniform that was not as well-cut as Asterdon's, but bore the kind of medals and ribbons one received for actually shooting and being shot at. Captain Kliev Dathar of the Imperial Aerial Navy was examining the map that spanned the wall behind her desk, tracing with his finger the gray shading that encircled the Amero Archipelago. Thus immersed, he spared her entry only a glance.

  “Tell me,” he asked. “Why is there a Barrier?”

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “What makes you think that I would know?”

  “If there is anyone who can account for herds of aerial leviathans the size of dreadnaughts, it is you. I wouldn't be surprised to know that you are in some way connected to the Barrier.”

  “The Storm Barrier has been around for decades. How old do you think I am?”

  “There are those that say that you bear too remarkable a resemblance to your Aunts Artemis and Astrid, so much so that you are in fact the continuation of them.”

  “What a bizarre notion!”

  “Well, they were both prominent women who were remarkably well preserved into late middle age, yet fell ill and went into seclusion and died, just as their far younger doppelgangers arrive from an elite boarding school whose location is unknown and which no one else seems to have attended. The debutantes are introduced to capital society upon the demise of their elders to take virtually the same social position – “

  She laughed. “You've read that silly man's book!”

  “I do know that at least one part isn't so silly. It does seem you own half the city and I for one know of your political influence. And doesn't our very location speak of your veiled power? I know of no other private citizen who has an office in Government House.”

  “That deranged writer vastly overestimates my familial wealth, and I serve the government merely as a consultant. I was speaking, though, of his outrageous conjectures against my person. The man all but accuses me of witchcraft. That I'm so antique, that I was the model for Victoriana Personified! I'm debating whether to sue him for libel.”

  “For taking you to be a goddess?”

  “I am not a goddess.” The burden of centuries added: “I surely do not feel like one.”

  “Well, my dear, you surely look like one. And the statue does have your eyes.”

  “These, you say?”

  She approached and looked up inquisitively. He bent his head and they kissed.

  “I've missed you, darling,” she whispered.

  “And I you, dearest,” he whispered back. “But you haven't answered my question about the Barrier.”

  Athena extracted herself from his embrace and became businesslike once more.

  “'What have I to do with it?'” she replied. “Nothing. Why would I enclose myself?”

  “You're saying it was created to contain you?”

  She swatted lightly. “You're hopeless!”

  His demeanor changed to pleading. “Athena, let me command Nemesis.”

  She plopped into her chair. “Not that again!”

  “There's nothing I'd rather do! Why, the first ship to cross over! Seven-eighths of the world, open to conquest!”

  You have no idea what a small thing that is. “There's no guarantee that even Nemesis can breach the Barrier. Besides, I have other plans for you.”

  “What then?”

  She glanced at the top desk drawer, in which was her draft for Asterdon's obituary. The sniper had already received half payment. After a suitable period of grieving for Asterdon (and, oh yes, Dathar's current wife), she and the Captain could announce their engagement . . . having been married so often before, she wondered how a marriage for love would be different.

  That, however, was placing cart before horse. As Father would often say was the key to success in life, she had to maneuver her target into thinking her idea was his. For that, she had to know the real Kliev.

  “Never mind the future. I've been waiting days to hear in private. Tell of your visit to Klun.”

  “I filed the report with Admiralty, and I know you have access to all their secrets. So again, tell me why I can't – “

  “I want to hear the report in your own words. For example, what of the people? Are they genuinely fanatics?”

  “Hardly. Archbishop Kantel is a boozy bowl of corruption. Horbin, his secretary, runs the Abbey behind the scenes, and is quite competent but cares only for power. As I said in the report, the monks are trained in the use of the radio and I am confident the Abbey administration will fully cooperate in apprehending the . . . are we actually calling him the 'Star Child?'”

  “You can call him 'Matt' if you wish.”

  “I once had my mouth washed out by my devout mother for taking that name in vain. Yet you say he is only human. Why all these precautions?”

  “He's full of tricks. Both wizards are.”

  “The archbishop says the other one hasn't been any problem at all. Just sits there in the dungeon, staring blankly at the wall. Follows if you pull at him. Put food in front of him, he eats. Put the bucket in front of him, handles his bodily functions on his own. Otherwise, just a blank. Such is the founder of their religion!”

  “Don't be so quick to scoff, Kliev. He's been that way for a hundred years, barely aging. Doesn't that give you pause?”

  “Sleepwalking through one's bowel movements falls short of my expectations for wizardly deeds.”

  “I suppose. Now is that your full report? Everything? Nothing to add?”

  “Nothing.”

  Athena watched closely. She could plainly see the m
icro-reactions: the twitch of the cheek, the averting of the eyes, the flick of the tongue on the lips.

  “There is something else.”

  “No, nothing.”

  She locked on his eyes. “Something is troubling you. Tell me.”

  Darkest suspicion arose. Few knew that the dungeon beneath the abbey of Klun was where the Elder Wizard was incarcerated. The whole world, however, knew that Klun was notorious for something else. Suddenly she felt cold. She could instantly see the prospect of marriage receding. How foolish of her ever to think that a baseline male could be trusted with her heart!

  “Athena, there really is nothing – “

  “Enough!”

  His face registered shock. She followed his glance to the desk, where her whitened fingers had gouged impressions into the wood. She covered the craterlets with the blotter. She arose heavily. He was as still as death as she approached. She placed her palm to his forehead and gazed steadily into his eyes.

  “Don't lie to me, Kliev. I will know.”

  According to Dathar's service record, he was among the bravest of officers, but nothing had prepared him for her in a bad mood. And so he broke down and told her the incident with the girl.

  “– It was a one time thing, a moment of weakness. I'd been out on patrol so long without seeing you. I – I have feelings. I have needs. I lost control, but only once, only momentarily, it was a moment of weakness. I – I think it was because of my thoughts of you that I swooned before anything could transpire. I did not betray you, Athena. I swear. It was a one time thing and nothing happened. I swear!”

  Her heart fluttered, she felt the world crashing. Or rather, the facade was fallen away and beneath was the same stale, empty world it had always been. For a time she had deceived herself. Once again, she had learned there was no such thing as true love. True love was impossible between man and woman, save for that between Father and Daughter.

  How could you, she thought at the man whom she had believed was capable of loving her. And what was the attraction to a mere adolescent? Evolutionary programming could only go so far in explaining male sexual behavior. Then it seemed that a perverse social conditioning had assumed control of their minds. To prefer a mere child-whore to her, Daughter of The Creator!

  When his babbling finally petered away, she replied, “I see.”

  To human ears, the only noise in the room was the ticking of the clock. She heard his quickened pulse as well, and felt the urge to make it stop. She hadn't, however, missed the implication of the incident. And that was more important than her feelings.

  For her was all too easy to tuck emotion away and assume a mask of objectivity. She would not have survived the city if she could not do that. Even so, this time she felt a little as if she were dying.

  “You fell instantly asleep upon her touch, you say.”

  “Why, yes.” Doubtless having expected an outburst, he sagged with relief at her air of calm. “It was the damnedest thing. I wasn't even tired, I'd hardly drank beforehand – and at first touch, I fainted at her feet! Perhaps the Abbey wine is more potent than reputed to be. Nothing happened after that, Athena, I swear.”

  Not for lack of trying, she thought. She averted her eyes as she sank into her chair. “This incident will have no impact on your service record.”

  “As . . . for us?”

  “I must think.”

  “Athena, I am so sorry, it was a moment of weakness, I swear, you know how much I love you – “

  “I must think.” She refrained from hurling the chair at him. “The incident has no impact on your record. Captain, it is your professionalism that I require now. The incident as you described it has significant implications for the security of the Republic. Can I count on you now, at this moment, to put personal feelings aside and perform your duty on a mission of utmost importance?”

  Dathar bowed stiffly.

  She continued: “First of all, I am giving you command of Nemesis, effective immediately.”

  “Athena! Thank you! Thank you!”

  She took her personal stationery and wrote the orders to Admiralty. Dathar regarded the envelope as solemnly as an Arthurian knight would have revered the acquiring of Excalibur.

  “I won't let you down, Athena, I swear!”

  In his professional capacity, she knew that was true. She could trust him as much as she could trust any officer in the the Aerial Navy to do his 'duty,' so long as it had to do with regions of his body other than his groin.

  “Now, as to your mission,” she said flatly. “Take a squad of Marines aboard Nemesis and fly directly to Klun in haste. Do not inform the Abbey of your coming – surprise is of the essence. When you arrive, your objective is to apprehend the girl. Capture her if you can, kill her if necessary to prevent escape.”

  “The girl? I'm sorry, which girl are we talking about?”

  “The one you described, who put you to sleep.”

  “Kill? Whatever for? She's just a trifling girl – “

  That didn't stop you from wanting to whore away my love!

  “I realize it sounds as if I am acting out of jealousy. I assure you, this is nothing personal. Quite objectively, she is extremely dangerous and extremely important to the affairs of the Republic. Believe me when I tell you, she is more of a threat to the security of our nation than Forjvis itself.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Let us say the myths of the Church regarding the powers of the Wizard are not entirely without foundation, and at this moment she may have acquired those powers.”

  “I see.”

  His expression indicated that he didn't. She doubted that even Mavan could understand the nature of a neural implant matrix. At any rate, she didn't need their understanding. She needed their unquestioned obedience. That was something that Dathar could be relied upon to provide.

  “You are to obey these instructions to the letter. When you apprehend her, you must seek at all costs to avoid physical contact between her and any other person. If she comes into contact with anyone, that person is to be immediately contained as well, and killed if they attempt escape, and the same for anyone who touches their body.”

  “Does she carry a plague?”

  “In a sense.”

  Dathar murmured, “I touched her.”

  “I am confident you were not contaminated at that time. From here on, however, the rule applies. Even to you.”

  “Can you give me some idea of how – in what way – she can be dangerous?”

  “Of course. I will demonstrate. Take out your sword.”

  “My sword?”

  She gestured toward his ceremonial saber. Apprehensively, he unsheathed it.

  “On the count of three, you are to attempt to decapitate me, with all force and speed.”

  “Athena – what?”

  “I gave you an order. Attempt to decapitate me.”

  The blade wobbled in his hands. “Athena! I understand that you are perhaps distraught –”

  “In case you are wondering, no, I am not suicidal, and I am certainly not asking you to assist in my suicide. I assure you, I will be unharmed. I wish purely to demonstrate the extent of the threat you will encounter with the girl. Now obey – don't hesitate or hold back, no more delay or I'll strip your commission this very moment.”

  Dathar stared, then bowed.

  She continued: “So, on the count. One . . . two . . . three!”

  In what was a blur to normal human vision, he slashed at her neck. The blade met only air. Dathar stared uncomprehending at the empty seat.

  Standing at his side, Athena whispered into his ear, “That is how fast she can move.”

  He stared at where she had been, then nodded, then returned the blade to its sheath.

  She dismissed him coolly. After he was gone, she opened the top drawer and scanned the obituary she had scheduled for publication in next Friday's edition of the Victoriana Times.

  Dispatches carry the sad news that in the early hours of
yesterday morning, Colonel Kwinsi Asterdon was killed during a surprise attack at the Forjvisian frontier. Plunging into the thick of battle, the colonel heroically rallied the troops but was fatally downed by a fusillade of artillery fire . . . his last words were heard to be, “Tell my dear wife how deeply I love her!”

  The sniper contract would have to be canceled, the half-payment sacrificed. Asterdon would continue his doltish charade as loving husband, unaware of how narrowly he had missed his funeral. As she tore the obituary into pieces, Athena mused that Kwinsi's last words more likely would have been, “Lords, I need a drink!” He was probably saying that now in a local pub.

  As for Dathar . . . well, she should have known. Surely his service record was one of courage and initiative, surely he had been charming and stimulating at the social events she had arranged for their mutual attendance and 'chance' meetings, but at bottom he was just a scoundrel like all the other officers who captained the airships of the Imperial Republic. They had to be scoundrels, to do what they did – to send men to their deaths and bomb villages of innocents, all for no purpose higher than the greed of an oligarchy.

  As necessary as such men were now, none of them would be invited into the Human Reservation. If they were so intent on a code of combat, let them fight against mutants bred for the purpose!

  Still . . . Dathar. She forced away the delusions of a domestic bliss. There was truly only one man for her, only one man she should care about.

  Father.

  And with that clarity of mind, she thought: He will want to know this.

  She sealed the office and ascended the steps to the main passage, so preoccupied with her thoughts that she did not notice the royal entourage until she nearly ran into it. Guards, servants, guests, and the Queen herself came to an abrupt halt. Those of the highest order knew who she was, and stared in shock.

  “POSTURE!” Athena snapped at the Queen.

  The Queen looked mortified, and immediately straightened.

  Athena stormed onto the street. She met the glares of the passersby and realized she'd forgotten her hat. Yes, never mind scandals of imperial corruption and child prostitution – a bare-headed woman roams the streets! The Reservation, she decided, would not have to be large.