The Worker Prince

by Bryan Thomas Schmidt

“We have to hope we can negotiate before it happens,” Aron said from a nearby chair.

  “With what leverage? We are one planet against the entire system.” Davi said, sinking into a chair near Aron and wondering how they could feel so confident.

  A communications panel beeped, distracting their attention a moment as a commtech ran to answer it.

  “Not everyone in the system sides with the Alliance,” Joram said. “They dominate by force, not by election.”

  “We’re making gains daily,” Aron said. “The Lord’s Council and the citizens of the Alliance must take note of it. Pressure will be brought to bear on the High Lord Councilor. Especially in regards to the Alliance prisoners we’re holding. Xalivar may not care about them but others will.”

  “The Alliance hasn’t even used half the force available to them. If history has taught us anything, it’s that they won’t give up easily,” Matheu said, his face locked in its usual grave expression. Did the man feel anything?

  “The Borali Alliance hasn’t fought in years,” Aron said. “They quelled a few ill-thought-out worker Movements, yes. But none of those had the military organization and planning we have.”

  “They don’t even see us as human beings,” Davi said. “You can’t assume their whole way of thinking will change right away.”

  “Not everyone in the Alliance thinks the same way. You didn’t,” Joram said.

  Davi nodded. “Because my mother saw to it that I was given unique opportunities and a liberal education most in the Alliance never have. Even she doesn’t think as I do.”

  “Most of them only remember the history of animosity between our peoples,” Matheu said.

  Davi couldn’t believe he’d wound up on the same side in this argument with Matheu. The tension between them had eased since they’d started trusting him, but the General was cold and hard, unlike Davi. “It may be a long fight.”

  “As soon as the area around the government center is stable, we’ll retrieve what’s left of Kinny’s fighter. Try to rebuild—” Joram said.

  “If the Alliance doesn’t get to it first,” Davi snapped, cutting him off. “It crashed into a building. There won’t be much left to salvage.”

  “We’ll take what we can from it,” Joram replied. “Like always.”

  Davi nodded as Aron stood and motioned for him to follow.

  “We’ve been looking into the information your friend at Presimion sent you about the prison,” Aron said as they moved away from the others.

  Hope rose inside Davi. “You’ve found something?”

  Aron shook his head. “Information on its defenses. It’s hidden underground and very well protected. Besides the fact that it’s on Legallis, there’s no feasible assault plan we can conceive of.”

  Davi’s shoulders sank with his heart. “I have to find a way to help Miri and my father.”

  “Maybe something can be worked out in the negotiations,” Aron said, trying to encourage him. And the tension in the leader’s eyes reminded Davi that Sol was his oldest friend. He wanted to save him as much as Davi and Lura did.

  “We don’t even know if there are going to be negotiations,” Davi said, his voice rising in frustration.

  “We don’t know for certain Miri and your father are being held there,” Aron reminded him. “But we’re trying to get as much intel as we can, I promise.”

  Davi nodded then turned and headed toward the corridor, feeling a need to get away from military thinking for a while. Lura had invited him and Tela to dinner. He hoped to gods she could take their minds off what they all faced, at least for a few hours.

  O O O

  As they sat around the table in Lura’s quarters that night, Tela and Lura chatting happily, Davi remained quiet, a lump in his throat. In his mind, he went over and over the issues he faced, searching for solutions. The battles had grown more and more risky. They’d lost fighters before, that was inevitable, but knowing it didn’t make him feel any less responsible. These real people, young people like him. Real lives lost. Real futures aborted. He wished he could reason with Xalivar somehow, but he’d already tried that. If he could only think of a way to convince him that friendship and cooperation would be far more beneficial to both sides than war. If the workers could let go of the past, after all the Lords had put them through, why couldn’t the Boralians? Why couldn’t they find a way past so no more soldiers and pilots had to die in senseless fighting?

  Head down as he offered silent prayers again for all those lost, his stomach was hard, the world slowed down almost to a stop around him. He almost didn’t notice when Lura reached out to gently caress his arm.

  As he looked up, she smiled. “You’re a million miles away today, son. Don’t worry. Everything will work out somehow. God always has a plan.”

  Davi didn’t even look at her as she placed her hand on his atop the table.

  “We lost a pilot today,” Tela explained.

  “Oh, Davi. I’m sure that’s very hard. But it’s not your fault,” Lura said, eyes filling with sympathy. It had little effect.

  “Loss is part of war, I get that,” Davi said, looking at the women. “But I don’t like it. And the longer this war drags out, the more losses we will sustain. We can ill afford them. We’re already outnumbered.”

  “We’re never outnumbered when God is on our side,” Lura said with confidence.

  Tela nodded, smiling. “Amen.”

  “Besides,” Lura added, “Your father always told me any man who likes war is a very dangerous man because there must be something seriously wrong with his mind. War is terrible.”

  Davi shook his head. “I wish I had faith like you two do. The situation seems so hopeless to me.”

  “I once thought my husband was lost forever, but now I find I may see him again,” Lura said. “There’s always hope.”

  Davi looked at her, his voice cracking as he felt a pain in the back of his throat. “A heavily guarded prison on the enemy’s capital planet—we have no way to reach him. We don’t even know for sure he’s there.” He looked down at his feet, absent-mindedly biting his lip and wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

  Lura squeezed his hand. “I refuse to believe that. I know God will find a way.” And in her eyes, he saw she absolutely meant it.

  She had so much faith. Davi hated to let her down. He didn’t yet share her confidence that God would work things out, that God cared about the little issues of human hearts, but he wanted so much for it to be true. She’d been hurt enough. He couldn’t bear to be the cause of further pain.

  And Tela, who had become such a blessing to him, had grown up without a father. He knew what that was like and didn’t want to disappoint her either. He wished he still had the influence he’d had as the Prince; that he could hold people accountable, issue orders, garner even a modicum of the military’s respect, but those days were behind him forever. He couldn’t recall ever feeling so helpless or hopeless.

  “Well, he’ll have to because I’m out of ideas,” Davi said bitterly, then stood and disappeared into the living room.

  Tela ran after him. “Can you blame her for being so hopeful?”

  “I don’t blame her. I just worry about her setting herself up for more pain and loss. She’s already had so much.” Davi sighed as he sunk onto a sofa.

  “And she knows how to deal with it,” Tela said as she sat next to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders gently. “Besides, despite your doubts, I share her faith: God cares about what happens to us and has plans for our good.”

  “I never knew what it was like to have a father,” Davi said, turning away. “There’s nothing I want more than to have him here with us.”

  “If it’s God’s will, it will happen,” Tela said, placing her soft hand on his arm.

  Davi turned, his eyes meeting hers. “Okay, I know you believe that, but it’s not so easy for me. I can’t bear to have her hoping I’ll get my father back, because if it doesn’t happen, it’ll break her heart. I don’t
want to be responsible for that.”

  “You aren’t,” Tela said reassuring him, her eyes showed conviction as she nodded with the words. “I want my father back, too, but it’s in God’s hands.”

  “We could have lost two pilots today, maybe even three if Virun wasn’t so skilled,” Davi said. “I’m responsible for those people.”

  “In a way, yes, but they’re responsible for themselves, too,” Tela said. “You didn’t force them to fight. They chose to. A leader can only do so much to protect his followers.”

  “How many pilots can we afford to lose?” Davi said, pain pounding inside him.

  “Loss is a part of living, and we’re at war,” Tela said. “I wish I had a better, happier answer for you, but I don’t.”

  Davi nodded, turning away. “I don’t want to let everyone down.”

  Tela rested her head on his shoulder, her voice filled with compassion and pride. “You’ve never let me down. You’re a great teacher, a great leader, and a great friend. You gave up your whole life, everything you knew because you saw an unjust situation and wanted to do the right thing. I don’t know if I could ever do that.”

  “I did it because these are my people,” Davi said. “And because once I knew the truth, I had to do what was right, no matter what it cost.”

  “And I admire that so much,” Tela said. “I can’t imagine how hard it is. The Boralians are your people, too. You lived among them twenty years. They will always be a part of you.”

  Davi took her hand from his shoulder and held it in his, staring into her eyes. “Are you trying to depress me?”

  Tela laughed. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. The best part of them is a part of you, not the worst.”

  “How can you be so sure? They trained me. They educated me. I never gave the workers a second thought until I ended up on Vertullis.” Davi felt moved by her faith in him. “I spent years in blissful ignorance living as a prince. I heard rumors, but never cared to investigate them. I never had to.”

  “You didn’t know the situation until you came to Vertullis,” Tela said.

  “I was too busy enjoying the perks of royalty, Tela,” Davi said, turning his eyes away to hide his shame. “If I needed something, all I had to do was ask. The one thing I never asked for was the truth.”

  “And once you knew, you did what you had to. Nothing else matters.”

  He turned back toward her and their eyes met. The sincerity he saw there brought tears welling to the corners of his eyes How could she see so much good in him? After a moment, he sighed, choking back the sadness. “Sometimes I feel like you only see the best in me.”

  “No, I see the worst too, sometimes,” Tela teased. “But overall, you’re a good guy, so why focus on the bad stuff?”

  “And here I was counting on you to make me a better man,” Davi teased.

  “Oh, I’m not done fixing you, don’t worry. But it can wait until we’re past this war,” Tela said, smiling.

  They both laughed, until Davi leaned in and kissed her. She kissed back.

  “You know we’re not alone here, right?” He teased.

  She made a face and punched him on the shoulder. “Keep being a wise guy and you can be,” she said with a mock serious look.

  Davi raised his hands in surrender and she laughed again. “All I know is God is in control, and if we trust Him, things will work out for the best.”

  Davi looked into her eyes. She really believed it. He wanted to believe it, too. He did know that just being near her was healing for him. It helped him cope, helped him to find strength and focus, and he was beginning to depend on it in ways he’d never imagined.

  She locked her eyes on his for a moment, letting the love and concern there soak in and energize them both, then she reached for his hand. “Come on. Your mother’s in there alone. Let’s go give her some company.”

  He accepted her hand and followed her back to the dining room.

  O O O

  “As the days stretch on and our troops experience more and more defeat at the hands of the Resistance, the situation grows more and more dim,” Orson Sterling said from behind a news desk at the Media Corp. bureau. Reporters and support staff bustled behind him in the background as vidscreens lit up with various images on the wall immediately behind his desk. “The public is starting to protest. Many wonder why we’re at war with a people who have not done us harm in many generations.”

  Xalivar shut the vidscreen off before the man-on-the-street interviews began. He’d caught similar reports on every channel. What was wrong with these reporters, stirring up the people to treason? He could understand the average civilian’s ignorance of history, but the news media consisted of people with far more education and intelligence. How could they have forgotten what the workers had done to their people? Did no one still realize these workers were not worthy of respect or even a second thought? Could people have so distanced themselves from history that they were willing to forgive the past and treat the workers as human beings?

  He cracked his neck from side to side and let out a guttural roar. For days, he had been listening to news reports of growing protests and outcry to “let the workers go.” Just thinking about it disgusted him.

  Xalivar cursed Orson Sterling and the rest of the media under his breath, making a mental note to have him investigated and arrested if possible on whatever charges he could manage. He would not be the High Lord Councilor who gave in to such outcries of ignorance. He would never live it down if he did. If the workers achieved the freedom they were demanding, they would come to regret it. They could never be trusted. If left alone, they would return to their old ways. His people may have forgotten the past, but he knew the workers hadn’t. No matter how nice they pretended to be, Xalivar knew what was really going on in their minds. This was a war for the future of his people, and he wasn’t about to let ignorance rule the day.

  The communicator beeped. He stepped to the wall and clicked the button. “Yes?”

  Manaen sounded hesitant. “We are receiving calls about food shortages.”

  “What?” Xalivar screamed and sunk back on the throne in frustration.

  “Several of the minor planets have not received their shipments from Vertullis in the past two weeks,” Manaen explained.

  “Shipments have only been stopped for the three weeks of fighting,” Xalivar said, collecting himself. Transports to Regallis at the far end of the system would take over a month at their fastest speeds. Some should still be in route.

  “The last transports left five days before the fighting started,” Manaen said.

  Xalivar smiled, feeling smug. Aha! So someone is panicking prematurely.

  Then Manaen continued: “But those transports were for Legallis and Tertullis. The last transports for the outer system left two weeks before they did and arrived last week.”

  “So why are they panicking?” Xalivar frowned. “How can they be out of food?”

  “The calls were from Xanthis and Certullis,” Manaen said. Both planets were in the middle of the system. “Their last shipments arrived about the time fighting started. New transports would have left a few days later.”

  Xalivar cursed under his breath. “Order the emergency release of stocks from the royal surplus.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Manaen said, hesitating.

  Xalivar waited for him to speak, hearing the line still open. “What is it?”

  “The Royal surplus didn’t receive a shipment either. We’ll have enough left to feed Legallis for two months,” Manaen said.

  “By then this will all be over,” Xalivar said, clicking off the communicator and returning to his ruminations. Everyone is blowing this out of proportion, my gods! Am I the only rational one left in the Alliance?

  O O O

  Davi’s squadron circled the government center, anxiously awaiting the signal to join the battle raging below. The call had come less than an hour before. The Alliance had launched a major push to recapture the shield. Uzah�
�s army had been engaging the enemy for the past two hours and needed air support.

  As they circled the starport, Davi noticed a line of transports still sitting as they had since the fighting started almost a month before. Some of the food shipments would have begun to spoil by now. He wondered how long it would take for the Alliance to feel the pain of dwindling food supplies. Vertullis supplied eighty percent of the system’s food, along with other key agricultural products. Shipments had been postponed ever since the fighting began.

  As he turned his attention back to the battle, one transport took off. “Looks like the Plutonians are getting their food,” Davi said over the comm-channel.

  “They’re gonna love that on Legallis,” Tela said with a chuckle.

  Since the Plutonians and their antelope were the only lifeforms capable of inhabiting the planet outside the false atmosphere of Alpha Base, they were one of the few alien species in the system with their own governor and council. These leaders reported to the Alliance, along with everyone else, but exercised a unique amount of control over local affairs. An envoy had approached the WFR the previous week, seeking to negotiate a special shipment of food. The WFR leadership knew when word got out of such a shipment, other interested parties would approach them, and such activity would only serve to increase the pressure on the Alliance and work in the WFR’s favor, so the deal had been made.

  As the squadron turned back toward the energy shield control center, Davi’s comm-channel beeped on the combat frequency. “Squadron One, commander,” he responded.

  Davi heard explosions and laser fire in the background as Uzah spoke. “We have enemy fighters coming in from the south and west.”

  “Roger, Ground Leader, we’re on our way,” Davi said, switching back to his squadron channel. “Okay, everyone, incoming enemy fighters. Let’s go occupy them.” He switched to the main combat channel again. “All fighters commence attack. All fighters commence attack.” And then he prayed silently that God would keep his pilots safe.

  Davi switched on his targeting system and turned his shields on full, increasing speed. As the pressure pushed him against his seat, he counted several squads of Alliance fighters approaching the shield control center, probably all the fighters they still had available. This might be the chance they’d been looking for to eliminate them.