Circle's End

by Lisanne Norman

  “Ah,” said M’Nar, for once almost speechless as he looked at the swirling and dancing swarm.

  “Sure I am that the Sholan Brotherhood will also be wanting more of the MUTACs for their own use. I believe we have all added a very useful heavy weapon to our peoples’ armories, yes, indeed.”

  “Thank you, Toueesut,” said Jerenn, finding his voice at last. “It will be good to see her as a major resource, not only for Shola, but for you.”

  M’Nar turned his attention back to Jurrel. “She needs cleaning,” he said. “You got her dirty, so you can help clean her up. We’ll need large brushes and an environmentally safe detergent. Meet us at the riverside two hours after first meal.”

  “Aw c’mon, M’Nar,” said Jurrel, ears flattening. “I just got back from a mission!”

  “You know the rules: clean up the equipment you used as soon as you can,” said M’Nar firmly. “We’ll help, but I want you there, too.”

  “And I thought you guys would be different,” huffed Jurrel as he lowered the MUTAC to a crouch and powered her down before opening the hatch.

  M’zull, Palace, Zhal-Ghyakulla 13th (June)

  K’hedduk had attached Kusac to his staff, using him to perform sometimes menial errands for him, mainly taking messages between the Generals. They were jobs that could easily have been done either by a messenger, or by using the communicators. Forced to put a good face on it, Kusac was finding it very trying. As he returned from the latest message delivery, one asking General Chaikul to ready a detailed report on what was currently being salvaged from J’kirtikk, he was crossing the main courtyard when he received a message from Rezac.

  “Well, as I live and breathe, is that Nayash’s son over there?” the words boomed out, accompanied by a mental call. Hey, it’s me, Rezac!

  Kusac stopped dead and turned to look at the older Valtegan bearing down on him. Rezac? he sent.

  The one and only. “It is Nayash, isn’t it? I thought I recognized you. I knew your father. Sorry to hear he’d passed away. Tragic, tragic. Oh, you may not know me, Lorishuk is the name.” He took Kusac’s hand and began pumping it up and down enthusiastically.

  “Lord Lorishuk,” said Kusac. “A pleasure to meet you. How have you been?”

  “Been better. It’s that cursed planet J’kirtikk. Just got back from there. Too damned quiet, not a sound anywhere, just dead bodies and the broken machines. Downright spooky it is.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. You’ll be glad to be back on M’zull, then.”

  “Very glad. Time to catch up with everyone. Talking of which, you can bring me up to speed on the Court gossip, can’t you? I hear as how you’re a special aide to his Majesty, May Long Life be His.”

  “Long Life,” echoed Kusac. “I don’t know that I know much about the Court gossip, but you’re welcome to what I do know. Would you like to come back to my apartment, share a cup or two of maush?”

  “Very kind of you to invite me,” said the other. “A nice hot maush would hit the spot right now.”

  “Then come with me,” said Kusac, trying not to laugh at the picture of the bluff older male that Rezac was portraying so well.

  So how’s it going? Have his staff accepted you? Kusac asked.

  Only a little confusion from his Steward, but given he’s been on the hell planet for about two months straight, everyone is giving him lots of slack. And yeah, he was as bluff as I’m portraying. Your initial reading of him was a little too mild.

  “Did you hear about the explosion at one of the city’s major wineries last night?” asked Kusac. “I heard that it was completely destroyed.”

  Is it safe to discuss this? Rezac sent. “Not only that, they left leaflets again.”

  “Zsadhi ones? What did they say?” Yes, everyone is talking about it now. We’d be unusual if we didn’t.

  “No one knows because the Inquisition were there before anyone else and had them all picked up and destroyed.”

  “Who do you think is behind these attacks?”

  “Has to be the officer caste since the other castes can’t act against anyone else. And if it’s officers, you can bet some Generals have their fingers in it,” said Rezac. “It’ll be revealing to see who doesn’t get their holdings hit.”

  “You have a point,” said Kusac thoughtfully as they approached his apartment door. “I think I’ll start keeping a list of who gets hit, and who doesn’t.”

  “So far, it’s been a chapel, a brewery, and a winery—things that keep the masses and the elite happy, nothing vital to our war effort,” said Rezac, as he followed Kusac in.

  “It hits morale, though, and that can be damaging to everything and everyone.”

  “Enough of that. Let’s talk of more pleasant things. I hear there’s to be a music recital tomorrow evening. Are you going?”

  Kusac opened the door to his office and showed Rezac in. Going to his desk, he hit the intercom to ask Laazif to have fresh maush and some sweet pastries brought. Then he pulled out the gadget they used to check for monitoring devices.

  “So far, so good,” said Kusac, heading back toward the oval table and pulling out one of the dining chairs. “It seems that everyone accepts you as Lorishuk.”

  Rezac sat down beside him. “I’m lucky, he’s not an unkind Lord. No nasty habits to gloss over, unlike your Nayash.”

  “How did your raid go last night? I know it was successful, but any problems at all?”

  “None. It was easier to get past these M’zullians than it was to get past the Valtegans in my time.”

  “Here you aren’t part of a captive population that is expected to be rebelling,” Kusac pointed out. “They weren’t expecting any more attacks. They will be now, so from now on it will only get more hazardous.”

  “Agreed, but it’s a risk we have to take. Talking of risks, how is Mahzi working out?”

  “She’s turned out to be a lot more savvy than we thought. Talking to the other females at the weekly harem sessions has taught her a lot about how well off she is with me, compared to the others. She’s being most circumspect and is proving to be a godsend at getting useful gossip from the harem females. It’s as good as having a spy in all the top courtiers’ and Generals’ homes. I know which ones favor K’hedduk and which want to take him down and have a military ruler instead. None like the Inquisitors. All this gives me bargaining points to play the Generals and K’hedduk against each other.”

  “Useful information, indeed. How goes your problem with Inquisitor Ziosh?”

  “He waves his hands about, hisses and threatens me, but there is nothing he can really do. Right now, despite marrying Mahzi in the village, I’m K’hedduk’s favorite and can do no wrong with anyone else, so Ziosh’s complaints will only endear me more to K’hedduk. I do have a surprise, though. Today Roymar returned from his trip to the village with Shazzuk. He’s wanting to learn to be a soldier. I’ve sent them out to the barracks on the estate to do some training with M’yikku.”

  “That’s unusual. Can he learn enough that’s valuable in a few weeks? Isn’t he more useful to us all in the village?”

  “I’m planning to send M’yikku back there with Roymar after a couple of days. They can then start training up some of the other willing villagers. Once they’ve established a good routine, then M’yikku can return. Who knows—they may come in useful.”

  “By the way I have used the antidote on myself and my team but without telling them about it. Figured I’d leave it to ask you what you want said to them,” said Rezac.

  “I’ve still got it to do. I suppose I should do it sooner rather than later. Explanations are the last thing to worry about right now. Oh, I forgot to tell you, Annuur came by last night with six morphing units for us to test. I sent them on to Kaid at the mountain den. Haven’t heard back from him about them yet. Annuur says they last for six hours on their people, but they
have to wear them all the time they are morphed.”

  “That’s terrific news! If they keep their scent concealing suits on when morphed, then if they change back too soon, at least their scents will be masked,” said Rezac.

  “The plan is if they morph back to Sholan or Prime females, they hit the translocator and go straight to the den. We should all do some drills with that, so if we need to use it, we get it right first time. Hush, Laazif is coming.”

  Ghioass, same day

  Kuvaa had found the anomaly while she was installing the new safety protocols into Unity to prevent the use of any morphing devices again. Some unauthorized person was accessing the AI at the same time every day, and she intended to find out who it was. So far, it seemed like the person was no threat to Unity, or to her security for it, but that didn’t mean it would always be so. They weren’t adept at covering their tracks either, so it was like reading footprints in the snow for her. Another strange thing was that this person was leaving information for her to find, information that had led her to discovering how the Entity Vartra had been captured and imprisoned. Right now, she was more intrigued than concerned.

  As she searched Unity, trying to find the entry point that this person was using to access the AI, it seemed as if her searches just got sidelined to nowhere. After this had happened three times, she began to get a sense that Unity itself was trying to keep her from finding out where the point of contact was. Which was ridiculous.

  “Unity, please start a self-diagnosis, checking all essential files, routines, and subroutines,” she said, sure that this would keep it busy long enough for her to locate the access node in peace.

  “Affirmative,” said Unity,

  She found the node within minutes this time and sat back, utterly surprised. The node was on the Prime world, in the pool area. But they’d shut down all nodes in those areas. The only extant ones were now in the lab areas for the use of the TeLaxaudin scientists. So who had put a node there? On impulse, she continued searching the Palace and found two more nodes—one in the library and one in the nursery. The node in the nursery suddenly went active and the form of a young Sholan cub came into view.

  “Who placed those three nodes in the Prime Palace, Unity?” she asked sharply.

  I did, Councillor Kuvaa, said Unity. You wanted information about the Sholan cubs, so I put nodes where I knew they frequented so I could watch them.

  “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

  You did, Councillor. I cannot place nodes anywhere myself; my protocols prevent that.

  She hesitated. Unity was right. It had to have been ordered to place the nodes by someone, and since she was the one working most on it at the present, likely she had asked it to monitor the cubs.

  “This cub is not being monitored, it is accessing you,” she said. “How is that possible, Unity?”

  The cub sensed me and began talking to me. He is a very powerful telepath, Councillor, and was able to bypass the protocols you set to prevent someone like him accessing me.

  “How many others can do this, or have done this?” she demanded with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. If this cub could do it, who else could?

  No one, Councillor. He can only do it because he sensed my nodes to start with.

  “Which Hunter cub is this?” she asked, feeling she already knew the answer.

  It’s Shaidan, the son of Hunter Kusac and his mate Carrie.

  That explained a lot. The Hunter had discovered much about their purpose, and what he didn’t know, Agent Annuur had been advised to tell him. If the cub was anywhere near as powerful a telepath as his parents, no wonder he had found the nodes and initiated contact with Unity. It had to be that way; after all, the opposite—that Unity had initiated the contact—was unthinkable.

  She sat back, listening to the cub and the AI converse as he asked for information on a range of topics from martial arts to the physics of knife throwing. Relief flooded through her. Shaidan was merely using Unity as an encyclopedia, nothing more. She had no need to worry.

  M’zull, Palace, Zhal-Ghyakulla 16th (June)

  As Kusac was gathering his papers at the end of the Council meeting, one of K’hedduk’s aides approached him with instructions to join the Emperor in his office. There, he was invited to sit beside his desk.

  “Have you noticed any signs of dissent among the Court because of the Zsadhi attacks?” K’hedduk demanded without preamble.

  “It’s certainly a major topic of conversation,” said Kusac. “Everyone is talking about the attacks.”

  “What are they saying? Who do they see as responsible for them?”

  “Many are speculating on who would be carrying out the attacks, obviously, and the main possible culprit seems to be people from the officer caste since the lower castes are incapable of acting against their superiors or another caste.”

  “It’s too easy a target, too obvious,” said K’hedduk. “There has to be more to it than that.”

  “Some think that there is a General or Generals at the back of it, and it’s a plot to destabilize your rule, Majesty,” said Kusac diffidently. “I think it’s possible, but again, somewhat obvious.”

  “What about out in the city? What do the workers think about this? It’s hitting them as well when the breweries get attacked. At least we’re getting the leaflets collected before they are distributed. Have you seen them? They are divisive and scurrilous!” He pulled open a drawer and virtually threw a leaflet across the desk at Kusac. “Read it for yourself!”

  Zsadhi was written at the top in large letters. Below it was a drawing of the sword, and across it had been written the message—“As he came in the past, he comes now to fight oppression. Your officers live in luxury while you toil in dirt! Rebel now!”

  Kusac handed it back, impressed, but keeping that to himself. “Rather a wasted effort, surely. The workers can’t rebel because they’re genetically bred to respect the scent marks of all the military castes.”

  “They can still challenge their superiors for their jobs; all the castes can do that. If they do, we’ll have chaos on the streets as no one will know their place anymore!”

  “It isn’t that bad, is it, Majesty? Aren’t your advisers just giving you the worst possible scenarios so as to cover their butts if everything goes wrong?”

  “No, they’re actually being accurate,” said K’hedduk, sitting back in his chair. “Zerdish has people out there, listening to the mood of the workers. There is some muttering among them, and I need to know if it’s about to escalate. I rely on you to keep me informed of the mood at Court. See if you can find out if one of the Generals is behind this.”

  “I’m already keeping records on which estates are being hit to compile a list of possible sympathizers or leaders of this movement. We really need to know where they meet and who is carrying out the raids, and infiltrate them.”

  “Then get onto that, Nayash. Use any resources you need. Just talk to Zerdish and tell him what you require,” said K’hedduk, picking up a sheaf of papers to let Kusac know the interview was over.

  “Yes, Majesty. Long Life and Health to you,” he said, getting to his feet and slowly bowing his way backward to the door.

  M’zull Palace, the harem

  The Palace harem was not just where the females kept by K’hedduk to entertain his guests were housed. Like its more exclusive counterpart, the Emperor’s seraglio, the females there didn’t just lead pampered lives, they were expected to learn skills that they would use to beautify themselves and their surroundings, and to entertain their Lord. Embroidery was one such, as were dancing and singing. They were to entertain their Lord while he was eating, perhaps even his guests, too, with their accomplished voices and dancing. It was to this end that Keshti was educating the females of the Court, even though they were rarely, if ever, seen outside their homes apart from their sessions with him in
the Palace harem.

  Mahzi settled herself next to Neeshou, another mountain lass like herself. The other five were from far away Ch’almuth, and she had little in common with them. Neeshou had been coming here for a year or two and was very adept at embroidery, so Keshti relied on her to help Resho, the head female drone, to teach some of the others while he put them, one at a time, through their paces with the dance lessons. Some of the dances he taught them used two people and it was fun to learn those, Mahzi thought.

  “Good day to you,” she said quietly, as she settled herself at the other female’s side. “How has your week been?”

  Neeshou turned a tense face to her. “Not too good,” she whispered. “The General, my husband, lost his winery last night. It was the Zsadhi again. I ran and hid from his anger it was so great.”

  “What did the leaflets say this time?”

  “That we live in luxury and they toil in the dirt. It’s true, we do, but I’d give anything to go back home again!”

  “Neeshou,” came Resho’s warning voice. “It’s not for you to discuss things like that. You are a trophy wife now, and you must always think and behave as one. It’s for the males to worry about things outside the harem, not us.”

  “Yes, Resho,” she said quietly.

  “Why should we be silent about this? It affects us, too!” said Mahzi.

  “What happens outside is not our consideration,” said Resho firmly. “If you continue to talk about it, I will have you sent home and a report made to Lord Nayash. We’ll see if he’s at all tolerant about your behavior!”

  Mahzi subsided and went to get her sewing from the basket beside Resho.

  “What does this Zsadhi want, Resho?” asked one of the others.

  “If he exists, he wants anarchy, Dershul. To overturn the accepted way of doing things that we have now would bring nothing but anarchy. Don’t think any males are going to free you and let you return to your birth homes; they won’t. They’ll just keep you for themselves, and you won’t have one master to keep happy; you’ll have many! You’re far better off now than you could ever be under any other way of life.”