by Mike Smith
“How to pick pockets and snatch bags, you mean?” Jessica probed, with a dangerous lilt to her voice.
“Uh, yes,” Granville faltered. “But also mathematics, reading and writing.”
“Helped you keep tally, did he? You know, of all the things that you stole.”
“Only when I was able to drag him away from his books,” Granville groused. “The boy spent every waking hour there, in my library. Couldn’t have been good for him, filling his head with such nonsense. But at least he had the occasional good idea, helped me better organise things around here for one.”
“Organise things?”
“Yes, tradespeople used to pay me a monthly stipend, you know, to provide protection for them. Other businesses, groups or people considered beyond the law, often intimidated them, swindling, robbing, sabotaging or otherwise threatening decent, law-abiding people, who were just trying to make an honest living.”
“I bet you did all three. I believe that the correct term is a protection racket.”
“That’s what Alex called it too. Anyway, he helped me improve and streamline it.”
“Improve upon it? What did he do, send out a survey soliciting customer feedback?” she asked sarcastically.
“No,” Granville shook his head. “He simplified it, by imposing a flat rate of tax on income or gross profit made.”
“A corporation tax?” she hazarded a guess.
“Yes, that’s what he called it. Eventually most of the merchants signed up, those that refused, didn’t stay in business for much longer.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Jessica sighed, finally picking up on Alex’s earlier joke about the irony of calling this man respectable. He was so far from it that even calling him a thief was a misnomer, as it imparted some sense of moral righteousness, which he obviously lacked.
“Probably the spate of fire bombings soon after,” Granville commented after a moment’s thought. “In any case, since then, the level of violent crime has dwindled to almost nothing.”
“Congratulations. It almost sounds legal.”
“Now, no need to be insulting,” Granville said with a hurt expression. “Anyway, the tax is set at forty percent, which is still daylight robbery.”
“I find it somewhat paradoxical,” Jessica snorted, very unladylike. “That Alex is caught stealing, once, and then forever banished from this station. Meanwhile, here you are, blatantly boasting of your criminal exploits. I would hazard a guess that Alex was becoming more than an able partner-in-crime, but a threat to your authority, or was it just your daughter’s virtue that was in peril? At risk of choosing him, over you.”
At this accusation, Granville abruptly stood, turning his back on her. Reaching out with his hands towards the fireplace—which, only at the very last minute, did he realise was no longer there, just a blackened scar against the wall, so instead he shoved his hands in his pockets, clearly ill at ease.
“You cannot possibly imagine,” Granville began earnestly, “what it was like. To wake up one morning and find your life’s work, all you’ve ever accomplished, taken from you. It was only little things at first, how when I gave instructions they would glance his way, as if in confirmation. Soon after that they stopped asking me entirely, instead going to him. But the final straw was my daughter, to one day catch her, staring at him like—”
“Like what?” Jessica prompted, leaning forward intently, unsure why his answer was so important to her.
“Like you do.” Granville turned back to face her. “With a look of such longing and adoration that you hang on his every word. As if you’ve come to revere him, as some sort of divine paragon.”
“That’s not true,” Jessica refuted. “If I look at him, it’s with nothing but affection and respect. For he is decent, compassionate and honourable, unlike you, who is just a jealous, petty, thief.”
“You can lie to yourself as much as you like, but not to me. I’ve met many liars, most far more accomplished than you. You’re already more than half in love with him, and how long have you known him, days, weeks? With my daughter I observed it day-by-day, every day. I knew that if I didn’t do something to put a stop to it, she would be lost to me, forever.”
“So you set him up.”
“Yes, but I didn’t kill him. Although a part of me knew that I should. Even back then he was not the sort of man that you wanted as an enemy. Instead I arranged for him to be caught by a delegation, who were here at the time visiting from High-Lord Stanton. To ease my conscience, I gave him over to them to decide his fate. It seems they gave Alex a choice; death or to enlist. He chose the latter.”
“How honourable of you,” Jessica hissed between clenched teeth. No wonder Alex didn’t trust anybody, why would he? Everybody he’d ever trusted had betrayed him. “And your daughter, what became of her?”
“I’d become aware that Alex had risen in social status, in many ways far higher than I ever could have. He moved in circles that I could only dream of, so I reached out to him, asking him to find a suitable husband for her, titled and rich.”
“And he agreed?” Jessica asked incredulously.
“I offered him suitable recompense for his time and effort.”
“That was considerate of you. I’m surprised that he agreed, knowing your true nature.”
“How blinkered are you?” Granville finally roused himself, having been lost in his thoughts. “That you put him on such a pedestal of noble birth, decency and honesty, yet you know nothing about him, beyond the little titbits of information he’s prepared to divulge. So let me enlighten you to his true nature. Alex is a lying, thieving, murdering bastard. He was born a bastard, will die a bastard and there is a special place in hell that is reserved for people just like him. Unlike me, who fully admits to my faults and am honest about them, Alex is manipulative, always hiding his true nature. He is like a serpent in the grass, hiding, until he is ready to strike and by then it’s far too late.”
“You’re lying. Jealous of what he’s achieved, surpassing even your own accomplishments.”
“Such a vocal defence of a person—one that you don’t even know the name of.”
“I know his name,” Jessica challenged brashly, but inside felt unsure. “Lord Alex Greystone.”
“Rubbish, Alex is no more a Lord than I, just an assumed title, probably one he summoned from thin air.”
“Impossible,” Jessica snapped, confident of at least this one thing. “I grew up in my father’s court, surrounded by Lords and Ladies of every station. Alex is arrogant, insufferable, overbearing and has an over-inflated sense of his own self-importance, of course he’s a Lord, what else could he be?”
“Still, you don’t even know his real name. He won’t tell you and do you know why not? Because there is power in knowing a person’s true name. It gives you a hold over them that they can never break, it reveals something of their inner self. That is why Alex hides it from you, he doesn’t want you knowing who he really is.”
“Fine, and who is he, really?”
“I’ve already told you, he is little, frightened, Alex Grey, but you don’t recognise him, do you?” At this Granville gave her a long, quizzical stare, as if trying to plumb her depths for the truth. “You really don’t know who he is, do you? A name that strikes fear into Lords and Ladies alike, who is despised and hated by them all, yet is considered a hero by almost everybody else. My what a truly sheltered life you’ve lived, then let me enlighten you as to his full name, see if it jogs your memory:
Lieutenant-Colonel Alexander Grey, Commanding Officer, 1st Battalion, 104th Space Marine Regiment, serving under High-Lord William Stanton.”
Jessica could only stare in mute horror. It was like a veil had been lifted from her sight and all the little pieces suddenly seemed to click together, to become one encompassing picture—and it was one of bloody horror.
There couldn’t be a person alive, over the age of ten, that hadn’t heard of Alexander Grey. He was a monster, a larger than life demon
that mothers warned their children about, in hushed whispers, late at night when the candles began to flicker low—do as I say, or Colonel Grey will come for you. He had led a bloody rebellion, an uprising, against High-Lord Stanton. There were revolts that had happened in the past, and likely others would try in the future, but none had ever come as close to succeeding as Colonel Grey. The only reason that he had come so close, where so many others had failed, was because of his monstrous brutality. Thousands had died; men, women and children. All were given the same ultimatum, join him in his crusade, or die. For seven days and seven nights, the streets of Capella had run red, with rivers of blood. In the end he had been defeated, caught and sentenced for his crimes. His life spared only by the leniency of High-Lord Stanton, who’d commuted his death sentence to life imprisonment.
Instead they had found the deepest, darkest pit for him and there, alone, chained to the wall, they had left him to rot.
Jessica only just made it to the corner of the room, before she retched. With eyes closed, she remembered all the times that she’d allowed him to touch her. How many times she’d instigated the contact, how he’d made her feel, like she was on fire, and he alone was able to quench the burning flames.
She dry-heaved again, from the memories alone.
“So much for your brave and honourable knight,” Granville said grimly, as he poured her a glass of water. “You see Alex is just using you, like he’s used everybody else and once he no longer has a need for you, you’ll be discarded like the rest.”
“But why?” Jessica croaked. “What could he possibly want from me?”
“You? Nothing,” Granville said sadly, shaking his head. “He wants nothing more from you, beyond what he’s already taken. It’s never been about you. It’s always been about Stanton and to bring him here. You see on Capella, Stanton is surrounded by an army, where he’s virtually untouchable, so Alex needed to draw him out. You see Alex plans to finish what he started all those years ago, he’s bringing Stanton here—to kill him.”
*****
Over the years Alex had experienced the full gamut of emotions, from complete happiness to utter despair, but never doubt. For doubt lies somewhere between belief and disbelief, and Alex had always believed that one day he and Stanton would meet again and, on that day, either one, or both of them, would die.
It was a belief which had sustained him throughout his long incarceration but, in the past few days, he’d found that belief to be wavering. He could never escape from the mistakes of his past, this he knew with absolute certainty yet, for the first time ever, he considered the possibility of moving on. Starting a new life where nobody knew of his past, and probably cared even less. For perhaps Abercrombie and Sanderson had the right of it, that an angel had fallen from the heavens, straight into his lap and he shouldn’t be so quick to discard it. Now, all he had to do was to convince her of that. He knew that Jessica had some financial troubles, that much was plainly obvious, still he was now a man not entirely without means…
Stepping into their room, without knocking, after all it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen it all before, he came to an abrupt halt. He had been very, very, wrong, when he thought that he’d seen it all before, as he’d obviously seen nothing of the sort. Jessica had her back to him, admiring her reflection in a full length mirror, obviously brought in for that exact purpose. She was wearing an absolutely stunning white silk dress, which was perfectly chosen because it offset her ebony hair, while beautifully matching her flawless white skin. She had obviously taken great care preparing her hair with ivory combs so that the loose strands around her face softened her features with their casual disarray. She wore silk stockings, white silk slippers, but not any jewellery, except for tiny pearl studs in her ears. She didn’t look like any high-born lady that he had ever seen, but instead a princess, straight from the pages of a book of fairy tales.
He was about to comment as such, but the words caught in his throat and all he could do was stare. In that moment the decision was made for him, he didn’t know which gods to thank for delivering her to him, all he knew was that he couldn’t let her go. There was no reason why together they couldn’t just walk away from this, go home and make a new life, a future—
She looked up, obviously alerted to his presence by the opening door and their gazes met in the mirror. All of his hopes and dreams instantly turned to ashes, only to be scattered to the four corners of the universe by the solar winds. It wasn’t that he didn’t recognise her expression, as he was intimately familiar with it. A mixture of disgust, despair, sorrow and anger. He’d seen that look on countless faces before, but never on hers, and he knew with absolute certainty that she knew everything.
“You look ravishing,” he said flippantly, to cover his surprise. “I like what you’ve done with your hair, but did I miss the party invitation? I’m going to have to have words with Sanderson about that.”
“Granville supplied the dress, something about looking the part.”
“Granville, I see,” Alex mused out loud. “I’ll need to discuss that with him and come up with some form of suitable payment. Anyway, I’ve just been informed that your father’s frigate has arrived, he’s currently taking a shuttle over and should be here shortly.”
“Good. I’m looking forward to seeing him again and accompanying him back home.”
“That’s not the only reason I came,” Alex began hesitantly. “I wanted to offer you an, alternative.”
“Alternative?” she asked distractedly, glancing away from the mirrored glass.
Alex bit back a curse, wishing she would turn around and face him, having no desire to have this conversation with her back to him. “Yes, an alternative. I know that you have no desire to marry Stanton, so forget about him. Come with me instead.”
“Just forget him?” Jessica laughed, but there was no humour in her voice, only hurt. “You mean like you already have? As you only mentioned that my father has arrived, but nothing of High-Lord Stanton, he said—”
“You’ve spoken to him?” Alex interrupted sharply.
“Oh yes,” she replied frankly. “He made it clear that he now considers me family. That’s what it means to care for another, to protect them, remember? But perhaps you left something out, for if you care about somebody you should be honest with them, don’t you agree?”
“Yes,” he replied helplessly, as he could already feel her slowly, but surely, slipping away from him.
“Then true, or false. Your real purpose was to bring High-Lord Stanton here.”
“True.”
“You intend to kill him?”
For a moment, he didn’t respond then, very quietly, he said, “True.”
“True or false?” she carried on softly. “You never cared for me at all, I was only a means to an end to get High-Lord Stanton here?”
“Absolutely false, Jessica, I—”
“Oh, Alex,” she said. “If you’ve never lied to me before. Why start now?”
“Jessica, I’m not lying to you. I admit that it was originally my intent, but—”
“Just tell me one thing, all those terrible things they say about you, are they true?”
“What things?”
“That you led an uprising against High-Lord Stanton, which resulted in the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands of innocent men, women and children?”
Alex remained silent.
“That’s what I thought,” she replied sadly. “So the answer to your question is no. I won’t go with you. It’s time that I grew up and accept what duty demands of me, namely to marry High-Lord Stanton and save my family.”
“Fine,” Alex retorted bitterly. “Go with your father. I promised that you would be returned to him safe and well, but don’t marry Stanton. Anybody but him. Go and find some other rich and titled Lord, god only knows there must be enough of them. Have him solve your money worries. Just stay away from Stanton, he is dangerous, in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine.”
“Money worri
es?” Jessica laughed violently. “Money worries are for some labourer worried that he won’t have enough to tide him over until his next pay cheque. My family owes one point two trillion to our creditors. Stanton has agreed to cover the debit in its entirety, once our families are joined.”
“One point two trillion?” Alex replied, appalled. If it helped her reconsider marrying Stanton, he had been prepared to offer her the money from the sale of the necklace. But that amount of money wouldn’t have covered the interest on that debt for more than a few hours. “How can that be possible? Your father is renowned for being fiscally conservative, he doesn’t gamble, has no known vices. The Hadley Corporation is one of the oldest and most powerful. It is also the number one supplier of Alcubierre drives. The profits from that alone must total seventy billion this quarter.”
“I don’t know all the details, only my father does,” Jessica sighed. “All I know is that several new business ventures failed recently and, desperate to cover the losses, he invested in other even more riskier ones. When those failed too, he didn’t have the capital to service the remaining debt. You were not far wrong when you said that High-Lord Stanton outbid the others, he is my family’s last hope. I really have no other choice but to marry him.”
“There must be some other way?”
“There isn’t. At the moment my family is putting on a façade that we have no money problems, for if even a hint of a rumour of our financial plight started, our creditors would demand early repayment of the debt and we would be ruined. I can’t allow you to harm Stanton, he’s all that stands between my family and ruin. I’ll do anything in my power to stop you, even kill you, if that’s what it takes.”
“I understand,” Alex sighed resignedly. “I never had a family, but I do comprehend, better than most, the depths that a person would go to, to protect the ones that they love. I’m glad that I had the opportunity to get to know you, I would have spent the rest of my life regretting not have. I would, however, like to offer you a parting gift, one that you can remember me by. While it cannot match the finery of your new clothes, at least it will compliment them.” With a flourish he presented her the oak carved jewellery box that Angela had given him, opening it to display the pale blue pearl necklace.
