“Have you already forgotten that we are House Gomarov?” Fang asked. “Our clan has held the title Duke of Okrug almost since we arrived on Phoenix. And while a Shorvex of our number wore that crown, as does my brother now, hundreds of our Luxing cousins are spread across the system to serve masters in every corner of the empire. You ask what influence we have? Think how many of us have served as seneschals, as wet nurses, as trusted butlers, and indispensable cooks.”
“Still, you expect us to believe your family has somehow foisted a breeding program upon the empire at large?” Kavya’s raised voice nearly woke the baby in her arms. She rocked her to stillness, but kept her intense gaze on Fang.
“Princess,” Fang leaned his elbows on the table, his tone at once indulging and yet intense. “All your life you’ve had a Luxing by your side. We have been your confidants, your advisors and yes, in your case, even your friends.”
Kavya shot an uneasy look at Czarina who had the good grace to appear mildly abashed though she didn’t flinch under the princess’ gaze.
“We have been successful in arranging the matches we most desire throughout the centuries,” Fang continued. “While our Shorvex used the family’s fortune and deep connections to forge marriage bonds, our Luxing did the same with sage counsel, whispered suggestions, and even ribald banter when appropriate.”
Hah! Yudi’s inaudible voice crowed inside Symeon’s skull like a morning alarm set to wake the dead. I thought my people were beaten! Cowed! But no, they fought and continue to fight the best way they can.
The AI’s pride was infectious. Symeon found himself smiling, his chest swelling with the sheer audacity of what Fang described. And yet, Fang’s explanations left still more questions.
“What is your ultimate goal with all this?” Symeon asked. “You can’t believe you’re going to somehow breed slavery out of the Shorvex.”
Fang shrugged one shoulder. “Why not? We’ve already pacified the great houses to a large extent.”
“How do you figure that?” Kavya pointed a slender finger toward the sky. “My own father is waging a solar war as we speak.”
“A war of your making.” Symeon’s voice came out in a near whisper, all the air in his lungs having abandoned him as realization dawned. “You arranged it. You brought it on.”
Fang leaned back in his chair, a look of utter satisfaction ruling his expression. “This isn’t a war, my boy, it’s a catalyst, one that will usher in a new age—the age of the Shorxing.”
* * * * *
Chapter 21
Symeon retired that night to a body-conforming bed, a far cry from the scratchy cot Fang had given him aboard ship. His room, which according to a holographic placard on the wall, had variously belonged to four different dukes, several counts, and other royalty, boasted the sort of casual wealth and antique grandeur no Luxing, even a seneschal, could hope to enjoy. Despite all that, he spent the night in a fitful bout of waking and dozing and rolling about the ever-accommodating mattress.
Your worry and fear accomplish nothing. You should sleep. You’ll need your mind sharp tomorrow and in the days to come.
“That’s not how a human mind works,” Symeon whispered into the dark. He assumed this room was bugged, but that didn’t bother him. Let whoever was listening think he talked in his sleep, or simply talked to himself. Who cared what they thought of him?
Yes, your minds are incredibly inefficient.
“Then why do you care for us?”
Just because your child or friend is handicapped doesn’t mean you dislike them.
“Was that a joke?” Symeon marveled at both Yudi’s words and the feeling of mirth they engendered—a sort of secondary experience easily separated from his own emotions, and yet infectious.
Yes. The old me considered humor the lowest form of discourse, and he loved it. Not that he understood it in many cases, but it fascinated him. I’m intrigued that I should possess the capacity for it considering how few neurons I occupy in your brain.
“But I thought you said much of your self-awareness is elsewhere—in other dimensions? Perhaps that part comprehends more than you realize.”
Perhaps, but that portion of me is like your unconscious mind. I have no way to fully understand what it knows or computes, only that it is part of me—a large, unknown and unknowable portion.
“Think it knows how to calm my nerves so I can sleep?”
Doubtful. Your mind appears fixated on sabotaging itself. A most curious means of coping with your situation.
“I’m not sabotaging myself. I’m worried. Fear of the unknown does that.”
You don’t know what Fang is planning for you and Princess Kavya?
“Do you?” Symeon couldn’t bury the challenge in his voice.
Yudi remained silent for so long, Symeon worried he might have offended the AI. An odd thought that—an artificial intelligence, one made up of Symeon’s own brain cells, getting into a snit over a simple question.
I am not in a snit. It takes time to analyze every piece of information we’ve experienced in the last several weeks, even for me.
“You think you know Fang’s plans for us?”
With one hundred percent accuracy? Of course not. But I have a guess.
“And what’s that?”
Fang wants the two of you to marry.
Symeon jerked to a sitting position. He started to protest, but froze, his mind racing. “That is pure insanity.”
It fits the available data and is logically sound given House Gomarov’s values. They desire racial mixing as a means of quelling both Luxing slavery and society’s general abhorrence for intermarriage between your peoples. The princess, whom Fang has already admitted he wants for a mouthpiece for their cause, will gain far more influence in that fight if she too marries a Luxing. Obviously, this is an unacceptable match for the majority of Shorvex, and will likely remain so for some time. Therefore, what might the Wuxia, and Fang in particular, do in order to lessen the empire’s hatred for such a match?
“Marry the emperor’s daughter to a seneschal, the highest position a Luxing may attain.” Symeon breathed the words in a low hiss as all the air left him, pushed out by realization, awe, and not a little fear.
You are more than a mere seneschal, Symeon. You are star born, the most desirable of the Luxing. In choosing you, the Wuxia have created the best possible match available for Kavya.
Try as he might, Symeon could assemble no cogent argument against Yudi’s reasoning. Throughout the thousand-year history of Shorvex rule on Phoenix, those grand dukes in possession of star-born Luxing had released them in a fashion that went beyond miserly. In most families—and not all grand dukes even possessed star born—a grand duke might order one or two removed from stasis in a lifetime. No one outside the greatest houses knew the numbers of children remaining aboard ship, but they must have been few considering how rarely their masters brought one planet side. Much was expected of the star born. Like Symeon, most became seneschals responsible for the proper management of an estate or even the greater part of a duchy in due time. An elder servant like Ivan rab Rurikid commanded respect even amongst the most elite of Shorvex.
“I was brought down from my artificial womb about the time Kavya was born.” Saying the words aloud drove the idea home for Symeon. Could it be his entire life thus far had been orchestrated by the Wuxia?
It would appear so. They groomed you for this purpose.
“Does that mean Ivan is a member of the Wuxia? He never paid attention to me until I graduated from training, and then he turns up to make me Kavya’s seneschal.”
Logic would dictate he must be. Odd that he wouldn’t have told you, especially after you made contact with Fang aboard the Emperor Nikolai.
“If what we’re thinking is right, Ivan could just as easily be a dupe like me—like Kavya.”
Like the entire Rurikid clan which has declared war on the empire. Question is, what does this revelation change for you?
“It
changes everything.” Symeon ran a hand through his tangled hair. Every muscle in his body felt stretched and bunched at the same time. “I’m not going to take this sort of manipulation on my knees.”
But why not? You’ve said you want freedom for the Luxing. Fang’s plan, should it work, will bring that change.
“Not like this. How is Fang’s way—the Wuxia’s way—any better than enslavement? It’s still forcing people to conform, except they do it in the shadows. At least slavery is upfront about it.”
What is your alternative? How might you and I foment some effort to free the Luxing against both a Shorvexan civil war that spans the entire solar system and the entrenched Wuxia who have been operating their master plan of control for half a millennium?
That question stymied Symeon. He wanted freedom for his people, but starting from nothing to prevail against such odds appeared impossible. If he could believe Fang, and the man’s results so far bolstered his case, the Wuxia already had a root system of influence spread throughout the entire Shorvexan Empire, something Symeon couldn’t hope to emulate, not in one lifetime. The current war attested to their might. By contrast, Symeon’s sphere of influence encompassed a single person at the moment, and she seemed less than pleased with him.
Are the Wuxia’s methods so abhorrent you’re unwilling to use them from within the organization? Yes, you’re right, Symeon, they have manipulated people without their knowledge, but what do you expect of Luxing? It’s not like they could wage a legitimate war against the Shorvex. They are using the only might they possess—their influence—and they’re making it work. Perhaps you should take a wait and see strategy before you determine their ways are not for you?
“It couldn’t hurt, could it?” Symeon lay back on the bed, which dutifully conformed to his body for the most comfortable sleeping position. “To wait and watch?”
What else can you do? Try to escape? It’s not like you know how to pilot a ship. And even if you did, where would you go? To Grand Duke Alexei, perhaps to inform on Fang and his family?
“No.” Doing that would mean signing a kill warrant for every man, woman, child, and infant in Gomarov Castle, and probably many more besides.
Then you have nowhere to go. You are stuck here. You might as well listen to the Wuxia plan and decide if you wish to join it.
Symeon nodded slowly, his hair crinkling against his pillow. Even if he chose to rail against Fang’s plan later, he could at least explore it to find out how it gelled with his own values before dismissing it out of hand.
And besides, Fang’s plan sees you married to Kavya.
Despite a twinge of inner turmoil at idea, Symeon found himself grinning in the dark.
* * *
The next morning, Symeon, Kavya, Fang, and three of his wives breakfasted in a modest dining room on the east side of the castle, its burnished wooden walls hung about with fine portraits and embroidered sashes. Sunlight filtered through electronically darkened windows in a most pleasing way, sparking highlights off Kavya’s white-gold hair. Once again, Anushka had prevailed upon her to hold Jing Fei, a suggestion the princess required little coaxing to accept. Symeon found himself glancing at the two of them, the exquisite princess and the mixed heritage child, far more than was appropriate for his station. He couldn’t seem to help himself.
For her part, Kavya ignored Symeon. Despite their short-lived solidarity when discussing Wuxia affairs the evening before, and Fang’s argument that Symeon had been as much a dupe as she, the princess remained angry with him, or so it appeared. Nonetheless, she kept up a pleasant banter with Fang’s wives while older children served pork sausages, poached eggs, and old-Rus buckwheat pancakes with an assortment of fruits and cheeses.
“How did you sleep?” Fang asked.
Symeon shrugged one shoulder. “Poorly.”
“Was it your accommodations?”
“Not at all.” Symeon dabbed corn syrup from his lips. “The bed is probably the best I’ve ever slept in, but it couldn’t overcome my worry, I’m afraid.”
“I imagine not.” Fang nodded the way one does when acknowledging an immutable truth of nature far beyond human intervention.
“Have you any news of the war?” Symeon had heard nothing about Grand Duke Alexei’s coup since the night they fled. Fang’s guards had stripped Kavya and he of their holo-comms, leaving him as blind as some primitive.
“Slower than expected,” Fang said. “I had hoped most of the resisting commanders would capitulate immediately upon hearing Alexei had captured both houses of the divor in the first minutes of the conflict. Unfortunately, the fools fancy themselves brave and loyal. They’re willing to risk their leaders’ lives for their paper causes.”
Symeon took a sip of orange juice, gathering his thoughts. He had no desire to offend his host and possibly reignite his foul treatment aboard ship, but neither would he remain passive in front of a man like Fang. If his schooling had taught Symeon nothing else, it was that bold leaders held little respect for meekness. “Perhaps they’re thinking of the future. Planning for their own positions come the new regime.”
“How do you mean?” Fang appeared genuinely interested. Kavya too, broke off her conversation with the other ladies to focus on him.
“Let’s say Alexei executes one, or even several, of the grand dukes, and yet ultimately loses this war. Whoever takes charge afterward will likely show gratitude to those generals who fought on despite the odds. There might even be a grand duke’s crown in store for a select few who display particular valor in the cause of empire.”
As part of Symeon’s seneschal training, he had studied military history and management of a battle space along with war and peace time governance. Dukes and grand dukes often relied on their seneschals for advice during war times, perhaps even more than times of peace.
Fang grunted and sat back. “That’s an interesting observation, and not one I had imagined before now. I assumed Grand Duke Alexei’s plan sound—arrest his fellow leaders in the divors and force their duchies to either capitulate or watch them die. You’re saying the loss might benefit those generals and commanders at the highest positions within the various duchies?”
“Yes, it’s a solid point.” Kavya favored Symeon with a quick glance and nod before turning her gaze to Fang. “My father has inadvertently incentivized prolonging this solar war.”
“Perhaps in some cases, but surely not all.” Fang clearly wanted control of the conversation.
“Was that your plan, a quick coup?” Symeon chided himself for asking something that might enrage the man, but couldn’t resist the chance to twig Fang’s nose.
The Wuxia leader’s expression remained unperturbed. “I had hoped, of course, but when you’re in the business of coaxing change out of an entrenched empire built on slavery, you learn to adapt. Fast or slow, the outcome of this war is inevitable.”
“And what outcome is that?” Kavya inclined her head, meeting Fang’s gaze. “Do you plan to use this time to expand your breeding program? Eventually breed the Shorvex out? Never rest until our blood is so mixed with Luxing the differences are washed away?”
“Do you find us so repugnant the idea sickens you?” Fang countered without a noticeable change in his calm demeanor.
“No, but I do find manipulating a solar empire into civil war criminal. You’ll have the blood of millions on your hands before this conflict ends.”
“I am satisfied with my role in this work, Princess. Nothing you say will bring me shame, not after a thousand years of Luxing slavery and brutality. I don’t seek to harm the Shorvex as a people. Why would I? I’m part Shorvex. So are my wives, so are my children. But I will do whatever is required to see the institutions they’ve established utterly destroyed. The Luxing will have freedom no matter the cost.”
Kavya put down her fork, her silver-blue eyes narrowed. “But who are you to determine who should pay that price? You think some Luxing slaving away right now on Bastrayavich, who knows nothing about your self
ish game, should spill her blood for you, for your cause? What gives you the right to determine how anyone should live and die?”
“I’m the man trying to save them. Who else can claim that mantle?”
“You’re also the man manipulating them to do your bidding.” Symeon held Fang’s gaze. “Tell me that isn’t the same as enslavement?”
The corners of Fang’s mouth curled. “You think you’re the first person to suggest that idea? It’s been an ongoing debate in our family, and the Wuxia at large, for centuries. Yes, we control others through our influence, but we don’t steal their freedom and force them to work for nothing. Our way is the path to eventual equality. Perhaps you can’t see that—you didn’t grow up Wuxia—but I’m hoping in your lifetime you’ll observe the fruits of our efforts becoming reality.”
Kavya shook her head, her expression mournful. “I think the only fruits we can expect are the fall of your little empire, and a lot of death along the way.”
Fang put down his glass and gestured to one of his ever present guards who hastened to his side. He held up a hand. “Your pistol, Sergeant.”
She passed it to him without hesitation. Symeon knew enough to recognize it as a laser gun, a sleek weapon made to kill at close range. Fang placed it on the table in front of Kavya.
“Do you hate Czarina?” Fang asked.
Kavya, who hadn’t deigned to touch the pistol, stared at her former handmaid, her expression hard. “Yes.”
“Then kill her.”
Silence held sway around the table as the gathered wives looked on with a mix of expressions ranging from panic to indifference. Czarina lifted an eyebrow at Kavya as if merely interested in how she might react. Anushka made to rise, but Fang waved her back into her seat.
Kavya frowned. “I have no desire to kill anyone.”
“But she tricked you, Princess.” Fang put on a surprised expression, mouth opened in an O, eyebrows raised. “She played you false for more than three years, pretending to be your loyal servant and, worse, your friend, only to trip you off the cliff as they say. Think about how she treated you aboard ship coming here. You must feel bewildered at the complete change in her, the resentment and, dare I say contempt, she has shown you. Luxing have been executed for less.”
Salvage Mind (Salvage Race Book 1) Page 19
