Sarah didn’t answer, and Angelique didn’t tell her that she needed to leave. That much was a foregone conclusion.
The mattress shifted as Sarah rose, and went to get dressed.
After she had gone, Angelique turned over and gazed up at the ceiling through tear soaked eyes.
Trina had ruined Sarah. She had destroyed the woman that Sarah had once been, completely and utterly. For that, she would pay, Angelique promised herself. Not that day, or even any time in the near future, but when she had finally outlived her usefulness.
When that occurred, she intended to reserve the sweet pleasure of exacting justice all for herself. Trina would suffer for a long time, and at her hands. This vow was what finally gave her the strength to rise from the bed.
It took all of her well-schooled reserves of calm and control to force her hurt far enough away to don her uniform once again, and focus on the day’s business. She had important things to consider. Things that eclipsed everything else, even her personal disappointments.
Reentering her office, she walked over to one of the large windows and took a moment to gaze pensively at the busy city below her. When she had allowed Ellen n’Elemay to escape from Bel Sharra, she had worried about which way Sarah would go when the time came. Now, she knew that their old passion would not play a part in Sarah’s ultimate decision. It would have to be made from pragmatism instead. It was a bitter thing to admit, but still an undeniable fact.
It was also a fact that the Conversâzi needed women like Sarah. Although she wasn’t a scion of one of Thermadon’s ruling families like Angelique or many of the other members were, her bearing, her talents, and the excellence of her work, still made her one of the elite. And as distasteful as it was to even contemplate, there was even room in their organization for her ‘little’ companion, Maya--if that was what was needed to convince Sarah to enlist.
Clearly, the girl was nothing better than street-trash; someone who had been elevated well beyond her station by a mere accident of talents. Sarah’s affection for her was wholly inexplicable, and Angelique struggled to understand the nature of their bond.
It wasn’t love, or any form of sexual attraction. She was certain of that much. Instead, their dynamic seemed to be composed of something else entirely, but what that was exactly, remained stubbornly beyond her grasp.
What she did comprehend with absolute clarity, was Sarah’s primary weakness. This was her blind patriotism. As magnificent an agent as she was, the Sisterhood had always commanded her unwavering loyalty, often to the detriment of political necessity, or simple common sense. She hoped that the years had eroded away enough of this hopeless idealism for the woman to see reason when it was finally presented to her.
Meanwhile, time was running short. The Conversâzi’s plans had been set in motion, and they would soon be well past the point of no-return. Sarah would have to join them before that time, or be declared an enemy and destroyed.
Sighing deeply at this unpleasant possibility, Angelique absently fingered her ring and watched the traffic flying by without really seeing it. Finally, her psiever reminded her of her obligations. She had an important appointment to keep.
Intergalactic Mission Complex, Agamede District, Thermadon Val, Thermadon, Myrene System, Thalestris Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1048.10|23|04:59:19
Angelique disembarked from her hoverlimo and walked across the Federal Plaza to the Intergalactic Mission, preparing herself for her meeting with Queen Talaria. The Leader of the Seevaan Chaotic Delegation, and First Heir to the Throne itself, had taken up residence at the Mission. With the vote over inclusion nearing, the member races of the Galactic Collective had dispatched representatives to make their final evaluations, and the Sisterhood had done what every candidate race always had. It had created a place for their guests to live and work in.
Although some native Thermadonians irreverently nicknamed the Mission complex the “Bug House”, the significance of the place was not lost on anyone. The votes, and the advantages that Womankind’s inclusion in the Collective could bring with it, were too important, and the Sisterhood had spared no expense in the construction.
The sprawling edifice was only half complete, but enough of its specialized domes and airlock-controlled passages had been erected to accommodate most of the races that had been dispatched the Thermadon. The wing for the Zeta Reticulans, with its special low-grav habitat was still only a skeleton however, and as far as she was concerned, it could remain that way. The less she had to deal with the Greys, the better.
And if their habitat somehow failed and killed them all, neither she nor her sisters would have mourned their passing. Bel Thana had even been tempted to arrange for just such an accident, but however satisfying this might have been, prudence had always stayed her hand. There were simply too many eyes watching, and too much riding on the vote’s outcome to pander to such a desire. Better to let them come, she thought, and then be forced to watch helplessly as their precious Collective was rendered absurd.
In her hands the Secret would see to that. Regarding the incomplete domes with a scowl, Angelique turned her back on them, and entered the Seevaan habitat. Right away, she observed that their allies had come a long ways since her last visit. Seevaan worker drones had already coated most of its steel passages with the hard translucent resin that they favored in their native hives, and this lent the place an utterly alien air.
Unfortunately, the coating also rendered the floor surfaces rather slick, and she deliberately slowed her pace, placing her boot steps with greater care. The last thing that she needed was to slip and come before Talaria sporting an embarrassing bruise.
A little further in, a Handmaiden greeted her with a deep bow, touching her fore pincers together in respect, and Bel Thana mirrored the gesture. With the formalities observed, the creature turned and scuttled down the hall.
Although the Seevaan could have easily outpaced Bel Thana, the four-legged insectoid expertly measured her gait so that she stayed with her guest without giving the appearance of doing so. The Handmaiden was not only accommodating her, but also avoiding any insult or insinuation of her physical inferiority.
Bel Thana smiled in approval. The Seevaans understood the need for good manners and proper etiquette at all levels of their society.
The Handmaiden guided her to one of the oval doors that seemed to grow out of the sinuous walls of the passage. With a wave of her pincers, the entrance parted fluidly, revealing a huge circular chamber festooned with the same smooth ribbing and delicate lattices found in the hall.
These were on a much grander scale however, and possessed a complexity that no Baroque architect could have ever envisioned without going insane. They were pure, abstract forms, expressing their beauty independent of any recognizable source material.
Queen Talaria waited for her in the midst of this splendor, in the very center of the chamber, and this made Bel Thana smile to herself again. Talaria’s choice of the room, and her placement within it, had both been quite deliberate. The Seevaans were an extremely subtle race, and the Queen knew full well how the chambers organic decorations offset her appearance, making her all the more elegant and imposing in appearance. Talaria was, and always had been, a consummate show woman.
Bel Thana advanced several paces, and then gave her a deep bow, touching her fingers together. “My Lady,” she signed, using the human version of Pincerspeak. “I hope that I find you well?”
“You do,” the Regent replied. “Are you also healthy, my friend?”
“I am indeed,” Angelique responded.
“May you and your hive always thrive, “Talaria said. She gestured towards the chair that had been set there for her use, and Angelique sat. There was a small table next to it, and she waited patiently, knowing what was coming next. The Seevaans loved ritual, and one of these had to be observed before they could address any business.
Right on cue, the Handmaiden who had shown her in, or her exact twin, entered the chamber. Sh
e was carrying a pot of tea and a plate of sweet cakes for their human guest in her fore pincers, and another platter with her secondary ones. This was heaped with delicate hardwoods for her Queen to enjoy. As the trays were set down before them, Angelique helped herself to her tea and the cakes while the Seevaan leader plucked up two of the choicest pieces of wood and consumed them with equal relish.
When they had both finished with their refreshments, Talaria got straight to the heart of their audience with a question. “Tell me, good friend, what news of the Three? Have you come any closer to locating them since last we spoke? Or the location of the Secret itself?”
“No, great Lady,” Angelique answered. “Sadly, Celina remains the only one that we know of. We have yet to find the other two, but I have my most seasoned agents conducting the search. Knowing the quality of their skills, it will not be long before they find them.”
“Very well,” the Seevaan replied. “I trust in your judgment. But remember that the vote for inclusion draws nearer and I must emphasize the need for haste. Once the Secret is in our grasp and the User has been compelled to do our bidding, we will have something truly marvelous to present to the members of the Collective.”
“I look forwards to that great day,” Bel Thana said, toasting the alien regent with her teacup.
Talaria still had no idea how much she actually knew. The Seevaans had tipped their hand from the very outset. Instead of going through conventional channels and approaching the Sisterhood’s government with their problem, they had come to the Conversâzi instead.
They had claimed that the Secret merely represented an opportunity to study more of Drow’voi technology, and that it would broaden their knowledge of temporal and physical modification. They had also promised to reveal their findings, and the existence of the Secret, to their political allies when the time was right.
On the surface this might have seemed credible to anyone. Except Angelique. The simple fact that the Seevaans had sought out her organization, coupled with extravagant promises of advanced technology, had only served to make her suspicious. So she had done what any good agent would have in such a circumstance; she followed up on the story. Aggressively.
Eventually, the Conversâzi had made contact with the Pa’lla, a race that devoted itself to the study of the Drow’voi, and they had provided many of the answers that she had sought. The information had come at great cost, but in the end, it had proven to be worth every credit.
Only a small part of the Seevaan story had turned out to be true. The Secret did exist, and it did offer the chance to understand more about Drow’voi science.
This was only a fraction of what the Secret actually represented though. Its true potential went far beyond mere scientific research, and combined with what she had subsequently learned about Seevaan politics, Queen Talaria’s actual intent had become glaringly obvious.
The Chaotics were not the docile members of the Great Hive that they pretended to be. Tired of their station in life, and with the Collective itself, they wanted nothing less than to overturn the Seevaan Empress, and rule the galaxy. To manage such an immense feat, Talaria and her followers needed a decisive edge, and the Secret had offered this to them in abundance. To get their pincers on it however, they needed human cooperation—and human ignorance.
On that score, their efforts had failed, but Angelique had no intention of enlightening them. For the moment, she would continue to pretend to believe in the fairy tale Queen Talaria was telling her, and play the part of the good little client. In the end, it would be the Conversâzi, and herself as its leader, who would seize control of the Secret, and the Seevaans would become the subordinate race. Right along with every other being that made up the Galactic Collective.
The very notion of such a glorious change of fortunes seemed to lend sweetness to her tea, and she brought her cup to her lips and drank deeply.
Residence of Angelique bel Thana, Themiscrya Tower, 898th Floor, Agamede District, Thermadon Val, Thermadon, Myrene System, Thalestris Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1048.10|24|07:50:21
Only a day after their abortive tryst, Sarah received a formal invitation from Angelique to attend a private party at her residence. There was no question about accepting it.
Bel Thana’s home was located in the elite Themiscrya Tower, just a few floors below the penthouse of Senatrix n’Calysher herself. A servant met them in its private hover-garage, and her appearance puzzled Maya. Despite the opulence that surrounded them, the woman was attired in a plain grey uniform, and she wore no make-up, or adornment of any kind. This was not what Maya had expected to see with a staff member of such an elite residence.
It was only when they were shown inside by another equally unattractive retainer that she realized the true intent behind their bland attire. Bel Thana didn’t want anyone else to outshine her. Even her servants.
Angelique herself had shed her severe black uniform for a long dress dyed in a rich red-orange, and offset this with expensive golden jewelry. She had also let down her hair, which fell past the small of her back in long lustrous waves. And although she was wearing make-up, it was only enough to call attention to her otherwise faultless features.
Experiencing a fresh wave of loathing for the woman, and feeling quite shabby by comparison, Maya stood by as Angelique greeted Sarah with a pair of kisses to her cheek. Then she was forced to submit to the same ordeal, albeit more superficially.
“The others have only been here a little while,” Bel Thana said, “so you’re just in time for tonight’s little diversion.”
“Oh?” Sarah asked.
“A small thing,” Angelique replied with an airy wave of her slender hand. “A private exhibition of some local artists. I’m certain that you’ll find it enjoyable.”
Sarah nodded approvingly, and as Angelique linked arms with her, Maya fell in step behind and followed them in.
Unlike her sterile workplace, Angelique’s residence was warm and intimate, and paneled throughout in expensive Nemesian hardwoods. Maya’s feet fell on thick, ornate carpeting, and traces of an expensive Kalian incense laced the air all around her, only strengthening the overall sense of luxury and sensuality. Every corner of the place seemed to offer something to delight the eye, or please the senses. It was, in its entirety, a faithful reflection of its mistress, and nothing less than the home of a modern noblewoman. Felecia, she realized, would have felt quite at ease there. She however, felt completely out of place.
It will be just like our dinner aboard the Star of Aphrodite, Sarah thought to her privately. Don’t let these women intimidate you, and simply follow my example.
Maya gave her a small, tight smile as they entered the living area, and vowed to soldier through the evening as best she could.
Her fellow guests didn’t make this an easy task. Like Angelique, they were all flawless examples of Thermadon’s elite; as sleek and as beautiful as Bel Thana, just as elegantly dressed and just as disgustingly comfortable with their surroundings. The very sum of what Thermadon’s genetic engineering had to offer its ruling class, they were all perfect, and they knew it. Two of them, a statuesque blond roughly Maya’s own age, and an equally graceful brunette, rose from the seating area, and floated over. They bowed to Sarah and then to her.
“My sisters,” Angelique explained. “Silvi and Josette.”
“Enshón’” Silvi said. “We have heard so much about you, Sarah. A true pleasure.”
Sarah returned her bow, and indicated Maya. “This is my associate, Maya n’Kaaryn”
“N’Kaayrn?” Silvi asked. “I don’t think I’ve heard of your family. Are your people from off planet perhaps?” The way she said ‘off planet’ clearly conveyed that she had intended the term in the lower case.
Maya caught the insult, and bristled. “They were from Durga,” she replied. “On the frontier with the Xee.” It was the plain truth, and she instantly regretted revealing it.
“A fringe world then?” Josette seemed truly astonished
at the idea—and the notion that anything of value could reside in such a remote and desolate place.
“Yes.”
“Tell us, what did your mothers do on Durga?”
“They were Hydraulics Engineers,” Maya answered, feeling a hot flush of shame and then, anger. It was just a fact, she told herself, and for all their shortcomings as people, and as a couple, what they had done had been honorable, and valuable.
“Oh,” Silvi smiled, “How delightfully rustic.” She and Josette laughed. Maya couldn’t help but note that Silvi’s teeth were just as impeccable as the rest of her, and she suddenly entertained the image of her fist forcefully rearranging them. Oddly, Silvi’s beautiful smile only widened, as if she had somehow overheard this, and found it amusing.
In fact, she had.
Have a care, Sarah warned her on their private psiever channel. These two are not the spoiled little brats they seem to be. They are agents—and if you give them cause, you may find yourself dealing with far more dangerous opponents than you bargained for. In fact, with the exception of the staff, all of the women here are agents. I know many of them personally.
Maya’s surprise must have registered on her features, because Silvi bel Thana gave her a small confident nod, wordlessly acknowledging Sarah’s caution.
Thoroughly chagrined, Maya took her place on the couch and tried to ignore the pair, along with all the other goddesses seated around her. The center of the room, she saw, had been cleared, and a simple white pedestal took up the space. It was quite unlike the opulent furnishings around it, and clearly intended for some kind of display.
Then she took a closer look at the women who were standing along one wall of the room. She’d seen them as she had walked in, but had been too distracted by Silvi and the others to really pay them any attention.
Like the servants, they were all dressed quite simply. Four of them were in severe black business dresses that resembled the comerci in their formality. These garments had high stiff collars just like the comerci did, but instead of a bright cravess, they were buttoned tightly and concealed their owner’s necks. The arms of their tunics were the same; they covered not only their limbs, but continued onwards to become gloves.
Sisterhood of Suns: Daughters of Eve Page 33
