Sisterhood of Suns: Daughters of Eve

by Martin Schiller

  A fifth figure stood slightly in front of them, dressed in the same manner, but in her case, in a tasteful dark grey. Unlike her younger companions, this woman was middle aged, and in the ETR, would have been mistaken for 40 to 50 years, instead of the 100 to 125 Standard that she actually was.

  The entire group stood as still as statues, with their hands clasped in front of them. At their feet were six metal suitcases, arranged just as neatly as they were. On the side of each container was the name, Galarie d’Heireux, ‘Gallery of Light’, and a motto, “Arté heireuxi da âme”, “Art Illuminates the Soul.”

  None of the other guests seemed to be taking any notice of them whatsoever. It was obvious to Maya, that to them, these women were simply another part of the room’s opulent furnishings.

  Taking up a delicate silver spoon, and tapping it against her wine glass, Angelique called everyone to attention. “Jantildamé, friends,” she announced. “I think it is time for our main entertainment, don’t you?” After receiving polite nods from her guests, she turned to the woman in grey. “Madame n’Terriya? Will you honor us?”

  N’Terriya suddenly came to life, stepping forwards one pace, and smiled at the assembly.

  “Sa’la jantildamé. It is my privilege to bring to you several offerings from our gallery, which I hope you will find pleasing.” The woman raised her arm and crisply snapped her fingers. One of her black-suited assistants responded immediately, taking the case nearest her to the center of the room. She opened it and brought out a simple black cube, setting it down on the pedestal.

  “This first piece is by Marya ebed Janna, and entitled “Tetran Dawn.” N’Terriya informed them. The lights in the room automatically dimmed, and the assistant closed her eyes. At this, the lightweave came to life.

  A form of art unique to the Sisterhood, lightweaves were essentially a holographic projection, but the intent was to display an artistic composition rather than to simply convey information. Maya was familiar with them, and she had seen a few examples in primary—every girl had—but she was completely unacquainted with their finer points, or with the artists who created them.

  The weave began as a fine point of light emerging from the center of the cube, and slowly blossomed into a fine mesh of delicate filaments. Shapes sprouted next. Some resolved themselves into round spheres, and others assumed rectangles, while more of them flattened out into thin ribbons that wove in and around the rest.

  Although it was certainly pretty, and seemed to utterly delight the rest of the audience, Maya was unmoved. Abstract art had never appealed to her, and when the weave ended, and the next one was brought up, she found herself hoping that it would center on a more interesting subject. Unfortunately, it didn’t and by the time the final case was being opened, she was utterly bored.

  N’Terriya on the other hand, was positively breathless about the last offering and told them that the piece was the creation of an artist calling herself “Tintharia”. Whoever this person was, her name alone commanded the room’s full attention, and when the assistant activated it, everyone fell silent.

  Like its predecessors, the weave started as a diminutive blossom of rainbow-colored light, rising tentatively from its ebon base like a flame. As it grew, the image began to spin and each individual color wound away from the rest, separating into tiny luminous filaments of pure light. Then the strands slowly regrouped, finding one another and combining to assume mysterious shapes.

  Having seen the other lightweaves, Maya now understood that this portion of the presentation was standard to all of them, and she didn’t let herself become excited. In all likelihood, the weave would turn out to be just another boring abstract piece.

  While she watched, only half-interestedly, the luminous threads increased in number and complexity before they came together to become something recognizable. An impossibly well-formed leg materialized, and after this a torso, and then the full figure of a woman in miniature.

  Maya’s attention was finally captured by its delicacy and its realism. The little woman was perfect in every respect, and she leaned forwards with everyone else to regard the illusion more closely.

  As if in response, the figure seemed to look right back at them, and although she knew it was only a hologram, Maya suddenly felt as if she were facing a living being that had somehow been fashioned from pure light. Then, without giving any warning, the little woman leapt up, twisted in mid-air, and began to perform an intricate dance that was wholly unlike anything that Maya had ever witnessed.

  There was no formal structure to it that she could recognize, but even so, the little dancer managed to express a feeling of absolute joy and freedom. At the same time, her body changed from one color to another, each hue as brilliant and as faultless as the one which had preceded it.

  Tears came to Maya’s eyes as she watched the performance. It was, without question, one of the most beautiful things she had ever witnessed and she didn’t want it to come to an end.

  But finally, the dancer slowed, and then folded in on itself, shrinking down with a painful slowness until at last, it was nothing more than the flicker of light that it had begun as. After another second, this too was gone, leaving only darkness behind, an empty pedestal, and a sense of loss lingering in Maya’s heart.

  Understanding how it had affected them, N’Terriya gave the assembly a moment of silence before she spoke.

  “She is called the ‘da Dansuar’, the Dancer, and I think that it is safe to say that she is the finest work that Tintharia has ever created. The artist herself felt this way; after completing her, she vowed never to compose another lightweave again, and has since moved on to physical sculpture. After seeing it for yourselves, wouldn’t you agree with her decision?”

  She was looking to their hostess, Angelique.

  “Indeed,” the woman replied, her own eyes damp. “I must have her.”

  “Then she is yours, jantildam,” the dealer replied with a bow. “I should also add that you have acquired a truly rare piece. Except for what you have here, all other copies of the program that created her were destroyed by the artist. The Dancer is, and always will be, completely unique.”

  Angelique acknowledged this, and took a deep sip of her wine.

  “There is something else you should know about da Dansuar, jantildam,” the dealer added. “As you might have guessed, she is integrated with a rather complex AI. She will never perform the same dance for you, and each one is a reflection of the emotions of her audience. Each is unique. What you have just seen, was for this night, and for you, and your guests alone.”

  Angelique acknowledged this with a regal inclination of her head, and the attendant responsible for the piece sealed her case, and left the Dancer on the pedestal. There was no discussion of price, or any other arrangements, and as one, Madame n’Terriya and her attendants, left the room, and Angelique, with her prize.

  “Well,” she said, draining her glass. “That was truly more than I expected. What a pleasant surprise.”

  She turned to Sarah. “While the others take their refreshments, would you care to see some of my other acquisitions?”

  No invitation had been extended to Maya, but faced with the alternative of socializing with Silvi and the other aristocrats, she presumed it, and followed. Angelique noticed this, but aside from giving her an arch look, she led Sarah away from the living area without comment.

  Angelique won’t tell you because it would be considered gauche to do so, Sarah informed her, but she just spent 10 million Credits to acquire Da Dansuar for herself. At her level, one never discusses price. One merely acquires, or declines the opportunity to do so.

  This made Maya stumble, mid-stride. She had guessed that Bel Thana was wealthy just by her address alone, but she hadn’t thought of her as being quite that wealthy. It furnished her with another good, solid reason to hate her.

  The Bel Thana family comes from very old money, Sarah thought. They made their fortune in ship-building and transportation. The Luxar L
ines and the Star of Aphrodite are their property.

  Despite the distaste she harbored for Bel Thana, Maya was deeply impressed, and curious. Why did she get involved with the Agency then?

  Had she wanted to, Angelique could have simply bought any of the information that she desired, and if she needed someone eliminated, she was easily able to afford the services of ten women of Skylaar’s caliber.

  The challenge perhaps, and the power, Sarah opined. As a wise woman once said, ‘money is not everything.’ Whatever the case, a Bel Thana has been at or near, the center of Agency business for centuries. As I warned you earlier, have a care with Angelique and her sisters. They are very powerful women, and it would be rather unwise to cross them.

  I will, Maya agreed.

  By this point, they had passed several niches set in the paneled walls, each one housing breathtaking masterpieces, but they stopped before one alcove in particular. By all appearances, it contained nothing more exciting than an ancient battery, and a rather weathered flat-print of a family standing in front of a group of prefab housing units.

  The family was as archaic as the battery was. In addition to the mother, Maya saw what had to be the father. Which meant that the image had to have been taken sometime well before the MARS plague, if the resemblance that the male had to the females was to be trusted at all.

  “A relic from my family’s distant past, “Angelique announced. “I’ve wanted to show it to you for years, Sarah, but until now, I haven’t been able to have it displayed properly.” Sarah leaned in to get a closer view, and Maya couldn’t help but make a comment.

  “Um, it’s a battery,” she remarked, sotto voce. This earned her an irritated glance from both women, and with obvious reluctance, Angelique finally decided to acknowledge her presence.

  “How surprisingly observant of you, Maya,” the woman said with a sneer. “You are correct. The image shows my ancestors standing before their first home here on Thermadon. It was taken when the colony was still new, and long before it became the magnificent city that it is today.’

  “That battery was something that was issued to every settler who had been assigned a home here. It had enough energy to power their residences for a decade before needing a recharge, and it was a symbol of status among them. It meant that a piece of this world had become theirs.”

  “And so it did,” Sarah observed. “The Bel Thana’s have been here ever since.”

  “It’s a battery,” Maya repeated under her breath.

  Angelique pointedly ignored her and smiled proudly towards another niche further along the wall. “Here is something that I recently acquired. I think it has quickly become one of my favorite pieces.”

  Maya was fairly certain that the next ‘treasure’ was just more archaic junk, but she still peered past Angelique to see what she had been referring to. It proved to be far less disappointing than the battery, and twice as mysterious.

  It was an ancient dagger, with a jewel-encrusted hilt and an equally ornate scabbard. Behind it was a weathered bronze object that she could not readily identify. It possessed a square base that supported a thin metal bar, which in turn, held up a small rectangular frame. In that frame, protected by layers of glass, was what looked like a lock of blond human hair, curled around itself once, and secured by a simple piece of ribbon.

  Above all this was a portrait. Maya could tell immediately that it was quite old; the paint had cracked and faded in many places, and its gilded wooden frame was just as time-worn. The woman in it strongly resembled Angelique, or her sisters. She was as blond as Angelique or Josette were, and just as lovely, but her clothing was archaic and seemed to date from a time many centuries before the MARS Plague.

  “Who was she?” Sarah asked.

  “Oh Sarah, I am truly surprised that you would even feel the need to ask me that,” Angelique laughed. “That lock of hair is from the very head of Lucrezia herself.”

  “The Lucrezia?” Sarah inquired, raising an eyebrow.

  “The very same, “Angelique answered proudly. “I have had the DNA confirmed. That hair belonged to one of my most important ancestors; the very progenitrix of the entire Bel Thana line. Isn’t it simply marvelous?”

  She stared down at the relic, thoroughly entranced by it. At that instant, her expression and the angle that Maya was viewing it from, was an exact mirror of the face in the painting. The gulf of centuries closed and she realized that Angelique’s grandiose claim was absolutely true. They were related.

  “A magnificent find,” Sarah agreed, “and a marvelous celebration of your heritage. Congratulations, Angelique. You have just cause to be proud. Tell me, is there a story behind the dagger as well?”

  “Sadly, nothing that I can prove with the same certainty as the hair,” Angelique answered with a slight pout. “It is reputed to be a weapon that either Lucrezia or one of her relatives once possessed, but its provenance cannot be traced definitively. Still, if it was once something that she actually held in her hands—or even used on one of her victims—“

  She let her words trail off there, and Sarah completed them for her. “That would be marvelous indeed.”

  Listening to the exchange, Maya used her psiever, and asked Sarah to enlighten her. Lucrezia? Who was she? Was she another Bel Thana?

  Signora Lucrezia Borgia, Sarah returned. Lady of Pesaro and Gradara, Duchess of Bisceglie, Princess of Salerno, Duchess of Ferrara, Modena and Reggio, and more importantly, Angelique’s great great ancestress. The Bel Thana family can trace its lineage all the way back to the Borgias, and Lucrezia’s memory has always been something of an obsession of hers. As you can see, Angelique sometimes tends towards the eccentric.

  Why should I be impressed?

  Because you should know who Lucrezia Borgia was, Sarah admonished. You did read about her in your studies of Nicola Machiavelli and her colorful era, didn’t you?

  Yes, Sarah. I did. About Nicola at least.

  Then you should know all about Lucrezia Borgia, Sarah insisted. She is remembered as the Mother of Poisons. One tale that survives up to this day is that she carried a special ring with a hollow space concealed under its gem. This was where she stored her poisons, which she introduced into the drinks of her family’s enemies, thus eliminating many bothersome individuals rather efficiently.

  Lovely, Maya remarked sarcastically. What a warm, happy memory.

  We all have ancestors that we can hope to aspire to, Sarah replied. Leaving Maya to consider this, she addressed Bel Thana instead.

  “So, tell me Angelique, however did you come by them?”

  “By a rather long and circuitous route,” Angelique answered. “Apparently, the lock was preserved as part of Lucrezia’s correspondence with her great friend Pietro Bembo. The poet, Lord Byron visited the library where those letters were later kept, and reportedly, he fell so deeply in love with her memory that he stole the relic. His works are well worth reading by the way. They are quite unlike what one might otherwise expect from a man.”

  Sarah’s eyebrow raised again, this time in doubt, but Bel Thana waved her misgivings away. “Oh, I know. I know. Really though, they are not crude scribbling’s at all. In fact, they are quite up to the standards of any female author.”

  “I would have to see that for myself,” Sarah returned, clearly only half convinced.

  Bel Thana smiled. “I certainly understand, and I would feel the same way in your place. But to return to my story, this Byron fellow stole the relic from the library. Later, it was recovered and enshrined just as you see it now.’

  “Then, during the great European economic collapse of 2128 BSE, it came into the possession of several colorful owners including a communist general, several multi-billion and trillionaires, and so on. Eventually though, it made its way to Mars, and later, came to the attention of the Galarie Heireux. Knowing my family, and my tastes, they obtained it for me immediately.”

  “An interesting tale indeed,” Sarah agreed.

  Bel Thana smiled bro
adly and then glanced at Maya. “Would you care to step outside with me, Sarah? I have something important to speak with you about. In private.”

  Although Maya was tempted to protest this blatant exclusion, the look that Sarah flashed her quashed it immediately. “I guess I’ll go back and mingle,” she said, leaving them.

  Sarah let Angelique lead her down the hall and out onto a broad patio that overlooked the city. A heavy fog had moved in, shrouding many of the buildings around them in secretive grey mists, and aside from the low hiss of the wind, the place was utterly silent.

  They stepped up to the mist-wet rail and shared the darkness together. As the seconds passed, Sarah began to wonder if this was going to be another abortive attempt by Angelique to rekindle their relationship, and she desperately hoped that she was wrong. The last thing that she needed was another awkward situation to come between them.

  When Angelique spoke at last, Sarah’s fears were completely displaced by newer, and far more dangerous ones.

  “So Sarah, now that you’ve spent some time in the ETR, how do you feel about our ‘new peace’?” The contempt in Angelique’s tone was faint, but still tangible.

  “I think that we’ll see these Loyalistas brought to heel soon enough,” Sarah replied levelly. “My station has already eliminated many members of its top leadership, and the rest will soon follow. Their little rebellion will end shortly.”

  “I know that, Sarah,” Angelique answered. “I’ve read your reports, and the Agency--and I--are both quite pleased. That is not what I meant. What do you think? How do you feel about it all?”

  Sarah looked out into the mists and considered her answer, unsure where the conversation was leading. “I wonder,” she finally said tentatively, “at what we have really bought for ourselves.”

  “As have I,” Angelique responded. “As have a lot of us.” She didn’t have to explain herself on this score. They both knew what she meant. The Hriss clans had been defeated, but the Hriss themselves still survived, and after four major conflicts with them, anyone with even half a brain realized that it was only a matter of time before another war erupted.