A block later Atiana said, “I can’t decide if they look silly or beautiful.”
“Who?” Havlock asked.
“The women. Such colorful clothes and jewels that emphasize their beauty so well. They must be wealthy beyond belief. For the first time in my life, I feel plain. What can you possibly see in me?”
“You mean besides the fact that you’re a queen, you own a kingdom, you manage a province, you hunt gleasons, you put your people first, and you’re the most beautiful woman in the galaxy?”
She stopped and put a hand up to his face. “Oh, Gar, I can’t compete with the beauty I see here, the beauty you’ve grown up with. Don’t lie to me.”
He took her hand and kissed it, not caring that their small group had become an impediment to the increasing foot traffic. “I’ll never lie to you, My Lady. You are beautiful, and I speak here not only of your physical beauty. You are beautiful inside and out in every way that matters to me.”
He swept his arm in an arc to take in the pedestrians. “It’s true, their clothes emphasize their beauty, but those clothes are only practical in this environment. Can you imagine fighting a gleason or riding a gorlac dressed like them?”
Kori stepped in before Atiana had a chance to answer. “Your Majesty, lots and lots of time and effort and expense have gone into creating the clothes you see here, and styles change periodically, forcing these people to replace things before they’re worn out.”
“Why?”
“Because most people here believe their appearance defines them. In a way, our appearance defines us too. We’ve chosen to dress functionally because we lead functional lives.”
“They don’t?”
She frowned, but just for a moment. “They do, but it’s a different functionality. People everywhere like to compete, and when they don’t have to compete for their next meal or to stay alive, they find something else. By something else, I mean they compete against each other. In place of swords and blasters, they use clothes, education, wealth, and position as their weapons. Most of them would not survive conditions on Tranxte—I doubt if a single person within your sight has ever heard of a gleason except possibly in a horror story—but you would find it equally difficult to compete in this world where fashion holds such a high priority.”
As they approached the nearest gzeikolt and its true size became clear, Atiana turned sad eyes to Havlock. “Is this the future of Tranxte?”
Havlock countered her question with one of his own. “Do you see now why I do not want the Empire to determine Tranxte’s future? These might be in your future . . . our future . . . but they might not. Or, they might be in the far future. This city is thousands of years old and has far too many people for them to live in individual homes. I would guess that the average person here has never felt grass or dirt under their feet.”
“You tried to tell me about these places, but I did not truly understand. I’m not certain I do even now. After only three weeks on Resolve, I sorely miss the sky, and I miss the sounds and smells of the outdoors.”
The gzeikolt drew everyone’s attention toward the sky, but Atiana noticed an area of bright green ahead of them. She sucked in a breath and glanced at Milae who had seen it as well. With unspoken agreement, they took each others hands and raced ahead to a parkland situated between two gzeikolts. Trees whose branches leafed out high above peoples’ heads left an unobstructed view through the park, and several fountains added their grace and music to an otherwise sterile, manicured environment. They stepped into the park with blissful expressions and removed their boots, then walked hand in hand toward the center of the park, leaving the rest of their small group to catch up.
Despite the millions of people living around the park, few actually used the park as a park. Most either crossed through the park on artificial pathways or strode purposefully along its boundaries. Atiana and Milae plopped down near an exception to the rule, a group of 15 children, then lay back into the grass with their eyes closed and smiles on their faces. Havlock, Galborae, and Kori joined them, but Hawke’s gaze settled on the group of children and their teacher.
The children sat on personal blankets in a semicircle in front of their teacher who was reading from her pad with her back to him. What caught his attention was that the teacher, brunette and trim but broad shouldered like an athlete, had removed her shoes and was sitting on the grass, not on a blanket. The next thing that caught his attention was her husky voice.
Intrigued, he ambled over to her and asked politely, “Pardon my interruption. May I listen to your story?”
An attractive, dark-haired woman with large, dark eyes turned half way around and looked up at him, considered him for a moment, then stood up. When she turned fully toward him, his breath caught in his throat: a terrible disfigurement below her left ear, a scar that ran from her ear to her shoulder, drew his eyes. He’d gotten used to seeing scars among the populations of Tranxte, but here such things stood out as highly unusual.
Then she smiled and his heart stopped beating. At first all he could focus on was wide, full lips that dimpled her cheeks and enlivened her whole face, but then he looked into her eyes, pools of dark brown that sparkled, pools that invited.
He fell in love on the spot.
His heart remained stopped while she pulled long brown hair forward with both hands to hide her scar. “It’s just a children’s story,” she said in that husky, pleasant voice.
Entranced, it took him a moment to remember to speak. He managed a feeble, “That’s okay.”
“May I ask a favor in return?” she asked in that amazing voice, a welcoming smile still dimpling her cheeks.
Distracted, he blinked a few times, his mind thinking more about alluring lips than words, then he remembered she expected a response.
“Of course.”
“I see the man with the sword, so you’re probably not the knight, and I recognize the governor. Are you the teacher?”
Those unexpected words brought him back to reality. “You know who we are?”
“Of course. Anyone who pays attention to current events knows about you.”
He gulped. “I had no idea. Uh . . . yes, I’m called Teacher, though I’ve had no formal training.”
Her brow furrowed. “No formal training? And you’re responsible for teaching a whole world?”
“Well,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “I’m not teaching what you’re teaching. I’m really an Imperial Marine in disguise. I’m teaching kings and queens and soldiers and traders how to stay alive. The rest will come later, I hope.”
Her eyes narrowed as she considered, but then she brightened, her dimples reappearing. “Well, I’m not a teacher either, not for another month.”
Hawke lifted an eyebrow and looked to the children.
“I’m not teaching them,” she said. “I’m just reading to them.”
“Oh. Sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”
“It’s okay. I’m a student again so I have plenty of free time. I post a sign-up list for children who want to visit the park. I like to encourage them to get out.”
“Out of a whole gzeikolt you only got 15?”
“Sometimes a few more.” She held her hand out to him. “I’m Graylee Rodjiks.”
He took her hand, saying, “Everyone calls me Hawke or Teacher.” He started to lift her hand to his lips in a sign of chivalry when his sense of touch intruded. Without thinking, he turned her hand over and discovered significant calluses. She pulled her hand back, embarrassed.
“I know. Not very lady-like,” she said.
“That’s not what I was thinking at all. Yours are not the hands of a student. How come you’re not wearing shoes?”
She dimpled again. “I guess I’m a throwback. I grew up on a farm, and I’ve been off-world for the past few years.”
“I’m intrigued. Tell me if I’m being too nosy.”
Dimples again and a friendly, direct look that invited him into her personal space. “I will. I have a
request, so I’ll get my story out of the way. Farm, engineering degree, colonist until we discovered intelligent life—in the ocean of all places—and we had to pull the plug. I’ll be finishing up an advanced teaching degree soon. That’s about it.”
Hawke stared at her in amazement. “I guess that explains the no shoes. You have a request?”
“I’ve always wanted to meet a real queen. May I?”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Let me check.” He stared at Graylee for a few more moments, reluctant to leave, but then he turned and stepped back over to Havlock. “Sir, did you know we’ve been on the news?”
Havlock leaned back, as surprised as Hawke had been. “No, I didn’t.” He considered for a time, then added, “It makes sense I suppose. The Empire’s investment in Tranxte is not small, and there’s no need to keep our plight a secret.”
“I suppose not.” Hawke looked to Atiana. “The woman over there asked if she could meet a real queen.”
Atiana’s hand went to her throat. “She knows me?”
“According to her,” Hawke answered, “you’re known to most everyone on the planet, and if that’s the case, your story might even get out to the rest of the Empire. If it does, a lot of people are going to know who you are, and they’re going to know about the hardships you and your people have endured because of the gleasons. This is an opportunity for you to represent Tranxte’s plight to our civilization.”
She stared at him, then her gaze went to Havlock. “Despite everything I’ve been through, I can’t get my mind around this one.”
He shook his head. “Nor can I.” He looked at her for a long time, but she could tell his thoughts were elsewhere. When she found his eyes actually focused back on herself, she knew his thoughts had firmed.
“I wonder if our Empire will fall in love with you just as I have?” he wondered aloud. “Your situation is a real rarity, a tale of hardship and sacrifice that’s going on right now, before their very eyes, and the outcome is not a sure thing. No one who’s not been to Tranxte can ever really understand what you’ve been through, and by the time your story spreads it will have changed—they’ll have you living through an adventure, not a nightmare—but you’ll be perceived as a real fairy tale kind of queen.”
Atiana stared at him, then just got up and walked over to the children. The moment she stood, Graylee motioned for her students to stand. Atiana approached, and the teacher went to a knee with her head bowed. The class followed her example.
“We’re honored, Your Majesty,” Graylee said.
Atiana responded carefully, her Rider helping her to speak words she barely understood. “Stand, all of you,” she ordered. “I would know your names.”
Hawke was busy gathering spare translator devices from his pack. He hurried over and attached one to Graylee’s ear, then Milae joined him to hand them out to each of the children. When everyone was ready, he nodded to Atiana who repeated her question in her own language.
The teacher replied, “I’m Graylee Rodjiks, Your Majesty.”
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Atiana said, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. She turned to the class which was still standing. “I am Queen Atiana.” She looked to the nearest child, a boy, and said, “Come forward, young man.” When the child reached her, she put a hand on each of his shoulders. “What’s your name?”
She repeated it with each child, then bade them all to sit back down. She sat down beside Graylee, saying, “You have questions?”
An hour later Graylee glanced toward the nearest gzeikolt and back to Atiana. “Your Majesty, the children should be getting back inside.”
Atiana nodded and looked thoughtfully at the gzeikolt. “I’m told we might have such places in our future. Would you be willing to show yours to me?”
Graylee jumped to her feet. “Yes!”
Atiana stood up and looked to Havlock. “Do we have time?”
He smiled. “We’ll make time. This wasn’t part of the plan, but it should have been.”
“I’d like to see a farm tomorrow. Is that possible?”
He chewed on his lip before answering. “I have some things I need to get done in person. Reviewing the supplies we’re taking back with us is at the top of that list.” He looked to Hawke and Kori. “How about you two?”
Hawke had been focused entirely on Graylee, mesmerized by her looks, her wonderful voice, and her clear questions and explanations to Atiana. He was not ready for her to disappear yet. He looked to Havlock, his eyes begging. “I’ve scheduled interviews with teacher candidates, but I’d really like to go with them, sir.”
Havlock heard the underlying message. “You’re our Teacher, and that includes teaching Her Majesty while she’s here. Stay with her. I’ll do the initial interviews for you. Kori?”
Kori did not hesitate. “I’m good, sir. Just ready to go back.”
“Galborae, Milae, any plans?”
“No offense, Sky Lord, but she’s my queen. You’re still ending a rebellion here and we just learned that everyone on the planet knows about her. I’ll stay by her side, and I will be armed.”
“Hmm. That presents its own problems. I don’t think people generally walk around inside gzeikolts with weapons.”
“Sir,” Hawke said, “she’s a head of state. They can’t say no to an escort of Imperial Marines.”
Havlock nodded thoughtfully. “Very well. Check in with me once in a while, will you?”
Shoes and boots went back on the appropriate feet and Graylee herded the small throng toward the gzeikolt.
Hawke noticed her walking with a significant limp. She caught him looking and dimpled again, pulling her hair forward to cover her scar. “Old injuries,” she said. “It doesn’t slow me down, but together with the scar it’s been very helpful at keeping you men away.”
“A woman as beautiful as you? No way.”
“Way. It’s quite a change from before the accident.”
He frowned. “Surely you can have them fixed?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t get to advanced medical facilities in time. They worked wonders as it is.”
“What happened?”
“A freak accident as we were pulling up stakes at the colony. A cable snapped and partially severed the major blood vessels in my neck. It was purely a quirk of fate that our doctor happened to be right there. He performed major surgery on the spot, even before they lifted the load off of me.”
“You couldn’t get to a tank?”
“We were months away from the nearest tank. By then, it was too late. I might go back in and let them clean up the scar a little, but there’s no rush. It was a near thing and I’m just happy to be alive.” She dropped the subject and released the children outside the main entrance, then switched roles to tour guide.
When seen from a distance, the bases of gzeikolts appeared small, but when standing next to a wall of doors that stretched hundreds of feet, that smallness revealed itself as just an issue of scale. The three from Tranxte felt intimidated by the enormous, bulbous, colorful structure towering over them. Nothing in their experience had prepared them for this. Atiana actually felt her shoulders hunching under the tremendous weight hanging over her.
Graylee noticed and said, “The center of the building is the main support structure. The rest of the structure sort of hangs from that center support. It’s technical and I won’t go into details, but for example, these outer walls do not hold up the building. They function only as decoration and a place to house the doors. Real support begins several layers in.”
“Does everyone here know such details?” Atiana asked.
“No, Your Majesty. I’m an engineer, and I’ve studied this structure in depth as part of my training.”
“An engineer?”
Graylee corrected herself. “Think of me as a builder, Your Majesty. I design and build things.”
“What things?”
“Oh, buildings, roads, bridges, that sort of thing.”
“
You seem young.”
Her dimples showed again. “If I may be so bold, so do you. I don’t have a lot of experience, only three years with the colony, but I went with the first-in group so there was plenty to do.” She held a hand out palm up. “I came by these honestly.”
Atiana held her own hand out. Graylee took her hand and felt it, surprised. “These are from a sword?”
“No, I’m not strong enough for the sword. Sir Galborae is the swordsman in our group. I became an archer.”
Galborae shook his head and lifted his blaster part way out of its holster. “I prefer these now. They have better range.”
Graylee’s forehead furrowed as she nodded thoughtfully. She looked at the sword strapped to his waist and asked, “Is that the same one, Sire?”
Galborae scowled. “I’m not sire on this world. The same what?”
“The same sword.”
Galborae looked perplexed. Hawke almost stepped in, but Graylee recognized Galborae’s confusion for what it was and beat him to it.
“The recording of you defending Tricor’s wall has spread like wildfire here, Sire. The picture of Queen Atiana holding you at the end of that battle has, I’m told, brought many a tear. The recording did not make it clear if you survived or not. Before returning to Tranxte, you might want to address that.”
Galborae, not the most talkative person even in the best of times, was speechless.
Graylee understood. “I’ll help you deal with that later if you want.” She took his arm and turned him toward the gzeikolt. “Why don’t we continue the tour? Most of what you see will be new to you, so don’t hesitate to ask questions. The official name of my building is Gzeikolt 5, but the permanent residents call themselves Gmornys. It’s a new name for them, borrowed from a local hero of the rebellion.”
“You say them, not us,” Atiana noticed.
“I’m just a temporary resident here while I finish my training, Your Majesty.” She led them through massive doors that opened silently as they approached.
Atiana felt her eyebrows raising at this amazing feat, but then she pulled herself together and corralled her imagination just as she had learned to do regularly aboard ships.
Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights Page 38
