Tales of the Spinward March Book 2: The Red Queen

by David Winnie

  A Proctor in brown robes entered the room bearing an opaque box containing the download headpiece. Wood-grained in appearance, it circled Annika’s head at the brow, extended down her cheeks and arched further down to her neck in the back. Tabs stretched over the top of her head. Technicians added extensions to the arms of the chair, data pads attached. Annika gave Yuri a last squeeze and placed her hands on the pads. She inhaled deeply and exhaled. “Ready,” she announced.

  Her body gave a jolt and she gasped. Yuri could hear her pulse begin to accelerate and saw her begin to quiver. Fingers began to slowly tap a tattoo on the pads. Annika’s head snapped up, green eyes turned black and began to move side to side while her head nodded up and down. Yuri heard the pulse increase. He checked the monitor. Dear Gods, 250, 300, 350…500 beats a minute! It was accelerating. Surely, they had to stop. Her heart should have exploded by now. The technician at the station smiled. “Almost there,” was his cheerful pronouncement, “and look at her fluidic electroglands! They are producing at 150% above expectations! Outstanding!”

  Yuri wanted to walk away. By all measures of medical science, Annika should have come apart at the seams by now. The tattoo of her fingers was a steady buzz, her eyes couldn’t be tracked. From her open mouth issued strange noises, definitely not human and the noise from her pulse was a high-pitched whine. Everyone was watching her, enthralled. Not Yuri. He had given her downloads at Celtius 4, but it was nothing like this.

  After half an hour, the staccato tapping of her fingers slowed. She was no longer making the odd noise and her head was turning in smaller and smaller circles. Yuri grabbed the cart holding her electrolytes and pushed it next to her. He listened to her pulse as it slowed, praying.

  There was a large “SNAP” and the displays around her all went blank. An attendant removed the pads under her arms, even though her fingers still wriggled and writhed. Annika’s head stopped its frantic nodding. She stared straight ahead, the black in her eyes fading to a flat rendition of her emerald green. Every breath in the room was stilled.

  “Yuri?” came the ragged whisper. “Yuri, my love, I am ever so thirsty.” He held the first glass to her lips, the silver-grey sludge sliding past her pale lips. He saw her throat work as she swallowed the entire glass of the vile smelling liquid. “More!” she gasped. Yuri tried to place the next glass in her hand. She grabbed at it, swinging too hard. It flew across the room with a crash. “YURI!” she screamed, “MORE!” Before she could react, he had another glass at her lips, holding it with both hands.

  “Shhh, Annika, I am here.” She put her hand on his as she drank the revolting potion.

  When the glass was empty, she breathed heavily. “More, please,” she asked in a stronger voice. With closed eyes, she held Yuri’s hand and now sipped the mixture.

  Annika’s eyes lost their flat green stare, began to sparkle their natural emerald green. “One more, please,” she entreated. Her mouth formed a small smile as she drank neatly, then asked for five glasses of water, one right after the other. Her clothes were stuck to her body from perspiration, hair splayed about. Yuri smoothed her hair as best he could. She turned her head until he could caress her cheek.

  “Proctor, may I rest now?” Annika asked. “I am so tired.” She held Yuri’s hand to her cheek, closed her eyes and fell asleep. Applause rippled through the room.

  “A success,” the Brown Proctor told Yuri, “a complete, absolute success! Well done, Doctor.” He took Yuri’s hand and shook it vigorously.

  “I don’t pretend to understand,” responded the confused doctor. “All I did was hand her fluids.”

  The Brown Proctor shook his head. “You don’t work much with computers?” he asked. “Red File has entered a restart phase from her reformatting. You were a big key. Had you not been there or if someone unfamiliar had responded, she would have gone into self-preservation mode. She might have attacked everyone in the room until she was subdued or she could even have initiated a self-destruct sub routine.”

  The chair in the center of the room had folded into a gurney. A nurse removed his hand with the gentle touch. “Please, Sir, we’re taking her in for a bath and changing. We’ll transport her to your suite when we’re finished.”

  A bustle of activity filled the room as the gurney was escorted from it. Attendants put away equipment, polished surfaces and left. The Proctor offered to walk with Yuri back to the suite, provided they stop along the way for lunch. “Doctor, she’ll be sleeping now for 24 hours. I rarely have a chance to just sit and talk with anyone outside my order during meals.”

  In the hallway, Yuri was delighted at the Proctor’s words. “Tell me, please Doctor. Have you ever watched baseball?”

  The Proctor was spot on in his estimate of how long Annika would sleep. Yuri was holding her hand a day later when she stirred. Her eyes opened with a snap and she sat up. She shook her head and said, “Whoa! That was something! Yuri, my love, have you been sitting there all night?” She scrambled out of bed and began to flex and stretch. “Man, do I feel good!” She danced about, began stripping her pajamas as she hopped and skipped to the bathroom. “Yuri, darling, would you call Dohlman and get breakfast going?”

  Yuri watched in stunned disbelief. Annika, usually modest, was prancing and leaping about naked. She whirled in circles and cried, “Hurry, hurry, Lazybones, I’m hungry!” She pranced into the bathroom.

  “Dohlman?” The butler appeared. “Would you set breakfast for two, please,” Yuri asked. “And notify Red Proctor. Let him know Annika is awake.” The Dohlman nodded and disappeared.

  Annika was…singing? A wild tune in an unfamiliar language issued from the bath. He couldn’t recall hearing her sing. Breakfast arrived and interrupted his thoughts, he was drinking his coffee when the shower shut off and Annika bounded into the room.

  Completely nude, water still dripping from her body.

  “Oh, goody! Food! I am so hungry.” She raced across the room, eying the setting.

  “Annika,” croaked Yuri. “Didn’t you forget something?”

  Annika stopped, looked down at herself and cried, “Oh, yeah, be right back.” Off she ran to her room, returning seconds later. She pointed to her feet. “Slippers!” She began to grab food and shove it in her mouth.

  Yuri was just starting to call for Dohlman when a knock came at the door. Before Yuri could respond, Annika, spraying food from her mouth, yelled, “Enter!”

  The Proctor entered. “Good morning, Crown Princess, good morning, Doc…oh!” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a golden band. “Red File, please put this on.”

  Annika shook her head. “Can’t,” came the answer. “Eating.” More food sprayed out of her mouth.

  The Proctor sighed. “Child!” His voice raised. “Put the transducer on now!”

  She spat the food in her mouth on a plate and took the band, placing it around her head. The Proctor produced a pad from yet another pocket and tapped a few keystrokes. Annika froze.

  The Proctor continued to tap away at the pad while talking to himself. “Ah,” he finally said aloud. “Of course. You’ve been a very lazy child.” He tapped the pad once more.

  Annika came out of her stupor. “Proctor, good morning! I was just, AHHHHHHH!!” she screamed, trying to cover herself. “May I be excused?” she called over her shoulder as she bolted for her room.

  The Proctor shook his head and gave Yuri one of his small smiles. “Well, the manners sub-routine is working,” was his wry remark. “She did excuse herself.”

  “What just happened?” Yuri asked.

  “Ah, well, in simplest terms, I had to adjust some of Red’s Files…”

  “Annika.”

  The Proctor inclined his head. “Annika,” he corrected, “has a series of emotional settings that are adjustable. We found we had to write them into her as she didn’t develop them naturally. There are the more basic emotions, like you saw today. Modesty. Gods above, that was difficult. As small children, we allowed the Files to live naked.
We felt it would help break down some social taboos for them. When the time came, the other children developed degrees of modesty as we had them dress. Not Annika. She couldn’t understand why she had to wear clothing. It took two months until we found the anomaly. We were able to override it, but adjusting the files associated with it took time. Some will still require thought on her part and interaction with others.”

  “But she will be all right.”

  “Oh, yes. I think what happened during the reformatting; her modesty setting was reset to an earlier age. Twenty months, it seems to have been.” The Proctor continued to poke at his pad.

  “Ah, the nudity, the singing and the poor table manners.” Yuri stated.

  “Singing?” The Proctor sounded surprised.

  Yuri confirmed, “Yes, she was singing in the shower.”

  “Interesting.” The Proctor began to tap away at his tablet.

  Annika returned to the table, looking contrite. “I apologize, Proctor, for my appalling behavior.”

  “Yes, Child, appalling is a good word. How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Embarrassed.”

  The Proctor looked pleased. “Excellent! You didn’t have to search to understand what you feel! Very good, Annika. Now, why do you feel embarrassed?”

  “You and Yuri saw me nude,” Annika said shyly.

  “I have seen you nude many times, Child.”

  “Yes, but I was much younger,” she explained.

  “And now you are older. Why are you embarrassed Yuri saw you?” he pressed.

  Annika said, “He’s never seen me that way before.”

  “He is a doctor; he’s examined many people naked. Why does this embarrass you?”

  She chewed on a petchya rind, her brow furrowed in concentration.

  “I don’t want him to think I am ugly,” she whispered.

  “I don’t think you’re ugly,” Yuri interjected. “I think you’re beautiful.”

  “Really?” Annika sounded hopeful.

  The Proctor raised a hand. “We are losing the point of the lesson, Child. Why do you think Yuri would find you ugly?”

  Annika hung her head. “I haven’t been taking care of myself properly.”

  “Exactly. What did I find in your physiological scan?”

  “A low endorphin rate.”

  “When did you last work out, Annika?” the Proctor asked.

  “The day before the Naming Ceremony. The day was so busy, I skipped it from my schedule. In the days after, I didn’t make the time.”

  Yuri interrupted in his Doctor Russolov mode. “What are your reactions when you allow your endorphin levels to get too low?”

  “Fear. Self-loathing. Poor body image. Self-destructive behavior. Irresponsible actions.”

  “Exactly,” said the Proctor. “I am resetting your schedule. You will change into your workout uniform and go to the gymnasium. I will have Major Campion and Sergeant Swartz direct you into a proper routine once more.”

  “Yes, Proctor.” Annika left the table and went to change.

  “And you, Doctor? What are you doing today?”

  “I was going to walk with Annika to her office, then go work in the city hospital. But I think I will just go straightaway to the hospital.”

  “Yes,” agreed the Proctor.

  “Higher, higher!” screamed Sergeant Pamela Swartz. “Superior being, my ASS! Get that weight off your chest and get it up. Now!”

  Annika gritted her teeth and pushed. Pamela was her old friend from the first day of the crisis; she had been pleased to see her. Pleased right up until the workout began. Then something evil emerged. Annika had read about demon possession and wondered if that was what happened to Sergeant Swartz.

  The weight reached the top. Pamela grabbed the bar and helped guide it into the bench. Annika, breathing heavily, her arms above her head. “What!” cried Pamela, “a rest? We’ll rest when we’re dead. Come on UP!”

  Wearily, Annika got off the bench. She twisted, stretched, loosening and limbering her body. Rolling her neck, she joined Pamela on the track for a two-mile cool-down jog. Annika couldn’t speak. A mere Terran, albeit an adult soldier, had outperformed her physically. She burned with embarrassment.

  Finished, they entered the locker room and showered. Pamela had a fresh uniform to wear; Dohlman had delivered a loose suit for the girl. “Well, off to work,” Pamela quipped. “Best way I know how to start my day. See you tomorrow?”

  “NO!” Annika wanted to scream. Instead, she smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

  “Sweetie, today was just a start. I know you can do better and you and I are going to find out just how good you can be. Look in that mirror. Tell me truthfully how much better you feel already?”

  Annika looked. Her hair was a mess. Normally, she had help with that. But, she had to get to work. She took a second glance. Her face was ruddy from the strain. But she was already feeling…better. “Maybe you’re right, Pamela,” she replied, “Whoops, off to work.”

  As always, Annika led her small troupe to her office. Miss Norris didn’t look up. “You’re late!” she cried as Annika hurried by.

  “Yes, I know,” Annika called back. “Tea, please, Miss Norris.”

  This day established Annika’s pattern for the next two months. She would work on reports until nine, when the Prime Minister Stype would arrive. They would go over the events of the day and the reports she had read. Annika appreciated the old minister. He was patient when explaining the finer points she didn’t understand, corrected her so she didn’t feel foolish. Most of all, he encouraged her and allowed her to make her own decisions.

  At eleven, she ate lunch at one of the dozens of gardens and grottos near her office. Her favorite “The Garden of Eternity”, was open aired, facing the plateau of Giza. The view was of the Sphinx and three ancient pyramids. She found solace viewing the weathered stone monuments to ancient kings as she ate. As often as he could, Yuri would join her. When he couldn’t, any number of ministers gladly accepted the invitation of the Crown Princess. There was rumor around the Imperial Ministry that this young woman was formidable, working hard at being accessible and cordial. Annika was developing a following.

  The afternoons were more reports and too often, meetings. Annika struggled in meetings. She didn’t like to sit still that long. Most of the meetings were with members of the court and government trying to curry favor or be noticed. From time to time, she broke the Prime Minister’s taboo and looked into some of her visitors’ heads. Most of the information was benign, but some she noted for future use.

  A few of these scans she shared with Noire. There would be quiet investigations and quieter arrests.

  On the seventh day after the attack, she and Yuri arose early. Dohlman had laid out somber clothing. Noire and her sister Teresa joined her for the state funeral. Their mother and the Regent joined them, along with two dozen members of the family who had survived.

  Four boxes containing the cremated remains of her sister, Anje, and their brothers sat on a plinth at the front of the plaza. In even rows were the remains of the forty dead members from the Royal family. Annika had never met them, nor any of the other survivors arrayed before her.

  The ceremony was mercifully short. After the priests and bonzes representing the Khan’s family chanted their prayers and waved their incense burners, the thousands gathered bowed in silent respect for the mourning Crown Princess and departed the plaza.

  The interment was likewise brief. Annika placed the four boxes containing her siblings in the sepulchers carved in the bowels of the palace for that purpose. She hesitated with the orange-ribboned box, that of Anja.

  A Khan does not cry, she told herself. But a sister does…

  Yuri wrapped his arms around the weeping girl and led her away.

  Chapter 14

  “How many dead, Minister?” Annika demanded.

  Morris Stype checked his pad. “One hundred thirty-eight thousand, four hundred seventy-nine.”

/>   “How many whole families?” she asked, dreading the answer.

  “At least fourteen thousand. It will take time to go through the remains. Some are only DNA samples.”

  “One hundred thirty-eight thousand.” she repeated. “I’m afraid so many will go unclaimed. Whatever shall we do? I can’t bear the thought of so many unclaimed and unremembered in a warehouse.”

  “Commonly, a memorial would be erected near the disaster site…” Minister Stype began.

  “That’s it exactly. Two weeks. I want the proposed plans on my desk in two weeks.”

  Minister Stype rubbed his neck. “That could be very expensive.”

  “For the favor of the Crown Princess and future Empress? I think we’ll have far more designs proposed than we have victims. Two weeks, Minister.”

  Three days later, General Han requested a meeting. Annika, ever looking to escape the disapproving glare of Miss Norris, raced to Central Command. General Han met her at the central holo. “We got them,” he announced, his grin wolf-like in stark contrast to his respectful bow.

  An image of a wild ocean was up on the screen. “Set time scale back one hour,” he directed, “and then advance at five-minute increments.” The image scrambled, then froze. It began to move again. They double backed north, to the Arctic, “he indicated. “The ice there is at its thinnest and we were able to trace them easily with the blue light laser.”

  Flashes of fire erupted from the ice. “They cut their way through, expecting to be able to rise up through the Van Allen belts. But I had a squadron of Buccaneer fighters and two scouts orbiting the breakout. If they got past them, I had a full destroyer division in low orbit. They weren’t going to escape.”