by David Winnie
Her hand slipped under his pajamas.
“Would you like to have children, Yuri?” she whispered. “Children of our own?”
“We have eight children already. See, I was listening,” as he nibbled on her earlobe.
“I mean a natural child, one just between you and me.”
“Can you?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve never discussed this matter with Master Tahn. I shall remember to ask him.”
“In the meantime, my beautiful wife,” as he slipped her gown off, “might I suggest we practice?”
Chapter 25
The day before Orthodox Christmas, they were transported to the farm. Clara, Andrei and the rest of the family were overjoyed to see the couple. Because the weather had been so severe, Annika and Yuri accepted a room in the main house. Clara and her staff laid out a grand feast for the evening.
Andrei, at the head of the table as was proper, had once again insisted Annika sit to his right. Yuri sat next to her, shuffling the whole side of the table down one seat. There was some good-natured grumbling until the feasting began.
After supper, the family retired to the parlor. Andrei had secured a large yule log and it burned cheerily, warming the room. Clara busied herself serving warmed winter punch and hot toddies. Annika curled up with Yuri on a loveseat, wrapped in his arms and sipping the spicy and sweet drink Clara had served her.
For the first time in her life, Annika felt completely at home.
Christmas morning! Annika and Yuri woke huddled deeply under their quilt. When she peeked out, only his great nose was sticking out from under the covers. She rolled on to him and kissed his schnozzle. “Wake up, sleepy head!” she announced. “It’s Christmas!”
The blanket beneath his nose parted and he kissed his wife. “I am awake, silly girl,” he said. “I’m just waiting here for Ded Moroz to bring me a warm sweater!”
There was a polite knock at the door. “Children?” called Clara, “Happy Christmas! Hurry now, breakfast will be on the table soon.”
Annika smiled at Yuri mischievously. “Yes, Mama!” she called. She hopped out of bed, grabbing her robe and clothing, then raced out the door for the bathroom. Yuri sighed. Well, this got him another half hour in the bed, waiting for Annika to get ready.
Andrei and Annika reprised the traditional roles as Ded Moroz and Snegurochka for the village children. Andrei’s robe was an elegant forest green, Annika’s a bright red. Andrei had convinced Annika to have just the smallest nip of cognac before they departed. The sky was clear and blue as an iceberg. And just as cold. Just the nip was enough to redden her cheeks and the tip of her pug nose. She was a bit uneven and laughing as the two drove the gaily decorated sledge into the village. They huffed great clouds of fog as she led Andrei in the Christmas songs she had learned in choir. The jangle of bells, the clatter of the hooves of the horses on the icy road was a joyous accompaniment to the singers.
Andrei had had more than a nip of the cognac before they left and more along the way. He weaved and roared with laughter as Ded Moroz and the beautiful Snegurochka handed the eager children their small gifts and Christmas treats. Yuri appeared and Annika fell out of the sleigh, face first into the snow. The assembled children roared with delight, not knowing it wasn’t part of the playacting. When Annika sprang to her feet and ran to Yuri, the children threw snowballs all the way. At the edge of the square, they stopped and waved as Snegurochka and her true love fled down the streets.
Yuri and Annika turned down the familiar side road, ducked under the porch. The mistletoe waited above, as it had the last Christmas. They kissed as lovers celebrating their first Christmas together. Breaking the kiss, Annika breathed, “Oh, Yuri, finally. We can finally tell everyone. Come, let’s hurry.”
“Wait!” he exclaimed. “I have a Christmas gift for you.” He pulled his mittens off and reached into his pocket, drawing out a velvet bag. A slender gold ring fell into his palm. Annika gasped and pulled her right mitten off.
“With this small token,” he said gently, “the whole of the universe will know that I, Yuri Russolov, love you, Annika Raudona Russolov.” He slid the ring on her trembling finger.
Exuberantly, they raced hand in hand, skidding and falling on the icy streets, to their home.
Christmas at the Russolov household was as magical as Annika remembered. Dozens of children streamed through the house, screaming and playing with new toys. Clumps of adults sat or stood, talking and laughing. In the parlor, a cousin banged away on the piano and ten singers sang Christmas songs. Rich and spicy odors wafted from the dining room, where Clara had laid out the feast in buffet style. The tables fairly groaned under the bounty - meats, fowl, fish, and vegetables of Terra and off worlds. To the side, dazzling desserts of cakes, cookies, creams and trifle. Fruits galore. Candies of every shape and size.
Yuri found Annika at the desert table, where she had been hungrily eying a trifle of several chocolates, while dipping her finger into the frosting of a cake. He tapped his glass with a spoon and called “Everyone? Everyone! Shhh, shhh. Annika and I have an announcement.”
With all the noise, no one paid any attention. Annika giggled and disappeared into the kitchen stopping only to grab a quick bite of fudge. She returned with two pot lids. She beat them together, calling out “Everyone? Yuri has something to say!”
With the clanging, the room got quieter. Yuri swallowed and stood on a table, lifting Annika up to him. “Family, friends, Mama, Papa. First, Annika and I wish all of you a Happy Christmas! May all your days be as bright and warming as today.”
He took a quick drink. “Last year, Annika and I journeyed to the Temple of Angkor Khan.” He raised her right hand for all to see. “She and I are married.”
The room exploded with cheers and cries of “Congratulations! “Well done!” Andrei tossed relatives out of his way as he rushed the table. He lifted Annika high above his head in his beefy hands, lowered her kissed her. He set her on the ground, where Clara embraced her new daughter.
Yuri had clambered off the table, where his father engulfed him. Clara kissed her son, tears of joy streaming down her face.
“Why didn’t you tell us before, children?” Andrei asked.
“It’s complicated, Papa,” Anika explained. “Politics is the biggest reason. But we have even more joyous news for you and Clara. In a few months, our eight heir children will be born!”
“Eight?” boomed Andrei. “You don’t look like you could carry eight children.”
“They’re at the Temple, Papa,” Yuri said. “I can explain it later.”
Andrei eyed his son. “I am no fool,” he said in a low voice. “I understand how your children are being gestated.” He grabbed Yuri and hugged him fiercely. “I am so proud of you son. You and your beautiful wife.”
“We have some sad news as well,” Annika announced. “After our children are born, we will be leaving. I have joined the army to be a pilot. Yuri has joined the Medical Corps.”
The room went silent. One of the children stepped up to Annika and pulled on her sleeve, asking in a bell-like voice, “Why do you have to go away? Don’t you love us?”
The Crown Princess knelt and took the child in her arms. “I do love you,” she said. “Just as I love our family and your new cousins waiting to be born. One day I will be Empress and I need to go away to learn how to do that. Because I also love our Empire. Do you understand little one?”
“No,” the little girl pouted. “Promise you’ll come home for Christmas with Uncle Yuri. Promise.”
“I promise,” Annika vowed. “Not every year, but every year we can.”
Clara took Annika’s arm. “I am not so sure about this army you are joining. Why aren’t you and Yuri staying here? You could be very happy here. And your Mama. What will she think of all this army?” They found a quiet place and sat.
“Mama Clara, I have to do this,” Annika explained. “I will be Empress soon. I need to know how to lead my army. My
mother will understand.” Reality struck her, and she blanched. “Mother. How am I to tell my mother of all this?”
“Go see her,” Clara offered.
The Palace of Amaar on Argulea was different than she remembered. It’s been fifteen years. And I am just a little taller. The sun had set and a light rain was falling. It couldn’t wash away the sweet floral scent of millions of roses the Empress was said to adore. Annika found the odor soothing.
The guards were waiting for her. She was driven into the palace straightaway. Mother had sent a message welcoming her to Amaar, directing the time she would schedule for her daughter to visit. I hope my being here isn’t too much an inconvenience, Mother.
Annika was made to sit on a plain wooden chair and wait outside the Empress’s office for nearly an hour. Her secretary would occasionally sniff, but ignored Annika completely. The insult was clear. She was not wanted here; it was only by the greatest indulgence that the Empress would even agree to see her daughter.
A buzz came from the comm unit on the secretary’s desk. She pushed a button and listened intently. Finally, the secretary was to allow her to enter the office. “Remember who she is and who you are,” she warned. “She is the Empress of the Terran Empire. You…are not.”
The office was smaller than she would have imagined. A floor to ceiling window to her left opened out on the cool Amaar evening. It was a pleasant enough evening, the room filled with vases and planters, giving the room a complex mix of earthy aromas. Annika drank in the rich, heady fragrance.
The Empress was seated on an elegant white silken divan, sipping from an opaque cup. Annika became aware of a low, annoying buzz. The banshee was sitting behind the Empress on a wooden chair. The brown-haired girl, barely a teen, Annika thought, was shivering, and barefoot. She was dirty and wearing a dress that could be better described as a sack. An obvious look of terror adorned her face.
“Really, Child, couldn’t you have picked a decent hour to come visit your dear, loving mother?” the Empress asked. As though to prove the point, she wore a thick white brocade robe with golden patterns and golden slippers.
“I’ve been waiting an hour, Mother. Perhaps if you had been ready and on time.” Thrust and counter thrust.
“Oh, pooh, silly girl,” Her mother responded. “I had finished my day and was having supper with my dear friend Esmerelda here. You have met her, my friend I mean?” She beckoned to the banshee.
“What happened to Grenna, Mother?” Annika asked, “I thought you found her exquisite?” Annika taunted.
Annika felt a stab of pain. The poor banshee looked terrified.
Annika gritted her teeth. “Mother, stop. I came for altruistic reasons and you are hurting me. Can’t we have a single conversation where you don’t bring in your watch dogs?”
The pain decreased. Slightly.
“Whatever is it you decided to come all the way out here to visit your dear mother, Child? What could possibly be so important to you to take you away from your busy life?”
“I have come to tell you Yuri and I are married,” Annika said in a rush. She had to get out of that room, away from that Eighth-be-damned servant. “And I will be going away in March to join the Army.”
“Ah, your little Russian doctor boy,” was her mother’s catty reply. “A bit old for you, isn’t he? I suppose I should have had Intelligence look into him years ago. Did he molest you when you were underage, hmmm?”
“Mother, enough.” Annika stomped her foot. “I have come here to do the right thing and you have responded by injuring me with your banshee and wounding me with your words. Is there nothing decent you can say to your daughter?”
“Daughter?” the Empress shrieked. “Daughter? When did you decide to be my daughter? From the day I first met you on your Revelation Day, you have never treated me as your mother! Why should I even consider you as my daughter? What did I ever do to merit such resentment from you, Child?”
“You married an inferior!” Annika screamed. “My father was a powerful Khan and when he died, you replaced him with a small, vain, pitiful excuse in your bed. I could see that from the moment I laid eyes on him. How could you do that, Mother? How could you shame our family? How could you shame our line? How could you shame…ME?”
“There were forces at work you can’t conceive, Girl.”
“Forces? What forces? Had you married my Uncle Thiessen or turned the Empire over to the Imperial Council until I became of age, the Empire wouldn’t be in the state it is today,” Annika yelled.
“You can’t imagine the pressure I was under. I had such grand plans for you children. They were being threatened.” The Empress protested.
“Your plans?’ Annika roared, “Your plans. You mean to tie yourself to my father, get credit for his successes? Now I see, Mother. You didn’t love my father. You don’t love your precious Regent. You love your title! Very well.
When I reach twenty-five, as the File Committee has decreed, I will claim my rightful place as Khan. If the Regent opposes me, he will die. All who stand against me shall die. And since your title means so much to you, I will not accept the title of Empress. Until you die.”
Annika spun on a heel and marched purposely away.
Chapter 26
Three years later.
The Third Fleet orbited Mykonos Three. Dreadnaughts climbed ponderously from the low orbits they’d used to pound the Mykonos cities.
Captain Annika “Mouse” Russolov tugged at the straps of her seat. She was flying the newest class of Imperial attack craft, the Icarus Bomber, with her Weapons Officer, Rita “Sweetie” Rivas.
Their ship was the latest in Imperial design. The Icarus was diamond shaped, struts on the aft end holding two powerful sub- light engines. On top of the hull and between the engines, sat a turret containing two meson rapid fire rifles. A third rifle was in the nose, for Annika’s use. The large bomb bay in the belly contained six ground attack missiles.
Annika’s and Rita’s ship was painted mottled green and yellow. On the nose, the crew had painted “Red Queens” in bold letters.
Within the launch bay, a trolley moved the ship into position. The technicians looked the ship over and gave Annika a thumb up. “Ready, Sweetie?” she asked.
“Let’s go!!”
Annika saluted sharply and the bomber was launched into space. They circled their carrier, the ISS Vengeance, one of four orbiting Mykonos Three, each launching forty attack craft to support the drop ships.
Today, Annika was Rook Three. Her flight formed up and prepared for insertion into the planet’s atmosphere.
Annika checked instruments again. The flight leader, Major Tom “Flash” Morgan, called out, “Rook Flight, go for insertion. Call when in position and green.”
“Rook Two.”
“Rook Three,” called Annika.
“Rook Four.”
“Rook flight, here we go.” The four ships pitched their noses up and fired the small motors on those noses. They slowed and penetrated the thickening atmosphere.
“WHEEEEEE!” cried Sweetie Rivas as the Red Queens plunged. Pink and orange plasma streamed past Annika’s cockpit windows, but she scarcely noticed. Her eyes were glued to her instruments, adjusting the ship with light taps and wiggles on the controls. The glowing faded. Annika checked her instruments and called, “Rook three, green lights. Rook four, form up and let’s get down in the weeds.”
“Rook Four.”
Lieutenant Rivas interfaced with command and located her first target. She entered the information into the attack computer, saying, “Bug on target, fly the bug.” She went to work on the second target.
An indication appeared on the windscreen. Annika pointed her ship at the bug and dropped as low as she dared. This was a basic tech world, but it only took one dumb bullet to kill her. All the Rooks approached their first targets low and fast.
An indicator flashed, showing it was time to climb and release the first weapons. Annika eased back on the control stick, climb
ing to keep the ship centered on target.
“FLACK TOWER AT FOUR O’CLOCK!” screamed Rita. Annika rolled the ship to the right as she felt the “thump-thump-thump” of Rita firing her turret at the flack tower.
“One on our nose!” Annika cried. She wanted to dump the nose and streak away, but the target computer needed a few more seconds. Desperate, she mashed the trigger of her own weapon, hoping to throw the enemy gun off by spraying rounds around the tower. There was a tone, the bomb bay doors snapped open, released two weapons and snapped closed again. Annika kicked her rudder, centered the flak tower into her gun site; her forward firing meson cannon peppered the flak tower and made a satisfactory explosion.
Which was why she didn’t see the third tower, which laced the Red Queens down its right side.
“Glarpshite!” Annika cursed. The right engine shuddered and lost power. She struggled to keep the ship aloft as alarms and warning lights demanded her attention.
She felt the “thump-thump-thump” again.
“Got it,” grunted Rita. “Anni, we got orange fire on two. Get us upstairs!”
Orange fire was good. It meant fuel or fluids were burning. If it turned green or blue, it meant the engine case was on fire. That would mean ejecting. If they could get enough altitude, the escape pod could get picked up by shuttle. If not, there were a lot of angry bad guys down there, digging their butts out of just-bombed rubble.
She got the ship leveled and eased back on the stick. They began to climb. “Looking Glass, Rook Three. I’ve got an orange fire and climbing. Clear me for angels 350.” The warning lights were flickering off one by one as Rita worked her way through the emergency checklist.
Twenty thousand feet. Sixty thousand feet. Looking Glass answered their desperate call, “Rook Three, negative on climbing to angel 350. You cut through the path of a drop. Suggest you alter course to two-seven-zero and resume climb to angels one five zero.”
