by David Winnie
Annika woke with a headache. A dull throb in the front of her head, between her temples, in the place where she could hear her thoughts when she spoke to herself.
Yuri was already gone. She considered checking to make sure he hadn’t left the planet. No, he wouldn’t do that. He was angry, but he always restrained himself. It was a trait in her husband she admired. “Dohlman!” she cried. He appeared as always, unflappable and attentive. Annika explained her problem and Dohlman popped out and returned with a glass of clear liquid.
“Asperinium,” he explained. “Doctor Bond’s standing protocol for headaches.”
It helped, slightly. Annika went through her day with the dull ache between her temples. Fortunately for her, the bulk of the day was preparing for tomorrow’s Naming Day. At lunch, she went to the Grotto of the Blue Waters, always a place of calm water, darkness and cool temperatures. Normally, Yuri lunched with her, but he wasn’t returning her calls today. His office reported he was in, but every time she called he was in conference or with a patient.
Supper was a strained, silent affair. Robert wasn’t there and Yuri didn’t ask anyone about their day. Annika’s headache hadn’t eased, so she excused herself and went to bed, pulling the covers over her head. Yuri joined her after a few hours. “Are you all right?” he asked. “I know you are angry with me, but you are acting strangely today.”
“I have a headache,” was the muffled reply from under the covers. “And yes, I am angry. You’re not helping. Don’t be such an arse and come to bed.”
“Let me see your eyes.” It was a firm command, Doctor Yuri speaking. Annika had heard that tone enough over the last twenty-five years. She made an exasperated noise as she extricated herself from her coverlet to sit up. His ever present and truly annoying flashlight shone in each eye, one at a time. “Hmmm,” he remarked. “Normal. I shall ask Tahn and his Proctors to look, after the Naming Ceremony.”
Annika burrowed beneath her covers once again. “It’s just a headache, but if it will make you feel better,” came her stifled voice. “Now, be quiet. I am trying to sleep.”
Naming Day! The celebrated day across the Empire as the heirs were formally recognized as adults and the new Crown Prince or Princess was announced.
The plaza was impressive. The vast white stone had been cleaned and polished until it developed a pearlescent sheen. Banners of the previous Khans hung on the walls of the palace, demonstrating the history of the line and foretelling a promise of the future.
The Queen sat quietly, recalling her own Naming Day twenty-two years ago. So much had changed! She was forty now, no longer an impulsive, rebellious child. She was married and a mother. She had the Empire she had labored for the first half of her life. Everything she wanted was at her fingertips
Nearly everything. She sat in the antechamber, waiting for the ceremony to begin, Yuri sitting as far from her as possible. He was wearing a resplendent morning suit, as opposed to the Medical Corps uniform he was entitled to. Annika herself was wearing her uniform, as she felt she should in a time of war.
She suddenly felt foolish. When was there a time the Empire wasn’t at war? Even on her own Naming Day, war wasn’t far off. Indeed, her whole life centered on that horrid day. Ming si, perpetrator of the murders of her siblings, hadn’t worn a uniform.
“Where are you going?” Yuri asked, still reading his pad.
“I think I should change,” she said, “Maybe this uniform is wrong. I should be wearing something happy, joyful. I have a closet of nice dresses; Dohlman will know which would be best.” She filled her lungs to call him.
There isn’t time, my love,” Yuri assured her. “The ceremony begins in a few minutes. You look just fine. Sit down and wait. How are you feeling? Do you still have your headache this morning?”
How am I feeling? That old question popped up again. “My headache is fine,” she told him, pondering the question. She was forty. Her eldest children were about to embark on the rest of their lives. She had everything she could possibly want.
And she was miserable. Yes, that was the word. Miserable.
Dohlman appeared. “Ma’am, Sir, it is time.” Yuri crossed the room and held out his hand. They stood at the graceful French doors, waiting. Annika looked up at her husband. “Yuri, am I still pretty?”
He kissed her bump of a nose as did the Yuri of old. “Of course, my love,” he answered. “The most beautiful woman I have ever known.”
The doors opened to a fanfare and they stepped out into the sun before the adoring multitude.
The ceremony was far longer than Annika remembered. She listened to the story she had loved as a child, the tale of the great Angkor Khan. That she was part of the long recitation as the fifteenth reincarnation took her breath away for a second. The children stepped forward and announced themselves to the universe: Randle Raudona-Russolov, Mary Raudona-Russolov, Belinda Raudona-Russolov, and Dorian Raudona-Russolov. Yuri’s hand found hers: Violet Raudona-Russolov, Mercy Raudona-Russolov, Leonid Raudona-Russolov and finally Gart Raudona-Russolov. Never before had all the heirs done this honor to their parents. The couple were in tears of happiness.
Tahn led the File bonzes to the dais. “It has been my pleasure to have served the descendants of Angkor Khan for ninety-five years. Today, I will step down from the File Committee, with your permission, Highness, following our pronouncement.” Annika nodded and Tahn stepped back in line. The ritual she had witnessed twenty-two years before was now performed in front of the trillions of the Empire. The chant, the golden envelopes, the tearing.
Eight green slips of paper.
Annika felt a twinge of jealously. His brothers and sisters bowed to him first while the Empire erupted with joy over the promise of the handsome, young Khan. This was his day, a day denied to her when the enemy within and without tried to assassinate her. The new Crown Prince was before his parents and bowing low. Could barely hear his mother direct, “Rise, Crown Prince Gart Raudona-Russolov.” They embraced and she had to yell to be heard. “Go with Tahn and the others. Send my greetings to our ancestors.”
Her remaining seven elder children were waiting for their parents in the family quarters. Annika sat in her chair amongst them. “Children, your mother and I are so proud of you,” Yuri said. “Today, you are adults in the eyes of our people.”
“But you will always be our children,” Annika added. “Wherever your travels take you, whoever you become, your papa and I want you to know you’ll always have a place in our home and in our hearts. We’d like to hear your plans.”
Dorian and Violet were the first to stand. “Mother, Papa, we must take our leave, immediately. We are accompanying Master Tahn and the elders back to Angkor Khan’s Temple,” said Dorian. “I have been accepted as an adept. In two years, I will travel to Vinith to learn their bio-engineering technology. It is my hope to one day be on the File Committee. Violet has chosen to take the oath and become a servant of silence.” Tearfully, Annika and Yuri held the two children. Violet mouthed “I love you, Mommy” as they exited.
Randle stood. “I have accepted a scholarship at Lee Military College in the Tarchment system. It is my hope to become an Army Officer. I will leave at the end of the summer.”
“Aunt Teresa has spoken with the Witches at Scarborough,” Mary’s voice was bell-like to the ear. “I will journey there with her when she leaves and train to be a healer.” With a smile on her face, she told her mother, “You said long ago I reminded you of her. I am honored to follow in her footsteps.”
“I will be attending Moscow University,” Belinda said, “close to Grandfather Andrei and Grandmother Clara. One day, I will manage the family farm.”
“I will go to Vespa, Saint Francis University,” Mercy spoke now. “I loved your stories of being there, Mother, and I have always loved visiting Vespa.”
Leonid jumped to his feet. “All this talk of schooling and farming and such sounds wonderful,” he exclaimed. “Me? I’m shipping out on a scout as an ordinary spa
ceman next week, headed for the Rim. I want to get out and see the universe before I settle down and find a j-o-b.” His laugh was a perfect imitation of his grandfather Andrei’s.
“We are both so very proud of you, “said Yuri. “Your mother and I love you. Please, come visit when you can and do be home for Christmas? Otherwise your mother will be so disappointed.”
“Our children are leaving us, Yuri.” She lay in bed, turned away again.
Yuri set down his pad. “It is what we have been doing for the last eighteen years,” he told her, “Working, watching, teaching. So, when today came, they would be ready to move on to their future.” He contemplated for a moment, and added “and the future is today. Is it what you expected?”
“No.” she replied in a near whisper. “But I’m glad they selected Gart.”
I expect he’s leaving the Hall of the Khans now, yes?” he asked.
“It depends where his meditations lead him.”
“Where did your meditations lead you?” he queried.
“Here,” she answered, “This place. With you. With my family. Building my Empire. Right where I am supposed to be. Getting the Empire ready for when I hand it over to my son.”
In her dreams, the solemn words from their wedding night came back to her: Still others find their other half, but only receive a half measure of life. Tahn’s words.
“One half dies before the other,” Annika said somberly.
“Yes.”
There was a long silence.
“How many years do I have, Master Tahn?” Annika asked.
Their room felt so empty this morning. Yuri had been getting up and leaving early the last few days. Annika hoped he would be with her this morning. “Dohlman?” she called. When he appeared, she asked, “Where is my husband?”
“He left an hour ago,” the holographic servant answered. “He was on his way to the spaceport.”
He wouldn’t! Annika’s psyche was in an uproar. Yuri wouldn’t sneak out and leave her, would he? Her headache returned, pounding and fierce. Her eyes rolled at its onset and she gasped.
“Ma’am?” Dohlman queried.
“Clothing, car,” she breathed.
“What of your morning grooming and supplements?” asked Dohlman.
“Damn you, I said clothing and a car, NOW!” She was in physical agony. There was a ringing in her ears. When her clothing appeared, she dressed hurriedly and ran to her hovercar. Rita was waiting,
“What’s going on, Mouse?” she asked.
Annika only said, “Spaceport,” and climbed in the back of the car. Rita worried, as Annika was groaning and holding her head as they raced through the streets of Cairo.
“Mousey, what’s going on? How can I help?” she asked. Annika pushed her away and continued to writhe and groan.
At the spaceport, Annika jumped out of the car before it stopped moving. The crowds gasped when they saw who was coming and moved out of her way.
The white and gold Vatican ship was near the far end of the terminal. Yuri was there, shaking hands and holding his small black bag. Annika strode up to her husband, grabbed his arm, spun him about and leveled him with a punch to his face. “Wha-what are you doing?” she screeched at his prone form. “I told you no, you can’t go with them!”
Then the world began rocking back and forth, illuminated by bright flashes. “You. You…AH!” She screamed as her head felt as it were being ripped in two. In agony, she clapped her hands to her ears, trying to shut out the ringing. Dropped to a knee. She barely heard the voices calling to her.
Annika, Goddess/Queen of the Terran Empire, sank to the floor. The voices were in her head now, a disjointed reverberation screaming between her hands. Her eyes began to flicker, black to green and back again. She opened her mouth to scream as she flopped onto the floor and began to convulse. Yuri grabbed his wife, shouting her name. She could hear him, but couldn’t understand what he was saying. She tried to call out to him, begging for help.
She heard a pop. Then coolness and grey. A blissful grey cloud enveloped her and gave her peace.
Chapter 35
This grey, foggy place was comfortable, serene. It smelled nice, also - fresh, like the steppe after the first rain following a long dry spell. She didn’t feel anything save this warm, comfortable place of fluffy grey.
“Annika!” That annoying sound again. It came and went. She wished it would go away. She was happy here. Peaceful.
“Annika! My love, it’s time to wake up. Please wake up? I need to see your pretty green eyes. Please wake up.”
The noise was familiar. It made her feel…loved? Safe? It was a nice voice. Now she didn’t mind it was disturbing her, not so much. Maybe she would open her eyes.
Oh! It was bright! She snapped the eye closed, then opened it again, cautiously. Someone hovered. He looked familiar. She searched her mind, trying to remember. Yuri. Her secret place told her that was Yuri.
She opened both eyes now. He wept, holding her hands. “That’s it, my love, open your eyes. Oh, Annika, I’ve missed you so much.” She smacked her lips; her mouth was so dry. While she attempted to respond, a raspy croak was all she could manage.
A young girl appeared on her other side. “Here, Mother, let me help.” Something moist touched her lips. Annika closed her mouth around it, sucked greedily. The sponge was withdrawn and then returned, offering more of the minty, sweet moisture.
Now a cup appeared at her lips. Annika tried to gulp, and it was removed. “That’s better,” he told her, “but not too much. Just a bit, my love.” She was remembering. This was Yuri. Her husband. Her best friend. Her knight in shining armor. The girl was…Belinda. Her daughter. She wanted to sit up. “Shhh, let me get that, Mom,” her daughter said. The bed whined and her upper body was raised.
“Yuri.” She reached out to him. He pressed her hand to his lips, salted it with his tears. “Where am I?” she asked.
“The Temple at Angkor Khan,” he told her. “You collapsed at the spaceport. Fortunately, we had several neurosurgeons available. The Vatican ship was transporting a blue wave scanner; we determined your neural pathways had suffered an overload, and began a physical breakdown in your cerebrum. Your programing shut you down before too much damage was done. We flew you here so Tahn could examine you. He and the Proctors have repaired the damage. You’re going to be better soon, my love.”
Tahn and several Proctors entered the room. “Ah, wonderful, Daughter! You have regained consciousness. The repairs and reprograming has worked.” Annika was awake now. On hearing the word “reprograming” something compelled her to look under the covers. She was wearing pajamas. A memory flashed and she smiled.
“What happened to me?” she asked her creator. Tahn sat on a chair offered by the Proctor.
“You had a stroke,” he explained. “A series of events that we had not adequately prepared your programing for created a loop, trying to reconcile an unfamiliar set of data back on itself. The strain on your physical brain tore loose several capillaries. To protect itself, your programing shut you down. Your husband recognized what was happening and had you flown straight to us. We sealed off the damaged area and rerouted your neural pathways. From there, it’s been all you, waiting for you to decide to regain consciousness.”
Yuri squeezed her hand as he told her, “Two years. I’ve been waiting for you for two years.
She smiled and squeezed his hand. “But who’s been running my Empire?” she asked.
“Gart,” he told her. “You prepared him well. From the moment you collapsed, he seized control and ruled in your place. The transition was seamless; your government followed his orders as though they were coming from you. He has performed magnificently. You should be very proud. I know I am.”
Physically, Annika recovered quickly. By the evening, she was taking her first, unsteady steps. The next morning, she had regained enough of her strength to accompany Yuri and Belinda to breakfast. Within a week, she was running five miles in the morning.
Annika knew she loved her family, but there was no excitement, no joy in her when they arrived. She was anxious to return to Giza, to get back to work. Her Empire needed her. She expressed her frustration to Tahn.
“I was afraid of this,” he told her. “The areas of your brain that suffered the most from your stroke was your emotional seat. I don’t doubt you love Yuri and your children. But the part of your brain that feels that love is being bypassed right now.”
“Will I ever recover that part of my brain?” wailed Annika. “I don’t want to live knowing I loved Yuri, but not being able to feel that love.” Her lip quivered and her eyes swelled with tears.
“I don’t know,” Tahn replied. “This will be your bitterest tea of all. I have no answer for you, Daughter. All I can offer is you know are loved. The love for your family is inside you. Finding this love will be the greatest challenge in the balance of your life. In the meantime, I think it’s time for you to return to Giza, back to your duties as Queen.”
Her office was familiar. Sadly, Miss Norris had died during the Queen’s illness. Her replacement, Mrs. Wilson, was able enough. But Annika missed the dour secretary that she had worked with so long. In despair one afternoon, she called “Dohlman!” He appeared as always at her elbow. “Dohlman, you’re a holographic servant attached to this place. Is it possible to have a holographic representation of Miss Norris to be my secretary?”
Dohlman shook his head. “Not legally, Ma’am,” he told her. “I was a servant in this place nearly twelve hundred years ago. When I was dying, Emperor Jacober Khan asked my permission to become what you see today. I was only too glad to give my permission, serving the Khans and their families. You didn’t have Miss Norris’s permission, so the Right of Privacy prevents doing as you ask. I am sorry, Ma’am.”
