by David Winnie
Noire made a surprise visit one afternoon shortly after she had returned, bounding unannounced into her office in Giza. It was a sweltering, summer day and she had the doors to her private patio open for fresh air. Noire was shining, joyful. He grabbed her out of her chair and fairly crushed her with a hug.
“Sister, so wonderful to see you! I have someone I want you to meet.” She had so missed the warm embrace of her brother.
A small girl stepped from behind Noire. Barely three feet tall, she was rail thin with long, straight dark hair. Her face was thin and pointed, her skin translucent. But her eyes, large for her face, were almond shaped and Imperial green.
“Queen Annika Raudona Russolov Khan, I should like to introduce you to your niece, Eve. Eve, this is your Auntie Annika.”
“Pleased to meet you Auntie.” Even in mindspeak, the child’s voice was like a small bird.
“I am so pleased to meet you, Eve. Come, give me a hug.”
The Queen rose from her desk and came around to the child. She knelt and wrapped her arms around the tiny girl. She felt a light tickle in her mind and snapped down her defenses.
“Eve! What have I told you about probing other people without asking first?” Noire admonished.
“I’m sorry, Father, I didn’t think…” The child’s eyes welled with tears.
Annika patted Eve’s cheek
“Shhhhhh, child. I know you meant no harm. But it is very rude to do without permission.”
“Yes, Auntie”
“How about you go out on my patio and play while your father and I talk. I’ll have Mrs. Wilson bring us a treat; I’ll come out and enjoy it with you. O.K.?” Annika ran her hand through the waif’s hair.
“May I, Father?” the child asked, excited.
“Of course. Run along, we’ll be out in a few minutes.”
The girl skipped through the patio door. Annika called Mrs. Wilson and ordered ice cream for the three of them, then sat with her brother.
“Your daughter?” Annika asked.
“The File Committee has determined that I am the penultimate Intelligence Master. As such, my file has been moved into a new category. Eve’s design is based on my own pattern. She is three now and will replace me one day. Her child will replace her. It will be my legacy to your Empire.” Noire’s pride shone through the mindspeak.
“What of her mother?”
“Sister, some questions must never be asked.” Noire’s mind shields were firm. Annika let the slight pass.
The treat arrived. A servant pushed a pristine trolley, was motioned to the patio, deposited the ice cream and departed, all in silence.
“Come, Noire, I want to know your daughter better.”
Chapter 36
Twenty-five years passed.
Robert’s plan was coming to fruition. He had graduated at the first of his class. He joined the fleet and flourished. Within five years, he commanded his own frigate. His ship was badly damaged in combat during the invasion of the Hecht Homogeny. He continued the fight, gallantly attacking a Hecht destroyer, sacrificing his own ship to destroy the enemy. His mother personally pinned the medal to his chest when he returned to Terra. He was promoted to a cruiser, then to a dreadnaught, the Behemoth.
Gart made Annika proud, as well. He forged his own path, studying at Harvard University on Luna, and then joined the Army. He proved to be a skilled warrior, garnering the loyalty of his troops in many fierce combat drops. His brain didn’t require the reprograming in adulthood that hers had. Instead, the weekly downloads to his brain sufficed. He met an attractive woman, Lyudmila, while on Christmas leave at the farm. In three years, they married and made the trip to the Temple of Angkor Khan. Her heir grandchildren delighted her to no end.
Belinda, Mary and Mercy had all married. So, had her natural born daughters, Anja and Pia, along with Thor and Yuri II. Annika and Yuri now had over thirty grandchildren and a handful of great-grandchildren.
Leonid had last passed through the Empire seven years before, bound for the Galactic Core. She received infrequent letters from him.
A candle sat in the window of their home during the holidays, along with an unused place at the table. Randle had led the first assault drop on the Hecht home world. His wave of drop ships entered a trap the Hecht had cleverly set. His own ship was hit on final approach and plummeted into the ground. The well-built ship protected most of the soldiers, but not all the ten ships were so lucky. The Colonel and Major of his unit were killed. Randle rallied the survivors and held off Hecht attacks for three days. On the fourth, a rescue mission was launched. A sniper felled Randle as he boarded the last drop ship.
His remains held a place of honor reserved for the Queen’s soldiers in the Necropolis.
Andrei and Clara had retired. At one hundred twenty, Andrei was still loud and boisterous, albeit much slower. His hair and beard were a broad sheet of iron grey around his head and chin. Susan was in a hoverchair, sharp as ever. Belinda and her family ran the farm now.
The war was going well. The invasion of the Hecht Homogeny had been touch and go. Admiral Thiessen had conceived a brilliant plan, but the Hecht were dug in and prepared. The battle to secure the home world lasted six months. Subduing the Hecht took three more years.
The losses on both sides were dreadful. The personal cost to Annika was tragic. Not only had Randle been killed, but her beloved Uncle and War Lord, Admiral Thor Thiessen had died in the final days. Annika named Admiral Laura Moss her new Warlord.
Tahn visited frequently. They were enjoying tea in the Tower of the Morning as the sun rose one spring day. The sunrise was perfect, as was the tea. Nevertheless, Annika was troubled. “Master,” she asked after the sun had ascended, “after my stroke, you said my neural pathways would eventually find their way around the damage in my brain. Every morning I awake and tell myself I love Yuri. I know I do, but I still don’t feel love. Not like I think I remember. When will I know indisputably that I love him?”
Tahn finished his tea and exhaled happily. He held up the tea cup and said casually, “Perfect. You see, Daughter? The perfect tea, in the perfect cup.” He threw the cup and smashed it against the wall. “One more, please,” he asked, holding out his hand. Annika reached for a fresh cup. “No,” he said, “Please, gather the pieces of that perfect cup.”
She stared at the splintered pieces. “Master, the cup is ruined,” she pointed out. “There is no way to reassemble that cup. Please, let me serve you in a fresh cup.” Tahn nodded and she prepared the drink. He accepted the tea, sipped and nodded. “Perfect. Thank you, Daughter. Do you understand now?”
“I think so. You are saying the relationship needs to be on different footing now?” she answered. “Because what was is gone now?”
Tahn shook his head. “Still, you are thinking too much,” he said, regret in his voice. “And time is growing short.
“Daughter, there is an ancient tale of a milkman and his wife. They lived in a time where the two halves were brought together on their wedding day. They had five daughters. Instead of following tradition, each daughter married for love instead of who the papa had chosen for them. He was thinking about this, love versus tradition, when he realized he had never asked his wife if she loved him. The fell into an argument until they realized after twenty-five years, they did love each other.
“I would say to you, Daughter,” he said as he rose to his feet for the journey down the long staircase, “you need to ask yourself the same question.”
Today was a special day, Yuri’s seventieth birthday. Annika rolled on her side and stared at her husband of nearly forty-five years. His hair had receded to a garland around his head, now grey, as was his damned moustache. Fifty years and she still couldn’t stand his moustache. And his great nose. She giggled as his nose whistled and snorted in his sleep. She had once recorded it and played it for him at lunch.
She ran her hand over his bald pate and cradled his head to her chest. He mumbled and nuzzled her breast. She giggled agai
n and held him tighter, kissing the top of his head. “You know, I could get used to waking up in a palace like this if I got to wake up with a beautiful princess every morning.” He was awake, his brown eyes shining at her.
“Well, I’d like to wake up one morning with a comfier pillow instead of your boney chest,” she retorted. “Happy birthday, Husband.”
“Harrumph!” he responded. “Tell me how happy you are when you turn seventy.”
She playfully slapped the top of his head. “Be good, you,” she admonished. “Our children and grandchildren will be here today just for you. Be pleasant and happy for them, old man.”
He kissed her and said, “Yes, Mother. I promise to be good. Mostly,” he grimaced as he stretched, “I have a doctor’s appointment first thing this morning, dear wife.”
Annika watched him shuffle to the bathroom, searched her feelings. She knew she loved Yuri. How do you feel? She couldn’t find the answer.
She went to her bathroom and started her day. They kissed again after breakfast, then went their separate ways, he to the appointment, Annika to her office. Colonel Rita Ruiz accompanied her Queen as she had for thirty years. “One of these days, you’re going to have to retire, Sweetie,” said Annika.
“When they declare that so called superior brain of yours obsolete, then you won’t need me anymore and I can happily retire to Luna Station or one of the pleasure worlds,” Rita responded.
“Yes, but my job is for life,” Annika reminded her.
“Mine, too,” was her best friend’s reply.
Mrs. Wilson stood and greeted the Queen when she arrived. How Annika missed Miss Norris’ daily admonishment of “you’re late!” Still, Mrs. Wilson was efficient. The samovar was already steaming. Annika brewed her tea and set to work. There were a few appointments this morning and with the family birthday party this afternoon, the day was a short one.
Gavin Howland was her last appointment. He still marched, his back ramrod straight, into her office. But he was approaching one hundred and had decided it was time for retirement. She left her formal desk and motioned him to the red couch.
“Highness, I have prepared this list for you, candidates for my potential replacement,” he started. “All these persons would do a fine job. My recommendation would be Admiral Hinabrian. He has served the Empire for fifty years and was a finalist for your Warlord. He and Admiral Moss have known each other for nearly all that time and they have an excellent working relationship.”
Annika pursed her lips. Admiral Hinabrian would be a fine minister, she was sure. “Set him up with an interview with me this week, Gavin,” she told him. “I don’t anticipate any issues, but I want to make sure. If I like what I see, then we’ll schedule your retirement party for the next day. After you leave.” They both chuckled, the meeting finished.
Her work day ended, Annika wandered up to the Grotto of the Blue Waters. It was still Yuri’s favorite eatery in the palace complex. He was already there when she arrived, sipping from a tall glass and gazing into the flat waters.
“How was your morning, Yuri?” she asked. Her husband handed her a piece of paper from his inside jacket pocket.
“Gods, no…” she whispered. “There must be a mistake!”
Yuri shook his head slowly. I’ve known for some time, my love,” he said sadly, “Doctor Hallal and I have run the test three times. It is Gilbert syndrome. There is no mistake.” He took her hand and kissed it.
“It’s not fair!” her voice cracked, “I am the one who is supposed to die first. “You’re supposed to get another sixty years.”
“Six months, my love,” he said in a soft voice. “Maybe less. But no more than six months.” he stared into the azure pool again. “If it’s any consolation, there will be no pain.”
A snap and crackle filled her head. “But what will I do?” she wailed, the tears flowing. All the feeling that had eluded her for years clamored for release. “You promised you’d be there for me! How will I go on without you?”
He pulled her close, her tears soaking his jacket, smoothing her long hair. “Annika, listen. I will be with you always. Whatever happens, wherever I go, I will be with you.” Suppressing his own tears, he declared, “I love you, Annika Raudona Russolov, now and forever. Come now, wipe your eyes. Our children are all here, and their children, here for a happy birthday party. Let’s go be happy together with our children.”
The party was in the gaily decorated throne room. Nearly all the children had arrived, with the grandchildren. Noire and Teresa arrived together. “I’ll be with my cousins, Father,” mindspoke Eve.
“Of course, Child. But remember, talking aloud here today,” Noire advised. “Not everyone here can mindspeak. And no scanning without permission!” The young woman stuck her tongue out at her father and sauntered to a group of her cousins.
Dohlman’s party was brilliant, as usual. Happy, gay music played. Jugglers, dancers and clowns entertained all the guests. The table groaned under the weight of the food he had arranged. The cake was tall and real chocolate. Annika sat with Yuri, holding his hand, watching their grandchildren as they ran around playing, shrieking and laughing.
It was time for the toast. Noire stood on a table and raised his glass and announced, “Today, we are here to salute my brother-in-law, Prince Doctor Yuri Andrei Russolov neKhan. And to think, there was a time, I was ready to kill you for marrying my sister.” The room roared with laughter. (“Is that true?” whispered Eve to her Aunt Teresa.) “But today, I look around and see the results of that blessed union. And how happy you have made my sister. So, nieces and nephews, my sisters and my daughter, I give you the patriarch of our family and salute you on this, your seventieth birthday. May you live to see a hundred more!” The room cheered as Annika released Yuri’s hand.
“Excuse me, my love,” she said in a low voice. “I need a moment.”
She exited the room, heading to the bathroom. She fumbled a moment with the door. “Are you all right, Mousey?” Rita asked. Annika’s eyes welled, she slammed the door closed and latched it. With the water running at full force, Annika dropped to her knees, bawling. The feeling she had been seeking for twenty-five years came flooding back with her tears. I love him. I love him...
The report had said six months. The reality was only three. Yuri and Annika moved to the farm after his birthday party. He had gathered their children in the Garden of Eternity and explained what was to happen. “Your mother and I were happiest at the guest house at the farm,” he explained. “She’ll be able to handle the affairs of the Empire from the main house. But we’ll stay at the guest house until…well, until I die. I want you to know I love you all, but your mother and I want to have these last few months for ourselves as much as possible. Belinda will keep you apprised of what happens. Aunt Teresa and Mary will be at the house. But I want you all to live your lives, make your old papa proud, O.K.?”
The summer was the finest they could recall at their old home. They took long walks in the grass. Yuri sat under the trees he had planted and read poetry to Annika as she lay her head on his lap. As the day ended, they would sit outside, hand in hand, watching the sun set.
One morning, Yuri couldn’t get out of bed. Teresa and Mary answered Annika’s panicky call. From that day on, they helped him from bed, cleaned and dressed him. Annika assisted where she could, usually fed her deteriorating husband. At night, she affixed the breather over his mighty nose and listened to make sure he breathed all night.
Yuri grew weaker and weaker. He lost his power of speech, communicating only with glances and blinks. Annika sat with him, rubbing his hands and hoping he knew she was still there.
His breathing was shallow the final night. Annika had succumbed to asleep, her head on his chest. It was time; the two healers could feel his spirit rousing and preparing to leave. Mary fitted the neutralizer to her mother’s head with loving care, while Teresa summoned the sirens. They had only just arrived and started singing when Yuri drew his last breath and exhaled
slowly.
“Yuri?” Annika was instantly awake, “Yuri?” She shook him. “Yuri, wake up! Yuri! No! Don’t leave me Yuri!” Her anguished cry threatened to split the night sky. Teresa and Mary donned neutralizers and waited while Annika screamed and wailed, calling Yuri’s name.
Suddenly, she straightened, tearless. Her emerald eyes flashed black.
“For Ten Thousand Years, Yuri! I will love you for ten thousand years.” Then she collapsed.
Chapter 37
“I am all powerful time which destroys all things and I have come here to slay these men. Even if thou does not fight, all warriors facing me shall die.”
-The Bhagavad Gita
Twenty years later
They gathered here under the naked stars. Each was aware of the gravity of this meeting, none save the stars would bear witness. The ancient monolith stood silent in the sands as it had for eleven thousand years. The three colossal tombs towered behind them.
They gathered in the silent darkness, for conspirators were always more secure when discussing such things in the dark. The whole of the family had been debating it amongst themselves. A decade ago, this would have been unspeakable. Tonight, the unspeakable had to be decided.
The eight were gathered in a circle. A ninth, unseen but felt, circled them watching for intruders. She was good at this kind of work, perhaps as good as her father. Time would tell.
They spoke in hushed voices. Mindspeaking could be overheard.
“It is decided then,” said Noire.
“Nothing is decided, Uncle,” countered Mercy. “We are here to discuss this thing, I thought.”
