I kick up my board and begin the journey back to my friends.
They were still asleep, heads poking from their sleeping bags as if they were butterflies caught emerging from their cocoons. Moving quietly around the room, very gently I caressed their hair: Athena’s wild black locks, Nathan’s golden bangs, Milan’s crewcut. He stirred.
“Ghost? What time is it?”
“Hush, it’s early. Go back to sleep.”
This part of the City was noisy at dawn, but not with the rumble of traffic. The hideout was near an old, overgrown park, and it was birdsong that enlivened the new day. My patience was infinite and it was pleasant to sit here, watching over them.
It was Athena who awoke first; I sensed the change in her breathing, her heart rate. She flung out an arm, groping for her glasses.
“Oh, hi, Ghost. I’m glad you’re back. Defiance has made the top one hundred!” She sat up, eager, and her enthusiasm woke the others. No sooner had she spoken than she unrolled her computer, her bedside companion, to check.
“Ninety-seventh and still on the way up. We’ve got the right to attend the High Council, and there’s one tonight! The Dark Queen is going to be there; she’s making an address. The newscasts are full of our promotion; they’re posting everywhere, trying to get an interview with me, to see what stance we’re taking.”
“What are you going to do there?” I asked her, startled at the normality of my voice.
“Impeach the Dark Queen. Of course, we’ll lose the vote ninety-nine to one, but still, I’ll enjoy the moment, and it will be good publicity for Defiance.”
The idea of Athena challenging the top guilds on their own ground made me laugh. “You chose a really appropriate name for your guild.”
“Yeah, thanks. So, what happened with you and Michelotto? Did you make contact with Erik?”
“Yes. He left this for us.” I handed her a circular bone case. She squinted at the baroque writings carved along the surface. “It’s got a scroll inside, a spell. ‘True Speaking’ is what he called it.”
“Oh, interesting. If it works.”
Milan sat up with a yawn. “I hate mornings. Good to see you, Ghost.”
“You, too, Milan.”
“Ghost, you’re back?” Nathan rolled over and blinked, taking a moment to focus on me. “I was worried about you.”
“That’s good to know, but actually you don’t need to worry about me—not ever.” Could they not see that I had changed? That I had climbed out of the darkness of my past, to be Ghost and Ghost alone? Good, because I wouldn’t want to lose them.
“So, will you come with me, Ghost? I’m worried about the Dark Queen’s reaction,” Athena continued.
“To the High Council? I’d be delighted, but am I allowed?”
“Yes, as my secretary.”
“Good.”
Athena gave a slight grimace and looked at me apologetically. “There is one thing, sorry. There’s a lot of protocols. Like our clothes; they must not contain colors of cards above our status. In other words, it’s red for us.”
“Red and black. How appropriate.”
“Would you mind using your cards to buy us new gear? I don’t have the credit.”
“Of course not.”
Chapter 34
WAX BEFORE FIRE
How dare they? They will regret such impudence. We stare again at the motion.
The Grand High Council resolves to impeach the Dark Queen for tyranny and we resolve, having dismissed her from office, to take into our own hands full responsibility for the running of society.
It has been four generations since We were obliged even to answer questions from these baboons. Some upstart is asking Us to demonstrate Our full power. Or perhaps this is another ruse by Michelotto, to draw Us out?
“Which guild initiated the censure?”
Our Grand Vizier is nervous. He does not meet Our eye with his former confidence.
“Defiance, Your Majesty.”
“Ahh, yes, We guessed it. You are witnessing the unfolding of a plan by Michelotto; it is surprisingly masterful. You recall how he won the aircar race for those children?”
“Yes, indeed, Your Majesty.”
“The reason for that intervention now becomes clear. He sought to gain publicity for a new guild, one that was loyal to him rather than Us: Defiance. Now that the guild has reached the top one hundred, he uses it to provoke Us and to try to arouse opposition.”
The Grand Vizier does not speak, but acknowledges Our point with a dip of his head.
“What view does your guild, Respect, take on the motion?”
He stiffens.
“Why, Your Majesty, we are shocked at the temerity and insolence of it. How dare anyone, let alone a new guild, challenge the centuries-old experience of the success of Your rule? Defiance is the pathetic and squalid expression of ignorant people who have no understanding of good governance.”
He speaks with genuine passion, and We deign to smile approvingly.
“Moreover, we feel that the legislative measure they have proposed is illegal and that if Your Majesty wished to ban the High Council altogether, we would consider the action entirely appropriate and offer our unequivocal support.”
“Excellent. Respect has always been a guild upon which We have relied.” Strictly speaking, that statement is incorrect, for We can remember a time—oh, more than a thousand years ago—when Respect was affiliated to Our rivals, but We wish to reward the Grand Vizier’s fine words. We enjoy the visible swelling of his breast in response to Our praise. Our Grand Vizier becomes inflated with patriotic loyalty to his queen, as is entirely proper. “Respect will be further rewarded in time. But for now, We have decided to let the council convene and to attend it.”
“Your Majesty?”
It is not Our custom to share Our thinking, but in this case We are willing to let him into Our understanding; he is clearly very intelligent, for a non-RAL.
“Michelotto is bluffing. He hopes for precisely the overreaction that you advocate in order to arouse the lower-status population against Us further. He wants Us to be angry at the council. But We will not be bluffed. We intend to address the High Council as planned, to allay all concerns about the recent incursions by the aliens.” The Grand Vizier nods but looks uncertain. “Moreover, We shall use the occasion to make an example of those who dared allow themselves to be the tool of Our enemies. We shall not let Defiance escape from the High Council unscathed.” This time, he is convinced; a slight smile plays at the corners of his thin mouth.
“Very well, Your Majesty.”
“We shall dress. Go to the amphitheater; take the Imperial Guard with you and prepare it with the tightest possible security measures. Michelotto may be in the vicinity, looking for the opportunity to attack us.”
The Grand Vizier nods and departs. Naturally a RAL such as Michelotto can circumvent any measures taken by Our guards, but there is no harm in making sure that he cannot bring any supporters into the amphitheater. Furthermore, having something to do will keep the morale of Our staff high.
The Millennium Amphitheater lies among great wide highways and low, flat factories, in what would once have been considered a peripheral part of the City. But recently there had been a great deal of development around it, with blue amenities and tall residential complexes replacing the factories. The amphitheater itself was given a huge pale-silvered roof, curving down from a central support, to make it seem as though a vast canvas tent had been thrown over it. The covering was, in fact, made from layers of carbon-reinforced epoxy, held off the ground by thousands of steel struts.
A helicopter circled overhead, filling the night sky with the heavy beat of its blades; it projected a spotlight, which slid along the gleaming roof of the amphitheater, making the tent glisten as though awash with moonlight. Vast crowds lined the road leading to the plaza that held the Millennium Amphitheater. Their mood was good-natured; they were here to see the celebrities, to cheer their own guild leaders, a
nd out of pure curiosity at the unprecedented event. Newscast crews ran up and down a slow-moving line of luxury aircars, seeking interviews.
Because we were on airboards, we could cut and glide through the traffic without having to wait. The newscast presenters barely gave us a second glance: just a group of kids, messing about, trying to get themselves some attention. Even the functionaries at the entrance to the amphitheater treated us as a gang of troublesome punks. Well, perhaps we were.
“Beat it, kids. You’ve got thirty seconds or it’s the van for you.” An imperial guard, face completely covered by his helmet, waved his rifle toward a large police vehicle that was standing nearby, rear doors open, ready to hold those arrested for disorder. The van was a visible message to the large crowd, dense here at the focus of the assembling dignitaries.
“Defiance. Guild leader.” Athena came to a halt in front of the guard and kicked down her board. “Secretary.” She pointed to me. “Escort.” A gesture toward Milan and Nathan.
“Defiance?” A newscast technical man in overalls looked up in surprise. He turned, cupped his hands, and shouted, “Janet, over here! Defiance!” A camera swiveled and flew over, followed by a presenter whose blond perm bounced as she hurried, leaving an elderly guild leader standing agape in midcomment.
“Defiance!” The crowds pressed a little closer against the cords that restrained them, curious, interested, and in some cases smiling supportively.
“Athena, guild leader of Defiance. Why have you proposed the impeachment of the Dark Queen? Just what is it that you hope to achieve?” The presenter tried to put an aggressive tone into her voice.
“Wait and see.” Athena pushed past the interviewer, to insert her card in a reader, which blinked; Milan and Nathan did the same. The guard stood aside. With only a hint of hesitation, I also placed a card in the reader. The reformatted stolen red should have been good, but as a precaution, I filtered the passage of time, and, as the world staggered along metronomically, I felt the response of the reader: good, there was no problem.
Beyond the first set of doors was a large foyer, busy with motion and conversation. The areas near the free refreshment bars were congested, as were those in front of the large screens on which played the interviews being conducted outside.
We made our way through the room, a line of red on a canvas of blue. The large numbers of people from the other guilds in this reception area made our progress awkward, but there was just enough room to pass without actually being jostled.
A group of imperial guards stood around the interior doors, pulse rifles in hand. Every person passing into the amphitheater had first to walk through a metal detector.
“We’ll be out here.” Nathan was subdued. Only the guild leaders and their secretaries could go into the chamber. Unexpectedly Nathan gave me a hug. “Take care in there.”
“We’ll be fine; don’t worry.”
Milan saluted us, wished us good luck, then turned toward the refreshment bar. “I wonder if they give out free jeebies here.”
Once again, we had to run our cards through a reader and, once again, I carefully monitored mine. The response was smooth and unproblematic. Beyond the metal detector, beyond the line of guards, was an elderly man dressed in a three-piece suit and wearing white gloves.
“Ladies, might I see your cards?”
If he was shocked that we were only reds, he did not show it. Rather, he looked us carefully up and down. Athena had read the rules thoroughly, and we were dressed accordingly. Our tops, long black shirts-cum-dresses, were worn over black jeans and black sneakers. A large print ran across the chest; it was the Defiance tag, in scarlet rather than its conventional olive color. A line of small red owls ran down the outside of Athena’s jeans, while, thanks to Nath, I had a vermilion ♥ upon my back.
“I’m sorry, Madam, but you will have to remove those.” The usher indicated with a raised, trembling finger that he objected to Athena’s turquoise earrings.
“That’s no bother.” She took them out with a shrug.
“Please, go ahead. Ninety-seven is to your right, top row.” The usher held open the door for us.
Subdued lighting illuminated the vast room beneath the canopy. It was a D shape, with rows of seats running all the way around the curved section. We were standing at the top of an aisle that descended in long, wide stairs to the floor of the arena. There was sufficient room between each row to allow us to walk comfortably in front of those already seated. Naturally we got a good deal of attention, mainly in the form of surprised stares from those we passed. We glared right back at women in exquisite gem-clad dresses and men in suits whose shirt cuffs and collars were fanciful embroideries of indigo and violet cloth. No one else here was under fifty years of age.
Our seats were so far around as to be near the straight wall, giving us a difficult, shallow view of the screen that filled it. We had a side-on view of the podium in the center of the wide floor space. Athena took the guild seat; I was on her right. The people to either side of us were talking in whispers; they took furtive glances at us, careful not to meet our eyes. Those seated in the ranks below us turned their heads from time to time, with quick, curious looks.
This was to be the first occasion on which I would be in the actual presence of the Dark Queen, and I was on edge. Lying in the foam outline of her body at the white dome, aware of her scent, had been an intimate experience. She and I had shared a taste of the vastness of the universe beyond. The fact that the Dark Queen was a RAL meant that I felt I knew her. She was extremely dangerous. I was surprised at my willingness to sit here, knowing that soon she would be in the arena below. It was extraordinary testimony to how I had changed. I was awake to my full powers, and I no longer felt the need to hide. In any case, I could not have let Athena come here unprotected.
The last of the seats had been taken. A hush spread through the amphitheater, and a frisson of anticipation rippled through the chamber. As the blare of trumpets resounded from the communication system, a bright light came from the screen. Then the main doors opened and into the room walked the Dark Queen, with twenty imperial guards in her wake.
Athena turned to me and widened her eyes. “That’s explicitly forbidden in the constitution. The troops.”
Our entry into the High Council is proud. Look upon Us, ye aspirant mighty, and despair. They murmur at the presence of Our guards. Let them; none will dare contradict Us. A spotlight picks out the podium and We ascend it, a circle of guards around us, vigilantly watching the audience. Behind Us on the screen, an echo of Our movements, of Our expressions, large enough for all to see and to tremble. The theme of Our dress is power. Power, in this context, is violet. Our silver crown has one hundred sapphires embedded within it. As We move Our head, it scatters flashes of light throughout the entire amphitheater. Those watching Us are blinking, and the pulsating image left on their retinas is violet. Our dress is iridescent satin, a sharp V-line bodice and long skirt, both decorated with spirals of ultramarine lapis gems.
Before We speak, We pause, both to allow their suspense to grow and to survey the scene with the only instruments that are completely reliable against a RAL, Our own eyes. Michelotto is almost certainly out there somewhere, distorting the air around him, wearing it like a cloak.
“You sit here, the Grand High Council, at a time of great disturbances.” Our voice needs no amplification; We let it ring out, fierce and indomitable. “You will have noticed the appearance of many new people in the City and, recently, their equally surprising disappearance. Ladies and gentlemen, Saga has recently been subjected to invasion by aliens.” We pause to let their gasps fade away.
“Until recently, an alien satellite has been secretly orbiting Our world. From this satellite the aliens have been inserting themselves into Our society through a form of projection. Direct conquest of Our society is impossible, so they sought to come to power by infiltrating themselves among us. This insidious development was accompanied by attempts to confuse us all, such
as that notorious broadcast on Newscast 1.
“Fear not, however, for the danger is at an end. We located and destroyed the satellite, bringing about their abrupt removal.” Enthusiastic cheers and cries of joy. We acknowledge them with a slow nod of Our head, careful not to disturb the powdered ringlets. “You must have questions; please, ask them.”
Not a soul dares to speak. At last, Respect makes a signal.
“Respect.”
“Not a question, Your Majesty, but an impromptu motion. That the High Council expresses its gratitude on behalf of all the people of Saga, that our safety lies in the hands of someone whose judgment and power are beyond compare.”
The hall fills with cheers and shouts. We smile. Now is a good time to take the next business.
“Unfortunately Our constitution does not allow for impromptu motions. But We do have one tabled before Us for Our consideration. May We ask the mover to identify herself.”
The spotlights pick her out, far above us to the left, in the outermost ring of the amphitheater. A young girl, with her long black hair all awry. She stands.
“Athena, Defiance. I move that the High Council impeach the Dark Queen.”
A satisfactory commotion, shouts of anger: How dare you? Shocking! Sit down! We let the outrage swell, then raise Our hands as a signal that it should fade. Very quickly there is silence and, from the liquid glints of eager eyes in the darkness, We detect the urge for violence. They wish the young girl to be struck down for her impudence.
Saga Page 26
