The Hidden World

by Melinda Snodgrass

  “The Gold, so you shouldn’t have any trouble winding old Kartirci around your finger.”

  “It’s so good to see you.”

  “And you.” They leaned forward and embraced again.

  “When are you heading back?” Mercedes asked.

  “Day after tomorrow. I’ll make the obligatory call on the paterfamilias and let mama cry over me.” She stood. “You be careful, Mer.”

  “The problem is going to be finding them. I’m not worried about killing them once we do. That’s the easy part.”

  * * *

  “The consort, ma’am.” Jaakon smooth and elegant as always. Managing to convey with three words both deference and admiration when Mercedes suspected he felt neither. Boho strode past her secretary as if he were part of the furniture.

  She ignored him and instead addressed her secretary. “Thank you, Jaakon. Do you have those manifests for me?”

  “Momentarily, Highness.”

  She waved him out and looked up into Boho’s face. He was leaning across the desk, using his height to loom over her. “So imagine my surprise when I went looking for my wife this morning only to discover her batBEM packing for her. I thought perhaps a dedication or a funeral, but then I noticed no dresses, no jewelry, no make-up—just uniforms. When were you planning on telling me?”

  “Tonight.” Mercedes pinched the bridge of her nose.

  “That damn Hajin wouldn’t tell me a goddamn thing. What are you doing? What is this mission?”

  “I’m going after the corsarios.”

  The slap of his palms on the desktop was like a pistol shot. “And it never occurred to you that perhaps I ought to lead that effort.”

  Anger blazed through her; she leaped to her feet, rested her hands on the desk, and leaned in on him. “Since we’re in this situation because of you, no, I did not consider it. Not for one moment. You want to take a bow after this? Be the big hero? You caused this. You will stay here and do my job, which is tedious and boring and necessary because the work of actually governing isn’t glamorous or exciting, but it has to be done and maybe for once you could help me instead of just making my life harder!”

  She was panting as if the violence of her feelings had stopped her lungs. There was a flash of hurt in those green eyes, but it was momentary. “Well, I see our detente didn’t last long,” he said.

  “And why would you think what happens in the bedroom has any bearing?”

  “Because that’s how a normal woman would react,” he shot back.

  It hurt. Twenty-three years of marriage and she had never known that passion that poets celebrated. Her experience between the sheets had never matched what was described in the romance novels she had read as a girl. Truth was she sometimes dreaded her and Boho’s coupling. It had been duty interspersed with the occasional flash of pleasure. Given Beatrisa’s sexual preference Mercedes sometimes worried that perhaps she too had those tendencies. While homosexuality was accepted in League society so long as the males donated sperm and women had babies, it would not do for the heir to the throne. Even her great-great-grandfather had married and sired six children while keeping his male lover in the small palace she now inhabited.

  “I’m not like your little chippies—”

  “Well that’s clearly evident—”

  “—who can be lulled by your gifts and caresses.”

  He took a turn around the office. The clenching and unclenching of his hands betrayed the internal struggle, but when he returned to her the anger had been smoothed from his face and he had his ingratiating expression that made him seem younger than his forty-four years.

  “You’re right, cariño, I made some bad decisions. I couldn’t have foreseen the outcome, but now that it’s happened let me clean up the mess that I may have inadvertently caused. Let me go. Make it up to you.”

  For an instant she wavered. He was popular, not only with the citizens of the League but with the military. Which is why you shouldn’t. She had been the workhorse, the drudge toiling in an office. He had been the dashing consort, duque and flag captain paying calls on planetary governors when his squadron stopped for supplies. Being in the news and the public eye.

  “No.” She walked to the door and opened it. “Rely on Jaakon, he knows everything and is more organized than any computer.”

  The anger was back. He paused in the doorway. Looked from her to the secretary and back again. “I would prefer to bring in my own person. Someone loyal to me who isn’t lusting after my wife.”

  The blood drained from Jaakon’s face leaving him almost gray. Boho had an uncanny ability to stab at an opponent’s weakest point. She and Jaakon had carefully ignored what Boho had laid bare.

  “Given the behavior of your previous confederates forgive me if I declare that to be a non-starter. I want somebody in this job whom I can trust.”

  “Gracias, Mercedes. I guess that tells me what you think of me.”

  “You know that isn’t how I meant it!” she said and they both knew it was a lie.

  “Fine, keep your little spy in place. I’m sure he’ll dutifully report any transgression I might commit.”

  Boho stormed from the office. So much for fixing the situation, Mercedes thought. Jaakon carefully straightened every object on his desk while never lifting his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time.

  “Please, Highness, you first.”

  “I apologize for my husband. That accusation was uncalled for.”

  Jaakon ducked his head. “I’m sorry if my behavior has ever given cause for you or anyone to think—”

  “No one does,” she said quickly. She returned to her office, shut the door, and leaned against it. And now I know everyone does. It really is best if I go away. Give them all something else to think and gossip about.

  * * *

  When Mercedes was a child only one front pew was reserved for the royal family. Now they had two to accommodate the spouses of the various daughters and their numerous offspring. When they were all assembled, generally at Christmas, they could damn near mount a platoon. Not that they were all present all the time. With most of the sisters now married they visited the capital rarely, instead residing on various planets with their noble husbands. Only Estella, Carisa, and Tanis still lived in Hissilek.

  The thought of Tanis had Mercedes glancing across the nave to where her half-sister sat among her fellow nuns in the Celestial Novias de Cristo. The order was dedicated to the bearing of children sired by priests. It was all in furtherance of the goal of the church’s dedication to the expansion of humankind to all of God’s manifold worlds. Tanis had proved to be a veritable bunny. In the past fourteen years she had borne eight children. Six of them had been fathered by Jose del Campo. Mercedes had a feeling Tanis’s loyalty no longer aligned with the Arangos. The coif and wimple suited Tanis. There was a purity to the way they framed her face. At thirty-eight and after multiple pregnancies her body had thickened, but her face held a look of exultation and adoration as she gazed at the altar where Jose was conducting the consecration of the Host. Mercedes didn’t think that passion was focused on the Christ figure. As if sensing her scrutiny Tanis turned to look at Mercedes and her expression of exultation morphed into one that seemed perilously close to gloating. Tanis had always been one of those children who snooped and pried, ferreting out secrets about her sisters, servants, etc. She then hoarded them to use later as weapons. Apparently, she hadn’t outgrown the habit. Mercedes wondered what Tanis thought she knew? Or was it just enjoyment that she could measure her fecundity against Mercedes’ barrenness?

  Embarrassed by her wandering thoughts, Mercedes forced her attention back to the altar, the suffering bronze figure on the cross. The light through the stained glass of the rose window threw rainbow shards across the white marble, dappled the altar cloth and the robes of Jose and the young acolytes assisting him. The perfect acoustics of the soaring vaults in the ceiling caught every sonorous intonation as Latin rolled f
rom Jose’s lips. The piping responses from the young boys were a sweet counterpoint to his mellifluous baritone.

  After the consecration the family moved to the altar to receive communion. The del Campos seated directly behind them didn’t wait. Musa unlimbered his cane and pushed through the throng of Arangos. Arturo was at his father’s side, offering support. Musa was a few years older than Mercedes’ father, and a stroke had affected the left side of his body so he now moved with a lurching gait. Her father and Constanza were off world on vacation, which meant Mercedes should have taken precedence, but she worried that demanding her primacy over a crippled man would do little for her consequence or her reputation, so she allowed Musa and Arturo to go ahead. She enjoyed the momentary flash of pleasure at the thought that no matter how much his children might plot, it was unlikely Musa would live long enough to take the throne. She immediately felt contrite at having such an unworthy thought in God’s house. At the altar rail she dropped to her knees and gave a quick prayer for forgiveness. Jose with his attendant acolytes reached her and laid the Host on her tongue. It began to dissolve, as fleeting as this show of family unity that had her kneeling at Musa’s side.

  Communion continued, worshippers filing past the royal pew while security kept careful watch. Mercedes mentally ran through the reports Kemel had sent. There seemed to be numbers of false trails to the corsarios. She juggled personnel numbers, trying to weigh how many fusileros versus pilots. If the corsarios had a stronghold then marines would be the most use. But if they were using their ships as a flotilla and living like gypsies, then pilots and Infiernos would be the better choice. After exhausting analysis of the recording that had been sent, the bright boys at SEGU thought it was a planet-based location, but they weren’t one hundred percent certain.

  She glanced over at Boho. His eyes were open, but she knew he was actually dozing. Everyone who had made it to graduation from the High Ground soon learned how to sleep standing up and sleep when you looked awake. She envied him. She would love to have turned off her brain, but so much was riding on this mission. The lives of the men and few women in the hands of criminals. The lives of her own troops she would spend if the corsairs decided to fight. Her reputation if she failed.

  Jose ascended to the pulpit for his sermon. He arranged his tap-pad, looked across the congregation. He was easily the most handsome of the del Campo sons. Nearly fifty, he had perfectly frosted temples and just enough gray threaded through the dark hair to give him that silver fox look. He had also kept a trim figure. He raised his right hand, the large amethyst in his ring setting a beautiful counterpoint to his coffee-colored skin.

  “Before I begin today’s lesson I would like to take a moment to offer a prayer for the safe return of our men and, unfortunately, the eight women currently in the hands of criminals.”

  A reaction ran through the congregation for, of course, the information about the captured crews had been strictly interdicted. Now a prince of the church and a member of the royal family had exposed classified information and, Mercedes reflected, not a damn thing could be done about it. It got worse.

  “Heavenly Father, we pray that you stretch out your protective hand over the brave men who preserve our League and our fragile human presence among the stars. Protect the women who have fallen into the hands of barbarians. Guide their rescuers as they seek to free them from bondage, and may you grant to our noble consort the support to prevail in this urgent mission.”

  The murmurs from the crowd had brought Boho out of his doze. Mercedes watched emotions cascade across his face. Delight, bitter satisfaction, forced concern when he turned to look at her.

  “Oh, dear,” he said.

  Mercedes fought back the urge to slap him. Good manners dictated that she remain quiet and allow the palace press office to correct the record, but as someone had once said, A lie can travel halfway across the galaxy before the truth can get its boots on. She was tired. She was angry. She was nervous about the coming mission. She stood and stepped into the aisle.

  “Bishop del Campo, I fear someone has misled you. I will be leading the mission. And your prayers would be most welcome.” Since you just told the bastards that we’re coming, you son-of-a-bitch, and put in jeopardy the lives of our people.

  She nodded to him, turned, and walked toward the massive bronze doors. Her security detail fell in with her, and Rogers, walking at her side, muttered from the side of his mouth. “Well, that’s torn it.”

  “Get Kemel. I want to know who leaked this.”

  “And then?”

  “We deal with them.”

  “And what if it’s the consort?”

  “You are out of line, Captain.”

  “Apologies, Majesty.”

  How dare you voice what I fear?

  9

  SUGAR AND SHAME

  “That was foolish, Mercedes.” It was rare for Kemel to ever use her given name. He was scrupulous in observing the niceties. It indicated the level of his alarm. “The citizens won’t understand the significance of your little public spat, but the FFH reads it clearly. It is now even more imperative that you succeed.”

  The privacy shutters were down. Both rings were set to dampen any eavesdropping and Jaakon had enabled the office security measures as well. Mercedes sank down into one of the high-backed armchairs that faced her desk. Her stomach felt wobbly and a headache threatened.

  “Has Papa been told?”

  “Not by me, but you may be sure that the word has reached him… from both your supporters and—”

  “Do I have any?” she interrupted. The moment the words left her lips she regretted them. She hoped the old intelligence chief would take them as gallows humor. He didn’t.

  “No whining, Highness. Yes, though they are outnumbered by your detractors, but I would like to think that while they might have the numbers we hold the advantage in brains and cunning.” The barest smile touched his withered lips.

  “Putting aside my lack of control, how did he find out? Musa hasn’t gotten security briefings since I completed my first shipboard tour.”

  The security chief shrugged. “Obviously one of the parents talked.”

  “I don’t know how I could have made it any clearer. They had been told this in confidence. This was classified. I wonder which one it was?”

  “I could find out who, but I would advise against it. Being seen as going after a worried and grieving parent would be a terrible look for the crown. Solving the situation is a better solution.”

  “On that front… do you have anything for me?”

  “Nothing that I would call firm.”

  “I can’t just flit around the League with this massive strike force. We’ll look like a ponderous dinosaur bedeviled by gnats. And the gnats are winning.”

  “Sometimes a show of force can jar things loose.”

  The idea of being a jackboot didn’t particularly appeal. She jumped up. “Drink?”

  “Please. By the way, we’ve offered a staggering amount of money for any information. No takers.”

  “I presume that’s not all you’re doing,” she said as she crossed to the bar and poured them both a brandy.

  “By no means. We are combing through meta-data to see if we can locate the base using energy signatures, purchasing habits, et cetera.” She offered the glass. “Thank you.” He took a sip. “But it’s like looking for a needle among thousands of stars. Any person can stake a claim on an asteroid and try to eke out a living.”

  “And in some cases not bother to register the claim at all,” Mercedes said. “Just move onto some rock because they don’t like the League, want to get away from a nagging wife—”

  “Or are in general just a misanthrope,” Kemel said with a chuckle.

  “So, do I go or wait until you have something solid?” she asked.

  Kemel took another sip. “Go. You can react more quickly if you’re already in command of the force and on patrol.”

  Mercedes drank some of her brandy, taki
ng comfort in the warmth it brought. “Their demands are becoming very threatening. What if they actually follow through? Start killing hostages?”

  “They probably will. The only comfort is they are probably smart enough not to kill any of the women.”

  “There are other threats to a woman short of death that can be almost as devastating,” Mercedes said.

  “True that.” His mouth worked for a moment.

  “Go ahead, you can say it.”

  “Forgive me, Highness. I’m an old man. Change doesn’t come easy for us. I’m not… fond of the idea that my granddaughters will have to serve. It represents such a change in societal norms, and for an intelligence officer profound change is rarely a good thing.”

  “I understand.” She returned to the bar and refilled her glass, gestured at Kemel. He nodded. “Selfishly I embraced the idea when Rohan proposed it all those years ago. I needed other women around me as a buffer.” She walked back to him and tipped more brandy into his glass. “So I wasn’t a unicorn.” The old man looked confused. “Meaning one of a kind. If I was the only woman in the service then my father’s opponents could rightly say that I wasn’t really qualified.”

  “There are very few noble ladies,” Kemel said. “Mostly intitulados serve.”

  “Which actually helps me because like hombres they really are doing the hard tasks, the scut work. If they can hold their own in those jobs then it’s harder to say women aren’t qualified and competent.”

  “Yes, and they can also die just like a man and that will not go over well.” He drained the last of his brandy and stood. “Is there anything you wish me to do while you are off world?”

  “Yes.” She took a breath. Made herself say it. “Keep an eye on Boho.”

  10

  THE TASTE OF SHAME

  Tracy shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position in the taxi. He felt like a prisoner inside his own skin: Kronos was a large world, so Tracy felt like he was carrying an additional forty pounds. He supposed the residents got used to the extra weight but it made him feel lethargic. The saliva packets had also begun to chafe the inside of his cheeks. He was glad this was the last major world they would be visiting for an extended period of time.