Copyright © 2017 by Fabia Scali-Warner
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
eBook ISBN 978-1-48359-506-1
www.viralstorytelling.com
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XVI
Acknowledgements
About the Author
To the hypocrisy of petty bureaucrats, corrupt justice,
and superficial judges that have allowed me
to distill the hate I need
to write what I write;
…but also to all the people I love,
that in reading me complete my redemption.
I
The clouds were rolling, distant and undisturbed, and a veiled sky reflected in her gaze, metallic and gray as a stormy sea. Moisture stagnated in the air, drawn by a wind that seemingly cut off all chances of rain.
Julia’s eyes followed the grayness of the sky and its blinding glare on the marble columns of the Ministry, worn and polished by time. The building was very old, surely older than the First Cataclysm. After all, Cleo often observed that the European shield had revealed itself one of the strongest.
She tensed the muscles of her back, trying to remove the uniform clinging to her shoulder blades, sticky with sweat. It had been a calm day, without duels, but the heat and the low gray sky were overwhelming.
“Nice welcome our capital is giving the Emperor” she whispered to herself.
The Capital and the Itinerant Court were transferring that very day to Province I, Julia’s province. That was one of the reasons why the day had been so calm. Most of the soldiers and generals usually buzzing around the Ministry, seeking more weapons and resources for their regiments, were now attending the solemn parade in front of the Emperor of the Earth, who was returning from a long institutional trip in distant galaxies.
The identification badge woven in the right sleeve of the uniform’s suit shivered slightly, distracting Julia from her thoughts and reporting the end of her shift. Many employees had been granted a two-hour leave, to allow them to attend the ending of the welcoming parade and the official entry of the Emperor in the Palace.
She returned to the main body of the Ministry to recover her dinner, her salary; two liters of purified H2O, a white pill for sugars, a red one for protein, and a green capsule for vitamins. A full meal. The water was good, courtesy of the Cornell family: the best synthesized water of the Empire, if you listened to the gossip of the soldiers.
Julia moved with methodical gestures: she carefully placed the pills in a small transparent box, inserting it in one of the diagonal pockets of her coat, just below her breast, and quickly closing the silvery zipper. She then drank a sip from the bottle of water, placing it on the tripod that furnished her small compartment in the Ministry and immediately screwing the cap back on with care; then she fastened the scabbard of her service sword in a resting position (from her side to her shoulders), finally picking up the bottle and leaving her small room, covering the stairs and corridors of the Ministry with long, quick strides. Her pace gave away a restlessness and an agitation that were perhaps due to an unusual surplus of energies - for the first time in two years she was ending her shift after less than twelve hours of work.
She walked without rushing along the pedestrian scaffoldings of the City, always heading uphill. There was little traffic, and she actually found herself going against the tide, since many people were climbing down to watch the parade in the Maximum Square. As for her, she was counting on a view from above.
The last escalator ran close to the tall walls of the villas of the nobility, for once probably empty: the Chemical Aristocracy of the City stood at the right of the Emperor in his triumph. The science of the noble families fed and sheltered the citizens of the Empire, and the Empire recognized and honored this power.
From the highest scaffolding Julia finally turned her back to the villas, despite the fascination she felt for them, to look down on the City, dominated in the distance by the dome of the Palace and brushed in that moment by the last rays of a crimson sunset. The distant flags of the parade seemed to absorb the color, engulfed in the dusty atmosphere of the day’s end. She could not distinguish clearly the crest of the Imperial Black Moon, but it was there, as it was everywhere.
It lasted a couple of minutes, then evening crept in. The lights of the buildings turned on in unison, while in the square the procession towards the Palace began with a sparkle of torches. Deciding she had seen enough, Julia took the flight of escalators towards her condominium.
She lived in a fairly central residential district. Two years had passed since the fire that had killed her parents. She had been allowed to continue living with Cleo in their parents’ house, since Julia had been quick to adapt to her new duties, a quality that had parachuted her in a good job in the Ministry of Counter-Terrorism. She was required to have the organizational skills necessary to manage the distribution of weapons to the different regiments of the Army, the diplomacy to deal with the generals, and the skill with the sword needed to solve controversy by dueling.
The Empire deemed that non-lethal duels to first blood were the most efficient way of solving issues between citizens - annoying to the right point, to put off an overflow of contentiousness, yet not dangerous enough to weaken the government. Furthermore, they settled things quickly. Julia was grateful that Ministry welfare included in her contract all medical expenses, wounds with internal regeneration included.
She didn’t take long to reach her condominium. It was a building made of dark concrete, no different from the others in the area, well connected to the escalators that led to the city center. She looked up - the outer window on the thirteenth floor was lit, so Cleo had already returned.
The entrance door opened automatically in recognizing Julia’s badge as she passed by, and she could hear the metallic noise of the elevator descending from the upper levels of the building. As she heard its arrival, Julia distractedly opened the old door, her gaze distant, trained on far-away memories. Two female figures suddenly found themselves staring at each other, as if ambushed by some common dark fear.
An old lady was staring at Julia with wide eyes, as if she had seen the image of the Grim Reaper in that pale girl with black hair and a sword. At the same time Julia met that gaze - rare with its old age - with a shiver of fear, as if Death were manifesting itself to her with gray hair curled in old rollers and dusty slippers of pink sponge.
It was only a moment - then whispering apologetic words both women moved on in their opposite directions.
Cleo was curled up on a sofa in front of the door. This opened with a rustle, letting Julia in. She rose to greet her sister with a quick hug and a kiss on her cheek, welcoming her with a smile. Even though she was blonde, while Julia had dark hair, Cleo’s looks immediately revealed her kinship with her sister, as they shared the same profile and eyes, even if Julia’s were stormy and gray and Cleo’s deep and green like the Forest surrounding the city.
Julia answered her sister’s welcome with a smile.
“Not at the parade, I see.”
Cleo shook her head, and her curls.
“No, but I did get to visit the Palace with the class today, to study its design.”
Julia’s good work at the Ministry had granted a renovation of Cleo’s Education Permit, and Cleo was happy when she talked of her studies, displaying rare enthusiasm.
Cleo continued her tale, anticipating the questions to come.
“The Palace is… incredible. We’re used to seeing the Dome from a distance, but inside… it looks like the entrance to another world. There are statues of children with wings, and paintings of glowing men, and columns, and polished stone… The throne of the Emperor is right in the middle of a golden structure of spiraling columns…”
Julia listened to her attentively, in silence, trying to keep the fire in her sister’s eyes alive.
“I wonder what all those images meant, at the time” Cleo continued, while her gaze clouded.
“A really significant part of our knowledge was lost with the Cataclysm” she sighed.
“We did leave a lot of negative stuff behind, though” Julia answered.
“Consider that women had no birth control implant, bled once a month, and grew children in their bellies.”
A slight shiver betrayed the disgust she felt for this condition.
“It’s actually possible that some were socially discriminated because of their biology, at least this is what I remember from my history books.”
“True” Cleo nodded.
“But did you know that some aristocratic women today decide not to grow their children in the artificial uterus, and follow a so-called natural pregnancy?”
Julia theatrically arched her eyebrows at this new eccentricity. As a high-level student Cleo had more dealings with the aristocracy than she did, and would sometimes tell the tales of their habits.
“I suppose they are allowed to slacken their work performance, or have nothing better to do.”
“Or they have the feeling that something was lost with the control implant, after all” Cleo added thoughtfully.
Night had completely fallen; the murmur of the escalators quivered into a sharp snap, then went off. The city was shutting down for the hours of rest.
“Counter-Terrorist Julia Mayne, report for duty.”
A tired voice penetrates through the videophone, interrupts the night, sleep and regularity of life, final like the rustle of signed and stamped papers.
“Counter-Terrorist Julia Mayne, rep…”
No irritation, only fatigue in the voice interrupted by the panting answer of a disheveled girl, blandly dressed in a tank top, addressing a quick and courteous salute to the screen.
“I’m here, Supervisor. Forgive my delay.”
On the other side of the monitor the Supervisor shrugged off the girl’s excuses with a quick gesture of her hand, gloved in Ministerial red.
“No matter. I sent a Spider to pick you up. You have 4 minutes and 30 seconds.”
Julia answered with a mechanic salute, while Supervisor Yrenes shut the communication, leaving the screen shiny, silvery, and empty.
“Julia, what’s happening?”
Cleo was staring at her sister with wide eyes, sitting on the bed with her knees at her breast and a thin sheet pulled up to her chin, hiding half of her face. Julia was pulling up the trousers of her uniform and answered from the bathroom, where she had gone for a quick wash.
“I don’t know.”
Her tone was dark. The bright clock indicated the time was 03.22 a.m., which left her about two minutes’ time before the arrival of the Spider. An uncommon event like a night call combined with the arrival of the Emperor’s Itinerant Court was hard to consider a coincidence.
She closed the uniform’s blazer, acknowledging the familiar vibration coming from the identification badge as it activated with the DNA of her skin. She picked up the sword from the foot of the bed, slung it over her shoulder and headed without a word to the door.
“Julia!”
Cleo’s voice was frightened, like her eyes.
“Be careful.”
Julia traced back her steps, lost 20 seconds to give her sister a kiss and a nervous smile.
“I will.”
And she went out in the night.
Stars covered by clouds, and light years away, anyway. The stopwatch showed 23 seconds to impact, the arrival of the Spider - and indeed she saw him, a distant movement in the maze of scaffoldings and stairs, a dart just barely reflected in metal, a darker shade in the opaque night.
The figure got closer and closer, following impossible trajectories, and finally landed on its feet a few meters away from Julia.
“I’m the Imperial Messenger n.9.”
Julia stepped forward, giving a closer look at the sharp features of a man of indefinite age, slender yet powerful in build; shiny black ropes ran from a central gear looking like a double backpack placed on his back and on his sternum.
She addressed him with a respectful nod of her head.
“Level II Counter-Terrorist Mayne.”
The Spider nodded.
“Have you ever traveled with an Imperial Messenger?”
Julia shook her head, perhaps showing some of her anxiety.
“No problem. Hold on to me.”
The man said nothing else, and started attaching snap-hooks to Julia’s uniform, assuring her to his equipment. She found herself almost perfectly stuck with her torso to the bundle of ropes on the Spider’s chest, arms and legs suddenly helpless when the Messenger threw the first rope that took them dangling several meters in the air, hanging from the railing of Escalator 102.
“You may place your hands on my shoulders, if you wish.”
Then the trip began, with the wind of their bold trajectories in her hair and the clouds glimpsed under her feet, with trembling hands and a suddenly conspicuous heartbeat, accelerated by the hallucinated and dream-vivid sensation of never experimented or imagined speed. The Spider balanced weights, calculated arches and falls with extraordinary grace, softened jolts and jerks with the elastic fibers of the right cables, and allowed different perspectives of the city.
Something deeper than Julia’s nerves had been shaken, when after a few minutes they touched the ground next to the imposing marble bulk of the Ministry. She thanked the Spider with inexplicably moist eyes.
He answered with a vague smile and a respectful salute that was in no way due to a lower ranking officer such as Julia – then disappeared in the rooftops leaving behind only the faint echo of his undecipherable voice.
“Farewell, Counter-Terrorist Mayne. They’re waiting for you.”
The squeak of her faux leather boots echoed in the silence of the hallowed marble corridors. The slightly unreal light of the emergency generators followed Julia on her route, lighting up and turning off after her passage. Long, worried steps took her to the office of the Supervisor that had summoned her - a blondish, olive-skinned woman who was looking slightly haggard in the red clothing typical of Imperial functionaries. Her darkened eyelids and ringed eyes told the tale of an abrupt wake-up call. She was waiting, sitting behind an antique wooden desk, her arms tight on her lap, fingers crossed on her belly.
“Supervisor Yrenes.”
Julia limited herself to saluting from the doorstep.
“Come in, and sit down.”
The girl obeyed.
“Less than an hour ago Province P has declared war on the Empire.”
“What? But it’s madness!”
“They want to break off and organize an independent political entity.”
Julia’s face, albeit controlled, betrayed from the expression of her eyes the very quick passage from perplexity to astonishment, from astonishment to concern, and from concern to fear.
“And how does this war involve us?”
Yrenes ignored the question.
“Province P has already appointed a delegate to solve this problem with a duel to the death, as dictated by tradition. One
of their fencing champions, a professional athlete - they feel quite confident of their victory.”
“Is the Empire really going to allow Province P to break off, should they win?”
The pause in the rhythm of the conversation was barely detectable, despite the stillness of the functionary’s gaze - what was the Supervisor feeling? Fatigue? Disdain for such a naïve question?
“Of course not. Should we lose, the Imperial Army will occupy the region.”
“What role do we have in this matter?”
This time Yrenes decided to answer.
“We are hosting the Itinerant Court. This war concerns us directly, and it is up to Province I to fight it.”
“But it’s crazy! Province P should know we too are a colony…”
“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”
Julia breathed out, finding herself standing without having realized she had jumped up from the chair. A ripple on her jaw indicated she was clenching her teeth, but she lowered her eyes to hide her irritation and all-too-obvious feelings.
Yrenes’ voice continued, calmer, colder.
“Furthermore, fighting this war could bring interesting advantages to our province.”
Julia didn’t answer, staring at her hands, now clenched on the precious desk.
“You are going to face the champion of Province P in the duel. You have 40 hours to prepare yourself.”
“What?”
Julia abruptly raised her head, finding herself staring from above in the impassive gaze of the Supervisor.
“You heard me. You will face their champion in a duel, as the representative of the Empire and of our province.”
“… but why not some military? I don’t have the training, if he’s a professional fencer he will just massacre me…”
Julia Dream Page 1
