by Neal Jones
Erengaar sat back, and his expression softened once more. "I wish you all peace and a quiet night. Thank you for listening. Evening star."
The screen went black for a few moments, and then the customary news feed appeared.
"King, my ass!" bellowed one of the bystanders near Em'rik. "He's no father to me! Here's what I think of his lofty promises!" He flashed a closed fist with only the pinky finger extended at the wall screen, and his friends laughed before moving on.
There were similar comments from the others in the crowd who had paused to watch the broadcast, but Em'rik ignored them as he continued on his way. The meat was getting cold, and Alenza would start wondering what was keeping him.
Only in recent decades had the Resaki districts officially been separated from the rest of the city by portable electronic fences and guard posts established at all major street intersections. This created only one or two entrances and exits to the districts, and the local governments had claimed that this was for the protection of the citizens within the districts. This was only partially correct, depending on whom was asked. Those living in the districts had no illusions about what was really happening. They were being segregated from the wealthier populations who didn't want to be reminded of the rapidly growing chasm of the class divide that now permeated all strata of Jha'Drok society.
The local governors had cited a different reason for the walls and guard stations around the districts: the alarming level of crime that was occurring inside the districts. In the last few years, more and more burglaries, grand theft, assault, rape, and even murder were being reported to the local police who had been tasked with keeping law and order inside the districts. The current economic recession under which the whole Emperium was suffering had not been caused by the destruction of the assault fleets the previous year, but that had made an already bad situation far worse, and now, in the wake of a global unemployment rate that had steadily risen each year for the last decade, many in the 'Saki districts were turning to theft in order to put food on the table for their families, while others squandered what little money they had in the bars and brothels, drowning their desperation and sorrow in cheap ale and even cheaper physical pleasures. As a consequence, drug lords and brothel masters had found a lucrative business opportunity in the districts, and the local police more or less looked the other way unless the gang warfare and violence got especially out of hand.
As Em'rik approached the entrance to the district, he glanced at the police on either side of the gate, nodding a quick, silent greeting and slowing his pace just a bit so as not to appear in too much of a hurry. He – like the hundreds of others trapped in the districts – had learned quickly how to avoid suspicion by adjusting his appearance and body language to just the right balance. He passed through the checkpoint unmolested and continued on his way, quickening his pace as he went.
Most of the buildings in the district were high-rise thermobrick towers with cramped apartments of only two or three rooms each. The elevator in the lobby of Em'rik's building had been out of order for quite some time, and none of the residents expected it to be fixed anytime soon. That was the way of things in the district. Em'rik took the stairs two at a time, eager to see Alenza and be within the safety of his apartment.
"Lenz, I'm home!" he called out as he thumbed the lock on the com panel once the door had sealed itself behind him.
She appeared from the kitchen, radiant even in her plain housedress, sweaty face, and rumpled hair. The heating and cooling units for each apartment didn't always work, and it was the latter this time around that was broken. Em'rik had put in a work order weeks ago, but wasn't surprised that the building's maintenance master hadn't responded.
Em'rik embraced his wife, and they shared a kiss before she took notice of the package under his arm.
"What smells so good?"
"Surprise!" He unwrapped one flap and held it out to her so she could see what was inside.
"Em'rik! Is that..."
He nodded.
Alenza gave a squeal of delight and took the package carefully with both hands as if it was fine crystal instead of roast crild. She inhaled deep as she walked back to the kitchen. "It smells wonderful!" But then she stopped and gave her husband a reproachful look. "How much did you pay for this?"
"Don't worry," he smiled. "I still have ten gusitt left on the card."
She scraped the meat off the stick into the pot of broth on the stove. "How was work?"
Em'rik removed his coat and tossed it onto the sofa in the other room. "Same as always."
"Any more terminations?"
"Not that I know of. Don't think there will be, either. Not for a few more months, at least. My team was barely able to finish our workload today, but it sounds like I'll be really late tomorrow. Don't know how they expect us to still do the same quota with half the workers terminated."
Alenza handed him a bowl of soup and then ladled one for herself. They sat at the small table in the corner of the tiny kitchen and ate in comfortable silence. There was never much to say. Life in the Resaki districts never changed much from one day to the next.
"Oh," Em'rik said suddenly, "the lord emperor gave a speech tonight. Saw it on one of the public screens on the way home."
"I heard about it. What was so special about this announcement?"
"He's touring the districts on homeworld starting tomorrow. Seems he's going to be like Extonay and hand out money to us poor folk, as if that will solve all our problems."
Alenza laid a hand on her husband's arm. "At least it's something," she said quietly.
Em'rik gave her a wan smile. "Always my optimist, you are."
"How much is everybody getting?"
Em'rik shrugged, sipping his soup. "The father didn't say." He spooned up a chunk of meat. "I'll believe it when I actually see the numbers on the ration card go up." He wiped his chin with his sleeve, and then walked to the stove to refill his bowl. "I'm going out for a bit later on. I won't be too late."
"With Nisik?"
"Of course."
Alenza sighed. "Promise me you won't spend too much."
"I'm not spending anything. It's his turn to treat."
"Then promise me you won't drink too much."
He smiled and kissed her. "Don't I always?"
( 2 )
The tavern was full by the time Em'rik arrived, and most of the patrons were husbands and fathers enjoying the half price ales that were offered for celebration hour. A trio of female waitresses were threading their way through the noisy tables to serve drinks and flirt with the drunken men for extra tips. Em'rik quickly caught sight of Nisik at a table in the back.
"I already ordered for you," Nisik said, motioning to an unopened bottle. "You're late."
"I had to spend some time with Lenz. She's starting to get suspicious."
"You haven't told her anything, have you?"
"No. She thinks you and I are just having a few drinks."
Nisik nodded, taking a long draught from his bottle. "Don't worry. After tonight, we probably won't need to meet again for a couple weeks."
"Is he going to be here tonight?"
Nisik nodded again, motioning to the waitress to bring him another bottle. For the next few minutes, the two men made small talk, and then Nisik led his friend to the back of the tavern and down a flight of stairs to a private room in the basement. There was a rusty table and a few chairs in the center of the dingy room, and in the far corner was a stack of empty crates.
Nisik motioned for him to sit. "Relax. This is a good thing."
"He asked for me specifically?"
"Yeah. I told him about you, and he liked what he heard."
"What exactly am I signing up for?"
Nisik shrugged. "I didn't ask. Guess we're about to find out?" He looked at Em'rik. "Don't worry. It's not a suicide mission or another bombing. I think he's got something else in mind."
There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and the two men turned, th
eir chairs scraping against the cement floor as they stood. Galoret Ain stepped into the room, followed closely by three other men who possessed the size and surly expressions of bodyguards.
"Hello," Ain said, holding out his arm. "You must be Em'rik."
Em'rik grasped Ain's forearm in the customary greeting, and nodded. "Yes."
Galoret smiled and motioned for everyone to sit. He pulled up a chair at the head of the table, and Em'rik took the one to his left. "Nisik has told me a lot about you. Used to be a cook on a spice freighter, is that right?"
"Y-yes." Em'rik cleared his throat. "That's right."
"Are you a good cook? Can you work in a kitchen?"
"Yes."
"Excellent. There's an opening in Governor Talferd's kitchen staff. Pays three times what you're making now. You interested?"
"Governor Talferd?" Em'rik gasped. He glanced at Nisik, and then back at Ain. "Here in Garbane?"
Galoret laughed. "Yes. It's your lucky day, my friend. How old are you again?"
"Twenty-two."
Ain nodded. "You look young enough to be eighteen, maybe nineteen at the most. Very good."
"Uh, thanks."
"How soon can you start?"
"A couple of days, I guess."
"Good." Galoret slid a datachip across the table. "This has the details of your new address and where to report for work. The man you're reporting to is Daijar, chief master of the kitchens. He's an old friend of mine."
"Thank you!" Em'rik replied, feeling a bit giddy and overwhelmed. He cleared his throat again and calmed himself with a long draught of ale.
Galoret laughed and stood. "It was nice meeting you, Em'rik." He nodded to Nisik, and then disappeared back up the stairs with his three thugs close behind.
Em'rik collapsed back into his chair and stared at the datachip. He looked up at Nisik. "The governor?"
Nisik chuckled and nodded. "Like he said, it's your lucky day. Come on. I'll buy you another round."
Much later, after several rounds, and after slipping into bed next to his wife, Em'rik woke her with a kiss, and then told her the good news. He left out Ain's name, saying only that it was a friend of a friend of Nisik's.
"You only served as a cook on that freighter for a few months," Alenza protested. "And even then you told me it was just as an errand boy. You never did any actual cooking."
"It doesn't matter," he replied, nuzzling her bare neck. "I'm young. I can learn all kinds of new skills. I'll probably start out as nothing more than a washboy anyway, but I'll be making three times as much as I am now! Three times!"
He nipped at her bare breasts, and she giggled. They made love, and then lay awake for the rest of the night – talking, planning, dreaming.
"I told you," Em'rik whispered, kissing Alenza once more. "I told you our fortune would change one day, we just had to wait for the right opportunity to come along."
( 3 )
The primary shuttleport on the Ralorian colony of Anjisald was swirling with throngs of passengers that were either on their way to board or were disembarking. The automated voice of the port's central computer was declaring the names and numbers of imminent shuttle departures in a pleasant, non-gender tone that was nearly drowned out by the commotion of the crowds that echoed in the vast dome. After retrieving her luggage, Brantar Varis threaded her way to the train depot on the far side of the terminal.
After finding her seat, Varis activated her commlink so she could send a quick message to Anteri Prill, letting him know of her arrival. She then activated her bio-net and linked it to the city's network so she could download a map as well as directions to her hotel. She had already booked a room using one of the five aliases she had established several years earlier as part of her fieldwork operations for FCI, though this was the first occasion that she'd been forced to use a false identity. She quelled the nervousness in her stomach by settling back and staring out the window at the passing cityscape below.
J'Soran had been born and raised on the Ralorian homeworld, and only after enlisting in the armed forces had she left it. Her combat training had been at the war college on Najjim, the only other colony in the Ralor system, and, from what she was seeing on the other side of the glass now, Anjisald's capital city didn't appear that different from any other city on homeworld or Najjim. There was the usual number of skyscrapers, industrial districts, residential towers and commerce plazas all piled atop one another in one seemingly giant mass of chrome, glass and steel. It seemed to Varis that this was the way it was with most major worlds of the Interstellar Federation. As often as she had been relocated in her various assignments in the last twenty years, she sometimes found it difficult to tell which planet she was on – or which city she was in – just by looking at the architecture around her.
J'Soran consulted the holo-readout in her right palm to see how far the Bri'Nai Institute was from the central police tower, and then to see where Doctor Moru's house was in relation to the institute. All three were in the southwestern district, and she glanced up at the wall screen at the front of the shuttle car to see how far she had until the next stop.
Her stomach rumbled as she disembarked the platform two blocks from the police tower. One glance told her there were several restaurants and sidewalk cafés at every street corner, and she decided to see if Prill was available for a late lunch.
She almost didn't recognize him when he arrived at her table. "Hi," she said, experiencing a moment of unexpected awkwardness as she stood to shake his hand.
"Hello," he smiled. "You look nervous."
She shook her head. "I forgot that it's been almost twenty years. You look...different."
"So do you. You're not as scrawny as I remember."
J'Soran laughed. "I knew that's what you were going to say. Covert tactical ops training does have the side effect of building muscle."
"So that's what you did after graduation?"
J'Soran nodded, sipping her tea.
Vasik used the compad in the corner of the table to put in his order. "So tell me again what it is you do on Exxar-One?"
"I'm the strategic operations officer. How did you go from studying weapons tech in combat training to an anteri in the civilian sector investigating missing persons?"
Vasik shrugged, playing idly with his fork. "I got married. My wife got tired of trucking around from base to base. We ended up here, and..." He raised his hands as if to say, The rest is history.
"So you're married now?"
"Was. Divorced six years ago. I have a son." He reached into his pocket for his personal compad and activated its holo-display. A laughing, freckle-faced boy waved at Varis.
"He looks just like you."
"Thanks. His name is Kasen. He'll be twelve next month. What about you?"
"I'll be forty-two, thanks for asking."
He laughed. "No, I mean marriage."
"Never found the time – or the need. My career is more than enough to make me happy."
Vasik nodded. "That seems about right." He took a datachip from his pocket and slid it across the table. "This is Moru's case file. Like I said, there's not much there."
"Thanks. I also need a class two subpoena for his records from Lykenshy University. They seem to be the only ones who are stubborn about releasing Moru's past employment files."
Prill frowned. "Okay. Anything else?"
"No. That's it for now."
The waitress arrived with their orders, and Varis focused on her sandwich for the next few minutes, deliberately avoiding Prill's gaze as well as deflecting his attempts at small talk. This didn't surprise him since Varis had never been one to reveal much about herself or engage in idle conversation. That was the way she'd been when they'd first met in basic combat training twenty-two years ago, and not much about her had changed in the meantime.
When they were finished, and after the waitress cleared away the dishes, Vasik remarked, "I cleared some time on my calendar to assist you with this."
She rose, shak
ing her head. "Thanks for the offer, but I'll be fine on my own. Lunch is on me." She swiped her palm over the compad, and then reached for her suitcase. "I'll screen you if I need anything more."
"Uh-huh." Vasik watched her leave the café, and then murmured, "Nice to see you again too."
( 3 )
Larewyn Valayne moved the electronic "brush" up and down in nice, even strokes. The pigment of the wall changed as the brush's beam moved over it, and, after a couple minutes, the lady empress stood back to gauge her progress. She smiled, satisfied, and re-activated the brush's beam. Just as she reached up to begin another stroke, her mother's voice interrupted the peaceful silence of the nursery.
"Larewyn!"
"Yes, mother?"
"Oh, don't sigh at me like that! I thought you said you were going to rest more."
"I did." The lady empress set aside the brush and moved to the armchair. "I've been in bed all morning."
"Why don't you let the servants do this?" Marija pointed to the wall. "Oh, you're right. That is a lovely shade for this room."
"Because I'm not like you, mother. There's some things I like to do for myself. And thanks, I'm glad you agree." She glanced at the other side of the room where a pair of maidservants were waiting in the doorway. The taller one she recognized, but the other girl was unfamiliar to her. "I'd like a cup of dabe, please. Chilled."
The taller one left to fulfill the order, and Marija motioned for the other girl to come forward. "Larewyn, this is K'Sana. She's a seamstress, highly recommended by the Lady Ggytha. Yes, I know, she's the one you think is such a snob, but you have to admit that her taste in fashion is impeccable."
Larewyn nodded, giving the maid an appraising look. "Come here," she invited. "How old are you?"
"Thirteen, m'lady."
"Still a child, then?"
"Yes, m'lady."
Marija disappeared into the hall where two men were waiting with a large trunk. She had them bring it into the nursery, and then dismissed them with an absent wave. "I have some of her latest pieces. Go ahead and show her. Don't be shy."
The girl nodded and then opened the trunk. She withdrew an evening gown of shimmering jade and crimson, with a jeweled neckline and pleated sleeves. She held up the dress for the lady empress, and Larewyn's eyes widened.
