Bitter Angels

by C. L. Anderson

  “No, I don’t think I do.” What are you really here for, Commander Drajeske? Are you and your gun and your coordinator here to take Erasmus apart?

  The thought sent a jolt through me. Did the Family suspect? They must. If the thought had crossed my mind, it had certainly crossed theirs.

  And they had given her over to my keeping, probably quite secure in the knowledge that if they decided she needed to die, I would do the job. I didn’t like saints, and I had never refused an order, no matter how distasteful, because my father lived in my back room, and I didn’t know where my mother was except that she was still in their hands.

  Did Terese Drajeske suspect me of being a potential assassin? She couldn’t possibly. She was a free person. No person who had a choice would walk into such a threat.

  Would they?

  I shot to my feet too fast and nearly overbalanced. Terese reached out to steady me, and I snatched my arm away. She folded her hand and lowered it. I was staring at her again, half in horror, half in confusion.

  “It’s all right, Captain,” she said softly. “I understand.”

  “Excuse me.” I bowed and strode out of the cabin, cranking the door shut behind me hard enough to slam. I pressed my fist hard against the wall and my forehead against my fist.

  You don’t understand. You can’t understand because I don’t understand. Something’s happening, and I don’t know what it is.

  I straightened up. The cameras, the Clerks, the Blood Family had already seen far too much. I couldn’t undo it, but I could limit further damage. With the discipline of a lifetime, I made my face blank and still.

  As I moved toward the cockpit ladder, I touched my hand to Emiliya’s sealed bunk, my sealed bunk.

  I’m sorry, too.

  ELEVEN

  TERESE

  Power looks startlingly similar wherever you go. Power does not want you to forget for a minute that you are small and alone. The palaces of Moonthree are meant to impress, amuse, and inspire continued excess. The Great Hall, the official reception point for government representatives and other dignitaries, is built to inspire awe.

  If I had thought the precautions taken by the Flight Control for entry into the Erasmus system were a trifle…overdone, they were nothing compared to the precautions around Fortress. I tried to calculate how much fuel Captain Jireu burned to negotiate the maze of satellites and patrol ships and gave up. We, of course, were not privy to cockpit chatter in our threadbare passenger cabin. I had a feeling Siri could get to it if she wanted, but there was no point.

  “He might not even be flying,” she pointed out. “They might be doing it by remote.”

  I raised my eyebrows to her. “Are we that scary?”

  Siri chuckled and I looked away before she could see me wince. I hated not being able to speak to her directly, but we were being watched. Whatever she was up to, if she was up to anything at all, I had to let it go for now.

  Even the spaceport on Fortress was a tribute to the resources lavished on that world. The ice skin on which the hangars and landing fields floated had to be kept smooth and steady. Huge sealed Zambonis were constantly at work, maintaining the shining ice sheet. The port was filled with workers. There were no cleaning drones here—everything was done by hand or with mechanical assistance. I counted half a dozen different kinds of work uniforms, and that did not include the uniforms of the soldiers who stood watch beside every door, their guns at rest in their hands.

  I wondered briefly if this display had been arranged for our benefit. Not even Bianca had managed to record anything inside Fortress. From the way Siri was blinking and rubbing at her temples, I had the distinct feeling she was suffering equipment trouble.

  The second elevator shaft was glassy, and let us see the mottled white-and-silver ice as we were plunged through it into the deep turquoise of the living water. The Hall itself was high enough up that the sunlight penetrated the ice, but far enough down that its ocean waters protected us from the gas giant’s overenthusiastic particle discharge. When we emerged into the corridor, a Clerk bowed to us and took our palm prints, including Captain Jireu’s. Once we had all been verified, he bowed again and took point in front of us, leading us deep into the palace, past the soldiers, past the servants, who did not lift their eyes to watch us. Captain Jireu walked beside us, but Dr. Varus did not. One of the Clerks had led her away. I noticed how Captain Jireu tracked her until she was led out of sight around one of the steeply curving corridors.

  Uniformed servants stood by each door to open it before us and close it behind us. They lined the walls, making a stiff and silent audience for our passage, turning the act of walking down a hallway into a parade.

  Captives, every single one of them, held hostage to the good behavior of their families on the other moons. That fact weighed heavier on my mind with each step. I wondered if Dr. Varus had family here, and if that was where she disappeared to. I hoped that was it. She had bioscanned me and Siri, had been all but invisible on the flight across, and now had been taken away. It was not a sequence of events that made me feel comfortable.

  It took a team of six men to pull open the huge gilded doors to the Great Hall. Three-quarters of the circular chamber had a wall of clear arched glass edged with something that shone like frosted silver. As a concession to the human need for edges and boundaries, the floor was solid: a gleaming surface much like marble but in swirling blues and greens. It had been inlaid with a pattern of sweeping tree branches and names so elaborately scripted they’d become decorations rather than text. A rail that might actually be wood ringed the room, cut and bent into fantastic abstract waves and curls and polished to a high shine. Transparent pillars filled with bubbling water extended from floor to ceiling, where proud and benevolent faces I took to be gods were painted to look down on us.

  The materials engineers must have had a field day. I was sure the view into this place was nowhere as clear as the view out of it, but I couldn’t catch how the trick might be accomplished.

  It was the only place we had been so far that was empty of servants. As the doors clanged shut behind us, Siri and I were left alone with Captain Jireu. It was a nice trick, very effectively disconcerting, especially when you were being reminded everywhere you looked that you are alone in a bubble of air beneath the ocean.

  But what struck me most in that first glimpse was the life.

  Outside in a world of indigos and greys, there swayed a forest of broad-leafed, ruby-red kelp, its edges glowing gold. A tangle of blaze orange drifted past, bumped against the glass, shuddered and re-formed into a sail that shot away into the forest. Silver fish turned their glowing faces hopefully up toward the white ice. A rain of white stars drifted down and the fish burst into motion, snapping them up. A jet-black eel at least three meters long undulated slowly toward the seaweed, ignoring the rippling, color-shifting mounds that floated along underneath it.

  I splayed my hand against the cool window and stared. I couldn’t help it. I had seen alien life before, but not much of it. Siri stood beside me, not blinking, just taking in all the silent wonder. Amerand stared too, but his was a hungry stare. He didn’t see the fantastic life that swam and hunted, bloomed and played out there. He saw the water, which was life and wealth and freedom, and power. Power above all. All that water, the only natural water source in the Erasmus System, was the way the Blood Family kept control.

  I found myself wondering what he would make of the home I’d had in the middle of Lake Superior, or the one in the living darkness of the Mariana Trench. I didn’t know what to make of him. He was so used to being watched that he wore a permanent armor over his thoughts, and yet he was still a very young man, not even through his third decade, and as thick as that armor was, I could still catch a glimpse of the struggling human heart underneath.

  When he noticed me staring at the ocean—and at him—the hunger vanished behind a kind of bleak amusement for the tourist. His expression sobered me and reminded me where I was. I pulled back
my hand and collected my wits.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” said a man’s voice behind us, and I turned to greet the ambassador of the Pax Solaris to the Erasmus System.

  I hadn’t seen His Excellency, Ambassador Philippe Diego y Bern, for four decades. He was still a solidly built man, although his chest and slight belly now formed a single gentle curve out in front of him that was going to soon turn into a paunch if he wasn’t careful.

  “Field Commander Drajeske.” He held out both hands as he crossed to me, the soles of his heeled boots ringing on the marble-patterned floor. Gold buttons made a sparkling line down the front of his knee-length coat and his straight grey trousers were trimmed in silver braid. The scarlet, blue, and gold of his sash made a swath of color diagonally across his chest. “It is good to see you again.”

  “Good to see you too, Ambassador.” I clasped his hands. Ambassador Bern had been Assistant Secretary Bern when we’d worked together during the Redeemer crisis. He was cool, strong, and utterly determined. His facility for diplomacy was all that kept those he worked with and against from applying the term “ruthless” to him. At that moment I saw sorrow and regret written across his face. I squeezed his hands, trying to tell him that, whatever had happened, I knew he had done his best. We would talk later, but I already had the feeling whatever he would tell me was not good news.

  “Field Coordinator Baijahn.” Bern turned to Siri and took her hands as well. “I am glad to see you again.”

  “Thank you, Ambassador,” replied Siri stiffly. I bridled at the enforced silence. I knew what Ambassador Bern had done for me. For Bianca, he would have moved whole worlds.

  The ambassador turned from us to Captain Jireu. “Thank you for your escort, Captain Jireu,” he said.

  Captain Jireu bowed. “You are both most welcome. Field Commander, I will leave you and the ambassador to make your formal presentation. You can ping me when it’s time for us to travel to Moonfour.” With a final glance at me, he turned crisply on his heel and marched away, becoming a shadow behind the aquamarine glass walls as he turned the corner.

  “Our hosts are waiting.” Ambassador Bern gestured toward the far side of the chamber at a second pair of huge, gilded doors. The panels were embossed with more branching trees. Crowds of men and women stood among the foliage. Before I had a chance to look closely at them, the doors were pushed open by another team of servingmen, letting us know we were expected, and that somebody else controlled our movements.

  I saw Siri flex her right hand once, a small motion like the raking of claws.

  The rooms in front of us were built on a more human scale. The ceiling had a skylight dome to show the textured-ice sky and the occasional ocean denizen that glided over, casting a shadow like a cloud across the patterned floor. But the walls were opaque, decorated with framed screens, most of which displayed static art. Some of this was in the form of hieroglyphs or ancient Chinese watercolors, but much more was portraiture, with the forest theme repeated and reworked into every surface.

  Reminders of empires and dynasty and the long history of power held by an individual family. Not subtle.

  Two people sat on the curving sofa at the very center of the room. They were a matched pair: Esteban Donnelly Erasmus and Mai Godsil Erasmus. Their dress was elaborate, as was the style here, but the most striking feature of it was the collars of rank each wore. These were broad Byzantine creations that covered breasts and shoulders. Saeo Mai’s had been made in all shades of blue and green trimmed by white above and black below, all sweeping and shining like the currents in the water outside. Saeo Esteban’s was a match, only it was all done in shades of red, orange, and gold made to mimic the skin of the gas giant we orbited.

  Because of Jasper and Felice Erasmus, it was decided by their heirs that the rulers, the “Saeos,” of the system’s governing board would always be husband and wife. The solidification of families through political and corporate marriage was an ancient idea that had never quite died. It certainly made for a very potent symbol, but only as long as the people in the primary relationship agreed to hold steady.

  Esteban and Mai must have been fairly steady, because underneath her beautiful robes, Saeo Mai’s belly showed her to be profoundly pregnant.

  I folded my hands and bowed, dipping my gaze from Saeo Mai’s bright smile, and Saeo Esteban’s suspicious demeanor. Siri stood behind me, the good subordinate, silent, respectful, and watchful.

  “Welcome to Erasmus, Field Commander Drajeske.” Saeo Esteban Donnelly Erasmus’s voice was deep, authoritative, practiced.

  “Saeo Esteban, Saeo Mai,” I said. “Thank you for receiving us into your system.”

  “Please believe that we are truly sorry for the circumstances necessitating your presence.” Saeo Mai also had a deep voice, but with an edge. This was a woman who knew exactly who she was. She was less certain who I was, and that bothered her. Which was only fair, because something about this entire scene was bothering me.

  “We are ready to assist you in whatever way possible,” Saeo Mai went on.

  “We have accommodation for you here on Moonthree,” added Saeo Esteban. “And we will be able to place a shuttle at your disposal as soon as you need it.”

  Ambassador Bern bowed again. “You will understand, I hope, that the Field Commander is still determining the scope of her investigations, and may need to spend at least her first few days on Moonfour, talking to the aid mission to which Bianca Fayette was attached. We need a more complete picture of her circumstances. I’m certain, after that, we’ll find this was a tragic accident and nothing more.”

  And it buys me a little time before I have to walk into whatever cage you two have prepared for me, I thought.

  You two.

  Now I knew what was nagging at me.

  Where are your people? Where is your government? What are you two doing alone in this cavern? We knew that most of the family was kept from contact with…anyone. It was like the ancient Persian courts, where the more precious a person was, the more isolated they were kept in order to preserve purity of blood and ideology. But this was a place where work was done directly by humans, by living hands and eyes, not by computer surrogates like back home. The slaves they’d surrounded themselves with were not doing the governing. And somehow I didn’t believe the real work was being done by the Clerks.

  Seats of government are busy places. This one was practically a museum. We were seeing servants. We were seeing figureheads. We were not anywhere near the real power.

  “I sincerely hope you are correct,” said Saeo Esteban, and I know I did not imagine the brittleness in his tone. He did not like Ambassador Bern’s diplomatic response. Probably he was the sort that preferred to be the only liar in the room. “It is extremely regrettable that anyone here to help the people of Erasmus should meet with such a pointless end.”

  “Field Coordinator Fayette was also presented to you?” I asked, with the air of checking things off my list.

  “She was not,” replied Saeo Mai.

  “We generally meet only with the heads of the Solaris missions,” said Saeo Esteban. “Is there a reason we should have been given her credentials?”

  “Yes.” I frowned at Ambassador Bern. “As a representative of the United World Government for Earth, she should have been formally presented, or at least her credentials should have.”

  Bern picked up on my tactic and actually managed a squirm, which was made highly noticeable by the lines of his formal coat. “I was unable to formally present her credentials, because they were not presented to me.”

  “I beg your pardon, Saeo Mai, Saeo Esteban.” I made sure I sounded angry, like I was surprised I’d been left out of this particular loop. “Clearly, I need to spend more time assessing the situation. I hope to be able to meet with your representatives in a few days to give you a full update.”

  “Of course, Field Commander,” replied Saeo Mai smoothly. I saw the subtle signs of smugness in her courteous manner. Now it appeared as if
I had no idea what was going on. Hopefully, they’d believe I possessed an honesty born of naïveté and that I would spend more time investigating my people than theirs.

  You see? I could practically hear Saeo Mai thinking as she laid one hand on her husband’s and the other on her pregnant belly. You see? Nothing to fear.

  The problem was that Esteban was still watching me, and he was nowhere near as sure.

  Surprise, surprise.

  We made our bows and murmured our pleasantries and were ushered out. The doors were closed behind us.

  “Ambassador, we clearly need to talk about this,” I said aloud. Aloud and with a serious overtone of annoyance. “Maybe your office?”

  “Of course. This way.”

  Bern pushed open the door and once more we found ourselves in the middle of an escort of Clerks and servants. We marched forward with Siri three paces behind, not saying a word.

  The Solaris embassy was in the bureaucratic wing: a huge suite of interlocking chambers dropped right into the middle of the main hive of Clerks. To get to their own space, every embassy staffer had to walk past the sprawling open office filled with the Clerks in their black uniform coats, working in a silence that was positively eerie. The Clerks spoke no more than the servants did. The difference was, the Clerks watched you as you walked by, with bright and very interested gazes.

  By the time we reached the plush—and much more private—offices on the other side of the Solaran embassy doors, the sound of human voices was a sweet music. The door shut and sealed behind us. I turned a little to Siri, but she spoke up before I could.

  “Ambassador, I’d like to spend a little time with your staff,” Siri said. “To get up to speed on the security and some of the interaction questions.”

  “Of course, of course.” I could have sworn Bern actually looked relieved at that. He beckoned over our heads and a brisk young man with straight black hair and half-moon eyes stepped up to us. “This is Marin Shun. Marin, this is Field Coordinator Baijahn of the Solaris Guardians. See she has access to what she needs.”