by Brenda Hiatt
Phelan, the first Royal to recover, sent me a wide smile. “I heard in Bailerealta that you were extremely gracious, Excellency. I see it’s true.”
I smiled back gratefully, but saw Gordon’s eyes narrow speculatively and suddenly remembered him talking with Brenna at lunch today. I wondered, too late, if my impulsive request might have added fodder to any rumors about Rigel and me.
Hope not, Rigel thought to me. I appreciate it, anyway. I was starving.
That made me feel better. Though I was careful not to look at him, I sent him a silent Thanks.
Not to be outdone by Phelan, Irving spoke up. “I noticed you were reading earlier, Excellency. It’s quite commendable that you are not letting the distraction of your first space flight interfere with your studies.”
“Thank you.” I was grateful for the change of subject. “What with all of our preparations for this trip, I had less time than usual for reading before we left.” Even as I spoke, I realized this was a perfect opportunity to fill in those frustrating blanks in today’s research.
“I’m currently trying to catch up on recent Martian history, but I can’t find much on the beginning of Faxon’s dictatorship. Does anyone know why? Most of you were on Mars back then, weren’t you?”
“I believe all of us were,” Phelan said as the others nodded. “Except perhaps Captain Liam?”
“I was off-planet for the actual coup, but I well remember the situation before and after.” The Captain gave me a rueful smile. “I apologize for the spotty nature of the Quintessence archives, Excellency. The truth is, very little documentation exists about that time, either on Earth or Mars.”
Mr. O’Gara confirmed that. “Once Faxon took power, he ordered anything critical of him wiped from all databases. He even had software designed to enforce it—data worms that proliferated throughout the colony-wide network, eating virtually every reference to him. A few articles and accounts were preserved on hard copy and squirreled away, but they won’t have made it into any texts yet.”
“But what about the pro-Faxon stuff?” I glanced around at them all. “If he was controlling the media, didn’t he have them publish biased reports? Fake polls and studies?”
A few sets of eyebrows went up with what seemed to be grudging respect. “Very true, Excellency,” Phelan said. “For most of his reign, news stories came out almost daily reporting how much better off the citizenry was under his rule, with fabricated statistics to back them up. At first most people accepted the stories at face value, but over time it became apparent that the news was distinctly at odds with reality.”
“Right.” Captain Liam looked troubled at the memory. “I heard story after story from those I, ah, smuggled to Earth during the years after Faxon took over. Disappearances and even executions covered up, falsified supply manifests showing two or three times the goods and food actually in the storehouses, even articles claiming a growing threat from Earth, when it was clear to anyone who’d been there that the Duchas are still completely unaware of us.”
A few more such examples were thrown out by the others, their remembered indignation clear.
“But after he was ousted, those false stories were wiped from the data banks as well,” Devyn concluded. “So it’s not surprising you found little about that time in the Quintessence archives, or anywhere else.”
As the salad plates were cleared away, I took advantage of the brief lull to ask my most burning question. “So, what drew people to Faxon in the first place? He must have had a lot of support to topple a government that had been operating successfully for centuries. Who were his followers and why did they go along with his plans?”
It was like the temperature of the room suddenly dropped twenty degrees. After a long, awkward pause, Phelan attempted to explain. “Faxon basely took advantage of our most vulnerable citizens, making false promises and exploiting their ignorance to create a sense of ill-usage in them that they had never had reason to feel before.”
“In short, clever lies.” Irving shook his head in disgust. “Unfortunately, those in a position to correct his rumors and propaganda did not realize in time how pervasive his campaign was. No one had ever attempted such a thing before, so we were less alert than we should have been. By the time the rumors reached Thiaraway, Faxon’s movement was already in full sway in the more remote villages and was gaining momentum even in the larger ones.”
“True,” Mr. O’Gara agreed quietly, “but there was still time to mount our own campaign against him, had enough of us acted together. Truth and numbers were still on our side. It is regrettable that so many chose to abandon Nuath rather than stay and fight for it.”
Every other Royal at the table reacted like Mr. O had just slapped them all in the face.
“Just because you chose to stay and play the hero,” Gordon began, his face reddening, but Devyn waved him to silence.
“Surely there is nothing to be gained at this late date by debating what should have been done.” He spoke so evenly, so persuasively that it took me a second to realize he was using Royal “push.” “Our current task, surely, is to come together to rebuild what Faxon destroyed. To unite our people and to regain their trust in government—any government.”
“Any government?” Mr. O’Gara sounded almost dangerous now. “Surely you mean their rightful Sovereign and her duly appointed and elected representatives?”
Gordon scowled, though I wasn’t sure if his animosity was directed at me or Mr. O. Probably both of us. Devyn, however, smiled a genuine-seeming smile.
“Of course that would be the ideal outcome.”
“I’m very happy to hear that.” Despite his words, Mr. O’Gara was still watching him narrowly. “As, I’m sure, is the Sovereign.”
I nodded and some of the tension seeped out of the room. Sean, Molly and Rigel relaxed noticeably. But though I was tempted to smooth over the awkward moment, if only for their sakes, there was more I needed to know.
“I’m curious.” The Royals all looked wary again. “You mentioned Nuath’s most vulnerable citizens. Which are those, and why were they vulnerable? And what, exactly, did Faxon promise them that they didn’t already have?”
When no one else spoke, Captain Liam answered. “While Nuath has never had the economic inequalities common on Earth—no homelessness or hunger, for example—there has long been a stratification of sorts among the fines. Some have tended to be more respected, for lack of a better term, than others. And some fines have traditionally had greater access to certain, ah, amenities.”
I thought I understood. “You mean the upper fines, the Royal and Science fines, live in nicer houses, have nicer clothes, eat nicer meals, that sort of thing? As well as having most of the say in government?” In recent centuries, I knew, the legislature had been composed almost entirely of Royals and Scientists.
“No one ever went without on Mars,” Gordon protested. “Not until Faxon’s depredations created shortages. But it stands to reason that those with greater ability, intelligence and education, those who make the greatest contributions to our society, are rewarded commensurately. It is also logical that they be the ones to take on most leadership responsibilities. You do understand how our government has always been structured, do you not?” He looked skeptical.
“Down to the smallest sub-ministry,” I assured him. “What no one ever bothered to tell me, or even put into texts, apparently, was what life was like for those in the so-called lower fines. Which would you say are the very lowest?” I asked Mr. O’Gara.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I, ah, can’t say I’ve ever thought of them that way…”
“Mining and Maintenance come to mind.” Captain Liam spoke so decisively, everyone jumped. “At least, those were the people Faxon approached first, as I recall.”
Sean spoke for the first time since we’d sat down. “Also Food Processing and Waste Management. I remember when we lived in Glenamuir, we had to be careful not to say anything against Faxon around them.”
/> I glanced at him in surprise. “You never told me that.”
“You never asked.” His face and feelings revealed anger and hurt, surprising me even more.
But now was not the time to argue whether I should have asked or he should have offered. I’d probably done enough to spoil everyone’s dinner. Still, I couldn’t resist one more question while we were on the subject.
“So what did Faxon promise those people? More status? Money? Power?”
“All of those, at least indirectly,” Devyn replied. “However, his main goal was to build resentment against the Royal fine. To convince people that they were being denied their fair share of what Nuath had to offer, and that they owed it to themselves and their families to demand it, even to the point of violence.”
Though the violence part was clearly wrong, I suspected Faxon’s supporters might have had legitimate grievances, at least early on. I knew better than to say so out loud, though. As I’d been told repeatedly, I needed every ally I could get and I’d probably just lost a few.
“Thank you.” I tried to encompass all of them with an apologetic smile. “And I’m very sorry if I brought up bad memories. Is anyone else ready for dessert?”
CHAPTER 20
rundacht (ROON-dahct): extreme secrecy; classified information
Farewells after dinner were a little strained. Not surprising, since I’d inadvertently offended nearly everyone there. Even Sean and Mr. O radiated discomfort and irritation. Captain Liam was the only one who still seemed pleased with me—maybe even more than when I’d arrived.
“Thank you again for honoring us tonight, Excellency,” he said once all the others had gone down in the lift and just he, Rigel, Molly and I stood in the hallway. “And especially for such a, ah, stimulating discussion. I must say, this was the first formal dinner I’ve enjoyed in years. Perhaps ever.”
His gray eyes twinkling, he gave me a parting bow and shut himself into his quarters. I smiled to myself and let out a long breath, relieved that I hadn’t managed to alienate everyone.
You’ll never alienate me, Rigel promised as I palmed open the door to our suite.
That helps more than you can imagine. Please remember that when I tell you everything I’ve had to keep secret.
He slanted a look sideways at me. And when will that be, M? You keep—
“Are you two as exhausted as I am?” Molly asked as the outer door shut behind us. “Rigel, why don’t you take your turn in the bathroom while I turn down M’s bed.” She punctuated her words with a big yawn.
Rigel nodded to Molly but thought to me, C’mon, M, it can’t be that complicated.
It is, but it’s also something you should know, which is why I’m going to tell you tonight. Since we can’t think through these walls, you’ll just have to come to my room after Molly is in bed.
What? That’s crazy! The cameras—
“Rigel?” Molly prompted, and he broke off that thought and headed into the bathroom.
Molly must really have been tired—the tension at dinner probably got to her, too—because she didn’t dawdle in my room this time. As soon as Rigel was out of their bathroom, she headed into it, yawning again. Though I didn’t leave my room, I left the door open so we could “talk” some more.
I meant what I said, Rigel. Wait half an hour, then come to my room and I’ll let you in. Then I can finally tell you everything.
He hesitated in the open doorway of his own room, looking longingly at me from across the big living room. You know how much I want to be alone with you, M! And to hear whatever your secret is, too. But what about these stupid cameras? A glance up at the nearest one punctuated his thought.
You heard what the Captain said. They won’t check the feed unless there’s a reason to. And if they do look, we’re screwed already after last night, so what difference does it make? In for a penny, in for a pound. Seriously, Rigel, as my Bodyguard, this is stuff you need to know!
It was that last bit that got him. Even from across the room, I could feel his concern—and longing—overcome his caution. I guess you’re right. They’ll either look at the feed or they won’t. Once I’m sure Molly’s asleep—
I’ll be waiting. My heart already beating faster with anticipation, I retreated into my room and started getting ready for bed.
After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I was incredibly tempted to put on the most alluring nightgown in my closet. But if I did, I might not get a chance to actually talk to Rigel and this might be the only chance I’d get to tell him about the Grentl. I compromised with a frilly robe over a pretty but not especially sexy pair of pajamas. Then I paced my parlor for the next ten minutes.
It was funny, but what bothered me most about finally telling Rigel the truth was breaking my promise to his grandfather. Shim was bound to find out at some point and he’d be disappointed in me. Why that should matter so much when I’d been disappointing Aunt Theresa on an almost daily basis for most of my life I wasn’t sure, but it did. Not that it would stop me.
Finally, I heard a faint tap on the door. I immediately opened it, pulled Rigel into my sitting room and closed it again. Unfortunately, the second I touched him, every thought left my head except needing to be closer to him. He didn’t even resist this time when I threw myself at him and a half-second later we were kissing like it had been weeks instead of just one day. It was wonderful. Beyond wonderful.
Rigel’s hands roamed up and down my back and I wished I’d gone with the sexy nightgown after all. Now that he was here—
“Whoa,” he murmured, pulling his lips a few inches away from mine. “It’s definitely not that I don’t want to…you know.”
“I know.” I forced myself to go sit on the little sofa so I wouldn’t be tempted to drag him into my bedroom. Into my bed.
Rigel gave a visible shudder as he picked up that thought.
“Sorry. I’ll try to behave. Because I really do need to tell you the real reason it’s so important for me to go to Mars right now, and to become Sovereign.”
He started to sit in the chair closest to the sofa, but I grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit next to me. We could have that much, at least.
“So it’s not just politics?” He was working as hard as I was to keep his mind off what we both really wanted to be doing.
“Politics is part of it, since I’ll need to build support to get Acclaimed and into the Palace. But honestly, Devyn Kane would probably be a better leader than I could ever be, he’s so experienced and charismatic and all.”
Rigel shrugged. “You sell yourself short in the charisma department, but yeah, I’ve kind of wondered if it would be so terrible if he, or somebody like him, got elected president or whatever and let you off the hook. Let us off the hook.”
“You don’t know how much I wish that could happen, Rigel! It’s been awful having to pretend to you that I really want to be Sovereign, because I totally don’t, not if it means we can’t be together.” I twined my fingers through his. “But…I have to.”
He just looked at me, waiting, so I took a deep breath and launched into the explanation I’d been rehearsing, repeating everything Shim had told me back in December, when I’d first learned about the Grentl.
“Until we ran away and they had to tell the rest of the Council, Shim and Kyna were the only people on Earth who knew, it was that secret. Even on Mars, only the Sovereigns and a few Scientists have ever known.”
Then I repeated what the Council had told me more recently about Faxon’s communication with them and what they’d done to him.
Rigel stayed quiet the whole time I talked, a variety of emotions playing across his face and radiating from him—horror, doubt, excitement and, finally, understanding. “So that’s what you’ve been keeping from me all this time. These aliens.”
I nodded, beyond relieved that he finally knew, that he could finally understand everything. “I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone for fear of starting a panic. And the Council said if I told you, they
wouldn’t let you come to Mars at all. So…I didn’t. But I really, really wanted to. You can’t imagine how much I wanted to.”
He gathered me into his arms, but gently this time. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with all this alone, M. I get why you had to, but I wish I could have helped. Been, I don’t know, supportive, at least, instead of acting like a jealous jerk. You know I wouldn’t have told anyone.”
“I know you wouldn’t, but Mrs. O can always tell if somebody’s lying, and you’ve said that Shim usually can, too. Do you really think we could have kept either of them from knowing, if I’d told you? I didn’t dare risk you getting left behind.”
“No, I get it. You’re right.” I could tell he was still struggling with disbelief, as well as guilt for the way he’d acted when he’d thought my secret had to do with Sean. “So, what can I do to help, now that I know?”
I tried to get Rigel to stay a while after we’d talked through the whole Grentl thing, figuring this was our best chance to be truly alone for weeks, but after half an hour of cuddling and kissing, he insisted on leaving.
“If I stay, you know as well as I do we’ll do something we shouldn’t. I need to go while I still can. I love you, M.”
It helped, a little, to know he hungered to stay as much as I hungered for him to do so. I still sighed to let him go. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I love you, too, Rigel. Always.”
I woke up feeling fabulous the next morning, after the best makeout session in months. I hummed all through my two-minute ionic shower and while getting dressed in the outfit Molly had laid out.
Mmm. Good morning! I thought to Rigel when I joined him and Molly in the parlor. Did you sleep as well as I did?
Eventually. I had a lot to process first. You look fabulous, by the way.
“There’s a message.” Molly pointed at the flashing light on the vidscreen.
