Alexandre looked at the outstretched hand for a moment. Then he smiled, took it, pulled his father in close, and embraced him.
The assembled crowd cheered. Slowly at first, both sides began to break ranks and greet the other. As more and more people crossed over, there were a few more cries of ‘Father! Son! Daughter!”’ Cythereans and Corsario found themselves face to face with family they never knew existed. For most, there was only a handshake or a quick embrace. They were simple gestures, but Viekko could almost feel a great burden lift from the people gathered in that courtyard. After a few moments, his attention and the attention of many assembled there turned back to the Sala.
****
Isabel was getting impatient. She was confident in Gabriel’s ability to handle the situation, but what was taking so long? She looked at the handful of Corsario still holding her and the rest of the Cythereans hostage. Surely the ones that Viekko lead outside were dead or were about to be very shortly. This small force wouldn’t last a moment against the full extent of the Cytherean military. So what was taking so long?
The door opened again and that horrible man, Viekko, entered with an insolent smirk. Isabel frowned. This man should have been dead long before now. And yet he was walking into her Sala as if he’d just won the battle.
“Rainha Isabel Maximilliano,” he said, taking off his hat, bowing in mock respect and befouling her native language with his poor pronunciation. “I’m proud to say Gabriel and I have reached an agreement.”
Isabel stood. “Is that right?”
Viekko straightened up and placed his hat back on his head. “It is. You and your people are now free to go.”
The Corsario backed away from their captives. Isabel walked between the tables toward the open door, then stopped and glared at Viekko. “I will return shortly and, when Gabriel takes this Sala again, you will regret the dishonor you have shown to me and this place.”
Viekko bowed again. “I have no doubt Rainha.”
That was enough time wasted with these awful people from Earth. She tossed her copper-colored hair back and walked toward the main door. Once she had blinded them all, she would see to it that they all died. They would cause too much trouble as oculto. It would be better if this moment in history were erased forever. She would have to see to Joana as well and make sure all those troublesome devices were destroyed. It had been a mistake to invite people from Earth here. It was a shame. A powerful invasion from Earth would have shored up power for her and her house for at least another generation. But these people, they had no concept of honorable battle. They operated completely by deceit and treachery. It was best to be rid of them forever.
Isabel stopped just outside the main doors of the Sala. What she saw didn’t make sense. There should have been a terrible slaughter outside but, when she emerged, she saw lines of Cythereans and Corsario raising spear, sword, and lanca fogo in her direction as she walked out.
Gabriel stepped forward with his helmet in hand. “Isabel! Cytherean law states that any citizen who harms a person under the protection of Cytherea is guilty of treason against this great city.”
She glanced at the soldiers, both Cytherean and Corsario as they surrounded her. She hissed at Gabriel. “What is the meaning of this madness?”
“The law of Cytherea also states that any person born within Cytherean borders, unless found guilty of a crime, is entitled to the protection of the Cytherean State. Which, it turns out, means the Corsario are included in that law,” Gabriel continued.
A Cytherean soldier and a Corsario appeared on either side. They both pulled her hands behind her back and secured them with metal cuffs.
“This is an outrage!” screamed Isabel, struggling. “You cannot do this! I am the Rainha of Cytherea!”
Gabriel bowed slightly. “The Rainha has made clear the punishment for such violations. A person guilty of treason will be stripped of their ability to fight, and they will wear the robes of oculto for the rest of their life.”
Gabriel stepped forward until his face was inches from the Rainha’s. “Or perhaps it would be more fitting if such a traitor were banished from the city. This is a unique case and it must be considered carefully. I will call for a new Conselho. One made of both Cytherean and Corsario. They will decide the fate of Rainha Isabel Maximilliano.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
In a Christmas address, apparently transmitted to a fledgling colony, the Lady of Fire appears to bid farewell to her people:
“Good night, Cytherea. When you get this, I suppose it will be Christmas morning here. Christmas always reminds me of the way things were before the war. I remember being a little girl and leaving my sock out for Bom Velhino to exchange for trinkets. I remember skipping midnight mass to lay on the beach with my boyfriend. I remember the last time I saw the Christmas fireworks over Santos. They were amazing to behold. This land, our land, was once so beautiful. Tell your children. Tell them about the majestic Amazon and the Christo Redemptor. Tell them about the beaches of Ipanema and the wondrous highlands. Tell them… there are still people who remember them. Tell them we will fight forever if we must.”
-From The Fall, First Addendum: The Brazilian wars rediscovered by Martin Raffe
Viekko stood near the shuttle and watched as the last of the sun's disk crept below the mountains on the eastern horizon; the hazy atmosphere of Venus illuminated with stunning reds, greens, and purples. A sunset like this lasted a minute or less on Earth, but here, with Venus’ slow rotation, it went on for almost an hour. Long enough for Viekko to sit and really take in the beauty.
The shuttle’s engines kicked on with a high pitched whine. They would be leaving soon. Nearby, hundreds of Corsario streamed toward Cytherea’s city gates. Among them, he saw Alexandre, Daphne, and their small army of children being escorted by Gabriel. A little girl, skinny and clad in something resembling a burlap bag, tugged on the Captain’s red cloak. He stopped and hoisted the child into his arms then stopped to wave at Viekko standing at the entrance to the shuttle’s cargo bay. He tipped his hat and watched the newly united family walk as one to the Via Maximilliano.
Viekko wanted to believe that a new age of peace and cooperation was beginning on Venus, but it wasn't going to be that simple. It never was. The kind of hate and animosity that those two groups experienced is not something that is cured by a public handshake and a banishment. There were, no doubt, Cytherean citizens who were very happy with the status quo and who wouldn’t take kindly to their former enemy living next door. Corsario striving for a better life would find their progress impeded by old hatreds and prejudices. Both groups would have to live together with the reminders of the ancient conflict all around them. The Modesto Wall, the statues in the courtyard, the Sala Gran, if anyone in the city had sense, they'd take hammers to it all. Crush it all to powder, scatter it to the winds, and let that awful memory fade with the death of the last man who said the word 'Rainha' wistfully.
But people very rarely had sense. It would be a long struggle, one that would last long after Viekko was dead. But good things would happen; horrible things as well. That was the nature of the world be it Earth or Venus.
Isra walked out of the shuttle’s cargo bay holding a metal flask. She looked at him with her one remaining eye and held it out. “Care for a drink?”
Viekko took the flask. “What’s the word from the Ministry?”
Isra sighed deeply. Viekko saw a twitch in her eye, which was as close as Isra ever got to breaking down. “They are not happy.”
Viekko took a drink of the whiskey in the flask. “They ain’t ever happy, Isra. I think it takes a thorny branch up your urchleestei uneriin nukh to even be considered for the job.”
Isra cracked a slight smile, but it didn’t last. “They consider the whole mission a failure. Not only did we not start friendly relations with the local government, we led a revolt to overthrow it. They are worried that whatever government eventually takes control will want nothing to do with Earth. That is
assuming the Corporation does not swoop in while the government here struggles to consolidate power and support.” Isra took the flask to take a generous swallow herself.
Viekko waved at another small group of Corsario making their way to the city. “The people here are gonna be okay. We done a good thing here. Can’t the Ministry see that?”
“They do not see it that way. All they see is a civilization in turmoil because of our actions. There are talks of ending the Human Reconnection Project entirely. I am afraid to say this, but the project’s future and my career are both going to fare about as well as the Rainha.” Isra sighed, and her posture deflated. She looked up and added, “The sunsets are pretty here.”
Viekko nodded. “It’s gonna get dark soon. The nights here last six months.”
“It will be much longer than that. Cytherea may never come out of it.”
She turned and slinked back into the shuttle. Viekko was about to follow her but decided she might rather be alone. Nothing he could say would change anything.
The sun was down, and the last light was fading when Althea came into view, walking in the middle of a group of Corsario. She was having the type of conversation that can only be held with a few words spoken very loudly and slowly, along with an impressive amount of hand gestures. Althea made friends wherever she went.
Althea waved goodbye to the group and made her way to the shuttle. “Good evening, Viekko.”
“Evenin’. How are the patients?”
Althea let out a long, exasperated sigh. “As well as can be expected with primitive medicine. Most will make it through although I’m completely out of antibiotics and painkillers now. Also…” She reached into her black medical bag and pulled out a large bundle of herbs bound in twine. “They gave me this. It’s fornocha. I can’t wait to have it tested on Earth. If their tea has such beneficial effects, there’s no telling what compounds we can derive from it.”
Viekko grimaced at the bundle. “Stinks like pond water filtered through a litter box.”
Althea replaced the bundle. “Well, I wasn’t exactly interested in its culinary applications. Are we all set to leave?”
“Nearly. Colton just started the warm-up sequence, and we’re still waitin’ on Cronus.” Viekko glanced over her shoulder at the balding figure making his way toward the ship. “Speak of the horny little devil.”
Althea rolled her eyes and started walking into the ship. “Be nice to him.”
Viekko called back, “When am I not nice?”
Cronus’s thin frame was straining under the weight of a heavy backpack no doubt filled with all manner of technological nonsense. He walked with an odd quickness in his step. Well, everything that Cronus did was odd, but this was particularly so. It was almost as if he was hoping to trot right past Viekko without having to answer any uncomfortable questions, which was not going to happen.
Just as Cronus was about to step aboard the ship, Viekko crossed in front of him. “Cronus! You’re late!”
Cronus stopped and shifted the weight on his back. “There was much to finish before I left. There is untold information about Earth before the Fall on those computers. I had to download what I could and install a transmitter that would allow Neuvonet remote access in the future. It still needs calibration before I leave this world. I should do that.”
Cronus tried to step around Viekko and, if he were a kind man, he would have let him. As it was, he took another step in his path. “Howdja get on with Joana?” he asked, with a knowing grin.
“Uh... well. It’s not exactly the Electric Bordello, and Joana is a girl with class. That's not to say, she can't... well... I mean… she could... and she did... several times... but, I don't feel like...”
Viekko wasn't a kind man, but he wasn't strictly cruel either. “Bukh burkhdyg uuchlakhyg khus, Cronus. Don't need a play-by-play. Just askin’ if everything ended alright with you two.”
Cronus cracked a semi-guilty grin. “We found some common ground.”
“And did you two…” Viekko made a strange but guessable gesture with his hands.
“Coitus? By all standard definitions.”
“What about not-standard definitions?”
Cronus grinned again. “Some of those too.”
“And… how was it?”
“It was… perfectly flawed.”
Before Viekko could say anything else, Cronus slipped past him into the relative safety of the shuttle.
Viekko watched the little man slip up the spiral staircase to the crew cabins then turned back to see the last light fade from the Venusian landscape.
Perfectly flawed; an interesting way of putting it. Leave it to the netbaby to come up with a laconic phrase for all relationships. Maybe all of reality.
He turned to push the button to close the cargo bay door and disappeared inside the shuttle.
****
Within a couple of hours, they were in low orbit over Venus, and the Captain fired the final thrusters that would take them to Earth. It would be another three-month trip back; another three months of hibernation.
Viekko hated hibernation. When he arrived on Earth, he would have been away for over a half a year. All that time would pass by instantly for him. He would lie down in the hibernation pod, close his eyes and wait for the drugs. The next thing he knew, he’d wake up feeling like three-day-old roadkill. No dreams, no rest, just a head like a muddy swamp and a body like overstressed rubber bands.
Before that happened, there was one more thing that he needed to do, and it couldn’t wait three months.
He floated down the hallway to the hibernation chamber, stopped outside one of the crew cabins and knocked.
“Yes, Viekko,” said Althea from the other side.
He slid open the door. “I just thought it would be a good idea before—” He realized at that moment that she was in a semi-dressed state trying to slip into the nearly sheer sensor array for hibernation. Viekko spun himself around as soon as he realized. “Sorry, Althea,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean…”
Althea laughed softly. “It’s not like you to be embarrassed.”
Viekko gulped. “I just… well, I wanted to talk to you in seriousness. Don’t want you to think I was trying to sneak a peek or nothin’.”
This time Althea laughed outright. “Isra lets go of a mission, Cronus gets over his awkward nature enough to talk a woman into bed with him, and you want to get serious. Well, well, well, isn’t Venus a treasure trove of miracles? It’s okay. Actually, why don’t you help me with this?”
Viekko turned around. Althea had her back to him with the zipper on the rear of the suit almost all the way down. The suits had a long enough cord attached to the back that a person could zip it up by themselves. It was cumbersome, but it could be done. That meant that Althea was throwing him a bone, but he wasn't sure why yet. He pushed himself forward and put his hands on either side of her waist... just to stabilize him in the zero-G. She gathered her floating hair up while he slowly slid the zipper up her back. She smelled sweet, she always did, but after a couple of days in the heat and dust of Cytherea, something about it came out more.
“So what did you want to talk about?” said Althea.
“It was just that… well, before,” Viekko stammered, “When things was goin’ bad on Venus, you talked about leavin’ the project. You ain’t still gonna do that, right?”
“That’s up to Isra, I suppose. To be fair, the way she is talking there might not be much of a project when we get back to Earth.”
Viekko pulled the zipper all the way to the top, and Althea let her hair go again and spun around. “Yeah, she said pretty much the same thing to me,” Viekko said, keeping his eyes on everything except her body. “The thing is, well… if there ain’t gonna be no project or if you leave… I don’t wanna not see you anymore. I was wondering if, when we get back to Earth, if you’d like to… see one another. Say drinks or somethin’ similar.”
Althea just smiled. It was one of the most beautiful smil
es he’d ever seen which probably meant she wasn't going to give him the answer he wanted. “That's really sweet, Viekko.”
She started to pull her way past him, and he slid the door open for her. “That ain't a yes.”
She paused before going out into the hallway. “I’m not sure that would be a good idea. Our history hasn’t been exactly… well…we always find each other when we are at our worst.”
“Ah, to hell with your good ideas,” he said, still floating in the doorway. “Tell me, what part of callin’ the Rainha to the carpet for infanticide constituted a good idea? You knew there was somethin’ wrong with Cytherea, even while she had us dancin’ like puppets on her little strings. You feel when things ain't right, and you aim to change it. I don't know much, Althea, but I didn't feel right for months before you plowed through my door. And I know things ain't been right for you either. Maybe you're feelin’ like the whole world has turned on you or maybe it didn't want you. I say to hell with the rest of the world, they don’t deserve you. Not sayin’ us weirdos out on the fringe of civilization do either, but… well… we appreciate the way you class up the joint.” Viekko reached down and took her hand. “I guess, what I am sayin’ is, that I want to try this.”
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