by D. D. Chant
“Red,” answered Leda. “I take it that it's a symptom of your allergy?”
Ben nodded.
“What have I missed? What’s happening?”
“What do you remember?” countered Leda.
Ben screwed up his face in thought.
“Fighting, a crash, bright lights, and lots of throwing my guts up.”
Leda grimaced.
“Poor Benji, it’s been a rough day for you.”
“For us all.”
Ben took stock of his surroundings, the rows of belted seats, and the confined space.
“When did we board this plane?”
“A few hours ago. They carried you on because you were out cold.”
Ben caught her hand.
“Leda, why is Astra so upset?”
She stiffened and looked to where her sister sat. Astra’s eyes were closed, her hands folded in to tight fists.
Ceadron squatted on the floor beside her chair, not touching her, but close enough to help her if she needed it. Penn and Balak hovered not far away, unsure how to offer support or what they could do. They seemed almost as shocked as Ben was, as though they too had never thought to see Astra so vulnerable.
Petta was clasped in Penn’s arms. It struck Ben that her family were very protective of Petta, and that she seemed to take conflict of any sort badly. Whenever he saw her she was always seeking comfort and reassurance.
Petta was, he realised, very fragile.
“Leda?” His tone was firm, demanding an answer.
“She’s remembering.”
“What? What is it she’s remembering?”
Leda twisted her hand away from his and dragged her fingers through her hair.
“The day she was captured.”
Before Ben could say anything else, Astra pulled herself upright and pushed the hair back from her face.
“Please excuse me.”
It was, Ben thought, a strange thing to say. It sounded so formal, as though she was distancing herself from everyone in the room. Astra smoothed her hands down the soiled jacket of her suit as if she was collecting her scattered composure.
Ben watched in fascination as the troubled and scared young woman of just a few moments before disappeared, shrouded in an almost impenetrable cloak of self-control that gave no hint of the vulnerability that lay just below the surface.
Within a few minutes Astra Uel Ne Toban, subsidiary to Councillor Ladron, sat before them, calm, dignified, and somehow untouchable.
“How long have we been flying?”
“One of the soldiers came back not long ago and said that we land in an hour.” It was Balak who answered her.
Astra nodded frowning.
“That doesn’t give us much time.”
“Time for what?” asked Penn.
“Time to get our story straight: they can’t find out who Ben is.”
“You told them he’s our brother, isn’t that enough?” asked Ceadron.
“It’s enough so long as we don’t give ourselves away.” She turned to Ben. “From now on you are Benji Va Dic Toban. How old are you?”
Ben was a little taken back by the question.
“Twenty eight.”
Astra nodded.
“Then that makes you the second son.” She paused. “A good lie always mixes elements of the truth with pure fabrication. They are also the easiest to maintain because they are based in fact.”
“He’ll need a crash course in the Toban family history,” stated Leda.
Astra nodded.
“You know already that our father’s name is Uri. Our mother’s name was Bella, her maiden name was Henri.” She paused so slightly that Ben thought he might have imagined it. “She died nine years ago.”
“How did she die?”
Astra didn't answer at once and the room was deathly silent.
“A car accident.”
Ben surveyed the room again but no one would meet his eyes.
“An accident?” probed Ben gently.
Astra’s shoulders stiffened and she ran a hand down the front of her jacket.
“That was the finding of the courts,” she answered shortly.
“They said she ran a red light.” It was Balak’s voice, gruff and slightly unsteady.
“Councillor Ladron?” asked Ben.
Astra nodded slowly.
“We could never have proven it, but… we think so.”
“Why?”
Astra blanched, and for a moment Ben thought she might be sick.
“We're straying from the point,” she answered abruptly. “Ceadron is eldest at thirty-one, Balak is twenty-seven, Leda twenty-five, Penn is sixteen and Petta is fourteen.”
Ceadron looked him over appraisingly.
“Do you have any combat training?”
“A few self defence classes, nothing very vigorous.”
Astra frowned.
“Then we can’t pass you off as a securitor like Cead and Balak. Your knowledge of our technology is far too limited to claim that you work in the factories.” Astra paused, rubbing her temples. “Do you have any medical qualifications?”
Ben shook his head. He'd never felt quite so inadequate before.
“Wait a minute,” interrupted Penn, holding up a hand. “Instead of listing all the things he can't do, how about we ask him what he can do?”
In the silence that followed the boy’s suggestion, Ben felt all eyes turn on him. He was at one and the same time grateful that the Va Dic Toban family was no longer finding fault with him, and irritated at being put on the spot.
“You said the best lies were those based on the truth, so why not say I’m a subsidiary?” he replied at last.
“That would work. Then, when he refuses to answer any questions, the Una will think it’s loyalty, not ignorance,” agreed Leda thoughtfully.
“What about the news bulletins?” asked Balak. “The Una intercept them; what if they recognised him?”
“I don’t think they will, after all Ben hasn’t accompanied his father on any of the tours. The only news bulletin he would have been in was the diplomatic mission’s arrival in the Tula Strongholds,” observed Uri.
“And besides, I don’t think anyone would recognise him just now anyway,” pointed out Penn bluntly.
Again Ben found himself scrutinised from head to toe and Penn shook his head.
“He barely looks human let alone recognisable! And we could keep renewing the black eye…”
Ben groaned.
“And you’re supposedly on my side.”
“I don't think that will be necessary, Penn,” interrupted Ceadron. “We just have to make him look more Tula.”
He cast a critical eye over Ben’s apparel.
“His shirt and trousers aren’t noticeably different from ours, and we left his jacket behind. There is one thing…”
“His hair,” supplied Petta.
Ben lifted a hand to his curly hair. Uri Va Dic Toban and his sons hair was oiled and combed back from their faces as was the Tula practice.
“But it’s easily mended,” continued Petta walking over to the tray of food that stood on a slide out table on the opposite wall. Remnants of a hasty snack of cheese and bread stood on the tray, and a small bottle of oil with a stopper in it. The soldier, Shin, had brought it in earlier.
Petta poured oil into her palm and handed the bottle to Penn to hold before rubbing her hands together and reaching up to slide them through Ben’s hair. She repeated the process and took a step back, looking him over critically.
The oil tamed his curls into neat waves and darkened them to a rich brown.
“Better,” concluded Ceadron. “Much better.”
“What’s much better?” asked Shin Uel Ne Phoenix.
They hadn’t noticed him entering the section of the plane that they sat in, and the room froze into silence.
“Benji’s much better,” answered Petta with a smile as she slid her arm through Ben’s.
Ben looked
down at the girl standing next to him. He hadn’t thought of her as capable before, she had been so fearful, and yet here she was calmly taking charge of the situation and easing the guilty atmosphere.
Shin looked from Petta to the rest of her family. His eyes locked on Astra where she stood protectively sheltered in the middle of the group.
“Dam’sel Aya, the Headmen wish to precede with the judiciary rulings as soon as possible. However, this can be postponed until you have rested if that is your wish.”
“That will not be necessary, Senior,” returned Astra. “I wish to end this ordeal as soon as can be arranged.”
Shin bowed slightly.
“I understand,” he returned. “Then is there anything you wish to ask me?”
Astra raised her eyebrows.
“What sort of questions?”
“Concerning the judiciary proceedings, what you can expect.” Shin paused looking vaguely uncomfortable and cleared his throat. “Or perhaps about your family, your blood family that is?”
“Any information on either subject would be welcome.”
“The purpose of the judiciary proceedings is to allow the Headmen to decide if you have committed treasonous acts during the time you were captured. You will be called upon to testify as to your upbringing with this family, and the work that you were involved in whilst aligned to the Tula government. Those who are considered to bear too close a bond of kinship with you will not be permitted to take part in the vote. They will not be allowed to defend you either.”
“Will I be permitted to defend myself?”
“Certainly, Dam’sel. You must forgive me for pointing it out, but there is no one else who will.”
Astra took the insult with an unnatural calm that Ben recognised only too well.
“And what of my family?”
Shin paused as though he was trying to frame an answer.
“Should you like to know of your brother or your sisters first?”
Astra shook her head.
“I meant what will happen to my Tula family? How will their future be decided?”
Shin attempted to gloss over his error, but Ben could tell he secretly found Astra’s preoccupation with her Tula family irritating.
“That is more difficult to say. I'm afraid that their problem is a little more... emotive.”
“Will I be allowed to speak on their behalf?”
Shin Uel Ne Phoenix’s mouth fell open in disbelief and horror.
“You intend to speak for your… for the Tula people who bought you here?”
“As you yourself pointed out, Senior, if I don’t speak for them, who will?”
He seemed at a loss for words, and Ben thought he could detect the first trace of disgust he had seen shining in the Una man’s eyes.
“I have told you already, Dam’sel, that it will not do either yourself or your friends any good for you to claim them openly.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not, Dam’sel.”
Shin Uel Ne Phoenix’s dark eyes met Astra’s frankly, and Ben watched them both carefully. He was struck by how much sadness the soldier seemed to feel. For a moment he was surprised. Then he realised the emotion was not for Astra, but a habitual part of his expression.
“There is more at stake here than you understand, Dam’sel.”
“I’m sorry, but the only thing of any importance to me is the safety of my adoptive family. I don’t expect you to understand that, any more than I understand why you should think that there is anything on this earth that should come before them.”
His expression stiffened, almost as though Astra had slapped him.
“Very well, Dam’sel, but you should at least know that there will be a price for your actions.”
“I’ll pay it gladly.”
“I’m sure you will. However, there are others who you will give no choice, and they will not be so willing to pay the price for your actions.”
“I can’t help that. If I have to choose then I choose my family, I refuse to feel sorry for that.”
The soldier smiled sadly.
“And one day you’ll realise just how badly you failed in that declaration, Dam’sel.”
-----
Shin left the prisoners quarters and softly shut the door behind him. He felt drained, as though Aya Uel Ne Singh had robbed him of his strength. He wanted to hate her, but somehow all he could manage was to hate what she was doing.
He sank in to a chair and cradled his head in his hands.
Her voice had been so calm; how could she be so contained, as though she was talking about the weather? Shin found her impenetrable serenity somehow unnerving. It was unreal, like the eerie calm before a storm.
Her family.
She was going to protect her family.
Shin could feel the irony of the situation only too clearly. To save her Tula keepers she was going to risk destroying her true family. Not that she knew, or cared to know, that.
He cringed to think what effect her actions would have on Kai.
He felt his own anger boiling over at the thought that she would disgrace her family and her people for these Tula men and women.
She hadn’t even asked how Rem, Jia Li or Li Lin were. She’d shown no remorse, culpability or shame for her own actions.
She was boldly unrepentant.
Shin frowned as this last thought entered his head, it wasn't quite right somehow. She just didn’t seem to think that she had anything to be repentant for.
He sighed, wishing he was back on the borderlands where everything was clean cut. There, at least, right and wrong was as easily definable as night and day. He had a feeling that things were going to get worse and very, very nasty. He stood and glanced down at his timepiece.
There would be no time for him to warn Kai and Rem of Dam’sel Aya’s plans. He closed his eyes. Now their only hope was that Elder Headman Amajit would somehow save them from the fire that she was determined to ignite.
Aya’s actions would come with a penalty, the Elder Headman was the only one who could lessen the blow.
Chapter Seventeen
The Una
Kai took his seat and glanced around the high court chambers. Its vaulted ceiling and heavily gilded and carved beams were familiar, yet at the same time menacing. Huge double doors dominated the wall behind the long table where the Headmen would sit. They were closed, awaiting the arrival of the Headmen from their private chambers.
The table contained two empty spaces: his father’s and Rem’s. They were seated along with him in the family box, a place usually reserved for Apprentice Headmen.
The gallery was more full than he had ever seen it before, packed with people eager for a glimpse of the traitor.
Kai folded his arms and looked down at Rem where he was sitting next to him, stripped of a part in these official proceedings just as he had been stripped of his Headman robes.
As Rem and his father would not be taking part in official Una business, they had discarded their Headmen attire.
Rem wore the usual garments of an Una man; a knee length waistcoat sashed closed over white trousers and a white shirt. One side of his waistcoat bore sharp creases where he’d absently pleated the fabric between his fingers. It was a habit that Kai knew well. Rem was nervous.
Strangely, Kai didn’t feel anxious.
The long hours of the past night had resigned him to the embarrassment that Aya’s return would cause.
Whatever happened there would be shame cast upon him and his family, and he was tired of trying to calculate the exact amount of humiliation they would be forced to carry.
The large carved door opened slowly and six guards, gorgeously decked in red and gold, entered the room. They were the Red Guard, the personal bodyguard for the Elder Headman. They stood to smart attention as the Headmen filed in after them. All those present in the hall rose from their chairs, and bowed as the Headmen found their seats.
Silence fell. Kai could almost feel the held
breath of all those present as they waited for the accused to be ushered in.
“Bring them forth,” Elder Headman Amajit commanded.
Unseen hands pulled back the large double doors at the far end of the room, and a murmur of excitement ran around the gallery. Three soldiers stood on the threshold, resplendent in their black uniforms. Two wore coloured sashes that proclaimed the family they sprang from, but the third wore no sash.
Behind them, looking distinctly bedraggled, stood Aya and her Tula keepers, two soldiers hemming them in.
From the distance between them it was hard to make anything out. The soldiers led them to stand before the Headmen, Shin at the front of the procession. He didn’t pause as he passed Kai and Rem, but for the briefest of seconds his eyes met Kai's.
For some reason Kai thought the look held a warning.
Then he saw her.
Her clothes were rumpled and stained by her recent adventures. The side of her skirt had split up one seam almost to her thigh. She was dressed as a Tula woman, and Kai was vaguely surprised by how little it angered him.
She was followed by four men and two women. Kai eyed them dispassionately, taking in the particularly dishevelled state of two of the men. One sported a heavy bruise and angry rash, and the other walked stiffly as though in pain.
The Tula men and women were corralled to one side, and Aya was left facing the Headmen on her own.
She bowed respectfully as an Una should, and Kai watched her long hair ripple forwards over her shoulders. As she straightened, she pushed it back, tucking the loose curls behind her ear.
She didn’t usually wear it down in Una fashion, Kai knew that much from the reports. Did she think to impress the Headmen, and those gathered, with a show of Una correctness?
She could have saved herself the trouble.
Rem stirred beside him, and Kai turned to see that the boy’s face had blanched sickeningly. He shifted in his seat so that he could lean a little nearer to him, without drawing attention from the crowd.
“What is it?”
Rem started at the whispered words.
“Nothing.”
“You look as though you might pass out.”
Rem stiffened, and Kai continued speaking quietly.
