Shadow Run

by Michael Miller

  Utter silence had descended over the room. Everyone was staring at her. Even Marsius and Arjan had halted their animated conversation at a table to look over.

  If Shadow was where Qole’s people ended up in death, Qole was where polite, inane conversation went to die.

  Solara, oddly, looked impressed.

  As for me…it wasn’t at all funny and would have been the most inappropriate thing I could have done as far as either my family or Qole was concerned, but for a moment I wanted to laugh hysterically.

  Mother cleared her throat first, followed by a chorus of the sounds. “Well, isn’t that fascinating? I’m sure we would love to hear about Alaxak all afternoon, but preparations really must be getting underway for tonight’s celebration.”

  I knew what would happen now. Everyone would scatter, and soon I would be so tied up in an evening of protocol that I wouldn’t be able to move, let alone talk to Qole.

  I turned to Father. “We must discuss a few things.”

  He nodded. “Agreed. However, there will be time later. Right now, we must arrange for accommodations for our no-doubt exhausted guests. Food, baths. And you, Nevarian, must prepare for the ball tonight, and for tomorrow’s events.”

  I nodded. “I know. And so should Qole. We must make sure that she is properly introduced.”

  “What?” Qole stared at me, shocked out of any last vestige of propriety. “Are you mad? I’m not going to any ball.”

  The king frowned. “Indeed, I’m not sure what the purpose would be.”

  “She would no doubt be terribly uncomfortable,” Mother chimed in. “It’s probably best that she get her strength back.”

  “What would she even wear?” Ket giggled.

  I felt myself flush slightly. “It makes sense because tomorrow is the Dracorte Conference and Report. Qole and I both risked much to get here in time for that, and for the major yearly accomplishments that will be celebrated in advance, tonight.”

  “Like our betrothal,” Ket said with satisfaction.

  “Yes, yes. And like the fact that we have an official representative from Alaxak who will be the key to unlocking Shadow’s widespread energy potential, an arrangement in which I’ve played an instrumental part. This was the point, Father. If we don’t impress everyone tonight and give them a reason to have faith in the Dracorte heir, then you know that the rumor networks will start churning.”

  Father hesitated. “I know Rubion was anxious to begin his study—the very basis for any confidence we might have on display tonight.”

  “He’s not going to finish his study tonight, and, anyway, Qole’s appearance will do much more for us than some Shadow-saturated algae, with all the rumors no doubt flying around about her. Her bounty put her in the spotlight. She’s wanted, and we have her.”

  The words brought even more warmth to my cheeks, but I tried to disregard it.

  King Thelarus stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Perhaps. A delay for just this evening might be permissible.”

  “No. No, no, no,” Qole said. “Ketrana’s right. Her Royal Majesty is right. You’re both so right, and Nev is wrong.” She stood in a rush and dusted herself off. “This was an honor. An honor and a pleasure. But I’m the last person who wants…who you want at a ball.”

  Solara sprang up beside her, grabbing her arm. “Oh, please reconsider, Qole. It will be ever so much fun, I promise. And Nev is right, it will make such a splash. The networks will be raving about the great things the Dracorte family will accomplish with someone like you to help us. What do you say, Father?” She turned to Father and pouted at him. “Do let’s invite our guests to the ball.”

  With Solara’s help, it seemed that I might yet get everyone—my family included—to accept Qole as a proper envoy of her planet and not something I’d tracked in on my boots. “Qole hasn’t received the best welcome on Luvos,” I added pointedly. “It’s time to set that right, and to show the world what we are made of and what the future holds for us.”

  The king nodded slowly. “I suppose. Solara, prepare the captain for the ball. Ysandrei, please find a manservant to help Arjan with preparations as well.” He raised his eyebrow at her.

  A perfect smile fell into place on the queen’s face, one that I knew masked disagreement. “Of course. Arjan, Marsius, do let’s get you both decent and more comfortable for the party.”

  Marsius looked up from the table where he’d brought Arjan drawing materials to illustrate how a Shadow run worked. “What? Party? Party! Oh, Arjan, we’ll have so much fun.”

  —

  A few minutes later, only Father and I remained in the great room. The chandeliers had been dimmed, and we stood side by side looking at the view of the city through the glass balcony. The sun was beginning to set, and a million lights flickered to life, some running like rivers and others twinkling like stars. Bright streaks traced the contours of the Starport as ships departed and arrived.

  Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

  It seemed like Solara, at least, had taken to Qole. Marsius was fast friends with Arjan, and Ket…well. It hadn’t served me to contemplate her too much before this point, and now I felt like I had a major incentive to do so even less.

  “Congratulations on completing your Flight,” Father said quietly. “I had my doubts about the whole plan, but you and Rubion persisted…and you were right to persist,” he added, making me blink. Father rarely admitted to being wrong, mostly because he typically wasn’t. “What you’re going to accomplish for this family, for this system, is worth being proud of.”

  The words warmed me, but I shook my head. “I’m beginning to realize, Father, that the people who deserve thanks are the ones who trust us to do the right thing. Qole went through a great deal to be here, and that was after I tried to force her to come.”

  He nodded. “Our responsibility is toward our subjects, and we cannot forget that. But don’t let your fascination with one person upset your responsibility to everyone, Nevarian.”

  I stared out the windows, trying to understand what he meant. Or rather, understand all of what he meant. Thelarus Dracorte never spoke of anything without multiple levels of intent, and I had grown up to be better than most at discerning his words.

  Except this time, I wasn’t sure I liked what I was reading. “I’ve remained focused on nothing but the mission, Father. Every action I’ve taken has been to further our goal of improving the lives of everyone. When we announce that we can make Shadow a safe source of energy, show that we have an example to work from, everything will change. But I’m also happy that, in the process, I’m learning more about our subjects and what they need.”

  Father nodded, and we remained silent another moment. I always enjoyed our conversations here, viewing the city. They had grown less frequent as I grew older, but they always gave me the same sense of connection to him and to our purpose.

  “That’s commendable, Nev,” he finally said. “Remember, however, that if you seek the best for people, you cannot afford to care for them too much. Your mind must remain clear to the realities.”

  I stared him directly in the eyes. Even now, no longer a child, I felt a little audacious for doing it. “I promised Qole her safety, and I would do anything to keep that promise.”

  “Of course,” he said, in a firm tone, using the words more as a but than an agreement. “I’m not talking about her safety.”

  He meant that I should keep my distance. That I was above her.

  “That may be a lesson I don’t know how to learn,” I admitted, without breaking my gaze.

  The king looked back at me with calm expectation. Suddenly I was eight again, at my Rendering, standing with weights on my shoulders and trying not to fall. “You will find, son, that life will teach it to you. Your only job is to be prepared for the lesson.” He turned. “It’s time; you should get ready.”

  He left me alone then, and my eyes wandered up to the fading orange sky. Somewhere out there, one of those points of light was the Alaxak subsy
stem. Somewhere there were asteroid belts, and gravitational currents, and molecular clouds with rivers of Shadow.

  I was supposed to be happy here; I had everything I wanted. So I wondered why I had felt more at home yesterday, on the Kaitan Heritage.

  I pushed it from my mind. It was indeed time.

  If it were possible to die of mortification, I was pretty sure I would be dead. And if that mortification was a weapon, then the Dracortes were wielding it. Or, at this very moment, five lady’s maids were, in the form of the soaps, scrub brushes, and hair combs they used to attack me. But it had been an unending assault from all corners ever since I’d stepped off the Kaitan.

  I sat in a scooping silver basin filled to the brim with more scalding water than I’d ever seen outside the few hot springs on Alaxak. The water was also infused with more perfume oils than I could hope to use in a lifetime, never mind at one time.

  The head lady’s maid, Ollava, leaned over my head and sniffed me, of all things. She eyed the dozen or so perfume bottles sitting by the side of the tub. “More spice, less floral. We need something sturdier to counteract the fur and leather still clinging to her.”

  There was nothing still clinging to me, in fact. I was stark naked in the tub, in spite of my huge audience. They were all women, but still, no one had seen me naked since my mother, and she’d left off dressing and bathing me by the time I was five, well before she’d died. My loud protests that I could take care of this myself went entirely ignored. They hadn’t even let me undress myself. Instead, they’d stripped off my blasted clothes for me and practically shoved me in the bath, where they’d given me a cursory once-over with scrub brushes. Everywhere.

  My clothes were already being removed from where they’d been discarded in a pile, so there was no chance I could snatch them back to cover myself. The maid picking them up held them away from herself with such horror, it was as if she thought they would come alive and bite her.

  “Who would wear a hideous thing like that?” the maid tittered to another in the corner, not quite quietly enough. Or maybe Shadow was enhancing my hearing in this extreme state of mortification.

  “What do you expect? I hear she drinks animal blood.”

  “Did you know she touched the king? With hands like those!”

  If my face wasn’t already burning from the water and the scrubbing, it would be from their words. I wasn’t even sure how I could feel more humiliated than I already did.

  Ollava sniffed for about the hundredth time, this time in the direction of my clothes. “To the incinerator with those,” she told the maid.

  “No—!” A bucket of water cut off my shout, dumped over my head by another maid. It only stoked my anger instead of dampening it. Sputtering, I said, “Could this water be any hotter? And if you burn my clothes, I’ll…”

  I didn’t quite know what I would do, and threatening people was probably yet another uncivilized show of my “rustic upbringing.” Solara had already pointed out several of those, never mind that stripping, sniffing, scrubbing, and then stewing someone to death seemed pretty uncivilized to me.

  She was an unfortunate addition to my audience. Her golden hair and creamy skin weren’t in need of washing, only styling and painting, respectively, so she sat at a curving desk of polished dark wood that was nearly as big as the command center of the Kaitan, ringed in lights, mirrors, and a few other maids. Fitting, since she was the pilot of this whole disastrous venture. And yet she looked more like a queen than a captain.

  Solara Dracorte was gorgeous in a way I’d never seen. Even Ketrana Dracorte paled in comparison, and she was so lovely she’d made my teeth grind. But Ket reminded me of an ice-raker, a type of fish that swam in Alaxak’s cold seas. Its eyes were huge and shiny to reflect the light from the pack ice above and draw attention to itself, and then when unwary prey got near enough, retractable jaws shot out to claim its life—falsely beautiful until you got too close and saw what lay within.

  Nev’s sister, on the other hand, possessed a beauty so powerful, it almost hurt to look at it, like the glinting edge of a Disruption Blade, or a blazing star. I had no idea what she and I were even doing in the same room.

  This was my room, technically—or rooms, since it was a sprawling suite in silvers, dark browns, and deep purples meant to complement my coloring, or so Solara had said. I’d choked when I realized she was serious. Apparently, the Dracortes had enough massive suites to pick one that best matched my hair or eyes or whatever, as if it were a blasted shirt. But equally apparently, I didn’t have the right to keep anyone out of it, and Solara had insisted on helping me get ready. So her maids had dutifully trekked her chests of cosmetics, soaps, and oils over here, where they were now piling her golden hair on top of her head in elegant, twisting loops and dabbing at her face with all sorts of creams. She’d said I would be next.

  Lucky me.

  She laughed now, her voice like a golden bell. “Why would you want to keep those scraps?”

  “Those scraps keep me warm in deep space,” I said through gritted teeth, as two maids took to scrubbing my hair. Pointing out the usefulness of my clothes didn’t make me, or my scalp, feel any better.

  After my braid had come undone, the tangled black waves had fallen nearly to my waist, so there was a lot to scrub…and to wrench at with torturous combs. I should have brushed it more often, if only to avoid this, though my hair wasn’t exactly a top priority during the peak of the fishing season. Here, I was getting the impression that things like hair and complementary colors were the utmost priorities. I hugged my bare chest and slouched deeper into the water in spite of the burn, both to hide from Solara’s piercing metallic stare and to shy away from the pain at my scalp.

  “After this party,” I reminded her, “I have to go back to deep space. You know, to work.”

  “Our dearest Nev no doubt promised you whatever you might want, so the least we can do is clothe you,” Solara said with an insinuating tone I didn’t like at all. I liked the mention of Nev even less. In the middle of such humiliation, the last thing I needed was to think about him. “Our tailors can provide you with the finest synthetic thermal gear in the galaxy.”

  “I don’t want the finest in the galaxy, I want mine.” I sounded like a stubborn child, but I couldn’t help myself.

  “Hm, how…sentimental,” Solara said, then glanced at the maid who still held my clothes pinched in the tips of her fingers and as far away from her liveried uniform as possible. “Have her attire cleaned and mended to the best of your ability.” Her already bright eyes lit with inspiration. “And why don’t you add a thin synthetic layer inside for extra warmth? There! A mix of rustic and modern, new and old—the best of both worlds, yes?”

  I felt like remarking that her world was no older or newer than mine, but I bit my tongue. Besides, she was trying to be nice. She was just failing at it miserably.

  Before the maid could leave, she added, “Oh, and add a nice ruff of melori fur at the collar.”

  I had no idea what melori fur was, but it was most likely as expensive and opulent as anything else a Dracorte would want to use as decoration.

  “No!” I said, and my sharpness made both the maid and Solara blink. I tried to lower my voice. “No…Your Highness…thank you, but—”

  “Are you quite sure?” Solara interrupted, her voice nearly as sharp as mine had been, before a smile melted away the edges. She evidently didn’t like being told no. “The bright white should offset the darkness of your face—”

  “Is there something wrong with my face?” I was beginning to wonder, with how hard the maids were scrubbing my arms. I’d heard of certain systems where people valued either darker or lighter skin, and the Dracortes were all nearly as white as fresh snow. “That’s not dirt, hey.”

  “Did you hear her accent, hey?” The maids tittered again, and for a second I hated them so powerfully, it shocked even me.

  These were the people I was trying to help? These were the people who stood for
justice and decency in the galaxy? They were supposed to have welcomed me like one of their own. If this was how they treated family, or even those who happened to share the same system with them, then maybe I should let them fall.

  The only reason I didn’t was that they would take what was left of my family down with them. I was still clinging to wild hope, to Nev’s promises that almost sounded too good to be true, that Arjan, Telu, and I could live longer than another handful of years if I cooperated. That we could maybe, someday, have families of our own.

  Hold on, you can get through this. You’ve been through worse.

  Maybe.

  “Oh my, do you think us so backward as to care about something like skin color? Us?” Solara asked incredulously, really meaning me—as if someone as backward as me could even presume to think them on the same plane as myself. “Haven’t you met Devrak, our head of family security? And there’s not darker skin in the galaxy outside of the Belarius family, whom I’m sure even you’ve heard of. They’re a royal line as noble, if not quite as old, as ours.” She sighed. “Their prince and heir, Heathran, is quite to my taste. You see, Dracortes can appreciate the beauty in all colors, whether of fabric or skin…just with their proper accompaniments.”

  We were back to complementary colors.

  I’d been through more near-death experiences than I could count, and yet I’d rather have been facing a thick asteroid belt, a difficult drone, or hell, a Treznor destroyer than this. To them, I was being a rustic idiot, but I was really only trying to maintain a fingergrip of control over the situation…and myself. And not just over my appearance. My anger was spiking, my shame deepening, and nothing I said or did—or tried to do—had any effect. I didn’t doubt that I was a better pilot than anyone in this room, maybe even the whole blasted citadel, and yet I didn’t know how to navigate this situation. I wanted to duck under the surface of the bath. Instead, a maid dropped another bucket of water over my head.