by Philip Hamm
“If, for the sake of my people, I can avoid centuries of debt,” Nacyon corrected, “It’s only sensible to look at an alternative solution. I want nothing for myself.”
“Except Sapadilla,” Rimmon added.
Nacyon shrugged, “I still don’t see how that would be possible.”
Ynch said, “Do you think the peace between the empires will continue forever? Do you believe Tun and Zamut are content to watch each other thrive? Do you think humanity in general when be content to live with what they have? Or will ambitions grow? Will the desire for power creep into the minds of men who never experienced the Hundred Year War or saw its horrors?”
“I couldn’t say,” Nacyon replied, slightly taken aback by the dwarf’s negativity towards the human race.
“Believe me, in the not too distant future, there will be a civil war in the Tun Empire, Zamut will seize the opportunity to recover lost territory and the Council of Empires will completely fail to stop them. It is inevitable that the Third Sphere will descend into a second century of war.”
“That’s a very bleak outlook...”
Ynch shrugged, “It is the truth. But you can ride the wind like a kite or let it blow you over – which would you rather do?”
“I’d rather fly,” he said.
“And we can help you.”
“I would like that very much.”
Ynch paused and then said, “We will come to Rhizic and present our deal to King Tragacanth. We will bring an advanced payment, in gold, in anticipation of the first shipment of Pavonine generators. I will see to it that Prince Rhatany’s agreements with the merchants in Megaron City are honoured by the bank, at no charge, until such time as you can afford to pay your bills yourself. Rimmon will give you papers to show Quern and Rhatany, outlining our terms and conditions.”
“That’s very generous,” said Nacyon.
“Naturally, if Tragacanth doesn’t agree to sell us the generators, the bank will have to start charging interest on the loans.”
“Naturally - but I’m sure he’ll see the benefit of doing business rather than subjecting our people to debts they will struggle to pay.”
“But will he agree?”
“I would hope so…”
“But you’re not sure…?”
“He might be concerned that there could be repercussions for our relations with our neighbours; they might interpret this deal as a threat. A loan binds us to the bank but our agreement looks like a partnership…”
“This is not a partnership, Nacyon, it’s an exchange – our gold for your generators, that’s all. And it would be hypocritical for Saron or Zamut to complain; we do business with both of their empires.”
“I’m just trying to anticipate his reaction; he has worked hard to maintain the peace treaties between us and the humans and he’ll do nothing that might upset them.”
“Thank you for your advice. The deal could be kept secret if it makes him feel safer.”
“I’m sure it would.”
Ynch looked around the hall, “What do you think of Zagan’s palace?”
“I’m very impressed,” Nacyon replied. “But it must have been more interesting when it was full of people.”
“I expect it was,” he agreed.
“Do you think the Zarktek will reclaim it one day?”
“Perhaps,” Ynch said, turning back to him and smiling, “But not for many years, I think.”
“If they’re still alive…”
“They were designed to be immortal – there’s no reason to believe they’re dead.”
Nacyon felt the interview was at an end and thanked his hosts for their offer. “I’ll be sure to do my best to persuade King Tragacanth to accept it,” he added.
“There’s one request I would like to make of you,” Ynch said before he could turn to leave.
“Anything,” Nacyon smiled, hoping it wouldn’t break the deal if he refused.
“Zizania,” he said. “Her birth must have come as quite a surprise...?”
“Yes – I don’t think the King and Queen expected to have another child.”
“I believe there is some doubt as to whether she is a legitimate heir or not...?”
“There was some,” he admitted. “There’s nearly eight years between Zizania and her youngest brother, the previous heir, Prince Rhizic, and nobody thought Zivola would conceive again. But we tested her blood and there’s no doubt the DNA matches her parents’.”
“I believe there were twelve tests, am I correct?”
“One on behalf of each of our worlds and every test confirmed Zizania wasn’t some kind of cuckoo in the nest...”
“What happened to the vials of blood?”
“I believe they’re in the Reliquaire on Nidus.”
“They were not destroyed?”
“No – that would be sacrilege. The blood of a future king or queen is considered to be the essence of our ancestors. Why do you want to know?”
Ynch stared at him, long and hard, “Bring me one of those vials and you can have everything you want.”
“But what do you want it for?”
“We wish to look at her genetic fingerprint too – we’re not sure there hasn’t been some kind of trick played on your people.”
“But to what purpose and why does it matter to Rickoby?”
“As you said, she will be queen one day – it matters to the whole of Evigone.”
“I can assure you the tests were undertaken by the most reliable of means. There is no mistake – Zizania is the heir...”
“I’m sure you’re right,” he smiled. “But put my mind at rest and bring me the sample; when I have the vial, I will sign a deal that will make Quill rich enough to build both a fleet of merchant ships and a new Imperial navy.”
“I can’t just walk into the Reliquaire and steal it – Nidus is a holy place, guarded by conquistadors and priests...”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way,” he smiled. “You’re the Rao of Sapadilla and you will be responsible for bringing more wealth to your people than any other individual, including the king; a tiny vial of blood is a small price to pay.”
*
Fratris said impatiently: “But what did they want it for?”
“You’ll find out,” Faam smiled.
Crotal asked, “Did anyone really think Zizania might not be the proper heir?”
“It was a surprise when Queen Zivola became pregnant again. She was in her forties by then and even though she was close to the king, they rarely slept together. It was only natural that people might have doubts – after all, it’s not uncommon for Quill to be unfaithful to each other. According to their religion, if a couple fails to have children, it’s their duty to mate with somebody else.”
“Why is having children so important?” Fratris asked, slightly disgusted by the whole topic.
“It goes back to the early days just after the Junopta created them: it was essential for the population to increase as quickly as possible so they could help the Junoptans defend their old empire in the north. Unfortunately for them, the Ulupans, who were created by the ultra-alien Kilia for the same purpose, multiplied at a much faster rate. The Junoptans were beaten by Ulupan’s numbers and by their superior technology. They were forced to return to their world in the Second Sphere but because it’s a gaseous planet, they couldn’t take the flightless Quill with them.”
“The Great Exodus,” said Crotal, pleased he had remembered something he’d been taught back in his nursery on Granadilla.”
“Very good,” said Faam.
Fengtai looked blank, “What’s that?”
“It was the time, 3000 years ago, the Junoptans carried the Quill in their largest ships all the way to Virgate in the south.”
“How long did it take them to get there?”
“Not as long as you would think. Back then, all of the gates between the Second and Third Spheres were open and they used the gate to Junopta and the Travira Dansaii across the Second Spher
e to come out in the Tufa system to the north of Virgate.”
“Travira what...?” said Fratris.
“Dansaii – they’re the links between the systems of the Second Sphere. They’re like the roads across the Third Sphere but they take only moments to cross because of the gates between them.”
“Like holes in space and time,” said Fengtai. “My Shogun tried to explain the science to me but I’m afraid I didn’t really understand. I just think of them as magic doors,” he said to Fratris.
Fratris gave him a look, “Magic doors...?”
The big Penti shrugged, “I find it helps.”
“Anyway,” said Faam, jumping into the pause. “The Quill settled in the south and the Junopta went back to the Second Sphere and there hasn’t been any contact between them for centuries. However, the Quill believe absolutely the Junopta will come back to them one day and for that reason they still keep the commandments the Junopta gave them – including the order to have as many children as possible. That’s why they have such large families. Zizania was the ninth child...”
“I have three brothers,” said Fengtai proudly. “They’re all fishermen like my father.”
“I’m an only-child,” said Fratris.
“I had brothers and a sister,” said Crotal. “But they’re all dead now. I’m the last of my family.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. “But you’re safe,” said Faam. “Nobody is going to come for you here.”
Crotal nodded and stared at the grass. “It would still be nice to go home, though.”
The others nodded too and Fratris said, “I expect Nacyon felt the same, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he was ready to return to Quill.”
*
Rimmon took Nacyon back to Megaron City and warned him to say nothing about the blood. At the door of the hotel, he added, “I’ll fetch the papers from the embassy and see you in an hour. But I suggest you give your people the good news immediately – it seems they’re getting ready to leave…”
He was right; porters were bringing their trunks through the doors and stacking them ready to be carried to the port. “You’ll have to hurry,” Nacyon said. “I doubt if I’ll be able to stop them on my own.”
Nacyon ran up to Quern’s suite. Inside, the mood was grim; the talks with the RBCC had collapsed completely, making Quern look weak and pathetic, and the merchants were angry with Rhatany for breaking his promises. Nobody would now sell them so much as a pin. There seemed no point in staying.
Quern saw Nacyon enter their suite and demanded angrily, “Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“I’ve been talking to a representative of the Empire of Rickoby,” he replied, hoping it would impress them.
“Go and pack your things – we’re leaving on the Apus within the hour.”
“But Rao Quern – I bring good news...”
“Try and find some servants to carry the luggage to the dock. Quail...? Where’s that boy got to – he’s more useless than a paper duck...”
“Rao Quern,” Nacyon repeated, louder and without moving.
The Rao stopped and looked at him, “What ‘news’?” he said bitterly.
“The Empire of Rickoby is willing to negotiate a trade deal with us. They want to buy our Pavonine generators – as many as we can supply. They’re willing to ask the bank to grant us an interest-free loan so we can pay the merchants. They’re going to bring a contract to Rhizic for King Tragacanth to sign and an advance payment in gold.”
The Rao stared at him, “Have you been drinking?”
“I was approached by one of their representatives while you were negotiating with the bank and he took me to meet Procurator Ynch, Councillor Sagapenum’s lieutenant. The preliminary outline should be here soon...”
“How dare you?” Quern exploded. “You had no authority to go behind our backs like this – you’re not family, you’re just a ward...”
“But the deal will save Quill...”
“Tell your procurator he can keep his gold.”
“Uncle,” said Rhatany, who had been listening in the background. “If Nacyon is telling the truth, this could change everything.”
“But he had no right...”
“Uncle,” Rhatany repeated. “Listen to what’s being offered, read the paperwork and make your mind up based on the message and not the messenger. It can’t hurt us to stay a while longer and see if Nacyon’s new friends are true to their word; we can’t be humiliated more than we have been already...”
“Nacyon has no ‘friends’,” the Rao snapped, “Not here or anywhere else.”
Never-the-less, when Rimmon arrived an hour later with the promised paperwork, complete with Sagapenum’s seal, Quern was persuaded to stay another day. Their advisors examined the details and there was no doubt it was a better deal than the one with the RBCC. Rhatany began to dream again and even Quern calmed down.
However, to save face, the Rao said privately to Nacyon: “It would be better if the King thinks this is Rhatany’s work. It wouldn’t do his son’s reputation any good for the people to discover their prince had been ignorant of what you were doing on his behalf. I will admit to my failure to secure the loan but you will keep quiet when I tell the King Rhatany saved our mission from failure.”
Nacyon had no choice but to agree. He had no status other than the crumbs handed down to him by the Royal Household and his life was in their hands. It was a case of accepting the lie or being called a liar if he tried to tell the truth. And he knew which of them would be believed.
Whether it was because he felt guilty or because he thought Nacyon had humiliated him deliberately, Quern never spoke to him again. Nacyon could live with that but he was surprised and saddened when Rhatany distanced himself too. The Prince even managed to convince himself that the deal really had been his idea and boasted about it to the King.
Nacyon’s only compensation was the servant, Quail, whom Rao Quern dismissed on their return home. Seeing the boy as a fellow victim of the Rao’s temper, Nacyon asked him to be his servant and from that moment on, Quail became his most loyal companion.
A month later, Ynch arrived from Barras to sign the treaty between Rickoby and Quill. He met with King Tragacanth on the Royal Platform above Rhizic while his protégé met with Nacyon quietly, behind the scenes.
Rimmon asked, “Do you have it?”
Nacyon handed him the vial of Zizania’s blood. He asked, “What happens now?”
“Procurator Ynch will do as he promised; he will give your king the gold we’ve brought and take away the first of the Pavonine generators.”
“But what about me?”
“You will have to be patient,” he replied and put the vial away in his pocket.
They didn’t see each other again for a very long time. Occasionally, Nacyon heard Rimmon had visited but he never asked to see him and they never met by accident. He wasn’t particularly surprised; the Rickobites had what they wanted – what further use could he be?
For the next fifteen years, Nacyon found himself in minor roles of no importance while his cousin became the darling of the people. The Quill built new warships and a new merchant fleet and began to trade around the Third Sphere. It really was a Golden Age for the empire. But not for Nacyon; no mention was made of reclaiming Sapadilla and his standing in the Royal Household evaporated into nothing.
*
Fratris said, “But how did Nacyon steal the vial?”
“It wasn’t as difficult as he imagined,” Faam replied. “On his return, everyone on the mission was expected to give thanks to Pater Junopta and Mater Quill for their good fortune. He went with the rest of the Household to Nidus and during the prayers for their success, it was easy for him to slip away, find the Reliquaire where the blood of the ancestors was kept and steal one of Zizania’s vials. The door wasn’t even locked and everybody in the sanctuary was too busy giving thanks to notice he was gone.”
“How do you know that
’s what he did?”
She smiled, “I asked him. But this is privileged information – you mustn’t tell anyone else.”
Fratris nodded, “I won’t.”
“I’m telling you his story so you’ll understand how close we all came to a devastating war – one that isn’t over yet and could start again at any time.”
Fengtai asked, “Did Nacyon feel bad about becoming a thief?”
“I think he might have felt guilty, or even have substituted his own blood, if Rhatany and the Rao hadn’t taken credit for his achievement. But he was angry with them and he didn’t think about the possibilities a vial of blood can offer.”
“I don’t understand,” said Crotal.
Faam said, “What was Procurator Ynch?”
“Evil?” said Fratris.
“A dwarf,” said Fengtai.
“But what species is he?”
“He was a Rickobite,” said Fratris. “And that means he wasn’t human, like Rimmon, was he?”
“No – he’s a hybrid of human and ultra-alien DNA. He was designed and made by the Councillors of Rickoby to serve their empire, just like the Quill and the Ulupans were made to serve the Junopta and the Kilia. Some of the Rickobites are very large and some, like Ynch, are very small but have other gifts, like telepathy.”
Crotal asked, “Was Ynch telepathic?”
“I believe he was. But that’s not important to our story. The point is, if you have the skill and the technology to create another species, with just the building blocks of life, what can you do with a vial of Zizania’s blood?”
The boys thought for a moment but it was Fengtai who worked it out. “You can make a clone,” he said.
6 - Zizanias’ stories
Procurator Ynch took the sample of Zizania’s blood back to the Empire of Rickoby. Much of the technology to replicate and manipulate DNA was either destroyed during the Hundred Year War or carried to the Second Sphere by the ultra-alien gene-splicers of Genetric who had made it, but some of the equipment (and the ability to use it) had been saved by the Rickobites. Inside Sagapenum’s flint-shaped tower on the planet Barras, their scientists set to work.
