by Ailx Nichols
“We didn’t do anything untoward,” he said quickly.
Her shoulders slumped. “Good.”
“Since we have only fifteen minutes,” Iyatt said, “Let me tell you why I’m here.”
“Go ahead.”
“Unie would like me to travel to another planet, Norbal, and find her brother who’s gotten involved with some bad people.”
“Is that why she sought you out?”
He nodded. “She’d like you to go there with me.”
Haysi’s eyes widened.
“I don’t particularly relish the idea of you accompanying me on that trip,” he said. “But that’s the only way Unie could talk with Derren.”
Haysi’s mouth twisted as if tasting something bad. “I don’t love the idea of traveling with you, either. But Unie is a wonderful person. I’ve gotten her this far… I’ll see this through.”
“There’s a transport that can pick us up tomorrow. Can you make it?”
“When will we be back?”
“By Fourth-day.”
“I’ll move some appointments around,” Haysi said. “Should be fine.”
A wave of excitement rose in her chest.
It was for sure rewarding to be able to do more for a fine woman like Unie. But most of Haysi’s joy was due to something else. She’d never traveled outside of Eia’s Central District, never ridden in a motor vehicle—let alone an interstellar spacecraft—never dreamed she’d get a chance to visit another planet. This was huge. A chance of a lifetime.
Hoping her face didn’t betray just how thrilled she was about the trip, she moved to open the door to let Iyatt out.
But he grabbed her wrist. “Unie wants you to have this.”
He thrust a wand of hundred-drinar notes into Haysi’s hand.
She stared at it, dumbfounded.
“One thousand,” Iyatt said. “Please recount.”
One. Thousand. Drinars. Exactly two-thirds of her debt.
“If anyone inquires how this money came into your possession,” Iyatt said, “feel free to tell them it was a gift from me.”
She shoved the notes into her brassiere. “I’ll take this to my creditors as soon as my client leaves.”
“Remember to ask for receipts,” he said, opening the door. “I’ll collect you at eleven tomorrow night.”
Eight
A colossal security guard with a different uniform from that of prison guards stepped into Nollan Dreggo’s dingy cell and planted himself by the door.
Nollan sat up on his bunk bed.
An old man wrapped in a long black cloak with a large hood hiding the top half of his face walked in next. He pushed the hood back, and his deeply wrinkled face contorted.
Doesn’t smell like your palace, huh?
Nollan didn’t say that aloud, of course. Instead, he dropped to his knees and inclined his head. “Your Royal Majesty.”
Another enormous bodyguard walked in, pulled the door shut and stood on the other side.
Squinting, King Aviesto looked around and then waved to one of the men. “Give us some light.”
The man turned on the dusty ceiling fixture.
King Aviesto sat down on one end of the bed. “Rise.” He motioned Nollan to the other end of the bed and added, “Sit. Kawa and fruit will arrive shortly.”
Nollan’s mouth watered at the king’s mention of kawa.
Funny how after six months in prison, he’d started missing the little pleasures of life more than his greatest possessions! Much to his embarrassment, he’d discovered that the things he cherished most in life were rather trivial. His morning kawa, his books, his daily rambles through Orogate University Park, the debates he organized for his students in the auditorium… Those little things meant more to him than his freedom.
Unless, of course, one posited that the sum of those unimportant things was what freedom meant to him.
Hadn’t Zhufen, one of the thinkers of old, possibly inspired by a Terran philosopher, said that simplicity was the source of true pleasure, and true pleasure was the source of personal freedom?
I should include his teachings in my Beliefs and Reason course next year!
Realizing the absurdity of that thought, Nollan shifted and glanced at the king.
His Royal Majesty gazed at the wall, unseeing and absorbed in his own thoughts.
The painful truth was that Nollan would never teach anything to anyone again. Not because he’d quit his job last year to run for Eia’s governor, but because he was going to spend the rest of his life rotting in a prison cell in Teteum.
If, perchance, thanks to a divine or royal intervention, he was released and allowed to return to Eia, he wouldn’t be able to go back to teaching, anyway. What awaited him in his home realm was arrest and death because Lord Boggond had already accused him of high treason.
Boggond had even reintroduced the long-abandoned decapitations to make sure Areg’s severed head was the last image the people of Eia would keep of their hero. Apparently, Nollan’s friend had managed to make a break for it on the day of his execution. But he’d been hunted down and killed by mercenary cyborgs a short time later.
“You seem preoccupied, Professor Dreggo,” King Aviesto said after a servant brought in a kawa pot and a fruit plate.
“No more than last time, Your Royal Majesty,” Nollan said, almost drooling while the servant poured his kawa.
King Aviesto was on his third visit to Nollan’s cell.
The first two times, they talked about everything and nothing, leaving Nollan confused as to what exactly the monarch wanted from him. Nollan had been upfront about where he stood regarding his realm and its current government. The king had said he appreciated Nollan’s honesty and enjoyed his erudition.
Was he visiting him for his conversation? To pass the time? To get to know each other better before he revealed his true motives?
Nollan was determined to ask even if it might cost him the stoppage of kawa and the king’s visits.
Closing his eyes to better relish what might be his last taste of kawa, he drained his cup. “Why are you here, Your Royal Majesty? What do you want from me?”
“Tell me about Eia.”
“I cannot—”
“I don’t want the secrets!” The king waved his hand with a mixture of irritation and dismissal. “That’s your jailers’ job, not mine. And I hear they haven’t been very successful.” He smiled before adding, “Not that I think you’re privy to anything truly secret.”
“Indeed, I am not, sire.” Nollan couldn’t help smiling back. “But then what would you like to hear?”
“Tell me about the realm’s daily life, its people, the way things are these days.”
“Don’t you have spies for that?”
“I do, but…”
“What, Your Royal Majesty?”
“They report to Commander Gunder,” the king said. “When I invite them for an audience, I get the impression their accounts have been… redacted.”
“You believe your commander in chief tells them how to spin their stories?”
“They talk only about the bad things, and they dodge half my questions.”
Nollan’s eyebrows rose.
“Eia used to have hospitals for the poor, universal literacy, an Endorsement Vote to choose a governor…” The monarch peered at him. “Do you still have those things?”
“Yes, we do. Eia has been a Republic for two generations, ever since the last Eckme king—”
The king gave him an impatient look. “I’m not one of your students, Professor Dreggo, and I’m not senile yet.”
“Forgive me, sire! It wasn’t meant—”
“I’ve been telling my ministers,” the king interrupted Nollan again, “we should learn from some of Eia’s good policies.”
“You have?”
“Teteum is bigger and has more resources, but most of our menials can’t read. They can’t afford hospital care. They can’t vote, either.”
“Our menials can
.” Nollan put up his head with pride. “When King Eckme abdicated, the League of Realms sent officials to Eia to help us set up a better governance system. Since then, LOR has been monitoring all our Endorsement Votes very closely. It’s the only reason Boggond bothers with a campaign and hasn’t simply canceled the upcoming vote.”
King Aviesto rubbed his eyebrow thoughtfully. “I did wonder why he hadn’t done that.”
“If he wins the Vote,” Nollan said, “I’m sure he’ll find a pretext to suspend the Endorsement system indefinitely.”
The king’s lip curled. “So that he can be Eia’s governor for life, eh?”
Nollan nodded then cocked his head. “If you are aware of the advantages of Eia’s system, sire, why don’t you introduce similar policies in your own realm?”
“My ministers and generals are opposed to that. They believe that healing and education should remain in private hands. They believe the tax money should fund the army and not be dispersed.”
“Unless there’s been a major change since my arrest,” Nollan said, “Teteum is still a monarchy, sire. What matters is what you believe. You rule the realm.”
King Aviesto gave him a weary look. “Do I?”
What does he expect me to say to that?
The king hooked his withered fingers for Nollan to move closer.
“Commander Gunder governs the realm, Professor Dreggo,” he whispered in Nollan’s ear. “Me? I’ve become a figurehead. I’ve let him turn me into a figurehead.”
Nollan surveyed the king. “Sire, I am sorry to hear that.”
“Not as sorry as I am.” King Aviesto’s head wobbled helplessly. “Teteum’s been overspending on military. We’re aware of Boggond’s plans for us. We know about the hive cyborgs he hired with the money he doesn’t have. Commander Gunder says he leaves us no choice but to be aggressive ourselves.”
“Forgive me my impertinence, sire.” Nollan looked the old man in the eye. “But Teteum hasn’t exactly been a lamb. It was you who invaded Eia five years ago—not the other way around.”
The king held Nollan’s gaze. “I’ve come to believe it was a mistake, Professor Dreggo. Perhaps the biggest I’ve made during my reign. My generals and the then-commander had convinced me that Eia would fall within days and the two realms would happily reunify into a single planet-realm under my rule.”
“Didn’t work out that way,” Nollan said, hoping he hadn’t sounded too sarcastic.
“No, it didn’t.” There was a long silence, during which the king’s head jiggled up and down again. “I’ll be honest. The future of my realm worries me. Our elite only care about status and money, our commander cares about war, and our superior vestal, about the Eternal Garden.”
“What do you care about, Your Royal Majesty?”
The king looked away.
Another long silence followed. Nollan ate an apple and poured himself a second cup of kawa. The monarch hadn’t touched his.
“What is your dream for Hente, Professor Dreggo?” King Aviesto finally asked, turning to him. “Not for Eia, but for our common world and for all the Ra-humans left on this planet after the Cataclysm?”
Nollan didn’t hesitate. “Eia and Teteum stopping the suicidal arms race and building true peace. Eventually, I believe they should come together into a federal realm and focus on a better use of the available resources.”
“With my descendants as rulers?” The king asked, leaning forward, his eyes bright.
“No.”
The monarch blinked, clearly taken aback by Nollan’s blunt response. “Then who?”
“Whoever the people choose as their governor in a joint Endorsement Vote.”
King Aviesto cackled. “Thinking of yourself, perchance, Professor? I see that a half year in prison hasn’t diminished your personal ambition.”
“Believe it or not, it was never a personal ambition,” Nollan said. “It was something Lord Sebi and I undertook as a last resort to save Eia from Boggond’s and Ultek’s clutches.”
“Well, Areg Sebi is dead now.”
“I know.”
“But, according to our spies, there’s now underground resistance in Eia.” The king sat back visibly savoring the dumbfounded look on Nollan’s face. “They broadcast Sebi’s recorded messages and continue to fight for your common cause.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in six months,” Nollan said, still struggling to wrap his mind around it. “Is it true, sire?”
The king gave him a why-would-I-lie look.
Nollan apologized for his outburst before adding, “In response to your earlier remark, sire, without Areg as my campaign mate, I wouldn’t stand a chance. I’m well aware that for most, I’m too academic, too stuffy, too… well… boring.”
“Then who do you see as both worthy and having a chance to win the vote?”
Nollan spread his hands. “There are many good people in both realms, Your Royal Majesty.”
“It’s an empty dream.” The king sounded peeved. “Teteum is a monarchy, as you said yourself, and I am its king. My oldest son will rule it when I die. That’s the reality, Professor.”
Nollan inclined his head. “You asked me to tell you about my dream, sire. Not about reality.”
The king said nothing.
Neither of them spoke for a few minutes.
Nollan regretted his frankness, realizing its implications with respect to his access to kawa.
The king drew in a breath once, twice, as if he wished to say something but then changed his mind. In the end, he gave a frustrated grunt and heaved himself to his feet. “Farewell, Professor Dreggo.”
His bodyguards rushed to open the door for him.
Nollan bowed deeply. “Farewell, Your Royal Majesty.”
And farewell, kawa.
Nine
Wonderstruck. If there was a word that could convey Haysi’s mental state over the last three hours, it was that.
The first wave of awe had engulfed her when they reached the spaceport and she spied a sleek, unexpectedly compact spaceship. Iyatt referred to it as “transport.” The next one came hot on its heels after they boarded the transport, said hi to the coachman—err… pilot—strapped themselves in, and barreled into the sky.
Their takeoff had been as unceremonious as a commuter coach between Iltaqa and Orogate. But then the spacecraft began to shake.
Haysi shot Iyatt a panicked look.
He smiled reassuringly. “It’ll cease in a moment.”
And it did.
“We’re in interplanetary space now,” the pilot’s voice came from the ceiling.
“See the speaker?” Iyatt pointed to a small fixture overhead.
“Oh, I see. It’s like a commlet.”
“Exactly.” He stretched his legs and leaned back in his seat.
Pressing her forehead to the metal-rimmed window Iyatt called a “viewport,” Haysi gaped at the star-studded vastness of space.
Sweet Goddess, the beauty…
Then came the “jump.”
“You’ll feel a tug, and perhaps a bit of queasiness,” Iyatt said. “But it won’t last long.”
He went on to explain how modern spacecrafts covered huge distances in minutes. They distorted “space-time” and shifted dimensions or, put differently, leaped in and out of “hyperspace.” Haysi listened, doing her best to grasp the principle. But it was so wildly different from the way she’d traveled on the ground that most of what he was saying just went over her head.
There was another reason Haysi found it hard to stay focused on Iyatt’s technical explanations.
That reason was Iyatt himself. His deep voice seemed to envelop her as he spoke. His handsome face drew her gaze. His large hands as he gestured made her mind wander off right back to the first reading she’d done for him. The one during which she’d let Unie in but remained present, an observer pushed to the sidelines of her own body. An observer who heard everything, saw everything, felt everything.
When Iyatt had pull
ed her to his chest while those gorgeous hands of his stroked her soothingly, she’d kept telling herself it was for Unie, not her. It was Unie he held in his arms so tenderly and protectively. It was Unie he comforted. It was Unie he admired and loved.
Me? He despises me.
She’d seen how different his gaze could be when he looked into her eyes, addressing Unie. Not one of Haysi’s ex-lovers, not even the two or three she’d been enamored with, had ever looked at her or held her like that. She’d been desired plenty. It had been pleasant. She’d thought it was the best she could expect from a man.
But now…
If there was a man out there who’d treat her with that kind of reverence, she wanted him in her life. He could be rich or poor, gorgeous or average. It didn’t matter. Haysi would do anything for him. Absolutely anything.
Iyatt stopped talking and gave her a long, searching look as if trying to figure her out. “Remind me again why you wanted to meet Chief Ultek?”
“To try and secure his support for a cause.”
“What cause?”
“Repealing the Pox Bill.”
He scrunched up his face. “Er… Is that something recent?”
She couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Some of her friends had died because of it in a way no Ra-human deserved to die, in isolation and filth. And this man hadn’t even heard about it. He knew so much about hyperspace hopping and whatnot, but he had no clue what the Pox Bill was.
On some level, Haysi realized she wasn’t being fair.
Iyatt lived a clean, purposeful life, far removed from her world, from harlots and their problems. Still, inexplicably, his ignorance on the subject she cared so deeply about stung. A lot.
“The Pox Bill was passed three months ago,” she said. “It’s the most unjust thing Caretaker Governor Boggond has done since he took office.”
Something like sarcasm flickered in Iyatt’s eyes. “And you’re hoping Chief Ultek will help you fight it?”
“I’m hoping to sway him, yes.”
“By what means, may I ask?”
She gave him a defiant look. “By whatever means necessary.”
