by I. T. Lucas
She chuckled. “Are all humans so overly concerned with swollen ankles?”
“What do you mean?”
“You want me to put my feet up. Isn’t that done to relieve pressure from the lower extremities?”
“I just want you to relax. Your ankles are perfect.”
“Syssi didn’t want to be on stage, so she made every excuse possible for why she shouldn’t be there, including invoking nonexistent swollen ankles that would make it hard for her to stand for a long time. She forgot that immortal females don’t suffer human pregnancy issues.”
“That’s funny. How did you manage to convince her?”
“I didn’t. Kian did. He said that their daughter would one day watch the signing of the accord, and that she should see both her mother and her father participating in the ceremony.”
“That’s a good one.”
“It is. Syssi, Amanda, Jacki, and Alena will be part of Annani’s retinue and serve as witnesses. I need to find a good excuse for you to be there as well.”
He shook his head. “That’s really inappropriate. I have no part in the accord, and it would just offend people who should be there. You said that Kalugal’s second-in-command and the clan’s judge were instrumental in making this happen. They should be up on the stage. Not me.”
Regrettably, he was right, and Sari couldn’t think of a good excuse for him to be there in any capacity other than that of a microphone holder or water bearer, and that wouldn’t do, either.
“After the document is signed, I’ll call Rufsur and Edna to the stage and thank them for orchestrating the accord.”
“Good plan. Besides, even if I had a reason to be on stage, I don’t have a proper suit to wear. I’d rather hide somewhere in the back.”
“No way. I’m going to seat you in the front row. None of my people had anything to do with the agreement, so no one will get their feelings hurt by that.”
“It’s a deal. I can sit next to Anandur. He’s getting a front-row seat as well, right?”
“Definitely. He and Brundar are not only Kian’s bodyguards but also his best friends. He will want them there. I’m having Miranda and my other assistants sit in the front row as well.”
“What about your butler?”
“Ojidu?”
“Do you have a different one?”
“No, just Ojidu.” She laughed. “Why would I have him seated in the front row?”
“I have a feeling that I’m missing a piece of a puzzle here. What’s the deal with your butler and his clones? Why do they look older than the other immortals? Are they a different species?”
“You could say so. The simple explanation is that they are a sort of cyborg. They are very advanced and indestructible.”
David’s eyes widened. “Your clan makes them? That’s amazing.”
“We don’t make them. They are an ancient relic. Annani’s future husband gave them to her as a betrothal present. They were an ancient relic even then. Annani hinted to Kian that they were from the gods’ home world. The speculation is that even though they’d been designed as domestic helpers, they’d been used in warfare. The theory is that they must have gotten dismantled or decommissioned in some other fashion, but the owner of these seven wanted to save them and sent them to earth instead.”
“Fascinating. What can they do?”
“They can learn to do anything you teach them, but they are not capable of independent thinking or decision making beyond the very basic. Everything has to be programmed.”
“How do you program them?”
“They need to be told in plain words what to do and in what circumstances, but they will only obey their master.”
“Ojidu calls me master, but he doesn’t obey me. I asked him why he looks older than other immortals, and he refused to answer. He said to ask you.”
“He’s not allowed to talk about us, himself, or his brothers to humans. And you are still a human. Besides, he probably doesn’t know the answer to that.”
“Interesting. Are you his mistress? Or is it your mother?”
“Originally, it was my mother. But when she gifted each of us an Odu, she transferred their ownership to us. Ojidu obeys me, not my mother.” She chuckled. “Well, that’s not entirely true. She left basic instructions that we cannot override, like her prohibition of using foul language, or that an Odu could never harm a clan member even under direct orders from us.”
“Is talking to humans part of her base instructions that cannot be overridden?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Can you instruct Ojidu to answer my questions? I’m curious about him and his origins.”
“He and the others don’t remember where they came from. Their memories were wiped either by their original owner or by Khiann’s father, who found them wandering in the desert.”
“Nevertheless, I would like to talk to him.” He smiled. “He will be the first cyborg I ever psychoanalyze.”
“You will find that his appearance is misleading. He’s like a sophisticated parrot or a monkey. He can mimic human behavior and mannerisms perfectly, but he has no personality of his own or feelings.”
“That can’t be true. I observed the others, and there were slight differences in their behavior and countenance.”
“That’s because each of them mimicked different humans and got different instructions from their master or mistress. Trust me, it’s all mimicry. I’ve lived with Ojidu my entire life. I know what he’s capable of and what he’s not.”
60
David
David sat in the first row of the large assembly hall, flanked by Anandur and the clan’s judge. Their group was the first to arrive, and since the main entrance was at the front, he could watch people coming in and taking their seats.
He’d gotten several curious glances, but so far, no one had given him dirty looks for appropriating a seat of honor that should have gone to someone else.
Did everyone already know that he was Sari’s guy?
Her community wasn’t large, only about two hundred members strong, so it probably didn’t take long for rumors to spread.
It was a strange feeling. Usually, he was the known figure, and the women he’d dated less so. The few faculty members he’d hooked up with over the years might have enjoyed an equal or greater status, but for the most part, they had preferred to keep it quiet.
It was the first time that he had been the known paramour of a prominent woman and stood in her shadow.
David had never thought of himself as overly prideful or chauvinistic, but still, his relationship with Sari would demand sacrifices and adjustments that would alter his life completely.
Was he ready to quit his job and come live with her full time in the castle?
If he turned immortal, he wouldn’t be able to stay in Stanford for more than a decade without people noticing that he wasn’t aging, but he could accomplish a lot in that time. He’d worked hard to get where he was, and giving it all up didn’t appeal to him in the least.
Could he become a full-time author?
That had been his plan for retirement, but as an immortal, he wouldn’t need to slow down. He could go on working forever and make amazing breakthroughs, just without getting credit for it. He could continue his research independently, but the problem with that was financing it. He didn’t have the resources to fund it, and his area of expertise was of no interest to Sari’s clan, so they had no reason to fund his research either.
Even if Sari offered it, he would refuse. He wasn’t about to become a kept lover whose research got the clan’s support just because he was Sari’s mate.
As he saw it, he had two choices. He could find out what type of research would be beneficial to the clan and do that, or he could become a full-time writer and hope to make enough money selling books to at least pay his keep.
But all of that was premature, and although Sari claimed that the main obstacle in their relationship was fear, that wasn’t entirely true. He still had to transi
tion, and if he did, his relationship with Sari needed to stand the test of time. Luckily, he was on a sabbatical, so there was no rush. He could let this incredible fantasy unfold and watch where it took him.
When everyone who was supposed to be in the assembly hall was accounted for, Miranda closed the doors, and someone turned on the three large screens at the back of the stage.
There was a definite sense of excitement as people waited for the ceremony to begin, and when Sari walked up onto the stage, everyone erupted in applause.
He must have clapped the loudest. She looked magnificent in her form-fitting blue dress, her auburn hair cascading in large curls down her back, and her eyes blazing with excitement.
Sari lifted her hand. “Good evening.” As everyone hushed down, those sitting in the assembly hall and those on the screens who were watching the event broadcast live, she cast him a quick smile.
When it was quiet, she addressed her people. “I want to thank Kian and Kalugal for coming. My community and I are deeply honored to host this historic event. For the first time since immortals split into two opposing camps, we are coming together and joining forces to provide a better future for our peoples. Perhaps peace with Navuh is impossible, but it has been achieved with his son.”
As clapping and cheering erupted again, Sari waited patiently for it to subside. “Still, I dare to hope that this is just the beginning, and that this accord heralds the end of the millennia-old conflict between Annani’s descendants and the brotherhood of the Devout Order Of Mortdh.”
This time the clapping was more subdued.
Apparently, most clan members didn’t believe that was possible. The same was true of Kalugal’s men who were watching the event from California. Nearly no one over there clapped.
From what Sari had told him, Kalugal’s father had been brainwashing his multitude of immortal warriors and also compelling their loyalty. Fortunately for his sons, both were immune to his mind control, and that was why they could cooperate with the clan.
For some reason, even the goddess’s immense power couldn’t override Navuh’s compulsion, so until a different solution was found, there was no way to turn his warriors against him.
Perhaps there was something David could do about that?
That was an interesting thought. He could switch the focus of his research from post-traumatic stress disorder to cult brainwashing. He had always been fascinated by the power cult leaders had over their followers, but because it was such a fringe phenomenon, there was no funding for researching the subject. Furthermore, the general consensus in academia was that the victims were responsible for their actions and that there was no such thing as brainwashing.
Sometimes David was baffled by his colleagues. They should know better.
When an otherwise normal person commits horrific acts in the name of his or her leader, something has gone wrong, and it was the psychological community’s responsibility to investigate it instead of blaming everything on the victim.
But unless he sank his teeth into it with proper research that involved testing, experimenting, and maybe even brain imaging, he couldn’t refute those claims.
Perhaps it was something that the clan would be willing to invest in?
61
Sari
It wasn’t a big surprise that many of her people were not optimistic regarding the prospect of peace with the Doomers. The truth was that Sari wasn’t overly hopeful either, but no one had a crystal ball into the future, and life was full of surprises.
A few months ago, no one would have believed that Navuh’s son and his men would be joining Kian’s community, or that a full cooperation agreement between him and the clan was possible.
The applause resumed with more enthusiasm as Kian entered the stage with Syssi from one side, and Kalugal with Jacki from the other.
Kian and Kalugal took their seats at the table, while Jacki and Syssi sat on two of the armchairs that had been set up in a row behind the table, leaving the middle one for Annani.
Next, Alena and Amanda entered. The crowd clapped and cheered, but once all the participants were seated, people quieted down in anticipation of Annani’s grand entrance.
And grand it was.
Dressed in a white satin gown with long bell sleeves, Annani looked like an angel as she glided onto the stage with the practiced ease of a seasoned performer.
“My people.” She lifted her arms to the sides, the long sleeves creating the illusion of wings. “This accord has been months in the making, but I am overjoyed to report that the points of contention have been few and insignificant, and the spirit of cooperation has been strong. There are no losers here today. Only winners.”
As those in the assembly hall started clapping, they were joined by the spectators from the other three centers.
Smiling benevolently, Annani waited for the cheering to subside. “I would like to thank the main players who have brought this accord to fruition.” She pointed at the front row. “Edna and Rufsur, please rise and come up here.”
That hadn’t been part of the plan. Sari was supposed to thank them after the signing and ask them to take a bow without climbing to the stage.
It was just like her mother to improvise and mess with everyone’s careful plans, or perhaps improve on them. Annani had incredible instincts, and she was a natural master of ceremonies. If she felt that this was the right time to thank Edna and Rufsur, then it probably was.
When the two climbed the stairs and approached the goddess, she pulled Edna into her arms first, kissed her on both cheeks, and then did the same to Rufsur.
“As an acknowledgment of your contribution to this accord, I present you with a personal thank-you letter signed by my own hand.” She pulled out two small scrolls from a hidden pocket in her gown.
“Thank you, Clan Mother.” Edna bowed as Annani handed her the scroll.
Rufsur did the same and then clutched it to his chest. “Can I frame it and hang it on the wall?”
Annani laughed. “Of course. I am counting on it.” She motioned for them to step back down. “And now, to the main event.” She glanced at the screens behind her. “Since almost the entire clan and most of Kalugal’s men are watching, we can go ahead and fulfill the spirit of the accord as we read it. Those in charge of security at the four respective locations, as well as those working on the after-signing party, will have to make their pledges after the ceremony.”
That too wasn’t part of the plan, but Sari didn’t object. All it meant was that the ceremony would take much longer than she’d expected, and that the celebratory feast would have to be reheated.
Annani lifted the rolled-up parchment from the table and unfurled it. “Are you ready?”
Hundreds of voices answered with a resounding, “Yes!”
“Then let us start with the signing.” She put the long document down on the table. “Kian, you go first.”
Rising to his feet, Kian pulled out a silver pen from his suit pocket and lifted it for everyone to see. “We are all going to use the same pen and then store it together with this document for posterity.” He bent down and signed his name on the parchment.
The overhead camera zoomed in, and as his signature appeared on all three screens, the crowd erupted in cheers.
“Sari, you are next.” Kian handed her the pen.
She’d read the accord agreement so many times that she could recite it from memory, so there was no reason to read it again, and she scribbled her best signature with as much flourish as she could muster.
“Your turn, Kalugal.” She handed the pen to her cousin.
Grinning, he took it and turned to Kian. “And here I thought that you trusted me. Were you afraid that if I used my own pen, it would be filled with vanishing ink?”
Everyone in the audience laughed.
Kian shrugged. “This pen has ink that is specifically formulated for writing on parchment and not to fade for hundreds of years. But you are welcome to use your own.”
; Kalugal shook his head. “I love you like a brother, Kian, but you need to work on your sense of humor.” He bent down and signed his name on the parchment.
As people in all four centers rose to their feet and started clapping and cheering, the noise became deafening, but Kalugal’s words still reverberated in Sari’s ears.
Did he mean it? Did he really love Kian like a brother?
Long moments later, when the noise finally subsided and the audience sat back down, Annani lifted her luminous arms.
“It is done. Kalugal’s community is now officially a semi-independent group within the clan. Those of his men who form mated bonds with clan members will have the option of becoming full-fledged members. Furthermore, once children are born from these unions, they will naturally belong to the clan.”
It was clear to all that the independent status was temporary, and that in a few decades or centuries, the boundaries between their people would cease to exist.
Kalugal was well aware of that, and yet, he’d agreed to sign the accord because it was the right thing to do for his people.
Despite his lineage, her cousin was a good man. Complicated, brilliant, and secretive, but not evil like his father.
There was no doubt in Sari’s mind that the future of her clan was going to be brighter thanks to Kalugal and his people taking an active role in it.
62
David
When the document was signed, and the goddess lifted her arms once again to silence the applause, David couldn’t help but feel awed.
She radiated power, but it wasn’t oppressive or terrifying. It was warm and comforting. He’d never been a religious man, and he’d never worshiped a deity or prayed for guidance or anything else, but the way the goddess made him feel could only be described as worshipful.
Was it misleading?
Was she compelling him and everyone else watching her to feel that way?
Could she turn into a terrifying goddess of wrath when provoked?
