C f bentley, p.38
C. F. Bentley, page 38
“You are more than just a bodyguard. You should not know anything about politics unless you are much better educated than your rank and your resume suggest.”
Jake went cold. He wasn’t ready to be unmasked. A couple more days. All he needed was a couple more days to push Sissy in the direction of responding to the CSS offer of peace and trade. Troops and ships to protect their borders in exchange for Badger Metal. Then he could order a fast extraction from Pammy. Only then.
“You are General Armstrong da Beaure’s top aide sent to spy on us, aren’t you?” Gregor let his voice carry.
“Believe what you want.” Jake hid his sigh of relief. Then he shrugged at the corporal. The HP didn’t understand the chain of command among the Military. He’d just ensured that the squad would obey Jake and not Gregor.
“I found the man responsible for the attacks on the HPS. I delivered him to Law Enforcement HQ H Prime, as I was directed. Not my fault if he’s telling everyone why he did it, who paid him, and how much.”
“But you did it with hover cams following you and Sergeant Morrie da Hawk pa Capital Law Enforcement HQ H Prime talking all the way. Everyone in the empire now believes Lady Marissa responsible.”
“She is responsible and should answer to the law, just like everyone else.”
That made the squad a little uneasy. They whispered among themselves.
“But Lady Marissa is above the law. She is Noble and a member of the HC. Such people… “
“That’s just it, she’s a person, no better, no worse than any other person in the empire. She should be subject to the law and made to pay the penalty for murder just like a Worker, or a Spacer, or Military, or even Professional.” The Poor didn’t count. They got blamed for everything and tromped on by the law all over the galaxy.
“That is blasphemy and treason. Arrest this man!”
“Show me where it is blasphemy. Show me in the Covenant,” Jake said in his most commanding voice. He gave a silent hand signal for the corporal to keep his men where they were. He almost stood. He wanted to lay the sharp Badger Metal blade across Gregor’s throat, show the man that he was as vulnerable to bleeding as any person in the empire. The sharp pain running from his hip to his ankle kept him in place.
Upon reflection, staying seated was the better option, show the arrogant bastard a bit of disrespect.
“Your services as bodyguard are no longer necessary,” Gregor sneered. “Get back to your unit. These men will escort you.”
“Is Lady Marissa out of the equation?”
“We know what she did and why she did it. She won’t try again.”
“Yes, she will. She answers to no one but her own twisted grief that justifies any action in her mind. I’m not leaving until Laudae Sissy dismisses me.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “She’s not likely to do that unless and until her hearing returns.”
“Hearing? What is this? I was told she was unharmed.” Gregor kept his voice equally quiet.
“On the outside. The physicians tell me it’s probably temporary. She’s so tuned into the vibrations of Harmony that the explosion disrupted her hearing. Might be temporary. Might not.”
“Then how is she conducting grief blessings? That ritual requires a near constant blend of harmonies from the crystals.”
“Vibrations. She might not be able to hear the crystals, but she can feel them. She and her girls know what vibrations blend and which ones repel each other. That’s how she tells when someone lies.”
“I’m going to tell her who you really are. She’ll never trust you again.” Gregor made to enter the little Temple.
“She can’t hear you.” Jake stuck out his arm to block the way. “So you’ll have to write it down. Considering how many lies you’ve told her, what makes you think she’ll believe your written word?” Jake cocked an eyebrow. He should be enjoying this. But he wasn’t. He hurt too much physically and mentally. The cancer of this society made him sick to his stomach. He’d call Pammy for an immediate abort if it weren’t for Sissy.
He could no more desert her now than he could cut out his own tongue.
“What will it take to remove your irritating presence from the Crystal Temple?”
“Bring Lady Marissa to justice.” “You know there is no way… “
“Then make a way. Bring the empire back to the true path of Harmony.” Not that they’d been on that path since they’d slaughtered the original inhabitants.
“I am High Priest. I think I know the true path better than you.” Gregor insisted.
Again that uneasy shifting among the squad. They weren’t used to thinking.
“Open the High Altar and prove it. Show all of Harmony the original Covenant.”
A long silence that stretched until the constant mournful chiming in the background suddenly ceased. It had been so incessant Jake had forgotten it.
“You only think you know better. You’ve deluded yourself into thinking that what is best for Gregor has to be best for Harmony. Time to open your eyes, My Laud. And your heart.”
The doors behind Jake flung open. He turned his head, even as his hand tightened on his dagger.
Sissy stood there in borrowed black robes and headdress. Her six remaining girls and her youngest brother and sister ranged behind her. She checked to make sure the hover cam at the corner of the building caught her every movement and word. Then she removed the crystal veil.
The squad all bowed deeply from the waist. Jake ducked his head.
“My Laud Gregor,” she said in a curiously flat voice. Over loud, as if she might hear herself if she shouted. “I am going back to the burial caves. I hereby close all Temples throughout Harmony and her empire to all rituals except funerals and grief blessings. I hereby close the High Council.” She retreated two steps and slammed the doors closed again.
Half a heartbeat later she reopened them. “You.” She pointed to the corporal. “Take your men and seal the High Council Chamber. Do as you and your commander see fit to make sure no one enters. No business. Until I say otherwise.”
The squad bowed deeply again and took off at a jog trot.
Sissy disappeared, slamming the doors once more.
“You can’t disrupt the lives of everyone in the empire like that!” Gregor shouted.
“Guess I’d better start packing. Not that I have anything to pack after the fire.” Jake yawned and stretched. “My Laud Gregor, think about what will convince Laudae Sissy, High Priestess of Harmony to reopen the government and the religion it revolves around.”
Chapter 58
“It’s all your fault!” Lady Marissa screeched outside the HC Chamber. “It’s all gone wrong because of you, Laud Gregor.” She pounded her fists on the chair arms where she slouched like a rag doll that had been left in the rain and faded in sunshine. Her white hair looked thin, unwashed, and stood out from her face in an untidy fuzz. And her eyes darted from shadow to shadow, never truly focusing on the here and now.
For the first time in months Penelope did not stand at her right shoulder. That place belonged to her two sons now. Both of them stood five respectful—and very separate—paces behind her.
Why had Gregor never before noticed the dark circles under Marissa’s eyes, the hollowness of her cheeks, and the twitching in her posture?
Gregor turned his attention back to the Professional caste woman who worked swiftly and efficiently installing locks on all the doors of the HC Chamber. Two well-armed men stood between him and the locksmith. They made Jake look naked of weapons in comparison.
And they carried Spacer issue energy weapons.
He shuddered at the breakdown of civilization caused by one willful little girl. Sissy.
“This action is totally uncalled for,” Gregor said in as reasonable a tone as he could muster.
“My orders come directly from My Laudae Sissy,” the locksmith muttered. “So do theirs.” She jerked her head to indicate the Military men and women who stood at every door and window of the chamber.
“As High Priest of Harmony and Chairman of the High Council, I hereby override the Laudae’s orders.” He puffed out his chest and fixed a malevolent gaze upon them all.
“Sorry, My Laud, the Covenant says our HPS tops you on the HC and in the Temple,” the sergeant with the big gun said. His face remained tight and blank. He refused to look Gregor in the eye.
The guards changed every two hours. New men every shift. No chance of one of them developing a trusting relationship with a Temple or Noble who might take advantage of them.
The locksmith dusted sawdust from around the shiny new lock. She handed the key to the sergeant. “That opens all five locks. It goes to your colonel. No one of lesser rank. There are no duplicates.” She returned her tools to her belt pack.
Then she turned her attention to Gregor. “That will be fifty credits. Cash. No banks are open to take a check.” She held out her hand.
“I don’t carry cash,” Gregor sniffed, affronted. “I did not authorize this work. Nor do I approve it. Go to Laudae Sissy and her pet lieutenant if you want payment.” He turned his back on her.
“Then I’ll take the key directly to the colonel myself. He’ll probably double the guard and make a dead zone one hundred yards wide that no one can cross. I understand he’s also taken control of three electronic listening posts within the Crystal Temple.”
Gregor heard her chuckle as her steps retreated.
“All your fault, Gregor,” Marissa repeated. “You killed my sister. You raised a Lood to replace her. Now everything is chaos. No government. No Temple. Nothing. Riots in the streets. No one has authority to quell them. Looting, burning, murders, rape! All your fault.”
The conditions in the streets weren’t quite that bad. One young man had thrown rocks at the Military squads still patrolling. He’d been arrested on the spot. Three cases of crowds breaking into a store and stealing expensive electronics. The store owner had stabbed a Worker in self-defense. Another crowd besieged a power plant demanding an end to electrical rationing.
The “rape” had been a middle-aged couple, each married to a different person, caught nude in the park after dark. The act became rape because she was Military and he Professional.
Bad enough. Harmony had been peaceful until this year. Harmonious. The people and the planet at one with each other.
“This never would have happened if Marilee had lived. We had no problems while she was Harmony’s Avatar,” Marissa pouted.
“We had the same problems. The same crimes. Every day. But the media didn’t have hover cams everywhere, recording every incident, broadcasting them live without Temple editing and approval,” Gregor replied. “They’ve been acting like a separate caste for years. Now they are more blatant about it.”
He drew breath and continued. “Marilee was a mindless twit. She couldn’t make a decision if her life depended upon it. In fact that is what cost her her life. She stood beside a rocking pillar in the forecourt. She could not decide if she should run inside or toward the High Altar. Either course would have been safer. No, she had to stand there and let that pillar collapse onto her.”
“That is why she made such a good High Priestess. She let you and me make her decisions for her. Penelope will be just as effective for us. All we have to do is get rid of that Lood troublemaker.” Marissa’s eyes took on a cunning look. The same look she assumed just before she tried to manipulate the HC into something beneficial to her, no matter how many people it hurt.
Like the time she wanted the HC to reimburse her from tax revenues for a statue of herself she’d erected at each of her factories. Or the time she ordered her fleet of ships to cease trade with the Southern Continent until the HC lifted port duties on cargoes of household appliances. She had a monopoly on that trade as well.
“Believe it or not, Marissa, Sissy is the best HPS we’ve had in three generations. The natural disasters have lessened considerably since her ordination. No other HPS has been able to do that.”
“I know precisely how to eliminate her,” Marissa continued. She either hadn’t heard him, or had chosen not to hear him.
“I intend to put an end to this. Guilliam!” he shouted for his assistant. “Guilliam, get back to work. You’ve sulked long enough.”
Sissy sat cross-legged on the floor of the mural cavern. Two dozen candles burned straight and steady. Not a whisper of a breeze to disturb them.
She had no idea of the time. Midnight and noon made no difference this deep inside Harmony’s womb. She felt as if the world held its breath, waiting to see if Empathy would rise again in the morning.
No one entered this cave without her permission now. If anyone watched over her, they did it from a distance. Even Jake.
He seemed strange and altered lately. Distant and grim.
Maybe she was the one who was altered. She found no solace from her grief. Here, at least, she felt close to her dead family, as if someday she could reunite with them when she, too, was nothing but planetary dust.
The colors on the mural alternately faded and jumped into focus and she allowed her eyes to wander randomly over the scattered images. Big here, little there. Very important and filler information, she decided.
“Speak to me, Harmony. Tell me what I need to know,” she whispered. Or shouted. She couldn’t tell anymore. Even the cave winds were silent.
Then a wisp of air stirred around her. The walls seemed to vibrate in a disturbing counterpoint to the clanging in her head. Her head was out of tune and out of rhythm with Harmony. The constant ringing behind her ears clashed with her perceptions. It pulsed, but not with her heartbeat.
She closed her eyes, trying desperately to understand this odd silence that was so loud.
Three deep breaths. She listened to her head until she could almost hear the whispers of many long-dead voices.
Then she opened her eyes. The center of the mural jumped out at her, the other images around it receded in a tight spiral.
Sissy stood and touched the picture of Harmony standing with her winglike sleeves stretched away from her body, as if gathering her people to her. Dozens of birds flew around her. But they weren’t birds. They were people with wings. Marils.
This was the beginning of the mural’s story.
Then Sissy followed the narrative around the spiral. When she came to the final group of figures in the far corner, the one that had been altered, she wept.
“I am so sorry, Harmony. How could we do this to ourselves. How could we do this to them, and to you?”
Jake followed Sissy’s finger as she pointed out the path of the unreadable mural. “I knew you’d figure it out.”
If she understood the mural, then she undoubtedly had grasped more of human history on Harmony than most of Her residents.
He didn’t need to examine the images closely. He knew the story. The great grief of Harmony as her people and the newcomers lost understanding of each other’s religion, grew suspicious of each other, blamed each other for the cyclic instability of the planet.
“When did the caste system begin?” Sissy asked in her flat voice. She looked directly at him, demanding.
Jake shrugged, knowing the explanation was too long and complex for writing on the tablet he carried with him.
She continued to stare, unflinching.
Nothing for it. He had to try. No chance of taking her back to the Crystal Temple archives and letting her read that very disturbing journal. He picked a group of images near the end. “Here.”
“Long after humans came to Harmony.” She filled in the pieces he didn’t know how to explain to her.
“Two hundred years,” he said as he wrote the figure on the tablet. He always spoke, hoping against hope that her hearing would return unexpectedly.
If she caught any of his words, she never gave any indication.
“After we killed all the Marils: holy people who sought understanding of the universe in prayer and meditation,” she stated.
Jake nodded and erased the tablet with a soft cloth, waiting for her next question.
“Why?”
Good one. He pointed to the next group of images showing a funeral procession of humans carrying humans. “Too many dead. Need more people.” Ten thousand settlers reduced to less than one thousand. They’d endured disasters, famine, the resulting plagues. Those that remained were weak and disheartened.
They barely had enough people left to do the work of continued survival. Many generations would have to pass before they could resume something akin to the industrialized civilization they aspired to.
She tapped her foot impatiently. “How?”
He hoped she’d understand the science. “Frozen embryos on mother ship. Livestock and people.” They’d also cannibalized the mother ship for building materials, and equipment, crashing it into the desert for easier retrieval.
Sissy started pacing. As restlessly as he usually did. All he could do was stand and wait.
“The survivors became Temple and Noble,” she said.
Jake nodded. A ruling elite over the lesser mortals they created.
She stopped short in her circles of the room. “Mothers? How did they make the babies?”
“Artificial wombs,” he wrote and said.
A look of disgust crossed Sissy’s face. She touched a skeleton reverently. “Unnatural.”
Jake nodded. He didn’t need to fake his own disgust. With improvements in hyperspace drives and faster travel, new settlement ships had forsaken generation ships and human embryos. However, they still used them for livestock as animals didn’t travel well.
Most of the CSS had outlawed the practice of artificial wombs.
“The caste system is unnatural.” Sissy’s head reared up and her eyes grew wide. “The survivors manipulated the embryos!”
A controlled environment where they could introduce the caste marks by manipulating the gills present in every fetus in the earliest days of development.
