by M D Cooper
“That would be ideal,” Pharis said, “but how?”
Cyrus smiled with a spark in his eyes. “By painting her as the traitor she is.”
“Again, how?” she pressed.
“By investigating those Trias Stellas shipments. She had been arranging weapons shipments of her own accord, correct?”
Pharis nodded slowly, beginning to see where her brother was going with the plan. “Yes, as far as I know, Mother didn’t know anything about that, either. It could be argued that she fell in love and pursued a relationship with Silvan out of passion, but it would be quite another to have been making preparations for a war without any discussion.”
“Precisely! And as the house scion, your first duty is to your people. War clearly has implications for the general population, so your responsibilities would dictate that you thoroughly investigate any matters considering a potential armed conflict.”
“And those weapon shipments moved through the port…”
He grinned. “Now you’ve got it.”
“Okay, yes, that does offer a good cover story for taking a visit down there. But how do I explain why I waited until now to launch that investigation, rather than when I first learned that Jeslan had been arranging the shipments?”
“An audit of the shipment records, perhaps?” he offered. “Those investigations do take time.”
“I did that weeks ago. She covered her tracks well.”
“We could uncover them.”
“I don’t know how to make those kinds of manifest modifications.”
Cyrus chuckled. “Oh, dear sister, don’t forget how I’ve made a living these past several years.”
“Believe me, I haven’t.”
“Then you should know it won’t be a problem.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay, arrange the meeting at the port. I’ll be there.”
LET’S TRY THIS AGAIN
STELLAR DATE: 12.23.8938 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Charlemis Estate Port, Gallas, Serenity System
REGION: Orion Freedom Alliance, Perseus Arm
“I’m glad she agreed,” Terry said to Cyrus as they waited for Pharis’s arrival at the port situated at the outskirts of the Charlemis estate.
“Me too. It was a stroke of genius to suggest it.”
“I don’t know about that, but I do think it’s our best shot, and it’s encouraging that she sees it that way.”
Terry had only had a brief video call with Pharis following the events on the Perseus, so she hadn’t been able to get a good feel for the other woman yet. The interaction had been pleasant enough, but she also got the impression that the woman had the characteristic sense of entitlement that all highborns possessed. Still, since Cyrus vouched for her good heart and positive intentions, Terry was willing to give Pharis the benefit of the doubt.
They’d set the meeting with the dockworkers to correspond with the evening meal. Terry’s friends had been contacted to serve as escorts for Pharis as part of a covert investigation that needed to be undertaken in-person by the scion herself, which would explain Pharis’s presence. What most parties involved didn’t realize was that Pharis was going to veer from the planned tour and inspection of the shipping records to meet with the workers in the mess hall.
Never had a highborn stepped foot into the depths of the workers’ area, as far as anyone knew. Pharis and Cyrus’s visit would be unprecedented.
Terry tapped her foot as a release for her pent-up nerves. It was her plan, so if it didn’t work, it would be on her.
“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor,” Cyrus said.
“Sorry. I hate all of this waiting.”
He checked the time. “Yeah, she’s late.”
“We’re going to miss the lunch break if she’s delayed much longer. Is it normal for her to be tardy?”
“Depends on the situation. I’ve never seen her be late to an event featuring scantily clad potential bedmates, but she’s been less than enthusiastic about attending political meetings in the past.”
“I hope she’s ready to warm up to the idea, considering your aspirations for her.”
He frowned. “Yeah, she seemed all for it when we spoke—”
He cut off at the sound of the door opening.
Dylan ran inside. “We have a problem,” he said through panting breaths.
Cyrus jumped to attention. “What’s wrong?”
“Lady Justina must have found out Pharis was coming. The Guard has been sent for her.”
* * * * *
Pharis sensed something was wrong the moment she exited the passageway leading to the underground port. She’d taken the underground tunnels from the manor, which were typically used by workers and for supply restocking. Of course, as the house scion, she had been instructed in how to access the passageways because of their application as an emergency egress.
In her youth, when she was first given the tour, she’d found the dimly lit corridors to be spooky. Exposed concrete, rough metal grating, exposed conduits. The environment lacked all of the fine finishes she was used to in every other aspect of her life.
Now, she looked upon the tunnels with a new appreciation of how others lived. They roamed beneath the lush landscape on the surface, keeping her little corner of civilization moving while rarely even seeing the light of day.
It made her feel bad for having judged the place poorly.
The workers were in their element here, and Pharis was the outsider. She’d tried to dress in something less showy, but her black skinsuit was still a stark contrast to the gray jumpsuits worn by maintenance workers. She’d felt their eyes on her while she made the trek, and the stares had intensified the closer she got to her destination. By the time she was at the exit to the port’s underground parking bay, it was clear she was being watched.
“My lady, you shouldn’t be here,” one of the workers said at last. Her jumpsuit was marked with an insignia identifying her as a team lead.
The worker’s staff stood behind her, wringing their hands and keeping their gazes downcast, seemingly in fear of looking too intently at Pharis.
“On the contrary, this is where I should have been focusing more of my attention all along,” Pharis replied with a smile.
The workers exchanged worried glances.
“Please, Lady Justina was clear in her instructions,” the worker tried again.
Oh, so now Mother is trying to restrict my movements? Pharis sighed. “She may be the leader of this house, but that doesn’t give her the right to dictate how I govern. I would like to spend time among my people. That’s why I’m here.”
The nervous energy that had been present since she arrived continued to intensify.
“She said you might say that,” the worker whispered.
“Lady Pharis!” a warm, bass voice called out behind Pharis’s back.
She swung around to see a contingent of Gallas Guard approaching. At the head of the group was a young, dark-haired man with striking gray eyes. Pharis couldn’t be sure, but she thought she recognized him from the security working one of her mother’s parties—in Justina’s personal detail, no less.
“Hello. No assistance is required, thank you,” she stated.
She forced down a wave of nerves. Her preparations for the visit to the port had included assigning the Guard to other duties so the path would be clear for her. If these soldiers were here now, how many other aspects of her plans weren’t going to pan out?
“My lady, our orders were clear,” the lead guard insisted.
Pharis froze. Not only had her mother given instructions to keep her out, but she was prepared to back up those commands with armed guards. Pharis was in a more precarious position than she’d realized.
“May I ask to which orders you are referring?” she questioned, though she already had a good idea of where they had originated.
“Please, come with us to see Lady Justina,” the soldier urged.
Why is Mother stopping me? she though
t with a sharp pang of frustration. And how did she find out?
Pharis hadn’t told anyone about her plans, and all of her preparations had been conducted through anonymous user accounts on the Link.
One advantage of spending intimate time with a variety of people is she’d been able to take advantage of their specializations and skills. One particularly tech-savvy individual had configured her user accounts, while another had helped set up backdoor access to the security system that allowed her free movement through doorways that would otherwise trigger alarms.
Pharis felt confident that her Mother didn’t know about those features, since she’d been using them for years without incident. Either the woman had been keeping quiet all this time, or new surveillance had recently been put into place.
“I’m quite happy where I am, thank you,” Pharis stated. She planted her feet flat on the ground and stared at the lead guard to emphasize her point.
He continued approaching her while the other Guard soldiers fanned out to encircle her at the port’s entrance. “Your presence has been requested in the manor. Please, come with us.”
“I’ll return in due time. For now, I have an investigation to conduct,” she replied.
She hoped her cover story was still reasonable, even though her mother had clearly decided she didn’t want her leaving the estate.
The lead guard took another step, physically barring Pharis’s path. “There won’t be an investigation.”
“Connor? What in the stars are you doing on this kind of shit detail?” a familiar voice asked from deeper in the port.
Relief flooded through Pharis when she saw Cyrus approaching. She hadn’t seen him in person for years, and she was surprised to see so much confidence in his walk.
The lead guard faltered. “Cyrus? Why are you—?”
“What seems to be the trouble here?” he interrupted.
“We are under orders to not allow anyone to access this area at this time,” Connor replied.
Cyrus crossed his arms. “Why?”
The guard bristled. “It’s not my place to ask.”
Pharis scowled. “That wasn’t the story you were telling me a minute ago. It sounded like I personally wasn’t allowed here.”
Cyrus tilted his head. “That’s strange. That strange to you, too, Pharis? I really thought the house scion got to set their own travel plans.” He drew close enough to clap the guard on the back. “You always mean well. How about you let us by and we’ll keep this between us?”
The other man stepped out of Cyrus’s reach. “I don’t answer to you anymore.”
“Right. Lady Justina’s orders, we get it.” Cyrus made a show of rolling his eyes. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want it to get out just how good at following orders you are.”
Connor shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “What are you doing here? This matter doesn’t concern you.”
“Can’t a brother meet up with his sister to help with an investigation? I don’t think it’s our presence here that’s suspicious.”
“Orders are orders,” the guard reiterated. “Lady Pharis, I need you to—”
“No,” she stated firmly. Cyrus had an angle he was working, and she was inclined to see it through.
Cyrus leaned closer to the other man. “Give us half an hour. Say she was delayed. Do this favor, and your secret will stay between us.”
Connor paled. “You wouldn’t—”
“Oh, I would under the right circumstances. But there’s a different honor code between friends, where such discretion will always be maintained. Are we friends?” Cyrus tilted his head expectantly.
“We will escort Lady Pharis back to the manor in half an hour,” Connor instructed the other Guard soldiers at full volume. He dropped his voice again to whisper to Cyrus, “This is the last time you get the use the past for your own gain.”
“Trust me, old friend, you’ll be thanking me for this once you get a raise and more leave.”
Connor gave a curt nod before joining the other soldiers in their formation near the port entrance.
Pharis gave Cyrus a quizzical look. “What was that about?”
“I’ll explain somewhere less public. Come on.”
He led her past the bottom floor of parked ships into a corridor. Terry was waiting for them inside.
She brightened when she caught sight of Pharis. “You made it!”
“Barely.” Pharis smiled at the young woman. She was shorter than she’d appeared in their video call, but she also had a more commanding presence. Whatever infusion of confidence Cyrus had gotten seemed to be going around.
“We got really, really lucky,” Cyrus said. He raked his fingers through his hair.
“You served with that man?” Pharis questioned.
“Yeah. I’m actually the one who recommended him for Mom’s security detail. What I hadn’t realized when I did that was that he’d end up sharing her bed.”
Pharis almost choked. “Wait, what?”
“I suppose I shouldn’t have been that surprised. It makes sense to seek the company of someone who’s already nearby and trusted. All the same, that’s not the kind of information Mother would like getting out,” he explained.
“After all the lectures she’s given me, she’s the one bedding the help.” Pharis shook her head.
Terry scowled. “That’s a nasty thing to hang over someone’s head. What if they genuinely care about each other?”
Worry flashed across Cyrus’s face before he quickly hid it with a smile. He gently placed a hand on Terry’s back. “I used the information as leverage, but I wouldn’t actually have turned it into a spectacle. He doesn’t need to know that, though.”
“Sure.” Terry didn’t seem convinced.
“We can debate morality another time,” Pharis quickly cut in. “We only have half an hour, and I need to make it count.”
“Right, this way.” Cyrus held out his arm.
* * * * *
Terry trailed behind Cyrus and his sister on the way to the meeting point. She’d been nervous enough about the rally before, but the Guard’s presence had put her on even higher alert. Worse, she didn’t like that the only thing keeping the lead guard from intervening in their business was a personal secret that shouldn’t have any place as political leverage.
Their efforts had painted Justina Charlemis as an opponent by necessity. Terry didn’t hold much love for the woman, but she’d also regarded her more as a figurehead than a specific person. Hearing that she’d taken a secret lover was oddly humanizing.
Terry could relate to the challenges of a relationship between two people in different stations—it was not unlike how she felt much of the time when she was with Cyrus.
There was no telling if Connor was nothing more than a warm body to Justina, or if there was something deeper between them, but Terry hated to think of anyone holding the relationship over their heads in any way.
Cyrus seemed to pick up on her concerns, because he kept glancing back at her while he walked and chatted with Pharis. During a lull in the conversation with his sister, he messaged Terry over the Link.
He snuck another glance back at her.
Even though Terry still didn’t feel great about it, she had much more pressing concerns.
They reached the cafeteria, which had once again been designated as the meetup point for the mass gathering. This time, however, the attendees didn’t know that t
here was anything planned.
Silence spread in a wave throughout the room as soon as they entered. All eyes were fixated on Pharis.
“Is that…?” a woman standing nearby breathed, and the sharp intake of breath from others confirmed that they knew who they’d spotted.
“I came here before to ask you to listen to me, but why would you?” Terry began in the ensuring silence. “I left here and started a new life elsewhere. Though I came back because I believed there were things that needed doing, but what can a former maintenance tech like me do on my own? I told you that we wanted to change things from the top, and that’s what we want to happen. The woman here with us today is someone who can make that a reality.”
“Take it from me, not everyone highborn is happy with the current divide,” Cyrus chimed in. “My sister has wanted to make things better for you, and now is the time for real action.”
“You’re up,” Terry whispered to Pharis.
The young scion straightened her back and smiled broadly. “First, let me thank you for having a few minutes of your time. I’m sure you’re wary of seeing me here.”
“My lady, have we done something wrong?” a brave woman seated at one of the front tables asked.
“No, not at all,” Pharis assured her with the practiced poise of a true politician. “I recognize that this is your sanctuary where you can unwind between shifts, and I don’t mean to invade that space. I’m here because it was the only place we could speak without my mother knowing.”
Hushed whispers of surprise fluttered around the room.
“You see, my mother and I don’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. I detest the social divides the High Table perpetuates, and I would rather see all people have a voice in the governance of Serenity.”
A new wave of murmuring rippled through the crowd, but this time it took on a sour tone. Highborn simply did not include others in their decisions; it wasn’t the way of it, and anyone suggesting that possibility must have an ulterior motive.
“I know that isn’t what you’re used to hearing,” Terry hastily interjected. “Please, hear Pharis out. I’ve spoken with her, and I can attest she’s not like the others. We have a genuine chance to change things around here, but all of us need to be openminded.”