by M D Cooper
“Thank you for assembling with us today,” Justina began. “I’ve been watching over the past several days as you’ve made your voices heard, and I want you to know that we’ve listened. There are aspects of leadership that aren’t always clear to those outside the upper levels of governance, and you have demonstrated that we can do better to share with you why our actions and policies are in the interest of the greater good.”
Terry scoffed internally. If she thinks that kind of opening remark is going to warm people up to her, then she clearly hasn’t been listening to anything being said.
“We’ve called you here today to restore peace so we can all get back to our lives. This workers’ movement has brought to light what we can do to make life better for you. As the member of House Charlemis leading the effort, my daughter Pharis will now make a statement.”
Pharis smiled at her mother as she stepped forward, giving a meek bob of her head that Terry knew was all for show.
“When I came to visit you a few days ago at the port, I wanted to shake your hands and make a personal connection,” Pharis said into the microphones. “I’ve lived on this estate my whole life, and never once did I properly put faces to the people who’ve made this luxurious lifestyle possible. You. We couldn’t do any of this without you.” She looked over the crowd. “It’s why I believed in this movement. It’s why I still believe.”
Her mother shifted on her feet. Terry couldn’t be sure, but she thought she spotted signs of a Link conversation between the two.
Whatever Justina was saying, Pharis ignored it.
“This meeting was called by my mother in an attempt to get you to back down. Resuming work is the natural end to a protest, right? Well, let’s see where we stand. You’ve asked for increased wages. Mother, are you prepared to offer that?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.
Justina paled. “We will review our compensation terms.”
“Okay, so that’s a ‘probably not’,” Pharis interpreted. “What about days off? You’re going to shorten the work hours in the week, correct?”
Justina’s horrified pallor transitioned to a deep flush. “Again, we will need to review our compensation and employment terms.”
“Right. And I’m guessing that the same goes for expanded specialization tracks, access to rejuv and other advanced healthcare, and all the other stuff you’ve asked for.”
Pharis didn’t wait for her mother to reply before focusing her full attention on the crowd once more. “I know what I’m supposed to say as the Charlemis heir, but I can’t, because I know they’re lies. Besides, I know actions speak louder than words.
“No matter what I tell you right now, the fact remains that my brother and I sent you food and supplies to support the strike effort. I’m standing here, going against my mother’s express wishes, because I believe it’s the right thing to do. It’s time for real change, and you’re not going to get it by giving in now. You need to make a stand until actions are taken to meet your demands, not generic ‘we’ll look into it’ statements.”
Security guards positioned around the platform looked to Justina for guidance, but she gave a slight shake of her head to have them stand down.
It was exactly how Terry had predicted the event would go. Justina couldn’t disavow Pharis’s statements without labeling herself a monster. The setup was just what they needed for the next statement.
“Given the failure of leadership to give you, the people, what you want, I assert that more than a strike is needed. We need an entirely new system of governance. I propose that you have the opportunity to choose your own leader.”
* * * * *
From his place in the crowd, Antaris covertly watched the speech unfold with fascination. It was a good thing he’d gone to observe rather than going to talk to Pharis right away. He’d been curious when Pharis had so directly turned on her mother, but then he’d been blindsided by her call for an election of a new leader.
I think we’ve all underestimated her determination.
The crowd erupted the moment the words had left her mouth. Gasps of surprise were quickly overtaken by shouts calling for an election.
“We want a leader that listens!” they cried. “Hears our voices!”
Arms shot into the air, fists pumping to emphasize their words. Bodies pressed closer together, and moved toward the terrace.
Above, Pharis looked proudly over the people, smiling with encouragement. Cyrus had moved up to stand next to her, keeping a watchful eye for security threats as he scanned the crowd. Their mother was horrified; her mouth was partly open, and her face red. She seemed unsure whether to tackle her children, stand with them, or run into hiding.
Antaris couldn’t help feeling a little badly for her. She was the product of Serenity’s ways, and was only doing what she had been taught was best. Antaris had done plenty of things in his own life in the name of duty that, in retrospect, were clearly in his house’s selfish interests rather than being for the public good. The difference was that he recognized those errors in his worldview, and now sought to correct them; he wasn’t sure Justina could say the same.
The crowd continued to migrate closer to the terrace, and Antaris was forced to move with the flow of the crowd.
Chants and shouts from the people turned angrier and more forceful. On the terrace, Justina’s guards swarmed around her and escorted her back inside the manor. They tried to encourage Pharis and Cyrus inside as well, but the two resisted.
Most people in the crowd seemed happy that Pharis had remained, and began chanting praises, but a minority started to call out that she was part of the problem.
This is about to turn ugly.
Antaris looked for a path out from the mass of people, but they were pressing in around him. He tried to elbow his way through to get away. Even as he took steps away from the terrace, the wave kept pushing him closer.
“All of you are the same!” someone nearby shouted up to Pharis.
Antaris couldn’t see her reaction since she was standing behind him out of view. Based on her silence, it was probably not a favorable response.
Out of the corner of his eye, Antaris saw the man who’d shouted reach inside his jacket. His heavy brow was drawn together, and a deep scowl darkened his face. Everything in Antaris’s military training told him that the man might be reaching for a weapon.
Without hesitation, he elbowed the people between them out of the way. The man was so intent on Pharis that he didn’t see Antaris coming.
He stepped behind the man and grabbed his arms with practiced precision, driving his knee into the backs of his opponent’s legs to knock him off balance. The man’s knees buckled, and Antaris followed through to force him face-first onto the ground.
A handgun fell out of his jacket as he landed prone, confirming Antaris’s suspicions.
“Gun!” a woman shouted, causing people in the vicinity to scatter.
Cyrus grabbed Pharis and pulled her to duck behind the podium.
Antaris was left at the center of an open circle amid the onlooking bystanders. He released the man and grabbed the weapon from the ground.
“That’s not how you solve your problems,” he said to the would-be assassin.
The man rubbed his shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the fall when he was forced to the ground. “Who the fuck are you to decide?”
“Clearly someone more rational than you.”
Several Gallas Guard soldiers rushed in to grab the man. Antaris handed them the gun.
“Thanks,” the soldier said as he took it. “We never would have been able to get to him in time.”
“We all have to look out for each other, right?”
Above, Cyrus and Pharis had come out from behind the podium. Cyrus was looking right at him, a look of near-recognition on his face.
Out of his uniform and with a hat on, Antaris looked just different enough to make it difficult to be picked out at first glance. He thought about trying to get away before Cyrus
could confirm the ID, but it was already too late. A Link contact request popped up.
Cyrus said.
Cyrus’s avatar smiled.
Antaris followed the guards to the base of the terrace while they escorted the prisoner, and one of the men took him up to where Cyrus and Pharis were waiting at the entrance to the manor. Most of the crowd had dispersed by then, prompted by the appearance of the weapon, and those who remained seemed mostly concerned with talking amongst themselves about what had happened.
Cyrus gave a nod of greeting when he saw Antaris approaching. “We really must stop meeting like this, with one of us about to get shot at.”
“What, and break tradition?”
“Today is a day for breaking tradition,” Pharis commented. She evaluated him. “Antaris Laurentia, I gather?”
“Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Pharis.”
He had to say, she was quite lovely, as Kristina had indicated. Some people always seemed to present better in pictures or holoimages, but Pharis was one of the exceptions who had a special light in the flesh, where images had apparently not done her justice. Perhaps it was simply a product of spending too much time on the Acadian Light with a predominantly male crew, but he found himself quite taken with her.
“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, as well, but I’m too wary about why you were in the crowd dressed like a commoner,” she replied.
He nodded. “Please, forgive my clandestine arrival. I knew you were planning this assembly today, and I didn’t want to distract you with a formal meeting request.”
“Because you knew we’d decline?” Cyrus raised an eyebrow.
“The precise rationale doesn’t matter.”
Pharis looked between the two of them skeptically. “Do you trust him?” she asked her brother; Antaris found it curious that she did so out loud rather than privately over the Link.
“If he meant us harm, he would have let the shooter take his shot,” Cyrus pointed out.
That couldn’t have worked out better if I’d planned it.
Fate had once again seemed to intervene in their meetings.
Pharis sighed. “All right. Let’s step inside. I’m not sure it’s wise to be out in the open while everyone is so on edge.”
She led them to a nearby salon with a view of the city below. Out the window, Antaris could make out the assembly area beneath the terrace where a few people still lingered.
Pharis took a seat on one of the white leather sofas and crossed her legs. “So, why are you here?”
He appreciated that she got straight to the point. “With an alliance forming between our two houses, I thought it prudent that we get to know each other.”
Cyrus, seated next to his sister, chuckled. “So, Kristina sent you to check us out on our home turf?”
“She did suggest the meeting, yes,” Antaris admitted, thinking it better not to lie.
“And let me guess: she’s also second-guessing our arrangement?”
They are entirely too perceptive. Antaris look a deep breath while he gathered his thoughts.
“She never had any intention of honoring the deal,” Antaris said.
“You mean the marriage, specifically? We figured that was a ploy,” Cyrus replied.
Antaris had walked into the meeting with the intention of gathering information to bring back to Kristina, but the worry that had been nagging the back of his mind came to the forefront. Pharis’s speech had genuinely moved him, and he wanted to see the future she’d described come to pass. Whatever Kristina was planning wouldn’t align with those plans, he was certain of it.
He had a choice to make. He could remain true to Kristina and deceive these people fighting for a genuinely better future for Serenity, or he could join them.
“Any kind of alliance. She’s using you to get in Dana’s favor.” The words slipped out before he’d consciously made up his mind how to proceed. I guess that settles it.
Cyrus and Pharis sat in surprised silence for several seconds.
“Why are you telling us this?” Pharis finally asked.
“I honestly don’t know. Seeing you speak…. I’ve seen the growing problems in the Ordus for a long time and I never knew how to fix them. Your sentiment of burning it all to the ground and rebuilding resonated with me, I guess.”
“I’m assuming your sister doesn’t feel the same way?”
“No. Or not yet, anyway. She’s still conflating power with influence, not taking into account the many shades of each.”
“It’s an easy mistake to make,” Pharis said.
“You said that Kristina is after Dana?” Cyrus asked.
“Rather, she wants to win you over so she can gain access to Dana and the Perseus. I honestly don’t know what she wants to do with the ship because she hasn’t told me. Won’t tell me.”
“That’s concerning.”
Antaris hung his head. “I didn’t know what to do. I tried to talk her out of it, but she doesn’t have interest in listening to another perspective.”
“I know all about that,” Pharis agreed.
“I feel like a traitor being here, telling you this, but it seemed like an even bigger betrayal to allow her to perpetuate the corruption that you’re trying to stop. The High Table holds too much power. It’s slowly destroying Serenity. The systems beyond our borders are growing stronger, more populous, and eventually—especially with all our infighting—they’re going to see us as easy targets. Orion doesn’t really care what happens out here, and I can’t bear to think of the system falling.”
Cyrus nodded. “That’s exactly the sort of thing we’re trying to prevent. We’re very much in the minority among highborn. In fact, you’re the only other person of status to acknowledge that our ways are leading us toward destruction.”
“It’s difficult to admit that our luxuries are part of the problem, especially when we’ve never known another way.”
“I needed Terry to point it out to me,” Cyrus admitted. “Speaking of which, she really should be in here.”
“Not with Mother on the war path,” Pharis cautioned. “You can fill her in afterward.”
“She’s been asking for updates over the Link.”
“Then keep her apprised,” his sister yielded before returning her attention to their guest. “Please, Antaris, tell us what you know.”
He gave an account of what little he’d been able to gather about Kristina’s possible intentions, and they took it in with solemn understanding.
“Isn’t this a ridiculously complicated plan just to get a meeting with Dana?” Cyrus asked once Antaris finished.
“Well, would Terry ever get friendly with Kristina?”
“Not likely,” Cyrus admitted.
“I believe that Kristina saw that her only play was to try to win Cyrus over and hope that would give her credibility with Terry by extension,” Antaris said.
“Her allegiance isn’t that easy to manipulate.”
Antaris nodded. “I warned Kristina about that, but she was too desperate, and it made her blind to alternatives.”
“We gave her a viable alternative,” Cyrus said with a groan. “She could have just joined us for real rather than pretending.”
“But that would require giving up her power, and apparently that means more to her than being a good leader, as much as that pains me to say.”
“Why come to us with this?” Cyrus asked.
Antaris took a slow breath. “Because unlike my sister, I genuinely believe in what you’re doing, and I want to help.”
“I’d be skeptical of anyone coming in here a
nd saying that,” Pharis said, “but everything you’ve done in the past half hour supports your assertion. So say we do believe that your intentions are genuine—where does that leave us?”
“I’m not sure. Kristina is expecting a report back, and I don’t know what to tell her.”
“Why exactly did she send you here?”
He cracked a smile at Pharis. “She suggested that you and I were a better match than her and Cyrus.”
Cyrus snorted. “Doesn’t take much to see that!”
Pharis studied the house leader. “And how do you feel about that?”
“We’ve only just met.”
“And?”
“First impressions are favorable, but this doesn’t seem like the right moment to make life-altering decisions.”
“Fair enough.” Her gaze lingered on him a few moments longer.
“Marriages aside, we need a plan of action,” Cyrus said.
“Yes.” Pharis kept her gaze fixed on Antaris.
He wanted to squirm, but he did his best to appear calm and assured. Nothing about this day has gone like I’d planned.
As if reading his mind, Pharis asked, “Are you sure about what you’re doing? I know you’ve explained yourself, but to plan, we must be certain that you’re committed to joining us in our efforts.”
It was a fair question. He’d acted rashly without thinking it through fully, though he’d been having doubts about Kristina’s actions for some time. There was still time to change his mind and go back to her, now having more insight than ever into Cyrus’s and Pharis’s thinking and intentions.
However, the thought of going back to being a soldier in Acadia’s navy, doing whatever he was ordered to do even if it meant hurting others, turned his stomach. He didn’t want to be a part of the oppression. His eyes were open, he couldn’t close them again.
“You have me convinced,” he said. “I want to help.”
“Even if it damages your house?” Pharis asked.
“I want to act in the best interest of the Acadian people.”