by E G Manetti
The Fortuna stellar transit center is half the size of Crevasse City’s. The launch bay holding the Shimmering Horizon is the largest available and the only one of its size. Lilian knows there is a secondary stellar transit center near the construction fields, but it serves industrial transports, not passenger vessels. In a matter of moments, the release chime sounds and Mr. George appears. Milord and his contingent will disembark before all others.
The small cavalcade of sleek transports is guarded by a dozen Serengeti Militia guards. Half are focused on the surroundings while the others supervise the servitors loading travel bags into the storage compartments. Following milord into the lead vehicle, Lilian sees Nickolas follow Marco into the next one. She does not see Fletcher, but he may already be within one of the transports, along with his mentor Kemeha. Although it is not cold, Lilian shivers as she climbs into the transport. The oddly colored light is similar to that of a storm rising in Crevasse City.
»◊«
Fort Rimon, Fortuna’s prime city, climbs the hills surrounding a deep purple mineral bay that empties into the great ocean. In the late afternoon, the bay is black at the horizon, where it meets a pale copper sky lit by an almost white sun. Perched on a promontory jutting into the bay are the remnants of the original fort and settlement, now the governor’s estate. The colors make Lilian believe the outdoor temperatures should mirror Crevasse City in the dry season, but the chill in the air is more reminiscent of the rainy season.
Serenity Guesthouse, the most elegant in the city, has only two penthouse suites, the finest of which Lucius enters with a stern demeanor that hides his inner delight. Horatio Margovian, Preeminence of the Matahorn Alliance and Broken Blade Cartouche, will have the second finest. The delicate rank positioning was as complex as it was ultimately satisfying. In absolute terms, Horatio outranks Lucius. Horatio is the preeminence of the premier cartel in the Twelve Systems while Lucius is the preeminence of the third most prominent cartel. When Lilian entered Serengeti, it was a matter of the commercial and political climate as to whether or not Serengeti was ranked fourth or third. With the advent of Mercium, Serengeti has cemented its claim on the third position. Bright Star has the potential to elevate Serengeti to the second position within the decade.
Within the Bright Star Consortium, Lucius is the preeminent member, giving him first rank at the Bright Star summit. Rank he used without hesitation. Horatio Margovian is a challenging business partner, and Lucius will use every advantage he can muster, no matter how subtle, to keep Horatio in a subordinate position.
Entering the suite, Lilian has the impression of pale wood, chrome, and pastels, the soothing palate a perfect foil for the panoramic view of the bay revealed by two-story windows that cover the right western wall beyond the entryway. Beyond the windows is a gracefully furnished balcony.
To the left, plants and statuary delineate the reviewer area and create the suggestion of a corridor without enclosing the space. On the other side of the implied corridor, the wall adjoining the great windows flows with water over bronze iridescent tile. As Lilian follows milord and the house master past the water art, a sharp, pleasant scent rises from the mist. Lilian’s research revealed that this form of indoor water art is commonplace on Fortuna, the minerals in the water supposedly promoting health and well-being. The reality is remarkably pleasing, the fragrance soothing.
Past the water art, there is a short corridor with a series of doors to the right. The first door is the entrance to milord’s quarters, which has the same two-storey glass wall as the reception chamber, with a different angle on the panoramic view than the reception salon. Beyond the windows, shadows streak a plant-covered balcony with another view of the setting sun.
As with the reception area, plants and ornaments segment the chamber; a large, raised bed faces the windows, and a seating area contains swivel chairs that can face either reviewer or windows and porch. To the right side of the chamber is the entrance to the freshening closet, to the left a door to an adjoining chamber. The house master takes several minutes to demonstrate the controls, including window adjustments should Lucius prefer the external climate to the environmental controls.
Once the tour of the master chamber is complete, the house master proceeds past the door to the chamber that adjoins milord’s. Across the hall, the house master reveals the small, windowless chamber for milord’s servitor. Lilian’s chamber. Beyond the servitor’s chamber, a pleasant commerce chamber has a view of the hills, and at the end of the hall is a small kitchen. At milord’s signal, the house master forgoes the tour of the kitchen.
Concluding his tour, the house master inquires for further instructions or requirements. There is only one. His Preeminence finds the servitor’s chamber unsatisfactory. Mistress Lilian’s travel bags are to be placed in the chamber adjoining his. The barest flicker of the house master’s eyelids betrays that he is as stunned as Lilian.
Lilian’s chamber is not quite the size of milord’s, but it is equally well appointed. The freshening closet boasts both a shower and a commodious tub. The balcony is less than half the size of milord’s but equally inviting. The wall reviewer is a luxury Lilian has not had in her chamber since they were ruined.
Before closing his chamber door, milord dismisses Lilian until seventh bell. Wary of the phantom servitors, Lilian quickly unpacks her bags, steaming out the wrinkles with the equipment in the servitor’s chamber. With more than a bell remaining, Lilian explores Serenity Guesthouse. She locates the training facilities and discovers from the concierge the details of the surrounding area. Returning to the suite, Lilian briefly explores the small kitchen before returning to her chamber.
Carefully reviewing the lines of sight from her balcony, Lilian confirms that she is not readily viewed other than from milord’s balcony. With milord absent the suite, she will not miss the opportunity. Quickly, she slips into training trousers and tunic and takes up her thorn. Carefully moving through the forms, Lilian finds the weakness in her knee is easing, as is the catch on her ribs. Should the discipline master at the local alcove prove willing, Lilian should be able to execute a match by the coming Seventh Day.
The setting sun shifts to amethyst as it slowly descends into the blackening sea, sparking pale purple light from the flashing blade. Using the potted greenery to conceal his presence, Lucius absorbs the sight of his apprentice working her discipline. His warrior’s eyes note her improved ease of movement. As Lilian completes the forms, Lucius returns to his own chamber to prepare for the coming review.
»◊«
Fresh from her shower, Lilian dons mist-green lingerie that complements the mist-green skirt and tunic in blended linen and silk preserved from her university wardrobe. Comfortable in the rainy season in Crevasse City, it is well suited for the chill of Fort Rimon. Narrow pleats swing gently around her thighs—shortened to end four inches above her knees in compliance with milord’s will. The fitted tunic drops to her hips, the square neckline exposes a quarter inch of cleavage, while the gold warbelt accents her slender shape. Together, the two pieces offer the illusion of a dress.
Organizing her hair in a casually braided tail, Lilian exits her chamber with fifteen minutes lacking until seventh bell. Passing the dining area, Lilian finds confirmation in the extensive buffet that the phantom servitors have kin on Fortuna.
The last of the setting sun has turned the sky a surprising blue and green above a black and purple horizon. Before the windows, milord is thrown into stark relief in a scarlet silk tunic that hangs loosely over black trousers. For a moment Lilian’s breath catches at the stunning sight. Willing herself serene, Lilian moves further into the chamber. At the sound of her footfalls, milord turns and beckons.
Leaving her slate by the reviewer, Lilian joins milord by the windows. Held in milord’s loose embrace, the warmth of his torso against her back, Lilian savors the peace of the moment as the blue and green sky continues to darken. Before the last of the light fades, the suite chimes herald the first of the
Serengeti contingent.
A bell later, the night sky outside the penthouse windows could be any sky in the Twelve Systems, black and filled with stars. Hanging low on the horizon, Fortuna’s rose-tinged moon is beginning to rise. Within the suite, the Serengeti Bright Star team focuses on Nickolas as he completes the Bright Star code briefing. On the far side of Seigneur Marco, Seigneur Gwyneth of Grey Spear, who has replaced Seigneur Ayesha, sits with her protégé Jasper Mollari. Between milord and Marco, Seigneur Kemeha and Fletcher lean forward to catch every word. Another half dozen Serengeti master associates fill out the room, members of the Fortuna-based Bright Star team.
As soon as Nickolas completes his briefing, questions pour in from all sides. Naught discussed is new to Lucius, but the thoroughness with which the Bright Star team questions the potential of the code pleases him. Matahorn and Leonardo will be skeptical and it is well to have their answers prepared. With Lilian’s help, Nickolas demonstrates the sample code they have developed in the ten sevendays since Nickolas began the endeavor. Before the questioning can begin anew, Lilian presents the findings of her stellar transit experiment. At excited exclamations, Nickolas flashes Lilian a grin that she returns with a bright expression.
With a gesture, Lucius calls her to him. At her open pleasure at the success of the code experiment, Lucius has a sudden urge to pull her into his arms. It will not serve. As she takes her seat on his left, Lucius offers softly, “Well done.”
Three periods pass as the Serengeti team thrashes through the implications of this development and the best strategies for positioning it for Cartel advantage. By the coming First Day, they will be prepared to introduce the Bright Star code endeavor to the consortium.
As the last of his retainers exit his suite, Lucius locates Lilian quietly gathering the debris from the buffet onto the dining table. The mist-green dress suits her. The dark circles under her eyes do not.
“Enough, woman.” Lucius pulls the soiled dish from her hand and lays it on the nearest surface. Gathering her loose braid in one hand, Lucius turns her face to his, examining the signs of fatigue. It could be naught but the effect of stellar transit. Many do not sleep well without the movement of the sun to signal slumber and waking. The gray eyes darken with a hint of passion under his touch. For now, he will let it be. Taking Lilian by the hand, he leads her to his bed.
The mist-green dress is not a dress at all. Stepping free of his trousers, Lucius gives Lilian a quizzical glance as she carefully places the tunic on a chair. Sliding the skirt from her hips, Lilian explains, “The warbelt quarrels with dresses, or rather with the ones I would don. There is a fashion for tight knits that the belt will accept, but I like them not.”
Knowing exactly the revealing fashion to which she refers, Lucius admits, “I enjoy that fashion, but not on you. It would not please me.”
Closing with the woman now clad in only her lingerie, the nude man smiles and gently removes the small silken shields before laying Lilian on his bed. The heavy-lidded woman languidly returns his own slow caresses, intimately exploring him as their passion builds.
»◊«
Terrified, Lilian races through dark corridors, her legs impossibly heavy as the dead man pursues. The angry moans turn into the howling of a hound as the Crevasse opens before her . . . She must not let the dead man catch her . . . She leaps and plummets deep into the abyss . . .
Wide awake, sweat chilling on her skin, Lilian collects the sheathed thorn from her slate satchel and stands quietly on the balcony. Wrapped in a coverlet, she examines the night sky and allows the sharply scented air to clear her mind. She knows this cannot continue. She can survive a few nights of disturbed rest but not extended sleep deprivation.
Lilian expected that after a night or two without the thorn, the disorientation would fade. The thorn has not been taken from her, it is only temporarily out of reach. Instead, the evil dreams are gaining strength. There must be a way out of this box. It is not as though she has not had her thorn with her in milord’s presence. It is in the satchel, but it is there. Turning the thought over in her head, Lilian considers the possibilities. She cannot sleep with the slate and recording device under her pillow. If she removes the slate and recording device, there is always a risk that she may need to rise suddenly and gather them both quickly. It is an acceptable risk. She voiced to milord she would not sleep with the thorn. To return it to her bed might be thought defiance, but the satchel has been acceptable for over a year and a half.
In the end, the risks are small compared to the danger that sleep deprivation will leave her mind too dull to serve milord. Although it is possible that within the satchel, the thorn will not protect her from the dreams, Lilian will make the attempt. If the satchel does not serve, she will need to raise the matter with milord. It is not an appealing notion.
Sevenday 97, Day 5
A warm breeze ruffles the night air and whispers through the grass under Lilian’s feet. The distant thunder of the sea rolls over the plain, pulling her forward as relentlessly as the tide . . . A shadow rises silently from the grass and a large hound paces silently beside her . . . Curiously, Lilian reaches out to the dark flank, wondering if it is real or a phantom . . . The hound leaps forward and disappears into a lavender mist . . .
The dark sky is pale lavender at the horizon. Sixth bell. Lilian succeeded in snatching three more bells of sleep, the satchel an odd lump under her pillow. Lilian thought it might disturb her. That was her last thought before dropping off.
Sitting up on the bed, watching the sky lighten through lavender to pale copper, Lilian considers her options. It is odd not to be sparring at this bell. Leaving the suite without permission is out of the question. It is likely that days in the guesthouse will follow the same patterns as those on the Shimmering Horizon, with milord preferring training later in the day. Reaching for her nearby slate, Lilian begins to work her way through the alerts that arrived while she slept. Time moves differently in Fort Rimon than it does in Crevasse City. At Serengeti Headquarters, it is already past midday.
A bell later, Lilian exits the freshening closet to discover the door to milord’s chamber recessed and the chamber empty. Entering the reception salon, Lilian is in time to catch a quick glimpse of a white servitor’s jacket and navy trousers pushing a trolley through the suite door. From the back, the morning’s phantom appears to be male, stocky, and of middle years. It is a somewhat unprepossessing specimen.
“Disappointed, Lilian?” milord asks from the table by the windows, relaxed over the morning meal, lacking a jacket and with his tunic open at the neck.
“Yes, milord, a little,” Lilian admits. She dislikes it when milord reads her mind, but she is reconciled to it. At milord’s beckon, Lilian settles at the table to milord’s left. Taking her cue from milord’s involvement with his slate, Lilian activates her own.
Twenty minutes later, Lucius sets aside his slate. Next to him, Lilian’s meal is untouched. Her eyes are clear as water, fixed on some inner landscape. It is not the first time Lucius has witnessed Lilian in the midst of one of her insights. It has been some months since the last. Intrigued, he reaches for her slate as she murmurs softly, “Too soon. What else? Maybe . . .”
The slate is dark. A quick tap reveals naught but a list of routine commerce alerts.
“It must be. Not enough . . .” Lilian continues to chase a pattern only she can perceive.
Lucius is reluctant to rouse Lilian from her deep analytic state, knowing it can bring on severe headaches, but the bell advances. Experimentally, he strikes his fork against his glass.
“Milord?” Lilian’s pale eyes return to gray, her brows furrowed.
“What did you see?” Lucius asks, hoping Lilian’s latest insight will reveal further advantage to Blooded Dagger.
“I do not . . .” Lilian lightly shakes her head, her forehead relaxing. “The pattern did not complete.”
“I regret the need to rouse you, but we depart shortly,” Lucius explains. “Does
your head ache?”
“No, milord,” Lilian denies, her gray eyes clear.
“Very well.” Lucius sighs resignedly. Whatever it was Lilian sought, it is lost. “If you would eat, you should do so.”
Milord is correct. The fragment of the pattern teases but will not come. She will not solve this problem quickly or easily. A growling belly will do little for her credibility in the financial review meetings. “Yes, milord. My thanks, milord.”
»◊«
The Leonardo Society Headquarters is located a mere three miles directly east of the Serenity as a raven flies. Due to the combination of the hills and the curve of the bay, the transport is required to cover three times the distance.
The architectural style of the commerce district is very different from that of Crevasse City. Here, the tallest buildings do not exceed a dozen storeys, although the positions on the hills give some the appearance of greater height. Cut from the pale blue stone used for much of the city’s construction, Leonardo is a fraction of the size of Serengeti. The front façade is but a third the width of Serengeti Headquarters and rises a mere ten stories. Arched windows and entries hold containers of spilling plants, giving the commerce stronghold the appearance of a terraced garden. It seems a frivolous building to house the power center of the intense and devious Monsignor Angus Blackthorn.
Entering the building, Lilian discovers that the façade is deceptive. The building is as deep as a Crevasse City block, with a central interior courtyard that rises to the glass-domed roof. Echoing the outside, the galleries at each level hold more cascading plants that fill the air with a pleasantly spicy scent. Beyond the courtyard, a massive conference area opens to a manicured garden and a flora-covered hillside.
Within the conference chamber, glass partitions create several large chambers, some further sectioned with plants and the water art that Lilian has learned is a common feature in most buildings. Certainly, the fresh mineral scent blends pleasingly with the fragrance of the plants. Hoping there will an opportunity to study the unique Fortuna water art, Lilian follows milord into the largest glass-walled chamber, which holds a massive reviewer.