Fortuna

by E G Manetti

  “Yes, milord.” Lilian stretches languidly, tempting Lucius to explore the curve of her hip. “Master Aidan has some interesting notions about configuring Vistrite in the navigation and propulsion controls that could improve SEV1 velocity beyond the projections. I do not pretend to understand it. Nor am I certain it is possible to shape Vistrite to his requirements. Before I investigate, I will counsel with Master Fletcher as to the proposed benefits.”

  “Could not Fletcher have addressed this at the reception?” Lucius wonders, his fingers lazily skimming her navel. “It is an intriguing idea. Should it succeed, it could open other avenues of commercial endeavor.”

  “Did milord notice Mistress Mayling, Seigneur Fenrir’s protégé?” Lilian stretches languidly under his hand, the amusement in her expression almost a smile.

  Well aware of the moon racer’s preferences in women, Lucius chuckles. He can understand the distraction.

  Taking his chuckle as assent, Lilian continues, “As it happens, Mistress Mayling has a deep devotion to the Moon Races and intrepid moon racers.”

  “Does she?” Not terribly subtle of Horatio, Lucius thinks, lightly tickling Lilian’s ribs.

  The smile that had been lurking in Lilian’s eyes teases her lips. “Even more interesting is that Monsignor Horatio’s new protégé, Basil, expressed a fascination with Ancients hunting.”

  Lucius snorts. “Let me guess, somewhere in the art museum there was a lovely blonde with interests in the martial arts and possibly the intricacies of stellar exploration.”

  “I cannot speak to the woman’s interests, milord, but she was blonde and exceedingly lovely. Master Nickolas was openly entranced.” Lilian’s rare smile breaks free. She is as amused by the blatant nature of Monsignor Horatio’s play as Lucius. “Milord, what can be Monsignor Horatio’s intent with such an obvious play? I would expect a great deal more subtlety in the monsignor’s dealings.”

  Sliding his hand into the dark red tresses, Lucius gently separates the tangled locks, fascinated by the silky texture and contrast of the vibrant hue against snowy linen. As for Horatio, “A distraction of some sort, perhaps. Although from what Horatio wishes to distract us is the question. Mayhap a pointed message that he is well aware of who played in last year’s successful intrigue for Bright Star shares.”

  Lilian makes a little sound of agreement, her eyes dropping to his torso, one cool finger reaching out to trace his nipple, the delicate contact igniting a sweet pleasure. Resisting the urge to kiss the smile lingering on Lilian’s lips, Lucius wonders, “Was Gwyneth’s protégé similarly entertained?”

  “Master Jasper?” Lilian responds distractedly, her fingertip playing over his hardening nub. “I do not believe so, but other than knowing he favors women, I have only slight knowledge of Master Jasper.”

  Favors women? Is another Grey Spear protégé bedeviling her? Capturing Lilian’s exploring hand and using the hand in her hair to tilt her face to his, Lucius demands, “How are you so certain Jasper favors women?”

  Smile vanishing, Lilian gazes up at him with a carefully neutral expression. “It is in Master Jasper’s Grey Spear profile, milord. Also, he holds Master Nickolas in some regard and made no attempt to flirt.”

  Demon shit. He has distressed her. Softening his grip on her hair, Lucius turns the captured hand palm up and feathers a kiss. Lilian’s eyes brighten, and her face turns into his other palm. “Shall I inquire of Master Nickolas if Master Jasper was also distracted this evening?”

  “Why Nickolas?” Lucius returns to toying with the red locks. “Why not ask him yourself?”

  “Master Jasper is unlikely to discuss such with me.” The carefully neutral expression returns.

  Jasper has wounded her. Continuing his play, Lucius keeps his voice soft. “Has he been insulting?”

  “No milord, only distant, as distant as can be managed without offering insult.” Lilian drops her eyes, shielding her emotions and thoughts. “It is of no moment. Master Nickolas will acquire what is needed.”

  Unless Jasper does something untoward, there is little Lucius can do about his disdain. It is common enough. Lucius can do something about Lilian’s distress, though. Capturing her mouth with his, Lucius begins a very thorough and passionate exploration.

  13. The Hull

  The planet Ruin in the Fourth System is a massive repository of metallic ore, everything from the lightweight aluminum used in water and air conduits to the dense and durable ores used for construction. The special ores used to form the alloys common in stellar transports are all present on Ruin. The proximity of so much raw material has enabled Fortuna to claim the dominant position in transport engineering.

  The Fortuna transport construction fields are located a hundred miles inland from its primary city, Fort Rimon. There, the continent shifts from the verdant topography of the bay and ocean wetlands to a dry plain covered in blue-gray scrub. Nearly fifty square miles, the construction fields support transports of every type and description. The transport construction interests are major customers for Vistrite.

  For each new transport, two obsolete ones are repurposed, either retooled for new use or harvested for parts. Toxic waste control for transport construction and reconstruction uses the older, sponge-based scrubber technology that the Vistrite refineries have eliminated. Transport construction is the largest single customer for the Serengeti sponges used in the process. ~ excerpt from Fortuna Commerce, Serengeti Archives.

  Sevenday 97, Day 6

  Bright morning light glows against Lilian’s closed eyes. The sun must be well up. Well up? Lilian’s eyes spring open, and she gropes for her slate. Eighth bell. Milord!

  Pushing free of the quilt, Lilian swings her legs over the edge of the bed. As her feet find the soft rug, memory replaces confusion. She is not late. Milord dismissed her at third bell with the gift of a morning of liberty and an admonishment to sleep. Wide awake, knowing she will sleep no longer, Lilian rises and locates her racing garb.

  Both doors to milord’s chamber are closed. It matters not. Lilian knows milord is not within. His leaving may have been what woke her. Serengeti and Blooded Dagger have significant interests on Fortuna. The Bright Star summit is a welcome opportunity to attend to affairs of Cartouche and Cartel neglected due to the demands of Mercium and Bright Star. Engaged with the leadership of local operations, milord will not return until midday.

  The bay is as smooth as a sheet of glass as Lilian works through the forms of her discipline, warming her muscles to the soothing murmur of the water art. Milord’s attentions have left a pleasant soreness in delicate places. Her knee seems sound. It is a perfect opportunity to race to the nearby shrine ring. Tucking the gold warbelt into her trousers, Lilian attaches the thorn to her old black leather one.

  Leaving the guesthouse at the south entrance, Lilian locates the cliff path at the edge of the gardens. The sun is beginning to warm, encouraging Lilian to perform a few additional stretches. A sudden tingle of awareness has her pulling out of a stretch, her hand finding the thorn as she looks around the empty park. Naught. No one. The shadowed windows of the guesthouse reflect the sun but yield no hint of who might be watching. It is naught, a casual observer if aught. Turning her back to the structure, Lilian springs down the path.

  As she races, Lilian loosens and warms. The sense of being watched evaporating with each step, the thorn on her belt reassuring. After a mile, the path veers east, entering Third Hill Park. The ring is two miles straight ahead, Sinead’s Shrine at the southern end. Midmorning on a commerce day, the park is almost deserted. At the sound of racers behind her, Lilian lengthens her stride and increases her pace. It is likely naught. This is a main trail into the park. It diverges ahead, and the shrine path is the less desirable for racing.

  The racers do not change course at the turn. Fort Rimon is not Crevasse City, and Third Hill Park is not the Garden Center. Lilian has no cause to expect anyone to recognize her or wish her despite. But two years of experience and a nagging sens
e that someone watches her are enough to make her wary. Gathering speed, Lilian passes an alternate path and then another. There is no shifting in the steps racing behind her. There are at least two of them. She considers and discards the notion of taking the next turn. If the pursuers mean her ill, they will follow. In a deserted park, those paths do not offer safety. Her pursuers are closing. Up ahead, the shrine roofs are visible among the trees.

  Unable to judge her lead over the sound of her labored breathing and pounding heart, Lilian flies down the path. The ring is within yards. Fear giving her extra energy, Lilian kicks into a final sprint. Racing to the hexagon of Sinead’s Shrine, Lilian turns, using the wall at her back for cover.

  Fletcher Detrenti comes bounding at her, his triumphant grin turning to shock as he careens off the path to avoid running into the point of her thorn. Two paces behind Fletcher, Nickolas skids to a stop.

  Dizzy from the combination of surprise, relief, and exertion, Lilian leans against the shrine wall, struggling for wind.

  “Mistress Lilian, we mean you no harm.” Nickolas is the first to speak, wary eyes on her thorn.

  Five warriors take it! Exasperation replaces Lilian’s earlier alarm as she sheathes the thorn. “Did you consider a hail?”

  Had they called out, she would have readily slowed her pace for them.

  Joining Nickolas and Lilian, Fletcher offers a chagrinned smile. “We beg your pardon. We did not mean to alarm you.”

  “Truly, we are sorry to have startled you,” Nickolas adds. “We thought you saw us when you turned into the park. That it was a challenge. You had a strong lead.”

  Nodding her understanding, Lilian says, “It is naught. I am over cautious.”

  “And with good reason.” Nickolas frowns. “I had forgotten. It has been but a year since the shrine beggar attacked you while racing.”

  “What say you?” Fletcher demands.

  “It is naught,” Lilian repeats, pushing away from the wall, unwilling to dwell on the shrine beggar or his death. “I have a devotion to perform. If you will excuse me?”

  “We will accompany you,” Nickolas insists. “Both into the shrine and back to the guesthouse.”

  “It is the least we can do.” Fletcher nods. With a flash of his charismatic grin, he suggests, “We can race back. Nickolas and I might even be able to keep up.”

  »◊«

  It is nearing first bell after midday when milord’s transport glides to a halt at the entrance of the Serenity Guesthouse. A Blooded Dagger Militia woman leaps from the front section and ushers Lilian into the transport. They must hurry if they are to reach the private aerial park within half a period. Milord’s alert did not reveal the cause of his delay, only that Lilian should be waiting at the entrance.

  Sliding into her place, gracefully crossing her ankles, Lilian notes milord’s relaxed sprawl. Whatever the cause of his delay, milord is not angered.

  “Have you had a meal?” Milord turns toward her.

  “Yes, milord. In the garden café with Masters Nickolas and Fletcher.”

  “How came that?” milord asks. “You were at liberty this morning.”

  “As were they,” Lilian explains. “We met by chance at the shrine ring and then shared a race back to the guesthouse.”

  “What took you to the shrine ring?”

  “I owed Sinead an offering, and I hoped to arrange a trial with Sinead’s Discipline Master,” Lilian replies. “My knee seems mended, but I would try it.”

  “Why not the alcove?” Milord frowns.

  The truth is unpleasant, but unavoidable. “The Discipline Mistress declined to try me.”

  “For what cause?” Milord’s frown turns to a scowl.

  “The usual cause,” Lilian says as dispassionately as she is able. The woman was beyond explicit. She is unavailable to try the tainted doxy.

  “Apollo permits this?” milord demands.

  “Nay, milord,” Lilian hastens. “Were I to appeal to Lord Apollo, the alcove would try me.” With a rueful shake of her head, Lilian notes, “There is no value in an unwilling sparring partner.”

  “True enough.” Milord settles back into the soft leather. “Did Sinead’s Discipline Master agree?”

  “Yes, milord. It is tomorrow at tenth bell,” Lilian is relieved to report.

  “I will attend.”

  Attend? Lilian is at a loss for words. Why would milord attend? It is effrontery to ask. What of her thorn? “It is an armed match.”

  “It is also a shrine rite.” Milord smiles. “I may witness, and having executed both the Duet and Inversion with you, I am curious.”

  »◊«

  The sleek low altitude transports, or LATs, are nearly as luxurious as milord’s transport, the pairs of soft leather seats separated by burled-wood service consoles. To Lilian’s relief, Declan claimed the second seat in her pair, leaving Basil to Nickolas while Fletcher flirts with Mayling. Basil is courteous and attentive, but Lilian cannot escape the sense that he but performs his duty, and that for all his pleasantries, he thinks Lilian naught but a tainted doxy and a coward. Declan’s quiet intelligence and ready smile are far more appealing.

  Tilting her head, Lilian can glimpse the tail of the lead LAT carrying milord along with other Bright Star governors: Horatio and William Margovian, Monsignors Angus and Coyote, and Seigneur Marco. Flanking Lilian’s LAT, the third transport carries the other ranked members: Seigneurs Fenrir, Kemeha, and Gwyneth, along with Gwyneth’s protégé, Jasper. Lilian knows not why Jasper warranted the honor over the other protégés. She cares naught. Unlike Basil, Jasper does not attempt to hide his disdain.

  In a matter of minutes, the rapidly moving LATs clear the hills of Fort Rimon and enter the flatlands. Initially verdant prairie, the landscape becomes increasingly barren, the lush blue grass dwindling in favor of gray sand dotted with purple and red scrub and succulents. In the distance, the northern mountains are a streak of black at the horizon, stark against the pale copper sky. The ominous landscape sends a chill through Lilian, making her long for the oppressive heat of Crevasse City’s dry season.

  “The flatlands can be awe-inspiring,” Declan remarks from Lilian’s right.

  Repressing her sense of foreboding, Lilian searches for a diplomatic response. “It is a powerful landscape, but I find it bleak.”

  “I find it restful.” Declan smiles.

  “We are coming to the construction fields,” Nickolas calls out from the front section.

  Eager for her first glimpse of the SEV1, Lilian peers into the distance where the landscape is marked with what looks like the toppled remnants of a child’s construction set. Low rectangles mix with taller, blockier structures, punctuated by sharp spires set at odd angles. As the LATs close with the fields, the structures quickly gain in size, coalescing into hangers, warehouses, silos, and cranes. From above, they can see a variety of transports nestled among the buildings, some shining in the bright sun, others dull from collected dirt and debris. The deeper they fly into the mechanical city, the more sophisticated the construction sites become, the transports growing larger the closer they get to the far edge and the launch bays.

  Along with the others, Lilian cranes her neck at the window, seeking the SEV1 hull amidst the sea of stellar transports. She has studied the plans and imagined the great vessel. Now she will finally view the reality.

  “We are almost there,” Declan murmurs as they loop around a massive silo.

  As they pass out of the shadow, a series of towering spikes rise like the skeletal ribcage of some massive creature half buried in the desert. Dark, birdlike forms move on the spikes. As the LAT closes in on the structure, the birdlike figures grow and transform into construction workers. The shift in perspective is dizzying. The frame of the SEV1 hull exceeds the largest of cargo transports, although much sleeker in design. Lilian expected to be impressed. She experiences awe. Her imagination did not come close to the reality. Lilian can recite to the kilo the alloy required for construction, but eve
n with the detailed design renderings, she failed to translate the information into the monolithic shell rising from the sand.

  She is not alone. Throughout the LAT, there are sounds and expressions of wonder. With more drama than daring, the trio of LATs enters one end of the hull frame, the spikes towering above them as they transit more than a city block to the far end.

  “Would I were piloting this LAT,” Fletcher laments.

  “You will pilot a flyer in the Thirteenth System.” Mayling’s voice is rich with admiration. “Far more exciting than flying a LAT through a construction site.”

  “I knew Monsignor Angus’ design was revolutionary,” Basil comments, “but until now, I did not truly appreciate the scope of the SEV1.”

  “That was likely Monsignor Angus’ intent,” Nickolas suggests. “To impress us.”

  “He succeeded,” Fletcher laughs. “This will be a stellar vessel like no other.”

  “Monsignor Angus is a visionary,” Declan declares with pride.

  “As you voice,” Lilian agrees, turning her head to take in the remarkable structure. For all its mass, it will travel at speeds greater than the most advanced luxury passenger transports. That alone is not the cause for Lilian’s admiration. Fully constructed on the planet, Monsignor Angus’ ambitious designs would require massive amounts of fuel to exit the atmosphere, and the force of the propulsion could damage the hull. Instead, once the hull, environmental, navigation, and propulsion systems are completed, the hull will launch into orbit. The SEV1 will be tethered to a satellite in low orbit, where its construction will utilize the techniques developed for mining Ruin and similarly unfriendly rocks.

  The SEV1 will never reenter the atmosphere of Fortuna or any other planet. Its massive size will allow it to transport the small flyers that will explore the Thirteenth System. Able to resupply on the SEV1, the flyer crews will be able to explore both planets simultaneously. Additionally, Bright Star will not need to risk the SEV1 in dangerous descents onto the two unexplored planets.