Fortuna

by E G Manetti

  “. . . If we allow for advance orders of the alloy, we could start fabrication as soon as the SEV1 finishes construction,” Marco suggests.

  “Insist on a half payment up front,” William adds. “We can use the profits to fund the supplies needed for Thirteenth System exploration.”

  “Lilian, make a note.” Lucius nods to the woman sitting demurely in a corner. Obediently, slender fingers fly across the slate.

  The visuals of the festival brawl shocked Horatio—the woman is no coward. He has also come to appreciate the apprentice’s erotic appeal. Protocol has declared her a commoner without status. Stricture cannot eradicate the effect of two decades raised a warrior. To have such loveliness, intelligence, grace, and courage under the control of an apprentice bond is immensely arousing.

  “Yes, milord,” Lilian murmurs as Lucius examines the contents of her slate. Lucius’ fingers tap briefly and Lilian nods. “If I may, milord?”

  A few more rapid taps of Lilian’s fingers and Lucius smiles. “That will do.”

  Horatio is not sure what has occurred, but he is certain that Lucius’ apprentice has found an additional advantage for Serengeti in the exploitation of the hull alloy. Events of the past sixteen months have convinced Horatio that he underestimated both Lucius and the woman. The Damien debacle rankles deeply. Horatio accepted a subordinate role in the Bright Star formation because he was certain he would succeed in increasing his position during the investment negotiations. Horatio was well aware of the tension between Lucius and Sebastian. He had planned to use their dissension to claim the position of principal investor. The discovery that he had lost ground, and that Mercio’s doxy had been involved, forced Horatio to reconsider what exactly Lucius Mercio had taken into his shadow. Discredited and tainted as she is, the advantage Lucius and Serengeti derived from the Bright Star negotiations more than justified her bond price. Horatio has no doubt that the odds managers are right—by the new year, Serengeti will be confirmed as third among the cartels. The increase in Lucius’ power and prestige will make him even more difficult to control.

  Then, the astonishing events around Sebastian Mehta’s retirement unfolded. It has not been lost on Horatio that within sevendays of Sebastian’s protégé receiving a caning for attacking Lilian, Sebastian Mehta was quietly retired from Serengeti.

  “. . . Mistress Lilian.” Marco turns toward her corner. “Have you Master Nickolas’ projections on the Vistrite requirements in the advanced propulsion systems?”

  Horatio is not certain how Lucius’ protégé and the moon racer figure into the situation. He is certain they are party to it, nor do they disdain the apprentice as one would expect. Basil was not alone in protesting Horatio’s orders that they treat Lilian with the courtesy due Lucius’ conservator. Horatio cares not. They will not be able to gather intelligence if Lilian and her associates are avoiding their Matahorn counterparts.

  “Is there aught you require, Horatio?” Lucius’ smile holds a hint of challenge.

  Did Lucius catch Horatio staring at Lilian? Is that why she is here? Horatio did not expect Lucius to overlook the open wooing of Lilian and his protégé by Horatio’s people. Lucius can wonder and watch all he wishes. It will not alter Horatio’s path. Mercio has called a powerful tool to his hand. It is one Horatio regrets not having the foresight to recognize. He doubts he can turn the tool or acquire it. He does need to understand it to counter its power as wielded by Lucius. Horatio will yield no more ground in this alliance. “I could use a fresh glass of wine.”

  Sevenday 98, Day 1

  Lilian frowns at the dark purple berries. They have the seeded exterior and scent of strawberries, but the color is wrong. They look rotten. Tentatively, she slices off a small section and brings it to her lips. Sweet, succulent, it is not exactly a strawberry, but close. With a murmur of approval, she devours the rest of the berry and two more. There are three left in the fruit bowl. A glance at milord’s plate shows naught but stems, a sure indication that milord enjoys the berries. He may wish the rest.

  Picking up her small cup of the dark brew favored on Fortuna, Lilian takes a cautious sip. The bitter taste of kaffee is naught like green tea. Perhaps the cream will help. Surprisingly, it improves the flavor remarkably. The rich taste is pleasing and will work well with the sweetness of the fruit. The three berries are still in the bowl. Resolutely, Lilian turns to her slate.

  The bowl of fruit moves toward her plate. Milord is smiling at her, a hint of laughter in his eyes. “If you want them, take them.”

  “My thanks, milord.” Lilian eagerly transfers the fruit to her plate. “They are not exactly strawberries, but close.”

  “Eat your fill.” Milord reaches for a pastry. “I expect the Bright Star code review will be lengthy, the midday meal is likely to be delayed.”

  “Yes, milord.” Lilian cuts into a berry. As she suspected, they work well with the kaffee. “If I may, milord?”

  “Yes?” Milord pushes aside his slate.

  “Yesterday’s negotiations, they limited some of the plays Matahorn can use today?” Lilian had wondered about conducting such important discussions on Seventh Day, a day customarily devoted to spiritual matters.

  “Very good,” milord approves. “Those agreements removed several bargaining chips from Horatio’s position, an arrangement beneficial to Serengeti and one that will limit Horatio’s options this morning. Otherwise, we might be in discussion of the Bright Star code until the dark of night.”

  “Milord is very clever,” Lilian observes, not for the first time.

  »◊«

  The large conference area is hushed. Lilian’s fingers lightly tap her slate, betraying her anxiety over the potential reactions. Adelaide’s Thorn! What ails me? Lilian forces her fingers to halt, to express naught but serenity with her expression and stance. Two dozen pairs of eyes are fixed on the review screen where Nickolas is decoding Lilian’s coded alert. Five symbols translating into a summary of the hull review.

  “Clever,” Monsignor Angus comments. “A code within a code.”

  Relief floods Lilian at the positive response. Rapidly, she scans the chamber, seeking other responses and finding speculation, confusion, and admiration. She wishes she could catalog all her impressions. She wishes she had her recording device.

  “How does code increase the speed of transmission?” Seigneur Fenrir demands, his eyes spearing Lilian with challenge.

  I am the sum of my ancestors. The harsh challenge slams into Lilian’s skittering thoughts, forcing her to focus. Ever since her odd moment of déjà vu at the art museum, Lilian has done what she can to avoid the Matahorn financials seigneur. She can think of no reason for that odd moment of recognition and fear. The seigneur has displayed naught but indifference to her and commitment to the financial success of Bright Star. Knowing it was likely no more than the result of exhaustion from the nearly sleepless voyage does not alter Lilian’s aversion. I am the foundation of my family. She must not fail milord. “With the code, only the header of the alert is needed. All else is stripped away, leaving a very small message. That is how we are able to achieve such rapid transmission times, Seigneur.”

  “The encrypted nature of the message is an added benefit,” Nickolas inserts. “The SEV can safely send transmission over any available channel.”

  “Have you proof of the transmission speed?” Monsignor Coyote leans forward.

  It is as milord anticipated. Engineers and scientists, the Leonardo monsignors find the potential fascinating.

  “Yes, Monsignor.” Nickolas smiles. “We conducted a series of trials during the Shimmering Horizon transit.”

  Relieved to have lost Seigneur Fenrir’s attention, Lilian quickly displays the results of the transmission tests and the projections for transmissions to and from the Thirteenth System.

  “A day instead of a sevenday?” Monsignor Angus murmurs in awe. “Even if it is but half that, this is marvelous.”

  “Marvelously expensive,” Seigneur Fenrir scof
fs. “I doubt the benefit is worth the cost.”

  Again, milord is prescient. He predicted the Matahorn contingent would be resistant, focused on the commerce impact. Demonstration complete, Nickolas and Lilian return to their places while heated debate breaks out. From her position seated behind Lucius’ left shoulder, Lilian rapidly taps her slate, attempting to keep up with unfolding commerce drama.

  Leonardo and Serengeti are committing valued members of their enterprises to the risky exploration of the Thirteenth System, friends and retainers they wish to see returned safely and successfully. Matahorn’s members of the expedition are secondary kin and a few of the more intrepid members of the Matahorn Militia. They are expendable. To commit to the cost, Matahorn wishes for more benefit than the improved potential of crew survival.

  Lilian wonders if some of the resistance is due to warrior offense at the very idea of learning even an evolved version of a servitor’s notes form. Realizing her thoughts are scurrying off on a tangent, Lilian crosses and uncrosses her legs, forcing her attention back to the discussion. The financial concern is not without merit. It will be two years before the SEV1 launches into the Thirteenth System, at least another year for exploration and the first stage of commerce development. Exploitation of innovations such as the hull alloy and propulsion systems will add to Bright Star’s resources, but they may not be enough. Additional investments must come from the consortium or new investors. All three partners already have massive sums at risk, but new investors will dilute the benefit to the existing partners.

  Horatio rapidly scans the chamber, wondering who knew about this development. From their expressions, Serengeti has kept this close. Leonardo had no more warning than Matahorn. While William and Fenrir challenge the financial benefits of the code, Horatio wonders how Lucius’ protégé could have become aware of the apprentice notes form. Horatio has spent five decades immersed in the business of Matahorn, two decades controlling it. Until this day, he had not known of the existence of this servitor’s tool. There is no question that the sooner they have accurate information on the potential of the Thirteenth System, the better. Matahorn will agree, but if he can gain advantage in the process, it will be preferable.

  After the first half period of discussion, Lucius relaxes in his chair. The debate will go on for a while, but it will resolve as he planned. For the third time, Lilian rustles behind him. What ails the woman? Lilian never fidgets. Turning his seat as if to attend Angus’ comment, Lucius directs a sharp gaze at his apprentice. One foot is fast-tapping in time with her flying fingers. Under the weight of his gaze, she looks up, the bright gray eyes sparkling with energy. Inquiry turns to confusion as she recognizes the censure in his expression. The wayward foot ceases to move, and Lilian dutifully returns to her slate.

  As milord predicted, midday chimes while the debate continues. Monsignor Angus orders a meal brought in and calls for a brief respite while they wait. Rising with milord, Lilian finds that her earlier energy has faded. She will be glad for the short respite and a meal. She also very much wishes to visit the freshening closet, as do most of the assembled, judging by the rapidly clearing chamber. Her slate refuses to slide into its slot, catching on the bulge of her thorn. With a soft grumble, Lilian finally gets into place.

  “Lilian.” Milord frowns. “What ails you, this day?”

  The chamber is all but empty; her clumsiness is delaying milord.

  “I know not, milord,” Lilian confesses. “Earlier, I was so filled with energy I could hardly contain it. Now, I am unaccountably weary.”

  “You were fine during the morning meal.” Milord’s expression shifts from anger to confusion.

  “Truly, milord, it is likely naught but the delayed meal,” Lilian replies. “Mayhap tea will clear the clouds from my thoughts.”

  “Tea,” milord muses, grasping her chin to tilt her face to his searching gaze. “You had the kaffee this morn. Have you tried it before?”

  “No, milord. I was but curious,” Lilian explains. “The taste was pleasant with the berries.”

  “It is a much stronger stimulant than tea.” Milord’s expression softens. “We know how adversely powerful stimulants affect you. You should avoid it in the future.”

  “Yes, milord,” Lilian agrees, relieved at the benign cause of her odd behavior.

  “Take your respite.” Milord releases her chin. “As soon as we finish with the code, I must depart to attend to Blooded Dagger affairs. Nickolas will escort you back to the Serenity after commerce.”

  »◊«

  The small bites provided by Leonardo are not a substantial meal, but they are easily consumed and sufficient. Sipping iced green tea, Lilian notes that with the repast, the tone of the discussion has changed. It remains lively, but no longer heated. The communal meal is a subtle reminder that the warriors are partners in a remarkable endeavor.

  Horatio is ready for the end of the negotiations. There is no further advantage to debate. At his signal, William and Fenrir finish negotiations. As part of Matahorn’s acceptance, Fenrir demands his protégé be included in the code team. It is a reasonable request, and with Lucius’ protégé leading the effort, an appropriate addition. Angus concurs and adds Declan. Mayling’s involvement in the code protocol works very well for Horatio, better than his own protégé’s. Basil has been singularly unsuccessful in penetrating the enigma of Lucius’ doxy. Although Horatio did not expect Lilian to be seduced into an illicit relationship with his protégé, Horatio had thought that the flattering attention of the handsome warrior would lure her into a slip or two. As it turns out, Lucius’ doxy is exceptionally circumspect. Mayhap Lilian will find a female friend of the station to which Lilian was born a more appealing confidante.

  Lucius barely represses a smile when Matahorn and Leonardo begin negotiating the composition of the Bright Star code team. Lucius has won. The effort to develop a consensus has paid off. The partners will share equally in the costs of innovations; the burden of funding an innovation will not fall solely to the innovator. Lucius well knows that innovative thought will originate within Serengeti and Leonardo. He will yield no ground to Matahorn in this alliance.

  15. Bright Star Code

  With each successive decade of the Anarchy, the communication, transport, and governance infrastructure that united the Three Systems eroded. After fifty years, the Three Systems had abandoned a common code of governance. By the end of the first century of Anarchy, all vestiges of system-level governance had collapsed, leaving naught but nine independent worlds scattered across three stellar systems. Without the common infrastructure, the technological skills of the ancients fragmented. Experts could no longer share knowledge and advancement throughout the systems. New discoveries were no longer added to the great repositories on Mulan.

  War, pestilence, and starvation eliminated countless technologists and scholars before successors could be trained. Invaders and marauders looted and burned metropolitan centers, wantonly destroying archives. By the time the Five Warriors united to end the Anarchy, much of the ancients’ knowledge was lost. Of what remained, the vast majority was indecipherable. Since the founding of the Order, the remnants of the ancients’ knowledge have been carefully preserved in the hope that they can one day be understood. ~ excerpt from The Origins of the Five Warriors, a scholarly treatise.

  Sevenday 98, Day 2

  Lilian is drifting in the ocean, warm, content . . . Strong arms enfold her . . . Milord’s mouth nibbles along her neck and then breasts . . . Heavy thighs, rough with dark hair, tangle with hers . . . Large hands make delightful explorations of her skin . . .

  Resisting the pull of wakefulness, Lilian tries to burrow back into the dream. A sharp nip rouses her to find that the dream has merged with reality. Early morning light filters through the windows Lilian left open to the air of Fortuna. The sharp bite of the bay minerals mixes with milord’s familiar scent. Pleasant drowsiness transmutes to desire as Lilian returns milord’s caresses. Desire turns to urgency and then to
completion.

  Milord’s chest is warm and inviting, milord’s enfolding arms comforting. Content, Lilian nestles into the pleasant embrace, savoring the languor in her limbs and the glow of her release. Milord’s voice rumbles under her ear, “Was it well done?”

  Exceedingly. Do not. Milord refers to commerce. Milord wishes to know about the code team. As soon as the code negotiations ended, Nickolas convened the code team. Lilian did not return to the suite until after tenth bell, when she found the doors to milord’s chamber closed. “Master Nickolas is well in control of the code effort, milord. The time frame is not all we would wish, but it should be sufficient.”

  “Aught else?” Milord’s embrace loosens as he stretches.

  “Mayhap, milord, I know not for certain.” It could be naught, but Mayling’s sudden desire for friendship is both an aberration and remarkably similar to Basil’s attempts to charm her.

  Milord’s stretch turns into a roll as he moves Lilian onto her back. “What do you know? What do you suspect?”

  Milord’s words free her tongue. She has no reason but experience for her suspicions of the highly ranked warrior. “Either Monsignor Horatio considers me a fool, or his retainers lack subtlety and are unworthy of the monsignor.”

  Lilian searches milord’s face carefully for reaction to her words. Milord’s unwavering gaze is inquiring rather than harsh. Lilian continues, “Mistress Mayling is suddenly offering remarkable courtesy. Well out of keeping with our relative stations and limited acquaintance.”

  “Basil was not succeeding, so Horatio has set Mayling on you?” Lucius wonders. What can he be after? “Has her courtesy to Master Fletcher diminished?”

  “No, milord, increased rather.” Lilian’s brow furrows in concentration. “There is no question that Mistress Mayling favors Master Fletcher.”

  “What do you truly believe? Omit the evidence, speak the conclusion. The morning is advancing and this day will be as long as the last.”

  “Monsignor Horatio remains annoyed at the success of last year’s intrigue,” Lilian dutifully summarizes. “The monsignor wishes no repeat, and to lose no more ground to milord. Monsignor Horatio believes his best avenue to a successful intrigue is through milord’s weakest retainer. I cannot but think the monsignor believes me a fool.”