Bright Star

by E G Manetti

  At the sound of the chimes, Lilian pulls her attention from the puzzle of Marco. Grey Spear remains absent. If Lilian were to arrive after the bell, even by only a moment or two, she could be belted. A protégé would be rebuked. Monsignor Sebastian Mehta’s delay is a direct challenge to milord’s preeminence.

  “Marco,” Milord begins before he is interrupted by the opening of the door.

  Monsignor Sebastian stalks in wearing his habitual frown, followed by the adoring Seigneur Ayesha, a pretty woman in her early fifties. Lilian finds the eighty-year-old Grey Spear preeminence reminiscent of a bad-tempered bulldog with his roughly hewn features, stocky build, jaundiced complexion, and muddy eyes. The conservative warrior is often a thorn in milord’s side, intriguing against milord’s interests and using every opportunity to undermine milord’s preeminence. Grey Spear’s protégé, Martin—every bit as unpleasant as his mentor—has tormented Lilian mercilessly since she entered the Cartel.

  “Lucius,” Sebastian acknowledges, taking his seat, Ayesha to his right. The casual acknowledgment is as much an insult as the late arrival.

  Lilian is amazed at the Grey Spear preeminence’s arrogance. Monsignor Sebastian Mehta is a powerful and dangerous warrior. She would not wish to find the wrong side of his will. However, he does not outrank milord. Surely he must know he is treading the edge of the Crevasse.

  Amazement turns to shock when, instead of issuing a rebuke to Grey Spear, milord says, “Lilian, sit with us. You are present as conservator of the Desperation Mine and Refinery.”

  Lilian quickly pulls a chair from the table so that she is now seated behind milord’s left shoulder. I am the sum of my ancestors. She is about to learn milord’s true purpose in acquiring her bond and honoring her as conservator. The properties are central to the synthetics venture, but that is insufficient cause for milord’s action. Only the most trusted of blood or commerce kin are honored with conservatorship. In the administration of the entrusted property, the conservator’s will is treated as milord’s. Misused, conservatorship ruins estates. Even a minor Vistrite holding is of immense value.

  “Marco, if you please,” Lucius addresses his seigneur.

  Rising, Marco ignites the large wall reviewer as he begins to speak. “Monsignors, both the Matahorn Alliance and Leonardo Society are committed to Bright Star . . .”

  Bright Star. Lilian can barely believe her eyes. Marco is discussing the formation of a consortium for perilous interstellar exploration and colonization. It is the substance of legends.

  I am the foundation of my family. Lilian forces calm as she considers the repercussions of milord’s ambitions.

  “Both our partners have reviewed the findings of the Serengeti IX Discoverer and concur that there are two inhabitable bodies in the region beyond the Fourth System . . .” Marco continues his system-rocking discourse on Serengeti’s entrance into legend.

  Stellar transit among the Twelve Systems is dependent on passage markers known as beacons; beyond these boundaries, stellar transit is perilous. Automated stellar discoverers routinely disappear without a trace. It has been two centuries since the last stellar explorer and its crew ventured from the Twelve Systems. To build a stellar exploration vessel is to accept almost unimaginable financial and physical risk.

  Honor is my blade and shield. Unimaginable. Risk. Complexity. Lilian can barely hear past the rush of adrenaline that floods her. Honor endures. Milord knows. It is impossible. Even Dean Joseph does not know. Honor knows not fear. Milord cannot read your mind. It is a ridiculous tale.

  Since childhood, Lilian has experienced episodes of heightened intellect so intense that she can decipher that which should be undecipherable. Where no pattern should exist, Lilian can trace it and, occasionally, correct the wrongness that distorts it.

  Unpredictable and erratic, Lilian’s ‘insights’ revealed the counterfeiters, a traitor within the Serengeti, and the potential to use the counterfeit technology to create Vistrite synthetics. Uncomfortable with her inability to control the occurrence of her insights and fearful that her episodes could be considered derangement, Lilian has carefully hidden the full extent of her abilities.

  Honor acts as duty commands. If milord has not yet discovered what she would shield, it is likely he will. Her fate is in the hands of the Shades. With acceptance comes relief, and Lilian is able to return her attention to Marco.

  “The Matahorn Alliance’s financial empire provides access to capital.” Marco presents the specifics of the partner arrangements. “The Leonardo Society holds the patents for the advanced stellar propulsion and atmospheric controls needed for transit through the beaconless expanse.”

  The mystery of Marco’s absence from the synthetics venture is resolved. Milord’s kinsman has been fully engaged in designing Bright Star.

  “As devised, Serengeti will have the greatest share of Bright Star, controlling forty-three percent. The Matahorn Group will have thirty-six percent and the Leonardo Society, twenty-one percent. The delegations from our partners arrive in four sevendays to negotiate the formation. Before then we must assemble Serengeti’s contribution to Bright Star as well as prepare to negotiate for our partners’ resources,” Marco concludes.

  On the surface, no consortium partner dominates. In reality, the Leonardo Society will not defy Serengeti without severe provocation. Serengeti and Lucius Mercio control Bright Star. Remarkable, devious man. Lilian sends an admiring glance at milord’s shoulders.

  Pausing a moment to give his audience time to consider the consortium details, Marco smiles at Lucius, who smiles in return. Both men offer a brief nod of approbation to Nickolas, who desperately attempts to appear modest.

  At the byplay among the three warriors, Lilian solves another riddle. Although Nickolas disdains her, before she was conservator, Nickolas readily assigned her his duties for the fisheries and Desperation. At the time, it made no sense, even though Lilian’s achievements warranted it. Now it is clear—Nickolas required the extra bells to support this heroic endeavor.

  “There is a great deal to accomplish and limited bells.” Marco turns from visions of legend to the reality of commerce. “We must all accept a fair burden.”

  The energy in the chamber takes on a new tone. Control of Serengeti Discoverer’s data is not sufficient to justify Serengeti’s dominance in Bright Star. Vast wealth must be amassed to fund their share. Cartouche contributions will be the subject of intense negotiations. Under Lilian’s riveted observation, Sebastian Mehta’s belligerent expression turns sly, giving his features a repellant, serpentine aspect. The dangerous rivalry between Blooded Dagger and Grey Spear is about to escalate.

  3. Odds Management

  The calendar of the Third System is synchronized with the solar orbit of the fifth planet, Metricelli Prime. The planet’s rotation, or day, is divided into twenty-four periods of sixty-four minutes. Days are grouped in sevens. Five sevendays equal a month. Ten months equal a year, or a single orbit around the sun. Dates are marked with the year of the Order of the Five Warriors (1003 OFW), the sevenday, and the day (S26-3).

  For reasons lost in the rise from the Anarchy, Seventh Day is reserved for reverence to the Five Warriors. Retailers and entertainments continue their trade. All other commerce ceases in deference to the Shades. In addition to Seventh Day and the annual Five Warriors’ Festival, scheduled liberty for servitors and apprentices is restricted to a half day on Settlement Days, which occur every two months on Sixth Day. Dedicated to clearing accounts, even the lowliest of citizens are given liberty to attend to their personal commerce on Settlement Days. The First Day following each of the five annual Settlement Days experiences a spike in bankruptcies as accounts are proven inadequate to liabilities. ~ excerpt from A Social History of the Twelve Systems, an instructional text.

  Sevenday 26, Day 3

  With a startled cry, Katleen barely dodges the stone archway. Catching herself against the stone pillar, the young girl pleads, “Peace, Lilian, I am done.”

&n
bsp; Although the sun is up, the barren courtyard remains dim. Crevasse City, the premier city of Metricelli Prime and the Third System, is deep into the rainy season. Located in the oldest section of the Garden Center District, the house is an ancient, four-storey structure with an open central courtyard that is currently sealed from the rains by enclosure devices mounted at the roof’s edge.

  Increasing the gloom are the heavy security shutters protecting the first-storey exterior windows from projectiles and the house from the vandalism that followed Gariten’s disgrace. Lacking servants to tend them, the courtyard covers will remain closed until the rains cease in another month, leaving Lilian, Katleen, and their mother to dwell in perpetual twilight.

  Nodding in response to Katleen, Lilian removes her face mask. Although it is unlikely that Lilian will take harm while training eleven-year-old Katleen, milord’s command does not permit exceptions. Within her stone training chamber, Lilian employs a face mask.

  As Katleen pulls free her own face mask, she dislodges the queue binding her bright red-gold curls. Her milky complexion is flushed with exertion. Her elfin features and large black eyes are alight with mischief. “Lilian, know you that the Hernandez family provided much of the food service to the Third System Vistrite mines?”

  The bright expression on Katleen’s face is reassuring. The young girl has experienced evil dreams in the wake of the shrine beggar’s attack on Lilian. Now, uncertain of her sister’s direction and her curiosity aroused, Lilian admits she is not. Thinking a moment, Lilian inquires, “Past tense, sweetling?”

  The mischievous smile becomes a grin. “It is known at Sinead’s Shrine that the contract has passed to another cartouche. One Monsignor Lucius expects will be less inclined to challenge Monsignor’s will and damage his property.”

  Some months past Lilian survived a drunken assault by Sven Hernandez, Patrick Volsted, and Maximillian Gomez. Men she had known from childhood. All three were heavily fined for their crimes against Monsignor Lucius’ property—his apprentice, Lilian.

  Lilian’s elevation to conservator came scant days after the assault. It has done more than advance her ambition. Although ambiguous, the legalistics can be interpreted that an assault on Lilian is an attack on Monsignor Lucius. There are few of sufficient rank to risk such a judgment for the pleasure of physically abusing Lilian. Overconfidence in the strength of that protection was at the source of Lilian’s inattention the day of the shrine beggar’s attack. It is not an error Lilian will repeat.

  At Katleen’s words satisfaction settles over Lilian’s face. “I do not expect the loss of that contract has pleased Sven’s father.”

  “The seigneur has rebuked his heir and sent Sven to spend the next three seasons laboring in the agricultural processing center on Genji. It is rumored they may sell their dry-season home in the northern hills.” Katleen bounces with glee as she finishes her tale.

  “That is excellent news. We can expect a reduction in spitting when we go about the market,” Lilian remarks. Physical, as well as spoken, insult has been common since their return to Metricelli Prime after Gariten’s execution. With milord openly correcting those who defy his will, it is likely their neighbors will be more circumspect.

  “Lilian, why Sven alone? Why does not Monsignor Lucius retaliate against Max and Patrick?” As pleased as Katleen is by these events, her animosity toward the others is profound. Unlike Lilian, she holds little pity for the shrine beggar who attempted to assassinate Lilian.

  Smiling slightly, Lilian enlightens her sister. “Monsignor’s retribution will find them soon enough. As the leader, Patrick will be last. I suspect his father is already scrambling to find favor and shadow within his cartouche. It will serve no purpose. The anxiety generated by the wait for Monsignor’s will to manifest is part of the retribution. It is not wise to challenge Monsignor’s will.”

  Nodding her understanding, Katleen replies, “Truly, they lacked wit to challenge Monsignor Lucius.”

  “Is there aught else you would share, my sister?” At the shake of Katleen’s head, Lilian quickly embraces the young girl before moving to the stairs. “I must make haste. It will not serve to arrive late to the Cartel.”

  »◊«

  Shaking the rain from her cloak, Hilda enters the nearly empty wagering parlor, one of four she now shares with Tiger Sylvester. Two surfaced Vistrite miners, judging from their pallor and wiry builds, are reviewing the wager pools. They’ll be worth some long-term wagers.

  Vistrite miners dwell within the Crevasse for sevendays, even months at a stretch before surfacing briefly to close their tally and once again descending into the depths. During their short surface visits, they tend to indulge.

  “What interests the miners?” Hilda addresses the wager clerk seated behind the security console.

  “The Gomez and Volsted pools,” he replies with a shrug, referring to the two families yet to endure Lucius Mercio’s retribution for the assault upon Lilian. “That’s all anyone’s wanted since yesterday.”

  Nodding, Hilda asks, “How’s the spread?”

  “Fairly tight,” the clerk replies. “Don’t have many who think Monsignor Lucius will wait past the rains for his retribution. Most are taking positions between now and next Settlement Day.”

  “Lengthen the odds on the spread between next Settlement Day and Fourth Settlement Day,” Hilda determines. “Let’s see if we can lure anyone foolish or greedy enough to believe Mercio has not already made his plans.”

  “Well met, Mrs. Hilda.” At the familiar voice, Hilda turns from the clerk to greet a well-known figure.

  “Well met, indeed, Mr. Stone,” Hilda returns politely. The face of the slender, nondescript man is half in shadow from the hood of his cloak. It is always thus; Stone appears unannounced, with his face obscured, and uses bearer tokens for his wagers. The devices are as untraceable as his blatantly false name.

  “Fifty thousand that Mercio’s doxy does not survive to next Settlement Day,” Stone demands. He is not one for pleasantries.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Stone, the pools on Lilian’s near-term survival are closed,” Hilda replies apologetically. “I can offer excellent odds against her surviving beyond the next dry season.”

  “I’m not interested in longer-term wagers. I wager fifty thousand that she is dead by Third Settlement Day,” Stone snaps.

  Fifty thousand? Dead within a month? At the current odds, Stone is offering fifty thousand to gain ten thousand. It’s an insider wager, it must be. Briefly, Hilda wonders if she can turn this to her advantage. No, Stone’s wager is insufficient data for developing a corrupt wager pool. For the first time, Hilda finds herself grateful for her bargain with Tiger Sylvester. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stone. I have recently taken a partner. I can’t reopen the pool without his agreement. Will you give me a day?”

  “Who is this partner?” Stone demands.

  “Tiger Sylvester. Is he known to you?” Hilda asks in a carefully neutral tone.

  Without responding, the mysterious Mr. Stone turns and exits.

  »◊«

  Midday approaches as Lilian hastens from the Archives to the risers. The media frenzy over Bright Star is gaining momentum. As Lilian passes the large wall reviewer displaying a popular media stream, her attention is caught by a media analyst’s reference to Bright Star.

  “. . . 1003 OFW, S32-1 is the date set for the historic Bright Star formation in Crevasse City. It is not a surprise that Monsignor Lucius Mercio is the instigator of this perilous enterprise. After all, Monsignor Lucius is no stranger to peril in stellar transit. After structuring the alliance between Serengeti and the Governing Council, Serengeti’s senior governor led his fleet in stellar combat against the pirates. The Luck of the First gave Monsignor Lucius victory and the Twelve Systems, renewed stability. Truly, can there be any doubt that Blooded Dagger’s preeminence is favored by the Shade of the First Warrior, Socraide Omsted?”

  She did not! How dare she? Lilian cannot believe the media associate dared to
imply that milord’s success is due to supernatural aid. Serengeti’s senior governor? Serengeti’s preeminence! What did Grey Spear pay for that slanted slice of media?

  “Luck of the First? More like sold his soul to the First Warrior.” Master Martin’s sneer jerks Lilian’s attention as it generates a scandalized hum from the crowd surrounding him at the reviewer.

  Sebastian Mehta’s protégé is a tall man with a lean, well-muscled build, hazel eyes, skin of burnished copper, and rugged features that include a cleft chin. To complete the riveting appearance of which he is well aware, Martin keeps his dark brown hair closely cropped except for the finger-width warrior’s braid that descends to his waist. As it happens, Martin’s warrior perfection masks a cruel nature singularly lacking in warrior virtue. The handsome warrior holds considerable sway over the other associates and loathes Lilian, whom he has tormented at every opportunity.

  Already enraged by the media’s thinly veiled suggestion that milord owes his success to dark commerce with the Shades, Lilian bites her tongue and forces calm. I am the sum of my ancestors.

  “Careful, Martin, he can read minds,” Roger warns. Roger Macomber, one of Martin’s favorite sycophants, alludes to the supposed supernatural aid Lucius Mercio receives from Socraide Omsted, the First Warrior.

  I am the foundation of my family. Lilian forces her fingers to release their convulsive grip on the scarlet conservator’s signet that hangs from her belt. It is naught but a silly tale spread by the stupid and the lazy.

  “You dare, doxy?” Martin turns on Lilian with a snarl.

  What? No. I did not voice that. Adelaide, protect me.

  “I beg pardon, Master Martin,” Lilian offers without contrition. “How have I erred?”

  “You taint us with your presence. Be gone,” Martin orders.

  Lilian has no choice but to comply. Gladly she hastens to the risers and away from the hateful protégé.

  »◊«

  “Master Trevelyan, I have confirmed it. Monsignor’s Western Continent saltmarshes will not meet the projected demand for synthetics.” Intent on gaining the spymaster’s aid, Lilian leans across the small table. Saltmarsh water is central to the fabrication of synthetics, although not all saltmarshes have the correct chemical composition. For milord’s synthetics to succeed, a larger supply is required than is available on Metricelli Prime.