Wand-Losing & Other Things You Shouldn't Be Doing

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Wand-Losing & Other Things You Shouldn't Be Doing Page 2

by Gabbo De la Parra


  Liar, liar pants on fire a.k.a. diplomat without remorse.

  “Perfect, isn’t it?” Fiore clapped his hands like a kid who had just received a badge of honor.

  His father eyed the necklace with a perfect mask of approval in place; the astonishment was just a pinprick on his dutifully schooled features. It took a diplomat to recognize the telltales of another. “One in a million,” he offered, full of mirth.

  It wasn’t that they didn’t love Fiore, they did, and he was a devoted son and brother. Precisely because of this, there was no reason to break his heart by telling him the gift was atrocious.

  The twins hurried to them. “It’s time.” And both towed Max away from his father and brother, pulling him by the armpits and snorting at the sight of the flashy necklace.

  “Ladies, a little more respect. I’m a governor now. We’re not at a family affair.”

  “Oh shut up,” growled Sasta in his ear. “You might be a big shot official, but we can still kick your ass—”

  Amhara finished the sentence, “—privately and publicly.”

  Max almost rolled his eyes. He did his best not to appear a burlap sack full of potatoes between his burly sisters. Their mechanical enhancements were cosmetic, not like Max’s, which were all the products of his urge for experimentation and creation. Anyone would say that someone with such a heavy hand on the pacification of the animosity between the city-states (which is why Anatolia made him governor after his predecessor decided to retire) could not have time to experiment and create, but he needed more than politics in his life, and since men were proving to be more nuisance than gaiety, his imaginative efforts were his only solace.

  “Hey,” one of his sisters jolted him. “Pay attention.”

  They were in the center of the hall, and Max saw Peggy Maitheas graciously swing her wand, all the lights slowly dimming. Unos, his pet ball, floated into the hall with an enormous birthday cake on top of him. All his gears, recently polished for the occasion, twinkled thanks to the tiny candle flames.

  Those assembled sang, “For he’s a jolly good fellow, for he’s a jolly good fellow…”

  “STOP.” Inall Brix, Max’s assistant, skidded to a halt, dangerously close to Unos and the cake. “Governor, this is an emergency!” He was out of breath and uncharacteristically disheveled; he had probably tried to find a solution for whatever the situation was on his own and couldn’t. “A spaceship has just landed outside the city gates by the Yerma plains!” His hands rested on his knees as he heaved, searching for oxygen. “I sent a battalion, but you need to come.”

  After a collective gasp, all eyes landed on Max. His sisters let go of him (they had been clutching him like he was going to run or something), and he straightened his jacket. With a quick flick of his wand, he made his hat appear and fixed it in place, slightly sideways as was his custom. Once again Fate was about to force him to use his only ability that wasn’t a natural part of him— diplomacy. He strode toward Inall, scooped some icing as he passed beside the cake, tasting it (mmm, really good), and spoke aloud with his diplomat face firmly in place, “Let’s do this.”

  ****

  2. REWARDS

  Feathers like eyes

  Metal and flesh

  Unruly heart

  Virtuous mage

  “Imploding black holes!” Rezzu Ki Muselet grumbled. His father chuckled quietly as the priest transmitting the oracle’s message narrowed his eyes disapprovingly. “Forgive me, Dre.” He added quickly and quietly. “I appreciate your time and effort. Please bless me.”

  “Go with the blessing of Meha, my child.”

  Father and son bowed and left the chamber, walking out of the temple in a straight line and simply nodding politely to those they encounter.

  “I’m going to end up with a machine covered in feathers!”

  “A virtuously magical machine covered in feathers…” The amusement in his father’s tone was clear as the cloudless, pale green sky of Mireeh above them. “Your father also threw a fit when the oracle told him his. I’m not that bad, am I?”

  Darien Wanao, the father in front of him, was human. Kekoa Muselet, his other father, was a Colviri prince of the blood, and they were perfect for each other. Rezzu could only hope he had such luck. “If you were better, you’d be a god, Father.”

  “Don’t ever let DRE-Han Ki hear you say something like that.”

  DRE-Han Ki was a nasty codger priest who needed to mind his own business. Rezzu nodded judiciously though. His father arched an eyebrow, probably reading his mind and smelling his deception. He grinned, “Never, Father.”

  “Let that riddle out of your mind. Tomorrow is a great day for you, your first mission as captain. I’m so proud of you.”

  Rezzu had heard the last phrase at least a thousand times throughout the last standard month. Yes, this was his first mission as captain after being first officer for almost five standard years, but it was also (and most importantly) the first Human-Colviri joint mission. They were going to a remote planet where they hoped to discover signs of life. He had come to his position as captain through hard work, but the chances of something going wrong were always a possibility, especially in uncharted territory, like combining two races that get along well but had never had the opportunity to embark on a journey such as this together.

  “Uncle Sule and Uncle Alaric aren’t coming, huh?”

  “I’m sorry, Rezzu.” His father said in common language, because the Colviri would apologize but they were never sorry. Feeling sorry was an excuse to keep doing the same error. “They are tied in procedures with the Courts.”

  “Well, I’ll see them when I get back.” He loved those two men. They were regents of Nova Gaia, a planet the Cygnus Federation had ruled until they lost a war with the Colviri and ceded it. His uncles were humans, as was half of the population of the blue sphere. It was one of the first places where the Colviri intermingled with other races, after being voluntarily isolated for eons without any interest regarding the galaxy.

  “I know you’ll face this adventure with their blessings upon you.” His father squeezed his shoulder and shook him lightly. “Ready for some food?”

  Five standard days later, Rezzu stood in an ornate chamber with high windows, looking at a darkening sky, his hands clasped behind his back. It was weird to not see the three moons of Nova Gaia or the rings of asteroids of Mireeh, his home planet. Only myriad stars shone above him.

  Another man was with him, the governor of Anatolia, the closest city to the place where they had landed. Rezzu had to give it to this man; they were together for a drink after the governor had told everyone to fuck off with a pleasant and subtle demeanor because he was not going to be secretive about this encounter at the end of the many meetings of the day. Rezzu had yet to understand the purpose of this rendezvous though.

  “Pan Rezzu,” Lairdimax Maitheas called him softly. “Your drink.” He had addressed Rezzu in the way Colviri addressed each other, using ‘Pan’ as a symbol of respect.

  The mechanical arm and hand didn’t unnerve Rezzu; he had seen machine prosthesis before. It was the way those green eyes, so similar to the sky of Mireeh, studied him. Hidden behind caution and diplomacy was something Rezzu couldn’t name and didn’t dare try to understand. Both enigmas made him uncomfortable. He just wasn’t sure if it was a totally unpleasant kind of discomfort.

  Instead of thanking the governor (Max, the governor had requested to be called) as he took the flute, Rezzu uttered the stupidest thing that had ever come out of his mouth. “You speak common language, but you have a funny accent.” That was not just impolite but extremely childish. People were entitled to have accents, they made life richer and interesting.

  More than offended, Max seemed amused. “No. You have a funny accent.”

  “Hey, my uncle Sule was the one who taught me, and he is human and was a military teacher.” Rezzu didn’t know how those details made a case for the purity of his common language. There was something about this ha
lf-machine man that constantly short-circuited his brain. Perhaps it was those lips. The governor had a cruel mouth. Cruel in its beauty and in all the desires it stirred in Rezzu with a simple smile. Desires that weren’t appropriate, that weren’t reasonable. A bad thing when dealing with new people, especially if you wanted them to become your allies.

  Green scopes scrutinized his face. Max’s head was slightly tilted to one side; he wasn’t wearing his hat, and his hair was as dark as the coming night. “You said my uncle and human in the same breath. As much as the Colviri have human features and similar bodies, one look at any of you, and we know that if we ever shared a common ancestor it must have been at the beginning of time.” There was no recrimination in his tone, just logical and dispassionate understanding.

  “He’s not my uncle by blood, but I love him all the same. My father is human though.” Something no one here would guess at first sight, since Rezzu had the Colviri’s natural lack of melanin in his hair and skin and the height, usually beyond seven feet; although the Alettans were uncharacteristically tall for humans, perhaps due to the enhancements they favored so much. Nevertheless, Rezzu had his human father’s eyes, a vibrant hazel hue that was unnatural for his race, but that might not be that surprising on this planet.

  “So your mother is Colviri.” Max said it like a fact not a question.

  “I have two fathers.” Rezzu used the same matter-of-fact tone.

  “We have artificial procreation too, nothing esoteric about it.” Max almost shrugged but stopped himself. He raised his hand at face level and moved his brass fingers in a wavy motion, as if testing their flexibility. “We can’t depend on Nature alone.”

  “Love can push Nature, pan Max.” Rezzu murmured and took a swig of his drink. It was a strong and burning liquor. He shouldn’t have more.

  “Love can push many things,” Max offered inscrutably.

  Rezzu needed to get out of this room before he said (or did) another stupid thing. “I think I’m ready for bed.”

  Which could be taken in many different ways.

  Max’s eyes misted, and he arched a manly dark eyebrow. “Me too…” He sobered up, instantly apologetic. “We should call it a night.”

  “Yes, we must.” Rezzu settled his flute on a nearby table. “Good night.”

  Rezzu Ki Muselet, captain of the Oculus and de facto ambassador of the Colviri, hurried toward the door without looking back.

  I’m a mess.

  Just his luck that the planet was actually inhabited and he had ended up representing his people without the extended diplomatic experience necessary to deal with a thriving society instead of the desolate, abandoned site they had expected.

  His two escorts waited outside the room, eyeing suspiciously the two soldiers installed at the entrance while they kept watch from the opposite wall. The people of Aletta seemed friendly, but it was wise to keep one’s guard up. They walked him outside the Palace of Government and boarded their transport.

  Rezzu should have braided his long hair that morning. Now it whirled disorderly about him in the warm wind of Anatolia’s outskirts as the transport sped toward their ship. Rezzu’s mind was a tumultuous reflection of the chaos around his head— admonitions and cravings tossed and turned, fighting and embracing. He was here on a peace mission, not to lust after some politician, no matter how hot that politician was. By Meha, he was a soldier; the subtleties of diplomacy escaped him, and the governor of Anatolia had disturbed him from the moment they laid eyes on each other, at what the Alletans called the Yerma Plains, the previous day. True, they hadn’t come to invade the planet, and precisely because of this— to avoid unnecessary panic among the Alettans, the queen decided not to send another ship with seasoned representatives (upon discovering how advanced the planet was) but to exploit Rezzu’s military wherewithal and summarily turn him into the poster boy for the Colviri.

  Maybe he was just horny, and that was why Max’s beauty bewildered him.

  My mistake for only focusing on my career and leaving the needs of my body to hazard.

  Apparently, what he needed was physical release to be able to focus on a sensible course of action, and it was solely in his hands. As captain he was determined to keep his hands off the crew, but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to keep the same resolution concerning a certain man with starless night hair, eyes like the sky of home, and a sultry, cruel mouth.

  ****

  3. AWARENESS

  “You shouldn’t be doing this.” Max’s best friend in the whole world, Deas, had his reprimand face on.

  “And what am I doing exactly?”

  “You think I haven’t seen how you look at that Colviri.”

  “What? Are you crazy? They probably want to invade us and are just assessing our defenses and power.” He just said this to deflect Deas, but so far the Colviri hadn’t been able to explain quite clearly why they came to Aletta.

  My diplomat gut tells me it is not an annexation.

  Whatever it was, it had a subtle aroma of shame, and that was what made it hard for them to come straight forward with their intentions. Their own remorse held them back— but why?

  Deas arched an eyebrow, which meant, yeah right.

  “Besides, you are well aware I think men are a waste of time. Everything is nice when it begins and then goes to the toilet because it gets possessive and clingy and smothering.”

  Although in his heart of hearts, Max hoped to find the right man and fall in love and live happily ever after with a bunch of mini geniuses like him for progeny.

  ’Verse, not even the twins have this kind of girly dreams. Well, there’s nothing girly about those two anyway.

  “I still don’t approve if you’re planning on doing something reckless.” Deas crossed his arms over his chest and huffed.

  All right, there was something seriously wrong here because usually the one doing the huffing was Max. “There’s something else. What’s going on?”

  “Have you seen how they look at us? At our enhancements? Like we’re less human because we have robotic parts.”

  “Really?” If this was true, Max needed to pay more attention. People feared what they didn’t understand, and what you feared you began to hate and soon you’d be wanting to destroy it. And Deas would know, his company was the one catering to the visitors, and he had more spies than Max everywhere. “It’s not our fault that our ancestors had to enhance themselves to survive. It’s our tradition to replace and enhance body parts with technology.”

  “True. But you haven’t detected the interlopers’ discomfort because you only have eyes for that Captain.”

  “Their ambassador.” Max pointed out.

  “Whatever he is. I mean, I’ve noticed this dislike toward us more in the humans with them, but it’s all the same. They are together.” Deas’ face darkened.

  “Then I was right when I advised everyone to keep their magic to themselves. If they seem afraid of the way we look, imagine their distress in learning we wield supernatural forces in our everyday lives.”

  “If they stay here long enough, they’ll find out.” Deas said with a scathing note in his usually smoky voice.

  “We’ll ease them into it. You always need an ace up your sleeve.” Max grinned.

  Unos floated about them, playing soft music. Max stroked him, and his tubes changed colors happily. If he hadn’t been using his sound reproduction system to entertain them, he would have clicked and chittered and purred in delight before thanking Max. It would be a nice improvement to change the frontal gears for bigger ones so they looked more like eyes. Unos was a ball, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a nice face, you know— like a metallic, chubby friend.

  “I swear to Universe, Max. How could you stay in meetings for so many hours when you cannot even concentrate on a simple conversation?”

  Max gave a slight shrug. “You know we have stenographers to record things, right?”

  “That doesn’t mean your mind can be wandering while others t
alk.”

  “You’re absolutely correct. I’m going to invite Ambassador Muselet to The One Thousand Ball and wring the truth out of him as we dance.”

  “You have got to be shitting me!”

  “Of course not. The other cities have given me free rein over our dealings with the visitors. What better way to engage them than in a ball. It would be a formal welcome for them. Yes! It’s a brilliant idea. I have to send the haberdasher to him to furnish a proper outfit. This is exciting.”

  “I don’t trust these aliens.” Deas grumbled, sounding exactly like a very pissed child, his blue eyes flashing with disapproval.

  The music stopped. “Governor, a calling from Captain Muselet has been redirected to me.”

  Deas’ eyebrow hiked up a few millimeters.

  “Hush,” Max mouthed to his friend. “Let him through, Unos.”

  The Colviri ambassador’s holographic body appeared on top of Unos. Even in miniature, it was imposing, powerful, and did things it shouldn’t be doing to Max’s pulse. He didn’t want a man messing with his peace, but he surely wouldn’t mind messing with the ambassador’s wicked body for a spell.

  “Hello, Max.” The Colviri captain noticed Deas. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

  “You didn’t. This is my friend Teremideas Walker.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Rezzu bowed slightly.

  “The pleasure is all mine.” Deas had his polite face on and acknowledged the captain with an inclination of his head and a gallant (and utterly false) smile.

  Since Max knew all the inward faces Deas was making, he went business-like. “How can I help you, Ambassador?”

  “Can we talk?”

  “Of course, Ambassador. My office, in twenty standard minutes?”

  Rezzu glanced at Deas before speaking. “We could use a less formal setting.”

 

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