Corizen Rising

by Heidi J. Leavitt

  “I might have known,” Bret said with a smile, shaking his head as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “You are actually immortal, aren’t you? You keep coming back to prove us all wrong.”

  “Oh hush, you,” scolded Rosalea, taking both of Andie’s hands in hers. “My darling, ignore my ill-bred husband. I cannot believe you are alive! Where have you been all this time? Did you walk here from the port? Let me get you something to drink!” With that she swept from the room. Bret gestured for Andie to follow, and she did with a smile. When they were seated at the small kitchen table with large, icy drinks in front of them, Bret leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

  “So the Ambassador lied to us all, I take it?” he asked, a glint of humor in his eyes. “When he staged a massive memorial service for his wife?”

  “I assume so,” answered Andie with mock gravity. “I don’t know; I wasn’t exactly awake for it.”

  “I’m not going to believe you are dead until I can poke your dead body myself.”

  “Bret! What a truly hideous thing to say!” exclaimed Rosalea in horror.

  “Oh, Rosa,” groaned Bret. “Andie knows me better than to take me seriously.” Andie laughed and tipped her drink at Bret. “I intend to outlive you, old friend, just remember that.”

  “I will.” He looked at Rosalea, who was finally starting to calm a bit. “In all seriousness though, what really happened, Andie? Did the Brotherhood really attack you? Or did you just fake your death so you could avoid all the security hassles? We did find out that you were heading the Red List.”

  Andie looked around playfully. “I don’t see many security hassles here, and yet if I remember correctly you are number six on the Red List yourself, Bret.”

  “Number five now,” responded Bret flippantly. “Apparently the Brotherhood got to one of their own so-called traitors who was ahead of me. The List is officially published now by the Oman, so everyone always knows exactly where they stand.” Rosalea glowered at her husband. It was obviously a topic of contention between them.

  “So? Number five and no security?” Andie pressed.

  “What difference would it make? Security didn’t stop them from getting to Morek-Li or to you, as far as I knew, and certainly didn’t stop them from bombing the embassy.”

  “I can’t get him to see reason at all,” complained Rosalea bitterly. “It’s only his life; why should he try to take any precautions?” She leaned forward and stared into her drink, a tear slipping down her cheek.

  “Rosa, my love,” soothed Bret, tracing her neck with his finger. “There are some precautions, you know that. Why would I want something to happen to either of us, or to the children?” Rosalea sniffed briefly and raised her head to smile faintly at Andie.

  “At least he agreed with me that we should send the children away. They are staying with my family in Mariposa. It has been so long since we have been able to live together as a family,” she sighed regretfully. “Will it ever end?”

  “Hopefully soon, my love,” murmured Bret, smoothing her hair. All three sat silently for a moment. Andie wondered if it really could end soon. Could something really end this nightmare as quickly as it had started? Then Bret turned back to her. “You never answered my original question. What happened at the Inaugural Ball?”

  “I was shot while outside on the grounds,” Andie admitted. “Casey sent me to Zenith to recover and faked my death.”

  Bret leaned back in his chair, exhaling loudly. “So the Brotherhood did get to you after all.”

  “I don’t know how much of it had to do with the Brotherhood at all, Bret. It was Jaory Kruunde’s old steward who tried to kill me. It was Erron Kruunde who left that night with my daughter.” Rosalea gasped.

  “That can’t be,” dismissed Bret. “Erron Kruunde is dead. He died with his father during the siege.”

  “No, Bret,” contradicted Andie flatly. “He is alive and he robbed me of my daughter. I have to find her; that’s why I came to you.”

  “You’re searching for Tiran alone?” asked Rosalea incredulously. “What about Casey, can’t the Armada . . . ?”

  “Actually,” Bret interrupted quietly, “Congress ordered the Armada to pull completely out of Corizen just yesterday.” Both Rosalea and Andie turned with stunned eyes to Bret. “I don’t think it’s wise,” Bret admitted. “I voted against it even, but what’s done is done. It’s all Jerrapo Coraelle’s fault really.”

  “Jerrapo? What . . . why?” asked Andie, alarmed.

  “Well, she came out of hiding after your death, Andie. She announced publicly who she was and then proceeded to demand a hearing before Congress. She used the hearing to present evidence that the Armada had been supplying the Brotherhood with weapons.”

  “No,” breathed Andie.

  “I was there at the hearing, Andie. It was pretty strong evidence, that’s certain. I was the only representative that voted against barring the Armada after that. The next resolution was to cut off diplomatic ties with the Union.”

  “But . . . but . . .” Andie stumbled over her words, a million thoughts flying through her head. Finally she latched onto one. “But this is our home! What are we going to do?” Rosalea covered Andie’s hands with her own. Bret chuckled humorlessly. “After all that work to bring us closer to the Union we go and throw it all out the window. It didn’t take much.”

  “Do . . . do you think it’s true, Bret? Is the Armada helping the Brotherhood?” asked Andie haltingly.

  “Without a doubt, someone with access to Armada weapons is helping the Brotherhood. But I refuse to believe that there is some conspiracy between the Armada and the Brotherhood so that the Union can take over Corizen,” answered Bret decisively.

  “It does seem extremely unlikely,” admitted Andie. “I just couldn’t help but wonder. There are some voices in the Union demanding that the Union step in and take over.”

  “That’s why Jerrapo’s argument had such weight, I think. Anyway, what’s done is done I guess. So there will be no official help from the Armada, but we’ve been there before,” Bret said wearily.

  “What kind of help do you need from us, Andie?” asked Rosalea, returning to the purpose of Andie’s visit. She seemed to grasp intuitively what Andie’s real concern was, and Andie gratefully squeezed her hand. “I think Tiran and Erron probably came back to Urok, possibly through Kruundin City. I was wondering if you still had any contacts that would have any idea where Erron Kruunde would likely be.”

  Bret frowned thoughtfully. “You know that Tiran is the number one Red List target now, don’t you Andie? If we go around asking questions, someone else may figure out where she is before you do.”

  “Bret, what other choice do I have? Don’t you think she is in just as much danger from Erron Kruunde as from the Brotherhood?” Andie pleaded. Rosalea tightened her grip on Andie’s hand.

  “If that’s true,” Bret responded hesitantly, “she may already be dead, Andie.” He tried to speak as gently as possible. Andie flinched, but she brought her eyes right back to Bret’s.

  “She may,” she answered, her voice trembling. “But the Brotherhood doesn’t think so or she would be off their hit list. At least I have to try, Bret. Wouldn’t you if it were your daughter?” Bret still seemed undecided.

  “If it was our sweet Carlene?” added Rosalea fearfully. “Wouldn’t you keep searching, no matter how dim the hope was?”

  Andie fixed her desperate eyes on Bret’s face. He relented. “Oh, all right, I’ll see if one or two of my old contacts in Kruundin City can do a little research for me.” Andie sighed in relief. “In the meantime, you should stay here with us, Andie. Citizens are starting to stand out around here again, and if the Oman ever found out you were still alive, you would be back in that number one spot again,” Bret warned.

  “I’ll be a good girl, I promise,” Andie answered lightly. As long as it tak
es to get some word about where to go, she added silently. Then, come what may I will find Erron Kruunde if it kills me.

  15. Diplomacy

  At the Assembly Station on Tyre, life was turning into a dreary succession of meaningless days that blurred into restless nights. Casey paced his small room in frustration. He had been here six whole months and still, he was refused permission to leave Tyre and go to Zenith. He had recently put in another request for a leave of absence, and he hoped that his superior Madge Zvokallon would finally approve it. He wasn’t doing any good here. Every week he attended the meetings of the Security Council where they debated what they could possibly do with Corizen, but he had nothing new to contribute.

  At first, he had thought that he could make a short report to the Council and return to Zenith on bereavement leave. He had hardly been able to think straight during those early days, wondering if Andie would survive. He was only rarely able to get a comm of any sort from Andie’s father, and those comms didn’t tell him much at all. However, as the days had dragged into weeks, his fervent pleas, and finally demands, had fallen on deaf ears. He was told that it was simply impossible at this time for him to leave for security reasons.

  He clenched his fists in frustration as he continued to pace the small room. Not too long ago he had received word that Andie had finally woken from her coma. Impatiently he had waited to hear anything, but no further messages had arrived. Of course, the ability to transmit comms to the Assembly Station was extremely limited, and he was nearly crazy with the desire to speak to his wife again. He had finally determined to submit one last request to his superiors before resigning his post completely. He would rather work as a day laborer than spend another month away from his wife.

  A small chime at his door announced a visitor, interrupting his fruitless pacing. He opened his door to find Councilor Meecham standing there. “Come in, Meecham,” Casey invited. “Have a seat. Would you care for something to drink?”

  “Something cold,” Meecham answered casually, settling into one of two chairs that were crammed into Casey’s small sitting area. He was a pale man with jet black hair and piercing eyes. He was not handsome but he was striking and his presence carried force. Casey was much taller but sometimes Meecham seemed to tower over him. Casey poured Meecham some of the ice blue liquid he had in his room dispenser and handed over the drink. Then he settled into the chair next to Meecham.

  Meecham sipped the drink and sighed. “Zenithian Blue, isn’t it?” he asked with a smile. “I did not even know we had any here at the Station.”

  Casey shrugged. “Of course. I’m homesick, I guess, Meecham.”

  “I can understand that. With all you’ve been through, I don’t understand why they don’t just approve your leave of absence,” he said thoughtfully. “I tried to put in a word with Madge, you know, but she just changed the subject. She seems to think that you walk on water, and they just can’t make any decisions without you.”

  Casey laughed grimly. “The Minister of Interplanetary Relations hardly needs me to tell her what to do. She is firmly in control of the situation; she has told me so many times.”

  “But she does count on your advice, Morten, without doubt. In fact, this mess on Corizen would certainly be worse without it,” Meecham persisted. “Is it true that they want to put a Corizen takeover to a Council vote?” Casey looked at his guest in surprise. Meecham never ceased to amaze him. Where did he get his information?

  “It has been discussed,” Casey admitted finally. “But I keep explaining that it would never solve the problem.”

  Meecham sighed heavily and sipped his drink. “Anyone who knows anything about Corizen knows that the Denicorizens would never accept Union rule. Not peacefully. What is simply a religious uprising could turn into a full-scale planetary revolt.” He shook his head ruefully. “Any news yet of your daughter?” Meecham asked, changing the subject.

  “No. Inquiries have been made on Nubia, but no one has any records of her arriving there. Of course, that doesn’t mean she isn’t there, but we have pretty much exhausted every lead we had. Officially there’s nothing more anyone can do. I’m going to keep doing record searches myself though. That’s my only option right now.” His face hardened. He had been informed a few months ago that there would no longer be any official staff assigned to tracking down Tiran. It had not been a surprise but it was still a bitter pill. He couldn’t expect the Security Council to keep investigating it forever, but it still felt like a betrayal. He had given everything to his career, and what did he have left? Nothing.

  Finally Meecham thanked Casey for the drink and left. Casey changed his clothes and went to the station’s gym. He worked himself hard, sweating profusely, and in the meantime the furious dialogue continued in his mind.

  I should be on Zenith.

  “She’ll never forgive you for losing Tiran,” a small, cynical voice inserted.

  I should be on Corizen then.

  “You don’t have any choice now. Planning to walk there?”

  There was nothing more I could have done. I’ve tracked down all the leads, he argued defensively.

  “Did you truly do everything?” the voice insisted snidely. “Somebody must have seen them somewhere.”

  I’m sure Tiran’s fine, he tried to convince himself. Just because she eloped doesn’t mean she’s in danger.

  “Ah, but if she was, how could she tell you? What kind of father leaves his daughter alone like that?” the voice attacked nastily.

  He shook his head savagely, trying to clear his thoughts. There had to be a way out of this somehow. If he could just get away from this blasted place!

  Back in his room he took a short shower and dressed again. He wasn’t due at yet another committee meeting until the next morning. He stretched out on his bed for a few minutes but he wasn’t remotely tired, so finally he rose and sat at his terminal screen. Within a few seconds he had pulled up the most recent newscasts from Corizen. He scanned the headlines trying to decide if any of them were worth watching. He stopped short at the sight of Jerrapo Coraelle’s face. He clicked on it, and soon her holographic face rose in the air.

  “Even as we speak, some in the Union Security Council are debating whether or not to invade Corizen. We must act now. The Armada must be expelled from our planet before the Citizens try to take our way of life from us.” The scene switched to show the cheering crowds of the gallery of the Corizen Congress. A narrator continued.

  “Shortly after the speech given by Madam Coraelle, Congress voted to expel the Armada from the planet. In a written communiqué, the Union Premier Maria Rodham assured Corizen that while she is saddened by this decision, the Armada will immediately comply with the terms of the order.”

  Casey stared at the terminal screen in shock, his mouth hanging open. The Armada was being withdrawn from Corizen?

  “In a public release, the Oman of the Brotherhood declared that the expulsion of the Armada is the will of the god Veshti, and that by so doing, those Congress members who voted in favor of it have begun to earn Veshti’s forgiveness. However, President Gulann and Congress member Bret Ka spoke forcefully against the removal of the Armada and still remain top targets of the Brotherhood’s infamous hit list.”

  The chime sounded at his door, and he switched off the newscast. He opened the door to find Councilor Meecham standing at the door again. “Did you hear the news about the Armada pullout?” he said anxiously.

  “I just saw it on my terminal. What can they be thinking?” Casey groaned.

  “It’s going to turn into a total bloodbath down there. I can’t believe it. I’ve already had comms from frantic businessmen wondering how to minimize their losses there.”

  “I have no answer to that,” Casey said glumly. “I don’t think the CPF will be able to protect many foreign holdings.”

  “You have to go back, Morten. Go to Madge and insist that she
send you back. You are the only one who might be able to talk some sense into them. They trust you!”

  Casey laughed bitterly. “I’ve been trying to talk Madge into letting me leave for six months, Meecham. Besides, they just expelled the Armada, who says they would let me back in?”

  “Come on, Morten. You are not the Armada. Anyway, your wife was the great Sirra Bruche, surely that ought to count for something!” Casey seriously doubted that; it was amazing how quickly people forgot old ties. Jerrapo had been his wife’s best friend after all. It hadn’t stopped her from turning against them.

  “Meecham, there is no chance whatsoever that Madge is going to let me go back. You know that,” he responded wearily.

  “Then go straight to Premier Rhodam. She’ll override any of Madge’s orders.” Casey thought about this for a moment, his brow furrowed. It was possible that Premier Rhodam would see his side of things. She was the top executive power in the Union government, and she had the authority to override any of the Cabinet Ministers. There was a chance that it could work, and Casey was willing to try anything if it got him back to Corizen so he could continue his search for Tiran.

  “All right, Meecham. I’ll see if I can get an appointment with the Premier.”

  “I don’t think you’ll even need to see her personally. Send her a comm, and I’m sure that she will get back to you quickly. I’m sure she is grasping at anything to help stabilize the Corizen situation right now.”

  Casey took Meecham’s advice and typed out a short memo which he sent straight to Premier Rhodam’s office. Within an hour he had his answer. All former directions given to him by Minister Madge Zvokallon were to be disregarded, and he would be leaving for Corizen immediately. In the future he was to contact the Premier’s office directly with updates and to receive instructions.

  Before the day had ended he was on a ship headed back to Corizen.