So, now her usurper was nothing more than a mess of protons, and she, Karsaven, ruled the kingdom. The duke grinned to herself. In recent times had she not rarely lied, even to herself? Being a ruler? More like dancing on a hot skillet. Besides that, the Reymeyks, who were her only staunch support, had just issued her with an ultimatum. She was to at once recognize their independence and sovereignty over a good third of the kingdom. Even though they had graciously allowed her not to disclose this edict before the day of the official coronation, it was clearly understood that as soon as it became public knowledge in the kingdom the peers would rebel, and this time against her.
Karsaven felt her restrained rage was ready to tear out of her insides. She grabbed a priceless crystal vase, and slammed it against the floor. Perhaps it was another self-deception, but it seemed that it made her feel better.
***
Agrippa wearily put down the pen and rubbed her eyes. Oh my God, only half of the list done. She switched off the computer, on which she had been trying to track what these people had been doing during the day, whether they had access to the inner chambers, and if they had contacted the heiress or those in her immediate circle. Especially with her mentor.
Who else could put together such a devilish operation? And how did they manage to cover their tracks, leaving no clues as to where they went. The palace personnel said in one voice that the snotty heiress had been convinced that a conspiracy existed, and the only person who didn’t try to calm her fears was her mentor. That must mean that it was she that had sewn such an idea into the little child’s head. It must have been she who had prepared the escape and eventually carried it off so brilliantly. Adam be damned for all this!
The captain stood up from the table and walked over to the window. It was already dark. That would be enough for today. She had already had to restart the search program several times because the keyboard was swimming before her eyes. Tomorrow she would need to call the duke and report that all the information possible had been gathered from the palace.
Now it was necessary to focus the search elsewhere. Perhaps the little brat was no longer on the planet. She waved her hand and the curtains closed. She turned off the light and left the room.
***
The duke spent a hideous night. She didn’t manage to sleep until midnight, remembering all the filthy rubbish of the past day. Yes, the Council of Peers had long been obsolete. It is unclear why the old queen tolerated it for so long. However, the council had virtually no influence on the life of the kingdom. The only issue in which the authority of the Council of Peers was indisputable was when there was a question of succession.
What a pity, that today that was the decisive issue for her! When the clock struck three, the duke rose, put on her robe, pulled some comfortable well-worn slippers on, and slipped out through the door. The chambers and passages of the Winter Palace in the capital were familiar to her from her childhood. At the end of the year, when it came to the royal council session of the lower house of the kingdom’s parliament, the whole court moved to this ancient mediaeval castle, which towered high, adjacent to the center of the capital.
Karsaven was brought up at the court after her mother's death, and well- remembered the Christmas tree party for the children, and the balls arranged by the old queen in these halls. She was seized by a moment of remorse, but then she thought of her mother and scowled stubbornly. All she was doing and was going to do was just and inevitable.
The duke went down two floors, and slipped past the Reymeyk guards like a shadow. She went to the park and headed down a path strewn with fallen leaves to the sentry gatehouse. Looking through the window, Karsaven saw the one she sought. Old Mother Neferet, the old sergeant of the guard, who for the last twenty years had been the permanent park gatekeeper, and as usual, she was spending her night together with a bottle of homemade booze.
The duke pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Hey there, you old drunk.”
“Huh?”
The watchman had not yet realized who had turned up so unexpectedly and at such a late hour. The duke pulled the robe tightly around her, came to the table, and sat down on a rickety, creaking stool. “Pour me some of your lousy booze, Old Mother Neferet.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered, “is it really you?”
“OK, that’s enough. You knew me from the time when I was still a snotty-nosed cadet and came to you to smoke a pipe in secret. So just throw me some of your lousy booze, and be quiet while I'm drinking it.”
Old Mother Neferet pulled a gallon bottle out from under the table, which sloshed around half full, took out a dirty glass and splashed out about half a pint. The duke shuddered inside. If Old Mother Neferet’s lousy booze hadn’t evaporated since she last sampled it, then there was more alcohol now floating around the glass in front of her than she would normally consume in a week.
The duke reached out hesitantly, and thought to herself, let them all go to damn Adam.
In the end, this was the real reason she had come here. Karsaven inhaled a deep breath, held it, and poured the contents of the cup down her throat in one gulp. Her lack of practice showed. At the end of the gulp she coughed. Old Mother Neferet laughed hoarsely. “What’s the matter my girl, have you forgotten how real guards drink?”
The duke caught her breath and threw a look at the gatekeeper. She already felt blasted enough to feel at least on equal terms with damn Adam himself.
“OK, you old drunk, I will not distract you from a conversation with your best friend.” She nodded at the bottle. “Thank you for your hospitality.” the duke, staggering slightly, went out the door.
Old Mother Neferet’s lousy booze had a monstrously nasty taste, but it had one obvious advantage. It completely wiped your mind from all present thought. When the duke, sliding along the walls, eventually reached her bed, it was beginning to dawn outside the window. Karsaven collapsed onto the crumpled sheets, barely pulled the quilt up to her waist, and fell into a blissful dreamless sleep.
***
Agrippa could not believe her eyes. Adam be damned to hell! No wonder she was angry at the major. This time, Branderra’s stupid, dull diligence had helped to catch the tiger by the tail. Once again, the captain brought the relevant lines up on the screen. Date of the last visit by the heiress to the royal treasury. Date of the last horse jumping exercise. The filing date of the resignation of Sergeant Evlampa. All three were identical. She brought up a new file, a protocol of the interrogation of the court chamberlain. In a recent exercise session, the snotty child had ordered the removal of all her fellow contemporaries, who were usually involved in the planned horse jumping exercises, and instead of training, went to the Forest Park together with only her personal trainer. At the same time, she was carrying a large bag. New file. Two days later, guard sergeant Evlampa resigned and left the palace. Travel documents were issued for her to the city of Emilat. Her last position was as personal trainer to the heiress in horse jumping. Agrippa leaned back in her seat stunned. Had she found something? She shook her head. Better not to not rush anything, maybe it was just a coincidence. The captain reached for the communicator, but there was another knock at the door.
“Yes!” she shouted impatiently.
As if spurred by the impatience in her captain’s voice, Major Branderra literally ran in through the door.
“Excellent, Major,” Agrippa said, “I was just about to contact you …” But, seeing the excitement written on the major’s face, she anxiously asked, “What happened?
“There, your honor, well, then it's—”
“Stay calm, Major. Answer simply and clearly, preferably in one word. What? And where?”
“The heiress!” the major managed to say, fumbling over the syllables.
Agrippa jumped. “Where?”
“On screen.”
“Is there a message?”
The major nodded.
“Is it on an open channel?”
“No, from a security post.”
<
br /> “Which one?”
“Well, we left a platoon behind, then after, well, when …”
“Stop,” the captain guessed, “from Count Amalia’s estate?”
The major nodded. Agrippa felt as if her heart was ready to jump out of her chest. It was she who had insisted on leaving an ambush behind in the count’s estate, and the fish had been hooked! The captain turned to the console, displayed the incoming messages menu, and quickly found a file with the right entry. It was not a message.
Apparently, someone from the space marines ambush had accidentally turned on their coms unit and a scene showed on the screen. A girl sitting by a fire and looking at the flames. The scene lasted only a few seconds, then came a shout, "You scum". The butt of a space marine’s plasma rifle flashed on the screen, then the image disappeared. Agrippa turned sharply to the major. “Is that all?”
She nodded back fearfully.
“Get the battalion fully armed and ready to go. Get them loaded aboard the discflyers. I want them ready to take off in thirty minutes.”
She wondered to herself for a moment. Any officer should immediately report this kind of news to the duke, but apparently, this lieutenant had decided to seal her next promotion ahead of schedule. Well, the captain could just imagine how tempting it must be to capture the little brat herself, and present her to the duke like a roast swan on a platter. It would also not hurt to mention the count’s derelict estate, which would be very helpful for her, so better not to bother the lieutenant just now. Let her enjoy the anticipation. Also, better not to bother the duke yet, because if she reported it now Karsaven may want to capture the heiress in person. Fine, let’s make the report when we are already in the air and it’s too late to be recalled. Agrippa turned off the console, jumped up and ran from the room. That’s it, you snotty little brat, you won’t get out of this one.
5
The little girl sat by the fire, looking at the flames. In the palace there were only fireplaces in the state rooms and living rooms. They were only lit at state receptions which she didn’t have access to because of her age, except for a few minutes at the beginning when the queen entered the room. So, the open fire reminded her of happier times, when her mother used to take the whole family to the Aldiler Mountain. Her mentor entered the room. “Everything is ready, my girl. It's time to go.”
Tera rose from her pillow and went to the door. Her mentor looked all around, reached out, and reconnected some wiring, then went out closing the door behind her. Guards stood by two hunting ornithopters that had been taken from a hangar hidden in a cavern on the opposite hillside. Captain Amalia, still reeling from the effects of the horse-sized dose of tavlon saluted her crisply. “Your Majesty, the machines are in good order and ready to fly.”
The girl nodded gravely and was the first to reach the high ramp. Her mentor caught her under the arms, and lifting her on outstretched arms, thrust her inside. The guards followed, briskly jumping in. They were all dressed in space marine exoskeleton suits and armed with plasma rifles. They were not familiar with the weapon because it was too powerful to be put into service with the guards, and besides that, the queen had issued a special edict banning its use on the surface of any of the kingdom’s inhabited planets.
Karsaven, however, considered herself free from compliance with any of the royal edicts.
Well, what goes around comes around.
“Are you sure, my girl, that you are doing the right thing?” Her mentor looked at her anxiously.
“No, Galiyat, I'm sure what I am doing is extremely unwise, but today it’s our only chance.”
Galiyat nodded, turned away and went to the second ornithopter. A few minutes later, both machines soared into the air and making a circle over their last refuge, turned around and flew in different directions. While the ornithopter flew low over the forest on the way to its target, the girl leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, remembering the events of the last two days.
The corporal slipped out from behind the rocks, and having pointed the muzzle of the plasma rifle into her and Galiyat’s faces, she growled, “Don’t move, little chicks!”
Tera was scared. It was one thing to be sitting under a thick forest canopy, playing the hero, and firmly insisting that their only chance was if the patrol forgot about the detector from twenty steps away and focused on approaching by stealth, and another to just sit there and stare down the barrel of a plasma rifle. But the next moment her naked guards rose up from behind the rocks and fell on the space marines from behind. The sergeant was first to jump to her feet, after repeatedly thrusting her dagger into the ground to clear the blood from it.
“There is a weak spot in this armor—the back of the neck. We were told about it by our instructor back in induction training!” She turned to the guards. “Well hurry up and get dressed! This is no time to be shaking your tits about …” Then remembering who was before her, the sergeant became embarrassed. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”
Tera nodded.
“Tell me, Umarka, was it necessary to undress?”
She was busily stripping the corporal’s corpse, which was about her size, and replied, “Our clothes are so crammed with detectors themselves that this close up we would just give ourselves away, they wouldn’t need a humanoid detector.”
Soon eight space marines stood in the clearing. A few minutes later the rest of the guards arrived, dressed in their own gear. The sergeant meticulously examined all those dressed up as space marines. She straightened up the holsters on two of them with precision.
“Remember that instinctively space marines always work in pairs. Even if they are just standing and chatting, you can bet your life that there will always be an even number in a group. So, when you stand at the door, get in a pair. Decide right now, who will be with whom, and stay together.”
Once approved in the armor of the space marines, the guards broke off into pairs. The sergeant examined them all again with a focused gaze and nodded curtly. “Well, only Eve our savior can help us now.”
They came to the door in the gathering dusk, when the lights had not yet switched to night mode, but there was not enough daylight. The sergeant resolutely turned on her communicator, and imitating the voice of the dead corporal said, “Hey, reporting back. I’ve got the little chicks.”
“Oh, Blessed Eve our savior, you are so lucky!” gasped a voice in her headphones. “Come on in, I will report to the lieutenant immediately.”
The remote locking system clicked open, and eight uniformed figures with two prisoners came inside. The first two had barely crossed the threshold, when they suddenly rushed to the right and up the stairs, where the schematic drawn by the marquis at their last halt, showed the location of the communication center. A few seconds later there was a hiss from a bullet and the door opened again. The rest of the guards quickly slipped inside and rushed up the stairs to the left, to the gallery which stretched under the ceiling of the cave.
At this point, the lieutenant appeared in the corridor. Noticing the backs of the guards disappearing at the top of the stairs, she opened her mouth wide in surprise, but then the sergeant’s plasma rifle thumped loudly, and the corner of the corridor began to drip, losing shape. It became incredibly hot. Tera turned pale and clutched her mentor’s hand. She had never seen a person turned into ashes.
Somewhere upstairs, the sound of bullets hissed again, and screams could be heard. The guards dressed as space marines rushed forward. The sound of a plasma rifle thumped again, but somewhere far ahead. Then all was quiet. The mentor stood in the dim hallway, clenching a laser gun in her hand and protecting the girl with her body. After a while she heard footsteps and a figure appeared in space marine gear, but without a helmet. It was Umarka.
“Everything is under control, Your Majesty. Our guys are finishing checking the rooms, but it looks like we got them all. There was a full platoon of them, twenty-eight ‘frogs’,” the sergeant explained to the mentor. “Three are alive. The others are al
l ‘accounted for’.” Then turning to Tera, told her joyfully, “The captain is alive, but she’s pumped up to the eyebrows on tavlon.”
When they went deeper into the depths of the hunting lodge, the guards had already tidied up a little. The only indications of the battle were the laser holes in the furniture and wall panels. They didn’t allow Tera into the central hall. The sergeant told her sheepishly "It’s a bit messy in there." So, Tera and her mentor took themselves to a living room with a fireplace. To distract the little girl, her mentor quickly set a pile of wood and skillfully kindled a fire. The girl sat down on a pillow beside the fireplace and stared at the flames.
All day and night they slept, bathed, and fed themselves. Glory to Eve, the space marines hadn’t created a special password, so the sergeant and one of the guards, who happened to be something of a specialist in com systems, simply synthesized the image of the lieutenant in varying degrees of intoxication, and sent these images to the palace several times.
The contact details had been preserved in the com’s memory, the only one which had been used in the previous twenty-four hours. So far it had worked, and by the end of the first day everyone, including the captain who had come to her senses but was still experiencing bouts of dizziness, gathered together in the living room with the fireplace to take counsel. There were few proposals on the table. In the end it came down to just three. Hide on the planet, take a chance to get to the remnants of the Fleet, or try to reach the nearest orbital fortress which had not yet sworn to the duke, and from there to appeal to the Fleet, the people, and the peers. Tera listened in silence. Little by little the arguments died down, and heads began to turn to look in her direction. For some time, the little girl merely sat, staring at the fire.
“Thanks to all of you,” she said at last. “I understand that everyone who suggested that we lie low on the planet want nothing but the best for me, but this path leads to death.” She paused, looked around, then continued. “Karsaven will never stop looking for me, and eventually people will get used to seeing her as a queen and will take her side. Then, eventually, they will find me. At the same time, I do not know if we can break through space to reach the Fleet, which is completely controlled by ships faithful to the duke.” The girl took a deep breath. “Maybe there’s something that I just don’t understand?” She turned to the sergeant, who nodded in agreement.
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