by Brenda Hiatt
I nodded. “I found out last night I can read even faster now than before you left. But so far it’s mostly government structure, history, protocol, stuff like that. Allister probably edited it before giving it to me. But some of the laws are so convoluted, maybe there’s something he overlooked.”
“And I’ll look at more recent stuff—news stories from the past twenty years, especially resistance news. My dad has tons of books and articles.” He laced his fingers absentmindedly through mine as he talked. It felt delicious.
I’d have been happy just to enjoy the moment, but Ms. Harrigan was getting closer. “What if we don’t find anything? Or not soon enough? Those Healers said they might have something to test in a week. We need a backup plan, so we can get away if we have to. It won’t be easy, and we need to be ready.”
He squeezed my hand reassuringly, then switched to telepathy, since Ms. H was getting close enough to hear us now. We’ll both work on that, too, and compare ideas tomorrow, okay? Don’t worry, M. He could sense my emotions at least as well as I sensed his.
Okay. We’ll figure something out, one way or another, I thought back, just as Ms. Harrigan reached us.
“Are you sure this is wise, Excellency?” Ms. Harrigan whispered, frowning at our still-clasped hands. “I may be here merely to observe, but I feel I should advise you—”
“How about you don’t?” I interrupted. Me, interrupting a teacher! Except she wasn’t really a teacher, and we all knew it. “I’m being advised to death these days, thanks. And don’t call me that—not here.”
To my surprise, an embarrassed flush stained her flawless cheeks. “Of course. My apologies.” With another frown for Rigel, she hurried away.
“Wow.” Rigel was looking at me with something like admiration.
“What? I’m sick of all these . . . these meddlers!”
He grinned. “Me too. But the way you stood up to her—that was great. You’ve changed more these past few months than you realize, M.” His grin faded. “You really are becoming a leader.”
I stared at him. “What, because I was rude to a teacher? Oh, yeah, they’ll be bowing down to me for that. Don’t be silly.”
But his words made me wonder. I knew I’d changed physically, getting stronger and faster—and a little prettier. Plus this improved telepathy and my faster reading, all of it thanks to Rigel. But my personality hadn’t changed, had it? I still felt like an insecure teenaged girl most of the time, which was about as far from a leader as anyone could get.
“Besides,” I said aloud, “I don’t want to be a leader. Haven’t I said that all along?”
“Yeah, you have,” he agreed, but he still looked thoughtful—and wasn’t letting me read those thoughts, whatever they were.
Unsettled, I turned my attention to my lunch.
Sean had a game that night, so I didn’t have to go to the O’Garas.’ (I didn’t even ask to go to the game, though I wondered what my aunt would have said if I had.)
Pleading homework, I went up to my room right after dinner and spent the evening poring over Martian legalities and traditions. Pretty boring stuff, but as I pushed myself to read faster and faster, I found myself sucked into parts here and there—especially the history.
Whenever I found anything that might be useful—an obscure clause in an old law or some historical reference to an exception to a tradition—I jotted it down in a notebook I’d started for that purpose. I also noted which years or even decades were skipped over, in case Allister had deliberately deleted stuff he didn’t want me to see.
When I finally rolled up the scroll around midnight, I was amazed to discover I’d read the equivalent of six or seven whole books since getting home from school that afternoon.
Among other things, I’d learned that Sovereigns weren’t expected to rule for more than a hundred years, though some had ruled much longer, while others had stepped down early in favor of a successor. Three different times, that successor wasn’t the Sovereign’s child, but a direct descendant of an earlier Sovereign.
There had been six underage Sovereigns in the history of Nuath, the youngest Acclaimed at the age of twelve, and their actual authority while minors (which on Mars meant under eighteen) had varied a lot. Based on what I’d learned, I probably could force my wishes on the Council, but that would obligate me to declare for Sovereign right now, which I was not ready to do.
Most importantly, I’d read about a few occasions where intended Consorts had been rejected by the Sovereign, once only days before the “joining,” or wedding. In that case, the Sovereign in question, Vevilana, had gone on to rule solo for more than seventy years, Nuath’s own Virgin Queen.
I fell asleep slightly more hopeful that Rigel and I would find our loophole in time after all.
The next day we compared notes at lunch. Though Ms. Harrigan didn’t talk to me in the cafeteria again, she did keep wandering past, like she was hoping to overhear something. We both kept an eye on her, waiting until she was on the far side of the room to talk out loud about anything important.
What Rigel had found most encouraging from his research was the recent dissent among various factions of the underground resistance—which was becoming less underground as its numbers swelled.
“A sizable minority are opposed to installing another Sovereign at all,” he told me, his eyes shining. “If they convince enough people to agree once Faxon’s gone, you might never have to play ruler at all!”
I was startled to feel a spurt of resentment—almost anger—at those people. Which was just crazy. Sure, they were essentially dissing my grandfather, but I’d never even met him. And they sounded like my best hope for getting out of a job I totally didn’t want.
“That would be awesome,” I agreed, my smile only the tiniest bit forced. Before Rigel could tap into my conflicted feelings, I pulled out my own notebook and started sharing what I’d found last night.
“If you’re reading as fast as I am, we’ll get through all this stuff a lot quicker than I thought,” I concluded. “I was right, though, that I hardly have any recent history, and I’m pretty sure there are parts that have been deleted. These are the gaps that made me suspicious.”
He copied my list into his notes. “Doesn’t surprise me. I wonder if it’s just Allister who doesn’t want you to know everything, or it it’s the whole Council? We may not have much of this older stuff at home, but I’ll fill in any blanks I can.”
Ms. Harrigan was meandering back our way, so as soon as he’d copied everything, he snapped his notepad shut and we turned our conversation to school-related topics neither of us cared beans about.
Back home that afternoon, I spent some time working out a plan for Rigel and me to run away, since neither of us had found anything yet that was a slam-dunk alternative—or even close. It was my night to make dinner and I nearly burned the macaroni, I was so absorbed in details to throw everyone off our track.
I listened more closely than usual to Uncle Louie’s stories over dinner, gleaning a detail or two that might be useful later. I also hoped do some computer research after dinner on how to effectively disappear before diving back into my Nuathan texts.
Unfortunately, I’d barely started clearing the table when Mrs. O’Gara called, asking my aunt if I could come over. Of course, she said yes.
After what had happened here the last time, I couldn’t suppress a sense of dread when I knocked on their door twenty minutes later. “So, what’s tonight’s bad news?” I asked Sean brightly when he answered the door.
“Bad news?” He looked genuinely confused, which was a relief. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind. Why am I here?”
Allister answered, which was bad news all by itself. “Now that you are recovered, Princess, I thought we should continue your education. There may not be much—”
“Time left. Yes, I’ve heard. Repeatedly. Where do you want to start?” I joined him in the living room, resigned to an unpleasant evening.
Mrs. O’
Gara put a cup of tea in my hand before I could sit down, then set out a plate of amazingly yummy scones with jam. Probably trying to make up for my horrible last visit—as if anything could.
“Sean, why don’t you join us?” Allister said as his nephew started to leave us alone. “Much of it will be review for you, but that will be no bad thing.”
Meaning that Sean, as my supposed future Consort, would need to know this stuff, too. Sean’s reddening ears showed he’d also caught his uncle’s implication, but he sat down in the chair next to mine without a word.
Allister became all business then, launching into his lectures and questions without further preamble. Rather to my surprise, nothing he told me was new; I’d read it all in the scroll-book. When Allister started quizzing me, I made a point of answering quickly, and with painstaking accuracy.
“Nuathans first came to Earth shortly before the Renaissance—which they helped to spark,” I responded at one point. “After that, ships came here at roughly twenty to thirty year intervals, always taking advantage of the closest synchronous orbits of the two planets.”
He nodded, his brows rising higher with each correct answer I gave. Sean appeared frankly amazed—and admiring. I tried not to look at him.
“And our settlements in America?” Allister asked after only the slightest pause.
“We had representatives on both the Santa Maria and the Mayflower, but we first formed a real collective in New Hampshire in the eighteen hundreds, followed by a smaller one in Colorado just before nineteen hundred, then the big one in Montana in the nineteen-thirties.”
Allister blinked, clearly surprised, since those were details he hadn’t mentioned tonight. “I take it you are finally studying?”
“Yes, now that Rigel is back and I’m feeling so much better, I’m catching up. Which proves he’s not a distraction to my studies. Rather the reverse.” I glanced at Sean, who looked away, then at Mrs. O’Gara, who was sitting across the room talking quietly with her husband and Molly. She didn’t look at me, but I was pretty sure she was listening.
“Hmph.” Rather than acknowledge my logic, Allister resumed his questions. “How are the representatives for the People’s House chosen?”
“The Eodain, you mean? They’re elected—popular election—from among candidates put forth by each of the villages, usually community leaders from the Royal and upper Scientific fines, though the law allows for other fines as well.”
“And the Royal House?”
“By blood, of course. Though specific positions in the Riogain are determined by Acclamation, based on demonstrated interests and skills. When there are multiple candidates for a position, a vote of the Royals is called, and if a two-thirds majority can’t be reached, the Sovereign decides.” One of those many duties they expected me to take on eventually. I couldn’t even imagine it.
As Allister continued to quiz me on the intricacies of the legislature, I couldn’t tell whether he was pleased I got all the answers right or irritated to have nothing to scold me for. He was clearly groping for more difficult questions when Mr. O’Gara interrupted him.
“Allister? There’s a call for you.” He held out one of those tiny cellphones most Echtrans seemed to use, though I assumed it wasn’t really Martian technology since I’d seen them used in public.
“Thank you, Quinn. Excellency, I’d say you’ve earned a break. Well done.” Allister actually granted me a thin smile before retreating into the entryway by the front door. Then, into the phone, “Yes?”
Sean went to get us more tea while I started spreading jam on a scone, straining my ears for all I was worth. My hearing was so much better since Rigel’s return, I discovered I could even hear the voice on the other end fairly well.
“—need more time to isolate the exact sequence for the Stuart boy, but the serum for the Sovereign is almost ready to test.” It sounded like Healer Fiona’s voice.
Allister shot a quick glance my way, which I pretended not to notice, carefully wiping my knife on the edge of my plate.
“That’s the important one,” he said quietly. “Let’s move forward with that.”
“But . . . the boy? We promised Ariel—”
“It can’t be helped,” Allister snapped, then lowered his voice again. “Keep working on it, of course, but time is of the essence. We need to move ahead with what we have. How do we proceed?”
I heard a sigh from Fiona, like she wasn’t happy with that decision—and no wonder. How could they even consider testing their so-called cure until they had one for Rigel, too?
After a pause, Fiona answered. “Have both children there Saturday. There’s a slight chance the same serum will work for him as well. Once it’s administered, we’ll separate them for a week or two. If the Sovereign suffers no ill effects—”
“We’ll be able to move ahead immediately instead of waiting. Excellent. Please extend my thanks to your team.” Allister clicked off and came back into the living room with a completely phony smile. “You’ll be pleased to hear, Princess, that there’s to be a, ah, reception in your honor here on Saturday. As it’s to be a happy occasion, your . . . friend, Rigel Stuart, is invited to attend as well.”
The O’Garas all looked at him with varying degrees of surprise and barely-concealed skepticism. I tried to hide mine better.
“This is rather sudden, isn’t it, Allister?” Mrs. O’Gara asked. Her “lie-detector” had to be buzzing like crazy, but she kept her tone mildly curious.
Allister nodded, his eyes darting to me, then back to her. “Yes, well, the Council feels it’s long overdue.” With sudden inspiration, he added, “Nara did especially request your lemon poundcake, if you’d be willing to make it.”
Though Mrs. O had to know he was just making crap up, she nodded, looking convincingly pleased by the compliment. She was way better at this than her brother, making me wonder what position Allister had held in the Nuathan legislature. Because he had to be one of the worst politicians ever—maybe a casualty of that Royal inbreeding Shim worried about.
“How nice of her!” Mrs. O’Gara said, not letting on by even a flicker that this was all fake. “Of course I’ll make it. What time Saturday?”
Again Allister was clearly caught off-guard, but he covered a little quicker this time. “I said I would check the Princess’s schedule and get back to them. Princess?”
I tried to smile as convincingly as Mrs. O’Gara had done. “I have taekwondo at noon, if my aunt lets me go, then I’ll have to shower, but I can be here by two o’clock. Gee, does this mean they’re finally seeing things my way? About Rigel, I mean?” I infused as much hopeful excitement into my voice as I could.
“Perhaps so,” he equivocated—badly. “In any event, I’m sure they’ll be willing to listen to anything you have to say.”
“That’s great!” I grinned around at all of them, my mind working furiously. Glancing at the clock on the mantel, I blinked in obvious surprise. “Gee, look how late it is! I’d better get home. Thanks for the tea and scones, Mrs. O’Gara.”
“You’re welcome, dear.” I watched her face, but she was still focusing on Allister, not me. “We’ll see you Saturday, if not before.”
“I can’t wait!” I enthused.
She really did look at me then, with that same probing look I’d seen her use on Molly, then relaxed as she divined that I was being totally honest.
Because I really couldn’t wait until Saturday. By two o’clock, I fully expected to well away from Jewel, along with Rigel.
Permanently.
CHAPTER 38
ealu (AY-loo): break free; escape; elope
Tomorrow night, I insisted to Rigel the next day. We were supposed to be taking a pop quiz in Geometry, but I was filling in random answers so we could continue the conversation we’d barely had time to start before class.
We’re not ready, he thought back, pretending to focus on his on quiz sheet. The plan isn’t ready.
I shot him a quick glare, then looked back at m
y paper. I don’t care how many holes the plan has, we can’t wait any longer! They plan to test their stupid antidote on Saturday, then separate us completely—take you out of school, probably out of Jewel. Even if it only works on me, I don’t think they’ll let you come back. Ever!
I’d thought telling him they didn’t even have an antidote for him yet would be enough to convince him, but he still seemed more worried about messing up my nebulous “future” than his own health or even his life.
To my relief, Rigel finally gave a tiny nod. You’re right. I don’t see any alternative to running now.
We spent the rest of that class and all of English and Science trying to solidify our escape plan, but it wasn’t easy. For one thing, it kept getting more complicated, and for another, there were a lot of interruptions. I hoped eventually this kind of telepathy would become effortless but now, though single words were easy, it still required a lot of concentration to send and receive whole sentences.
At lunch, we headed straight to “our” corner of the cafeteria to work out the final details aloud, even though my aunt had pointedly reminded me I was still grounded as I was leaving for school that morning. Her rules and threatened punishments hardly mattered, if we were leaving Jewel forever the next day.
“So Allister lied right to your face?” Rigel whispered as we sat down.
“That surprises you? I don’t know why. He’s never cared the least bit about us—or even about me as a person. Just about politics and his precious position. For a race that’s not supposed to be power-hungry, he sure seems to be. He even expects me to appoint him Regent as soon as Faxon’s out.”
“No, I guess I’m not surprised. It’s just hard to believe any of this is true. So, will you appoint him Regent?” he teased, clearly trying to lighten my mood.