“Wald il qahbaa.” Tracy could recognize swearing even if he didn’t understand the language. “Well, let’s hope when we arrive we find out the men were all out preparing their defenses.” Sukarno waved his hands over his head. “Forget that. The last thing we want is a pitched battle. It always makes the initial annexation that much harder.”
“By sheer luck we will have in orbit the two ships with women aboard and one of them is the Infanta,” Tracy offered. “Having her on the negotiating team might make this go more smoothly. Assuming it is what I fear.”
“Good thought, Belmanor. Send Lieutenant Delacroix up to see me. I’ll notify the captain that we need a conference.”
Tracy saluted and left.
* * *
The admiral and Vink were greeting the Triunfo’s captain. Behind the admiral and the flag captain were a gaggle of lower-ranked officers. The Concepción’s gaggle had already been in place on the flight deck when the shuttle from the battle cruiser arrived. The prerogative of Admiral Duque Kartirci dictated that the captain of the Triunfo come to them.
Captain Marquis de Vilbiss’s group was dribbling down the gangway of their shuttle. Cipriana was among them and Mercedes wanted to squeal and bounce like a schoolgirl when she saw her. As to why Cipriana was among the Triunfo’s delegation she couldn’t say. Then her breath stopped in her throat, for Tracy was with them. Standing next to a rather piratical-looking older man whose insignia indicated he was a commander. Boho, standing next to her, stiffened when he noticed the tailor’s son. Tracy glanced up. His eyes met hers and then he looked down at his tap-pad and didn’t look up again.
The captain and the admiral completed their greetings then the pirate and Tracy joined them. There was more hurried conversation. Boho leaned down and grumbled, “Why is that jumped-up intitulado included in that conversation?” It was clearly rhetorical so Mercedes didn’t bother answering.
Vink turned and locked eyes with Mercedes. “Captain-Lieutenant Princess, if you will please join us in the admiral’s conference room.” He raked the rest of the welcoming party with a look. “The rest of you are dismissed.”
“What? Wait. Shouldn’t I be there?” Boho asked.
Vink glanced over at the admiral. “He is the consort.”
“Yes, yes, I suppose he should be present,” Kartirci said.
To Mercedes’ surprise Tracy and Cipriana were part of the group that moved off toward the elevators. Mercedes managed to fall into step with Cipriana. She gave a cautious glance at the three top officers, but they were deep in conversation. She leaned in and whispered, “I’m so glad to see you.”
“Me too.” Cipriana’s tone was flat and a shadow lay deep in her eyes. Mercedes frowned and studied her friend. Cipriana had lost that impish sparkle that had, even more than her astounding beauty, been her most defining feature.
“Is everything all right?” Mercedes whispered. Cipriana just shook her head, though whether it was an answer or an indication she didn’t want to say Mercedes couldn’t tell.
The top brass took the first elevator, which left Cipriana, Mercedes, Boho, the commander and Tracy riding together in the second car. Boho and Tracy were on opposite sides of the elevator trying to put as much distance between each other as possible. Tension fluttered in Mercedes’ chest. Cipriana glanced from one man to the other then leaned in and whispered in tones more like her old self, “Awkward.”
It was unbearable. Mercedes decided to take command. She held out her hand to the commander. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
He bowed over her hand. “Commander Anusanatha Sukarno.” He indicated Tracy. “My adjutant, Captain-Lieutenant Thracius Belmanor.”
Boho reacted at the rank. Mercedes could read his mind. He was still just a first lieutenant. She studied the white scar at Tracy’s left temple. She thanked God the two men weren’t on the same ship. If they had been there was no doubt her husband would try to give Tracy another.
“The captain-lieutenant and I are already acquainted. We were classmates at the High Ground.”
Tracy snapped to attention, then gave her a court bow. “Highness.” When he straightened she could see the anger and betrayal in those amazing grey eyes.
He hates me.
He has cause.
* * *
“We’re going to send two girls to negotiate?” Vink’s tones of incredulity had Mercedes digging her nails into her palms. “And one of them the heir to the throne,” he added rather belatedly. “Forgive me, Admiral, but this is madness.” Mercedes thought it was to Captain de Vilbiss’s credit that he maintained his cool smile in the face of Vink’s disdain. “And do we have any proof that this mad—” Vink gestured at the history entries that hung in the air over the center of the table “—theory is even correct?”
They were all gathered in the admiral’s conference room. Kartirci’s Hajin batBEM brought in an assortment of finger sandwiches and pastries, served tea and coffee, bowed and withdrew.
“Have you heard a single male voice?” the Triunfo’s XO asked. Sukarno was frowning at Vink with an expression that was rather more dismissive than was proper from a commander toward a flag captain.
“Whether this theory is in fact the truth is beside the point. I don’t think it’s proper for my wife to take this kind of risk,” Boho said.
He’s just reduced me to merely his wife, Mercedes thought and once again her nails bit into her palms. Or perhaps he’s not trying to diminish me, but is honestly worried.
Tracy gave voice to her troubled thoughts. “She’s not just your wife, Cullen. She’s the heir to the Solar League. And if this is a society of women, what better person to make the appeal that they join the League than its future female ruler?” It was all very logical but Mercedes suspected his full-throated defense had more to do with Tracy’s animus toward Boho than realpolitik.
“Not that it’s going to be so much of an appeal as a politely phrased demand,” Captain de Vilbiss murmured. “But I see your point, Captain-Lieutenant.”
Admiral Kartirci’s gaze flicked from person to person. He looked faintly bewildered, and once again Mercedes had the uncomfortable feeling that perhaps the old man was no longer totally in control and abdicating far too much of his authority to his flag captain. She glanced over at Cipriana who had remained silent through all of the discussions even though any plan would involve her as well. Cipriana gave her a tiny nod. Encouragement or merely acknowledgment? Mercedes assumed it was the former.
She decided it was well past time they let her speak. “I don’t wish to be presumptuous, but I fill dual roles. There is my rank as a military officer but I’m also the representative for the crown and by extension my father. I think the preponderance of the evidence does support the theory that this is a female-centric society.” She glanced around the table. “It hasn’t gone unnoticed that many of the worlds we’ve annexed have contained societies that are… are…” She paused, looking for a polite way to phrase it.
Sukarno stepped in, saying dryly, “Riding particular hobby horses?”
“Both political and societal,” Mercedes agreed.
“Trying to create nostalgic visions of societies that never really existed,” de Vilbiss added.
“Well then there’ll be a lot of new women to be wives and mothers,” Kartirci said archly, and bit into a sandwich. As an attempt at humor it failed. Everyone else at the table looked grim or worried.
“If they have perfected parthenogenesis that puts them in violation of League laws regarding genetic engineering,” Tracy said.
“Disgusting,” Vink muttered.
“The Minister of Justice will have to handle that,” Mercedes said. “But the people… women on the planet can’t be held responsible for violating a law they didn’t know existed. They’ll just have to obey it going forward.”
“It’s a harsh world, barely acceptable for colonization. We can make their lives a good deal easier,” Captain de Vilbiss said.
“We should do th
em the courtesy of sending a delegation of top officers,” Admiral Kartirci said. “Captain de Vilbiss, I presume your XO is as competent as Vink here. I suggest that you and I accompany the ladies.”
“With respect, sir, I should be there as well,” Boho said.
“No.” The vehemence of the word startled Mercedes even as she uttered it, and her teacup rattled in its saucer. She softened her tone and said, “If you’re there and introduced as my husband it undercuts my authority and they need to think I’m their equal and… unattached.”
She heard Tracy at the same time say under his breath, “Unencumbered.”
“I think we should have Belmanor as well,” de Vilbiss said. “After all he’s the one who’s done all the research. Save someone else having to learn all this.”
“What about the padres?” Kartirci asked. “They’re going to want to go.”
Mercedes knew the admiral’s faith was deep and real, but there was something in the request that niggled at her. She also really didn’t want Jose in the party watching her, making her self-conscious, and prepared to report everything back to his father.
De Vilbiss spoke up. “We don’t know their religious beliefs. We could offend without meaning to. This discussion is going to be rough enough without adding theological debates.” Mercedes nodded with approval. Her estimation of the Triunfo’s captain was rising by the minute.
“To back up these… discussions there should be a squad of fusileros from both ships. Not enough to seem threatening but enough to make the point,” Vink said. He turned to Mercedes. “The transports will arrive in four days. You just need to keep them talking for that long, Princess.”
16
GOOD NEWS! THE LEAGUE IS HERE
Radio contact had been formally made. The flagship had made the hail in Español and got back a response in Inglés. It was a widely used language favored in business and law, and most League citizens spoke both. They settled on Inglés as the default. The women on the planet were still a bit hard to understand. The accents were strange with long drawling vowels and mushy consonants. Tracy wondered how long ago they had left Earth. There had clearly been a lot of language drift on the part of the League. Linguists were going to have a field day studying a language that hadn’t changed significantly for almost five hundred years. Tracy had a sudden sharp childhood memory of arriving on Reichart’s World. He didn’t recall the language seeming strange to him.
The three shuttles were instructed to land at an airbase near the city of Amastris. One shuttle contained Mercedes, Cipriana, Captain de Vilbiss, the admiral, the two adjutants to the top officers, and Tracy. The other larger shuttles, one from each ship, carried the fusileros. Tracy studied Mercedes. She was biting at the corner of her lower lip and staring off into space. It meant she was nervous and thinking hard. Tracy smiled, remembering. She began to spin the elaborate wedding set on her left ring finger and his pleasure at seeing her evaporated. She drew in a quick breath and pulled off the ring and tucked it into a pocket.
They entered the atmosphere. A nimbus of fire surrounded the shuttle. The pilot used both drag and the rockets to slow their descent. Mercedes looked up and shot the pilot a sharp glance. Once again Tracy smiled. He knew what she was thinking—that she could have flown the shuttle better. Her eyes briefly met his and she beckoned to him. Startled he moved to her side.
“This is my private scoop number,” she said softly and touched her ring. “Just in case we should get separated. In an emergency you know you could… should use it.”
“Thank you. I won’t abuse the privilege.” They touched their rings together and he returned to his seat.
The sharp peaks of ice and snow-covered mountains rose up around them. The shuttle was buffeted by wild and erratic winds. Snow blew across the canopy and withdrew as if massive white shutters were being opened and closed. Fortunately the pilot had locked onto a homing beacon and was making an instrument landing. There were a few more wild tips and swoops and then they were flying down the length of a deep valley, the mountains to either side like grey and white fortress walls.
They had a brief glimpse of dwellings dug into the canyon walls. Beneath them were clear domes where crops were growing. The blinking orange lights of the airfield beckoned them. The shuttle hovered, dancing on blazing jets, and slowly dropped in to land. The other two shuttles settled in moments later.
The engines whined into silence. Tracy listened to the wind’s mournful wail outside and the pock of snow against the canopy.
“I’m betting they’ve perfected the sauna,” Cipriana said, breaking the silence and the tension. Chuckles ran through the cabin.
They stood and pulled on the winter parkas that the quartermaster had provided for them. “Remember,” Mercedes said. “Let Cipriana and me do the talking until we get a feel for the society.”
They waited for the call from the commander of the fusileros before they allowed the door to cycle open. The ramp extended and Tracy saw that the fusileros were in place to either side of the ramp. As Mercedes appeared at the top of the ramp they smacked the butts of their rifles against the ground, and took up parade rest positions. The League officers walked down to greet the three women who waited for them.
One was very young. To Tracy’s eye she looked to be in her late teens and she was a bit plump. Next to her stood a woman in her forties, heavyset and solid. Tracy could feel the reason for a bit of padding. He was shivering despite the parka and the windblown snow stung his cheeks.
The final woman was very elderly. Tendrils of white hair blew across her face, pulled loose from a bun coiled at the nape of her neck. The trio were also flanked by soldiers but theirs were all women. They carried old-style pulse rifles plugged into a power deck at their waist. The League had abandoned the rifles almost three hundred years ago. The power packs were prone to overheat and shut down the gun’s ability to fire. In worst case the packs sometimes exploded, taking out a soldier’s hip or gut.
Tracy noted that the women forming the welcoming committee looked only at Mercedes and Cipriana. The only women eyeing the men were the soldiers and they didn’t look friendly, though in the case of the younger ones there was also evident curiosity.
The old woman spoke. “Welcome to Sinope.”
She extended both hands toward Mercedes and Cipriana.
Mercedes stepped forward and offered her hands. “Thank you. We are happy to have found you.”
“I am Melodia Kristin Olmsdahl’s Datter.”
“Lieutenant Princess Mercedes Adalina Saturnina Inez de Arango, the Infanta.”
The three Sinopians exchanged glances. “A monarchy,” the matronly woman said. “How quaint.” Everyone on the League side stiffened.
“It’s a constitutional monarchy with a parliament,” Cipriana said. To Tracy’s ears it sounded defensive.
Once again glances were exchanged, and the old lady gave a discreet cough. She indicated the middle-aged woman. “Virginia Lily Nielsen’s Datter and Amelia Christina Mamaroni’s Datter. We are the governing authority for the colony.”
“My associate, Lieutenant Lady Cipriana Delacroix.” Mercedes then went on to introduce the officers, stressing their titles. When she got to Tracy and his lack of a title he found three pairs of eyes suddenly focused on him. He bowed to the three women and they exchanged glances.
“Let us get you out of the cold,” the youngest woman said and with a graceful sweep of the arm she indicated the cliff behind her. There was a door set into the rock, and windows had been carved out. The light from the windows was butter-gold and warm against the blowing white snow.
The entire crowd shuffled into motion and headed inside. Tracy hurried forward and fell into step with Mercedes. “This appears to be a political entity based on a neo-pagan concept of a triple goddess,” he said softly in Mercedes’ ear. “Maiden, mother and crone.”
“A hobby horse indeed.” She shook her head then added, “Who holds the most authority?”
“Damned i
f I know… Your Highness,” he belatedly added.
“Make a guess,” she whispered back as they stepped out of the wind.
“The old lady, I guess. With age comes wisdom?”
They found themselves in a large anteroom with curving chairs made of white plastic. On the far side of the room were large doors that judging from the placement led deeper into the cliff.
“The males can wait here guarded by our troops,” the middle-aged woman said.
“That is unacceptable.” Mercedes had drawn herself up to her full, impressive height. “In the League there are no second-class citizens. I will not treat my shipmates and fellow officers with such contempt solely because of their gender.” What an empress she will be, Tracy thought and the gulf between them widened even further. “I will leave my soldiers with your troops, but my fellow officers will join us.”
The three women went into a huddle. The old woman said, “We agree, but tell your males to be respectful. Our daughters have never dealt with their sex.”
There were murmurs from the League troops, which earned them flat, almost hostile stares from the female soldiers. The next room was warmer and more sumptuously furnished in that the chairs had padding and the walls were hung with heavy woven tapestries. The scenes depicted in colored thread were beautiful and seemed to detail the story of the ravaged Earth and the colony’s flight. The conference table in the center of the room was stone.
Not a lot of usable wood on this planet, Tracy thought as he settled into one of the chairs set against the wall. He found himself between Captain de Vilbiss and the admiral. Mercedes glanced back at him.
“I would like Captain-Lieutenant Belmanor to join me. It was he who did the research that indicated you were a matriarchal society.”
Tracy didn’t wait for permission. He took the chair to Mercedes’ left. Cipriana, seated to her right, leaned back and gave him a speaking glance. He was pretty sure he understood because sitting this close to Mercedes he could see the subtle trembling in her fingers, and beneath her perfume was the musky scent of sweat. He was sweating too. So much could go wrong in the next few moments or the next few days. On a very personal level Mercedes had been given an enormous amount of authority while under the eye of a fleet admiral. Reports on her performance would undoubtedly be sent back to the capital and whispered through the fleet.
In Evil Times Page 16