Galatzi World (Galatzi Trade Book 2)

by Robin Roseau

  "You can't do this to me!"

  "Or you can stand trial. I imagine it will be on Tarriton, which at least eliminates the need for a lawyer to come to you. Tarriton is filled with lawyers. At this trial, I will seek to do exactly what I just said, but then I will also seek to have you denied from ever again receiving another rejuvenation treatment. Without The Empire paying for it, I doubt you could afford it. You will do what comes naturally to our bodies. You will grow old and die."

  Cecilia paused. "If you honestly did nothing, then go ahead. Fight me. But if you're guilty, and you certainly know whether you are, then I strongly encourage you to take my first offer. Colonel Blue, take my prisoner away. We'll let her decide what she wishes to do while she sits in your brig."

  They had her halfway to the door before Delilah said, "Wait!" They kept going, but Cecilia then said, "Colonel Blue, let's see what she has to say."

  They turned her around. And then we all waited.

  "I'll take the therapy," she said in a small voice. "But no confession."

  "No deal. I need the confession to make damned sure you never pull this shit again."

  "I promise," she whined.

  "Your promises are worthless," Cecilia said. "You can't even keep tiny promises, much less one this important. I want the full weight of the law hanging over your neck if you step one toe out of line again. My offer is not negotiable. Sartine, do you believe we could arrange to have a few of the elderly visit her in the brig so she knows what she has to look forward to?"

  "I'm sure we can arrange something."

  "Take her away, if you would, Colonel Blue."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  They turned for the door.

  "Wait!"

  Cecilia sighed. "This grows tedious. Now what?"

  They turned her around again. "I didn't hurt anyone! Why are you doing this to me?"

  "You didn't hurt anyone?" Cecilia screeched. She advanced on Delilah, but she pointed towards me. "That woman is one of the sweetest, loveliest, kindest, most welcoming women I have ever met. She is intelligent and funny. She loves quickly and deeply. Holding her feels at least as good as holding a warm, loving puppy dog, but she's twice as trusting. I let you come here so you could meet her, so you could see what true decency and kindness was. I let you come here to give you a chance to be the sort of person you could be. And what do you do? You drug her. You take her will from her so you can have a complacent playmate that can't say 'no' when you ask her to do things she would never, ever, ever do out of love. You disgust me. The only reason I am willing to make any offer at all to you is because in spite of everything, she begged me not to hurt you. Well, I'm giving you a chance, but if you're too stupid to take it, then it's your fault. Again."

  Delilah stared at her for a moment then lowered her eyes. "Confession. Rejuvenation. Don't do it again. That's all. No jail. I may have other rejuvenation treatment."

  "Yes. That's the deal I am offering. You may have future treatments, anything you can afford that is available from a reputable clinic on Centos Four or similar system. Agree now, or when they roll back this disgusting enhancement after your trial, I'll have them roll back all your enhancements. As I recall, you once had buck teeth and stringy hair."

  Someone scoffed, but he was shushed.

  "I want an agreement in writing, on real paper," Delilah said, "with your signature."

  "Of course. Colonel Blue, please take care of this."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  They led her from the room. The door closed, and Cecilia slumped.

  "Go to her," I said to Sartine. She nodded and handed me into the nearest set of waiting arms: Christianna's. She held me tightly, and then Sartine pulled Cecilia to her.

  "God, I hate this shit. This is why I came to someplace like Talmon. They don't do things like that here!"

  "You're tough, great-grandmama," said the girl who had helped tease me about phone calls. "You kicked her ass."

  "I didn't want to have to," Cecilia said. "Savannah, I'm sorry."

  "I'm not. Thank you, Cecilia. You did what I couldn't."

  I pushed away from Christianna and went to Cecilia, still in Sartine's arms. I moved against them both, and Sartine added an arm around me.

  "I'm so sorry, honey," Cecilia said. I put my fingers over her lips. Then I squeezed them both and stepped away. I turned to Christianna.

  "You were a lawyer and an imperial governor."

  "This is true. Both were long ago."

  "You also are wise and trusted."

  She inclined her head.

  I turned to Cecilia. "You are our Governor. You are also wise and trusted."

  "Sometimes I'm not sure trusting me is wise."

  "I'm always sure," I said. I turned to look at Sartine. "You are one of the most respected vendarti on the planet."

  "I am a vendart," she agreed. "I would not comment on the respect I am offered."

  "My father is also a respected vendart, and I frequently act as his voice. And I say right now, I never want someone with that ability setting foot on the planet again." I turned back to Christianna. "She can do that, right?" I pointed to Cecilia.

  "She can try," Christianna said. "She can make it illegal. She can also make it illegal to do what Delilah did to you, making it far easier to cut off before it gets out of hand. But it isn't practical to test everyone who comes to visit to make sure the person does not have this type of enhancement, or others that are somewhat more subtle."

  "Is this a law that the vendarti should pass, or a law that the Governor should pass?"

  "Both."

  "But carefully," Cecilia said. "The Talmon law should direct enforcement to The Empire. Frankly, Talmon is not equipped to handle it, and I want The Empire involved so the consequences can be enforced everywhere."

  I turned back to her. "Am I going to be here to see this through?"

  "No, Darling, you are not."

  "Then you two," and I pointed between her and Sartine, "will take care of it. Promise."

  "We promise," said Sartine.

  "Damned right we promise," added Cecilia.

  I looked at the table. "Our food is cold," I said in a small voice. "And I didn't arrange alcohol for tonight. I could really use a beer." I looked around and I found the man who had teased me about whiskey. "Or perhaps this single malt you talked about."

  He smiled. "I found one. It's actually quite good. There's a bottle in my room."

  "It's stew," said August. "Stew is every bit as good if you warm it back up. Especially if there is more of the bread."

  "We'll take care of it."

  "And you," said Cecilia, "probably need a good cry."

  She was right. I started with the good cry and let them handle everything else.

  I Can Fly

  Christianna adopted me, after a fashion. As Cecila's assistant, I was already part of the inner circle, and I could invite myself almost everywhere she went. No one would have gainsaid me. But I had been remaining aloof so the family could enjoy their time together without a hanger-on.

  But Christianna changed that. She insisted I attend events alongside them, treating me like she might one of her daughters -- or how she treated Sartine. And so, other than the day they all went sailing on the harbor, an activity I was sure to hate, I did almost everything with them that they did.

  It had kept me busy.

  I didn't spend every minute with them. Savannah's son and Delilah's uncle, Arthur, was a flight instructor. While Delilah had me wrapped around her finger, my mind clouded, I wasn't in any condition to undergo flight training; she probably wouldn't have released me long enough for lessons anyway. But now she was gone away on Darkside. During a lull between all the frantic events, Cecilia invited me to her bungalow after breakfast.

  And that was when she told me that Arthur was a flight instructor and had agreed to remain on Talmon "for a while" to teach some of the Talmonese how to fly a jumper.

  "Have you met Mordain?"

  "Yes," h
e said. "She's a good student." His voice was rich and deep, and he had a fit body with chiseled features. He was a real man's man, but I would learn that he was also an utter gentleman.

  I would grow to like him a great deal.

  "Chaladine, everything is handled," said Cecilia. "Our events are mapped out. There are details to manage, and things always come up, but you can begin to relax a little. So, I want you to focus on this. You'll have a lesson with Arthur at least once a day, and perhaps twice a day, and there is a great deal of study to do. I've sent the materials to your tablet. As Arthur is your instructor, he cannot serve as your examiner, and so I want you ready when Darkside comes back. Colonel Blue will issue examinations for you, Sartine, and Mordain at that time. You have six weeks."

  "Six weeks?" I said. "It only took a couple of hours to learn to drive the ground craft."

  Arthur smiled. "You already knew how to drive a carriage. They aren't that different, discounting the type of locomotion. A jumper is a much different creature."

  "I will also say this: I require special instruction for flying in the mountains here, and an extra examination. Mordain does not immediately need to fly in and out of Indartha, but you do."

  "Ah, Indartha," Arthur said. He shook his head. "Aunt Cecilia, I can't believe you're letting civilians fly in and out of there."

  "You can thank Colonel Blue for that. If she could get Darkside in there, I was determined to get a jumper in."

  Arthur turned to me. "The materials include a plan of study. I expect some of the English to be difficult for you. We will go over everything at the beginning of each lesson. There are words we assume everyone knows, so at first it may be frustrating. Mordain had a hard time with it, and we discovered she learned best if she studied while I was available for questions. We can make arrangements if that is necessary for you."

  "That's very generous," I said.

  "Aunt Cecilia has explained her challenges here and has asked me to help." He smiled again. "It's good to be back to instructing. It's been a while."

  "I'll take a look at the material."

  The material was hard, and it took me hours to get through it each day. I would prepare for my lesson as best I could, then Arthur and I went over everything. I asked questions, and then he tested my knowledge, usually covering not only the day's assignment, but also questions from past days, ensuring I hadn't forgotten anything.

  It was a great deal to learn.

  I'll never forget the first lesson. The resort had a small field for jumpers, and so we walked over. Sitting at the edge of the field were several jumpers, including a small one I hadn't seen before. "Whose is that?"

  "That's the trainer," he said. "It's a standard configuration with the basics. The range is short, only 250 kilometers. Now, I want you to walk around and tell me what everything is and what it does."

  That was in the material I had studied. I struggled over the pronunciation of some of the words, but he helped with that. I forgot a few names, and there were a few items whose purpose I didn't fully understand. We went over everything, a lesson we would do periodically over the next weeks.

  "Open it up," he said. "Let's climb in."

  The orbital craft I'd seen all had a ramp, usually in their tail. But the different models of jumpers each had their own method of entry. The biggest were like the orbital craft; you entered at the rear or perhaps a large door in the side. A few of the smaller ones had doors on either side, similar to a carriage door.

  This one had a clear glass dome covering the passenger area. When I palmed the open panel, the dome opened by slowly flipping backwards. And then from the side of the craft, a single step extended. There was a handle I could grab. And so, getting in was similar, after a fashion, to mounting a horse, although you didn't sit astride it, but instead on comfortable seats inside, with both passengers sitting side-by-side.

  I headed for the right side, the passenger side, but Arthur stopped me. "Where are you going?"

  "To get in. Isn't that what we're doing?"

  He smiled. "The pilot sits on the left."

  "You're the pilot."

  "You're the pilot. I'm the instructor. Left side, Chaladine."

  "I'm... I'm the pilot?"

  "You're the pilot," he agreed.

  It was a heady realization.

  I climbed in on my side, and he climbed in on his. He helped me adjust my seat, and then we both buckled in. "Test the fit once more," he said. "Your feet need to be able to reach the pedals at their full range of motion." I tried that and nodded. "And you need to be able to reach most of the panel in front of us." I shifted around, indicating my range of motion. "Good. Perfect. Now, tell me what you see."

  I described everything. "This is like the control on the ground craft," I said, indicating a lever I could work with my left hand.

  "That's right, although you'll notice it moves in more directions. All right, start it up, and we'll go over more."

  We did that. Then he said, "All right. Tell me about the weather."

  "The weather?"

  "Clouds, wind, rain, snow, fog..."

  "Oh. I see. It's a nice day. There are a few clouds. It's not very windy."

  "All right. Now I need you to be far more precise."

  I didn't understand what he wanted. We stared at each other for ten seconds. Then he smiled. "Mordain had this same problem. I haven't figured out what to do about it yet. Students from a place like Centos Four are accustomed to checking their tablets or implants for every little piece of information. You are accustomed to using your eyes. That's actually good, because it means you're more likely to watch where you're going instead of checking your tablet or watching the screens constantly. But in front of you is an amazing amount of information."

  "Including precise weather information."

  "Exactly. Can you find it?"

  Most of the panel was one big tablet, although arranged in groups of screens, some the size of my tablet, two bigger, the rest smaller. I eyed all of them for a moment then said, "This one?"

  "Yes. Good. Can you find the weather?"

  I tapped it, tapped it again, then said, "Yes."

  "Wind?"

  "Seven kilometers per hour."

  "From what direction?"

  I stared. "I don't know."

  "Do you know how to use a compass?"

  "Yes."

  "It's a compass heading," he said. "This number."

  "Oh. This is the direction it's blowing? The wind here is normally from the northwest."

  "This is the direction it's blowing from," he said.

  "Ah. 320 degrees. From the northwest."

  "Yes. When we launch, we launch into the wind. If the wind is seven kilometers per hour from 320 degrees, and we want to use the runway, where do we start?"

  "That way is northwest," I said, pointing. "So we go to that end of the runway."

  "How do you know that's northwest?"

  "Um. Because the sun is there, and it's still early afternoon. And the coast is there."

  He smiled. "Okay, fair enough. If it were night, and you were turned around, not sure which way we were facing, what would you do?"

  "Check the stars."

  He laughed. "There are high clouds, hiding them."

  "Um. Get out and reorient myself."

  "You've never been here before, and you don't recognize a thing."

  "You don't want me using local features to answer."

  "No. I want you to let the aircraft tell you."

  "There's a compass somewhere, isn't there?" And he nodded. "Okay, now I feel a little stupid."

  "Don't. Those are all good answers. It's good to be able to answer that way, because then if the compass tells you something unexpected, you know to ask yourself, 'what is wrong?' Sometimes equipment is wrong. It's rare, but if something doesn't make sense, you want to check it."

  I looked around. "Compass."

  "Good. Point out the other basics." So I did. "This shows how high we are, but it's
wrong. It says were thirty meters, but.." I looked over the side. "We're only a half meter high."

  "It's calibrated to the level of the ocean."

  "Oh. I see. So in the mountains-"

  "You'll be on the ground but it might say three thousand meters. You need to know how high the mountains are to avoid flying into them."

  "Ah, and that's part of the reason we're doing this here instead of at Indartha."

  He laughed. "Yes. A small part."

  We went over a few more things, then he said, "On the ground, it drives just like the ground craft. Take us to the end o the runway. Leave the dome up for now; the air feels good. We'll close it shortly."

  I drove cautiously; I always drove cautiously, a fact that wasn't likely to change any time soon. I got us to the far end of the runway, pointed up into the wind. We ran a few final diagnostics, and then Arthur said, "I'll launch us, then you'll take over. Close the dome."

  I did, and I saw the steps retracted into the sides as well. Once the dome closed tight, and the little light said it was fully latched, he said, "Here we go." And then a minute later he said, "All right, Chaladine. A very light hand. Take the controls. Small motions. To go straight, you don't need to do a thing."

  We flew straight for a while. Then we did some turns. We climbed, we descended. We climbed while turning, then descended while turning.

  I couldn't stop smiling.

  I did the landing. I did the landing. I did the landing!

  We came to a stop, and Arthur said, "Are you as done in as you look?"

  Grinning, I nodded to him.

  "I'll get us parked," he said.

  Afterwards, he invited me to the little bar we had beside the resort's pool. We each got something to drink then sat at a table. We went over the flight. "I thought we'd get to know each other a little more."

  So we talked back and forth for a while. Finally, I asked him, "How long have you been a flight instructor? You said you've been away from it for a while."

  He smiled. "I went into the military immediately after University. Do you understand?"

  "University is a school for adults."

  "Right. I was twenty-one. Do you know the word war?" I didn't, so he explained.