by Alex Kirko
This was as close as he dared to get to calling his supporters a bunch of wailing children. If Samuel Gallows had been here . . . Unfortunately, the tree-loving hermit didn’t bother showing up today—he rarely did.
“Moira,” Kyle said. “How soon can we turn Seind into an asset?”
“The people are scared, Count. Until we get them to trust us, it will be a thousand of us and eight hundred thousand potential enemies. And most of my soldiers are Crawlers. They aren't good at keeping citizens calm.”
“Why don’t we simply keep what we need to resupply and level the rest?” asked Ukan Buckthorn. Ukan’s dark yellow whiskers twitched, and a web of silver scars shifted between bizarre patterns when the Freefolk Ascended rolled his shoulders—plasma burns from when he had lost his son during the first war. “You know we don’t have the resources to manage another populated city right now.”
Buckthorn’s ideas were like palaces of ice. Every time Kyle followed Ukan's advice, he ended up in front of a puddle.
“Why don’t we just tear heads off their children and hose the cameras with their blood. That’s bound to get us the same rep with less work,” said Burl.
Kyle glanced at the man who was drumming his metal fingers on the table. When Ukan glared at him, burl just checked the weapons installed into the arms of his scarlet assault mech. The whizzing of plasma discharges filled the room, and Ukan found something fascinating on his nails. Burl was probably glad to be stuck in his suit. Without it, he was a potato-nosed shrimp.
“Gentlemen, please,” said Kyle. “If we treat the citizens worse than the Council did, it will be a disaster. The only reason this rebellion hasn’t been crushed is because the public doesn’t care. Now imagine what would happen if the whole planet hated us.”
Madeline Hayes, a bespectacled stork of a woman, looked at him from behind steepled fingers. She said, “You have made promises to us, Mister Heatsworth. We are moving into Seind.”
“If you are letting the Pleasure House Association in, then the Crafter’s Guild demands the same rights,” said Peter Thatch. He tapped a few buttons on his personal assistant, and a graph appeared above the table. “Our turnover is going flat. We need to expand the market.”
“Nobody is moving into my city until things are under control here,” said Moira.
“Your city?” asked Madeline, jutting out her chin. “It belongs to the Federation.”
Kyle filtered them out and let everyone bicker for a minute.
He remembered an evening. He and Audrey were sitting on the porch sipping tangy Ble’Wing tea. The setting sun turned her auburn hair into a waterfall of liquid fire. Audrey argued that humanity was stuck because all true conflict was gone, and planetary governments only imitated dispute. Kyle said it was irreverence for history that was killing the galaxy. The people didn’t want to know anything about the Old Earth or even about the other planets out there. All the power of human intellect was focused on ensuring stability.
The planet he had been born on was like that, as were most planets he had visited. He would be damned if he let the same thing happen to Terra Nox, which was why the Federation didn’t have an absolute ruler. At meetings like these he wished it did.
“Enough,” Kyle said. “Moira is right, we cannot send in the crafters and your people, Madeline.”
“But—”
“Burl, I need you to move a third of your forces to Seind. Mech troops will be able to maintain order better than the our Ascended. People are more used to them.”
Burl’s face was concealed by his helmet, as was true for all the sealed soldiers, but a brief flash of red light ran through the coolant pipes along his jawbone. He nodded.
Kyle continued, “Moira, prepare the accommodations. We’ll station two teams of six in every residential super-block. You should also set up patrols. Nearly ten percent of the enemy Ascended forces fled into the city when they saw they wouldn’t win. We need to find them.”
Burl said, “It would help if we got some Council mechs intact. Weapons would be good too. The Council is ready to throw its soldiers under the grav-truck whenever it gets them a slight advantage. We can use that to capture enemy pilots.”
“What about the self-destruct?” asked Kyle. “Mister Thatch?”
“The Guild could whip something up, Count,” said the engineer leader. “Council plasma weapons are made to burn through armor and flesh once they pierce the shields.” He pulled up a standard plasma cutter on the holographic projector in the center of the table. “But plasma is a conductor. If we make a weapon with two plasma blades and place electrodes at the base of each one, it could work.”
“Wouldn’t the electrodes burn?” asked Kyle.
“Not if we use a tungsten alloy and lower the plasma temperature around it, Count. We don’t need the blade as hot as it usually is if we won’t be burning through assault mech armor in half a second. Of course, this won’t replace normal weapons and won’t always fry the self-destruct. No matter what we do, disabling mech systems or shocking Ascended into unconsciousness with electricity will take more time than burning a hole through the skull.”
Kyle said, “Lankershire has stores of assassin-class weapons, but we have nothing heavier. And getting more trained soldiers for the front lines can only help us. I want your people on this immediately.”
Thatch said, “As you say, Count. Now about expanding our operations to Seind? I hear their industrial district is almost empty now that half the city has fled.”
“Missis Hayes, Mister Thatch. I want you to send your best instructors into the city to start recruitment and get the buzz going. No more than ten from each of your organizations. We want the citizens to acclimatize before we make radical changes.” He looked around the table. Nobody was happy, but there were no complaints, which was what a political victory looked like. “Everything is decided then. Moira, Burl, please stay.”
While everyone was leaving, Kyle called Samuel Gallows. His hologram flickered into life in his chair just as Madeline and Peter left. The Count tried to massage the kinks out of his neck, but it didn’t work well. His life seemed to be all stress after the rebellion started.
“Moira, always a pleasure. How is your Ascension holding up?” Gallows asked Moira’s hologram.
“I keep waking up and finding parts of my body expand to their normal size. Very uncomfortable.”
“An ugly Sister,” said Burl. “There is a first.”
“Hello, General,” said Gallows. “Moira, you should come to Hazy Meadows when you have the time. We need to work on your control. Did you need something, Heatsworth?”
Kyle said, “Greetings, Master of the Hunt. Have you considered joining our discussions instead of Buckthorn?”
“Stupid title,” said Burl.
Gallows frowned and said, “I’ve earned it during the hundreds of years I’ve guided young Ascended on their hunts. Where did you get yours, General? Right, given by the Council you are now fighting.” He turned back to Kyle. “And no, Count Heatsworth. You know better than to try to rope me into your council meetings.”
“We don’t call it that.”
“You can call a rhincar a kitten, but it will still gut you and eat you when given the chance. I don’t mind commanding the Freefolk forces, but all of us hate the Council and their kind of politics. Ukan was the only one who agreed. He is not happy with any of you, by the way. I suggest you listen to him sometimes.”
“Have you ever tried that?” asked Moira.
“A few times,” he said. “It’s why I sent him to you. Now what is this about? I have an extraction to plan.”
If only Kyle could relax, he would be able to ask the question with the tone and posture it demanded. Rubbing his neck with a grimace wasn’t how a leader was supposed to appear before his allies and subjects.
Samuel said, “Heatsworth?”
“How fast can you train one of our Ascended?” asked Kyle.
“We’ve discussed this, Count. Work out the issue
s with your process, and then we’ll talk.”
It seemed like everyone called him ‘Count’ when they wanted to antagonize him. He said, “It’s not that bad.”
Gallows stared at him. “Have you seen your Crawlers? Ninety percent of people who go through your procedure end up not being to walk normally. I’m fine with teaching volunteers who knew what they were getting into from the start. I’m not fine with you forcing people into this in any way.”
“But Secondary Ascension—”
“Had one success. Moira.” Gallows sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Look, I understand. This is war. But if we twist our people into monsters against their will, then we are no better than the Council.”
“Don’t worry, Heatsworth,” said Burl. “My boys will take care of everything while the tree-huggers sit it out.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” said Kyle.
“We might be able to help you speed things along, Heatsworth,” said Gallows. “One of lead Council engineers—Blake Drummond—wandered into our territory a few days back, and he is willing to help us.”
“Why is this the first time I’m hearing of this?”
“I sent you a report, it’s not my fault you appointed your right hand to govern a city. In any case, we now have a solid chance to steal that Mortenton regeneration chamber. Drummond’s back is broken, and he has a lot of injuries. Mei says only Old Earth technology can heal him.”
“I thought you had a solid chance before.”
Gallows waved a hand in dismissal. “We had enough of a chance to try. I suggest you order Katherine Lind to prepare the facilities. The heist is in a week.”
“Drummond,” said Moira. “He was my sister’s partner. I want to talk to him.”
Kyle considered her request for a moment before shaking his head. “Not until he helps us steal the box and does whatever else we can convince him to help us with. I'm sorry, but you are irrational when it comes to your family, Moira. I won’t have this cost us.”
“I need to find her.”
Kyle sighed. This was like having teenage children again. He said, “I’m confident she is still in Seind. The sensors would have flagged her if she tried to leave. It’s your city now, so finding her is on you. Just make sure you search on your own time.”
Fifteen minutes later they wrapped up the meeting, and he went to look for Yvonne. Moira had a kind heart in that monstrous shell. The body had been her choice, though, so Kyle didn’t feel sorry at least about that.
He had tried calling the eldest Sister, but she wasn’t picking up. There was only one place where Yvonne would ignore everything, so Kyle headed there. The hallways of the castle were as narrow and deserted as ever. The rough grey stone all around him was artificial, but the atmosphere of oppression it created was real enough, and it didn't disperse no matter how many lights he installed. Even after years, they were still discovering hidden rooms full of torture devices and unidentifiable human remains.
He arrived at the library in ten minutes. For the room to perform its function, nothing but a few chairs and terminals were needed, but his predecessor had spared no expense for his hobbies. The smell of old paper hit his nose like a shot of pure alcohol, and even his Ascended eyes needed a second to adjust to the dim lighting. Bookshelves lined all the walls from floor to forty-foot ceiling. Some were scattered around the room like paper-filled support pillars. He smelled dust. Nobody had read a printed copy in years, so he didn’t bother to have the top shelves cleaned. He would have repurposed the room if not for Yvonne. He cherished the few things she still cared about.
He found her nestled in her favorite armchair in the corner. Her feet dangled from the left arm and she used the right arm as a pillow—she never sat normally. A documentary from the civil war was playing a foot from her face.
“I need your help, Yvonne,” he said.
She didn’t react, and he noticed the black beads of headphones in her ears. By now he knew better than to touch her when she was like this, so he walked into her field of vision instead. Her eyes widened, and she launched herself at him. The headphones and the book-shaped terminal went flying in random directions as he was enveloped in a suffocating hug. Yvonne was far too warm and soft, so he gently untangled himself from her.
“Master, you’ve finally come to visit,” she said. “Where is your tie? You need to start wearing a tie.”
Distracted by the non-sequitur, he asked, “Why, Yvonne?”
Her azure eyes peered into his with the seriousness of a death sentence. “So I can fix it for you of course. Maybe it will make you come by more often.” She stepped back, cupped his face with her hands, and frowned. “You are tense, sit down.”
“I don’t have the time—”
“Sit down, Master.”
Kyle gave up and took her former place in the chair. Kyle was of average height, and Yvonne was three inches taller than him. Her Ascension had given her extra ten pounds of muscle mass and a lot of power. He felt her fingers on his neck and blood rushed to his face. This reminded him of Audrey. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. The chair felt like it was molded to Yvonne’s form. “How many times did I tell you to stop calling me ‘Master’?”
“Sit still, Master. Your neck is like a sack of stones. Did you doze off at your desk again?”
He chose to remain silent.
“Right,” she said. “I know you won’t sleep with any of us, but please at least use a bed.”
He let himself melt into the pressure of her fingers for a moment. He breathed in the smell of old books and felt Yvonne break apart and dissolve muscle knots he hadn’t been aware off. As horrible as the previous Count had been, he had trained his Sisters well.
The wave of disgust he felt for himself broke the moment.
“I need you to come with me,” he said. “I expect trouble with convincing the next group of recruits to undergo the procedure.”
“Do I need to lie and tell them they will end up looking like me?” she asked.
“No, nothing like that. They have seen the pictures. The doctors tell me they are afraid of what becoming Crawlers will mean for them.” He reached for her right hand and grasped it. “I just need someone with a softer touch to convince them it’s worth it to keep us from being overrun by the Republic, and that we’ll do all in our power to help them regain full function later. This is the first group without former rebels. If we succeed we might be able to get enough volunteers to push deeper into Council territory.”
“Okay.”
Despite all that had happened during the last few days, Kyle felt himself relax. They still had fifteen minutes until they had to go to the research center to talk to the latest recruits, and he didn’t have anything pressing to do. And now that the memories receded, he was starting to melt under her fingers again. He sighed in content.
“We should have sex.” And his tension was back. “Shhh,” said Yvonne. “It’s just an offer. You think this feels good? Lankershire has the best pleasure industry on the planet, we Sisters are the best in Lankershire, and I am the most experienced. Why don’t you give me a try?”
“This again? Yvonne, how many times before you give up?”
“I think I’m wearing you down.”
He twisted out of her grasp, stood up and turned to face her. “No, you aren’t. Five years I have been Count of Lankershire, and every month you ask me the same question. You know what, go into town, find a boy or a girl you like. Have some fun and stop bothering me.”
“I’m the eldest. I’m meant to serve,” there was hardness in her face now, and her height made him wish for a podium.
Kyle said, “And you do, and I’m grateful. But I will not take advantage.”
She shook her head and said, “You insult us by going to the brothels when we are right here.”
Sometimes he would doubt himself for keeping Yvonne and her sisters close by, but then one of them would say something like this. Some of them, like Yvonne, wo
uldn’t survive without a Count, because the people hated them. Others, like Moira, would go on a rampage trying to get back at their families for putting them in this position in the first place.
“Look, Yvonne,” he said, “I can’t undo what he did to you. But I will not kidnap underage girls from the city. I will not torture those that speak up against my rule. You chose to stay by my side, and you are a lot of help, but he bought all of you from your families. Turned you into Ascended and broke you.”
“So I’m broken. Is that why you think I’m not good for anything?”
“You are missing the point.”
Yvonne looked like an avenging angel with her halo of blond hair and eyes the color of summer sky. To help them forget, all the other Sisters changed what they wore and how they looked after he came into power, but Yvonne kept her clothes, hair, and make-up. She was radiant when angry.
“I may be broken, Master, but this is what I am. I don’t even remember what I was like when I came to this castle five hundred years ago.”
Kyle took a step closer and laid a hand on her cheek, and she relaxed and pulled him into a hug. They stayed like that for a minute and then left together.
Construction was everywhere in Lankershire. Before he became Count, the unemployment rate had been low for Terra Nox—around eighty percent. Even the war effort didn’t create enough jobs, so the citizens decided they should remake Lankershire and eradicate the traces of oppression they had been under for centuries.
“What will all of them do when the renovations are done?” asked Yvonne.
“It will take years,” he said. “By then we’ll think of something.”
“Sooner or later they will run out of work. A thousand planets struggled against this for a thousand years. You think you can solve it?”
“I have a few ideas.”
It was night. Lankershire was a city of hills, crevices, bridges, platforms, moats, and everything else the previous Count had been able to think of. The original residential buildings were three to five floors high and sprawled into the distance. Now a silvery web of metal and plastic overlaid the original design, straight streets plowing through city blocks of black stone houses and lights of all colors shining over the city like a festive blanket thrown over a slab of granite.