“I won’t go through with the binding ritual, then. I’ll abdicate. They can’t stop us then!”
Her father stood and pointed at her. His voice, the deep commanding one that had held the Empire together in peace her whole life, said, “You have been named heir. Elraci is the last nation for your binding. It will be a serious insult if you refuse their fealty.”
She stood as tall as she could, holding back the tears. She was trapped, and she knew it. “Father, please. I love him more than you can know. I don’t know why. But I desire no other. I could never desire another.”
The emperor persona faded, and he stepped down, grasping her shoulders. “Ticca, you will love another. It might take many years, but believe me. Somewhere out there is someone as grand for you as your mother is for me. Lebuin is an immortal, a God, and the Empire cannot ever be allowed to have a Lord God Emperor. The combined powers, mundane, magical, and political are too great to entrust to one individual, even if that individual is my own grandchild, or perhaps, great grandchild. We have learned this lesson over and over. Power corrupts, unless we’re very careful. Our family is designed to rule with trust, dignity, honor, wisdom, and most importantly, empathy. Our genetic behaviors, being, and hereditary memories are woven into our cells with mundane and magical methods. Those traits will not breed true with a deity child.”
Deep inside, she knew all those things. Still, it hurt. Her heart ached more than she thought possible.
How could this be? We’re so right for each other. The same magics that shaped my early genetic growth tell me so strongly Lebuin is the one. I don’t understand how something so perfect and pure could be forbidden. Why would the Gods give me such a deep love for Lebuin, only to prevent us from being together? It doesn’t make sense.
Her father, the 462nd Emperor of Duianna, hugged her. She knew he was right and that even though it broke her heart, she would comply. Even when she became empress, she would have to honor his wisdom.
He kissed her on the forehead. “Now, shall we proceed?”
She wiped her eyes and nose and then nodded. She tried to smile, though her red face and bloodshot eyes were evidence of her true emotions.
“Ticca, I know you’re hurting, but you’re my daughter. You will be empress. You must show your strength even through your pain. Always.”
“I understand.”
Ticca took a deep breath. She fanned her face with her hand as they left the throne room for the Elracian Senate chamber. On arriving, he escorted her to the center of the beautiful wood-paneled room. She noticed Lebuin wasn’t present, even though he’d come for it. Illa was sitting in the front row of the balcony seats, and next to her was Lady Lothia.
Her father noticed where she looked. For her ears only, he whispered, “Lord Argos called Lebuin to Miniath-Tur to discuss the issue.”
Well, that will end it most assuredly. If Lord Argos is going to give Lebuin a direct order, we’ll both be up for execution if we try to sidestep the laws.
The aching in her heart was a crushing sensation. She sniffled and blinked rapidly in an attempt to dry the tears that fought to spill over her lids. It took all her strength not to burst into wailing sobs. She continued to fan her face, trying to clear the tears and redness, to no avail.
The Senate chairperson in her ceremonial robes of green and blue held up the golden cup of Elracian nanobot-saturated water. The Elracian nanobots were unique in that they were both magical and mundane. All other nations were still using the old mundane ones, but plans were underway to provide the radiant power lines and enhanced machinery to all the nations. The new power systems were safer for the mundane races, especially humans, and provided almost double the mana for the creatures of magic. They’d taken thousands of years of research to figure out, but the engineers finally found the balance.
“All of Elraci rejoices in your ascension to be heir of the Duianna Empire. Our nation has always been a proud supporter of the Empire and a member nation of the Duianna Union. Your Royal Highness, Lady Ticca of Aelargo, please accept this in binding our nation to your reign. Long live the emperor, long stand the Empire.”
Everyone in the room stood solemnly as Ticca plastered on a fake smile, which never made it to her eyes, and accepted the cup. Holding it high, she looked over the entire room slowly. “Citizens of Elraci, the Empire has long been proud of your nation’s fealty. You’re truly one of the brightest jewels of the Duianna Union. It is with deep humility and pride that I accept your binding to the throne of the Duianna Empire.” She drank the metallic-tasting water as quickly as she could, careful to not let a single drop spill.
Handing the cup back to the senator, she forced the corners of her lips to curl upwards as she acknowledged the applause. Her eyes landed on her personal guard and lifelong friend, the captain of the Elracian Royal Guard, Amia-Dharo. He’d been the royal guard captain for over 5,000 years. He was bound to her family by the special magics and technologies Elraci had been researching. That he achieved a form of immortality from it was a surprising side effect and one still under investigation, when he was in a good enough mood to provide more samples. Seeing Amia-Dharo reminded her of marks of training, fighting, and of being...a Dagger.
She turned and looked at her father with tears welling in her eyes as her throat choked up. Memories of him playing with her as she grew up in the palace in Gracia clashed with memories of him teaching her how to plant fields and care for animals on a farm in southern Aelargo. She leapt at him, hugging him. It was against protocol, but everyone loved it. Cheers went up, and instead of peeling her off, he hugged her back.
“Dad, I love you, no matter what. I promise I won’t let you down.”
He whispered in her ear, “You never have. I’m proud of you, Ticca. You would’ve made a great marine, like in Duke’s stories you love so much.”
She grasped his hand and wouldn’t let go. They walked together out of the Senate chamber. Waving at the gathered citizens, they got in an open carriage and started down the spiral streets, heading for the southern park, where a festival had been planned and staged in the wide yards of the Imperial vacation home.
It happened as they rode. Ticca knew it was coming and gave her father another kiss on his cheek. She squeezed his hand so tightly, her father looked at her as the wave passed over him, and he vanished.
Dizziness caused her to fall. Fortunately, it was a soft landing. The thick carpet cushioned her. Ticca cried covering her head with her arms. She was in the blue marble palace, but it was her reality. Elraci had burnt and the huge amounts of magic in the desert had sterilized her. If she didn’t escape soon the mana radiation would soon overwhelm her remaining nanobots, causing permanent cellular damage and eventually killing her.
Brandon had explained that magic sterilized humans, which was why no woman over the age of twenty-eight became pregnant. By entering Elraci, she’d ended any hope she had of having a child. She had no brothers, sisters, or cousins. Her uncle was too old and childless.
“Father, I miss you. I’m so sorry. If I had listened, I wouldn’t be the last.”
She’d known farming wasn’t for her, and she still knew it, but to know she could never have children.... That was too much.
Brandon appeared. She knew he was a machine or a person who was made by humans. Still, he had feelings, and for all purposes, was an intelligent being with rights and privileges. Brandon was a shadow of his former self without the resources to repair himself, let alone try to deal with the Elraci cleanup.
“What has happened?” he asked.
She sniffled and motioned for him to go away and leave her in her misery.
“Your Highness. What have you done? How did you do this?”
Brandon’s tone was one of disbelief. She sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve as she lifted an arm to peer at him. “What are you talking about?�
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Brandon was bending down over her, staring at her belly as if she wasn’t there.
“Brandon, stop that. What are you talking about?”
Brandon straightened up. “You’re filled with billions of highly advanced Elracian nanobots of an order that would take hundreds, maybe thousands, of years of research to construct.”
Her hands dropped to her stomach. “Uh, I just came back from one of those transition wave visions. While I was there, I performed the binding ceremony before the Elracian Senate.”
Brandon started pacing, running his hands through his unkempt hair, mumbling to himself. “I wasn’t sure if I could believe you. But this. This is a miracle. Do you know what this means?”
Ticca sniffled and sat up. Rubbing her nose with her sleeves, she shook her head. Brandon was too focused to notice.
“It means I can get you out of here safely. And with your permission, I might be able to restore all my systems to begin trying to clean up Elraci.”
That got her attention. Putting her legs under herself, she stood and waved her hand directly in Brandon’s way. He stopped and looked at her.
“Try explaining.”
“You have far more bots than you need. They’re already transforming themselves to Imperial bots per the instructions in your genome. But if you command them, they will obey me. If you grant me...” He looked up, and his head shifted from left to right a couple of times as he seemed to have a heavy thought that was rolling around inside his head. “...three hundred million bots, I can fix one of the repair units. After that, it can fix more repair units, and eventually, I’ll be able to get a factory operating again. It will take a few years at least, but I can be fully restored, and the city can be put right. When I get the shields back up over the city, I can begin rebuilding the research systems here. Elraci might yet be restored!”
“And I’m just going to sit here while you do this?”
“No. With only a few hundred thousand bots, we can make one of the evacuation jets operational. I can program it to take you out of the desert and land safely. I’ll give you a device we can use to talk to each other. It won’t work until I get the city’s communication systems repaired and figure out how to pierce through the high levels of magic that are blanketing the city. I should be able to build a relay system to the mountains in eight or so years. That would let me check in with you, maybe even help. But when I do, we can talk. Maybe you can find out what happened to the other AIs in that time.”
“Lebuin and the rest of the team should have been here by now, which means they likely had a real problem and had to head north. Can you get me to them?”
Brandon nodded. “I can program the escape jet to land close to any group of people it finds. If they’re coming here, it’ll be a short trip. From what you have told me, the only possible group of people here will be your friends. If they’re heading north, it will be longer. The jet might be able to move along the mountains to look for them. But it doesn’t have that much range.”
Only a few marks later, Ticca was sitting in a cupped chair, staring at dozens of controls she had only a vague idea about how to use. In one of the five alternate dimension pockets of her belt pouch, she had Brandon’s communication device, which he called a comrec, which stood for communicator recorder. It was actually a mini library of data with recording abilities and a type of technology that allowed for nearly instantaneous communication over long ranges. It looked like a mini cigar case to her. She’d also loaded the cockpit up with as many containers of water as she could, and she had a nice new backpack filled with foods and some fresh clothes.
“You’re sure about this?” She smiled at the image of Brandon standing next to the hatch.
“It’s all programmed. All you have to do is hit that big red button, and it will do the rest.”
“Thank you, Brandon. I’m glad I met you and that I was able to help. Don’t take any risks. Go slow and do it right. If I don’t hear from you in nine years, I’ll come back.”
Brandon smiled and bowed. “Your will, my empress. I shall endeavor to work tirelessly on getting things corrected here.” Then he stood tall. “Vivant et imperii decus est famuli tui Duianna Elraci!”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s an ancient promise from the pre-migration Duianna Empire. It loosely translates as By the glory of its Elracian servants, long may the Duianna Empire live. The name of the nation is, of course, substituted for the current location.”
“Until we meet again,” Ticca said with joy in her eyes. She waved and pressed the red button. An alarm sounded, and the panels before her lit up. The canopy door slammed closed, and she was thrust back into the seat. Moments later, the bright sands of the desert were shooting past below her. The speed she was moving was inconceivable in her mind. She was too shocked to be afraid. Brandon had shown her how to read the displays, and everything on the panels looked just like he said it would.
This would be great to get anywhere! I wish I could fly all the time.
The craft weaved and flew in a zig-zag pattern, capable of sensing humans fifty miles away. In order to track her team and Lebuin, it only had to fly for fifteen minutes to cover 500 square miles. The air was comfortable, and she enjoyed eating the last meal Brandon had gotten the food machines to give her, which was something he called a peat-sah. She’d had something similar, but this was uniquely good. It was nice, because it was cut up into easy-to-hold slices and put into little containers. Sipping the water, she waited for Lebuin to appear on the scanners.
I can’t figure out how he can make peat taste so good. But dang, I like it. Guess this is one of the cases like my uncle used to say about traveling. ‘If it tastes good, just go with it. Sometimes it’s best to not ask too many questions.’
A couple of marks later, she was approaching the mountains when the alarm went off, indicating that the ship found a group of people. The craft turned and moved towards the location. Ticca sat up and looked out the window. She was near the mountains when the group came into view. They turned towards her as she approached.
She giggled at the spectacle she was about to become. Now, this is going to be a gloriously impressive entrance!
Her stomach flipped and her heart began to pound as she realized her entire team was being held captive by a group of Nhia-Samri. The jet, on the program set by Brandon, slowed and banked to fly around the group, giving her a clear view down, while it searched for a safe landing spot.
One of the Nhia-Samri gestured and pointed to Ticca. Lightning flew from her and hit the craft. Half of the panel in front of Ticca went red as klaxons and alarm buzzers sounded. She grabbed for the controls. Brandon had given her a quick lesson on how to fly it, but said it was really best if she left the flying to the jet.
She hit the buttons that would give her control, and she turned it away from the group. She was trying to figure out how to make it go faster when a second strike hit. She heard something explode in the rear as more alarms went off. She was slammed into her seat as the jet spun wildly. It started tumbling, and she was thrown back and forth in every direction possible.
Light flashed in her eyes as the sun swung past the windows, replaced by the ground, then sky, then sun. Ticca realized the ground was way too close. She screamed for help just as the ship slammed into the ground. Blackness took her.
Rough hands moved over her body. “She’s alive. She’s strapped into this thing.” She was pulled left, then right. Hands ran across her chest, then waist. “I don’t see how to release it. She isn’t wounded, and nothing is broken.”
“It looks like a type of cloth. Cut the straps. Make sure to cut a sample to take with us. I want to get away from this thing. The smoke back here doesn’t smell right. It might burn any moment.”
“Sir,” said another voice, “she has a large supply of food and water
tucked back here.”
“Take it. We can certainly use more water.”
She opened her eyes when she heard the sound of a sword being drawn. A strong young male Nhia-Samri was bending into the cockpit over her, one odassi drawn. He was wearing full armor and gloves. He nodded to her with a smile as he cut her out of the seatbelts. He cut a length of one of the belts and put it in his pouch as he sheathed his sword.
“Sir, she’s awake.”
Another Nhia-Samri, a woman, stepped next to the first. “Hello, Ticca. I’m very pleased you caught up with us. I was wondering how I was going to invite you to Lumendaria with your friends.” She slowly looked around. “It seems you’re full of surprises.”
Still feeling dizzy and not entirely sure if she was awake or dreaming, Ticca said, “I’m very pleased I could make it myself. One small favor. I’d appreciate it if you don’t forget my peat-sah. I was enjoying it.”
They glanced at each other, puzzled. Ticca had to fight not to laugh. She considered not explaining, but the peat-sah really was good, so she pointed to the scattered containers.
The female picked one up and examined it. She nodded, and the other warriors, who’d been taking all the water and food out, also grabbed the half-dozen containers of peat-sah slices.
The lady motioned back away from the jet with her head and said, “Mark this location. We’ll want to come back for this craft if any of it remains. We have to get over the mountains before we can open a gate. We don’t want to be late.”
Maru-Ashua
Maru-Ashua stalked the halls of what should have been his palace. People scattered out of his way, and guards leapt to open doors. He’d taken the city, land, and people fairly. They’d been surrendered to him, and Shar-Lumen had not amended the documents establishing that he was His Lordship Duke Maru-Ashua, First Warlord of the Nhia-Samri. His family would reign for many generations, if he could hold on to it against the approaching armies of the Alliance, yet he felt alien there.
Thread Skein (Golden Threads Trilogy Book 3) Page 44