Maya’s eyes widened and Skylaar shrugged with pleasure as she saw the comprehension dawning in them.
“Which leaves us the blade,” the Nemesian continued, “and close-quarter hand-to-hand combat as our only viable defensive options. Do you understand now? That is why we practice with the sword as much as we do. It is not simply for form, or to observe some archaic tradition. It is the very key to our survival when we are outside the conventional time-stream.”
“But you told me—“Maya began.
“I know what I once said, and I had my reasons for saying it. I also had every intention of focusing exclusively on the ka’na, once your skills in other areas had reached the appropriate level,” Skylaar replied.
“Now, we are making an alteration to your curriculum. I also think that we will need to work very hard indeed. The day may be coming when you might need all the skill with a blade that you can muster.”
A shiver went up Maya’s spine. “The psi’s that Sarah once warned me about, back on the JUDI. Is that it? Is that who you’re talking about?”
Skylaar gave her a curt nod. “Yes, Maya. Very possibly.”
For a long moment, there was only the faint sound of the wind whistling between them.
Skylaar broke the silence. “Now, “she said, “let us practice that lovely little flying cut that you tried to land on me. I think that you should have scored a hit, and I’d like to see what was off about your execution.”
They spent the rest of the morning working out, and when noon arrived, Maya’s original gloom had all but vanished. They called a halt to their exercises and ate lunch together in a nearby restaurant that specialized in Nemesian and Thermadonian cuisine.
As they finished their repast, Skylaar brought up the subject of Felecia. “Have you called on her since you moved?”
Maya looked down at her plate. “I have,” she said. “But she’s always too busy to see me. I’m worried that it’s because I’m no longer an agent.” She paused, and then added in a small voice, “Or maybe because she’s seeing someone else.”
“Maya,” Skylaar replied patiently. “Lady Felecia has always cared for you. She is probably just too overwhelmed with her mother’s demands on her time. She is after all, being groomed to take her place someday. That requires a lot of energy and commitment. And as I recall, you once told me that she found you to be very exciting when she thought that you were nothing more than a lowly pirate. Surely, now that you have become a policewoman, you must command even more fascination.”
Maya gave her a small, wan smile. “Yes, Sena-Tai. I suppose you’re right.”
“Call her again,” Skylaar suggested. “I know that I’m only your martial arts teacher, but I think that if you keep at it, and are patient with her, you will succeed. And we both know that spending some time with her would do your spirit a great deal of good.”
“All right, Sena-Tai. I will.”
***
Maya was on duty the next day and it wasn’t until her mid-day break that she was able to make the holocall in private. When she did, she found Felecia at Senatrix d’Salla’s office.
“Heyas, darling,” she began, “Do you want to go out riding tonight? I’m off duty now and I heard that the Euxine Sea has some pretty nice sunsets.”
Felecia pouted. “I can’t. Mother has me accompanying her to some dreary fundraiser. I’m sorry, I wish I could, but I can’t get out of it. Forgive me?”
Maya’s heart sank. “Of course,” she replied, flashing her a reassuring smile. “I just thought---oh well, duty first. I understand.” They went on like this for a little longer, mainly out of politeness, before she ended the call.
“Fek!” she cursed. Only the fact that Felecia hadn’t formally broken things off between them was what was saving her from being consumed by another bout of despair.
She didn’t do that, she reminded herself. She just said that she couldn’t go out with me tonight. It sounded weak, but it was all that she had to hold onto.
Resigning herself to a night alone, she accessed the holovision listings and found one hopeful candidate; the new remake of ‘Casablanca’. She had heard somewhere that the holo had been creating quite a stir, and she had wanted to see it, just to find out what all the fuss was about. Watching it by herself was an anemic substitute for riding with Felecia, but it would have to suffice. In another day or two, she would call her again, and hope for the best.
Residence of Senatrix Layna n’Calysher, Themiscrya Tower, 900th Floor, Penthouse Level, Agamede District, Thermadon Val, Thermadon, Myrene System, Thalestris Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1049.01|04|07:07:36
“Feli? Did you hear what Angelique just said?” Senatrix n’Calysher asked.
In fact, the young woman hadn’t. After finishing up at D’Salla’s office, Felecia had come straight home for dinner with her mother and Bel Thana. Now they were taking their ease together in the Senatrix’s study, enjoying snifters of 200-year-old Delganian cognac by the fire. The hour had grown late, and she had become hypnotized by the curve of Angelique bel Thana’s calf, which was encased in the black boots of her RSE uniform.
The statuesque blond gave Felecia a half-smile, knowing exactly what had captivated the girl’s attention, and answered for her. “She is simply overtired, Senatrix. I think that we all are. This has been a very busy period for everyone, however fruitful.”
It had been at that, Felecia reflected. With her mother’s help, and that of her allies in the Circle, the Chairwoman had been convinced to give the RSE the sweeping powers that it now enjoyed, but not without encountering some resistance. In recent months, the Uni’s had managed to gain more recognition and support for themselves by protesting what they believed was an ‘all-out assault’ on the liberties of the average woman.
Which, by their way of thinking, it certainly was—even if it was the only way to safeguard the Sisterhood, and ultimately, guide it in the proper direction. It had been weakness that had led to the current problems with the Marionite terrorists, Felecia reminded herself.
Angelique had enlightened her on this point, and she for one, was glad that things were in the process of being set right. She loved her nation, but thanks to Angelique, she also understood why it needed a mother’s firm hand to ensure that it remained strong.
“So, what do you think about T’Tallya? What should we do about her?” her mother asked, repeating Bel Thana’s question. Senatrix t’Tallya was the leader of the Uni’s and the most outspoken of her opposition.
Felecia fingered her ring, thinking for a moment. It was a duplicate of the one on Angelique’s finger, and on her mother’s, and marked her as a member of the Conversâzi. “Kill her?”
Angelique smiled tolerantly “She is tired,” she said. “Feli darling, haven’t I already explained this to you? We need her. For now. To consolidate our control, we must give the population the illusion of free choice.’
“As long as it really amounts to nothing, and they have a few meaningless victories to crow over, they’ll accept any changes that we make as only temporary setbacks. We can’t very well do that if we don’t have dissenters, now can we?”
Felecia nodded. Naturally, the woman was right. Angelique saw the world like her mother and Senatrix d’Salla did, and together, they had taught her how it really worked.
Layna n’Calysher drained her glass and rose. “Jantildamé, I think perhaps it is time for me to turn in for the night. There’s a vote in the morning on the new appropriations for your SRU Teams, and I want to be fresh.”
Bel Thana inclined her head. “Bian dea, Madame Senatrix. I will show myself out.”
Senatrix n’Calysher acknowledged this with a nod, and an understanding gleam in her eye. She knew all about the clandestine affair that Bel Thana was having with her daughter, and she approved of their liaison wholeheartedly.
As soon as the Senatrix had departed, Bel Thana’s smile became suggestive. The light coming from the fireplace conspired with the sable color of Angelique�
�s uniform to accent the blond in her hair, and lent a hungry gleam to her perfect green eyes.
Right then, Felecia wanted nothing more in her life than to reach out and touch that hair, and look deeply into those eyes. A moment later, she gave in to her desire and went to her.
Angelique gathered her up and drank her in with a long deep kiss. Suddenly, they were undressing, and dropping together to the floor. Even though they had been meeting in secret for the last six months, the woman still commanded a tremendous power over her, and Felecia let herself become lost in their lovemaking, and in her.
She still loved Maya, deeply, and continued to feel a powerful sexual attraction for her. But their long separations, and all of the things that she had in common with Angelique, had provided her with what Maya could not. Like herself, Angelique was an aristocrat; the N’Calysher and Bel Thana families had occupied the highest circles of Thermadon’s social class for centuries, and they shared a mutual interest in politics, and power. For the N’Calyshers the arena had always been in the government, and for the Bel Thanas, it was the intelligence community. One of Angelique’s ancestresses, Jaqueline bel Thana had been one of the earliest Directors of the OAE, and other family members had served in the same office with equal distinction.
Angelique bel Thana was also older than Maya, and she had the perspective of greater years, and experience. Her passions were equally as sophisticated. Where Maya was all blazing fire, and excitement, Angelique burned as well, but with a slow steadiness, which was all the more spectacular for the time it took to build to its conclusion.
She had introduced Felecia to a whole new world, not only of physical sensations and long lingering pleasures, but also to the real power behind all the show and bureaucracy of the Sisterhood. The Conversâzi was the future, and Angelique had included her in it.
Felecia entertained no illusions about their relationship though. Angelique was quite frank about her ambitions, and Felecia knew that the woman was just as intensely attracted to the power of the N’Calysher name as she was to her body.
This didn’t bother her however. As native Thermadonians often said, it was simply “Ja apré se”, “How things where” and as much a part of the emotional landscape as their passion for one another was. Everyone exploited someone else for something, and if they both gained the emotional and physical satisfaction that they sought, then the arrangement worked.
The only thing that haunted her was the fact that she had kept both Maya and Angelique ignorant of one another. Neither of them suspected that they were sharing her affections.
Felecia didn’t know if she would ever confess the truth to them; this was something that she still refused to address. She needed them both and she didn’t want to do anything that would drive either of them away. For the moment, the situation would have to remain exactly as it was, with her caught in the middle. It was a dangerous game, but she had to play it to get what she wanted.
Each of them had their pleasures to offer, and their uses.
Remembrance Park, Sinope District, Thermadon Val, Thermadon, Myrene System, Thalestris Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns 1049.01|08|04:88:22
Above all else, Signysdaater was a creature of habit. One of her routines was that when she was not on a call, or eating lunch in the Kalia Vai, she always flew to one of her favorite parking spots.
In the downtown area, this was the rooftop where they had joined the chase of the glass runners. In the Vai, it was a side street near the main marketplace. And in the Sinope District, she had a spot that overlooked the banks of Lake Mnemosyne, in Remembrance Park.
Of all of them, Maya preferred the Park, which was Thermadon’s grandiose homage to the ubiquitous Widow’s Stone. The Thermadontine version was over two stories tall and surrounded by a large and pleasant open space, with plenty of running trails, and picnic sites in and around it.
Remembrance Park was also a favorite of the well-to-do West End women, many of whom worked as models and actresses for the Thermadonian media machine. Despite her ongoing infatuation for Felecia, Maya still had a keen eye for beauty—and a lot of the runners tended to be damned fine looking as far as she was concerned. And it was their standard hairstyle that had engendered her private sobriquet for the place.
To her, it was ‘Ponytail Park’ and in addition to watching the women themselves, she often played a game with herself when she was there. She tried to count exactly how many ponytails she saw in one visit. To date, the galactic record stood at 35 in just under half an hour.
Today seemed even more promising. Although they had only been there for fifteen minutes, it seemed as if she might actually exceed her record. So far, she had seen twenty ponytails, and with the weather bright and sunny, the supply of new runners seemed inexhaustible. Sipping at her kaafra, she smiled at herself and her silly little game.
Then the notion came to her to attempt another call to Felecia. It had been several days since her last try. Because it was Seconday, and approaching noon, she knew that the young woman was most likely enjoying her mid-day break in the dance studio. Felecia had earned the nickname ‘the Dancer’ not only for being cautious and quick-minded when it came to politics, but also for her love of classical ballet.
When she wasn’t studying the art of government, she devoted herself to improving as a performer. Her mother had once even told Maya that had the girl not been destined for life as a politician, she would have most likely enjoyed a successful career as a ballerina. Knowing Felecia as well as she did, Maya didn’t doubt this for an attosecond. She had seen holos of Felecia dancing, and the girl’s natural grace and perfect form had been undeniable, even to her untrained eye.
Sure enough, when Felecia answered her, the omni confirmed Maya’s guess. The location came up as her favorite downtown studio. The girl was in a leotard, a little out of breath, and seemed somewhat surprised at the call.
Maya braced herself. Here I go again, she thought, desperately hoping that the Goddess would grant her a turn of good fortune. “I’m off duty tonight,” she said “I was thinking of taking you to Affecti, and then maybe dinner at Nós Arcan? Interested?”
Affecti, or “Move” was Thermadon’s finest dance club, and Nós Arcan, or Our Secret, was a little place that offered an intimate atmosphere and excellent food.
“Oh Maya, I’d love to,” Felecia replied regretfully, “but the Senatrix has me working late on a new bill that she’s introducing to the Circle tomorrow. Maybe next week?”
“Oh,” Maya returned, struggling keep the disappointment out of her voice. “Okay. Sure. Next week then.” The call ended.
Maya sat back in her seat, staring out at the park but not really seeing it. Her worst fears were coming true. Felecia was slipping away from her. Now she was certain of it.
Signysdaater had overheard the entire exchange, and her hard expression softened. “Zat Felecia, zhe’s your voman, yah?”
“Yeah,” Maya told her, too disheartened to realize that not only was the woman finally speaking to her, but actually showing some interest in her as a person.
“’Kay. I vas juzt vondering,” Signysdaater replied.
Maya grasped the inference behind the Zommerlaandar’s words, and grimaced. Her life, at that exact moment, felt like pure shess. But deep down, and despite the darkness that seemed to be closing in around her like a shroud, she was still determined to keep trying.
Until all of her suspicions and fears were proven wrong. Or Felecia finally said the words that she hoped she would never hear.
Grunvaald Haarmaaneplaatz, Vaalkenstaad Township, Zommerlaand, Sunna 3, Solara Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns 1049.01|08|08:43:02
“What story shall we tell you tonight?” the Biobot asked the children. The Bear had perched himself in his usual spot. He was high up on the shelf above the great stone fireplace. His partner, the Fairy, sat alongside him, her dainty legs crossed and dangling off the wooden platform as she waited with the Bear for their audience to answer.
The t
wo ‘bots had been, without any question, one of the most popular gifts that Aunt Katy had ever brought back with her, and had become a fixture of life at the Grunvaald Farm. Even the adults had abandoned the holojector to gather around the hearth in the evenings to listen to their seemingly endless tales.
It was a custom that Grammy heartily approved of. “The young don’t use their minds enough,’ she had often complained. “Za ’jector robs them of all the wonderful pictures that their own minds can make. The Alte Volk knew this—in ancient times, everyone gathered around the fire to share stories. It was how they passed on their wisdom and stayed strong as a family.”
Fryya, never terribly shy, answered the Bear’s inquiry after only a moment’s consideration. “Tell us about Silwveyr Rachaal!” she exclaimed.
A collective gasp came up from the other little girls. Fryya had made a bold request indeed. “Silver Rachel” was one of the darker tales of Zommerlaand and not lightly asked for.
None of her peers objected however. Being children, they had a morbid streak and when the Bear and his partner looked to Grammy for permission, he received a nod from her.
The Bear drew his tiny body up, and looked around at the children, his expression as grave as his furry little face could manage. Pausing a few seconds longer to create just the right amount of suspense, he began.
“A long, long time ago, back when the great Plague was just beginning to ravage the Star Federation, Zommerlaand remained untouched. The leaders of this world decided not to allow any ships to come and land, for fear that the visitors that they brought with them would also bring the sickness. But this was not before one final ship was given permission to land.’
“Everyone aboard this ship were refugees. They had left their own homes and their motherworlds behind and had come here looking for a safe place to live.”
At this point, the Fairy picked up the narrative. The Biobots tended to work as a team when they were telling a story, with each one taking on the roles that were appropriate for them.
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