by D.D. Chant
Fracture
The Chronicles of Discord
Book 1
By
D.D. Chant
Fracture (The Chronicles of Discord)
Copyright © 2012 by D.D. Chant
All rights reserved in all media. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locales and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual people, places or events are coincidental or fictionalised.
For my sister Amy.
Who has patiently put up with my borderline obsession with my last three books and the greatly antisocial behaviour it has fostered in me. Without her understanding and encouragement I would never have been able to complete my stories.
Thank you, baby!
XOXO
Chapter One
The Tula
Ben lounged in his seat and gazed out of the panoramic window of the viewing deck. This large room was usually a hive of activity but at the moment he was the only person on board who had the time to be there. Everyone else on board was feverishly preparing for the imminent docking.
His fingers tapped an impatient rhythm against the arm of his comfortable chair as he studied the vista before him. The viewing deck was the highest point on the ship and he could see the lower stories and out across the canal to the strange city beyond. Black stone buildings reached far into the distance, austere and unfriendly.
The small compu-pad on his lap had slipped a little to one side as if forgotten, its screen displaying the images that he had been flicking through a moment before. Among the pictures were several overfed and prosperous looking men and the few stern women that made up the Tula High Council.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
The voice was mild but Ben started guiltily, turning quickly in his chair. He hadn’t heard the sound of his father's approach on the thickly carpeted floor.
“Sorry, Dad, did you want me for something?”
Senator Philip Burton shook his head and made his way through the chairs huddled around low tables to stand behind his son’s seat.
“No, I just wanted five minutes to myself before the onslaught begins.” He smiled faintly. “It struck me that you’d probably had the same idea.”
His eyes fell to the compu-pad on his son’s knee and took in the now familiar faces it held. Ben twisted in his chair awkwardly, looking up at his father.
“Cheerful bunch aren’t they?” he remarked, noting the direction of his father’s gaze. Senator Burton smiled but did not reply to his son’s irreverent statement.
“You’re still not happy?”
Ben tensed and, turning away, fixed his gaze resolutely outside.
“I just feel a little strange.” He shrugged dismissively. “I dare say I’ll get used to it.”
Senator Burton regarded his son with exasperated fondness. It seemed Ben had still not realised why he had been dropped from his official position as secretary. He patted his son’s broad shoulder.
“I already miss your efficiency: although Lester is trying, he doesn’t know me like you do and can’t anticipate the things I need.”
“He’ll learn.”
“I suppose so.” Senator Burton looked again at the compu-pad. “Will you remember them all?”
“Sure, I don’t know why it’s necessary though.”
“It can’t hurt to be prepared.” Senator Burton smiled at the frown in his son's blue eyes. “Don’t look so irritable, Ben, it would be a waste to have you languish as my P.A. when you can be of so much more use elsewhere.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed and he grinned smugly.
“I knew you were up to something.”
“I’m taking precautions,” responded his father. “This is one of the biggest opportunities we’re likely to get. No one from the outside has crossed over Tula borders for over a hundred years: our diplomatic envoy will be the first.” Senator Burton shook his head. “The trouble is we’ll be so busy with all the pomp and ceremony we’ll miss everything.”
Ben raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean; miss everything?”
Senator Burton picked the pad up and glanced idly over the images it held.
“You’ve been around politicians all your life, Ben; I would have thought you of all people would know that the carefully presented image that the Tula High Council will give us of their nation, will have little resemblance to the day to day lives of its people.”
“You want me to spy on them,” stated Ben bluntly.
His father nodded.
“I want to know everything that’s happening in the Tula strongholds,” he returned evenly, “not just what they allow us to see. I want to know every skeleton in their closet intimately.”
Ben chuckled as he watched his father lower himself in to the seat opposite him.
“I’m glad the momentous nature of our visit hasn’t robbed you of your faculties, Dad. What do you suspect to be going on in the Tula strongholds?”
“More than meets the eye,” returned Senator Burton wearily, “there always is.”
He had been flicking absently through the images on the pad but the motion of his hand was suddenly arrested and the thoughtful look on his face deepened. Ben leaned forward, reaching out a hand to tilt the compu-pad, so that he could see what had caught his father’s attention.
The picture was of a grey haired man in his fifties shrouded in the black and silver robes of a Tula statesman. Ben didn’t need to read the short biography to know that the man was Corbani Va Dic Ladron, the Councillor in charge of the Tula security forces.
The Tula didn’t have a separate army and police force but had amalgamated the two. Ben remembered that the fact had unsettled him when he had read about it, now he wondered why the feeling had stayed with him so clearly.
In their ongoing war with the Una it made sense that the two entities be combined, so why did it bother him? Ben shook his head knowing he would have no peace until he had solved the conundrum.
Senator Burton saw his son’s frown and nodded. Ben’s interest had been piqued and Senator Burton knew that there was no hiding anything from Ben once he had decided that he wanted to know the truth. It was one of Ben’s most valuable attributes. Any fool could eat lunches and dinners, or be shown around factories and such, reflected Senator Burton. However, it took a cunning mind to ferret out the truth without causing offence.
And they were not in a position to give offence.
For a hundred and thirty-two years there had been no trade with the Tula strongholds. Before their borders had been closed the technology that had emerged had been far more advanced than anything the Free Nation had produced. Senator Burton shook his head knowing that the Tula must be capable of far more now; the possibilities were endless.
This advancement in technology had been the root of the problem with the Una, or at least, that was how the Tula had presented the matter. The Una had considered that using technology to help nature would lead to more damage than had already been caused and had instead suggested more organic, less intensive methods of farming. The Tula had responded that it was twice the effort for half the crop in an already starving world. The Una had pointed out that using food stocks for fuel had hardly shown consideration to the world’s malnourished.
And so the argument had escalated.
Through all of this the Tula’s technology had advanced, stretching into every facet of their lives, from the food they ate to transportation and health care.
The Free N
ation was greedy for that technology, desperate for it, and Senator Burton was there to see that they gained access to it.
After the unrest of the Hundred Year War, the Free Nation's Board of Senators had realised that, far from entering a time of peace, the threat of war now came from a different source. The Tula were strong, much stronger than the Free Nation. The turmoil that the war had created in the Free Nation’s lands had kept them safe from the Tula’s machinations.
Now the Free Nation was stable, that would no longer be the case.
The Tula needed new troops for their conflict with the Una. However the Board of Senators had decided that they would not join forces with the Tula in war with the Una. Senator Burton had been despatched with the unenviable task of walking a very thin line. He needed to manoeuvre the Tula into a trade agreement with the Free Nation while at the same time withholding military support. The Free Nation’s refusal to join their cause would anger the Tula and the Free Nation couldn’t afford so powerful an enemy.
“Senator Burton?” A slight young man had unobtrusively entered the viewing deck and stood by the door.
“Yes, Lester?”
“The boat has docked, sir, and the Tula High Council is ready to welcome you ashore.”
“Very well.” Senator Burton got to his feet and turned to Ben. “No more waiting, Ben; now it’s time to face the music.”
Ben stood and angled a look across to his father.
“If you say so, Dad, but I draw the line at dancing.”
Senator Burton rolled his eyes at the weak joke and followed Lester down the corridor to the lift.
Ben reflected that his father didn’t really look as though the safety of millions rested on his shoulders. Senator Burton was calm and radiated a power and serenity that made others aware, without words, that he was a person of responsibility and power.
If the Tula had been aiming to shock and awe then they succeeded. As the diplomatic mission stepped out into the fresh air and made their way toward the gangway Ben looked around in wonder.
The canal, which had brought them to the centre of the city, was lined on each side by black high rise buildings. The docking point lead on to a park and Ben had the impression of neatly clipped trees and short weedless grass with small uniform hedges lining the interlinking walkways. The four sides of the park were hemmed in by large buildings made from a strange black rock that glittered in the sunlight.
The metal gangway, which stretched across from the dock to the ship, connected to a podium where the Tula High Council were seated. Behind them, filling every space so far as Ben could see, was a cheering crowd of spectators.
Ben didn’t think he’d ever seen anything quite so orderly as the massive city and those who inhabited it.
He was a little surprised to see that the whole crowd was wearing monochrome silver suits that contrasted with the black and silver robes of the Councillors’ waiting to receive them. One Councillor stepped forward and placed his hand over his heart.
“It is an honour to welcome you to our country, Senator Burton,” he intoned solemnly. “My name is Councillor Corbani Va Dic Ladron, Commandant of the security forces.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Councillor,” responded Senator Burton, holding out a hand.
Councillor Ladron regarded him blankly before turning to converse with the young woman standing just behind him. A few moments low voiced discussion and Councillor Ladron turned and placed his hand into the Senator’s.
“Please forgive me, Senator, this form of greeting has not been used in my country for more than a hundred years.” He smiled and turned to introduce his fellow Councillors.
Ben paid minimal attention to them; he already knew who they were and what positions they held thanks to the information that the Tula had already given them. Instead, his attention was on the woman that Councillor Ladron had spoken to briefly.
She had stepped back into obscurity, her hands clasped lightly in front of her and her eyes downcast. She seemed to withdraw completely and, for all the attention she received, she might have been invisible.
Councillor Ladron finished his introductions and Ben, hearing his own name called out, stepped forward to shake hands with each Councillor in turn.
“We will have to look after you,” smiled Councillor Ladron. “I believe you’ll find many things to interest you during your stay with us.”
Ben could see a sharp, speculative gleam in the Councillor’s eyes and realised that Councillor Ladron saw him as a complication, a loose cannon. He was trying to feel him out, to see how much trouble this problematic Senator’s son was going to give him. Ben sensed that Councillor Ladron was not the sort of man who liked his carefully laid plans interfered with.
“I hope so.”
For a second, Ben allowed his eyes to drift pointedly to the young woman, still standing respectfully silent in the background. Despite the lengthy introductions, she had not been presented and he wondered why. She must be of some importance or she wouldn’t have been present on the platform.
He saw Councillor Ladron follow the direction of his gaze and then watched the older man’s face register a thoughtful, almost sly expression. Ben realised, as Councillor Ladron turned a wolfish smile on him, that his action had been misunderstood. It never occurred to Councillor Ladron that Ben sought an introduction, he’d supposed Ben’s interest to be of a much baser nature than that.
For a moment Ben was irritated, but then he saw the opportunity that the misunderstanding created. If Councillor Ladron thought that he would be easily entertained by female company, then he wouldn’t keep such a close eye on him. If he wasn’t closely watched, then he had a much better chance of feeling out the sociological situation in the Tula strongholds.
With that in mind Ben smiled at the girl, or at least he tried to, but she was staring sightlessly at the ground and seemed completely unaware of the attention she was receiving.
Corbani Va Dic Ladron, however, was not. With a satisfied smile he looked from one to the other, but still made no attempt to introduce them.
“Take them to their seats.”
It was an outright order, apparently addressed to the woman, for she placed a hand over her heart and bowed. Then she gestured that the diplomatic envoy should follow her.
As Ben sat down, he heard Councillor Ladron begin to address the crowd from the podium, but let the words wash over him unregistered. His thoughts were still on the woman. At no point had she spoken to them. She had seen them to their seats and, as they had settled into their places, her eyes had remained respectfully downcast. It was almost as though she thought herself invisible to them.
Despite her self-effacing manner she stood out and Ben tried to figure out why. His eyes ran over her appraisingly. She was good looking — if you liked marble statues — but it wasn’t really that.
Ben looked again at the women in the crowd, trying to decide what was so different about her compared to them. They were all dressed the same in a dull shade of silver, a jacket and knee length skirt. Ben glanced back at the girl to see that she was wearing the exact same thing, but with a slight difference. On her jacket, the elegant little collar and down the angled edge of the neck was trimmed in bright blue silk.
It was, Ben realised, the only colour present other than the green of the park and it really did have the effect of bringing her to the forefront of attention. He frowned looking over the crowd again. Now that he thought about it they all looked like they were wearing a uniform. Their clothes were the same cut, same colour… he found it a little unnerving.
Thunderous applause broke out and Ben clapped along with everyone else as Councillor Ladron brought his speech to an end.
It was then Senator Burton’s turn to say a few words. Ben watched as his father calmly took the podium and gave a brief, but nevertheless pointed, speech on the peaceful nature of relations that the Free Nation hoped to engage in with the Tula.
It was masterful, thought Ben ruefully. It served as a war
ning to the Tula High Council not to expect the Free Nation to involve itself in any unrest with the Una, yet he said nothing that they could take exception to.
And then it was over.
With a final wave they left the podium and proceeded along one of the avenues toward the parliament buildings. Ben had an impression of the crowd forming orderly queues before the angle of the path placed them out of his line of sight.
As the buildings neared, Ben gazed at the tall structure of Government Building curiously. The glittering black stone façade was broken up by large swathes of glass that ran with abstract freeness through the whole. The effect was astonishingly beautiful but Ben felt that there was a warning in the austere structure. It radiated a potent and suffocating power.
Ben shook his head.
Apparently his father was not the only Burton with a suspicious mind. He chuckled a little at his own thoughts as an image of the Freedom Buildings, the Free Nation’s seat of power, rose in his mind. Their very purpose was to awe and intimidate.
Ben forced himself to relax. There would be plenty of things to disagree with the Tula over, without imagining more. With that resolutely in mind Ben entered the large glass door of the Government Building.