by David Winnie
The holo screen showed a ship rising from the ice. Instantly, smaller ships were dancing around, bombarding the ship with bolts of energy. A scout swooped around, fired larger missiles into the hull. “It took quite a pounding before it faltered,” Han continued his report. “The crew, fifteen total, all augmentons. The ship hit the water and sank. I had submersibles and divers nearby. Once all the biological components died, we could retrieve thirteen of their brain processor units undamaged. Once revived, it will not take long to determine the perpetrators of this heinous crime.”
This time, it was Annika who bowed low to General Han. “Crown Princess, you honor me!” gasped the startled General.
“No, General,” the future monarch ruled, “It is you who honors my Empire.”
Annika was snuggled with Yuri in bed. The terrors still came to her in her sleep. Yuri was her shield, her knight in shining armor. In his arms at night, nothing could touch her, nothing could harm her.
Dohlman appeared. He shook Annika’s shoulder. “Crown Princess! Wake, please.”
She had been having such a pleasant dream. They were riding together, back on Celtius 4. It was late summer; the air was still. The sudden shaking was annoying. Yuri calling her Crown Princess was even worse. Wait, what?
Annika roused. Yuri snored beside her. “Dohlman! What is it? What time is it?” she snapped. It had been a lovely dream.
“It’s 0243 hours, Crown Princess.” He handed her a piece of paper. “He was most insistent, Ma’am.”
A deep breath, exhaled forcefully. Take the note. Read it. “Gods above and below!” she exclaimed as she scanned the missive, was dressed and at the door in minutes. An Imperial Intelligence agent was waiting. He clicked his heels, and led her away. They were joined by two members of her personal guard. The black Intelligence Ministry van carried them swiftly to the squat, somber building. The van hadn’t stopped when Annika leaped out and raced inside.
“Noire!”
“Here Annika.”
“It’s him? Truly?”
“Yes. And the conspirators as well.”
“All of them.”
“Yes. Would you like to see?”
“Of course!”
Noire escorted her to the elevator. It dropped 10 levels in seconds.
The elevator discharged them into a short, dimly lit hallway. There was a single plain door opposite of the elevator. Annika restrained herself from running.
Beyond the lonely door was a conference room like any other found in the Empire. Wood paneling, a vid dominating one wall. A table and chairs.
A man in an Imperial Army uniform trousers and white shirt. A General’s jacket was laying on the floor and kicked aside. He was splayed akimbo against the right wall. His white hair was disheveled, his eyes bulged, bloodshot, his mouth in a rictus grin.
Annika could see no restraints, though the man was struggling as though to get free. She examined him closely, confirming what she thought she saw. Or rather, didn’t see.
“This is your work, Noire?”
“Yes, a suggestion given to me by Minister Blount. The detainees believe they are being held into place and then I use stimulus to terrorize them. The late Justice Minister managed to break his arm trying to get free in this method of restraint.”
“Impressive. Your skills have grown since you came to Intelligence.”
“Thank you. I am quite proud of this detainee. I have implanted a stimulus that should have him ready to give me the information I seek.”
“Can he hear me?”
“Please. It will be entertaining. You are the image I am using on him right now.”
Annika arched her eyebrows and smiled.
“General…Teague, is it? “she asked, “Of course you are.” Her face took on an orgasmic look of pleasure. “You cannot possibly imagine how pleased I am to finally meet you,” her voice dropped to a sultry purr. “And I am, of course, Crown Princess Annika Raudona Khan.” She bit off each syllable of her name, stretching it to its full import.
“I ‘m sure you know who I am.” She traced a finger along his cheek. Frantic noises came from his throat and he began to shake with even more terror. “You tried to have me killed,” she pouted. “Bad general. That wasn’t very nice of you.”
Then she stretched tall, assumed a regal pose. “No, not very nice indeed. I wonder what it takes for a man of forty years in my father’s and my grandfather’s service to turn on his future Empress. Money? Power? None of that matters now, General. You killed members of my family. You killed one hundred forty thousand souls of my Empire. You tried to kill me. In the end, General, I shall kill you. Your family, your officers and their families will likewise suffer for your treason.”
She whirled away.
“Noire, I want this done.”
“Yes, Sister.”
“Teague and all of his conspirators are to be court marshaled. By officers known to be loyal to us. Contact General Han, he can provide a list. I want it done by next Friday, all of them. The Regent reassumes power the next day; I will not leave this to him.”
“Yes, Sister.”
“And I want the arrests to start immediately and quietly. I will pass sentencing for them before the council.”
“As you have ordered, my Khan.”
Those who saw her leave that early morning cowered. Her face wore eyes of emerald flame. Her mouth was a thin, pleased smile.
Chapter 15
It was to be her last day ruling the Empire, for now. Annika had risen early and taken the walk up the Tower of Dawn. She considered inviting Yuri, but decided this was to be for her and her alone.
It was prepared in the fashion she requested. The water already hot. Annika measured the tea and sugar. The sky lightened, the fiery orb appeared and began its ascent. The tea was, as Master Tahn would say, the perfect tea at the perfect sunrise. She hurled the cup against the wall. The Crown Princess spread her arms as the rays reached out and embraced her, the warmth wrapping around her like a blanket, the glow reflected on her upturned face.
A falcon circled above the desert. It rode a thermal up and down, ever watching the ground below. It arced onto a wing and dove. Just as it looked like it might hit the ground, it flared and struck its prey. It rose again, bearing its next meal.
The perfect sunrise with the perfect tea.
The future Khan was pleased.
Annika sweated and strained through the last workout she would have with Sergeant Pamela Swartz. In just a few weeks, she had become pleased with the way she looked and felt. Her mental well-being and self-confidence had returned. In the mirror as she stretched, she was pleased with the way her body moved under her unitard. Smooth, practiced moves showed her grace, form and …beauty. She studied each tendon as it stretched, as each muscle contracted and expanded. Exquisite. Perfection.
They showered and dressed, Pamela in her uniform, Annika in her preferred loose pants and top. They gave each other a peck on the cheek.
“You will be at my suite today? Before I leave?” asked Annika.
“Of course, Sweetie,” responded her best friend. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world! A chance to see you off on your first real vacation!”
Annika savored her walk to her office. Normally hurried, today she was going to enjoy every moment.
Major Campion had arranged her detail like a relay race, as the Crown Princess would normally outrace her combat ready escort. Her saunter today caught them pleasantly surprised.
As always, Miss Norris greeted her with, “You’re late!” Annika snickered; it was a familiar routine she would miss.
“Yes, Miss Norris,” she called back. “Please send in tea, Miss Norris.”
Inside the door, she whispered, “Dohlman?”
He appeared, as always at her elbow. “Yes, Ma’am?”
“You have it?”
“In your desk, Ma’am. Bottom drawer.”
“Thanks, Dohlman, you’re the best.”
“Indeed.” He disappe
ared.
Annika excitedly waited for Miss Norris to bring in the tea and set it on the credenza. As the older woman turned to leave, Annika cleared her throat.
“Miss Norris, a moment of your time?”
“Yes, Crown Princess?”
“I want to thank you properly for all the help you’ve given me. I know I’ve been difficult, but I’ve tried, really tried. And you taught me so much. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Crown Princess. Will that be all?”
Annika blurted. “I wanted to give you this. A memento of our time together.” She handed Miss Norris a small, beribboned box.
The older woman accepted the gift. Inside, she found a golden pendant watch. The cover was inscribed with the message: To my friend and teacher, Miss Norris. Crown Princess Annika Raudona Khan. Under that inscription, in tiny letters, it read: Annika’s time. Miss Norris read the inscription twice, not understanding the last part of the inscription. Then she noticed the watch face.
The hands ran backwards.
Miss Norris, one not easily amused, displayed her tight-lipped smile, corners of the mouth barely lifting. Nonetheless, her fondness for the young princess hovered in the room. “Thank you,” she said as she fastened it to her sweater. “I shall cherish it always.”
“One more thing,” Annika asked. “When I come back, I’d like you to be my secretary. If you would. Please.”
Miss Norris invested in an almost perceptible nod. “We shall see. Now, you have work to do.”
At nine, the Prime Minister arrived. They set to work immediately. After an hour, Moritz Stype set the last of his papers down. “Crown Princess, we have the memorial decision to make this morning. The architects are waiting in the lower conference room.”
Annika was disappointed. Each architect’s rendering seemed to follow similar themes, whether tall spires or blocky, odd looking lumps of rock and stone, with fountains and ponds galore. Nothing that was exciting or inspiring. She was about to close her eyes and just point, when she noticed a young man sitting on the edge of the stage, sketching on a pad.
Annika wandered over to have a look. He was an assistant to one of the great architects, an unkempt looking boy, his rumpled clothing out of place in her palace.
Annika took his book while he spoke of his drawings. He showed her the drawing on which he was working. It was an image of her wandering through the exhibit, and captured the disappointment on her face!
Then she stopped. An image struck her. It spoke to her. “What is this?” she asked.
He searched his memory for the source of the drawing. “Oh, that,” he finally responded. “It’s village ten klicks from here. It was built centuries ago following some damn war or another. Refugees moved in and just never left. They used the methods that have always been used here, straw reinforced mud brick, covered with a gypsum paste to reflect the heat. The roofs are made from leaves and branches taken from forests.”
“This is what I’m looking for!” she gasped. “Look, like this.” She took his note pad and drew an oval. “This is the Plaza. At the open end, we build the village. It doesn’t have to be full sized. And we leave the roofs off so sunlight is always shining in. We put a plinth inside to hold the sarcophagi. We’ll try to keep families together, of course. This will be a memorial, not just to those who died on that terrible day, but a memorial to anyone who dies in service to my Empire!”
She called the Prime Minister, voiced her plan. He looked dubious, but finally agreed. “This Necropolis of yours would seem to be an excellent plan for our future, Crown Princess...”
Annika beamed. She dismissed the other architects and ordered work to begin, immediately.
Annika returned to work. She had only one meeting in the afternoon with Gavin Howland, Minister of Defense. Despite her original misgivings about this minister, she had found him a loyal and dedicated servant to the Empire.
She would need that loyalty in council.
“Everything is in readiness, Crown Princess,” he announced. “The court martials were finished this morning. All conspirators guilty on all counts, as expected. Intelligence has rounded up the families as we discussed. They are being held, awaiting your decision.”
“No regrets, Minister?”
“None Crown Princess. If we don’t nip this in the bud now, how far would it travel? No! Execute the traitors, now, publicly. Punish the families. It will be a harsh warning to anyone who considers attacking your Empire.”
“Very well. Send the message. Convene my council in an hour.”
He bowed and left the room.
In her quarters, Annika fingered her uniform sadly. It might be years before she donned it again. This uniform meant the universe to her. The acceptance of the Imperial Army assured she would have the muscle to enforce her law. Today would serve as a warning to any who would defy her.
She dressed carefully. The uniform must be perfect. A servant brushed and braided her hair. “Stand straight, not a hair out of place.” It rang through her head over and over.
Finally, it was time. Major Campion had selected the five finest troopers in the Empire. They wore full combat dress per her orders. Save for a single attachment. Each wore a blood red sash. Thus adorned, they marched behind their Crown Princess.
The doors opened the moment they approached. Annika led her entourage directly to the throne. It had been lowered to her diminutive size. No repeat of her first visit here.
Gavin Howland stood. “Bring him,” he commanded. A side door opened and a pair of soldiers dragged an older man to the center of the chamber. He shook them off, stood painfully and saluted. “General Mason Teague, reporting as ordered.”
“Noire has done his work well,” thought Annika.
“General Mason Anderson Teague, you have been found guilty of the crimes of murder, assault, dereliction of duties, abandoning your post, disobedience of orders and treason with malice toward the crown by a court martial of your peers,” read the Defense Minister. “The mandatory sentence for these crimes is death. Are you prepared to receive sentencing before the crown for the crimes for which you have been found guilty?”
The general wavered. Then in as firm a voice as he could manage, he responded, “I do not recognize the validity or authority of this court. This tribunal is illegal by the laws of…” he got no further; one of the guards punched him in the stomach.
The whole room was quiet save for the coughing of the old general. He struggled again to his feet.
Annika sat regally. “You don’t recognize the legality of this court,” she said. “You do not recognize my authority. The authority laid down by the laws of my ancestor, the Great Khan himself. You refute the traditions and regulations you have faithfully served for forty-three years.
I was prepared to be merciful, General,” her voice rose. “Look at what you have done to me! You have attacked my Empire using filthy mercenaries! Augmentons! You used augmentons against me! Me, your sovereign! You attacked and murdered one hundred thirty-nine thousand of my loyal subjects! You murdered my family!”
She was breathing heavily. “I see no room for any mercy for you. You, your co-conspirators. Your families. Your officers are sentenced to death, to be publicly hung by the neck until dead. Their families are to be taken to the mines of Nikuman, to be of service to my Empire until death. Your wife and children will join them.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Now do you respect my authority?”
Then General worked his mouth. “Freak!”
The Crown Princess moved too fast to see, taking the rifle from the nearest soldier and in nanoseconds was standing in front of the general, the rifle raised. She fired the rifle in full automatic. The General’s body jerked and twisted, falling in a messy heap. She continued to fire, emptying the weapon into his body. When it was finally empty, she stood over the remains, her breath coming in great gasps. Annika handed the rifle to one of her guards, then pointed at the body.
“This. This is the price for standin
g against me. This is the price for standing against my Empire!”
She braced herself to her full four feet ten inches and marched from the council chamber.
Pamela was in the suite, waiting. They stripped Annika’s uniform off and carefully folded it for storage. Annika took a quick shower, changed into a bright floral sundress. She spun in front of a mirror, delighted with her reflection. Never had she dressed this way. It was light and comfortable. She looked and felt beautiful.
“Pamela, am I pretty?” The older woman took her young friend’s hands. “Sweetie, you’re beautiful. Yuri is such a lucky man.” Annika beamed and picked up a clutch purse. “Am I holding this right?”
The girls giggled. “My knife doesn’t fit in here,” she complained, after trying to put it in the clutch.
Pamela snorted. “Do you think you’ll need that to use on your man?” She took it and promised, “I’ll pack the wicked thing in your bag.”
They strolled through the palace, chatting amicably, to the garage. Yuri was waiting by a flier. “I’ll see you soon,” Annika promised her friend as she skipped to the flier.
Pamela watched the couple embrace and leap into the air car. It lifted off the platform, turning slowly. Annika twisted and waved to her friend as the ship climbed and slipped away. She waved until she could no longer see the air car. Dejected, Sergeant Pamela Swartz returned to her job.
Chapter 16
Yuri guided the craft up and over Cairo and the Nile delta. He slid the top of the flier back and they enjoyed the warm sun and cool breeze. He placed his hand behind his head and sighed, loudly and happily.
“On vacation,” he smiled, “At last!” Annika copied his movements, tucking her hands behind her head.
“This is great,” she exclaimed. “Now what do we do?”
He shook his head. “We’re doing it. Nothing.”
“Oh,” Annika sat quietly for a moment. “How long do we do this?”
“You’ve never taken a vacation before?” asked Yuri.
“Nope. First time.” Annika quipped. “Growing up, every minute was planned for us. Eating, sleeping, and studying. Even toilet. Working in the office the two months have been the same thing.”