Baron Revenant cracked his knuckles. The noise, amplified by the chamber’s acoustic design, sounded like breaking bones. “Beg your pardon Baron Mitsugawa, but when the war ends and funding can return to civil projects and contracts, there will be a surplus large enough to repay that debt plus the interest accrued—”
“Baron Revenant, not only are you out of order but you are wrong. I have the floor here, Speaker. Should your proposal go through, the Confederation will need a lender to continue its operation past this year. Of the two hundred baronies that make up this body, only ten are capable of lending that much credit. Of those ten, you control seven either by direct majority share ownership, or by intimidation——”
“I resent that remark, Baron.” Baron Revenant did not shout, but said the words in quiet tones that sent chills down Cylus’ back.
“Resent it if you must, but it is true. Of those ten corporate bodies, only the Intelligent Systems, Keltan Securities, and Shiragawa Zaibatsu are capable of making this enormous loan and not under your influence. A loan of this size would drop the value of all of our stock, enabling you to sweep in and buy us all out. That, in turn, would indebt the Confederation to you and you alone, Baron Revenant. I’ve had my people go over the numbers. I invite all of you barons and baronesses to view them on your screens.” Baron Mitsugawa pressed a button on his podium, and the screens built into the desks in each Barony box lit up with the figures.
Cylus studied them. A long time ago he might have been able to make sense of the numbers in an instant, but he was out of practice. He was still working them out when he heard several gasps in the audience; predictably none were from the Mercantile Party members. Several more followed from the Cleebian and Relaen baronies. The latter was accentuated by a sea of twitching ear-points.
“These numbers are a fabrication,” Baron Revenant said.
“They are not. I beg this chamber’s forgiveness for delivering these late but I had to be sure they were correct. I also remind them that if they are, Baron Revenant, you are guilty of more than just stock manipulation,” Baron Mitsugawa said.
“What does he mean?” Cylus asked Sable.
Sable leaned in close enough that Cylus could smell the cherry wax in his hair. “My father was talking about it last night. If the Barony votes in his favor, it will show that they found Baron Revenant’s plot to take total financial control of the Confederation credible. If they find that, it opens the way for a ‘Conspiracy to Commit Treason’ charge.”
Cylus’ eyebrows drifted up. “If that could stick—”
“We’d be rid of our old enemy forever. His entire family would be ruined.” Sable was breathing hard, like a lover after the fact.
Cylus nodded. He shared his friend’s hope, but not his optimism. Baron Revenant had proven time and time again in the past that he could blackmail, intimidate, and even murder his enemies without repercussions. His influence was simply too great. Cylus hoped with all his heart that Sable and his father had the Big Bad Wolf by the tail this time, but he couldn’t allow himself to be optimistic. If Zalor was responsible for his family’s deaths, he knew their souls would not be avenged here on the Barony floor.
Baron Revenant descended from his podium and crossed the space between himself and Baron Mitsugawa with bold steps. His gait showed a disheartening confidence. When he reached the podium he looked up at his opponent, and for a time Cylus thought he might pull out a gun and kill his friend’s father on the spot. He was relieved when the mask of anger broke into a sheepish smile on Baron Revenant’s face. He offered his hand to Baron Mitsugawa and whispered something.
Baron Mitsugawa shook it, his own expression softened somewhat but still held on to an air of suspicion. He waited until Baron Revenant returned to his podium before speaking.
“Baron Revenant has just let me know that he wishes his own accountants to go over the figures I have offered up as evidence to this body of government. I move, in the spirit of cooperation, that we adjourn so that all of our accountants may do the same.”
“What’s he doing? He has Baron Revenant by the balls,” Cylus said.
Sable leaned away from him and conferred with his sister in whispers before returning to Cylus’ side. “I think father believes that if the barons have a chance to review the evidence, it will convince more of them that he is right and swing the vote in our favor. If we voted now it could go either way.”
Cylus nodded. It made a degree of sense, but he felt something was amiss. That handshake had been out of character for Baron Revenant, even a shut in like him knew the man was not one to offer a hand to an opponent.
“This is why I hate being here, nothing ever gets done.” He sighed.
“You hate being here for a lot more reasons than that, Cy. We’ll do it this time, I promise. I know you want to leave, but please stay until the next session. I’m sure there’ll be a vote then.” Sable patted him on the back.
“There better be.” He slumped in his seat.
“I second Baron Mitsugawa’s motion,” Baron Revenant said. “All in favor?”
There was a chorus of “aye’s.”
“Motion carries. See you all again in ten days’ time.” Baron Revenant struck his podium with a golden sphere reserved for that purpose.
The session was over.
The barons began to rise from their seats and the din of their activity filled the air.
Cylus groaned. Ten days before there would even be a chance to see if he could go home. He regretted his outburst back on Earth more now than ever. He was about to complain when he noticed Baroness Altair was not headed for the exit like the rest of her section, but was moving down the rows towards Baron Revenant’s box and looking very unhappy about it. He tapped Sable on the shoulder and pointed.
Motion from Sable’s opposite side caught his eye. Heir-Representative Cronus and Baroness Cronus were maneuvering around Sophi towards the glass divider that separated their sections. Sable’s mother, Aurora, stared right at him. She gestured for him to approach.
“Baron Keltan, will you join us for dinner this evening?” Her voice was firm, with undertones of iron despite the layers of high culture and femininity stacked upon it. Sable’s aunt Hephestia may have been the Baroness of Intelligent Systems, Inc., but it was her sister Aurora who was the better orator.
“I’d be pleased.” He glanced at Sophi. Accepting not only made Aurora happy, but gave him a chance to visit with her after.
“Good. We’ll see you tonight at our tower.” Aurora’s blue eyes sparkled.
Sophi pushed past her mother and leaned in, her hood enveloping Cylus’ face creating their own small bubble of privacy within its darkness. Her lilac perfume set his groin twitching in small, electric jolts.
“Mother has something in mind. Be on guard tonight,” she whispered.
“Oh.” Cylus’ shoulders slumped.
On Kosfanter the Great Houses made their homes in kilometer-tall towers of varying designs instead of floating arcologies. Ikuzlu’s Galactic Quarter was a sierra of geometric shapes and swooping angles that cast odd shadows on the poorer neighborhoods across the lagoon.
The Intelligent Systems tower had four right-triangular sections of dark-blue poly-glass standing at right angles to one another. They supported a large silver egg-shaped section with the wide end facing up and longitudinal electric blue lines tracing from its apex to its nadir. The egg housed the central offices and spacious living quarters of the Cronus family, while the four triangular structures housed the offices and banks of computer servers that made up the Intelligent Systems’ headquarters.
The Cronuses tended to eat in the smaller of two dining halls in the tower. The table seated ten. There was an oval alcove with a crackling fire behind the table’s head. The chamber, modeled in white marble, was lined by domed sconces on two of the four opposing walls. At the end of the table opposite the fireplace was a huge picture window through which could be seen distant clouds over calm seas lit orange, pink, a
nd red by the setting sun.
Sable and Sophiathena were already in the room when Cylus entered behind an artificial servant. The latter bowed and left promptly with its head high in the air. Cylus’ friends rose from their seats and bowed formally to him. Sophi lifted her gloved hands and drew back her hood.
His gaze followed her white braids up to where snowy hair framed her narrow, chalky face. Arctic blue eyes regarded him, making him feel like she was studying his appearance for flaws before she smiled slightly and nodded. Cylus had never grown comfortable with her dissecting him like that, but as usual he did his best to shrug it off. She judged everyone and everything around her with those eyes so he knew he shouldn’t take it personally. Others in her past had not been so understanding.
There were rumors that Sophi was really an artificial and not human, but he knew her differently. Her eyes warmed when they were in private, becoming the friendly, beautiful things he liked to gaze upon. She was a full person behind closed doors, full of life and an overwhelming intelligence. It was only in public that she was so guarded.
“Welcome brother.” Sable came around the table and hugged him.
“I’m glad you made it.” Sophi took her turn next. She added a brief kiss on his cheek before stepping back.
“Are you going to be all right?” He gestured towards the window.
“The light is sufficiently dim now, and the glass is polarized to block ultra-violet wavelengths,” Sophi said.
The door behind Cylus opened. He turned and had to hop out of the servant’s way. Black pupils set in white orbs met his eyes, sending a shiver down his back. It was one of the ways the industry marked artificials, making them without iris or skin pigment so one knew who was human and what wasn’t, but Cylus didn’t like the way it looked. If he could, he would have Ben’s pigmentation changed.
“The Baroness Hephestia Cronus, the Baron Yoji Mitsugawa, and Heir-Representative Aurora Cronus,” the servant said.
Those named entered the room in that order. Hephestia and her sister Aurora were both dressed in sparkling evening gowns of silver cloth studded with diamonds around the hem and cuffs. The dress’ cut did more to emphasize Aurora’s round figure than Hephestia’s narrow one, but it did go well with their honey blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes. His former step-uncle, Yoji, had changed into a formal black kimono and still had his hair up in the cue. His dark, narrow eyes were pensive, and his brow showed the lines of hard thinking.
Cylus bowed as they entered, and they returned the gesture formally.
“Baron Keltan, I’m happy to see you here tonight,” Yoji said.
“Please call me Cylus, uncle. The baron thing makes me uncomfortable.” Yoji and the Cronuses were the last living links to his own parents, even if he was no longer technically related to them. Titles were too formal for people so close to him.
Yoji smiled. “Cylus, please sit.”
Hephestia cleared her throat.
“Sorry, my lady,” Yoji said and bowed to the master of the tower.
“Good to see you looking whole again, Cylus. You’re always welcome at my table.” She emphasized “my” and glared at Yoji.
His face broke into a smile.
Cylus waited for them to take their seats before sitting in his. The chairs were high backed, made from native wood and leather, and very comfortable. The table was set with the Cronus’ fine china, glass goblets, and an eight stick candle-holder in the center with twigs of white-berried holly arranged around its base on a red lace doily.
Hephestia raised a bell that was placed near the head of the table and rang it once. A train of servants entered and filled the waiting goblets with dark-red wine. When the cups were full she raised hers and the small silver bells tied into her curly blonde hair jingled.
“To our health, and Yoji’s success. May Zalor fail and the Confederation be saved,” she said.
They all drank. Cylus took only a single mouthful of the sweet wine before placing his cup down. He didn’t want to repeat the other night when his inebriated state nearly caused him to pass out in Sophi’s bed. It wasn’t that he thought his aunts would care, but it would be embarrassing if they found him in such a situation.
Hephestia rang the bell again. The servants brought in a large bowl of Greek salad and began serving them in synchronized motions. The second wave brought silver trays bearing courses of dark-green grape leaf rolls, golden-brown loaves of roasted lamb surrounded by a bed of seasoned potatoes and slices of lemon. The scent of garlic, oregano, and well-cooked meat made Cylus worry that he might drool all over himself before the food was even on the table.
“Father, I have a question,” Sable said between bites.
Yoji nodded.
“What did Baron Revenant say to you on the floor before we adjourned? Cylus and I were trying to figure it out but we couldn’t. We’ve never seen him act like that before.”
“I found it odd as well. He told me I had played the card well and that he’d have a response for me soon, but also that he’d do me the courtesy of buying me time to reconsider.” Yoji shrugged.
Sable snorted. “In other words he let you know he has something up his sleeve and your move would be ineffective?”
“Something like that, I’m sure.” Yoji nodded.
“It’s still not like him,” Sophi said. She speared a single olive on her fork and placed it carefully in her mouth.
“He hasn’t been known to announce his moves before.” Yoji stabbed the salad and scooped a portion into his mouth.
“He’s got to be up to something. Did you see how uncomfortable that whore, Brudah, was?” Hephestia said.
“Baroness Altair? She wasn’t happy about something, but it couldn’t have been what Zalor did. He didn’t really give anything away.” Aurora signaled the servants to bring bread.
“Maybe her daughter’s decided to help out another of her enemies? Who knows? She’s one of the co-conspirators against the Confederation, and that’s all that matters,” Hephestia said.
“Her daughter?” Cylus didn’t know Baroness Altair had any children.
Aurora glanced meaningfully at her sister. Sophi and Sable were staring at Hephestia along with him.
“It’s not public knowledge, but she does have one. I’m sorry I brought it up, it’s nothing you kids need worry about.” Hephestia pressed her lips together and picked at her food.
Cylus opened his mouth, but caught Yoji’s stare.
“Let it go,” the older man said.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
Sophi and Sable exchanged suspicious looks. Cylus knew then that Sophi was already on the Cyberweb with her implant, looking up whatever she could find on this mysterious daughter. Very little could stay hidden from Sophi once she got an itch to know something.
Silence hung heavily in the air.
Aurora cleared her throat. “You kids might as well know the important parts of what’s going on without hearing the idle gossip of old barons. Right before the war began we arranged for an agent, a mercenary of sorts, to go to Ganymede and infiltrate Brudah’s compound there. Our agent got a hold of some encrypted files that proved to be very interesting reading. We’ve learned a lot from those files, enough to know that Zalor is making some kind of grab at the Premier’s chair, but not enough to know exactly how or when.”
“It’s been seven years, so whatever his plan is, it’s slow, methodical, and therefore very hard to detect. We haven’t learned much more since then,” Yoji said.
“Did it implicate him in my parents’ death?” Cylus said a bit sharper than he meant. All eyes turned to him and he found himself frowning back at them, blushing.
Yoji and Aurora exchanged glances.
“The files implied that Baron Revenant was arranging for some things to happen; a shipment to Cleeb from Sol, funds transferred from various accounts, that sort of thing. The more interesting parts were the people involved. Baron Revenant, Baroness Altair, and Zalor’s little pet, Baron Olivaar.” Yoj
i said.
“Did any of it imply him in my family’s massacre? Did he make some deal with the Brogh to kill them?”
“Nothing that straightforward Cylus, I’m sorry,” Aurora said, seemingly hugging him with her eyes.
Yoji glanced at Aurora. “There was one thing though, a mention of some cargo being shipped into Broghite space. The dates of the shipment would’ve gotten it there about fourteen days before your family was killed.”
“What was it?” Cylus leaned forward with his palms digging into the edge of the table.
“It didn’t say, just a codename,” Aurora said.
“It’s nothing to go on, Cylus. We haven’t been able to learn anything more about the name or what the ship—” Hephestia said.
“What was it?” Cylus interrupted.
“The codename was Siren. That’s all we know about it. Cylus, I’m sorry. Your parents were good people, your siblings too. I used to bounce Sando on my knee when he was a baby. I feel for your loss but—” Yoji said.
“But what?” Cylus said. Being ten years older than Sable or Sophi, he knew he remembered some of those moments better than they did. He watched as Yoji and his father had talked, laughed, drank together, but that didn’t excuse keeping him in the dark for seven years. He had nothing to go on, nothing at all until this moment.
Yoji abruptly looked confused, like he didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. His fork rang out as it hit the floor.
“Darling?” Aurora said.
He blinked. “Sorry, what was I saying?”
“About the Keltans,” Aurora almost whispered the words.
“Right, so your parents were, were—” Yoji stood up abruptly. “Siren, that was the name, I—ah—”
Sable and Sophi were on their feet.
“Father?”
Yoji moved, heading for the window. Sable attempted to get in his way, but the larger man grabbed his son’s wrist and twisted the boy’s body off to the side.
Blood Siren Page 8