by K. B. Wagers
Bial, mother’s Ekam, looked equally shocked, and the face of the pretty BodyGuard standing next to him was so crestfallen I had to choke back hysterical laughter. No doubt she’d been the one picked to be my primary and thought it was some kind of honor.
“Swear on your life, Tracker?” my mother asked with a smile on her face. It was impressive how she circumvented the normal formality of the BodyGuard oath with those five words.
“Your Majesty, my partner.” There was just enough desperation hovering behind Emmory’s words to make me feel sorry for him, and out of the corner of my eye I saw how pale Zin was.
If she said no, this was going to get ugly. I was willing to put good money down that one or both of them would go crazy and die if they were forced to part ways.
“Ah, yes. A separation would be most unpleasant.” A strange smile curved Mother’s mouth. “Starzin may accompany you as BodyGuard also, Emmorlien. I will let you pick the rest of your team as you see fit, with the exception of Nalmari here. She shall be your Dve. As your second-in-command, she can help you learn the requirements of your role.” She waved a hand at the woman to Bial’s left. “Does that suit?”
“Yes, Majesty,” Emmory said, because it was really the only answer he could give.
“Then swear on your lives.”
“I swear, Your Imperial Majesty,” Emmory replied. Zin echoed him just a moment later.
“Good. It is done then.”
“Your Majesty.” Bial was choosing his words carefully. “Tresk is an accomplished Tracker, a fine officer of the empire, but he has not been trained—” He broke off when Mother raised a hand.
“Nalmari can be his Dve, as we said. We are sure whatever gaps there may be in his outstanding abilities can be filled in quickly by a competent second-in-command.”
“Majesty, it is traditionally improper to have a man guard the princess—”
“Don’t argue with us, Bial,” she snapped.
“I would never, Your Majesty.”
“Good.” She swayed in her seat for a moment, and I stopped myself from jumping forward. Mother closed her eyes, her face paling until the skin on her cheeks was like old paper. She opened her eyes and fixed them on me. They were fever bright.
“Your sisters have gone to temple, Hailimi. Best that you go clean up and present yourself to the priests. We will speak with you again at a decent hour.” She rose from the throne with difficulty, grasping Bial’s offered hand and using it to steady herself.
“Mother, I—”
I stopped myself, swallowing back the rest of the sentence, but it was too late.
“Your sisters have gone to temple.” Now the cold, royal voice I’d always hated came from my mother’s mouth. “Two loyal daughters lost to us. All we have left is one unfit, ungrateful daughter who wished to see the universe more than she loved her own flesh and blood. You are a disgrace to the sahotra. Know that we didn’t want you back, but you are all we have left. Go see the fruits of your selfishness.”
Her words punched the air out of my lungs, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming as my mother turned her back on me and walked away.
6
I stared after my mother, my thoughts whirling as madly as Hassin Dervishes. Telling me I was a disgrace to the family wasn’t a surprise, but it shouldn’t have stung quite as much as it did.
Welcome home, Hail.
I was fucked. Completely and totally fucked. With two Trackers as my BodyGuards, the odds of me escaping once I’d dealt with my sisters’ murderers had just dropped into the Underworld.
You gave your word anyway, remember? Or at least Emmory thinks you did. The voice in my head seemed pretty amused by my panicked thoughts and not at all shy in reminding me what I’d said to Emmory onboard the ship.
I promised to return home and do my duty. Just because my idea of duty and his were different didn’t mean anything. But my new Ekam had done his research before he retrieved me. Promises might not mean much here at home—in fact, I was pretty sure that in the upper echelons of Indranan society people prided themselves on the lies they could tell and the promises they could break.
The world I’d grown up in was different. The gunrunners who’d taken me in as family had a better sense of honor than any of the royal blood of Indrana and they’d instilled it in me.
The question was, which side did I count myself a part of: gunrunner or princess? It was with no small sense of irony that I felt guilty about the intent behind my promise.
“Your Imperial Highness, allow me to present myself.” The voice of my Dve had the musical lilt of one of the island nations on the far side of the planet.
I turned to look into a pair of warm brown eyes. Nalmari bowed, all trace of her shock now hidden, and I hid my racing panic with equal skill.
Welcome home to the world where no one says what they mean or allows their emotions to show.
That was fine. I didn’t need it. Court life was brutal, but it still maintained some semblance of civility. In my world—the world in which I’d spent the last twenty years—you either learned how to read people quickly or you died.
“I am Nalmari Zaafir Windhausen,” she continued, bowing again with her eyes locked on the floor at my feet. The good news about this particular custom meant I could study her with impunity for a few seconds.
I eyed my second-in-command BodyGuard as my instincts set up a chorus of alarm bells.
Her shoulders were tense, for one. Now this could be a result of the shock of her sudden demotion, or it could be from something else. She looked earnest enough on the outside, but there had been a flicker of something unpleasant lurking in her eyes before the politeness dropped into place. At the moment, though, I was inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Tradition held that the Ekam of the empress was male. My ancestor-grandmother’s twin brother had miraculously avoided the Shakti dementia and taken over the role of protecting her when her husband died. The practice held throughout the years. The Ekams of the royal children were always female. No doubt my mother had thought to insult me by saddling me with a male Ekam instead.
She couldn’t have known that it was probably my best hope for survival to have Emmory as my Ekam. I was suddenly grateful for my Trackers’ presence. Maybe I couldn’t trust them fully, but I could trust them more than anyone else in the palace.
“Nalmari.” I dipped my head in greeting. I could play along with whatever game was under way here at the palace. I could also take this woman apart if it became necessary. I didn’t need anyone to protect me. “I trust you know where my quarters are.”
If she was put off by my liquid nitrogen tone, she didn’t give me the satisfaction of showing it. “Of course, Your Highness. This way.”
“You walk with me.” I caught Emmory by the arm before he could fall into step with Nalmari. Zin took his place, his hand brushing over Emmory’s forearm as though to reassure himself they were still together. Emmory met his gaze with a slight nod.
I let them get ahead of us before I spoke. “How deep are we in this?”
“I don’t know, Highness. You rest first, then we’ll deal with whatever we need to as it arises.”
“Actually, first we need to go say good-bye to my sisters.”
Emmory nodded sharply. We crossed the throne room, exiting out the same door as my mother. The plain steel hid behind a garish tapestry of white and gold, and I felt a bit claustrophobic as we left the massive, high-ceilinged room for the narrow corridor leading to the family wing.
Here in the enclosed space the familiar smell of sandalwood and Olbivai honey was stronger. The hand-rolled incense stuck in the brass holder threw lazy loops of smoke into the air beneath the statue of Nataraja. The base of the statue was buried in deep red flowers called kislana, which were similar to the Earth lotus.
I noticed that all three of my BodyGuards touched the statue and murmured prayers as we passed. Rolling my eyes, I resisted the urge to point out that non
e of Shiva’s incarnations had done fuck all to keep my sisters safe. Instead I settled for giving the dancing god a cold look and headed on down the hallway.
The edges of my cloak brushed over the hand-painted tiles, dragging up memories better left floating in space with Sophie’s remains. We passed servants who dropped into low bows and curtsies with murmurs of “Your Imperial Highness,” but otherwise they went about their duties without paying me much heed.
I counted steps to keep myself from going insane. Seven hundred and eighteen steps later, Nalmari stopped outside a wooden door I knew was lined with polysteel. She pressed her palm to the panel set in the plastered wall, and gave Emmory an almost defiant look. “They expected me to—”
“It’s all right, Nal,” Emmory said, holding up a hand. “We’ll get it sorted out.”
Nalmari nodded, her dreads jerking with the movement, and looked at me. “If you will, Princess? So the computer can code your new readings.”
I pressed my hand to the panel, felt it grow warm under my palm, and the door clicked open. Nal and Zin went in. I started to follow, only to be brought up short by Emmory’s hand on my arm.
“You really want to find out what happens when you grab me again?” I asked dryly.
“When you learn to wait, I won’t have to do it anymore. I’m your Ekam, and I’ll grab you if it means keeping you safe. You’re a princess, not a gunrunner,” he countered. “Let your BodyGuards check it out first, Highness.”
“They’re my rooms!” I stared at him in shock. “If I’m not safe here—”
“Your sisters were murdered, Highness, one of them potentially in her rooms. Right now our job is to assume nothing is safe.” He cut me off with a wave of his gloved hand. “Now will you stop arguing with me so I can listen?”
“If you stop calling me Highness every five minutes.”
He gave me a flat look. I snapped my mouth shut, crossed my arms over my chest, and lapsed into silence. Several long moments later, Nalmari emerged with a nod.
“It’s clear. You may enter, Princess.” She gestured at the open door. I stepped past both of them into my quarters, barely resisting the urge to slam the door in their faces.
These weren’t my old rooms—the ones I’d shared with my sisters—instead Mother had put me on the far side of the wing, in a suite of rooms normally reserved for visiting family.
Cute.
The doorway opened into a short, narrow hallway designed for ease of defense by only a BodyGuard or two. That hallway led to a wide, sprawling room with massive windows. One of the windows was open and I could hear the waves of the ocean roaring beneath the howling wind. A shimmering force field that kept the weather out and the heat in made its presence known only by the occasional ping of sleet that struck it, sending circles of blue belling outward across the surface.
A fire crackled in the copper-lined fireplace; I smoothed a hand over the rose quartz mantel, the stone warm to the touch from the heat of the fire. This palace had been built from the ground up with materials from Earth, and even after our break with the Solarian Conglomerate some twenty-five hundred years ago, we still bought materials from them for repairs. As far as I was concerned, tradition made people do silly things.
Three doorways led from the main room. I tossed cursory glances into the two bedrooms, but it was the bathroom that drew my attention.
A wide wooden tub, the polished surface dark against the cool blue paint above it, dominated the room, and a shower, lined in the same wood, was tucked into the corner. A low counter ran under a wide mirror, and a gleaming copper bowl stood on the far end under a spout that came directly from that slate-tiled wall. Behind another door was the toilet, and there was a connecting door to the larger of the two bedrooms.
I leaned over the tub, pressing a few buttons in the panel set just above it. Water began to bubble up from the bottom, and the air filled with the smell of eucalyptus and lemons.
Wandering back out into the main room, I caught the tail end of a conversation between Emmory and Nal.
“I’m assuming the empress had some people tasked for BodyGuard duty when she received the news that the princess was coming home. I’d like the files on them and get them into the BodyGuard quarters next door. I want to meet with them,” Emmory said.
“Now?”
“Of course now.”
Nalmari recoiled from the derisive lash of Emmory’s voice, drawing herself up with a hiss of offended breath.
“The princess’s safety won’t wait for the sunrise, Nal. I need to be able to make a decision for a core team within the hour. Go get it done.”
I watched her eyes narrow and her mouth thin. The hair on the back of my neck stood to attention as she saluted and walked out the door. My Trackers watched her leave, and shared a look.
“I’m going to clean up,” I said.
“Highness.”
I paused, but didn’t turn back to Emmory. “Yes?”
“At the risk of being forward, I dislike the feel of this.” His voice was soft, and my skin prickled at his admission. It was an odd thing for him to say and I wondered if it felt as forced as it sounded to my ears. We were stuck in roles as unsuited to our personalities as could be imagined.
He’d been right on the ship—I didn’t have any choice but to trust him. It helped that my own intuition was screaming right now. “I’m right there with you,” I replied.
“Zin will be here if you need anything. I’ll be next door.”
I raised a hand then continued into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. Scrubbing both hands over my face, I muttered a furious curse. The twist in my stomach became a vicious knot that lunged up and wrapped around my heart, its sharp wire teeth biting deep.
My heart shredded as the wire snapped taut. I didn’t even try to stop the moan of agony that ripped through the air. My knees gave out and I sank to the floor, grief dragging sobs from me in painful gasps. I was grateful for the sound of running water to conceal my weeping as I wrapped my arms around my waist and curled into a ball.
They were gone. Really and truly gone. Mother’s dementia would kill her. Portis was gone. Hao would probably kill me on sight if he saw me again for lying to him. I was orphaned.
Keep it together, Hail.
I didn’t want to keep it together. I just wanted to hide in here until it all went away and I woke up back on Sophie.
It’s not a nightmare. Pull your shit together. You can’t come at this like some rookie. There was Hao again, reaching across space to slap some sense into me. It was thanks to him as much as Portis that I was still alive. They’d gotten me out of more scrapes and tight spots until I figured out how to do it for myself. He’d taught me everything he knew, treated me with a patience he never showed to anyone else, and then had let me go to explore the universe on my own without a single word of protest.
He’d also never hesitated to kick my ass when it was called for and now it seemed like he was reaching across the stars to pull me up short.
You have a job to do here and dead sisters you should pay your respects to. I’ve never seen you back down from anything. Don’t disappoint me now.
Toeing off my boots, I pushed to my feet, stripped, and tossed my clothes into the corner. A quick rinse off in the shower, and then I sank into the bath. The heat flooded through me. Closing my eyes, I rested my head back on the edge and let the water ease my tension.
The first order of business was to get hooked back up to the palace network. Until that happened, I was floating around blind. Of course, linking back into the palace would be both a blessing and a curse. I’d get instant updates about news across the universe without having to link into a news server. I could call up the names of people I encountered with just a thought.
But I’d be traceable. Linked to my BodyGuards, to the damn palace. Hell, probably to the planet. Emmory would have access to my vital signs as would the rest of my team.
A thrice-damned gilded cage. The development of the B
rain Computer Interface started on Old Earth, before the SC, even before we hit the stars with serious intent. An array of five microscopic chips inserted into key areas of the brain used our own neurons and pathways as power and conduits to create a permanent interface. The BCI was a triumph of science.
Like most triumphs, it jumped the gun. The first versions were glitchy, prone to hacks, and something like the original spaceflight vessels. Far too bulky and dangerous.
Still, I had little problem believing that people jumped at the chance. The chance to increase one’s cognitive abilities, to have instant recall of anything stored on your home system. For the ability to call or contact anyone just by thinking about it. Or to take a photo with the blink of an eye.
The SC called the tech NeuroNet after the antiquated Internet system on Earth. The Cheng called it simply zhù. The Indranan Empire called it smati.
My cyberware was better than average, possibly not as good as Emmory’s military-grade ware, but still a damn sight better than most of the thugs I’d done business with over the years.
“No time like the present.” I took a deep breath and connected. The network freaked on me for a few seconds as it tried to reconcile my new information with the data that had once been logged for Princess Hailimi, but someone had been on the ball, and after a moment it accepted my DNA log-in. Just like that I had access to the palace.
A lot of access, my gunrunner brain realized a little gleefully, and I had to shake some sense back into myself. We’d gotten ourselves into so much trouble at times, my sisters and I, when we’d been kids until Dad had locked down our access to the palace network.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, staving off the inevitable tears and grabbing for the towel by the side of the tub. “You’re alone, Hail. Just suck it up and deal with it instead of flailing around like a useless git.”
I dressed myself without much conscious thought, grabbing at the appropriate pieces with numb hands and somehow completing impossible tasks like minuscule buttons and side laces without the help of a maid. I was amazed everything fit, but my amusement turned to grief when I realized Portis must have passed my measurements on to someone here as they prepared for my return home.