Harmony

by C. F. Bentley

  “Laudae, no.” Jake grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly until she looked up into his face.

  She didn’t like the fear and anger she saw in his eyes. For the first time since meeting him, she understood that this man had killed people with his myriad weapons. He would kill again on her behalf. Without guilt.

  “I don’t want that kind of power,” she whispered to herself.

  But he heard her. “What kind of power is that, Laudae?”

  “The power to impel you to kill people.”

  Shock made his jaw drop. He let go of her shoulders and stepped away.

  “Jake?”

  He walked to the window overlooking the community square, turning his back on her. “Do what you must, My Laudae. I will do what I must.”

  Sissy mastered her need to run and hide in the back of the closet. “Girls, we will wash and change and then walk out.”

  Jake’s shoulders stiffened, and his jaw clenched.

  “We will do what the Crystal Temple should have done. Reassure all of Harmony that we are safe even if there is evil afoot elsewhere. And don’t worry, Mama, I’ll take care of my family as I take care of all Harmony.”

  “For as long as Temple and Noble let you,” Jake muttered.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  "MY LAUD.” GUILLIAM APPROACHED Gregor’s desk with a smirk only half hidden behind his usual formal demeanor. “I think you need to turn on the television.”

  “I’ll watch the news later. . . .” Gregor surveyed the damage reports on his desk alongside estimates of rebuilding half the residential wing. The Construction sect of Professional caste wanted a year and twice the amount of money the wing had cost to build in the first place. Unconscionable. They weren’t dealing with uneducated Workers who could be bilked of every credit they’d earn for the rest of their lives. He’d give them half the money and three months to do the work.

  That should teach them to keep within the guidelines of “reasonable profit” outlined in the Covenant.

  “Now, My Laud.”

  The firm authority in Guilliam’s voice grated on Gregor. Maybe it was time to rotate the man out to the rural Temples, teach him a little humility. All of Harmony needed to learn a lot of humility. Maybe he should find a way to elevate that attribute to godhood instead of Discord.

  Nevertheless, Gregor swiveled his chair to the small unit on the credenza behind him. He expected the usual afternoon serial dramas beloved by the masses that featured ancient times with the gods and goddesses blatantly interfering with daily life. About every three years he had to call the head of the media sect of the Professional caste and warn him that the stories had strayed from accepted doctrine. He didn’t approve of the near irreverence of common actors portraying deities.

  What he saw instead shocked him even more than seeing a half-dressed actress playing Harmony, disporting in bed with Discord.

  Sissy stood at the center of a community square waving to a throng of mixed Workers, Professionals, Military, and Poor. No one seemed to be keeping order, and the crowd chanted ceaselessly, “Sissy, Sissy, Sissy!”

  The normally soothing voice of the man who usually read the evening news overlaid the pictures with excited tremors. “We are pleased to report that despite rumors of her death, our Laudae Harmony survived the tragic fire at Crystal Temple last night. She is alive and unharmed. Harmony be praised. Laudae Sissy lives!” The voice cracked with tears.

  “Put a stop to this, Guilliam, and bring her home.” Gregor switched off the annoyance and returned to his work. “The people need to be reminded that their High Priestess is Temple caste and presides over the HC from the Crystal Temple, not from some hovel in Lord Chauncey’s factory complex.”

  Anxiety ate at Gregor’s innards. Sissy taking refuge out there was only a symptom of how much control he’d lost over the people and the government. Harmony needed her back. Now.

  “She is home, My Laud.”

  Gregor glared at him.

  “Very well, My Laud.” Guilliam heaved a sigh worthy of martyrdom. “I shall seek audience with Laudae Sissy and ask her to return to Crystal Temple.”

  “Her name is Laudae Estella.”

  “Try convincing the empire of that, My Laud. They love their Sissy.” He turned. His next words filtered through to Gregor as a muffled grunt. “And they don’t love you or the HC.”

  “The Covenant doesn’t require the people to love their governors,” Gregor insisted. Still he felt stung by the realization.

  “Who knows what the Covenant says, My Laud.” The outer door slammed behind Guilliam’s retreating back.

  Jake paced the confines of the family flats. Four tiny apartments, each with two bedrooms and a bath, opening into a big sitting room. Three of them had miniscule alcoves with a two-burner stove, sink, and a half-sized cooler. The fourth unit had a monster kitchen, easily as large as the sitting room. Maigrie presided there, turning out mountains of baked goods. Cinnamon rolls, cookies, pies, and luscious cakes. But no chocolate.

  For some reason Jake craved chocolate. His teeth ached for the taste and texture of rich dark chocolate. Not the cheap watered-down waxy stuff so popular among kids that was more milky filler than chocolate. He wanted the pure soft, melt-in-your-mouth, with just a touch of bitterness dark chocolate.

  He felt like his mind would explode and scatter into stardust if he didn’t get some soon. He had to settle for endless cups of the roasted root coffee substitute they used on Harmony. At least it had some caffeine.

  Something bothered him. Something more than raw nerves irritated by the coffee. Sissy had ventured out and come back unharmed. The people loved her.

  She seemed only in danger near the Crystal Temple or among the upper castes.

  He didn’t have enough information.

  Back in the CSS, he’d have access to numerous databases that detailed relationships, money interests, weapons registrations, and many other bits of unrelated information that could be pieced together to make a pattern.

  Here, he doubted such databases existed. Law enforcement relied on interviews, and gut instinct, with a little assist from forensics to solve crimes. Jeoff might have more information by now. Jake had no way to contact him. Telephones were few and far between. And he didn’t dare leave Sissy alone long enough to go find one, or even to travel across the city to Law Enforcement HQ H Prime.

  So he paced, checking the view out the window seven stories down, the locks on all four exterior doors, and the mood among the children who littered the floors, the chairs, and every path he tried to take.

  Grim children with wide, frightened eyes. No Jilly to lighten the mood with a joke or a funny face or a wickedly sarcastic imitation of her elders.

  A sharp knock on the door startled him. He jumped to reach it before the children flung it open without safety precautions.

  Ashel glared at him, stamping her foot. Answering the door was her job, one she performed with enthusiasm.

  Jake growled at her. She ran screaming for the protection of her mother’s apron. Maigrie screamed with equal shrillness. The crash and clatter of kitchen tools hitting the floor echoed throughout the apartment.

  Everyone cringed. Including Jake.

  He unsheathed his dagger and opened the door a crack. Suddenly he felt foolish. An enemy wouldn’t bother knocking. Still he needed to make a show of fierceness, to soothe his own nerves, if not Sissy’s and her family’s.

  “Forgive me if I’ve come at a bad time,” Gil said, blinking rapidly, as if confused.

  Or masking other, malicious emotions.

  “Mind if I search you for weapons first?” Jake didn’t wait for an answer. With the dagger at Gil’s throat, he used his free hand to pat him down.

  The fact that Sissy made no protest at his rudeness showed just how on edge they all were.

  “You’re clean. What do you want?” Jake snarled.

  “May I speak with Laudae Sissy?”

  “You may,” Sissy called. She moved fr
om the floor and her teaching games to a threadbare overstuffed chair. She sat with her back to the window, the late summer sunlight making a corona around her like a halo. She’d learned a few things about majesty in the six months she’d spent at the Crystal Temple. As High Priestess, she was as close to being reigning queen of Harmony as anyone could be.

  Except she had the oligarchy of the HC to contend with.

  The imagery was not lost on Gil. He knelt on one knee, head bowed before her.

  “Laudae, I’ve come to beg you to return to the Crystal Temple.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  The burden of continuing the interview became Gil’s. Jake knew he was a master at twisting words to his own purpose. Better at it than Gregor.

  “The people have lost confidence in the Temple and the HC. We need you to return as a symbol of solidarity and stability.”

  “A lie. I’ve had enough of lies.”

  “You are the only one who can cut through the lies to the core of the truth.”

  “Every time I try, someone tries to kill me. The breach of the Covenant that represents is . . . is . . .” She looked to Jake for the proper word.

  “Anathema,” he supplied.

  She still looked puzzled.

  “Blasphemy,” he tried.

  She nodded. “Blasphemy at the highest level. I refuse to return to Crystal Temple until the per . . . per . . . arsonist is found.”

  “Perpetrator,” Jake said too late.

  She shrugged and settled for her own word.

  “But . . . but that may take weeks! We may never know.” Gil began to shake. “The Spacers and the Military are already suggesting that any action taken by the HC is not valid until you return to the Crystal Temple.”

  “You’ve shut down the government, My Laudae,” Jake smirked. “That takes guts. Means no one gets paid. No one can authorize emergency responses. No one can organize defense if the Marils invade. If the HC realizes this, maybe that will hurry up the investigation. Or at least get them to cooperate.”

  Gil blanched and gasped. Sweat broke out on his brow. He wrung his hands.

  Was he that good an actor?

  “Will they invade?” Sissy asked Jake, ignoring Gil.

  “If they monitor our communications as closely as the Spacers monitor theirs, then they may be tempted. Of course, the few Spacers I’ve met are independent enough they may respond with or without authority.”

  “My Laudae,” Gil whispered. “Please, at least move to one of the smaller city Temples. That way you make a show of tacitly approving a continuance of Temple rituals. You cannot deny the people, all the castes, the comfort of continuing on Harmony’s path.”

  “Temple life continued when I was at the burial caves and when I was in hospital.”

  “Both times you left Crystal Temple you went to Temple-approved places. You remained connected to the Crystal Temple symbolically and spiritually.”

  “Here, you’ve snubbed them all,” Jake said. “Kind of ironic considering your origins and that they disdain every caste but their own.”

  “Enough, Jake,” Sissy reprimanded. Though her tone shared a bit of mirth with him.

  “Please, Laudae. Do not continue on this destructive path,” Gil pleaded.

  “I will remove to the closest Temple on one condition.”

  “Which is?” Gil looked up with a modicum of hope in his eyes.

  Jake scowled. He wanted Sissy to be strong and independent. He wasn’t sure she knew how to do that without being foolish.

  “That everyone at Crystal Temple and the HC cooperate fully with Jake in his investigation of the arson. I mean answering every question truthfully when he asks. No deferring to underlings, no delays, and no dismissing him as insignificant. And we find the person who requisitioned the makings of gunpowder through the kitchen.”

  Gil sat back on his heels.

  Jake grinned from ear to ear. His Sissy had learned a lot.

  “Laudae, there is no precedent for that.”

  “There is no precedent for a reigning High Priestess condemning the entire Temple and demanding they face the criminal laws like anyone else.”

  “My Laudae, no!”

  “Yes!

  “And the time shall come

  When Beloved Harmony

  Lashes out in anger.

  Out of the ashes of Discord

  Will Rise

  One who loves us all,

  Appeases Harmony,

  Brings Chaos,

  And restores life.”

  “I . . . I must consult with My Laud Gregor.”

  “Do that. Tell him I will go to the local Temple as a gesture of . . .”

  “Of good faith,” Jake gave her the phrase.

  “Of good faith. But if he does not agree to my demands and does not guarantee my safety with his own life, then I will disappear. I will break the government and the Temple. Chaos will reign and I will have fulfilled the prophecy of Discord’s chosen one.”

  “Very well, My Laudae.” Guilliam backed out.

  “Remind me not to make you angry with me, My Laudae,” Jake whistled through his teeth.

  “As soon as my girls and I settle in at the nearest Temple, you will return to the Crystal Temple and begin your investigation. Bring in any expert you think you need. I will give you written authority for . . .”

  “Blanket authority. Covers everything.” At last! He could requisition the formula for Badger Metal.

  That no longer seemed important.

  If he got his hands on the formula, he was obligated to return to Pammy and the CSS.

  That no longer felt like home.

  Now that Sissy had put the fear of the gods into these people about invasion maybe they’d listen to the CSS proposal for peace. He liked that idea more and more.

  Except . . . when he left, he’d have to say good-bye to Sissy. Forever.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  GREGOR PUSHED THE LEVER OF the heavy mover forward, just as he’d been shown. The machine lumbered forward, its scoop lowered. At the proper place, the construction Worker sitting beside him signaled he should stop and operate the scoop. He switched to a knob and wiggled it around until it got under a small bit of charred debris. Then he wiggled it some more and the scoop tilted back.

  A hover cam captured it all. Little Johnny stood out of the way, watching carefully, taking notes, and directing another media Professional with a stationary camera.

  “Too much, My Laud,” the Worker shouted over the noise of the machine. He dropped his hand over Gregor’s to guide his movement.

  Gregor had to bite his lip to keep from jerking his hand out from under the other man’s. Now was not the time or place to stand on formality.

  If he’d had his way, Little Johnny and his camera would have been banned from this symbolic operation. Guilliam had convinced him the people needed to see him doing something positive to counter the rumors flying through the city about the rift between Sissy and Crystal Temple.

  Just a little more jiggling and the debris rested solidly on the scoop. A pitifully small amount considering the vastness of the fire’s destruction. But it was a ceremonial beginning of the cleanup.

  Two full days had passed since the fire. Two full days without a word from Sissy. Just those blasted images on the television of her accepting the adoration of the people. The media still reported her living with her family and often showed her with her adoring brother Stevie. She even performed a special blessing for Stevie and his spouse Anna at the announcement of a new baby on the way.

  A small ceremony that the entire empire watched through Little Johnny’s hover cam.

  “Now guide the lever backward just a little.”

  Gregor obeyed the instruction. When he had backed the machine away from the debris field, he stopped everything, unfastened his safety harness, and jumped down. The foreman walked over to him, hand extended. Gregor handed him his bright green hard hat rather than shake the proffered hand. He’d endu
red enough familiarity from the lesser castes. No more today.

  A semicircle of Temple observers clapped their hands a few times to signal their appreciation of his work. He bowed slightly. None of them wore black for the lost acolyte. He frowned at their disrespect. They should at least mourn the loss of their residence! He’d wear black until the new wing was finished and he’d moved back in. Then he’d probably find another excuse. He liked black. It seemed more formal and majestic than the bright jewel tones the others wore.

  Gratefully, he turned back toward the sanctuary of his office and almost ran down Guilliam.

  “I’ve told you not to hover so closely!” Then Gregor saw Jake behind Guilliam. Jake without Sissy. Heat and life drained out of him.

  Only something dire would separate that man from his charge.

  “My Laudae is safely settled in the small Temple that serves Lord Chauncey’s factories,” Jake said. He looked gaunt with weariness. Dark-blond stubble stained his face. New worry lines radiated out from his eyes. And his hands twitched around the hilts of several weapons. “That is privileged information. For her safety we made the move in darkness, before dawn. I don’t fear the people. I fear the people who can afford their own televisions and watch the news. The ones with access to vehicles and licenses to buy gasoline. The ones with the knowledge to create gunpowder and requisition the ingredients through your kitchen, My Laud.”

  “Laudae Sissy has agreed to allow Temple life and ritual to continue,” Guilliam said. He looked nearly as weary and worried as the bodyguard.

  “For now,” Jake spat out. He’d lost the tiny bit of deference he’d once maintained in his posture.

  “My office, now,” Gregor barked. He stalked into the administrative wing that bordered the old palace and ceremonial centers of the Crystal Temple.

  Jake took the lead, warily checking every cross corridor and shadowy alcove along the way as if he expected assassins to leap out at them at every turn.

  Not good.

  “What?” Gregor asked as he settled in his chair. He gestured magnanimously for the two men to seat themselves.