Heir to the Dragon

by Robert N. Charrette

  The bearded man sitting at the head of the table knew, as did all present, that the fat man in the outlawed uniform of the Rasalhague Prince's Guard was not entitled to wear it. His fellow conspirators tolerated his affectation because of the wealth he brought to the enterprise. The bearded man suppressed a sigh. Leading this odd assembly of personalities was a trial, made no easier by the wretched places where they often met. Slums were hardly in keeping with his dignity or that of their cause.

  "Of course he will come," the leader assured the agitated man. "This matter touches too closely his own interests."

  "He could betray us," warned one of the women. She was grim-faced and apparently calm, but her voice held just a hint of fear.

  "He won't," the leader said, stroking his salt-and-pepper beard in a casual gesture of confidence meant to bolster his fellows. "His position with the Dragon is shaky enough. He has let his ambitions show too clearly of late, and his enemies in the court on Luthien are almost in position to deny his petition for elevation to the status of Archduke over the five worlds he controls. Add to that the fact that the Coordinator sent no Kurita troops to help him defend against the recent raids by House Steiner, and you will find a man who believes he has no future with the Dragon."

  "He might see betraying us as a way to regain favor," countered a tall man, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. His carriage showed him to be a military officer, but his drab, worn clothes were those of a mercantile messenger. A DCMS-issue laser pistol, its grip stained from years of use, rode in his low-slung messenger's holster.

  "Such a betrayal might, indeed, gain him influence at Court, but there will be no treachery." The bearded man smiled with satisfaction. "As I said, our friend's ambitions have been all too obvious of late. More to us here in the District than to Luthien. I have accumulated certain evidence and prepared it for release to certain individuals. In doing so, I have guaranteed that if he betrays us, he will fall with us. He won't risk that."

  "Hassid Ricol is a daring fellow," the military man warned.

  Several in the circle drew in sharp breaths at the mention of their expected visitor's name. "No names," one hissed.

  The military man harrumphed in contempt of the others' timidity. "Jessup has assured us that the lostech artifact he brought will mask our talk from any ISF listening devices."

  "I said should, not will" Jessup shouted heatedly. "You endanger us all with your loose talk."

  The military man started across toward Jessup, but the bearded man blocked his path, catching the other man's arm.

  "At ease, Colonel. He's just upset at your breach of the agreed-upon protocols."

  Jessup had scrambled back, knocking over his chair when the Colonel started forward. Now, from the safety of his position behind two other conspirators, he taunted the other man. "And rightly upset, you loose-mouthed warhorse! If you can't be trusted to control your tongue in a relatively safe place, how can we trust you when out of our sight?"

  The Colonel bristled at the slight to his honor. Despite the drag of the bearded man's grip, his hand closed around the butt of his pistol. "Why, you little ..."

  "Such a cozy circle of friends. Reminds me of the court on Luthien."

  The squabbling group of schemers froze in place. Heads turned toward the man who spoke from the doorway.

  Tall and well-built, he was a sharp contrast to the mousy fellow at his side. The man's athletic build was cunningly accentuated by a finely tailored suit of deep burgundy cloth, trimmed in gold at cuff, collar, and lapel. A scarlet sash hung to his left hip, where a katana in tachi-style mount rode in a vermillion scabbard. A velvet half-cape, of a red so deep that it appeared black in the low light of the room, hung suspended from his right shoulder in the style of high courts throughout the Inner Sphere. Coolly surveying the assembled conspirators, Duke Hassid Ricol casually removed his fine oxhide gloves.

  The bearded man was quick to recover. He waved away Ricol's guide, ignoring the man's apologies for failing to warn the group of their guest's arrival. Also ignoring the still angry Colonel at his side, he stepped forward, smiling.

  "You are most kind to join us, Your Grace."

  "I have not joined you yet, Jarl ..."

  "You know us, friend, and we know you," the bearded man cut in before Ricol could speak his name. The naming of ranks was dangerous enough. Though he had confidence in Jessup's device, he was not the sort of man to take chances. "Show us the courtesy of using no names save those we give you here."

  Ricol inclined his head to show he understood and gave a small smile. Something in that smile struck the bearded man as a trifle condescending, but he dismissed his unease.

  "I am Diamond," he announced, and then proceeded to introduce the rest of his group. Each conspirator went by the name of a gemstone. He concluded by giving Ricol a codename. "And you, my friend, shall be known as Ruby. Together we are the jewels of the princely crown of Rasalhague.

  "Sit here," said Diamond, indicating a seat next to a compdeck. "Let us show you an outline of our plan."

  Powering up the console as Ricol sat down, Diamond then slipped an iridescent disk into the slot and settled himself next to the Duke. The rest of the conspirators watched anxiously as Ricol began the long process of reviewing the data.

  At one point, he paused and looked up. "There are some areas that seem ill-defined."

  "Make your inquiries of the computer, friend Ruby," Diamond directed. "All the information you desire is included in the databank—but without the risk of being overheard."

  Turning back to the screen, Ricol did not bother to conceal his annoyance. Diamond ordered refreshments to occupy the others while they waited on the Duke. Finally, Ricol sat back, massaging a stiffened neck.

  "Will you join us?" blurted the man in the outlawed military uniform.

  Ricol looked him in the eye, and the man's stare faltered. "I'll take it under advisement."

  "That is not a commitment," Diamond observed.

  "You are not yet successful," Ricol countered.

  "Uncommitted men are dangerous," the Colonel observed, his voice hard with implied threat. "Dangerous men have accidents."

  "People who react when there is no threat are nervous. Nervous men have accidents, too," Ricol replied, but his tone was nonchalant. Focusing on the Colonel, he added, "Stay out of my way and I will stay out of yours. Make my life difficult and I will take yours."

  The Colonel stiffened. His eyes narrowed at the threat, but he said no more. The bearded man hoped that it was the beginning of caution in the Colonel's headlong attitude. He pulled his thoughts back to their guest as Ricol addressed his next words to the group as a whole.

  "Your plans do not conflict with mine. For the moment, I suggest that we all pursue our own interests. Perhaps we can help each other when circumstances arise later. Say, when such actions are mutually beneficial."

  "I'm sure we will find many such mutually beneficial circumstances in the future," Diamond assured him.

  Ricol smiled as he stood. "Your scheme is intriguing. We can talk again after you have carried through on your next steps."

  Diamond admired Ricol's composure as the Duke turned his back on the conspirators and left without a further word. As soon as the Duke was out the door, his former guide stuck his head through the doorway. Diamond nodded to him, indicating that the man should follow Ricol as planned.

  In hushed whispers, the group assessed the result of the meeting. Diamond watched the silent Colonel, observing the roiling emotions the military man so. injudiciously allowed to show on his face. He was not surprised when the Colonel silenced the conversation by slapping his hand hard against the table.

  "Kill him," the Colonel said simply, brown eyes locked with Diamond's own cool blue.

  "No," the leader responded. His voice held conviction and the authority of a man who had spent years as a planetary ruler.

  The Colonel was not subdued; he had stood up to planetary rulers before. "He will betray us
."

  "Again, no. We've persuaded him. He will come to us when the time is right."

  Diamond had no trouble seeing that the Colonel was not convinced, but the man's shrug showed that he was willing to wait. The others were relieved when the man retreated from the room and expressed confidence in their leader's assessment of the situation. Then they, too, dispersed.

  The bearded man was equally relieved. With Ricol, he had secured the last of his preliminary supporters. One final piece to set in place, then he could order the start of action.

  His goal was in sight. While the others dreamed of freedom and national sovereignty, he looked further. They would never understand his vision, he knew, but that was unimportant. They only needed to play their parts, unwittingly setting him on the path to rulership. He looked forward to the power he would wield. There was so much good he would do, so many wrongs he would right. His name would be remembered forever.

  4

  Governor's Mansion, Kuroda, Kagoshima

  Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine

  18 May 3018

  Constance Kurita stifled a yawn. She automatically arrested the hand that rose to rub her sleep-filled eyes, then remembered she wore no cosmetics to smudge. She allowed herself the luxury of freeing the hard particles that clung to her eyelashes. Then she gave all her facial muscles a hard rub. She was never at her best in the predawn hours, and years of meditation vigils had done little to change that.

  The urgent summons brought by her maid had left no time to apply her usual court make-up. She had chosen her simplest garb, an amber-colored Pillarine robe, and bound her lustrous black hair at the nape of her neck after only the most cursory brushing. Shudocho Oda would not look kindly on a tardy novice, even if she was a member of the ruling Kurita clan. Within the Order of the Five Pillars, Oda was her superior. As long as she was an active member of the Order, Constance was obligated to respond when he called. He never abused the privilege and was most circumspect about her social position, so far above his own.

  The message had mentioned that she was to meet with Florimel Kurita, her great aunt and Keeper of the House Honor. Constance believed she knew the true author of the summons.

  The Keeper was the custodian of the Combine's religious, ideological, and social codes. In her charge was the Dictum Honorium, a detailed and complex set of conventions and axioms originally compiled in 2334 by Omi Kurita, daughter of Shiro, first Coordinator of the Draconis Combine. Much like the samurai "house codes" of ancient Japan, the Dictum set forth guidelines for the proper conduct and concerns of a subject of the Kurita clan. Centuries had enlarged that document with the wisdom, and sometimes the follies, of succeeding Coordinators and Keepers. As custodian of the document and the ultimate authority over its contents, the Keeper of the House Honor was a powerful figure in Kurita society and a significant check on the office of the Coordinator. As part of that check, the Keeper ruled the pervasive Order of the Five Pillars, known colloquially as O5P.

  Constance herself had joined the Order after secondary school when her sex barred her from further formal education. She knew that O5P was in part a teaching order. Those who teach, she had reasoned, must hold the knowledge that is taught. Her action had galvanized her father, Marcus Kurita, to action. He had arranged for her to be tutored in law by one of the finest lawyers in the Combine, in the hope that she would renounce the Order to follow the lure of knowledge he dangled before her. She had accepted the tutor, but remained with the Order, dreaming of rising to the honored rank of jukurensha. Vowing that his daughter would not be sent to wander as a penniless teacher in the Combine's outback, Marcus then used his influence as Warlord of the Rasalhague District to persuade the masters of O5P to keep her on Luthien, where he might see her during his sojourns in the capital.

  Constance had accepted with delight, for she had not relished giving up the pleasures of court life. She also realized that she would better tread the path of an Adept if nearer to the center of power and wisdom.

  Constance's musings were cut off as the door slid open to reveal Shudocho Devlin Oda, back-lit by the lamps in the corridor. Oda slid the door closed and walked silently across the mats to the east wall to bow before the small shrine, lit softly by light from the shoji walls of the corridor. The shrine was in the ancient Ryuboshinto tradition, consisting of an intricately carved gilded box in decorative and figurative motifs. The box stood on a pedestal of ivory carved in the serpentine shape of the Kurita dragon. Surrounding it were five candle stands, each of a different material: gold, ivory, steel, teak, and jade. Each material symbolized one of the five Pillars that supported Kurita society.

  The shudocho reached out to each of the stands in turn, lighting a red wax candle there. The last one he lit was the Pillar of Ivory, which Constance took as a sign. Ivory symbolized religion and philosophy, the realm of O5P itself.

  Oda knelt across from Constance. Though bursting with curiosity, she said nothing, for the shudocho gave no sign that speech was allowed. When Constance flicked her eyes in the direction of the low dais that formed the northern end of the room, she found Florimel seated there. At some point, the old Keeper had silently taken her place.

  The Keeper was dressed in a floral-printed formal kimono whose colors hinted properly of the spring. Her posture was straight, causing only the absolute minimum of folds in her garb. She was seated on a stool, a concession to her seventy-six standard years. Florimel's cerulean eyes gazed from a porcelain face, composed and painted with formal court make-up despite the hour. The effect denied her years, making her look thirty years younger. Those eyes seemed kindly now, but Constance knew they were capable of sudden shifts. She had seen them flash hard and unforgivingly toward enemies of the realm.

  "Shoshinsha Constance," Florimel began. "The dawn will bring a new day, graduation day for the current class of the Wisdom of the Dragon School. This night there is another graduation, one not marked with the pomp and ceremony of a military academy. This graduation will be one of simplicity, pure in its essence and harmonious with the Way. So it must always be for the Order of the Five Pillars.

  "We only recognize what is."

  Florimel stopped speaking. The silence grew so long that, had the old woman on the dais been anyone other than her great-aunt, Constance would have assumed she had fallen asleep.

  "This night we recognize that you, Constance Kurita, are no longer a student. Accept our congratulations, Jukurensha Constance. You shall greet the sun as an Adept of the Order of the Five Pillars."

  Constance found herself unable to think clearly. Here, un-looked for, was the goal she had sought for years. She had not thought herself ready. There was so much more to learn.

  "Well, child, have you nothing to say?" Florimel asked with a smile in her eyes as well as on her lips.

  "I am surprised," Constance said haltingly. "I had not thought to achieve this goal so soon."

  A little of the joy left Florimel's smile. "Your journey is far from over, daughter of my heart. You have achieved nothing, save another step. An Adept is not perfect. Perfection is a journey, not a goal. Honor is found in that journey. To have achieved the goal, or more accurately, to believe that one has achieved the goal, is failure.

  "My confidence in you is great. There will be no failure."

  "I am honored by your confidence, Jokan Florimel," Constance replied.

  Oda's laugh shattered the tranquil formality.

  "You are to be honored by more than that, Constance-sama," Oda assured her in a dry voice.

  Constance looked up sharply at the shudocho, but his expression was closed, his intent shuttered from her view. She turned to her great aunt.

  Florimel gave her a comforting look before turning her gaze toward Oda. "Oda-kun, you are less distant from the confusions of youth than am I. If I can show tolerance, so can you. Mind your manners."

  "Very well, Jokan," Oda acquiesced with a bow. When he straightened, he faced Constance. His voice was harsh with a leashed em
otion that Constance could not identify. "It is true that you shall greet the dawn as a jukurensha, but by the sun's setting, you shall no longer be one."

  "What!" Constance's eyes went wide with shock.

  "Regrettably, it is necessary that you leave my Order."

  When no further words were forthcoming from the shudocho and a search of his stony face yielded nothing, Constance turned to her great-aunt. Her dismay dissolved as she caught a gleam of mischief in the old woman's eyes.

  "He is quite correct, Constance," Florimel said, her voice stern. "You must leave the Order if you are to take the next step on your journey.

  "This day, before Devlin Oda, Lord of the Pillars, I declare you my successor as Keeper of the House Honor."

  "What!" Constance gasped, feeling foolish for repeating herself. Her wits had deserted her. The sharp reactions of what her father liked to call her "lawyer's mind" had vanished. Embarrassed, Constance reached deep within for the calm she had been taught to cultivate. After a shamefully long time, she stammered, "How can I accept? I am unworthy. I am not prepared."

  "Of course you are not prepared," Florimel said, her voice softer. "That is why I make this declaration now. I'm not getting any younger, you know.

  "To everyone outside this room, you will become one of my aides, little more than a servant. They will not know you are my successor, Oda-sensei and I will help you prepare to take my place. It will not be easy, but much of the work has already been done in your Pillarine training. You have learned our philosophy and goals, and partaken of our mental and physical disciplines. Now we shall focus that training and expand that learning."

  Seeing that Constance was still distressed by the sudden changes in her life, Florimel added, "It is proper that you should feel unworthy. Had you felt deserving of the position, you would be unworthy, totally unsuitable.

  "Make an old woman happy, Constance. Say you will take my place."

  Constance searched Florimel's eyes, reaching to feel the old woman's heart as the Pillarines had taught her. She found the strength she knew to be there, strength that proved Florimel's plea of old age a sham. Florimel asked from strength, not weakness. Her desire that Constance succeed was a fierce flame that cindered Constance's objections.