"No, I did not." the man said stiffly.
"I just couldn't remember. I . . ." Danai suddenly grabbed her stomach. "Ooooo . . ." she said. "I don't feel too . . ." Then she doubled over.
"For God's sake," the man said, but Nikol, seeing an opportunity, stepped forward and put an arm around Danai's shoulders.
"Let me give you a hand," Nikol said, then glanced at the man with an expression that actually looked regretful. "I'm sorry, Frederick, but this poor woman needs some help. We'll have to continue this conversation some other time."
"Of course," Frederick said, and shot Danai a look that made it clear he hoped she would suffer from a powerful hangover in the morning.
"Come along," Nikol said, and steered Danai along as Danai maintained her stooped posture.
"You're a lifesaver," Nikol said once they were out of Frederick's earshot.
"Perhaps I'm really sick," Danai countered, making sure to keep looking pained.
"Perhaps," Nikol said. "But I saw your face as you approached Frederick, and you did not look like a woman who had drunk too much."
"What did I look like?"
"A soldier going into battle."
Danai laughed. "That happens," she said. "That expression just kind of comes up."
"Where am I taking you?"
"We'd better go to the ladies' room, just to keep our cover intact. After that, you can join me looking for a nice, quiet place."
"That would be heaven," Nikol said.
* * *
Half a dozen balconies overlooked the interior of the ballroom, but only one of them had an adjacent outer balcony. The night air had grown cool enough to keep most people from wanting to be outside. Nikol and Danai shivered a bit, but they were alone. And they had a fine view of the fireworks that had been going on all night.
"Quite a display," Nikol said. "Do you think many people in there remember we're here for a funeral?"
"Many would view the death of Victor Steiner-Davion as a cause for celebration," Danai said, then decided she didn't like the tone of her own voice. "He wasn't a great friend of the Confederation," she said. "Daoshen—I mean. Chancellor Liao—has subjected me to many lectures about his shortcomings. But he was a warrior. I can respect him for that, at least."
"I think if you made a complete survey of ball attendees, you'd find people who worshipped Steiner-Davion and people who hated him. And just about every emotion in between. Only thing you wouldn't find is people who don't care."
Danai shook her head. "That room—it's exhausting. A thousand people who don't agree on anything, each of them convinced of their own superiority. And willing to do whatever it takes to make others see how superior they are."
Nikol smiled. "Isn't that the point of the Solaris VII tournaments? Pummeling people until they admit you're superior?"
"Now that you point it out, yes, it is. But at least there are clear winners and losers there."
"Oh, you get that in other parts of life, too. Take the nice man you saved me from, Frederick Marik. Clear loser."
"Yeah, he sure seemed to be."
"No, no, I didn't mean like that. Well, I kind of did. But look at his situation. His ancestors ruled hundreds of planets, and what's he got? A broken realm and an older brother who may be the most disliked paladin in the Republic. He's been scraping around for years, looking for some way to get a piece of the old Free Worlds League back. It's sad. Does life present you with too many clearer losers than that?"
"But in 'Mech combat you lose because of what you did on the field," Danai countered. "Not because your family got blasted in the Jihad. Life is just . . . sloppier."
Nikol laughed as she turned and looked back inside the grand hall. "You can say that again. Do you know how many things are going to happen that shouldn't before the night is over?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know . . . like senators making a deal with a House outside of the Republic for protection. Like minor nobles from House Kurita seducing a member of Chancellor Liao's entourage."
"Not likely," Danai scoffed.
Nikol motioned her back inside. "Come here." They walked back onto the inner balcony, where Nikol scanned the shimmering forms on the floor for several seconds. Then she pointed.
"There," she said. "Look."
Danai followed the line of her arm. "That couple?"
"Right. The two who'd better find a private spot quite promptly or they're risking public indecency. Recognize either of them?"
Danai squinted, a somewhat embarrassing thing for a warrior to have to do, but then she normally didn't try to pick out objects in dim ballrooms with erratically flashing lights. She stared at the couple for a minute or two before one of the faces registered.
"The woman," she said. "She was in the group I walked in with. I forget exactly who she is—daughter of an executive secretary to one of the chancellor's assistants?"
"Something to that effect. And the man she's wrapping herself around is Ken Hasagawa, nephew of the duke of Sutama."
Danai stared at the entanglement for a few moments. "It could be worse." she finally said. "He could be a Republican."
Nikol laughed again. It was a sound that obviously came easily to her. "That sort of coupling may be happening somewhere else on the floor, for all I know. It's that sort of night—the power on display, the flow of champagne, the fact that most of these people will likely never see each other again—all kinds of strange dalliances are going on down there."
Reflexively, Danai found herself scanning the floor for Caleb. If everyone else was getting into questionable situations . . .
"Almost makes me want to go back down," she said.
"You have a particular target in mind?" Nikol asked lightly, and Danai felt herself starting to flush. Thankfully, Nikol didn't press the subject. "If you decide to reenter the fray," she said, "remember that Frederick might have you in his sights next."
Danai assumed her most regal, fearsome attitude. "He wouldn't dare."
Nikol waved her hands frantically. "Don't look powerful!" she said. "That's just what he's looking for!"
Danai smiled and deflated back into her normal posture. The memory of other conversations she'd had that night that she'd managed briefly to forget came back, and she remembered why she was hiding.
"You're right," she said. "I'll stay up here for a while."
They talked for a good long time, neither one of them bothering to bring up the fact that they probably shouldn't like each other. As with many of the other people down on the ballroom floor, political tension should have trumped personal friendship. But for the time being, it didn't.
1
Genève, Terra
Republic of the Sphere
1 July 3135
Daoshen Liao had ordered a complete remodeling of the CapellanCulturalCenter in Genève as soon as he arrived. He needed a place to receive visitors (or, to use his word, "supplicants"), and the academic-looking office in the embassy did not fit his needs. The changes he ordered were extensive, especially since he did not intend to be on Terra long and, once he left, would likely not return for quite some time. But the chancellor needed appropriate surroundings, and he dedicated significant sums of money to adjusting his reception area as quickly as possible.
Danai didn't hear the sounds of construction as she approached his office—or, as he called it now, the Hall of Celestial Purity—so she assumed the work was nearly complete. She was interested to see what the hall looked like, though she had a good idea of the effect Daoshen wanted to deliver.
He didn't have high ceilings to work with, so he couldn't quite pull off the sheer imposing grandeur Danai knew he'd prefer, but given that fact he had still done quite well. Soft light spilled from gold wall sconces, and green marble columns lined a thin black carpet that led to the commanding throne Daoshen had designed. The top of the chair stretched a full meter higher than Daoshen's head, and above that hung the seal of the Capellan Confederation, in glossy green and black, a
full two meters in diameter. Light from throughout the room seemed to gather around the throne, and the chair's burnished metal made a halo around the chancellor. Danai was certain the effect was intentional, to highlight his divine status as God Incarnate.
Guards stood by the door, and Danai half expected them to act as medieval heralds announcing her entry into the chancellor's presence. Instead, they stood still and silent, leaving Danai to make her own way to her brother's throne.
When she drew near it, she bowed—she'd neglected to do so once, and Daoshen's remonstrance still rang in her ears—then waited for Daoshen to speak before she said anything. She felt the back of her right knee tremble, and she willed it still. But it kept moving, so she leaned a little to her left to hide it. She could not remember a time when her body had not responded that way to being in her brother's presence, and she didn't understand it. When she was a teenager, summoned to the Confederation from the safe cocoon of the Magistracy of Canopus, the fear had made some sense. Now, as an adult and an accomplished warrior, there was no reason to be nervous in front of her brother. But her earliest memories of him, ingrained from a time before she knew how to count her own age, were steeped in primal fear.
"We welcome our honored sister," Daoshen said in the still, formal drone that was the only tone Danai ever heard him use. "You are a valuable treasure to the state, and we are grateful for the honor you have brought to our house."
Danai bowed again. "You honor me," she said.
"We understand you are preparing to leave, to return to the struggle on New Hessen. While we have enjoyed your presence here, we also admire your dedication to the Confederation's military campaigns. We are convinced you will be quite useful on New Hessen, and we look forward to reports of your future victories."
"My only desire is to add to the great glory of the Confederation and its chancellor, and I am confident that the might of the Confederation will lead to exploits that will cover the realm in glory."
She knew how artificial she sounded, and she hated herself for it. She tried, every time she saw Daoshen, to speak like she always did, to put simple sentences together like a normal human being. But instead these flowery utterances came out, matching or even topping Daoshen's own formality. She strained to control it, but she never could.
Daoshen nodded in response. "You will do well. However, before you depart, we feel compelled to offer you a warning. You have proven your abilities as a warrior repeatedly, particularly on the gaming fields of Solaris VII. The glory you have gained is great. Yet too often, it seems, the glory you obtain—the glory you seek—is glory for yourself.
"We wish to remind you that the individual cannot surpass the state. Individual glory is meaningless next to the glory of the state. Whatever triumphs you gain on New Hessen—and we remain confident that you will gain many—be sure they are for the betterment of the Confederation, not for the satisfaction of any personal goals or the acquisition of individual fame. We have seen this weakness in you, this part of you that loves the acclaim of the masses. Remember that at the end of a truly glorious battle, the victors should not be shouting your name, but the name of the Confederation."
And the name of its chancellor, Danai silently added.
"Yes, Chancellor," she said.
Daoshen stood, unfolding to his full height. His eyes glowed like coals set inside a withered skull. "For the glory of the Confederation," he intoned.
"For the glory of the Confederation," she repeated, and bowed again. Then she was excused, so she hurried away.
* * *
The way Ilsa Centrella presented herself couldn't have been more different from Daoshen's custom-made throne room. Cushions and pillows filled every corner and horizontal surface. Steam drifted lazily from a bone teapot on a small wooden table. Even though she was reclining on a pastel blue divan and occasionally eating from a plate of biscuits, Ilsa's every move seemed to contain far more grace than Daoshen's entire chamber.
Ilsa stood as soon as Danai entered and enfolded her in a hug. Even though her features often seemed to belong on a marble statue amid some ancient ruins, she still managed to look warm and friendly when she wanted to.
She drew back from her embrace to get a good look at Danai. "Ah, Danai," she said. "High-ranking members of the Republic should die more often so we can see you."
"They should die more often just on general principle," Danai said brightly.
Ilsa cocked her head. "Not the kindest sentiment, perhaps, but not necessarily untrue." She sat back on her divan, then gestured toward the many cushions strewn across the room. "Please, find a place to sit that suits you."
Danai chose the softest silk pillow she could find. It might be a while before she had truly comfortable surroundings, and she knew she should enjoy it while she could.
"Did Daoshen put on a nice show for you?"
"Of course. Regal, imposing and self-centered. All the classic Daoshen hallmarks. And, of course, the reminder that I'm nothing and the Confederation is everything. He sure knows how to make a girl feel special."
Ilsa laughed, a gentle sound. "We all have our eccentricities, but Daoshen's aren't entirely . . . well . . . human. He doesn't always have an easy time attempting to deal with mere mortals."
"He should try it from our side once in a while. It's not exactly easy for us, either."
"I know," Ilsa said. "Remember, I spend much more time with him than you do. I'm fully aware of his quirks."
"Quirks," Danai said. "That sure sounds a lot nicer than 'signs of dementia.' "
Ilsa's face hardened a touch, and her resemblance to a piece of sculpture became more keen. "I know Daoshen is difficult, but remember that he is our brother and the chancellor. Remember all he has accomplished, all he has done for the Confederation. He deserves our respect—and even a little sympathy now and then."
"I suppose. You would have been proud of me, actually. I played his game very well, very respectfully."
"I'm sure you did," Ilsa said, her demeanor warming again. "And I know you'll take his advice seriously, even if his personal bearing leaves you cold."
"I'm guessing that means you know what advice he offered."
Ilsa laughed again. "Daoshen doesn't have the widest range of advice to give in the first place, and I've heard him talk about you often enough that I know his concerns."
"Fair enough. He doesn't need to worry. If all I wanted was personal glory, I'd still be on Solaris VII. The state has my loyalty."
"I know it does," Ilsa said. "Just be certain you always remember how many ways there are to serve the state. How much you have to offer."
"I'm putting my life on the line!" Danai said, growing impatient with Ilsa's echo of Daoshen's concerns about her. "What more does he—do you—want?"
"I'm not being critical, Danai. You needn't be defensive. I'm fully aware and appreciative of the risks you're taking, but you must remember that dying for the Confederation is not the only service you can give. Death, in fact, is often the easiest gift—you give your life once and it's over. There are other kinds of sacrifice, both more difficult and more lasting, that the Confederation may need. You must be willing and able to offer them when the time comes."
"I'm going to help take New Hessen," Danai said with a confused note in her voice. "What more can I offer besides my willingness to fight? What else is there to put on the line besides my life?"
"Nothing, in this battle. I simply wish to remind you that there may be others. I have complete confidence in your ability to survive this one—what concerns me is your ability to fight future battles of an entirely different nature."
Danai shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ilsa, but I don't know what you're talking about. I have a battle in front of me, and that's the one I'm going to fight. With everything I have. These 'future battles' you're talking about—I don't know what they are."
"I know," Ilsa said. "And there's little I can say here to fully prepare you for them. I simply want you to be ready to offer what is
required when asked. We owe that to the Confederation. That's how the Confederation survives."
Danai still didn't understand what Ilsa was asking of her, but she knew what Ilsa wanted her to say. So she said it, if only to close off the topic.
"I am ready to offer whatever I can, whenever I can. I will always offer what is needed."
Ilsa nodded. Her expression was mostly opaque, and Danai guessed Ilsa was not entirely convinced by her vow. But for now, it was all she would get.
3 July 3135
Danai felt like a child at the end of a school term. She'd been locked up for too long with people and subject matter that she didn't necessarily care for, and now, finally, it was time to go do what she did best. What she loved. It helped that the summer air in Genève was warm, the sun was bright and the trickling of water off the snow-capped mountains down into the lake seemed audible everywhere.
Yen-lo-wang awaited. Soon she'd be back in its cockpit, going toe-to-toe with the Federated Suns. Exactly what a good Capellan warrior should be doing.
It would be a good mission. A worthy cause—taking New Hessen, a former Capellan world and a stepping- stone to the coveted planet of Tikonov and its prized 'Mech-production facilities. A direct body blow to the Federated Suns and the Davions. She couldn't wait.
She couldn't help but think of the glory that would come with the conquest of New Hessen, and of the pleasant prospect of having her name attached to such a battle. She couldn't help but remember what Daoshen and Ilsa had warned her about, but it wasn't as if she was advancing her own name at the Confederation's expense. If this worked out like it was supposed to, her personal glory would advance in lockstep with the glory of her nation. What could be wrong with that?
Daoshen might not like her perspective, but she couldn't recall Daoshen ever really enjoying anything. Deep in her mind, when she pulled up her earliest memories of her older brother, she could only picture him as stern, imposing, critical. She could not imagine him laughing. She could not imagine him doing anything for his personal enjoyment. Perhaps that made him the perfect servant of the Confederation—that was why he wanted her to be more like him.
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