by DuBoff, Amy
Haersen pressed the buzzer next to the door, and a moment later the door swung open.
The back wall of the office was transparent glass, filling the room with natural light. It also afforded an impressive view of the city below, though Haersen had learned that none of the Bakzen seemed to appreciate that aspect.
Haersen stepped into the office and closed the door. “How may I serve you today, General?” he asked in Bakzeni, having grown comfortable with the language.
General Tek rose from behind his metal desk, his broad shoulders squared and tense beneath his tan uniform. His heavy brow was knit above his glowing red eyes that had narrowed to laser points. “I’m sick of waiting,” he snarled.
Haersen paused near the entrance. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know I was late.”
“No.” Tek let out a gruff grunt.
Haersen reached for the door handle. Clearly his presence wasn’t wanted. “Sorry to disturb you, sir.”
“Where are you going?” Tek’s heated gaze froze Haersen in his tracks.
“I thought you—”
Tek clenched his fists. “You assume everything is about you.” He took a short breath. “This matter concerns the Imperial Director.”
Haersen let his hand drop to his side. “Apologies.”
Tek shook his head and sighed. “Stop groveling and pay attention.”
“Yes, sir.”
The General leaned against his desk. “It’s time the Imperial Director retired.”
Haersen wet his lips and stepped forward. Knowing Tek, he didn’t have a retirement party in mind. Likely, it was something far more treasonous. “What can I do to help?”
“Ah, so you have learned the right question to ask, after all.” Tek crossed his arms and looked Haerson over thoughtfully. “Have you ever met the Imperial Director?”
“No, sir. I never had the occasion.”
Tek nodded. “Well, I think we might have to think of a reason. I’d like you to do some investigating for me.”
Those sorts of investigations ended badly for the party in question, based on Haersen’s limited experience. “Into what, sir?”
“I’d like to know about his routine and habits, who he keeps close.”
“I’m sure his assistant could tell you, sir,” Haersen suggested.
“But that doesn’t tell me who’s loyal to him, who he trusts—and who trusts him. I know some others are displeased with the direction the Bakzen are headed. The war has dragged on, we haven’t gained ground at the rate we should. It’s time for new leadership. I need to know who feels the same way.”
Haersen swallowed. He’d seen the double-cross coming for years, but he had started to doubt whether Tek would ever make a move. Apparently it was finally about to happen. “Yes, sir. I’ll learn everything I can.”
CHAPTER 10
Saera was transfixed by the city of Sieten before her. The previous trip to Tararia had been confined to the Sietinen estate, but seeing the city up close gave her a whole new appreciation for Taran culture.
Her shuttle had landed on top of a building in the northwest of the city along a district that wrapped along the northern coast of Lake Tiadon. In the distance above, she could see part of the Sietinen estate on the hill. The midday sun reflected off the white-washed walls of the buildings around her, but her tinted glasses mitigated the glare.
“This way, please,” a woman dressed in a lavender dress suit said to Saera, pulling her from her thoughts.
Saera smiled at the attendant and followed her toward the glass door at the entrance to a staircase descending into the building.
The stairwell was structured as an atrium, with planter boxes situated at the switchback to each segment of stairs. Saera followed the clerk down three flights to where the stairwell opened into a marble-lined rectangular room with airy ceilings and intersecting hallways.
“The Committee will see you in ten minutes,” the clerk explained. “I’ll escort you to the waiting room.”
“Thank you.” Saera admired the stone carvings and holopaintings along the walls as she traversed the hall leading deeper into the administrative building. The energy of the space exuded ancient authority—monuments from the era before the most recent revolution.
At the end of the hall, padded chairs were oriented around a set of double doors in a small room. Next to the door, a viewscreen on the wall displayed a queue of pending cases. A single woman was seated in one of the chairs along the right wall.
When the woman looked up, Saera was surprised to see it was her mother. Marina smiled at her and stood. “Hello, Saera. How was your trip?”
“Fine.” Saera glanced at the clerk with confusion, but she seemed unphased by Marina’s presence. “I didn’t know you were meeting me here,” Saera added. Even though it had been more than a year since their initial reunion, Saera’s limited interaction with her mother had not helped heal her feeling of abandonment.
“These matters go so much smoother with a personal voucher for your standing,” Marina explained. “And, I figured we could spend time together this way, since you came all this way.”
A nice sentiment, but I’m still not sure I’m ready for that. Saera shifted on her feet. “Thanks.”
Marina seemed to sense her daughter’s discomfort. “Are there any questions I can answer for you before the hearing?”
“I don’t think so. Cris went over pretty much everything with me before I left Headquarters.”
Her mother tensed at the slightest mention of Cris’ name. “You’re quite entrenched there now, it seems.”
“They took me in when I was lost,” Saera said, looking Marina straight on. “I have a real sense of family for the first time in a very long time.”
Marina maintained her poise, but Saera sensed her inner struggle. “I’m glad you found that.”
Saera knew her position had introduced a serious conflict for her mother, both on personal and professional levels. She was in service to Reinen, and in his conflict with Cris, Marina was obligated to side with the elder Sietinen. The new dynamic with Wil and Saera made it difficult for Marina to continue her duty as a Court Advisor with so many variables in play, and so many personal ties clouding the situation. She could see her mother studying her—trying to glean insight into how Wil might navigate the complex environment. Further, with Wil marrying Saera, it was going to be impossible to keep the Sietinen Dynasty’s ties to the TSS hidden for much longer, and the Alexri Dynasty would be exposed along with it.
“I appreciate you coming to support me,” Saera said, hoping to diffuse the tension. We don’t need to make today more stressful than it already is.
“Of course.” Marina eased back on the seat. “I have a lot to make up for.”
Saera sat down next to her mother. Without having Wil, Cris, and Kate nearby, Saera readily noticed the aura of Marina’s abilities. She was a gifted telepath and skilled instructor, but so much of her potential remained untapped—stifled by the limits the Priesthood imposed on telekinesis. Suddenly, everything came into perspective. I’m now getting what she never got to have—growing to my full potential while she’s left on the outside. “It all worked out okay.”
Marina sat in silence for several moments. “We need to find a way to work together. All of us.”
“For the enduring good of Tararia,” Saera affirmed.
“Exactly.”
Saera glanced at the clerk waiting on the other side of the room. “This isn’t the place to discuss that.”
Marina followed her daughter’s gaze. “No, but I don’t expect there ever will be, given our positions. However, I want you to know that I’m not blind to what’s going on. I have certain responsibilities now, but know that that when there is a change in leadership, the new leader will have my allegiance.”
When Cris is in power. “Despite everything?”
“Bygones. There’s family to consider now.”
Saera nodded. “I’ll pass on the message.”
; “Good.”
The viewscreen next to the door fluttered, and Saera’s name moved to the top of the queue.
“The Committee will see you now,” the clerk stated, stepping toward the door.
Marina rose. “Let’s go.”
Saera followed the two women toward the double doors, and the right door swung open.
Beyond, a chamber that reminded her of an ornate courtroom met her gaze. The domed ceiling rose six meters tall and was decorated with a painted landscape of hills around the bottom perimeter, topped by blue sky and clouds fading into stars. Five older individuals—two women and three men—were seated behind an elevated wooden podium with a dark stain that brought out the swirling grain of the boards. All had gray hair and faint lines around their wise eyes. They watched Saera intently as she stepped to the center of the room.
“Saera Alexri?” the man in the center said when Saera stopped in front of the podium.
“Yes, sir.”
“And you also have a voucher?” the councilman continued.
“Yes, your eminence,” Marina stated. “I am her mother, of Alexri Dynasty pedigree. She was born on Earth, so her official paperwork was never filed with Taran authorities. In addition, her paternal great-grandfather was a Taran citizen.”
“We see that,” the councilman stated. “And he renounced his citizenship. Why do you seek it now?”
“The reason is twofold,” Saera replied, reciting what Cris had told her. “I have pledged myself to Taran service through the TSS, but I am also to wed Williame Sietinen.”
“Your record with the TSS has been verified,” the councilwoman to the left of the man stated, “and Cristoph Sietinen has attested to the engagement. However, the attestation was not ratified by the central Sietinen administrative office.”
It wasn’t? Saera panicked.
“I am an official for Sietinen,” Marina jumped in. “Pursuant to code 18.207 subsection B, I am authorized to speak in the best interest of the Sietinen Dynasty when no member of the Dynasty is present.”
“And you wish the record to show you as a proxy in this matter?” the councilman asked.
Marina gave a single nod. “I do.”
“Then the conditions for expedited citizenship are satisfied,” the councilman stated.
Saera released a long breath of relief. What would have happened if she wasn’t here?
“Does the council ratify that this woman be admitted as a Taran citizen with the Dynasties?” the councilman asked his comrades.
The council members murmured agreement.
“Saera Alexri, born of Earth,” the councilman continued, “do you commit to abide by the laws governing the Taran civilization and uphold your conduct as a Taran citizen?”
“I do,” Saera affirmed.
A moment later, a holographic panel appeared around the curved lip of the podium in front of the council. Each member of the council placed their right hand on the projection, and a ring on each of their middle fingers flashed blue, sending a beam of light up to the ceiling.
“The citizenship is confirmed,” the councilman stated. “Step forward to receive your Mark.”
As Saera approached the podium, a door hidden in one of the wood panels slid open and a machine on a polished metal arm extended outward. The contraption reminded Saera of a tattoo gun with a curved half-cylinder of acrylic below.
“Place your left wrist palm up,” the councilman instructed.
Saera complied, her heart pounding in her ears.
The cylinder tightened on her wrist to hold it in place. When her arm was secured, the device above descended. Before she had time to question what it was doing, a narrow needle plunged into her wrist, sending a sharp pain up her arm. The needle withdrew almost immediately, leaving only a tiny prick of blood. That must be the ID chip.
A purple light illuminated over her skin, and the rest of the contraption sprang to life with a low whir. It rapidly circled her wrist, etching the Alexri Dynasty crest of a broadleaf tree against a starry sky. As the final stroke, her name was inscribed below the crest. The Mark suspended just above the surface of her skin, and it became invisible the moment the light on the machine turned off.
“You are now a recognized citizen of the Taran worlds,” the councilman stated.
Saera smiled up at him and placed the palm of her right hand over the new Mark on the wrist, which was beginning to sting. “I will fulfill my duties to Tararia with honor,” Saera said, following Cris’ recommended phrasing, though she left out his sarcastic laugh at the end.
The holographic projection above the council podium vanished with a shimmer.
“This way, please,” the clerk said, gesturing toward a door opposite the entrance.
Saera and Marina followed her out the door into an empty hallway with an illuminated sign pointing toward the building lobby.
“Thank you,” Marina said.
The clerk inclined her head and returned to the council chamber.
Saera turned to her mother as soon as they were alone in the hallway. “Vouching for Sietinen… That’s why you were really here?”
Marina nodded with a prim smile. “Your ratification would have gone through anyway—our genetic tie is undeniable. But it would have been an unnecessary delay. You and Wil have been through enough.”
“Won’t you get in trouble?”
“Any difficulty is well worth helping my daughter.”
“Still, you didn’t have Reinen’s permission,” Saera whispered. “Speaking on his behalf—”
“The code I quoted is ‘acting in the best interest.’ That is precisely what I did, even if he doesn’t quite see it that way himself yet.”
Maybe I misjudged her. Saera bobbed her head. “Thank you.”
Marina brushed Saera’s shoulder with her hand. “Now, we have a little while before you need to return. I think it’s time we start some official wedding planning.”
Saera let out a slow, heavy breath. “I’m going to be pretty useless in the planning department.”
“Customs may be a little different on Tararia than Earth, but I know you must have some fantasies in mind. I remember you playing dress-up as a little girl.”
Saera laughed. “Yeah, when I was, like, three.”
“Well, now you can do it for real. I happen to have an inside connection with a extremely talented seamstress.”
“Dress shopping?” Saera asked.
“If you’re up for it.”
I’m not sure when else I’d get the chance. “Sure, let’s do it.”
Marina escorted her out of the administrative building, and they took a private car east along the coast toward the downtown core of the city.
When the car stopped, Saera stepped out onto a bustling street with well-dressed citizens and colorful clothing suited to the temperate climate. Her own dark blue Junior Agent uniform was out of place, but she matched her mother’s self-assured posture.
The seamstress’ studio was on the seventh floor of a glass-walled high-rise. The receptionist led Saera and Marina to a plush couch in an airy room with windows along the back wall overlooking a park below. A round platform was situated two meters in front of the couch.
They took a seat, and the receptionist brought two cups of a floral tea.
“This is one of the finest dressmakers on Tararia,” Marina said as she took a sip of tea. “It’s rare to get an appointment.”
“I guess you can drop the Sietinen name and get pretty much anything,” Saera replied.
“Well, there are some advantages.”
The door opened, and a petite woman in her middle years stepped in carrying a tablet. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun on top of her head with several strands hanging down to frame her face.
“Hello, I am Danica,” the seamstress greeted. “You are here for a wedding dress, yes?”
“Correct,” Marina replied.
Danica looked over Saera. “And is this the bride?”
Saera nodded. “I
am.”
“Let me have a look at you. Take off your jacket,” Danica said as she motioned Saera to her feet. Saera rose and slipped off her jacket while the seamstress eyed her from a distance. “You are athletic,” Danica commended.
“I’m in the TSS.”
The seamstress’ eye paused on Saera’s tinted glasses. “And training as an Agent, no doubt.”
“Yes,” Saera responded.
Danica’s widened her eyes with surprise and she consulted her tablet. “Step onto the platform, please,” she instructed.
Saera positioned herself on the center of the platform , and a holographic grid appeared around her.
“What did you have in mind for the dress?” Danica asked.
“I’m not sure,” Saera replied. “I don’t want anything too poufy, but otherwise I’ll follow your recommendations.”
Danica placed her hand on her chin, thoughtful. “Where will the wedding be held?”
“In the gardens of the Sietinen estate, I think.” I guess we never really talked about it.
The seamstress smiled. “Very well.” She began to manipulate the grid around Saera, molding it to her body along her torso and then fanning it out from her hips. A dress began to take shape—sculpted in light. When the shape was in place, Danica added a layer of white and began adding in details.
Saera was mesmerized by the movement of the seamstress’ hands, manipulating the pleats and folds into an elegant, wearable work of art.
After half an hour, Danica stepped back. “What do you think?”
Saera looked over to the mirror that had been on the wall to her back. Her breath caught when she saw herself from a distance. The tight bodice cascaded into a flowing skirt with an asymmetrical waistline and embroidered silver jewels down the side.
“Wow,” was all Saera could manage to say. This makes it feel real. Marrying Wil…
“Is there anything you want to change with the design?” Danica asked.
Saera shook her head. “I can’t think of a single thing.”
The seamstress smiled and bowed her head. “I will record the specifications. The design will remain visible so long as you stay on the platform. I’ll give you a few minutes.” She made a entries on her tablet and then departed.