Starbound

by Brenda Hiatt

  It was from Mr. O, suggesting I eat breakfast in the Commons today. “You may have set things back a bit with some of the Royals last night but it’s the common people who will vote for your Acclamation, so they’re the ones you need to convince. Meanwhile, I’ll do my best to bring the Royals around and make them understand they have more to gain by supporting you than by working against you.”

  His somber tone dampened my euphoria somewhat and Sean’s foul mood did the rest, when we stopped for him on the way down. I sensed it even before I noticed his ferocious frown.

  “What?”

  “Last night, of course. First you insist he—” he stabbed a finger at Rigel— “sit at the table with us. Way to put those rumors to rest.”

  “And Molly.” I refused to let him make me feel guilty. “It’s a stupid tradition, making them stand there for the whole meal when they’re as hungry as the rest of us.”

  “Yeah? How’s a Bodyguard supposed to protect you from the other end of the table?”

  Rigel immediately jumped to my defense. “You’re the one always saying she doesn’t need a Bodyguard when you’re right next to her.”

  Sean shifted his scowl from me to Rigel. “That’s not the point and you know it. You both know it.”

  The lift doors opened onto the Commons and we all shut up for as long as it took all of us to get food and sit down. Molly and I sat between the two boys, who both still felt like they wanted to pummel each other. Hoping to defuse things a bit, I turned to Sean.

  “Okay, maybe having them sit at the table was a dumb move, since it was my very first formal dinner. I won’t do it again, okay?”

  “If you even get the chance.” Sean’s frown took on a slightly worried edge. “What if they decide to replace him as your Bodyguard because of those rumors? Did you even think of that?”

  “They can’t. The Council agreed—”

  “The Council’s not here, in case you hadn’t noticed. And they won’t be on Mars, either. Nobody there will be bound by promises the Echtran Council made. They don’t have any power in Nuath.”

  The very last trace of my good mood vanished as I realized he was right. And nobody with authority on Mars knew about the Grentl, so I wouldn’t have that leverage there, either. In fact, I might not have any leverage at all until I got properly Acclaimed Sovereign.

  “And what was all that stuff last night about how Faxon might have been right?” Sean continued while I was still absorbing that.

  “What?” My worry abruptly shifted to anger, which felt a lot better. “I never said that! Not even close. He murdered my parents, in case you’ve forgotten, and my grandparents.”

  But Sean didn’t back down. “Then what was all that about inequality between the fines? It sounded just like the propaganda Faxon spouted when he was in power.”

  I blinked. “All I did was ask questions. What you’re repeating are the answers they gave me. Answers nobody bothered to give me before.”

  “Because you never asked before!” Sean spoke so heatedly I could tell we’d finally arrived at the real issue. “I could have told you this stuff any time, or my parents could have. But no, you wait till your first formal dinner with Royals who might or might not be in a position to help you get Acclaimed, then go out of your way to antagonize them. Why?”

  I glared up at him, ready with another retort, but then the justice of Sean’s words penetrated and my anger disappeared as quickly as it had come.

  “I didn’t plan to antagonize them. And it wasn’t until yesterday, when I started digging through the archives and not finding answers, that I even realized I needed to ask those questions.” I didn’t add that I’d found the reactions of the various Royals, and the Captain, as instructive as their words.

  “Yeah, well, you should have asked me, or my dad.” Sean’s vibe grew less hostile, along with his tone. “You could probably tell it’s still a pretty touchy subject, especially among Royals. Maybe our society wasn’t perfect, but what society is? Like my dad said, nobody was going hungry or homeless or anything, at least not until Faxon started taking everything for himself and his favorites.”

  “Okay, fine, maybe I should have asked you guys first. But I had to find out where his supporters were coming from, in case…in case there are people on Mars who still feel that way. I need to know what I’m up against because Royals might not be the only ones I have to worry about. Remember those protesters in Bailerealta? You’ve learned enough Earth history by now to understand that once an idea takes hold, it can take on a life of its own, even if the person who started it goes bad or even dies.”

  “She’s right, Sean,” Molly said softly, like she was afraid he might turn his anger on her. “Remember what we read about the Russian revolution? How it started and what it became? There were others, too.”

  I could almost see the wheels turning in Sean’s head as he thought about it. Finally, he nodded. “I guess. I still wish you’d asked me first.”

  “Next time, I promise.” I put all the reassurance I could into my voice, my smile. And though I could tell Rigel didn’t like it, it seemed to work.

  Sean heaved a big sigh and smiled back, though it seemed to cost him an effort. “My dad’s talking with them now, trying to convince them you were just trying to understand, that you’re not planning to go all…all Communist or anything.”

  “Good. Because I’m not. And I’ll try not to do anything else to piss them off, okay?” I picked up a forkful of my stone cold scrambled eggs. The others finally started eating, too, and the tension at the table gradually dissipated.

  At least, until Molly said offhandedly, “Yeah, you don’t want to do anything that’ll make them check that video feed.”

  I glared at her and she made a little motion like she was trying to snatch her words back.

  “What?” Sean stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth, frowning again. “What video feed? The one in your suite? Why? What’s on it?”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly—and probably not very convincingly. “Just private conversations—”

  Molly quickly helped me out. “Yeah, after dinner we were all saying stuff about how obnoxious some of those Royals were. It wouldn’t be good if that got back to them.”

  Rigel hadn’t said anything at all, but I’d sensed the same stab of fear from him that I felt myself at Molly’s reminder. I shot a sideways glance his way, but he was keeping his eyes totally on his plate. Just past him, though, I saw Brenna watching us, looking way too interested. She met my eye for a fraction of a second then turned away—but not before I saw a secret little smile.

  How much had she heard, and who would she tell?

  Rigel’s worry had started to fade, but when he caught my thought, it spiked again. You don’t think anyone will actually listen to her, do you?

  I doubt it. It’s not like we actually said anything incriminating just now. Molly covered really well.

  I hoped I was doing a better job convincing him than myself.

  CHAPTER 21

  coslacht (ko-SLACT): appearance; impression; influence

  After breakfast, we hung around the Commons for a while, since Mr. O wanted me to make a good impression on as many people as I could. Sean and Molly taught Rigel and me how to play skittles, a game a little like bowling, then we joined the other teens for cards again. But just like yesterday, people kept interrupting our game to talk to me.

  After losing the first round rather spectacularly, I stood up. “I’ll go read for a while so you guys can actually play.”

  Not that I managed any reading, either. If anything, sitting alone encouraged even more people to approach. In fact, the way they were lining up, I felt like I was holding court even before getting Acclaimed. Fortunately, my emotion-sensing radar was working better than ever after my makeout session with Rigel last night and it seemed most people felt even more positively toward me today than yesterday.

  There were exceptions, of course, like Brenna’s mom, who was clearly irrita
ted when I couldn’t tell her how soon proper elections would be held once I reached Nuath. And Gordon, who didn’t speak to me but passed close enough that I was able to get a “read” on him when he glanced my way and nodded. His vibe felt ickier than ever—angry, frustrated and resentful. Worse, I had a feeling he was the kind of guy who’d do anything to get his way—or get me out of the way.

  Don’t let him mess with your head, Rigel thought from his position behind me. Everybody else loves you and that’s what matters.

  His encouragement helped, even if it wasn’t quite true. I was heartened further by the older couple who gushed (sincerely) about how happy they were I was alive and coming to Mars, and the young mother with two kids who thanked me for lifting everyone’s spirits after all the damage Faxon had done.

  “It was so depressing, even hearing about it from Earth, you can’t imagine. You’re just the tonic we all needed, Princess.”

  After a while, a few Royals made a point of coming over to apologize for their attitudes last night and seemed to mean it. Phelan and Annwyn, in particular, appeared to have completely put aside their reservations about me. When the two approached and bowed, I probed them both for all I was worth but didn’t sense anything more negative than a bit of wariness from Annwyn. Both of them radiated an eagerness to please, along with a gratifying tinge of admiration.

  “I’m terribly sorry, Excellency, if our responses to your questions last night seemed rather, ah, fraught,” Phelan said. “We were caught a bit off guard, but it’s both natural and prudent that you should wish to understand how the political climate in Nuath shifted over the years leading up to and following Faxon’s takeover. Please don’t hesitate to ask me any other questions you might have about that time.”

  “Or me,” Annwyn chimed in. “Though I imagine Quinn O’Gara has told you all you wished to know by now?”

  He hadn’t had a chance yet, but it was a good reminder that I had an excellent resource who was definitely in favor of my Acclamation. “Thank you both. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your understanding and support.” As I’d tried to do with everyone, I matched my words and tone to their emotions and was rewarded by pleased relief from both women.

  They chatted for a few more minutes, then invited me to join the other Royals at a big table in the corner. The table where Gordon and Devyn were already sitting.

  Smiling, I shook my head. “I’ve promised to have lunch with some of my new friends—ones around my age, I mean—but thanks so much for inviting me.”

  When the card game broke up, Sean and Molly headed our way along with a couple of the others. We all found a table together, making my half-fib to Phelan and Annwyn true after all. Lunchtime conversation centered on the games they’d just finished playing, which let me relax and take a break from gauging people’s attitudes.

  From across the room, I saw Mr. O’Gara join the Royals for lunch. A moment after he sat down, Gordon got up and left. Jerk. Brenna and her mom left the Commons just a few seconds later and I found myself hoping none of them would come back. Negative vibes were a lot more draining than positive ones, I’d discovered.

  You want to spend the afternoon upstairs again? Rigel suggested sympathetically. I could tell you were getting kind of wrung out.

  I’m fine for now, but I’ll take another break if it gets to be too much, I promise. His concern gave me another little boost of strength. A good thing, since the minute I left the lunch table I was besieged again by people wanting either reassurance or favors. Even Devyn stopped by. Like last night, I felt nothing but goodwill and honesty from him, making me wonder if projecting positivity was his special power. It would definitely be a useful one for a politician.

  When Rigel, Molly and I finally went up to our suite late that afternoon, I found another message waiting from Mr. O, this one super upbeat.

  “You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve spoken with the other Royals as well as a fair cross-section of the passengers and they all seem extremely well-disposed toward you, Excellency. Still, I recommend you continue to engage as many people as possible for the remainder of the voyage. You can never have too much support, though at this point I predict your Acclamation will be a mere formality when we reach Nuath. Well done!”

  All three of us cheered and Rigel and I exchanged what amounted to a mental hug of relief and congratulations. It looked like we were in the clear after all!

  Molly insisted I dress a little nicer for dinner, even in the Commons. “It shows respect for everyone else. Trust me on this.”

  “You know, sometimes I think you’d be a lot better at this Sovereign thing than me.” I was only half teasing. “Are you sure you don’t have a little Royal blood in you somewhere?”

  The sudden hurt I sensed from her took me by surprise. “Just because I kill every plant I try to grow—”

  “No, Molly, I didn’t mean that at all!” I felt mortified by my stupid slip. “I’m sure you’ll be the best Agriculturalist ever, one of these days. I just meant you’re so good at all the protocol stuff. Way better than I am, even though I’ve studied it till it’s coming out of my ears.”

  She smiled reluctantly, the hurt fading. “Then thanks, I guess. And really, being the Sovereign’s Handmaid is way further up the social ladder than even the top-ranking Ag, so it’s not like I can complain. Here, why don’t you wear this?”

  Though it seemed like she pulled the outfit out of my closet almost at random to change the subject, it was perfect, nice but not too fancy: a swishy green skirt and a cream top with matching green trim. The green was the exact shade of my eyes so I knew it would be flattering.

  “Thanks, Molly. You have a great eye, even better than Bri. Which is lucky for me, since I’ve always been hopeless in the fashion department.”

  I swirled for Rigel when we came out of the bedroom and was rewarded by a wash of appreciation and love that nearly made me throw myself at him again, since I’d decided not to worry about the stupid cameras. But it would embarrass Molly and she’d feel obligated to remind us again about her chaperone duties, so I restrained myself. Still, I was in a great mood when we headed down to dinner, already wondering if I could talk Rigel into another late-night rendezvous.

  Mars was finally on the Commons viewscreen tonight. The sight of that reddish sphere brought my excitement surging back—an excitement I’d almost forgotten, with everything else going on. I was born there! It was still impossible to believe. I had to pull my gaze away when Sean called us over to the table he and all the other teens—except Brenna—had staked out. During dinner, everyone talked about what they wanted to do first once we reached Nuath, all of them as upbeat as I was.

  Mr. O stopped by our table as we finished eating, looking the most relaxed I’d seen him since leaving Indiana. “You got my message?”

  I nodded. “Everything’s been going great at my end, too. Thanks!”

  “This will make things go much more smoothly in Nuath. I’ve already written a message to the Council I can send once we land. Are you ready for your first gravity reversal?”

  Sean had told me about that earlier today. We’d all be strapped in while the ship switched over from acceleration to deceleration, since that would make the gravity would go wonky for about half an hour. Sean claimed it was fun, but I was a little worried I’d get queasy.

  “I guess so. Do you, um, want to sit with us?”

  He waved a hand dismissively. “No, no, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourselves more if I don’t. And there’ll probably be a movie afterward, there usually is. We can talk tomorrow. Perhaps over breakfast?”

  I agreed to that and he left us. Not long after, a ship-wide announcement reminded everyone that they had fifteen minutes to report to the Commons and secure themselves for deceleration. Of course, most people were here already because of dinner. The latecomers started eating more quickly while a few others who’d been elsewhere filtered in.

  The changeover of the Commons from dining/recreation area back to
theater-style seating was pretty cool all by itself. We all stood to one side and watched as tables, chairs and all the games and workout equipment sank into the floor. A moment later panels slid over everything and, after some rumbling, the airplane-type seats rose up again to fill most of the floor space.

  “Everyone please be seated,” the Captain’s voice boomed over the speakers. “Deceleration will commence in five minutes.”

  “C’mon.” Sean grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the front, nearest the viewscreen. “You’re going to love this! I’ve got ping-pong balls and stuff.”

  “Huh?” I was totally confused and could tell Rigel was, too.

  “You’ll see.” Molly was grinning. “I’ve got a hair clip and a pen.”

  Still baffled, we accompanied Sean, Molly and several other teens to the third row of seats, which Sean insisted was the best place to sit. Just like for takeoff, Sean sat on my left, Rigel on my right and Molly on Rigel’s other side. I wished Rigel and I could hold hands. Not that I was exactly nervous, but—

  Yeah, I know, me too. But it’ll be fine, he assured me.

  I didn’t have time to wonder if he was right because just seconds after we’d latched our harnesses, the ship shuddered slightly and then I felt…weird. Sort of like going down fast in an elevator, making my stomach feel higher than it should be. Was this weightlessness?

  Sean nudged me. “Check this out.” He pulled a ping-pong ball out of his pocket, held it out in front of me, then let it go. It drifted slightly upwards, then to the left, where it stayed motionless, spinning. On my other side, Molly set a hair clip in midair and when it didn’t do anything, she tapped it my way. It spun lazily past Rigel’s nose, then mine, toward Sean. In front of us, I saw kids, teens, and a few adults releasing other lightweight, relatively harmless objects into the air in front of them, just to watch them be weightless. Awesome!

  “Can I try?” I asked Molly. Grinning again, she handed me a ballpoint pen.