by Jake Bible
“Your hand is sweaty and stinks of breen oil,” the girl, Meredith, barked. “I don’t need a nurse anymore. I’m eight.” She looked over at Alexis and turned up her nose. “But you can get rid of this old geezer. He’s bothering me and was rude.”
“Sir!” the nurse exclaimed as she came upon the two. “Do you know who you are addressing? This is Meredith Herlect, third daughter of the Master of Station Thraen, Paul the Third.”
“That’s a lot of thirds,” Alexis said as he stood up, instantly towering over the woman. “My father is...was a third, as well. But I guess I’ll be a first once I return home.”
The nurse stared at Alexis for a split second then immediately dropped to a knee, her eyes cast down, her voice trembling as she said, “My apologies, your highness. I was not aware it was you. Please forgive me for not realizing it instantly, Master Alexis.”
“Get up, nurse,” Alexis laughed. “There are so many pompous faces around here, mine included. I would expect them to all start being a blur. You’ve done no offense. In fact, you and your ward here have reminded me just what a puffed up show this all is.”
He glanced over at a group of stewards from Station Ploerv. They stood in a tight knit circle, their eyes narrowed and lips curled up at those not from their Station. Alexis looked down at the Minoress Meredith.
“Looks like they are trying to figure out which one farted,” he said, giving the girl a wink.
No matter the intention of her demeanor, an eight year old girl was an eight year old girl, and Meredith couldn’t help but giggle at the word “fart.”
“My lady, it is time for business to start,” the nurse said, hiding her own smile. “I’ll take you to your quarters now.”
“I want to stay,” Meredith snapped.
“And one day you will,” Alexis responded. “Just not today. I had to wait my turn when I was your age. Waiting is not fun.” He leaned down and put his hand to his mouth in exaggerated conspiracy. “And neither are these things, really. I’d rather be out on a cutter, racing towards my prime than stuck in a meeting hall like this.”
“I as well,” a man said, coming up behind Alexis. “Perhaps after the signing I can invite you onto my personal cutter? We are taking a tour of the west coast of Thraen Prime.”
“Minor Paul.” Alexis nodded. “Good to see you. And I will take you up on that offer since I’m missing my rotational synch launch and cannot return to Station Aelon for another week.”
“Why would you return so soon?” asked Minor Paul Herlect, first son and heir of Paul III, Master of Station Thraen. “I’m never in a hurry to return to those floating cans. Even with the Vape ready to cook your insides, I much prefer planetary life on the prime than station life. The day I am forced to stay up there in space will be a sad day indeed.”
“Then enjoy the days you have,” Alexis said, grasping Paul by the shoulder. “They disappear faster than you think.”
“More reason to join me on my cutter,” Paul said.
“So true,” Alexis replied. “But only if your spirited sister will be there.”
“Watch me try to hold her back,” Paul laughed as a bell rang out, signaling the start of the treaty signing. “But, first, duty calls.”
“As it always does,” Alexis smiled as the minor bowed slightly and walked to his delegation’s table.
“I hope to see you later, minoress,” Alexis said, then looked to the nurse. “How is it you know of my father’s passing, and my becoming a master, but his highness does not? Or I assume he does not. If he does then that conversation was more than weird.”
“News travels fast with passengers, your highness,” the nurse responded. “We have less to talk and worry about than the royalty.”
“Well, I’m not so sure about that,” Alexis laughed. “But maybe news means more to passengers since the slightest shift in power can upset a passenger’s life, while the royalty insists on finishing lunch first before being bothered with anything.”
Again the nurse had to hide her smile. She curtsied low and then took Meredith’s hand before making her way from the grand hall.
“My lord? I, uh, mean, your highness? Shall we take our seats?” a short, well-fed man asked, his hands clasped across his stout belly.
The man waved his hand towards a row of chairs where the Aelon delegation waited, standing at attention until their monarch was seated.
“Of course, Alasdair,” Alexis nodded.
“Your highness, it would be more appropriate to address me as Steward de Morlan,” de Morlan said as he directed the new master to his seat. “The familiar can upset some of our more formal cousins.”
“Almost everything upsets many of our more formal cousins here.” Alexis frowned as he took his seat.
The Aelish delegation immediately sat down once the master’s chair had been pushed to the table. Alexis looked left then right and nodded and smiled as expected despite his misgivings about most of the other members of the delegation.
Being the new master meant he could clean house and reassign some key posts. He knew he’d have to discuss it all with Eliza once he returned. As long as she was up to the task and not too exhausted from her pregnancy.
Alexis leaned over to de Morlan and whispered, “You have informed the gatekeepers that I want no mention of my father’s death until after the treaty is signed, correct?”
“I did, your highness,” de Morlan replied. “I was assured that the High Guardian would be told of your wishes.”
“Good. Thank you, Alasdair,” Alexis nodded, ignoring the man’s eye roll at his use of the familiar name once again.
Chimes sounded and Alexis found himself back on his feet as High Guardian of The Way, Benedict XI, walked into the room, followed by a train of gatekeepers that looked as if it would never stop. The pontiff limped his way to his chair, which was more ornate and larger than any of the other seats in the room, stood for a moment then almost collapsed into the breen cushions.
He waved a hand and everyone took their seats once again.
“Welcome,” Benedict said. “All thank Helios for the grace of life and gift of our souls.”
“All thank Helios,” the room intoned.
The High Guardian took a deep breath and then began his speech, one he had said a thousand times before many an official occasion.
“Helios—the One True System,” he began. “Planet, Star, System, Deity. Helios is all. Helios is our God and Protector. The Dear Parent who watches over us, watches over our primes, watches over our very souls. Helios, giver of the Vape and grower of breen. Helios—the One True System. May we praise the Dear Parent and all that Helios provides.”
“Praise to the Dear Parent and all that Helios provides,” the room repeated.
“So long ago, our ancestors believed in many gods and goddesses,” Benedict recited from memory. Half the room had to bite their tongues to keep from groaning. “Their belief in those false gods was what led to the Cataclysm; an event so violent that it ripped a continent apart into the primes, sent vast amounts of gas that would be known as Vape into the atmosphere, and forced all of humanity to flee to the safety of the stations and their orbits about the planet.”
He nodded his head six times and everyone in the room did the same.
“Almost all of the knowledge of those first peoples has been lost, but we fear not because Helios provided us with a better understanding of the universe,” Benedict said. “The Dear Parent gave us The Way.”
“The Way,” the room replied.
“Ordaining the gatekeepers as the moral and spiritual guides of all, Helios proved his intentions by allowing The Way Prime to have a clear path on and off the planet. It is the holy miracle that parts the Vape clouds only over this piece of land that shows all the ordained nature of The Way and the gatekeepers. Praise be to the men and women that keep you from sliding into evil and dying in the atmosphere.”
“Praise be to the gatekeepers,” the room droned.
“Helio
s,” Benedict said quickly, ignoring the lack of enthusiasm. He raised his arms above his head and let his long sleeves slide down to his bony and age-spotted elbows. “By your mercy we live.”
“Helios,” the room said. “By your mercy we live.”
A low noise was heard as everyone present finished the prayer by humming the deepest note they could. The sound was discordant and slightly off putting due to the differences in range, but no one cared as they knew it meant the end of the invocation.
“Thank you. I know we have important business, but first we must all bow our heads in silence for the passing of one of Helios’s chosen,” Benedict sighed. “Henry III, Master of Station Aelon, is no longer with us on this plane and has moved on to travel the System, his corporeal being of no use to him any longer.”
Fists clenched, Alexis kept his anger under control, making sure his face was passive and open as the entire room looked to him. He gave perfunctory nods to those of stations that were once only hours before close to his rank as minor then lowered his head in silence as a set of bells rang six times. There was a long pause and then a final ring to symbolize the singularity of The Way in the eyes of Helios.
“Although you have not been crowned as of yet, Master Alexis,” Benedict said once the last tones of the bells faded away. “I believe, as the only master amongst us, you should open these proceedings with some words of encouragement and wisdom.”
A couple of muffled snickers could be heard, but Alexis couldn’t find the sources. Again, he kept his anger in check and looked about the room.
“Thank you, your holiness,” Alexis said. “I do not have any words planned, and the news of my father’s passing has only reached my ears this hour, so I will keep it brief.”
He took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts for a moment.
“As many of you know firsthand, my father was not a leader of any extraordinary measure,” Alexis said. More muffled snickers. “He was brash, fiscally irresponsible, and aloof to many of the basic needs of being a master. His passion was for architecture and engineering, not leadership of an entire station and people.”
“Helios praise his soul,” de Morlan said.
“Yes, Helios praise his soul,” Alexis nodded. “He will be traveling the System, I’m sure, looking for new ways to combine the molecules that bind us all.”
There was some genuine laughter and Alexis smiled.
“May I propose we postpone the signing?” Minor Paul said, standing from his seat across the room from Alexis. “Your grief must be overwhelming and we would not want you to sign out of duty or duress. You were instructed as to what the parameters of the treaty must be by your father, but now you are master and can make your own decisions.”
The room was silent at the interruption; all eyes moved back and forth from Alexis to Paul.
“While I thank the minor for his sentiments,” Alexis said, nodding to Paul. “I do not believe any delay is needed. Despite my admissions to my father’s failings, his wishes as to the future of the primes match mine in almost every way. I will gladly sign the treaty we have agreed upon, as former minor and as newly risen Master of Station Aelon. Having the prime lands on this planet secured and trade agreements in place would be the highest honor I could give my father’s memory.”
He waited for a response from Paul, but the minor merely bowed and took his seat.
“High Guardian?” Alexis said. “May we proceed with the signing?”
“We may,” Benedict nodded, motioning for the gatekeepers in the room to move forward and provide copies of the treaty to each of the head delegates. “Please take your time to read the documents before you. Make sure the wording is as was agreed upon. If it is to your satisfaction then please adorn them with your signature and pass your document to the right. Once all copies are signed then this meeting will be adjourned and we can welcome in a new age to relations between the stations and their primes, as well as between the monarchies and The Way.”
The delegates settled into their seats and began to read the many-paged documents before them.
It would be a long evening.
* * *
“Ahhh, free!” Paul cheered, raising his arms into the air as the royal cutter sped across the steaming ocean of Helios.
Mist rose and curled into streaks, running across the thick glass and polybreen dome that kept the occupants of the cutter from being suffocated and blistered by the planet’s inhospitable atmosphere. The cutter was close to twenty feet long, with a hull that began narrow in the bow and spread into wide, arching wings that glided across the surface of the water towards the stern.
“Relax, Master Alexis,” Paul said, motioning towards an empty cushioned bench across from his own. He glanced over at the small group of Aelish royal guards that stood uncomfortably across from the large contingent of Thraenish royal guards. “And tell your men to relax, as well. They make me nervous. Enjoy the sight of the Vape at night, Alexis. It is a wonder to behold.” He clapped his hands together. “Tell the pilot to cut the ship’s lights. We cannot enjoy the night if all we see are reflections.”
“But, my lord, we would be sailing blind,” a man said from off to Paul’s side. “It would not be safe.”
“We are in the middle of a vast ocean,” Paul snapped. “What could we possibly run into? Tell the pilot now!”
“No need to put us at risk or give the pilot added stress,” Alexis said as he sat down and gave a quick, reassuring nod to his guards. “I’m enjoying the ride as it is.”
“You’re enjoying nothing,” Paul said. “Look at you. I’ve seen passengers with the weeping sickness have more fun than you do now.”
“My father did just pass,” Alexis said, taking a glass of brown liquor from a tray offered to him by one of the ever present servants. “Thank you.”
Paul frowned and waved the servant away then leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. Dressed in a tunic of blue breen material tucked into a pair of dark green breen trousers, Paul tried to give the air of a casual commoner and not the next in line for the mastership of Station Thraen. He would have pulled it off if not for the amount of jewelry and precious metals he wore about his neck, wrists, and fingers.
“My apologies, Master Alexis,” Paul said. “I forget myself when I am out on the water. I’ve always believed that open water is the great equalizer. It doesn’t matter what our place is in the hierarchy of the stations, the waters of Helios could give a shit. If this cutter were to capsize, then we’d all boil and die in seconds, just like the servants around us. Crowned or not, we are flesh and bone.”
There was a sharp hiss and then intake of breath from the corner of the dome and Alexis smiled as he saw the figure of Gatekeeper Clegg tense up. Paul heard it as well and turned to follow Alexis’s gaze.
“Have I offended your sensibilities, gatekeeper? Was my use of such crude language too much for your sheltered ears?” Paul laughed.
“The gatekeeper has heard worse, trust me,” Alexis said. “I believe his less than subtle objection was to your lumping royalty with commoners.”
“Yes, your highness,” Gatekeeper Clegg said quietly. “The hierarchy is important to the stability of the stations. Saying anything less puts the royalty, the nobility, as well as those of us of The Way, at risk for rebellion.”
Paul grimaced in exaggeration and waved his hands about. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He laughed heartily and rolled his eyes. “Not that the passengers or any denizens of our Lower Decks will ever rise up against the status quo. They’d have to learn to think first.”
“You underestimate your people, minor,” Alexis replied. “Societal class hardly dictates a person’s intelligence. I highly doubt I am the smartest person on Station Aelon, and I am almost certain there are passengers living below the station’s surface that could outthink the majority of the stewards, sector wardens, and deck bosses that cling to their supremacy.”
“Ha! Alexis! You surprise me, sir. Do I detect
the hint of a revolutionary hiding behind a regal facade?”
“No, Paul, you do not,” Alexis replied. “I don’t believe revolution will help anyone. Helios knows democracy was tried millennia ago and all it did was lead to corruption and slaughter of innocents. No, the monarchy works and it should stay in place.” Alexis leaned forward, matching Paul’s pose. “But maybe we should take advantage of the assets we have in our stations, and down here on the primes, and allow passengers a seat at the table. The voice of the people should be heard, at least.”
“Ah...a populist then.”
“Perhaps,” Alexis nodded.
Minor Paul watched the young master closely, his eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts.
“Yes...perhaps,” Paul responded finally. “But I’ll let you be the one to tread those waters first. Thraen is stable and happy as it is.”
“Of course,” Alexis nodded and took a sip of his drink. “So is Aelon. But for how long?”
“Forever,” Paul replied. “Helios willing.”
“Praise the Dear Parent,” Clegg murmured.
“Praise the Dear Parent!” Paul echoed loudly.
Alexis turned his attention to the gatekeeper then looked about the dome at the Thraenish servants, guards and dignitaries.
“No gatekeeper of your own?” Alexis asked. “It is my understanding that all ships that traverse the ocean must have a gatekeeper to bless their way.”
“What? Oh, no, not this trip,” Paul said. “I hate traveling with the robes. All that hissing and murmuring.” He turned and smiled at Clegg. “I joke, gatekeeper. No disrespect meant. No, the truth is Gatekeeper Schoul was under the weather. A touch of the planetary trots, if you catch my drift. Your gatekeeper was kind enough to volunteer to accompany us. Although I suspect it was more to keep an eye on you than as a kind gesture to Thraen.”