by Jake Bible
“How long have these lines been here?” she asked, her tone telling Alexis that anything less than the truth would not be accepted.
“Since yesterday,” he admitted.
“You worked hard to make sure I didn’t notice,” she responded. “While I applaud your effort, I condemn your deceit. I should make you stand up and give a speech on that.”
“I’m all speeched out.” Alexis grimaced as Eliza pressed her fingers to the wound.
“We need to get you to the physicians,” she replied.
“No,” Alexis said, his voice strong and unwavering. “I stay here. If I leave then this all falls apart. The meeting of passengers is more important than one wounded master of station.”
“Not to me,” Eliza snapped.
“Yes, even to you,” Alexis said and kissed her before she could argue. “Because it will be important to our children and our children’s children. This is my legacy, not a failed war on the planet.”
Eliza took a deep breath then let it out slowly.
“Fine,” she said. “But the second it is politically prudent for you to leave then you leave. No arguments.”
“No arguments,” Alexis nodded and kissed her again.
“Good,” she said as she pulled away and helped him settle his tunic. “Then call this meeting to order and let’s see what the people of Station Aelon have in store for us.”
* * *
From a far corner of the very top level railing, a man stood, a mess of wild, curly red hair tucked into the hood of a breen cloak. His hands were lifted in front of his eyes and stayed there for a long while. When they were finally dropped they revealed a set of binoculars clutched in his gloved fingers.
“Not quite the outcome we had hoped for,” a voice said from back in the shadows.
The hooded man turned to face the voice and peered into the gloom.
“For a moment there I thought the master would do my work for me,” the hooded man said. “He almost lost the station in one fit of homicidal rage.”
“You’d be surprised how many times that scenario has played out through the ages with the Teirmont family,” the shadowed man replied.
The man in the hood looked about and stepped towards the shadows, gesturing to a barely visible door set into the metal wall.
“Follow me,” the hooded man said. “We can talk in private.”
“I only have a couple of minutes before I’ll be missed,” the shadowed man replied.
“It will only take a couple of minutes,” the hooded man said as he opened the door and slipped inside.
The man in the shadows looked about the platform, but no one paid him any notice. They were all too engrossed in the proceedings below. He followed quickly and found himself in a tight corridor. The man in the hood was already several yards away, waiting by another door.
“For a man who is short on time, you sure are taking yours,” the hooded man laughed. “Get a sense of urgency, steward.”
“Quiet,” the shadowed man hissed as his face was illuminated by the dim lighting that flickered above. Steward Girard Stolt. “If anyone over hears you it will be both of our heads.”
“No, it will be your head,” the hood man replied. “I’m the outlaw and not exactly easy to catch.”
“I could call my guards right now and have you arrested,” Stolt responded. “I’d be an instant hero.”
“To the gentry, yes,” the other man said. “But not to anyone on the decks. And especially not to the lower decks. You’d become Target Number One like that.” He snapped his fingers then pointed to the door. “In.”
Stolt strode to the door and entered the small room, his muscles tense and eyes wary. It would be a perfect trap and the lower decks would make a killing if they ransomed him. At least that’s what Stolt wanted to believe. Deep inside he wondered if Master Alexis would even pay a single credit for his hide. Despite being cousins, their alliance was shaky at best.
“Sit,” the hooded man said. “There.”
“In the chair?” Stolt sneered. “What an amazing idea. And who would have thought the leader of the lower decks rebellion could be so creative.”
“Sarcasm is not your strong suit, steward,” the man replied as he removed his hood to reveal a handsome, youthful face. A mass of red hair poofed out from his head and he smoothed it down as best he could with his hands. “Stick with the threats, they sound more authentic.”
“You called me here,” Stolt glared. “Now what do you want?”
“More funds,” the man replied. “And weapons. I hear there’s a new sling being talked about on the surface. Tell me about it.”
“It’s nothing,” Stolt said. “Some idiot deck boss from one of my sectors believes he has created the best thing since our ancestors realized they could throw rocks to kill each other.”
“Never underestimate the power of a good rock,” the man laughed. “I learned that on Aelon Prime.”
“Right, you were a Vape miner once, weren’t you?” Stolt said. “Any nasty scars to show for it?”
“More than you have time to see,” the man said. “Tell me about the weapon.”
“It’s nothing, I tell you,” Stolt insisted. “And besides, I’ve made sure my agents squashed any chance of its production. The monarchy will not have access to any other weapons than you do.”
“That’s the problem, steward,” the man said. “We don’t have access to weapons. Unless you count monkey wrenches and bolt hammers. My men need blades. We need slings and flechettes. We need real arms if we are going to be able to truly fight.”
The man started to pace the room, his eyes never leaving Stolt’s.
“Do you have access to a weaponsmith?” the man asked.
“I do, of course,” Stolt replied. “I have a stable of them in each sector. When the station goes to war, the monarchy looks to me to outfit them.”
“You mean the monarchy looked to your father,” the man said. “You have yet to prove yourself with anything.”
“Then I’ll prove myself by getting you what you need,” Stolt said. “With a price, of course.”
“We can pay,” the man said. “There are others in places of power that have the same goals as the lower decks. Well, they think they do. You’re the only one that really knows our aim.”
“Complete independence,” Stolt sighed. “I know your pipe dream.”
“It’s not a dream,” the man said cooly. “You would be wise to believe that.”
He pulled a long roll of paper from his cloak and handed it to the steward.
“I need a hundred of those as soon as possible,” the man stated. “Plus regular long blades, short blades, slings and mounds of flechette cartridges. If this is going to be a war then I need war supplies.”
Stolt unrolled the paper and looked at the schematics before him. He shook his head and his eyes went wide.
“Do you know how much a blade like this will weigh?” he asked, shocked at the listed specs on the paper. “How can someone wield this? It would take two hands and even then I doubt it would be effective.”
“How heavy do you think a rotational torque wrench is? Or a span driver?” the man laughed. “That in your hands is nothing. Just like the real blades that will come from those plans will weigh nothing to us. We’ve been preparing for this for centuries. Now it is our time.”
“You mean it is your time,” Stolt said as he rolled up the paper. “But this isn’t just about you, is it? This is about you regaining some lost glory you believe your family possessed generations ago.”
Stolt stood and tucked the roll inside his own cloak he had wrapped about his tunic. He shook his head as he walked to the door.
“Be careful, Lucas Langley,” Stolt said at the door. “Most of the time staying in the shadows is better than being in the light.”
“Says the man that lives on the Surface,” Lucas Langley replied. “I’m sick of the shadows.”
Act II—A Rebellion Halted
“T
he reign of Alexis I of Station Aelon has been studied for centuries. The vision, the fortitude, the eventual decline, and most of all, the black mark that was the lower decks rebellion. It could have been a reign that surpassed all others before it, but in the end, it comes down to a hurt and angry monarch versus the voice of a people. A sad tale told many times over.”
—Dr. D. Reven, Eighty-Third Archivist of The Way
“I don’t know what they talk about up on the surface of Station Aelon, but down here, in the lower decks, we talk about being equal. We talk about getting a better life for our children and grandchildren. We talk about being more than just cogs in the nobility’s machine. We talk about everything. And that talk is what frightens them the most.”
—Lucas Langley, Liberty Tapes (unabridged)
“When your enemy comes to you, do not hesitate. They are not there for you; they are not there to support your position. Strike first, strike hard, and let Helios know you will not waver in righteousness.”
—Book of the Lesson 21:4, The Ledger
“He was a stupid gnat that had to be crushed. My father did what was right and what was just. You can’t have blights like that on Station Aelon. That blight spreads and then all that is beautiful is ruined. I abhor the ruination of beauty.”
—Journals of Alexis II, Master of Aelon Station
Chapter Four
“My whole damn life is babies!” Esther shouted as she set her infant brother down on the bed, a fresh diaper over her shoulder and a soiled one waiting for her. “I’ll never marry and have children! Why would I need to?”
“Hush now,” Eliza scolded as she hurried around the royal quarters, looking for a shoe here, an errant sock there, all in order to get the family prepared for the day’s festivities. “You’re scaring Alexis.”
“Oh, I am not,” Esther grumbled. “Look at the little turd. He’s the happiest baby I’ve ever seen.”
“You said turd,” James laughed, his four year old finger up his four year old nose.
“Stop that!” Bora scolded, her hand slapping her little brother’s finger right from his nostril. “Haley! Why aren’t you watching James?”
“She’s using the bathroom,” Eliza sighed. “Let her pee in peace.”
“She’s not using the bathroom,” Thomas said. “She’s in the closet reading.”
“She’s what?” Eliza snapped. “We are going to be late for the procession and she’s reading?”
“Better than changing diapers,” Esther responded. “I’m serious, Mother. I am not getting married and I am not having children.”
“You say that now, but give it a couple of years and you’ll change your mind,” Eliza said.
“You were already married when you were my age, Mother,” Esther replied.
“I had just gotten married at thirteen,” Eliza said.
“Then had me four years later,” Esther said. “You want me to start having babies at seventeen? Is that what you mean by give it a couple of years?”
“No, Esther Teirmont, I do not want you to start having babies at seventeen,” Eliza replied. “I want you to live your life and be happy, any way you want. But right now? Your life is mine and that means changing Alexis’s diaper.”
“Why does he get to be Alexis?” Thomas asked. “I was the first born son, why didn’t I get named after Father?”
“Because you were named after your great, great, great grandfather,” Eliza said. “He was a Master of Station Aelon like no other. His wife, Mistress Imelda, was known as the Lady of the Breen because of her father’s holdings she brought with her.”
“Those were the Thraen holdings Father went to fight for when I was little, right?” Thomas asked. “That led to the Treaty of the Primes.”
“It was much more complicated than that,” Eliza said, finding a half eaten sandwich behind a throw pillow on one of the couches. “Really?”
“I leave it there in case I get hungry,” James said, running forward to take the sandwich from his mother. “It’s my four o’clock sandwich.”
“Sweet Helios,” Eliza sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for a nurse or two right now.”
“We’d have one if Father could defeat that nasty lowdecker,” Esther smirked. “But even a good job isn’t enough to fight Lucas Langley’s song of liberty. Ha!”
“Don’t mock your people, Esther,” Eliza scolded. “Whether they disagree with you, refuse to work for you, foment rebellion against you, or talk of murdering you, they are still your people. You learn to understand them, and if possible, forgive them.”
“For raising arms against the nobility and royalty?” Esther laughed. “They should all be ejected into space so they can float towards Helios and burn up as they plummet to the planet.”
Eliza shook her head and frowned at her eldest child.
“I’m glad I get to rule Station Aelon next and not her,” Thomas said. “She’d throw me into space for just going into her room without asking.”
“Then don’t go into my room without asking!” Esther shouted. “You little snot!”
The baby on the bed began to whimper then cry at Esther’s outburst.
“Esther, please,” Eliza groaned. “Can’t you try to be agreeable today? Just one day and then you can go back to your moody self.”
“I’m moody? Father’s the moody one,” Esther replied as she was pushed out of the way by her mother.
“That’s because he has been fighting a rebellion for seven years now,” Eliza replied as she double checked her daughter’s work then picked up her swaddled infant son. “Try ruling a station when a quarter of the passengers want to secede from your rule. See how your mood is then.”
“I’d love to see that,” Esther grinned. “But I’m a woman and can’t rule.”
“You’re a girl and can’t rule,” Minoress Melinda said as she came into the room. “And a good thing since I haven’t heard once of a successful reign by a spoiled brat.”
Esther stood there, her mouth open, and just gaped at her aunt.
“What?” Melinda asked, looking over at Eliza and giving her a wink. “You think you aren’t a spoiled brat? Try visiting the lower decks. Then you’ll see just how good you have it. And trust me, from one that watched her younger brother take the crown, ruling isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Better Alexis than me any day. I certainly don’t need white hair at the age of thirty.”
“Do you mind?” Eliza asked as she held out Alexis to her sister-in-law. “I have to pee again.”
“You aren’t pregnant, are you?” Melinda smirked.
“Helios no!” Eliza exclaimed. “Just under the weather. Can’t stop peeing and my back hurts.”
“Uh-oh,” Melinda frowned. “Sounds like a urinary tract infection. Better have a physician check you over. If it gets into your kidneys then you could be in trouble.” She shooed the mistress away. “Go pee, woman. We have to be leaving soon.”
“Yuck,” Esther grimaced. “I don’t need to hear this.”
“It’s because of the rotational gravity drive slowing down,” Thomas said. “My friend, Bibby, says that the lowdeckers have slowed down the station’s spin and now people are getting sick and going mad.”
“The station’s rotational gravity has not been changed,” Melinda said. “That’s just fearmongering. Your friend Bibby is an idiot and you shouldn’t listen to him.”
“Her,” Thomas replied.
“You shouldn’t listen to her then,” Melinda said. “Open a book, child. You’ll see that the rotational gravity drive has two settings: working and not working. If it stopped working then we’d all be floating on the ceiling. Are we floating?”
“No,” Thomas said. “But that would be fun.”
“Yeah,” James nodded, his finger back in his nose. “That would be fun.”
Melinda rocked Alexis back and forth in her arms and cooed at him then looked over at her niece.
“What’s up your gully?” Melinda asked.
“Auntie!�
�� Esther blushed at the slang term for her privates. “Not around the little ones!”
“Like they haven’t heard worse from your father or your mother,” Melinda laughed. “Or from you, either, minoress. I’ve heard you curse like a Vape miner plenty of times.”
“Ahhh, better,” Eliza smiled as she came back from the bathroom then looked at her second youngest son. “That finger is going to get stuck in there, you know. Think of all the horrible names the people will call you then.”
James’s eyes went wide and he yanked his finger out of his nose. “I don’t want to be called names.”
“Then act like you are supposed to,” Eliza said. She looked about the main room of the royal quarters and frowned. “Is Haley still in the closet? Haley!”
“I’m here,” Haley said, walking from her bedchamber, book in hand. “Can I bring this to the procession?”
“No, you may not,” Eliza said. “You won’t have any time to read. We’ll be shaking hands and curtseying to the nobility as well as the delegates from the lower decks.”
“I’m not curtseying, I’m bowing,” Thomas said.
“Not with a girl face like that,” Esther said and smacked him on the back of the head.
“Knock it off!” Eliza roared and everyone in the room froze in place. “Be good! Just for today, you need to be good!”
A loud chime sounded and Melinda handed the baby Alexis to Eliza. “Here. This one hasn’t spoiled yet. I’ll make sure the brood is herded along behind you. You just keep eyes forward, head up, back straight, and look like the great mistress that you are.”
Alexis burped and a wad of curdled milk spewed across Eliza’s formal tunic and shawl.
“Oh, for Helios’s sake,” Eliza said, her eyes filling with tears. “I pray today is the end of this conflict. I need a nurse back so badly.”
“We all need our servants back,” Melinda said, taking the baby from Eliza once again as the mistress stripped off her tunic and hurried into her bedchamber. “Won’t stop this one from puking though.”