I

by Jake Bible

  “The prime?” Esther gasped. “I’m a minoress! You want me to go and live amongst the miners and planet trash?”

  “There are some fine people down on Aelon Prime,” Alexis replied. “I spent many a summer riding skids across the scrim grass plains and boating on the royal cutters. You and your brother will love the relaxed life the prime can bring.”

  “And I am to be their nanny, is that it Alexis?” Melinda asked from her seat in the corner. Her own tea had grown cold, just like the look she gave her brother. “Babysit the next master and train up the minoress so she can be married off to one of the other stations? I should thank you, but I just can’t seem to find the words.”

  “Shaowshit!” Esther shouted. “How’s that for a word?”

  “It’ll do the job.” Melinda frowned.

  “You two seem to believe this is a debate,” Alexis said.

  “No, dear brother, I have no illusions to that end,” Melinda said. “I know your feelings on the standing of women on Station Aelon. Perhaps when I am in charge of the estate on Aelon Prime I can implement my feelings on the subject. Far away from the prying eyes of our benevolent master.”

  “Don’t try me, Sister,” Alexis grumbled. He barely dodged the teacup as it flew at his head. “Melinda!”

  “You and me!” Melinda roared as she stood up and charged the master. “That is all that is left of our family!”

  Alexis stood to meet her and the minoress slowed when she saw the rage upon his face. He was an imposing figure and even her fury couldn’t dampen the fear he instilled as he towered over her.

  “And now there is just myself and my brother,” Esther said, placing a gentle hand on Melinda’s shoulder. “Auntie? Father has made a decision and it is our duty, not just as women of the family, but as loyal subjects to the crown, that we obey that decision.” She turned and smiled up at her father. “When does the shuttle leave?”

  “First thing in the morning,” Alexis said. “It is short notice, but it is the only window you have. The next few weeks of orbital synchronization and planetary access are taken up with shipments to and from The Way Prime. It is either tomorrow or three months from now. I prefer it happen immediately.”

  “Of course,” Esther nodded then curtsied. “I will prepare my things.”

  “Your servants are packing as we speak,” Alexis said then looked at his sister. “As are yours.”

  “Eliza would be furious with you,” Melinda spat. The sudden slap from her brother rocked her head back and blood came away as she wiped her mouth. “You are lost.”

  “I am master,” Alexis said and sat down. “It’s the same thing.”

  Act III—A New Life, A Sudden Death

  “The primes now are nothing as they were during the times of the Reign of Four. None, not even Thraen Prime, had even the inklings of the bustling, domed metropolises that stand on the planet now. They were wild and free, frontiers that had yet to be conquered fully. They were, to use a form of their very names, primitive. This is what shaped a master and started Station Aelon on a course that would span many generations and see bloodshed like the System had never witnessed before.”

  —Dr. D. Reven, Eighty-Third Archivist of The Way

  “When your cousin does offend thee, then smite him down, for he should know his place. When your enemy does offend thee, then bring him close, for he should have a place. When you offend thyself, then look to Helios, for the Dear Parent will always know your place.”

  —Chants 3:25, The Ledger

  “We cannot escape our history. Why try? As a master, I look to the future, but learn from the past. Just as masters and mistresses that come later will look back at my reign. What will they see? I cannot speak for them; only act now and speak for myself. Just as my great grandfather did in his time.”

  —Journals of Alexis IV, Master of Station Aelon

  Chapter Seven

  The master tugged at the bottom of the doublet, his face scrunched up in frustration as the new garment insisted on riding up around his soft belly.

  “Why must we conform with these ridiculous fashions?” Alexis growled to Steward Stolt as the two men waited to be announced. “What charter did we sign that said Station Thraen dictates the clothing trends of the System?”

  He pulled and pulled at the doublet, his anger rising higher and higher with every tug.

  “And did we not send my dimensions to their tailor?” Alexis snapped. “If so then this blasted thing must have shrunk during shipment!”

  “I understand your frustration, your highness,” Stolt said as he resisted the same urge to worry at the hem of his own doublet, a new style of garment many of the various stations’ nobility had begun wearing the previous season. “But we are here to keep friends and find you a new match. Not to have worn our gifts would be a massive insult to Master Paul.”

  Stolt looked about and made sure they were not being eavesdropped on.

  “And my sources have confirmed what we have all heard,” Stolt grinned. “That Paul the Fair has expanded considerably over the years. Not just in his famed cruelty, but in his girth as well.”

  “Has he really?” Alexis smiled, not feeling so self-conscious about the extra fifteen pounds he had put on since last seeing the monarch of Station Thraen. “Perhaps the sizing of this thing was on purpose?”

  “So we all look to have ill-fitting clothing and a little extra around the middle?” Stolt smirked. “Sire, would a master stoop so low just to satisfy his ego?”

  “No, never,” Alexis laughed as they stepped up to the entrance of Station Thraen’s great hall.

  “Master of Station Aelon, Alexis the First!” the porter announced. “Accompanied by Steward Stolt of Sectors Kirke, Shem, Maelphy, Bueke, Gormand, and Trint on Station Aelon.”

  There was a large round of applause as Alexis bowed low, showing that even at the age of forty-two he could still exhibit grace. He straightened up and strode with purpose down the middle of the hall towards where Master of Station Thraen, Paul IV sat with his third wife, Carmnella.

  “Your majesty,” Alexis said as he bowed again. “It is an honor to be invited to your son’s Blessing Day.”

  “I must wonder why you decided to attend this one, Master Alexis,” Paul said, his cruel eyes hovering over a broad, empty smile. A smile nearly hidden in folds of indulgent fat. The master shook his head and his heavily jowled neck became an earthquake of flesh. “I have four other sons, all who had Blessing Days before this. Not to mention that you couldn’t join me during my coronation either.”

  Alexis looked up from his bow at the master then turned his gaze to Mistress Carmnella.

  “Nor did I attend your three weddings,” Alexis said as he stood straight. “But if I had known the mistress would be this beautiful I would have dropped all matters of station and flown a shuttle here myself.”

  The mistress blushed and ducked her head. Alexis couldn’t help but notice that her movements were away from Paul and not towards him. The master had to wonder what cruelties the woman suffered at the hands of her husband. He’d seen similar behavior in his grandmother when his grandfather’s ire was up.

  “Master Alexis had wanted to attend every single occasion, your highness,” Stolt said as he moved in to smooth some of the tension. “But the life of a master is beyond complex and busy, a fact you are well acquainted with. Which is why we missed you at the funerals of Alexis’s wife and children those many years ago.”

  “Or the wedding of my daughter Esther to Zaik, Minor of Klaerv, just last year,” Alexis said. “We masters are so, so busy.”

  “Ah, yes, do give my regards to the minoress on her nuptials,” Paul said. “Landing the heir to the crown of Station Klaerv? What an honor. I’ve always thought of Station Klaerv as such a quaint monarchy, living so close in the shadow of the much larger Station of Ploerv.”

  A few of the Thraenish attendants hid snickers behind gloved hands and Paul feigned anger and disgust instantly.

  “I a
pologize for my court’s reaction,” Paul said. “You know how Thraen can be. We are just too prideful for decorum sometimes.” Paul leaned forward. “But I am sure you know of what I speak since your late wife was Ploervian. She must have known all about the inadequacies of Station Klaerv. I am willing to bet she would have objected to such a union if she had been alive.”

  There was an audible hush from those within hearing distance. Even the snickers went quiet at that statement.

  “Which is one of the reasons Master Alexis is here with you today,” Stolt said, hoping to head his master off before the Teirmont anger could raise its head. “Master Alexis has decided that the royal crown needs a partner once again.” He turned and spread his arms wide, taking in the entire hall, then looked over his shoulder and beamed at Master Paul. “And where else could my master hope to find a more pleasing sampling of royalty and good breeding? The court of Station Thraen has always been known for its standards when it comes to those who are considered the most noble of nobility.”

  “Which is why we like to include even the Aelish,” Paul laughed. “To balance out the beauty!” He raised his hands high then slapped his thighs with a force that made the fat on his legs jiggle and roll. “I kid! A grand joke for such a grand guest! I hope you take no offense to my humorous ways, Master Alexis. We masters rarely get to jest back and forth.”

  “If I take offense at your words, Master Paul, you will be the first to know it,” Alexis replied.

  Stolt looked from one monarch to the other, his eyes trying to gauge the tenor of their moods. He had informed the shuttle crew to be on standby in case a hasty exit needed to be made.

  “Well, hello there, Master Alexis,” a woman in her late twenties said as she walked up to the royal party. “Such a pleasure to see you again. Time has been very, very kind to you.”

  The woman wore a wide, flowing dress of delicate breen thread like nothing Alexis had seen. Almost iridescent in color, shining bright blue then green then yellow all in a single blink, the woman drew every eye in the hall to her. Her auburn hair was pulled up into a tight bun that was studded with sparkling jewels from Thraen Prime. The woman’s brown eyes watched Alexis closely and waited for his response.

  “I...I am sorry, my lady,” Alexis replied. “I am not sure we have had the pleasure.”

  “Oh, we have had the pleasure,” the woman laughed. “You had the pleasure of meeting me when I was but eight years old. I had the pleasure of you saving my life. Although, I have to admit it was sort of your fault I fell prey to that attack that day since it was intended for you.”

  Alexis studied the woman’s face, noting every curve and angle, dimple and ridge. He puzzled for several seconds as the woman waited patiently.

  “Meredith?” he asked at last.

  The woman curtseyed, but did not lower her eyes. “At your service, sire.”

  “My, how you have matured,” Alexis said. “Of course I knew you would be beautiful one day, but I had no idea just how beautiful. It is always a pleasure to see one’s expectations exceeded. Your husband must be full of pride.”

  “If she would take one,” Master Paul snapped. “But somehow she has will to match her beauty. Don’t you, dearest of sisters?”

  “I’m sorry, but I am confused,” Alexis said, looking from Paul to Meredith and then to Stolt. “I was under the impression you had married Steward Gramblitt of Station Haelm. Was that not part of your terms of treaty?”

  “It was,” Paul said, his voice cold. “But dearest sister here decided it was not a match for her. Thraen was lucky we were not plunged back into war, but Steward Gramblitt happily accepted the hand of my sister, Edwina. She is not as fair as Meredith, but she is younger by a decade and much more suited to producing heirs to those vast estates Gramblitt holds on Station Haelm as well as Haelm Prime.”

  “He smelled of gully fish and honey wasp liquor,” Meredith said as she leaned in close to Alexis so only he could hear. There were instant whispers at the improper familiarity she took with the master, but she ignored them and instead looked up into Alexis’s blue eyes. “I believe I deserve more than a steward who doesn’t understand the meaning of proper oral hygiene.”

  “I believe so as well, my lady,” Alexis said as he took the minoress’s hand and kissed it gently. “It would be a crime to have a woman such as you clouded in a miasma of Haelmish stench.”

  Stolt cleared his throat and nudged the master. “The Haelm delegation is directly behind us, sire.”

  “Good,” Alexis said. “Then they can witness how a woman such as this deserves nothing less than the highest royal honor, not another greedy steward looking to elevate his position within his station.”

  Stolt looked back at the stricken and angry faces of the Haelmish royals and tried to give them a reassuring smile.

  “Master Paul, with your permission, I would be honored if your dearest sister would sit with me this evening during the feast,” Alexis said, Meredith’s hand still held within his own. “Unless you find objection to my attempt to make up for my previous royal neglect?”

  Paul and Alexis stared at each other as only two monarchs could until finally Paul broke the gaze and waved his hand.

  “Please do, Master Alexis,” Master Paul said. “It would honor me if you would entertain my sister for the evening. I do warn you that she can be a handful.”

  “I am counting on it,” Alexis said and turned quickly, leading Meredith away from her corpulent brother.

  Stolt was left standing there with his mouth agape, trapped between an irritated Thraen master and an irate delegation of Haelmish royals.

  “I, uh, well…” Stolt stuttered. He bowed low when he couldn’t find words.

  “Begone, steward,” Master Paul said. “I will fetch you when I am ready to discuss business.”

  “Yes, your highness! Thank you, your highness!” Stolt said and hurried away as fast as he could to find his seat.

  * * *

  The two royals watched as the other nobility and members of station proceeded to attempt the steps of the newest dance.

  The women twirled about, having pinned bright blue ribbons to their dresses, while the men stood stock still, nodding in time to the drumbeat. The melody of the song seemed to repeat itself over and over and over until it came to an abrupt halt and the men fell to their knees, hands out in supplication. The women mock-tittered, then turned and hopped to the center of the hall.

  “Can a dance make one sick to one’s stomach even if one is not participating?” Meredith mused. “I may need to fetch a porter and relieve my distress with some mid-course regurgitation.” She turned her head and appraised Alexis. “Unless your highness enjoys this sort of thing. Then I apologize fully.”

  “I do not,” Alexis replied. “My interest in forced gaiety left me several years ago.”

  “About the time your wife passed, I would suspect,” Meredith said.

  It was Alexis’s turn for appraisal and he studied Meredith’s face, looking for the smirk, for the sneer. But she only raised her eyebrows at the master then lifted her glass.

  “I hate to waste time on the important matters,” Meredith said. “Your love for your wife was legend. I have to know if it still burns or if there is room for another fire in your life.”

  “Legend?” Alexis asked. “When was my love for Eliza legend?”

  “Oh, please, Alexis,” Meredith said, going straight for the informal. “Bards have written songs about it for over a decade now. Maidens spend nights listening to the words, wishing they had what you had, while exploring their baser selves.”

  “Is that so?” Alexis smiled. “I never knew.” He lifted his own glass and clinked it against Meredith’s. “Were you one of those maidens that explored the baser self while listening to a fool’s romantic notions?”

  “Perhaps,” Meredith said as her free hand found the top of his thigh under the table. “But I have never needed a prompt or excuse for such actions.” She grinned and took a long drin
k from her glass then tapped it on the table so a servant could refill it. “Nor would I consider those actions base. I’ve always thought I possess a certain skill that elevates me above other women.”

  The servant’s eyes went wide and he hurried off as soon as the glass was full.

  “It’s good to see you are just as shy now as when I first met you,” Alexis laughed as his hand found hers and gave it a squeeze. “I would have hated for you to lose your innocence and tact.”

  “Tact is for the passengers,” Meredith replied. “What’s the point of putting up with all the shaowshit of being a royal if you have to be restrained by tact? If I have learned anything from my brother, it is that royals and tact need not be bedfellows.”

  “Then who should be bedfellows?” Alexis asked then turned to look across the hall before she could answer. “Perhaps that man and that woman there?”

  “Sector Warden LeFlique and Madame Guntheest?” Meredith laughed. “It would take that man an hour just to find his own cock, let alone her jenny.”

  “Jenny? Is that what Thraens call it?” Alexis grinned. “Interesting…”

  “Those two. See? Now they would be well matched bedfellows,” Meredith pointed to a table where a diminutive man and a grossly obese woman sat, each looking in opposite directions. “The sexual tension is almost too much to bear.”

  “She’d crush him!” Alexis guffawed.

  “Then he would be wise to think through his approach,” Meredith nodded. “Perhaps a rear assault would work best?”

  Alexis just shook his head as he tried not to choke on a sip of brandy. Meredith politely patted him on the back until he had himself under control.

  “Oh, dear, I almost killed the Master of Station Aelon with crude humor,” Meredith said. “Who knew I was so deadly?” She looked into his empty glass. “Another?”

  “Oh, at least,” Alexis said as he held his glass up and it was instantly refilled. “Leave the bottle.”