by D. D. Chant
Submission was the word.
Servitude was another.
“It wasn’t your choice to work as Councillor Ladron’s subsidiary was it, Astra?” he asked finally.
“No, I was selected for the honour,” she replied promptly.
Ben nodded. He felt pity for her, but she didn’t seem to have any remorse. Not that she showed anyway.
“Who is she, Astra?”
The quietness of his voice along with the change of topic caused her to look up meeting his eyes.
“Who is who?”
“Leda.”
Astra continued to stare at him for a few moments before she spoke.
“Someone that I know.”
Ben chuckled.
“We’ve already ascertained that.”
Astra continued to stare at him, but her gaze gave nothing away.
“Have you finished, Mr. Burton?” she asked eventually.
“With the food, yes.” Ben caught her eye. “With you, no.”
The words were not flirtatious, but held a mild threat. It had no discernible effect on Astra, but Ben hadn't really expected it to. She had just confirmed another of his suspicions: Astra Uel Ne Toban was used to being threatened.
“Then shall we continue with our tour?”
She stood waiting for him to follow suit, and after a moment he did.
“I think I've seen enough of your library.”
He saw Astra suppress what might have been a smile.
“I see. Perhaps a museum then?”
Ben rather thought that Astra was trying to punish him, but if she was she had chosen the wrong weapon.
Ben wandered through the museum in a state of wonder drinking in the information that Astra fluently explained. Her knowledge of the subject matter was truly incredible. It was about an hour after their arrival she asked the question that Ben suspected had perplexed her from the start.
“I had thought that you would have found this familiar; is our history so very different to yours?”
Ben shook his head.
“I don’t know, but probably not.”
“Then have you not visited your own museums?” asked Astra.
“We don’t have any, at least not yet,” returned Ben.
Astra looked shocked, and Ben suddenly found himself defending his own people.
“Look, it was different for us. The split between the Tula and the Una was achieved with relative peace. Even now, as I understand it, there is only fighting on the borderlands.”
Astra nodded, verifying the truth of this statement.
“When war broke out in our land everywhere was a battlefield, nowhere was safe.”
Ben sat down on one of the benches, and locked his hands together between his knees.
“I’ve often thought your people were very fortunate. Your war left the past, your heritage, intact.” Ben looked at the artefacts across from him. “We lost everything.”
Astra sat beside him.
“Everything?”
“Everything,” nodded Ben. “Buildings, artefacts, museums... everything.”
They sat in silence for some time following this interchange before Ben began to feel awkward over his outburst, and the pain it had openly displayed to Astra. He shifted on the seat, rubbing his open palms down his trouser legs.
“How come you know so much about this stuff anyway?”
Astra’s eyes were focused on the highly polished granite floor.
“My people believe that much can be learnt from the past. King Solomon once wrote ‘there is nothing new under the sun’.”
Ben waited for her to elaborate, but she remained silent.
“What does that mean?”
Astra tilted her head to one side gazing out into the room with unfocused eyes.
“It means that all mistakes, every scheme and idea, have been made many times over in the past. Therefore there is nothing new because, when you get to the root of it, every impulse of man is as old as time itself.”
Astra paused momentarily, and then continued in a soft voice.
“That is why my people believe there is much to learn from the past.”
Ben nodded and then frowned.
“That doesn’t strike me as very Tula,” he observed before grinning. “I suppose you guys must have hidden depths.”
Astra flinched, and became very still. Ben was surprised by the tension that filled the air about them.
Finally she stood.
“Perhaps you would like to continue with the tour now?”
Her voice was toneless and heavy. Ben agreed, and got to his feet wondering what he’d said to put up her guard again. He seemed to find some new secret every place he turned, yet no explanations.
Perhaps it was time to use a less subtle approach.
Chapter Eight
When Ben returned to his room it was to find his father had been back from his excursion around the Tula medical research unit for some time.
“It was incredible, Ben, like nothing you could imagine! The lives that could be saved…” Senator Burton’s voice trailed off and Ben, in the middle of the intricate process of tying his bow tie, turned to see why his father had stopped talking.
Senator Burton was leaning against the port, his eyes down cast. It only took Ben a moment to realise that his father was thinking of Lana, Ben’s mother and Senator Burton’s late wife. Ben swallowed jerkily, unsure what to say. Hurredly he turned back to the mirror and his tie. After a few moments the tie was so hopelessly tangled that he had to start again.
“Can you guess where I went today?” he asked, wincing a little at his overly enthusiastic tone.
“Where? What have you been up too?” queried his father.
“Astra took me to a Museum! Can you believe it?”
Senator Burton smiled faintly.
“Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Sure but…” Ben met his father’s eyes in the mirror. “I think she might be a robot! I'm not kidding: that girl knows everything. Are we sure they haven’t invented A.I.?”
“As a matter of fact, they have,” responded his father, “but they are only in charge of the most menial tasks.”
Ben turned, his hands frozen in their task and a speculative gleam in his eyes.
“Then do you think…?”
Senator Burton shook his head slightly and Ben stopped immediately, realising that they could be watched.
“Would explain some things,” he laughed. “I think I tried every line in the book, but she is one tough cookie!”
Ben finished with his tie, and slipped on his tuxedo jacket before turning to face his father. Senator Burton levered himself upright, and straightened his son’s slightly askew necktie.
“Then use a sledge hammer, Ben.”
------
Ben recalled his father’s last statement when he found himself seated next to Astra at one of the banquet tables. It was all very well to suggest a sledgehammer approach, but that was slightly difficult when surrounded by the Tula High Council.
The dinner took place in the elegant surroundings of a ballroom, yet another space made entirely of glass.
It made Ben feel like a goldfish. The walls were frosted and etched, and the floor was the highly polished black Granite that the Tula seemed to have such a fondness for. The people were dressed in either black or white with the women wearing chunky silver jewellery. Astra wore a white one shouldered sheath that had gold embroidery around the hem. For the first time Ben saw clearly the two wide gold bangles around each wrist.
Gold.
Not silver.
Gold.
Ben was still frowning over why this struck him as so important after the table had been cleared and couples had taken to the floor. Why was Astra allowed to flaunt convention? It wasn’t as though everyone had woken up and decided that they wanted to live out the rest of their lives in monochrome. It had been imposed on them, so why was Astra exempt?
He was pretty sure that Astra was i
n her current position through no desire of her own. In company she was ignored or treated like some sort of slave. For some reason it bothered him that she never ate or drank with them, apart from that one glass of water when she was alone with him at the restaurant. Her reaction to threats was calm acceptance instead of shock or fear, which suggested to him that threats were something she was used too. Yet she was allowed, by her appearance, to rebel.
Why?
Why did Councillor Ladron let her get away with it?
Ben caught sight of another person approaching the table where he sat with the councillors. Greetings were exchanged, but Ben noticed that they didn’t extend to Astra. It had happened so many times over the last few hours. Why was Astra so completely ignored? It wasn't studious or pointed. It was just… normal, as though Astra was invisible.
Ben decided he’d had enough. He stood, holding out a hand to an oblivious Astra.
“Would you like to dance?”
She looked up, shocked.
“Forgive me, Mr. Burton, but I don’t think that would be appropriate.”
It was a reply she’d often used on him, and he had never pushed her further. This time he wanted to press harder, he wanted to force her out of her comfort zone, to surprise her into saying something she normally wouldn’t.
“Why not?” The question was bold and hung on the air like a challenge.
Silence stretched out but still no one said anything. Ben was conscious of Councillor Ladron’s anger, but realised it was directed at him not Astra. This time it didn’t bother him. He was tired of being in the dark, sick of walking on eggshells for these people.
Why were they so upset and angry?
What was so wrong with him asking Astra to dance?
Still no one said anything, and Ben remained standing with his hand stretched out toward Astra. If they thought he was going to back down they were about to find out how very thick skinned the Burtons could be!
“Perhaps Councillor Ladron might be brought to intercede on your behalf, Ben,” remarked Senator Burton calmly.
Ben saw a sharp light enter Corbani Va Dic Ladron’s eyes, but there was little he could do other than agree with the Senator.
“Certainly you should dance, Astra.” He smiled and Ben had to repress a shudder. “I can’t think why you would suppose it to be improper.”
Astra rose gracefully, and bowed to the councillors. She passed Ben without acknowledging the hand he still held out toward her.
It caused a stir when he took her into his arms on the dance floor, but by then Ben had expected it would. The couples stilled their perambulations, and looked toward the councillors for guidance. Whatever they saw reassured them, and they began to dance again, but Ben noticed that no one came too close. Astra kept her eyes firmly fixed on his bow tie, her face devoid of expression.
“Smile, babe, or everyone will think I forced you to dance with me!”
Astra didn’t answer him immediately.
“You like to make trouble, Mr. Burton. You seem to gain amusement in disturbing the hornet’s nest.”
Ben laughed.
“I guess I do.”
“I do not.”
Her eyes met his and Ben was surprised by the heat of her anger.
“Perhaps if someone told me what was going on I wouldn’t need to kick the hornet’s nest to life.” He leaned his head to one side. “Maybe I’d leave the hornet’s nest alone completely.”
Astra gazed at him coldly for a few moments before speaking again.
“I am aware that you think yourself very clever, Mr. Burton, but take the advice of one who does not yet wish your death. Forget about that skeleton in the cupboard.”
The music stopped, and Astra pulled herself from his arms. He watched as she began to make her way back to the table, remembering back to the first day that he and his father had spent in the Tula Strongholds. Ben clearly remembered observing that in Astra they had found their first skeleton.
It clarified one thing: Councillor Ladron had them under surveillance.
The only question was, had Astra meant to give the information away?
To warn him off was to protect Councillor Ladron, yet to tell Ben that Councillor Ladron was watching them was to betray her superior.
Just whose side was she on?
Ben shook his head; he couldn’t decide yet.
“I thought you looked thirsty, Mr. Burton.”
Ben turned to find Councillor Sendel holding out a champagne flute toward him, and accepted it with a light hearted smile.
“How has Astra been treating you?” asked Councillor Sendel conversationally.
“With the length of her arm between us.”
Councillor Sendel chuckled softly.
“I'm not surprised. I hear she took you to the library?”
Ben turned to find Sendel smiling softly at him over his glass. He felt a prickle of unease work its way over his skin.
How did Councillor Sendel know what he and Astra had done during the day?
Ben tried to shake off his discomfort. After all; it had been no secret that he and Astra were to explore the city together.
“I guess she doesn’t like me much.” He watched Sendel take another sip of champagne. “By the way, congratulations: three terms is very impressive.”
Councillor Sendel appeared to have trouble swallowing, and Ben suddenly felt the older man’s sharp gaze upon him.
“Thank you,” He bowed, “but compared to Corbani’s five terms it is nothing to boast of.”
Ben nodded.
“I hear he had no opposition for the last three elections.”
Councillor Sender’s smile had a chilling undertone.
“Yes, he was only opposed during his two opening terms.” He paused significantly. “He won the first election of course.”
Ben knew what was expected of him, and turned to Councillor Sendel with the obvious question.
“What about the second election?”
Councillor Sendel smiled again, pleased to see that Ben knew how the game was played.
“It was a great tragedy. Meron Va Dic Padis was the opposition that year, but before the polls could take place he and his whole family died in a tradgic accident.” Sendel’s eyes met Ben’s. “Of course, after that, Corbani hasn’t been opposed since.”
Ben understood completely, and had to suppress a shiver. He had guessed that Councillor Ladron was ruthless, but having it confirmed made him feel sick.
“I dare say that Councillor Ladron fills his role so well that no one sees the need for change,” replied Ben evenly.
“Oh, Corbani is very good at keeping… things… in their proper place,” agreed Councillor Sendel. “A man would have to have friends in high places if he wished to oppose him.”
Ben met Sendel's gaze unflinchingly.
“Like Senators and their sons for instance?”
Sendel smiled.
“You think in such small terms, Mr. Burton: any highly placed friends would do.” He placed his hand on his heart, and inclined his head, but before he left he smiled again.
“I hope you enjoyed Jayn’s coffee, Mr. Burton.”
Ben clutched his champagne flute so tightly that the stem broke in his hand, and several shards pierced his palm.
It seemed that Councillor Ladron was not the only one of the councillors with an agenda. Councillor Sendel appeared to covet Corbani Va Dic Ladron’s position, and was hoping that the Free Nation would help him attain his ends.
Ben was fully aware that he had just been threatened. If there was one thing a Burton didn’t react well to it was threats, and he’d been in the receiving end of too many tonight.
“You’re bleeding.”
“What?”
The newcomer held out a napkin toward Ben.
“Your hand; it’s bleeding.”
Ben made no move to take the napkin from her, so after a small pause she took his hand between her own. Removing the flute from his grasp, she studied h
is palm carefully.
“I don’t think there is any glass in the wound,” she remarked, inspecting his hand closely before wrapping the napkin around his palm and tying the ends in a knot. “You should have it seen to though.”
Ben watched her hands as they folded the bandage neatly.
“Thank you, Leda.”
For a moment she stilled, and when Ben looked up it was to find her regarding him pensively.
“You have a good memory,” she remarked.
“Or maybe you’re just hard to forget,” replied Ben.
Leda raised an eyebrow, her expression unimpressed.
“Did you enjoy lunch with my sister?”
“Astra is your sister?”
Ben frowned, annoyed by the gauche betrayal of his feelings. The question had thrown him, shaking him out of his calm.
Leda nodded, pushing the dark curls flirting with her jaw line behind her ear.
“Actually she’s my stepsister.”
Ben studied the woman’s face, trying to decide how she felt about Astra. Leda had large eyes, amber, but with light green flecks, and fringed with long lashes. A sprinkling of freckles over her nose gave her an almost childlike sweetness. Her dress was black, and Ben thought that she was probably four or five inches taller than Astra.
Still there was something about her was reminiscent of Astra. Ben couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Almost everything about her was the opposite of her sister: her bold manner, her physical appearance, and athletic build.
“Why wouldn’t Astra introduce us at the restaurant?”
Leda shrugged.
“She was probably terrified that I would say something highly inappropriate, so she told me to get lost.”
“And would you have? Said something inappropriate, I mean?”
“Judging by our conversation so far, I would say her worry was entirely justified.”
Ben was silent for a moment.
“She didn’t want me to know you were her sister?”
Leda raised her glass to him in a silent toast.
“Seems like you’re not as stupid as you look.”
Ben was taken aback by the remark, but there had been no malice in her voice. She was just stating the facts as she saw them. He decided to let the insult pass.
“Why wouldn’t she want me to know you were her sister?”