by Amy DuBoff
Wil scowled. “I figured you’d say that.”
Jason raised an eyebrow and leaned forward slightly. “Were you just looking for someone to agree with you?”
His father cracked a wan smile. “I’ve had to make some tough calls, many of which I’ve questioned for many years after the actions. Sometimes it’s nice to hear that others also feel it’s the right course, even when you already know it’s the best option. Fewer recriminations that way.”
“I could see that. So, let’s say completely independent secret training groups are the best way forward—there’s still the question of how to select the members.”
Wil inclined his head. “I’m afraid that also means breaking some of my other rules—most notably, playing a lot of favoritism with my friends.”
“Your first round Elite trainees?”
“Precisely. When I installed Ethan and Ian as division heads, a secondary function was to have trusted colleagues in place in the event some need like this arose in the future.”
Jason smiled. “You probably figured that’d be a little further out than a year after the promotion.”
Wil chuckled. “Stars! I stopped having any clear expectations about the future when I was younger than you. If I hadn’t gotten used to going with the flow by now, I would have lost my mind years ago.”
“Agility does have its perks.”
“Indeed it does.” Wil folded his hands on the desktop. “It’ll be easy enough to insert some more team leads in key positions at the start of this next term. I guess my main question for you right now is where you want to specialize.”
“I… hadn’t really thought about it,” Jason replied after several seconds. “I’d always thought of it as ‘weaponized telekinesis’ in a general sense. What are the options?”
“In broad strokes, offensive, defensive, and support,” Wil explained. “Within those classifications, there are several possibilities ranging from one-on-one engagements, use of small crafts, and teamwork using larger vessels. Or, there’s healing.”
“Regardless of the options, something tells me you already have something in mind for me.”
Wil smiled. “It’s almost like you’ve known me for your whole life, or something.”
Jason laughed. “Yeah, so weird…”
“But yes, I do have something in mind. The difficulty is that it’s something I swore to myself I’d never do.”
His father’s suddenly somber tone wiped the smile from Jason’s face. “Which is?”
“To tap into power on the scale that can protect—or destroy—a planet.”
Jason’s heart leaped. “What do you mean?”
Wil looked down. “I know before the field trip to the rift you went over the end of the war in your classes—and how the Bakzen’s main planet was broken apart.”
“Yeah, it must have been a hell of a firefight.”
“It was,” his father said, still keeping his gaze downcast, “but that’s not what destroyed the planet. I did.”
A chill gripped Jason’s chest. “What do you mean?”
“I focused a strong enough charge through the Conquest to implode the planet.”
The statement was too bold to possibly be true. Jason shook his head, dismissing the absurd claim. No one person could handle enough energy to destroy an entire planet.
“I’m serious, Jason. That’s why I’m not taking this lightly.”
“You’re talking about literally destroying a planet with raw telekinetic energy?”
Wil nodded, finally meeting Jason’s gaze. “Up until I did it, no one thought it was possible. But I know what it took, and I have a sense of your potential. I no longer think I’m the only person capable of feats of that magnitude.”
Jason’s chest felt like it was trapped in a vice. “Dad…”
“Now, I don’t think it will come to that. I just need you to understand that this is serious business—billions of lives may be in your hands one day.”
What can I possibly say to that? Jason searched for the right words. “I know I’m not ready to make those kinds of decisions, but I think with time, and the right guidance, I could.”
Wil nodded. “I’m glad to see you’re a little reluctant—I’d be concerned if you were overly eager to take that on.”
“You’d have to be insane to be excited about that. I might be a little crazy when it comes to some things, but I try to keep it in line.”
“I think that particular brand of crazy runs in the family.”
“Considering what Raena’s already signed up to do, I’m inclined to believe it’s genetic.”
The concern finally faded from Wil’s face. “Very true. I’ll leave the politicking to others.”
“Meanwhile, we’ll just be building a secret special ops force.”
“Yep.”
Jason grinned. “That sounds like way more fun, not gonna lie.”
Wil smiled back. “I hate to admit it, but part of me is a little excited by the prospect.”
“It does make sense,” Jason replied. “I mean, it’s unfinished business. I can’t imagine you felt a real sense of resolution after the war, knowing the Priesthood is still at large. After positioning to do something for twenty years, I think I’d be pretty excited to finally take out the bad guys.”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“Whoa! Maybe dial back that devious glint in your eyes a notch or two,” Jason said with a grin.
Wil laughed. “All right, you got me. But we’re going to get them.”
“Let’s get started.”
* * *
Ryan admired Raena asleep in bed next to him—watching the rise and fall of her exposed back, her flawless skin and refined features the very image of perfection. Even more than her external beauty was her brilliance and heart he’d first fallen in love with when they met.
He still couldn’t help feeling a sense of awe to be in the same room as her, let alone knowing that they were now bonded to each other. This incredible young woman—amazing in her own right, even without the credentials of her family—was one day going to be his wife.
Nothing about that prospect seemed real. Ryan still saw himself as the Ward he was in his youth, without family or anything to his name. For everything to have changed so dramatically in a year’s time was still too much to fully process. All he could do was trust in the love he shared with Raena and that they’d be able to navigate the upcoming challenges together.
My past showed me what needs to be different in my future. I’m no longer alone. He took a deep breath and slipped out of bed.
Raena stirred as he got up, but she quickly settled back into her quiet slumber.
Ryan pulled on pants, a t-shirt, and shoes before stepping out into the hallway. He didn’t have a particular destination in mind, but taking a walk outside in the fresh air sounded refreshing. There were too many thoughts churning through his mind and he needed to re-center himself.
The common areas of the estate were empty at the wee hour, and Ryan wandered slowly through the halls on his way out to the gardens. Even when viewed with only the dimmed nighttime lights and moonlight streaming through the windows, the details of the architecture spoke to the Sietinens’ wealth and level of opulence in their lifestyle. I wonder if it was like this for Dainetris before the fall?
He had no way of knowing, since all but the most public information about the Dynasty had been sealed. Cris mentioned that the eastern expanse of the Third Region used to be the Seventh Region, but no maps in the digital archives outlined that political boundary. It was frightening to think that so much information could be suppressed over the course of one hundred fifty years.
Directions to strike discussion of the Dynasty from the oral history, passed from parents to their children, took care of common knowledge, and the Priesthood’s complete control of the central data repositories ensured that digital records were scrubbed to paint whatever picture they desired. With that information altered and no on
e left alive to have experienced another political structure firsthand, for all intents and purposes there had never been a seventh High Dynasty. Ryan couldn’t help but wonder if people would even accept his claim, however valid it was.
No, they will… because Raena and I aren’t like the others. They’ll accept us because we’re as close to being one of them as anyone with this level of influence ever has been. His self-assurances offered temporary relief from his worries, but deep down he knew he wouldn’t feel confident until their task was complete.
Ryan wandered downstairs and was about to exit into the gardens when he heard light footsteps in the hall. He turned around and was surprised to see his former friend, Tony, about to enter into one of the many hidden servant passageways.
“Stars! Ryan?” Tony exclaimed in a whisper.
“Hey!” Ryan greeted with a smile. He kept his voice at just about a whisper, as well—he was confident any nearby bedrooms were soundproof, but the darkened surroundings called for hushed speech, it seemed.
“What are you doing back?” Tony asked. “I thought you joined the TSS?”
“I did. I mean, I’m still in the TSS,” Ryan tried to explain. “It’s complicated.”
Tony eyed him suspiciously. “Yeah, I’ll say. You’re a guest at the Sietinen estate as a TSS trainee? I know Cris Sietinen was TSS High Commander, but still…”
“He’s been very gracious welcoming me here.”
“Uh huh.” Tony crossed his arms and looked Ryan over. “C’mon, what’s up?”
Anything I tell him will be common knowledge by tomorrow afternoon. But they’ll see me with Raena… May as well control what story they tell. Ryan took a deep breath. “I’m here because when I joined the TSS, I found out who my father was.”
Tony cocked his head. “Really? Who was he?”
“It’s a little crazy.” Ryan tousled his hair. “He was the TSS High Commander before Cris. And, apparently, he was also a secondary heir to the Bankris Dynasty in the Second Region.”
“Whoa! So, you’re a dynastic heir?” Tony’s eyes were filled with disbelieve and envy.
“Yeah. Crazy, right?”
“I’ll say.” His friend shook his head.
“So, anyway, the Sietinen heiress, Raena, is here to get educated on Taran politics and be groomed to take over as Cris’ successor. Since I know nothing about being highborn, they decided to send me along, too, as a shadow—sort of an early TSS internship.”
Tony’s brow wrinkled. “I suppose that explains why that TSS Agent is with you.”
“Exactly.”
“Wow…” His friend took a step back toward the servant passageway. “Well, I guess you have your new highborn life to live now.”
“Tony, it’s not like that.”
“Really? Because it sounds like you’re keeping company with the Sietinen Dynasty heiress these days—and on a first name basis, no less.”
This is just like when I left before… he’ll find fault in everything I say just because it’s something he can never have for himself. It’s easier to keep me as the outsider. Ryan composed his reply, “Raena has been a good friend to me, and she’s going to make an excellent leader. She’s not like most highborn—she grew up on Earth living a normal life with regular people. Bringing that perspective will mean changes around here. Good changes.”
His friend brushed it off. “Yeah, whatever you say, my lord.”
“Seriously, Tony, finding out about someone’s birthright doesn’t change who they are as a person—I’m still the same guy who used to sneak cake from the dessert cart with you and who swapped the ringtone on Laura’s handheld.”
Tony finally cracked a smile. “That was a good one.”
“So, come on. Don’t assume I’m some stuck-up outsider now that I have a family crest. I’d like to think our friendship had more to it than just convenient proximity.”
“Yeah, you’re right…” Tony looked down.
“I know it’s weird, and I don’t expect us to be close like we used to be. I just want you to know that if we pass each other in the hall, you can—and should—say ‘hi’ to me like we’re old friends, because we are.”
“Okay, sure.”
Ryan smiled. “All right. Well, I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, see you.” Tony slipped into the servant passage and closed the door.
It was unlikely any of Ryan’s old friends would ever regard him like a personal acquaintance again, but at least he’d made an effort.
The conversation left him feeling even more restless than he had upon waking up, so he continued on his path out into the gardens.
Everything was quiet in the world outside. The moonlight cast the lush foliage in a blue glow, augmented occasionally by amber accent lighting lining the paths. Ryan ambled along the paved trail past a babbling fountain and down to one of the scenic overlooks above the city of Sieten below.
Unlike the residential wing of the estate, the city was alive even in the dead of night—responding to the ongoing needs of the Taran civilization. Sieten had it easier than some cities, being relatively close to the time zone of the Priesthood’s isle that set the clock observed as common time throughout the disparate worlds. Ryan wondered what it would have been like to grow up in a place where the accepted business hours were always in the middle of the night.
He brushed off the notion and all its ripple effects that would only serve to make his head hurt. Managing a civilization wasn’t his responsibility.
Except, it will be… he realized.
In a matter of years, he was expected to assume the role as Head of the Dainetris Dynasty. With all likelihood, the divisions of the former corporation operated by the family would be returned to his purview—at least those absorbed by Sietinen—and he’d have to be both businessman and politician.
Dainetris had been responsible for ship manufacture and other infrastructure projects before their fall. Those activities were more important than ever as the Taran civilization continued its expanse. Ships needed near-constant upkeep in the harsh, irradiated environment of space. Old vessels needed to be decommissioned and recycled, and new crafts with the latest technology advances were always under construction in massive shipyards throughout the worlds. If any of the production was mismanaged, repair parts wouldn’t make it to where they were needed and interstellar commerce would grind to a halt.
The same went for an issue with the SiNavTech network, VComm communications, or Makaris Corp food shipments—or the services delivered by the other High Dynasties, for that matter.
That’s why they are core services. That’s why Cris and Kate recognize the High Dynasties can’t rule from a place of greed, but must uphold an interest in the common good. As Ryan stared at the city below, he gained a new appreciation for the revolution that was about to take place. He had a chance to be a leader to set a new standard for resource management and allocation. If the other dynasties were willing to see the big picture of where Tarans could go as a collective people, so much more would be possible.
All the same, the thought of getting to that point was daunting, to say the least. He knew nothing about running a civilization, but he was willing to learn.
A cool breeze swept up from the lake, and Ryan’s skin prickled from the sudden chill.
There’s still time to grow into the person I need to be, he decided. And I’ll have Raena with me. We’ll figure it out together.
Ryan took a brisk pace back along the garden path as the wind continued to pick up. His mind was still too active for sleep when he made it back to the manor, so he decided to wander toward the administrative wing.
The lights were at full brightness in the corridor leading to the operations center, as SiNavTech employees worked around the clock to monitor the critical transportation network. The scent of brewing coffee wafted through the halls.
Unlike the daytime hours Ryan had witnessed as a maintenance tech, the halls were sparsely populated. He was able to stroll thr
ough the corridors looking at the holopaintings and memorabilia displayed on the walls and pedestals, encountering only the occasional passersby, and they were all too concerned with their own tasks to pay him much attention.
Eventually, he arrived at a dead-end hall tucked away from the main activity. It housed a collection of artifacts characterized by old-world craftsmanship from a previous era where wood, stone, and metalwork were vogue rather than the digital art popular in recent decades. Such fluctuating aesthetic tastes changed with every generation, but Ryan had always been drawn to art with a physical presence.
He approached a carved, three-dimensional relief map of Tararia mounted on one of the walls, at least two meters high and four wide. The entire model was painted with stunning realism, and he noted how even mountain peaks were detailed with the location of stream headwaters from ancient glaciers.
Examining the location around the city of Sieten, Ryan noticed that a green serpent resembling the Sietinen crest was situated in the hills to the north of the city, corresponding with the location of the estate. Likewise, in the First Region, he spotted a Falcon in the outskirts of the city of Vaentar. Curious, he scanned over the rest of the map and noticed the icons from other crests he recognized throughout the world.
Then, he saw it: a red flower identical to the painting his mother had given him at their brief reunion. It was along the southeastern coast of what was now the Third Region—squarely in the territory he was told used to be the Seventh Region, the seat of power for Dainetris.
Was this the capital city? No modern database had identified the location of the administrative complex—the Priesthood had destroyed those records in their information purge. But a map such as this, something that would have been dismissed as stylized art, had never been seized. Knowing where to look, they might be able to find more information about the Dainetris Dynasty’s fall.
Heart racing with excitement, Ryan snapped a picture of the map with his handheld and raced back to the adjoining quarters he was sharing with Raena. Middle of the night or not, he was anxious to share his discovery.
“I found something,” he told Raena telepathically as he entered the bedroom, going to sit next to her on the bed.