The Lily and the Crown

by Roslyn Sinclair

  But on the fifth day, Rellin, the younger nurse, hurried into Ari’s room, looking both agitated and excited. “Did you see the newsholos?” he asked, sounding breathless.

  Ari and Dr. Eylen both looked up in surprise. “Rellin, I’m in the middle of checking Her Ladyship’s blood pressure,” Dr. Eylen said sternly. “You know not to get her excited.”

  “Carellian fell!” he said. “It surrendered!”

  Dr. Eylen sat up very straight, giving Ari an apprehensive glance. So she must know something Ari didn’t.

  “Surrendered?” Ari said. “To what?”

  “To Mír’s fleet,” he said. At Dr. Eylen’s glare, he said, “She would’ve found out soon enough.”

  “Mír’s fleet?” Ari said, thinking of the Carel sector, where Assistant had died, where they said it had been the work of Mír because nobody else was that awful. “I didn’t know—”

  Dr. Eylen was still glaring at Rellin. “We’ve heard rumors of pirates out there,” she said. “I’m sorry to upset you, Your Ladyship.”

  “No. I want to know,” Ari whispered, wondering how many thousands dead there were.

  “Rest their souls,” Dr. Eylen said, obviously thinking the same thing.

  “No, no,” Rellin said quickly. “That’s just it. They surrendered to Mír. They didn’t even put up a fight.”

  “When has that ever stopped her?” Dr. Eylen said.

  “They didn’t just surrender to her,” Rellin said. “They joined her.”

  There was a very, very long period of silence. Then Ari summed the whole thing up by saying, “What?”

  ~ ~ ~

  If Ari had expected Imperial forces to rally quickly, to defend or take back Carellian, she was mistaken. If anything, the Parliament seemed intent on dithering endlessly about what should be done, and for two days nothing was done at all. The Emperor made no statements, although a few images of him found their way into the newsfeeds—chiefly looking anxious and sweaty.

  In the end, three days after Mír’s forces had taken over Carellian, the Empire sent a diplomatic vessel to meet with Mír. The vessel was destroyed within an hour of its arrival in the sector without meeting with anyone.

  Mír’s ships had not destroyed it. Carellian’s crew had. The crew who had surrendered to Mír had joined her as if they had only been waiting for the opportunity. Perhaps they had. The newsfeeds and holos immediately branded them traitors to the Empire, and who could disagree?

  Reports made their way back to Homeworld: reports of the strength of Mír’s fleet, her apparently limitless reserves of wealth and firepower, the fanatical devotion of her crew. There were even whispers that the Empire wasn’t immediately moving to stop her because, quite simply, it couldn’t.

  The pirate queen now had an entire Imperial outpost for her playground. Nobody could predict what she would do next, once she was settled. Nobody had ever been able to.

  The Empire held its breath.

  CHAPTER 16

  “Transmission for Your Ladyship,” a slave boy said at the door of Ari’s quarters.

  Ari had come home yesterday, after a week in sickbay, with the understanding that Dr. Eylen would stop by to check on her tomorrow morning and make sure that all was well. Ari could already tell that her plants had received substandard care in her absence; the seedlings alone would need careful attention if they were to recover.

  Ari tried to tell herself that she cared about this.

  “Thank you,” she said to the boy, and took the chip to insert it into her datapad. Because of the trouble with the pirates, private transmissions were now screened. Some people in the station were getting political about it, saying it was an invasion of privacy or violation of rights or something, but Ari found she couldn’t care less. Why would anybody write to her about anything important?

  The transmission was a reply from Botany Today. Only two weeks ago, with Assistant at her side, Ari would have been in a frenzy to read it. Today, she skimmed over the words.

  Not the first to come forward with allegations…if you can offer proof…would welcome more information…anxiously awaiting your reply.

  They’d have a long wait. Ari tossed the datachip down the garbage chute and sat quietly at her kitchen table for a while.

  ~ ~ ~

  A month after her “episode,” as the nurses called it, Rellin and Dr. Eylen were still regularly stopping by Ari’s quarters to say hello. They appeared to have grown fond of her, for some reason.

  She was fond of them, too, she supposed. They were nice. They didn’t really stand to gain anything from being nice, either. She wasn’t the stationmaster’s daughter anymore, and she couldn’t do much for them one way or the other. So maybe it was okay when they smiled at her, or stopped by for a friendly word. Rellin even taught her how to play a card game called Catch.

  Because he meant well, Ari tried to enjoy herself instead of thinking about playing Q’heri with Assistant. Sometimes she thought about throwing away the wooden box beneath her bathroom sink but couldn’t bring herself to do it yet.

  Rellin seemed surprised at how quickly she picked it up and then began beating him. “You really are smart,” he said. Then he added quickly, “I didn’t mean it like that, Your Ladyship. Obviously, you’re very accomplished.” He glanced toward the garden. Ari had offered him the most cursory of tours on his first visit, more to be polite than anything else. “Just look at that. I only meant…”

  “That I’m good at more than gardens.” For the first time since Assistant had left, Ari felt her mouth stretch out into a smile—just a very small one, but it seemed to startle Rellin. “I did well in school. But nothing ever really grabbed me like botany does.”

  “No other sciences?” Rellin tilted his head to the side, giving Ari a better glimpse of the tattoo on his neck: a star with a flower around it. “You never thought about medicine? Or engineering? Astronomy?”

  Astronomy always made her think of the Observatory, and the Observatory made her think of Assistant. Ari looked down at her hand of cards and swallowed. “No. I don’t think I could do medicine. And all the other science, physics and engineering and… It’s dead science to me, just wires and motors and particle waves. My plants are alive.” Again, for the first time in far too long, Ari felt a revival of interest in her life’s work. A surge, almost, of affection. “They need me. Say, what does your tattoo mean?”

  He grinned. He had a nice smile—it never seemed forced or fake. “It means I got drunk one night six years ago and made an error in judgment.”

  “Why not have it removed?”

  Rellin shrugged. “The design means something to me. It reminds me of my home and my family. And I don’t get to go home often. I decided I might as well keep it. To remember.”

  To remember. Ari thought about that long after Rellin had left with his usual respectful bow. All she’d been wanting to do was forget, but since she couldn’t manage to do that, maybe allowing herself to remember was a better idea.

  Remembering her father and Assistant was the closest thing to having them alive and with her. Even if it was painful, it would be better not to forget them.

  That wasn’t as easy as it sounded, though, as Ari learned when Dr. Eylen stopped by for a chat a couple of days later. “I only saw your slave at your father’s funeral,” Dr. Eylen said over a cup of herbal tea. “Your…Assistant, you called her?”

  “She didn’t want a name.” Ari looked down into her cup. “And she wasn’t mine, she—”

  “Was your father’s. I remember now.” Dr. Eylen sat in Assistant’s chair, the chair where Assistant had asked her why she was so alone all the time, or talked about things she wanted to do to Ari in bed.

  “I asked her if she wanted a name,” Ari said. “But she didn’t.”

  “I know you miss her, but she seemed like a proud one,” Dr. Eylen said. “I could tell just from looking at her. The way she held herself. Nose in the air. Too good for everyone, I’m sure she felt.”

  �
��That’s not true,” Ari said, still looking into her tea. “She was just unhappy. She hated it here. That’s all it was.”

  “Well, I’m sure I don’t know why.” Dr. Eylen added more gently, “But I am sorry about what happened to her.”

  “I…” A month later, and Ari still felt like she was going to die every time she thought about Assistant’s face, about her voice. She still lay awake most of the night, still had nightmares, still needed sedatives every few days just to get some rest. But she didn’t want to go back to sickbay, no matter how kind everybody was. So she didn’t say anything but, “Yeah.”

  “It was odd, though,” Dr. Eylen added, “that little freighter. I wonder what they wanted it for? Why did they attack it before going for the main station?” She shook her head. “And they’ve been too quiet since then. I don’t like it. That sector turning traitor was a shock.” She gave Ari a hesitant glance. “Your father would have known what to do better than this new man, this Lord Koll.”

  Oddly, it didn’t hurt quite as much to think about her father’s death as it did Assistant’s. Maybe because, in the grand scheme of things, it somehow seemed less senseless. He’d been sick. He’d worked too hard during his illness. And he’d been a great man who had accomplished many things—more than most people would in four lifetimes. But Assistant had been cut down in her prime with no warning, right as she was about to start a new life.

  That said…it still hurt.

  “Yeah,” Ari repeated. Dr. Eylen had a point. Ari’s father had always been one of the best in the business when it came to thwarting pirates and keeping his own people safe. And apparently the “new man” wasn’t coming up to scratch.

  For the first time since Assistant’s death, anger stirred in Ari’s breast. Her father had literally given his life to keep the Empire safe. Was his work supposed to be for nothing, now that somebody else was in charge? He would never have wanted that. He’d have been working ceaselessly to stop Mír in her tracks however he could, even from a remote outpost like Nahtal.

  But apparently everybody else was happy enough just to sit back and let events unfold as they would, even as the Empire was overrun by murderers. How could Lord Koll, and others like him, face themselves in the mirror every day? Even Ari would try harder than this, for crying out loud.

  “But thank goodness it’s out of our hands, eh?” Dr. Eylen added. “I wouldn’t want to be in Lord Koll’s place.”

  “I guess not,” Ari said, and deliberately did not look toward the alcove where Assistant wasn’t, and never would be again.

  ~ ~ ~

  That night, Ari dreamed yet again of Assistant. She often did—vague, fleeting, nightmarish impressions that never added up to much, except that she woke up crying every time.

  But tonight, she dreamed of Assistant in her white dress, walking away from her toward a door. “Come back,” Ari implored. “Please, please come back.”

  Assistant did not turn around, or even act as if she’d heard Ari.

  Ari, who longed to run to her, to stop her, couldn’t move. “They’re going to kill you!” she cried. “Don’t get on the ship! Can’t you hear me? Please come back!”

  Assistant kept walking. And before Ari’s eyes, the doorway vanished, and she realized that Assistant was walking into a sun: something so bright and terrible it hurt Ari to look at it. But she never wavered, and Ari could only watch helplessly as she strode confidently into the heart of the star, until she became nothing but light and flame.

  ~ ~ ~

  The next day, the Thellian sector, adjacent to Carel, announced its allegiance to Mír.

  It had not been attacked. It had not been under siege. It had not even been under the threat of siege. And it welcomed the peaceful arrival of Mír’s flagship, the Crown Lily, with open arms. Within days, the flag of the Empire had vanished, and Mír’s colors ran high in its place.

  Four days later, Ankar, next to Thell, announced its decision, not to surrender, but to “ally itself to the rebel cause against a corrupt and decadent Empire.” Which was when everybody else finally figured it out.

  Mír was no longer looting and pillaging. Mír was quickly and methodically making her way around the Empire’s periphery, offering better deals to neglected, out-of-the-way stations than the Empire did. Offering protection, manpower, and wealth. Offering a change. Offering a “cause.”

  She was not leading a band of ruffians. She was leading a revolution.

  ~ ~ ~

  “But the Empire can’t just do nothing!” Ari said. She, Dr. Eylen, Rellin, and another physician named Dr. Ishti were sitting in the main mess hall over cups of coffee. Ari was glad not to go back to the Officers’ Mess, even if the food was better. “They’re supposed to protect us—they can’t just let this, this monster—”

  “Protect us from what?” Dr. Ishti said. “All three of the sectors have either surrendered peacefully or actively offered their allegiance. They want Mír there. For whatever reason.”

  “Why would anybody want her?” Ari asked, appalled. “Doesn’t everybody know what she is?”

  “Compared to the Emperor?” Rellin said. “Maybe she’s not so bad.” The three women stared at him. He squirmed, but added defiantly, “She’s doing things. Taking care of things. Everybody knows the Kazir are out there, and the Empire won’t admit it—but her fleet can hold them off. And it’s getting bigger every day.” This was true. Ships from all the sectors were flocking to Carel, Thell, and Ankar to join Mír’s growing group, while the Empire still trembled with indecision. “What has the Empire ever done, except tax us for services they don’t even provide?”

  “The Empire never killed any of us, either,” Ari didn’t think she’d ever spoken with that much venom in her life before. “They never blew up our ships and slaughtered a bunch of innocent people.” The other three looked at her in surprise.

  “I mean, I’m not saying she’s a nice person,” Rellin said awkwardly.

  “I want her to die,” Ari said. They stared some more.

  “The good news is, she will,” Dr. Eylen gave Ari’s arm a gentle pat. “That’s the only sure outcome for all of us, isn’t it?”

  In Ari’s memory, Assistant said sardonically, “That was suitably grim.” Ari couldn’t meet Dr. Eylen’s eyes, and instead let her gaze drift over to the other side of the mess, where she surprised someone looking back at her.

  She blinked. It was the guard from the corridor—the one who’d handcuffed Assistant and then struck Ari with the shock rod. As their eyes met, he went pale, turned away, and abandoned his food on the table as he headed for the doors in a big hurry.

  Ari’s stomach lurched. Her companions appeared not to notice as they chatted amongst themselves.

  She was pulled under by a wave of shame and regret. If the guard had reported what had happened, Assistant would have been sent to the mines, but she wouldn’t have been sent to her death. When Ari’s father died, Ari could have freed Assistant and brought her back, and even if Assistant left right after that, she wouldn’t have flown out on the doomed carrier. She would have lived, at least.

  If Dr. Eylen could hear Ari’s thoughts, she would tell her firmly not to blame herself or make up impossible stories that could only upset her more. Dwelling on what-ifs would never bring anyone back. It was too late.

  Silently, Ari watched her man-shaped guilty conscience flee the mess hall.

  ~ ~ ~

  What killed Ari—well, what nearly killed her, anyway—was the money. The money she’d given to Assistant. She didn’t want it for herself; she didn’t particularly need it, although she was starting to realize how expensive it was to keep up a large garden, and feared she’d have to cut corners soon. No, what enraged her was this.

  She’d given Assistant lots of money, in the full knowledge that Assistant was going away and might never return. She’d given it with a breaking, but full heart—with all the love Assistant had claimed Ari “knew nothing about.” She had hoped Assistant would be able to s
tart a new life for herself, in fine style, no less—to find somewhere she could be truly happy and free.

  All that money was in the hands of the pirates now. Filling the coffers of Assistant’s killers. Helping to fuel Mír’s rebellion instead of giving Assistant everything she’d ever wanted. It wasn’t just unfair. It was hideous, horrible—no, it was evil; that was the only word for it. Every time Ari thought about it, which was often, her throat filled up and she wanted to scream. Sometimes, when she was alone in the night, she did.

  She wished she knew what Mír looked like. She wished she had a face to pin her fury and misery on. It wasn’t difficult to hate someone without a face, but it was frustrating and unsatisfying.

  However, a week after Thell announced its allegiance to Mír’s rebellion, Ari got part of her wish. For the first time in her storied career, Mír began to appear in holos and clips. Never her face, and always from a distance: a body clad in black armor and helm, covered from head to toe, gun on one hip and sword on the other. She never spoke. Even from far away, she looked nothing like the shabby little mercenaries Ari’s father had captured from time to time, and even Ari could admit that it would be easy enough to follow someone with that sort of presence, that air of command.

  If that someone hadn’t killed your favorite person in the universe, anyway. Which was a big deal-breaker.

  Mír probably would be a better leader then the Emperor. She probably would provide a better defense against the Kazir. She could probably do a lot of things. But Ari didn’t care if Mír could bring a millennium of peace and prosperity to the system, and then the galaxy, and then the universe; nothing she ever did could make up for killing Assistant. Nothing.

  Worse—nothing Ari could ever do would make any difference to someone like Mír. Any difference at all.

  CHAPTER 17

  The same day that Mír appeared in holos (that quickly found their way all over the system), Ari finally finished going through all her father’s things.

  Much of it she’d given away: clothes, shoes, any personal things that might be useful to charities and such. Some of it she’d tossed out. A few things she’d keep in storage. What puzzled her were the boxes and boxes of holochips. Hundreds of pictures. Thousands. Of places her father had been, people he’d known—a whole life he had apparently lived in the public eye and without Ari’s knowledge. While she’d been puttering around in her garden, or suffering through school, he’d been having lunch with an ambassador from Ceta Five or going to a ball on Homeworld with glittering, shining people.