by White, Gwynn
A couple of braid ends hung down, a sign of wildness that wouldn’t go unnoticed in the city of Q’ian’Set. Those who remembered her would expect this kind of display. She’d rebelled by leaving. Might as well display what they felt certain of seeing, so they didn’t dig into other things.
Keva smoothed the heavily embroidered silk skirt. The elaborate top was one long scarf intricately wound, tucked, and folded around her frame.
The fabric added up to more than what an entire push station would make in a month, with its detailed embroidery and hand-woven gemstones, more gilded treasures from the original Kadira’s estate. She chose a wrap style that would accentuate her assets while leaving her movements free, just in case she needed to fight. Her black, tight-fitting pants were visible through her pink and violet overskirt that opened to the side.
She strapped her ceremonial knives to her thighs and shins. Usually, these adornments were strictly for appearances as a symbol of status and wealth, as most Elite didn’t know how to use them, but not for Keva. She had taken the usually dull blades and sharpened them razor thin. They might be heavily jeweled and despite her best efforts weren’t weighted evenly, but she knew how to use them if she needed to.
“ILO, how much longer until we dock?”
“Less than five minutes, Keva Duste,” ILO announced over the speaker. “We have disengaged from The Allorian and will be docking shortly.”
“Thank you, ILO.” Keva gave herself one last look. Her heavily kohled hazel eyes stared back at her, defiant. She had three local days to get close to Wilmur Zervek, plant her device, and leave. Hopefully, Madame Memta could be persuaded to see Keva’s line of reasoning quickly.
A seemingly impossible task.
She raised her chin and headed for the rear ramp. ILO lowered it as she approached, the docking feet settling softly on the landing pad of Set’ar Station. Keva pressed a finger against her forearm right next to the three freckles. The ident chip lit up under her skin for a moment to signify it was activated. “I’ll be back soon, ILO. Keep the ramp lowered and initiate code blue security protocols.”
“Of course, Kadira Saqqaf,” ILO said, using the identity Keva had activated. “Be safe.”
The docks stretched out above and below her; long landing strips lit up all around. The Allorian was moored one dock over, dwarfing Ghost Star.
Hale Reeve met her on the long strip leading to the main station. He didn’t raise an eyebrow at her appearance.
His lack of interest in her revised look only made her question his true motives more.
He folded his hands in front of him and stood, his legs shoulder width apart as she approached.
She stopped in front of him.
He pushed his lips out.
She tipped her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. If he had something to say, the man needed to hurry. The clock was ticking. It would take her three hours to get through security and into Qar's atmo. She had no way to anticipate how long Madame Memta would hold her before she even had the chance to say her piece. If the woman didn't see her point, Keva would assess the next best way to get close to Wilmur. So far, she'd come up with nothing good and the device had to be installed before she left.
“A thousand tarn,” he stated.
Oh, for the love of the Black. But this was the beauty of Hale Reeve. He didn’t do poetry or politics. “How long a layover?”
“A week.”
“I only need three days.”
“I’ll stay a week.”
“For a thousand tarn.” That wasn’t a question, just a reaffirmation.
“I’m scoping other work.” His tone said he didn’t care. His actions said to hurry.
“And if I need to leave sooner?”
“We’ll be ready to go.”
She flicked her eyebrows in acknowledgment. The fee was low considering how high the potential risk. She held out her hand. “Done.”
He took it and shook it firmly. “Done. If you’re not back in seven days, I’m leaving.”
He referred to space days, based on the Earther metric. Old habits die hard, even for those who'd never been on Old Earth. Terra Qar days were longer, something to be mindful of. But she still banked on persuading Madame Memta to help and not needing the extra time. She wanted to get in and out as fast as possible.
She nodded once and stepped around him.
“You do look like a princess in that get-up,” he whispered as she passed.
He just couldn’t help himself, could he? But he’d finally given her the reaction she needed to relax about his intentions. He was a big fish just now realizing that he had jumped into larger pond with even bigger fish. Very similar to the purple seas of Terra Qar.
She kept walking, leaving him to stand on the dock watching her. Despite herself, she enjoyed the feel of his gaze trailing after her.
She entered the station through the secure, Elite lifter which took her to the main floor. Once she stepped inside the station itself, quiet surrounded her. She hadn’t realized how much noise she’d unconsciously been blocking out in the hanger bay.
Within an hour, security cleared her for passage and Keva was headed back to Ghost Star. Madame Memta had presumably been made aware of Kadira’s arrival.
Fallow was right. She did need to give it a better name. Apollo? Stupid… focus.
Hale Reeve was nowhere in sight, but The Allorian hadn’t gone anywhere. A massive ship was moored on the other side of it, dwarfing even the battle-scarred vessel. Keva didn’t recognize the markings or the design and didn’t see a corporate logo.
But then she saw a tribal mark on the hull painted in a garish red.
Family?
There were basically four societal castes in the black. The spacers, terrans, pushers, and miners were the lowest class. Then there were those like Hale Reeve who worked hard, invested wisely and became a moneyed member of the upper working class.
Then, there were the Elite and the Families, the upper echelon of society. The corporate Elite had financed the exploration, terraforming, and settling of the four systems. They didn’t see the Families as an equal.
But out in the black? On Kalamatra? In any other system other than Qo?
The Families were arguably more powerful because they catered to the lower and upper working classes. They provided new filters. They updated the radiation protection systems. They made sure the spacers and terrans and miners had what they needed.
The Families just collected the money.
The two didn’t interact. There was no conflict and no cooperation. Two independent entities who orbited the same space.
So, why was a Family vessel docked at the Set’ar Jump Station? The only place to go from here was into Elite territory, and there was no way they were getting in. What kind of political minefield had she wandered into? Just by being here the Families were breaching serious social protocol.
That wasn’t Keva’s concern. She entered Ghost Star and pressed the button for the ramp to close behind her. “Take us to the flat, ILO.”
“As you wish, Kadira Saqqaf.”
Keva sat in the captain’s chair of the shuttle even though she didn’t need to monitor the route. Instead, she reviewed the ever-shifting hologram map of Q’ian’Set. It appeared that they were moving large buildings around the city to accommodate the wedding. Something bigger was going down.
ILO took them through intersystem space and down into Terra Qar’s orbit. Here, the information she’d wanted to access became abundant. Details on the wedding reception, the party, the parade. The gossip indicated that the wedding would be a grand affair. They’d cordoned off entire sections of the city for congregations, celebrations, and for the wedding itself.
So, what was happening behind the scenes? What warranted drawing this many corporate Elite into the same place at the same time? Something big. If she managed to install the device quickly, maybe she’d get more intel on what exactly they were trying to distract from.
Keva p
ulled up the guest list to see if that would offer any information. When she’d been there the first time, she’d gathered a lot of names, but hadn’t figured out where all the players fit.
One name was conspicuously missing from the guest list, however. Sexton Zervek’s.
Was he dead? Was Wilmur heir to the Z-Corp fortune? She considered entering in a name search but hesitated, knowing any such inquiry would be tracked back to her.
“Kadira Saqqaf,” ILO said pleasantly, “we are entering Terra Qar airspace.”
“Open light dampeners.”
A dark screen evaporated from the bay of plasteel windows that surrounded the nose of the bridge. Without the light dampeners, which also acted as added protection from reentry, she saw a world of water shimmering beneath the glowing rings that rotated the planet.
The rings stretched from the horizon to above her field of vision and then arced to the far horizon. Only a few spacers even knew of their existence thanks to the Elite keeping anyone who wasn’t one of their own far away from the System. Keva was a privileged individual.
A lush landmass dominated the horizon to her right, but no sparkling blue water like old earth described. Instead, it glistened light purple, with shades of pink in the shallower pools. Terra Qar might be covered mostly by water, but that didn’t mean the water was deep, nor was it drinkable.
Algae, flora, and the microscopic native life filled the seas. The inhabitants of Terra Qar relied on imported and produced water. The water processors could adjust the pH from the native water from its heavily alkaline state and remove the heavy metals, but they broke often under the strain. This planet wasn’t intended for human life, the Elite’s insistence on using it as their own personal paradise just proved their hubris.
ILO slowed Ghost Star as the light from the dual suns lit up the bridge. The binary system was the only one humans knew of to date with habitable planets. Just one more thing to make the Qo system Elite.
The ship dropped in altitude, gliding just above the water’s surface.
A silver and white city grew on the horizon. It floated above the ocean, long tendrils of power conduits cascading from the bottommost platform. The city hovered just above the water, moving as the hydro- and wind-powered generators dictated. It was a complex structure of many constantly moving and interchangeable sections which altogether created the city of Q’ian’Set. From this angle, it looked like a white, glowing mountaintop above a cloud, with glowing veins of electricity lightning out through the shadowed reflection.
Q’ian’Set, the place which controlled the four systems. Spacers knew of the planet’s existence, and some whispered about the city, but most thought the rumors nothing more than gossip, and it was simply a small and inconsequential outpost. The average system citizen had no idea of the size and scope of the city’s extravagance.
Keva stared as it grew, encompassing her entire view but for the pale orange mid-morning sky, dominated by the soft glowing rings of the planet. Tall buildings reached so high they faded into her periphery. Atmocraft of varying sizes and shapes floated along in long trails of traffic which didn’t appear to follow much of a pattern.
ILO flew towards a tall, plasteel plated building, past the smaller buildings of the lower class, almost appearing as though they might crash, then brought the nose up and coasted along the face of the structure as she veered toward the top.
“ILO, this is not my building.”
“My apologies, Kadira Saqqaf, but my automated navigation system has been overridden by high-level security access systems which prevented me from alerting you of the change in destination.”
Right on cue.
“We’re going to Madame Memta, aren’t we?”
“Yes, Kadira Saqqaf. That is our current destination.”
The traffic lanes oozed above Keva’s head. As the ship gained altitude, the traffic thinned until they reached the top of the building. ILO leveled out and landed Ghost Star neatly on the landing platform.
Showtime.
Keva took in a breath to steady her nerves.
It was time to find out about Batch D-65. Failure wasn’t an option.
ILO lowered the hatch and Keva stepped off the ramp. The soft Q’ian’Set breeze ruffled the hairs not properly pinned in place. Aromas of flowers and the odd smell of Terra Qar’s ocean filled her senses. The sunlight felt good against Keva’s bared shoulders.
A woman in a long black and gold cloak stood on the end of the loading dock, her full hood covering her head and shielding her face.
Keva fingered one of the knives at her hip as she strode purposefully down the landing dock. ILO cut Ghost Star’s engines, and in their absence, Keva registered the sounds of the city around her. The traffic whirred below them. The wind cut through the decorative structures on the roof, whistling and groaning.
The flat open roof offered no defensible locations other than her ship and the lift that would take them inside. She was as vulnerable.
The woman lowered her hood.
Madame Ajian Memta was a handsome, older woman. She showed few signs of aging, like the slight wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Considering the advanced beauty technology of the Elite, these flaws must have been ingrained in her genetic code, a deterioration of her cellular regeneration.
Keva guessed she was around a hundred years old.
A hundred years of experience to Keva’s twenty-eight.
Madame Memta’s blazing red hair hadn’t faded into the gray. Bold curls were swept up in an elaborate pile around her head with expensive jewels adorning it. Her makeup, much like Keva’s, was light, accentuating the power points of her beauty. Violet eyes and full, red lips.
“Madam Memta,” Keva said politely.
The other woman smiled, her expression seemingly warm in the orange light of the sky. “Kadira Saqqaf, welcome to my home. I would have a word with you.”
5
Are you intending to disrupt all of my travel plans?” Keva asked. “Perhaps detain me within your apartment until you can fetch an engagement price to your liking?”
A corner of Madame Memta's mouth rose in appreciation as she assessed Keva’s dress. “No. You would only attempt to flee again. But you will inform me as to your location for the past two years.”
What was Madame Memta’s game? What did she want if not Keva’s life?
And how was that going to derail Keva’s mission?
Keva moved around Madam Memta and proceeded along the lined path to the metal door of the lift, turning her back on the older woman as she swept past. The wind tugged at her skirt and her hair.
“Kadira, what has you in such a tremendous hurry? No time to catch up with an old friend?”
Keva stopped and turned with an affected sigh. Time to play her role. She raised her face to the sky, breathing in patience as she kept her face a careful mask. The twin suns rose slowly, making Terra Qar’s rings glow in a soft rainbow. Keva had been on several planets, but none offered a sunrise like this.
She lowered her gaze and smiled at the older, radiant woman. “I have several errands I wish to complete before the wedding festivities begin, Madame Memta.”
“Ajian, please.”
Keva narrowed her gaze. “I did not realize our relationship was so intimate.”
“Mmm.” Ajian stepped forward, her smile crinkling her eyes. “Yes. I believe we shall be quite close.”
Keva clenched her hand into a fist then released it, feeling the blood rush back and clearing her mind. With grace and calm, she moved to walk side-by-side with the other woman into the lift. It descended a few floors to a great room overlooking the smaller buildings and the vast oceans of Terra Qar.
Once inside, Ajian removed her cloak. A servant took it and disappeared. Ajian wore an intricate white dress, adorned with translucent jewels and silver metallic threads.
Ajian hooked her arm around Keva’s in a loose hold and led her down a short corridor.
Keva had no choice but to follow. To
resist would not only be a breach of manners but a distinct change in the character of Kadira Saqqaf. The hall branched in either direction, and Ajian took them to the right, ending at an ornate black and white door “You did not tell me where you have been for the last two years.”
“No,” Keva said carefully, her voice polite but unyielding. “I did not.”
“Are you being coy?”
“I am being careful.”
“Ah.” Ajian’s violet eyes danced with intrigue. She waved her hand in front of a pale control panel and a dual-leaf-shaped door opened to an expansive white room. The white furniture, walls, and high ceiling gave the room a never-ending feeling.
The only thing different was the floor, which shined so sleekly it may as well have been a black mirror. The curved windows showed another view of the city and ocean. The woman wielded both money and power.
Keva stopped as the door swooshed closed behind her.
Ajian continued deeper into the room and retrieved something from one of the tables. “I know you are not Elite, Kadira.”
“I do not understand why you will not let this matter go.” The hardest thing about this identity was remembering how to speak. Everything had to be more complicated than necessary. “I am who I claim to be. My DNA proves it. There is no issue here for us to discuss further.”
“And yet you fled instead of fulfilling your duties as any Elite would, were they properly encoded at birth.”
A myth many of the Elite believed, but in her short year on the planet, Keva knew it to be a lie. They were no more programmed to blindly obey than the rest of humanity. “I chose a different path as is my right. My free will is one of the greatest gifts of being Elite.”
“Except the marriage contract I offered would have cleared your father’s debt and returned his name to its rightful status. Dead though he is.”
“And I would have ended up just as dead.”
Ajian smirked and shrugged.
“How would I benefit from erasing that debt as a corpse?”
“Indeed.” Ajian stepped carefully toward Keva, her long dress hiding the older woman’s feet. She tapped the device in her hand against her chin. “How did you escape?”