The Mullinix Book 1: Ascension

by Rodney Mountain

  Chapter 57 - A Traitor’s Realization

  Anthony Stack walked in to the castle in the Mavelan Capital City. The journey had not been a pleasant one, as trade between the Mullinix and the Mavelans had pretty well ceased after the defection of Cirrus, some twenty-five years earlier. Much like their royal counterpart up in Siraq, this palace was far more opulent than needed by the monarch who lived within.

  This was the first time Anthony Stack had actually left the borders of the empire. He had not been prepared for what he was seeing in the Mavelans. Working for Ellis LaPorte had been more an accident than anything else, an adventure, one he figured would make him more money than he’d ever dream of being a simple clerk.

  "You must be Mr. Stack," one of the porters said in passable Mullinix, "They told me you would be here."

  "Yes," Stack nodded, looking around at the sheer opulence of the place, "I represent Ellis LaPorte."

  "The message from Colonel LaPorte only made it here yesterday," the porter said, "If you will follow me I will lead you where you need to go."

  "Very well," Stack agreed, using his barely passable Mavelan, "I will follow."

  The Mavelans were a bit different than the Mullinix in their manner, due mainly to the more restrictive society that they lived in. To any Mullinix who had ever met a Mavelan citizen they appeared rigid and unfeeling. For a nation that lived and died at the whims of their often insane rulers, it was the only way to live.

  "Our glorious king has been waiting for word from you," the porter said, "How go things in Cirrus City?

  "It’s still a mess," Stack told him, "Perfect for the plans. The Mullinix has no idea what is going on yet."

  The porter nodded and waved at a guard as they passed through. Stack looked around and wondered what it was like to live in such an oppressive environment. He figured he’d be finding out soon enough.

  "Good," the porter said, "Come on inside, Mr. Stack, we need to discuss some business."

  "Shouldn’t we do this with the king himself?" Stack asked as they walked into the room, "I mean you are a porter aren’t you?"

  "Only when I’m not being official," the porter said, removing his jacket and gaudy headdress, "I play a porter when I’m not in my chambers. Makes it harder to find me."

  "Excuse me?" Stack asked, "Why would someone want to assassinate a porter?"

  "Permit me to introduce myself," the former porter told him, standing upright and showing much better teeth than any porter would normally have, "I am King Facie of the Mavelans. The ruse is necessary for my protection. There are a number of people, quite a few of whom are your countrymen, who would like to see me dead."

  "I see your Mullinix improves when you are not playing porter," Stack told him, "You speak it almost as well as I do."

  "You must learn the language of your enemy to truly know how to defeat them," Facie told him, his yellowed features now becoming more apparent, "I yearn to someday have Insegniferro’s head on a stick, right outside my palace. I will gaze at it as I watch photoplays of the destruction of Mullinix Centre."

  "I don’t think we’ll get that far right now," Anthony Stack told the king, "But we do have Cirrus back in our grasp."

  "That will do for a start," the king said, taking glasses from a counter and pouring himself and his guest a glass of fine sherry, "Can you do this without precipitating a full war?"

  "We couldn’t have while Taliaferro was alive," Stack told him, "But he was old. We knew he wouldn’t be around for long. I’ve been giving them bogus information about Cirrus for ten years, so much so that they can’t know what is true and what isn’t now."

  "So Colonel LaPorte told me," King Facie nodded, "Why now?"

  "Perfect timing," Stack told him, "That’s how I got burned. Medoferro is young, so we’re moving now. The curious young fool started listening to things he shouldn’t have been. I would give my right arm to know how the hell he removed Srado and his men."

  "Perhaps you overreached too quickly," Facie suggested, "How good are LaPorte’s controls up there?"

  "Nothing goes in or out without his approval," Stack said, "The reports are so jumbled at this point that nobody knows what is true or not except for us."

  "Very well," Facie nodded, "When will the transfer be taking place?"

  "We’re waiting for final word on the conferences with Siraq," Stack told the King, "It will be easier if Insegniferro is at home running the roost. Massimaferro is a better tactician. With him dealing with the Siraqis, we can make the transfer before he can do anything about it."

  "You have one week then," Facie told them, "I have connections with the Siraqi Government. They have graciously agreed to push up the conference. The Mullinix themselves don’t even know this yet."

  "One week," Stack said, nodding, "I think we can do it. Can your people be ready?"

  "They will be," Facie nodded, "Or else."

  Anthony Stack had to fight to keep from flinching in the realization of what the ‘or else’ meant. He began to wonder what he had gotten himself in to, but realized that since his treachery in the capital was now known he had little choice but to continue on this path.

  "You should go back to Cirrus and let LaPorte know," Facie told the envoy, "You have little time to prepare."

  "Yes, your highness," Stack agreed, "I’ll make plans to leave straight away."

  "Be sure to be ready," Facie told him as he started to leave, "I want lists of the troublemakers made. The camps will have to be put up quickly."

  "Camps?" Stack asked, "What camps?"

  "The removal and reeducation camps," Facie said, same smile on his face, "The people who will make the transition difficult. We must deal with them squarely. There will be no repeat of what happened twenty five years ago."

  "We’ll get started on it," Stack nodded, inwardly wincing, "Anything else, sire?"

  "We’ll talk again when it is done," Facie said, "Let LaPorte know that I will reward you both for all you have done."

  "I will do so," Stack agreed, "I must go, your highness."

  "Travel well, Mr. Stack," King Facie told him, "I trust you shall be successful."

  Anthony Stack nodded as he left, not sure if he particularly wanted to be at this point.