by Kylie Chan
*
The funerals for the dead dragons and humans were held in one big ceremony, dragon-style, on Dragonhome. The entire Imperial complex, the square, Parliament and Palace buildings, had been changed from white to brown. Brown banners hung from the buildings and even the leaves on the trees were brown. Brown was the colour of mourning among dragons; it was the colour formed when the blood from their three circulatory systems – red, green and blue – mixed. Some of us humans chose to wear black or white in memory of our own who had died, but most of the other species wore either brown clothing or, if they didn’t wear clothing, draped themselves in brown ribbons and banners.
A procession wended its way through the entire length of Sky City, all ten kilometres of it. The Empress herself led the procession, accompanied by her fifteen current spouses and several goldenscales servants, all decked out in brown. The bodies of the fallen humans had already been interred on Earth, and dragons and humans carried symbolic banners, each with the abstract motif of the face of their dead on it.
I didn’t join the procession; it was for senior representatives of member planets, and those who had lost close family members. I was one of the lucky ones. I joined the crowd and watched it from the side of the square between Parliament and the Imperial Palace where Marque had constructed an enormous holographic stage to transmit proceedings.
Silence fell over the square as the Empress entered. Her head was covered in a brown cloth, secured with rough twine under her chin. She was accompanied by the human ambassador, Charles Maxwell, who wore a black pantsuit. The procession went through the middle of the square and the hologram blinked out when the Empress reached it. They walked up to the Palace and Marque lifted them onto a podium attached to the veranda surrounding the Palace complex. The Ambassador and Empress stood at the front, with the other dignitaries seated behind them. The Empress’ spouses arrayed themselves behind them and the goldenscales servants took position at the back with their heads bowed. The Imperial Guard in their blue and silver livery stationed themselves around the podium to watch the crowd.
We had to move to the edge of the square so that everyone holding a banner had room to fit. Marque recreated the holographic image of the Empress above our heads.
‘Dearest loved ones,’ she said. ‘We have lost so much. It has been centuries since so many have died the Real Death in one place. Normally the Real Death is a conscious, loving choice; surrounded by family and those close to our hearts, we depart this world in peace. This was a violent destruction of so many lives, particularly the humans, who have only begun to share the benefits of Empire membership.’
The entire square was completely silent. Nobody moved.
Ambassador Maxwell stepped forward to be next to the Empress. ‘Humans and dragons worked together to defend the Empire, and both sides have lost many loved ones. Humanity mourns its loss and acknowledges the courage of our soldiers who fought so bravely.’ She seemed to focus on me from across the square. ‘We will find a way to bring the rest of them home.’
‘Go now and mourn your dead,’ the Empress said. ‘Each of us has our own way to treasure the memories of those we have lost. I grieve with you, dear subjects, and sincerely hope that we can retrieve our beloved human citizens from the cats – and have peace finally reign in the Galaxies.’
She bowed her head and stepped back. Everybody holding a banner rolled it up and stood quietly.
Marque filled the square with a single crystalline chime that reverberated through the air for a long time. When it finally faded to nothing, people started to move around, some hugging each other and weeping.
‘Jian,’ Marque said above me.
‘Yes?’
‘The Empress would like to speak with you. Do you mind going up?’
‘What? Me?’ I stuttered. ‘Why me?’
‘Because of Oliver, and the cats, and you being the one that knows the most about them,’ Marque said. ‘It may also be something to do with you being the only one they’ll let on their planet. A few things that make you uniquely qualified.’
‘I resigned,’ I said.
‘From the Empire altogether?’ Marque said.
I studied the crowd between me and the Empress’ Palace. ‘It will take me forty-five minutes to get there.’
‘I’ll carry you.’
I made a soft sound of exasperation as Marque lifted me above the crowd.
‘At least make me invisible so I’m not a spectacle,’ I said.
‘You are,’ Marque said.
I sailed over the heads of the crowd. Other humans enjoyed being carried by Marque, feeling as if they were flying. I hated it, I was too high up and there was nothing under my feet. Oliver said it was because I was old. He was probably right.
Marque dropped me on the podium; Ambassador Maxwell had just left, and the dragons were preparing to return to the Palace.
‘Thank you for coming, Jian,’ the Empress said, and I bowed to her. ‘Come into my salon. I have something to ask you.’
I followed her inside her Palace to the entry hall. The ceiling was four metres above us, and one wall was made up of windows overlooking the square, letting the brilliant blue-white sunshine into the hall. Her assistants and spouses dispersed, leaving us with one goldenscales servant and a couple of Imperial Guards who escorted us through the main hall towards her private apartments.
We rounded a corner to find Princess Masako in her two-legged form, pinning Prince Haruka with his back against the wall. They were passionately kissing, their hands roaming each other. He was wearing a striking black and brown kimono of many floating layers in feminine style with a wide obi – a hot trend among the fashionable young men of New Nippon. He’d even had his long hair dyed brown to match, the first time I’d seen it a natural-looking colour – he usually wore it green to highlight his green dragon scales. They broke apart when they heard us approaching.
‘Completely inappropriate on a day of mourning,’ the Empress said crisply. ‘Take it somewhere else, you two.’
Haruka and Masako bowed to her, obviously mortified, and hurried out through one of the side doors.
The Empress took me into her private office. It was three times normal human size, with a mat for her to recline on behind her massive white and silver desk. Marque was a floating column in one corner, four metres high and a metre wide, a tube of swirling liquid in silver and white to match the decor. A couple of the Imperial Guards stood on either side of the door and I nodded to the captain, Shudo. He nodded back.
‘Tea, Kana,’ she said, and her goldenscales servant scurried away to make it for her.
She moved behind the desk and sat on her hind legs, then shifted some papers around.
‘The Imperial Guard are a democratic order. They choose their own members, inviting prospective guards themselves,’ she said. ‘The current Captain of the Guard has just had the equivalent of grandchildren, and it is his duty to care for them. He’s leaving the guard and they need to choose a new leader.’
‘This is why I’m here?’ I said, incredulous. ‘You want me to join your guard to fill the empty space when someone moves up to replace him?’
She eyed me over the desk, her bright blue eyes piercing. She pulled off the brown cloth that was draped over her head and tossed it onto the desk. ‘No. My guard want you to join my guard.’
‘Why . . .’ I said, then waved it away. ‘Cats. Obviously.’
‘Loyalty and bravery under fire are part of it, Jian,’ Captain Shudo said from his station next to the door.
I turned to speak to him. ‘You are a little pink bastard. Congratulations. How many babies?’
‘They’ll be born in six weeks or so, I’m already producing milk,’ he said, grinning to reveal three sharp rows of purple teeth. ‘It’s a really big litter, nine of the little pink bastards according to the scans. Come and visit when they’re born.’
‘I will. I’ll miss our drinking sessions; you’re about the only one I know who can take alcoho
l with me.’
‘Save it for when the babies are weaned, we’ll toast our lost comrades in arms,’ he said.
‘It’s a date.’ I turned to the Empress. ‘So who’s the new captain?’
‘The guard themselves vote to decide the new captain,’ the Empress said, sounding exasperated. ‘I have no say in it.’
‘They voted for you,’ the captain said. ‘I didn’t even put them up to it. They’ve seen that cat son of yours around the Palace for a year, and you’ve done such magic with him that they want you at the Empress’ back in case the cats attack again – and at her back anyway if there’s peace. You know the cats’ psyche inside-out.’
‘Please say you’ll do it, ma’am,’ said the other guard – a squat scaled reptile on eight legs inside a bubble of higher gravity.
‘I just resigned from the military to spend time with my son. My broken son,’ I said.
‘You have six weeks before I leave,’ Captain Shudo said. ‘Plenty of time to learn what’s involved. It’s really not difficult; it’s mostly looking angry and stomping around.’
‘I believe you are an expert at that,’ the Empress said mildly, studying the papers on her desk.
‘Are you sure there isn’t someone more qualified who’s already a member of the guard?’
‘Plenty of them are at least as qualified as you,’ the captain said. ‘But they’re all a bunch of lazy bastards who won’t do paperwork to save their lives. We need to keep a journal of any security incidents among the royal family. For these guys,’ he grinned over his shoulder at the other guard, ‘it’s too much damn work.’
‘Well it is,’ the other guard said.
‘You are a stickler for paperwork, Ms Choumali,’ the Empress said, still studying the papers. She pushed aside a couple of documents that appeared to be written in blood on the tanned skins of rats, and lifted an orange leaf with glyphs burned into it. ‘Record-keeping is absolutely vital in preparing strategies for the future, particularly with the cats’ ability to disable Marque.’ She glanced up at me, still holding the leaf. ‘I think they’re right, and you’re the best one for the job.’
‘Go and think about it for six weeks,’ Captain Shudo said. ‘And when you’ve decided, come and join us.’
‘We really need you, Jian Choumali,’ the other guard said.
‘I’ll think about it; ask me again in a year or so,’ I said, determined not to let them talk me into it. ‘By your leave, Majesty.’
‘No need for formality, Jian,’ the Empress said. She waved one claw over the desk. ‘Now go and see Charlie Maxwell. She wants to debrief you about your poor son.’
I bowed again. ‘Majesty.’ I turned and walked out, doubly determined not to let them talk me into this. As a citizen of the Empire my needs would be met regardless of whether I wanted to engage in formal employment or not. I had a son to look after and, when he’d recovered, another son to rescue.
6
I walked the hundred metres from the Empress’ Palace through the gardens and wide thoroughfares of the Embassy district. The Earth Embassy was a stately neo-Grecian styled mansion, sitting in a decorative garden of Earth plants that was surrounded by a high wall. The building and the wall around it changed from brown to white as I watched, the garden also changing from brown to Earth-natural green. A couple of human guards in blue and green livery were stationed at the compound’s entrance gate, and nodded to me when I arrived.
‘I was here three weeks ago, and the Embassy was a Japanese-style multi-storey castle,’ I said.
‘We shifted from Asia to Euroterre last month,’ the guard said.
‘Does the interior stay the same?’
He grinned. ‘No, everything inside moves around as well. America is a sprawling single-storey compound, a royal pain in the ass to secure.’ He opened the gate for me. ‘Come on in, Colonel – I mean Ms – Choumali.’
He took me into the marble-floored entry hall, decorated in lavish European style with gilt trimming, and guided me up the grand staircase. We went through a couple of reception halls to a smaller office with an imposing desk and a wall covered by book cases holding paper books with leather covers, some of them obviously extremely old. An antique globe of the Earth – at least a metre across – sat in a special cradle in the middle of the room, surrounded by a holographic display of the different types of Earth’s potatoes.
‘Jian. So good to see you.’ The Ambassador shook my hand, then gestured to one side. ‘Through here. Ronnie wants to say hello.’ She hadn’t changed at all; dragon rejuvenation techniques meant that she could choose to appear any age, and she chose to remain in her mid-fifties with short greying blonde hair.
‘I’d love to see Veronica again,’ I said as I followed the Ambassador into her private apartments. The rooms here were smaller and more modern, comfortably furnished and not nearly as imposing. We entered the living room where Ambassador Maxwell’s dragonscales granddaughter, Veronica, was sitting on a rug with a very small baby dragon – barely a metre long – with bright blue scales. Both of them were surrounded by a collection of toys that would suit a five-year-old child.
‘Hi, Ronnie,’ I said with pleasure.
Veronica rose and came to me, giving me a hug. ‘Jian. So good to see you.’ She pulled back to study my face. ‘It’s awful, isn’t it? Mummy’s one of them.’
‘We’ll get her back, Ronnie,’ the Ambassador said gruffly.
‘Linda was in the attack?’ I said.
The Ambassador nodded. ‘She’s one of the hostage humans.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know,’ I said.
‘She didn’t have a banner with her face on it. She’s alive.’
‘Is this Jian?’ the dragon said.
‘Yes, it is, Margie,’ Veronica said. She smiled at me. ‘This is my daughter, Margaret.’
The dragon bobbed her head. ‘Pleased to meet you, Ms Choumali. Mummy says a lot about you, and I’m glad to finally meet you.’
‘Remember when I hijacked you into starting this breeding program twenty-five years ago?’ the Ambassador said. ‘We succeeded. Not that it makes any difference now, but here’s our success. Scales of a dragon, heart of a human, and ready to transport Earth’s ships for us.’
‘Inside, I feel human,’ Margaret said. ‘I want to find a way to clothe myself and spend most of my time on two legs so that I’m human on the outside too. I want to return to Earth – that is my real home.’
‘I’m delighted to meet you as well, Margaret,’ I said. ‘I think I recognise those blue scales – is Narumi your dragonfather?’
‘Yes, she is,’ Margaret said, and lowered her head. ‘Was.’
‘Come into my private office, Ms Choumali,’ the Ambassador said.
Her private office was full of clutter – high-security hardcopy papers and books, hand-written journals and holographic storage flats. She sat me on a couch to one side and pulled her chair out from behind the desk to sit across from me.
‘Did the Empress offer you the position of Captain of the Imperial Guard?’ she said.
‘She did,’ I said, not really surprised that she knew.
‘Good. Please take it.’
‘You want me to spy on her?’
‘Oh, there’s no need for that,’ she said. ‘She’s quite open about who her agents are, and we are in return. Having a human as captain of her Guard will cement humanity’s place as the principal defenders of the dragon administration. It’s an extremely prestigious position, and whenever a captain steps down there’s a squabble among species as to who will have the honour of replacing them.’
‘I need to care for my human son and be ready to welcome my cat son home.’
‘I understand completely. My own family is torn apart by loss – Narumi’s dead, Linda’s a hostage, and Shiumo’s in a coma. We all need time to recover. But please consider the role when the grief is less raw.’
‘I’ll think about it.’
‘Excellent. Stay for tea?’
She nodded and her voice softened with compassion. ‘Perfectly understandable. Give them my best wishes.’
*
I didn’t delay the move from the Barracks planet to the empty townhouse next to Victor and Dianne. Most of the houses in their street were empty, the owners having moved to the new, larger, Marque-built housing on the reclaimed land. Victor and Dianne hadn’t moved because Victor was in the middle of the David-and-Oliver sculpture in the back shed, but they planned to acquire a new, larger house on reclaimed land when it was complete.
It took me a few days to unpack, and the final step was the photo collection. I turned on the projector booth and stepped back to admire it as it scrolled through holograms of my time in the military. I was overcome with a strange feeling of nostalgia as the faces of my many colleagues-in-arms flicked through; I had no regrets on leaving the military, but it had been my whole life for many years, first on Earth and then in the Dragon Empire. I’d come a long way since helping Sar-Major Shirani take new recruits through basic back on Earth. I’d never thought back then that I’d have the looks and health of a thirty-year-old when I was more than sixty, have two children, one of them a freaking alien I loved as my own, and I’d be living in an intergalactic society.
I turned away from the projection. No regrets on leaving the military. The camaraderie had been special, though. I wondered if the Imperial Guard had something similar, living in the Empress’ own palace and travelling with her as she met up with her ridiculously large number of spouses—
Marque spoke from the ceiling. ‘Runa just contacted me. She’s received a scales message from Oliver – he’s free to talk.’
I nearly collapsed with relief.
‘She’s about to fold close enough to the cat planet to speak to him telepathically – do you want to hear it here or next door?’
‘Next door with everybody,’ I said.
I raced out of my townhouse and into Dianne and Victor’s to find David laughing like a maniac – but he had a brittle edge to his laughter. He lunged around in his wheelchair, trying to pin Dianne against the wall, and she laughed as she ran from him.