Redemption Song

by Henry A. Burns

  “Fan-fucking-tastic,” replied the voice. “This is Captain Bloom of Empire. The oligarch sends her love.” The voice chuckled. “Now, I bet your people are real tired right now, so how about letting us clean up the rest of this mess for you?” The voice chuckled again. “It’s gonna take another ten minutes or so to get there, so why don’t you give the oligarch a call? Just to confirm.”

  “Morning Mist, see if you can get the oligarch,” Kasumi shouted. Morning Mist chirped quietly to her Torque.

  “Well hello, darlings!” boomed a new voice over the communication system. “I just can’t wait to meet our guests from outer space.” The woman’s voice laughed heartily. “I’m sure Captain Bloom already made his offer, but the cavalry has arrived!”

  “Trap?” asked Kasumi.

  “Doubtful,” Jeremy replied from his seat in the corner of the command post. “I recognize her voice.”

  “Morning Mist, send the recall order,” Eisenstadt said. “And Madame Oligarch, you have our thanks.”

  “Call me Ophelia, darling,” the woman replied. “All my friends do.”

  22

  THE OLIGARCH

  The Rynn shuttle landed gently next to the shuttle hangar in the colony. A Rynn/human honor guard marched smartly toward the shuttle and formed two rows. For once, both Cool Evening Breeze and Sergeant Hendriks maintained a professional demeanor. Crystal Chandler and Dierdre McIntosh took up their station in order to record and comment on the event.

  David Eisenstadt, Kasumi Blunt, Mel Blunt, Morning Mist, and Jeremy Blunt waited at the end of the double column.

  The shuttle door opened, and a gangway lowered quietly. After a minute, two men strode down the gangway. They looked at the honor guard and the surroundings. One turned and nodded. A woman strolled down the gangway.

  She was big. She was the color of milk chocolate, and her round face was framed by a mass of black curls. Each finger had at least one ring. Her ears held hoops and studs. Her gold necklace had an emerald the size of a chicken egg. She was obviously wealthy and powerful, but mostly she was big.

  “Darlings!” she exclaimed in a voice that was as big as the woman. “Don’t you dare salute,” she admonished. She giggled, and it was a surprisingly delicate sound. “But you can give me a hug.” She knelt in front of Morning Mist. “Especially you, darling.” She spread her arms. “Give Big Momma a hug.” Morning Mist chittered in delight as the big woman hugged her. She repeated the embrace with all the assembled greeters.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Jeremy Blunt,” the oligarch cooed.

  “Hello, Ophelia,” Jeremy replied. “I’m surprised you remember me.”

  “Of course I remember you.” She linked her arm through Jeremy’s. “You were my first big interview.”

  Dierdre turned to Crystal. “Lord Jesus, the oligarch is Ophelia Winslow?” Crystal nodded slowly.

  “Gramps, you did not tell me you knew Ms. Winslow,” Mel said accusingly.

  “Call me Ophelia,” the oligarch said. “Gramps?” She leaned closer. “I think I see a little bit of Jeremy in you,” she said. “I interviewed Jeremy after he was released from prison,” she said. “It was, after all, the crime of the century.” She fanned herself. “Oh my, the screaming. The recriminations. The tears. And that was just from the chief of police.” She laughed. “Jeremy was, understandably, a little reticent to discuss the matter.”

  “I did the interview after she, um, convinced the police chief—another Coolidge, by the way—to resign,” Jeremy replied. “Ophelia, let me formally introduce everyone.” He waved a hand. “My granddaughter, Melanie.”

  “Call me Mel,” Mel said.

  “My granddaughter, Kasumi.” Jeremy smiled.

  “Germy honors me greatly,” Kasumi said to the oligarch’s questioning look. “He calls me his granddaughter of his heart, and Mel is his granddaughter of his soul.” She covered her eyes briefly. “I call him Teacher.” The oligarch nodded.

  “And Mel and Kasumi’s core sister, Morning Mist,” continued Jeremy.

  “Core sister?” the oligarch asked.

  “Wife and partner,” Jeremy explained.

  “Oh poo, and here I was hoping you were single,” the oligarch pouted. “Any more at home like you?” she asked. Morning Mist chittered in delight.

  “Our military commander, David Eisenstadt, and core brother to Mel, Kasumi, and Morning Mist,” Jeremy said. “Don’t pretend, David. Everyone knows.”

  “My, how wonderful!” the oligarch gushed. “I am so glad I decided to send my people to help you.”

  “So are we, Oligarch,” Commander Eisenstadt replied. “President Newgate sends his thanks as well. He is currently visiting some of the hospitalized. He hopes you’ll understand.”

  “People over politics?” the oligarch asked. “How refreshing.”

  “Germy lectured him about responsibility.” Kasumi gave her adoptive grandfather a proud Rynn smile. She walked over to the oligarch and took her free hand. She looked up at the big woman. “Why did you send aid?”

  “It was the right thing to do,” the oligarch replied quietly.

  “The First Teacher spoke of three blessings: to give water to the thirsty, to feed the hungry, and to give shelter to the naked—and to do so because it is right thing to do and for no other reason.” Kasumi released the oligarch’s hand and covered her eyes. “Germy says doing the right thing, no matter how hard, is the true definition of honor,” she said. “May the spirits bless you for all eternity.”

  Darren Newgate, president of the WSA, hurried from his helicopter toward the now completed command building. The building was circular, as was typical of Rynn structures, and was referred to as the “birds’ nest” until someone remembered that the Chinese already had a structure by that name. After some debate, the command building became simply referred to as the center.

  “I might as well just move the capital here,” he grumbled as he jogged toward the entrance. “I’m here almost as much as Sacramento.” It was a half-hearted complaint, as the president actually enjoyed his time among the Rynn. Over the past year, the population of the colony had soared to over five hundred. While the majority of the residents were human, at any time there could be as many as fifty Rynn inside the compound. Considering there were only seventy Rynn altogether on the Seeker, it was remarkable that so many Rynn were allowed to travel downside.

  He entered the center and was immediately flanked by two familiar faces. “Well, if it isn’t everyone’s favorite marines,” he said cheerfully. “Hello, Cool Evening Breeze, Hendriks,” he said in greeting. “Where’s your third?”

  Cool Evening Breeze pointed upwards with a long finger. “Crystal is getting a checkup,” she chirped.

  “Is something wrong?” President Newgate asked in concern.

  “Only if you consider being pregnant as something wrong,” chittered Cool Evening Breeze. “Our med techs are almost as excited as Crystal,” she explained. “This is the first human pregnancy they’ve seen, and they’re curious as hell.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better if she had some Earth doctors examining her?” President Newgate asked.

  “Oh, she has those too,” Hendriks replied. “Three of them.”

  “Sounds like she’s going to be in the best of hands,” President Newgate replied. “How’s it going with the oligarch?”

  Hendriks snickered as Cool Evening Breeze chittered. “She’s got about a dozen Rynn waiting on her hand and foot,” Hendriks replied.

  “And another dozen humans competing with the Rynn for her attention,” Cool Evening Breeze added. “She’s almost as popular as Teacher Jeremy,” she said. “She is one of the most competent people, Rynn or human, that we’ve ever met.”

  President Newgate chuckled. “I doubt anyone will argue with that,” he said. They stopped in front of a door, and Cool Evening Breeze stepped forward t
o open it. “As always, a pleasure,” he said.

  “By the way, Mr. President,” Cool Evening Breeze said. President Newgate paused. “We support you because you are also very competent.” President Newgate smiled slightly and then briefly covered his eyes. He walked through the door.

  “Darren, darling!” boomed the oligarch. “We were just talking about you.”

  “Good afternoon, Ophelia,” President Newgate replied. “Good afternoon, Kasumi, Mel, Morning Mist,” he said. He bowed to the older man sitting on a couch near a window. “Mr. Blunt.” And then he shook hands with the graying military man. “David.”

  The oligarch looked at one of the hovering Rynn stationed around the room. “Get President Newgate his afternoon coffee,” she directed. “And someone make sure we have some snacks,” she added. “I fear it’s going to be a long afternoon.”

  “Problems?” President Newgate asked. “Or rather, new problems?”

  “Depends on your point of view, I suppose,” Kasumi chirped. “Our location has gotten out,” she said. “We’re starting to see more and more people at the boundary. So far, most seem willing to just get a look at a Rynn.” Her crest flicked. “Most.”

  “Ah,” President Newgate grunted. “Since no one seems concerned, I gather it hasn’t progressed much beyond name-calling?”

  “Not as yet,” Kasumi confirmed. “Ophelia has agreed to take on doing our public relations.”

  “Crystal and Dierdre have been doing a good job,” the oligarch said firmly. “But I do have a few additional resources at my disposal.” She looked down at her tablet. “Next on the agenda: Prescott.”

  “We can’t let his attack go unanswered,” Kasumi said firmly. “David wants to launch a counterattack, but that feels wrong.”

  “Has anyone spoken to or even contacted what remains of the federal forces?” President Newgate asked.

  “I have,” David Eistenstadt replied. “They are maintaining a ‘wait and see’ approach. Basically, they are devoting their efforts to keeping external concerns at bay, while …” He grimaced. “While we settle our domestic issues.”

  “Domestic issues,” snorted President Newgate.

  “You can’t blame them, Darren,” Mel responded. “They’re going to have to work with whomever wins.”

  “Which is why I keep pushing for a counterattack,” the commander growled. “The sooner we break the Greater Texas Republic, the sooner we can focus on putting the country back together.”

  “No one is disagreeing, David,” Jeremy commented. “In fact, I agree with you that some retaliation in force would be recommended.” He raised his hand to forestall any comments. “But not against Texas,” he said. “Not yet, anyway.”

  He walked over to the wall map of the United States—a map that had been modified to show the current alliances. “We, meaning the WSA and Empire, are now in control of 50 percent of the country. Texas has about 25 percent, and the loose alliance of the Great Lakes Unity has 10 percent.” He took a marker and circled a section that encompassed what once was called the Old South and was now referred to under a different name. “The rest is under the control of the CSA”

  “As bad as Greater Texas is, the CSA is worse,” Mel said.

  “If we break the CSA, then Texas is isolated,” Jeremy said. “And if that’s not incentive enough, we are getting reports that they’re starting to reintroduce slavery.”

  “You’re joking,” President Newgate exclaimed in shock.

  “One guess who they’ve decided would make good slaves,” growled the oligarch. “Darren, regardless of what you will do, I will not stand for this.”

  “The CSA has money, weapons, and a well-trained military,” President Newgate said in serious tones.

  “I have more money,” the oligarch replied.

  “Germy?” Kasumi said. “Do humans truly think they can own other humans?”

  Mel chuckled sourly. “We keep trying to tell you, Core Sister. Humans are scum.” She looked at her grandfather. “Right, Gramps?”

  Jeremy sighed. “Unfortunately, humans have often considered other humans as nothing more than property.” He walked over to a bookshelf and pulled out a thick volume. “The Bible,” he said and handed it to Kasumi. “The source of most of the comfort and most of the pain for Western civilization.” He barked a laugh. “They once asked Mahatma Ghandi, a great teacher, what he thought of Western civilization.” He sighed again. “Do you know what he said?”

  “How would I know that, Germy?” Kasumi asked.

  “Yeah, but his answer will give you some insight into humans,” Jeremy replied. “He said, when asked what he thought of Western civilization, that it would be a good idea.”

  Kasumi tilted her head and her crest flicked and folded several times before it fully flattened. “That … that’s horrible.”

  “You should have heard what he said about the followers of that book you’re holding,” Mel added. “The same people who are running the CSA.”

  “The C stands for Christian,” Jeremy supplied in an aside to Kasumi.

  “I’m a Christian too, Jeremy,” the oligarch said tartly.

  “Don’t get Gramps started, Ophelia.” Mel looked hard at the big woman. “And don’t even try to apologize for them,” she said. “They are not misguided. They are not misinformed, mistaken, they are not ‘mis’ anything.” She growled. “They are what they are.”

  “Oligarch,” Kasumi said sharply. She lifted the heavy book she had been handed. “We have come to admire and respect you, but if this contains what I fear it contains, then we may have to reconsider what help we may give you.”

  “You can’t seriously expect me to accept that millions of people will be treated as animals because of how someone interprets the word of God?” the oligarch said in shock.

  “No one said that we will allow this … slavery to continue,” Kasumi disagreed. “Rynn do not and never have had Rynn owning Rynn. Even Sun-Warmed Boulder, may the spirits shun him, would have been appalled.” Her crest rose fully. “But any philosophy that would even consider it, is …” Kasumi’s crest, already fully extended, seemed to rise even more. “I do not have the words to express my disgust.” She looked at the oligarch coldly and then walked out of the room.

  “Lord Jesus,” the oligarch whispered.

  The oligarch sat in the room provided for her and nursed a drink. It was her third drink, and it did not seem to be helping. She sighed. In the time since Captain Kasumi had left their meeting, every single alien had suddenly found an excuse not to interact with her in any way. Oh, they were polite and would respond to requests, but even finding a Rynn to respond to requests was getting more and more difficult.

  The oligarch replayed the event in her head for what seemed liked the hundredth time, and she still wasn’t sure how she had offended the alien. She looked up at a knock. “Yes?”

  “It’s Dierdre McIntosh,” came the voice through the door. “I need to speak to you.”

  “Please,” the oligarch said anxiously. She downed the remains of her drink and walked over and opened the door. “Jesus, I’m glad to see you,” she began.

  “Don’t be,” Dierdre interrupted. “Right now, I am not your friend.”

  “Dierdre?” the oligarch replied in shock.

  “Why couldn’t you have just pissed on the floor?” growled Dierdre. “They might have forgiven you for that.” She shook her head. “But no, you had to shove your big fat foot into your mouth all the way to the knee.” She looked at the big woman angrily. “I just spent the last three hours trying to explain away your stupidity, and the best I can say is that the technological transfer will go through.”

  “What did I do?” pleaded the oligarch. “I still don’t understand what I did.”

  “‘I’m a Christian too,’” snapped Dierdre. “That’s what you said, wasn’t it?” The oligarch nodd
ed. “Too? Too?” She jabbed the big woman with a finger in punctuation. “Too?”

  “But,” protested the oligarch. “You’re a Christian.”

  “I. Am. Not. A. Christian,” Dierdre bit out. “I follow the teachings of Jesus Christ. But I will not call myself a Christian. That name has been defiled. Forever.”

  The princess approached the Temple of Light. Somehow the temple seemed subdued, and there was a feeling of emptiness. She looked around for the old monk, but she was nowhere to be found. The princess sat down on the steps and wept.

  “Tears?” came a familiar voice.

  The princess looked up to see the old monk looking down at her. “Oh, Grandmother, I don’t know what to do,” she cried. The old monk sat down next to the princess. “My friend has wronged another,” she said. “And I was …” She swallowed in a dry throat. “I was silent.”

  “And why were you silent?” asked the monk.

  “Because she was my friend,” whispered the princess in response. “And now, she is not.” She turned to the old monk. “I want my friend back, but I can’t until she undoes what she has done—but even if she does, will she ever be my friend again?”

  “A true quandary,” agreed the old monk. “Trust once lost can only be regained through great effort,” she smiled sadly. “And with great pain,” she said. “And only you can decide if the effort and the pain is worth it.” The old monk stood. “And only she can decide if she will make the effort.”

  The princess nodded. “Yes, Grandmother,” she replied.

  Kasumi opened her eyes. “Spirits,” she whispered. She carefully untangled herself from the mass of bodies that shared her kip. She got up and quietly started to dress.

  “You had another dream, didn’t you?” came Mel’s sleepy voice.

  “Yes, Core Sister,” Kasumi replied quietly.

  “And now you are going to try to patch things up with Ophelia,” Mel continued.

  “Yes, Core Sister,” Kasumi replied.