Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights (39 page)

“Where were the projects?”

Juster scrunched up his face as he mused about the power he’d once wielded, then looked back up at Mike. “I don’t remember, nor did I particularly care. I had bigger problems. All I wanted was results. I never got around to inspecting the facilities, but I can tell you that we sent thousands of scientists and engineers and construction workers. These were big projects.”

“Tell me where they are and I’ll deliver your message to your sister.”

“Deliver my message and I’ll point you in the right direction. I’ll accept a promise from her, but I can’t guarantee you results. I have no idea what damage was done to my private records on Triton when my guys pulled out. Our worst case scenario called for our files to accompany whatever leadership survived to a new headquarters. My personal files might have gone with them or they might actually have survived on Triton since only I could get into them. I have no way of knowing.”

“If they took them, who would have them now?”

“Bring me a promise, and I’ll give you my personal codes and tell you where they might be. That’s the best I can do.”

* * * * *

They left the cell block, each of them deep in thought. When they reached street level, Mike said, “Juster sounds like our best bet. We’ll play along with both of them, but I have a feeling Triton will be a dry hole.”

Seeton agreed. “Bruston’s in charge there during the reconstruction. If there’s anything there, he’ll find it.”

Mike nodded thoughtfully. “If the rebel leadership took the files when they left, I wonder if it’s time to take them out once and for all. We let them get away from Triton—we weren’t ready for an all-out fight then—but maybe we are now.”

“The Imperial Marines would love to get their licks in, Sire,” Havlock said.

Mike nodded. “I know, and they might get their chance this time, but there are a lot of factors to consider. Assuming we can locate the rebel base, we’ll have to deal with any Chessori there first. They’ll be on the ground and they’ll be out in space. We’ll need ships, probably a lot of them, but most of them are tied up readying for another attack against Earth. Those that aren’t are supporting Waverly as he routes the Chessori from worlds the rebels have refused to give up. What we need more than anything else is intelligence.” He turned to Seeton for confirmation.

“You’re asking me, Sire?”

“Why not? Everyone else does. You have a knack for making a hard job look easy.”

“In that case, I couldn’t agree more,” Seeton said. “I can set up a small operation, maybe include some Terran Protectors and a few marines. I think we both know who will lead it.”

Mike smiled. “Josh is pulled in more directions than I am. How wrong he was to ever consider retirement. He might want Akurea’s help on this one. She specializes in underground operations.”

He turned to Havlock. “Your focus is Tranxte. We’ll do our best to find this world of yours, and when we do we’ll probably turn that part of the operation over to you. Fair enough?”

“Sire, it’s more than I hoped for.”

“It’ll be at least a year and probably more,” Seeton said. “Maybe a lot more depending on Reba’s need for resources as she tracks down the Chessori. Just know that truth is a two-way street, Gar. We’ll keep you informed as things progress, and you keep us in the loop as well.”

* * * * *

Havlock spent a few hours that afternoon with Seeton, then returned to
Resolve
to collect his people and leave. His skimmer stopped at several inspection points, the last just under the rim of
Resolve’s
hull. From there, Protectors waved him through and he walked the rest of the way. He strolled up the ramp with his hands in his pockets, nodded to the two Protectors at the top of the ramp as he passed, and headed for the central shaft.

He called George just before stepping into the central shaft. “George, I’d like to see Sir Stven if he’s available.”

“He’s on the bridge, Gar. He says come right up.”

Stven was just removing his helmet when Havlock stepped onto the bridge. O’Brien, one of the pilots, was the only other person on the bridge. Havlock raised an eyebrow at the minimal staffing but did not feel like it was his place to comment.

Stven understood. “I’ve given some of the crew shore leave,” he said. “This port is about as secure as anyplace in the Empire. What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to thank you for your guidance before I leave.”

Puffs escaped from both nostrils, large puffs. “You’re leaving? Surely not!”

“I am, Sire,” Havlock said as he waved futilely through the air. “I know you’re expecting an influx of people for this trip of yours to Lianli, and I get the feeling it will be pretty hectic around here. I’ve arranged for rooms in the city for my people.”

“But you’re going with us,” Stven said.

“No, Sire. We need to get back. Seeton’s preparing a fast squadron to take us. They won’t stay long at Tranxte, but they’re bringing a lot of food and weapons.”

“Gar, Lianli is the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“I’m not saying this decision is easy, but people, lots of people, are dying every day on Tranxte. I’m not taking a vacation until that ends.”

“Hmm. I have to concur on that point, but as for leaving the ship, you can’t. Your people are in sick bay adjusting to their Riders.”

Havlock blinked, then blinked again. “Sire? You convinced them?”

“I didn’t have to. The vision Krys had of you three dying was all the convincing any of them needed. They came to me yesterday and told me they were ready. Atiana had a special request—she wanted the offspring of a dragon’s rider if possible. My Rider complied. Galborae received a Rider from Otis, Milae got one from our doctor, Kori got one from our Terran medic who’s also a Protector, and Hawke got one from our head Terran Protector, Terry Washburn.”

Havlock’s brow furrowed. “Does everyone on this boat have a Rider? I didn’t think there were that many around.”

“Actually, if they could be sold they’d be the single most valuable commodity in the Empire. You know we’ve been exploring Chessori space this past year. It’s not for public knowledge, in fact it’s an Imperial Secret at the moment, but as amazing as it seems, we discovered the home world of the Riders.”

Havlock went internal considering the implications of such a find. When he came back to his surroundings, he asked with a trace of awe, “How do you decide?”

“Who get’s them? We’re not deciding. It’s a matter for philosophers, not me and my crew. In the meantime, everyone on this ship is repeatedly exposed to danger, and we frequently deal with sensitive issues. Riders are wonderful advisors. We made the decision to equip our people as fully as we could. We made the decision for your people on the same grounds.”

Havlock shook his head. “The implications boggle the mind.”

“That they do. Your Rider is ready when you are.”

“Uh, whose . . .”

“Mike wants you and the Teacher to have Riders who’s hosts are from Earth. He expects to be comparing notes with both of you on a regular basis during the coming years. Jake, his Rider, has already fissioned. I understand he’s anxious to be rid of the creature.”

“Really?”

“Really. Riders produce carbon copies of themselves. They find it annoying to have another Rider who thinks and acts exactly like themselves sharing the same host. If you’re ready, Mike will meet you in your quarters.”

* * * * *

So Havlock got his Rider. His adjustment was a lot faster than his friends from Tranxte, and he was able to be there when they woke up. He was sitting beside Atiana’s bed in sick bay when her eyes fluttered open. She was lying on her side, and the first thing she focused on was him. Their gazes held for a time, then she reached a hand out to him. He stood up and took that hand, then leaned down and kissed her forehead. She didn’t let him get away with that. She put her arms around his neck and pulled herself up to him, burying her head in his neck.

She surprised him by forming words carefully in Galactic High Standard, the language in use throughout the Empire. “I had no idea. Stven truly gave me a gift I will treasure forever.”

“So you’re getting along. I’m relieved.”

She relaxed her hold on him and sank back into the bed for a moment, then sat up. “I went into this with misgivings, but Stven was right. How could we not get along?”

“When you’re ready, I’d like to go into the net so I can meet her.”

She smiled warmly. “I’d like that. So would she, though she already knows Jake, your Rider’s parent.” She reached out to him again and he put his arms around her. She kissed him on the lips, a long, lingering kiss, then moved away a couple of inches and stared into his eyes. “I want to get used to this.”

“I hope you will.”

A gruff voice sounded from the next bed. “Easy, Gar. She’s my queen, you know.”

A smile split Havlock’s face. “She’s mine, too. Didn’t you know?”

“Well, I guess I did.” Galborae got out of bed and joined them, putting his arm around Havlock’s shoulder. He looked to Atiana and said, “I once told you I could never call you Atiana, that you were my queen and always would be. That hasn’t changed, but after this, I think the six of us are linked. Not the same as I’m linked to Limam, but we’re linked. He leaned over and kissed Atiana on the forehead.

In turn, she wrapped one arm around his neck, keeping the other around Havlock. “We’ve met on the net and I know you for who you are, Galborae. We need to get Milae, Kori, and Hawke into the net with us, then we’ll be complete.”

They said their goodbye’s to everyone on
Resolve
two days later, leaving with only a backpack each. Everyone wanted to stretch their legs, so Hawke commandeered an air car at the spaceport terminal, chose a destination a few miles away from their hotel in the heart of the city, and they were off.

Atiana and Milae were new to the city and new to the sky knights
’
civilization, so their eyes stayed pretty much filled with amazement. Havlock gave Atiana his arm and she took it gratefully.

Six
gzeikolts
, massive 300-story planned communities housing thousands of families, businesses, and almost anything else people needed in their daily lives, dominated the skyline. Most residents never felt the need to leave the city, and in truth many rarely left their
gzeikolts
. Narrow at the bottom, blossoming out at the top like an upside down pear, these bulging, irregularly shaped buildings stood out clearly even from space. Each one had been artistically decorated with patterns that computers changed from time to time. Gossamer thin bridges connected the
gzeikolts
at various levels, making the heart of the city resemble a fairyland.

The skimmer dropped them a mile from the nearest
gzeikolt
and they set off on foot. Pedestrians crowded the boulevard, though people gave them a wide berth.

Havlock glanced at Hawke and caught him looking back with a smirk. “I think we look a little rough, sir.”

A block later Atiana said, “I can’t decide if they look silly or beautiful.”

“Who?” Havlock asked.

“The women. Such colorful clothes and jewels that emphasize their beauty so well. They must be wealthy beyond belief. For the first time in my life, I feel plain. What can you possibly see in me?”

“You mean besides the fact that you’re a queen, you own a kingdom, you manage a province, you hunt gleasons, you put your people first, and you’re the most beautiful woman in the galaxy?”

She stopped and put a hand up to his face. “Oh, Gar, I can’t compete with the beauty I see here, the beauty you’ve grown up with. Don’t lie to me.”

He took her hand and kissed it, not caring that their small group had become an impediment to the increasing foot traffic. “I’ll never lie to you, My Lady. You are beautiful, and I speak here not only of your physical beauty. You are beautiful inside and out in every way that matters to me.”

He swept his arm in an arc to take in the pedestrians. “It’s true, their clothes emphasize their beauty, but those clothes are only practical in this environment. Can you imagine fighting a gleason or riding a gorlac dressed like them?”

Kori stepped in before Atiana had a chance to answer. “Your Majesty, lots and lots of time and effort and expense have gone into creating the clothes you see here, and styles change periodically, forcing these people to replace things before they’re worn out.”

“Why?”

“Because most people here believe their appearance defines them. In a way, our appearance defines us too. We’ve chosen to dress functionally because we lead functional lives.”

“They don’t?”

She frowned, but just for a moment. “They do, but it’s a different functionality. People everywhere like to compete, and when they don’t have to compete for their next meal or to stay alive, they find something else. By something else, I mean they compete against each other. In place of swords and blasters, they use clothes, education, wealth, and position as their weapons. Most of them would not survive conditions on Tranxte—I doubt if a single person within your sight has ever heard of a gleason except possibly in a horror story—but you would find it equally difficult to compete in this world where fashion holds such a high priority.”

As they approached the nearest
gzeikolt
and its true size became clear, Atiana turned sad eyes to Havlock. “Is this the future of Tranxte?”

Havlock countered her question with one of his own. “Do you see now why I do not want the Empire to determine Tranxte’s future? These might be in your future . . . our future . . . but they might not. Or, they might be in the far future. This city is thousands of years old and has far too many people for them to live in individual homes. I would guess that the average person here has never felt grass or dirt under their feet.”

“You tried to tell me about these places, but I did not truly understand. I’m not certain I do even now. After only three weeks on
Resolve
, I sorely miss the sky, and I miss the sounds and smells of the outdoors.”

The
gzeikolt
drew everyone’s attention toward the sky, but Atiana noticed an area of bright green ahead of them. She sucked in a breath and glanced at Milae who had seen it as well. With unspoken agreement, they took each others hands and raced ahead to a parkland situated between two
gzeikolts
. Trees whose branches leafed out high above peoples’ heads left an unobstructed view through the park, and several fountains added their grace and music to an otherwise sterile, manicured environment. They stepped into the park with blissful expressions and removed their boots, then walked hand in hand toward the center of the park, leaving the rest of their small group to catch up.

Despite the millions of people living around the park, few actually used the park as a park. Most either crossed through the park on artificial pathways or strode purposefully along its boundaries. Atiana and Milae plopped down near an exception to the rule, a group of 15 children, then lay back into the grass with their eyes closed and smiles on their faces. Havlock, Galborae, and Kori joined them, but Hawke’s gaze settled on the group of children and their teacher.

The children sat on personal blankets in a semicircle in front of their teacher who was reading from her pad with her back to him. What caught his attention was that the teacher, brunette and trim but broad shouldered like an athlete, had removed her shoes and was sitting on the grass, not on a blanket. The next thing that caught his attention was her husky voice.

Intrigued, he ambled over to her and asked politely, “Pardon my interruption. May I listen to your story?”

An attractive, dark-haired woman with large, dark eyes turned half way around and looked up at him, considered him for a moment, then stood up. When she turned fully toward him, his breath caught in his throat: a terrible disfigurement below her left ear, a scar that ran from her ear to her shoulder, drew his eyes. He’d gotten used to seeing scars among the populations of Tranxte, but here such things stood out as highly unusual.

Then she smiled and his heart stopped beating. At first all he could focus on was wide, full lips that dimpled her cheeks and enlivened her whole face, but then he looked into her eyes, pools of dark brown that sparkled, pools that invited.

He fell in love on the spot.

His heart remained stopped while she pulled long brown hair forward with both hands to hide her scar
.
“It’s just a children’s story,” she said in that husky, pleasant voice.

Entranced, it took him a moment to remember to speak. He managed a feeble, “That’s okay.”

“May I ask a favor in return?
”
she asked in that amazing voice, a welcoming smile still dimpling her cheeks.

Distracted, he blinked a few times, his mind thinking more about alluring lips than words, then he remembered she expected a response.

“Of course.”

“I see the man with the sword, so you’re probably not the knight, and I recognize the governor. Are you the teacher?”

Those unexpected words brought him back to reality.
“You know who we are?”

“Of course. Anyone who pays attention to current events knows about you.”

He gulped. “I had no idea. Uh . . . yes, I’m called Teacher, though I’ve had no formal training.”

Her brow furrowed. “No formal training? And you’re responsible for teaching a whole world?”

“Well,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “I’m not teaching what you’re teaching. I’m really an Imperial Marine in disguise. I’m teaching kings and queens and soldiers and traders how to stay alive. The rest will come later, I hope.”

Her eyes narrowed as she considered, but then she brightened, her dimples reappearing. “Well, I’m not a teacher either, not for another month.”

Hawke lifted an eyebrow and looked to the children.

“I’m not teaching them,” she said. “I’m just reading to them.”

“Oh. Sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”

“It’s okay. I’m a student again so I have plenty of free time. I post a sign-up list for children who want to visit the park. I like to encourage them to get out.”

“Out of a whole
gzeikolt
you only got 15?”

“Sometimes a few more.” She held her hand out to him. “I’m Graylee Rodjiks.”

He took her hand, saying, “Everyone calls me Hawke or Teacher.” He started to lift her hand to his lips in a sign of chivalry when his sense of touch intruded. Without thinking, he turned her hand over and discovered significant calluses. She pulled her hand back, embarrassed.

“I know. Not very lady-like,” she said.

“That’s not what I was thinking at all. Yours are not the hands of a student. How come you’re not wearing shoes?”

She dimpled again. “I guess I’m a throwback. I grew up on a farm, and I’ve been off-world for the past few years.”

“I’m intrigued. Tell me if I’m being too nosy.”

Dimples again and a friendly, direct look that invited him into her personal space. “I will. I have a request, so I’ll get my story out of the way. Farm, engineering degree, colonist until we discovered intelligent life—in the ocean of all places—and we had to pull the plug. I’ll be finishing up an advanced teaching degree soon. That’s about it.”

Hawke stared at her in amazement. “I guess that explains the no shoes. You have a request?”

“I’ve always wanted to meet a real queen. May I?”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Let me check.” He stared at Graylee for a few more moments, reluctant to leave, but then he turned and stepped back over to Havlock. “Sir, did you know we’ve been on the news?”

Havlock leaned back, as surprised as Hawke had been. “No, I didn’t.” He considered for a time, then added, “It makes sense I suppose. The Empire’s investment in Tranxte is not small, and there’s no need to keep our plight a secret.”

“I suppose not.” Hawke looked to Atiana. “The woman over there asked if she could meet a real queen.”

Atiana’s hand went to her throat. “She knows me?”

“According to her,” Hawke answered, “you’re known to most everyone on the planet, and if that’s the case, your story might even get out to the rest of the Empire. If it does, a
lot
of people are going to know who you are, and they’re going to know about the hardships you and your people have endured because of the gleasons. This is an opportunity for you to represent Tranxte’s plight to our civilization.”

She stared at him, then her gaze went to Havlock. “Despite everything I’ve been through, I can’t get my mind around this one.”

He shook his head. “Nor can I.” He looked at her for a long time, but she could tell his thoughts were elsewhere. When she found his eyes actually focused back on herself, she knew his thoughts had firmed.

“I wonder if our Empire will fall in love with you just as I have?” he wondered aloud. “Your situation is a real rarity, a tale of hardship and sacrifice that’s going on
right now
, before their very eyes, and the outcome is not a sure thing. No one who’s not been to Tranxte can ever really understand what you’ve been through, and by the time your story spreads it will have changed—they’ll have you living through an adventure, not a nightmare—but you’ll be perceived as a real fairy tale kind of queen.”

Atiana stared at him, then just got up and walked over to the children. The moment she stood, Graylee motioned for her students to stand. Atiana approached, and the teacher went to a knee with her head bowed. The class followed her example.

“We’re honored, Your Majesty,” Graylee said.

Atiana responded carefully, her Rider helping her to speak words she barely understood. “Stand, all of you,” she ordered. “I would know your names.”

Hawke was busy gathering spare translator devices from his pack. He hurried over and attached one to Graylee’s ear, then Milae joined him to hand them out to each of the children. When everyone was ready, he nodded to Atiana who repeated her question in her own language.

The teacher replied, “I’m Graylee Rodjiks, Your Majesty.”

“I’m pleased to meet you,” Atiana said, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. She turned to the class which was still standing. “I am Queen Atiana.” She looked to the nearest child, a boy, and said, “Come forward, young man.” When the child reached her, she put a hand on each of his shoulders. “What’s your name?”

She repeated it with each child, then bade them all to sit back down. She sat down beside Graylee, saying, “You have questions?”

An hour later Graylee glanced toward the nearest
gzeikolt
and back to Atiana. “Your Majesty, the children should be getting back inside.”