The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (73 page)

BOOK: The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom
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“Captain,” the man was saying.
“Captain, I’m so glad to see you all.” He slapped the Captain’s back several
times before pulling himself away. There were tears shining in his brown eyes.

“And you…” He turned as Sireth
ambled up to the Captain’s side, smiling like the sun. “You must be my host?”

“Sireth benAramis. I am honored
to finally meet you,
sidi.”

But a bow was not enough, for
they embraced like old friends and Kirin envied the Seer the ease with which he
lived his life. Suddenly, the Bushido felt like chains.

He looked at Kerris, saw the
glint in his brother’s eye, the curl of his lip. Felt the stab of betrayal in
his heart, although Kerris had been as played as he. There was no killing
Solomon now. Kerris would see to it. The Seer was a master.

He needed to think.

He needed to think.

He glanced at the faces, each
wearing vastly different expressions. “I believe it is time for tea…”

And he turned and headed back for
the horses where the stores were waiting.

 

***

 

The end of the human race had not
been a speedy thing.

It had been the year 2109 AD when
the population of the planet reached 30 billion, and resources were perceived
as scarce. Whether or not they actually
were
scarce was a matter for debate – agricultural science had grown
extremely efficient, and industrial hydroponics could easily have fed more than
half the planet with healthy, organic food. Global regulatory systems had been
set in place for sharing those resources but ultimately had failed to function
and soon, as many as were born, died of want. As a result, nations went to war
over these resources and many more died. Weapons were as sophisticated as they
were brutal and not only cities disappeared, but entire regions were rendered
uninhabitable. The destruction of Israel had created a ‘dead zone’ for decades
after simultaneous bombings from its neighbors Iran, Iraq and Syria. Still,
even in such a state, the human race survived.

The plagues, however, started in
2153.

Genetically engineered viruses
began to systematically wipe out entire genomes of the human population, as
warring countries vied for resources. Countries such as India, Pakistan, Korea
and China (also known as the
Independent
Asian Republics
) emerged as scientific powerhouses and with no human rights
protocols to hinder the progress of research in areas such as microbiology,
virology, cloning and gene splicing, the western world struggled to keep pace.
The
European Union of States
claimed
the first western success with rat/monkey hybrids. These creatures, while
marvels of genetic engineering, were impossible to contain and the entire EUS state
of Great Britain became a self-contained wasteland, undone by its very own
hand. Soon, it became apparent that measures needed to be taken to ensure that
a remnant of humanity survived.

The IAR chose engineering,
building on the EUS’s ‘success’ with animal interspecies hybrids before
attempting the more complex feats of human-animal gene splicing. The logical
choices – the great apes – were far too similar genetically to
escape the variety of diseases that had been created, and soon, human-monkey
hybrids were being tested for viability and adaptability. There had been rumors
of other, more bizarre combinations, ie human-cat, human-dog, and even
human-bear, but scientific communications between nations had long ceased, so
there was no way to verify such wild and fanciful reports.

The EUS chose Ark projects,
establishing independent but collaborating cryogenic stations deep within
neutral territories, each buried a half-kilometer beneath the surface of the
earth. Three sites were chosen for their geological, tectonic, meteorological
and political stability –
Marathon,
in the heart of the Canadian Shield,
Kalgoorlie
Australia and
Kandersteg,
Switzerland. These were ideal homes for the international research facilities
known as the SANDMAN Projects. As the rest of the planet battled disease,
genetically-mutated plague, biological terrorism and nuclear fallout, these
three shelters were the cradle of hope for humanity’s survival, a living
arsenal of scholars and scientists, artists and engineers. Each facility boasted
incredible subterranean archives of research and raw data, history, art,
literature and music. Each possessed resources enough to jump-start human
civilization – people and possessions frozen in time, awaiting the cue
from a satellite in high orbit to awaken and begin life all over again, if it
came to that.

It was a self-fulfilling
prophecy. Naturally, it came to that.

In
another life, so long ago, Solomon had been known as Dr. Jeffery Solomon,
Supervisor7 of the International SleepLab1,
Kandersteg,
Switzerland.

Or
Swisserland,
to those of a feline persuasion.

So, while the IAR created
civilizations of not-quite-human people, Jeffery Solomon slept.

For hundreds of years, Jeffrey
Solomon slept.

In fact, for thousands of years,
Jeffrey Solomon slept.

And those not-quite-human people
not only survived but thrived, creating for themselves civilizations of their
own.

And Max, the orbiting satellite
with the directive to revive the SANDMAN projects, for reasons that can only be
speculated upon, failed to do his job. In fact, it wasn’t until the very high
orbit began to decay that any signal at all was transmitted, and that through
the minds and souls and lives of the very powerful not-quite-human people known
as the Seers of
Sha’Hadin
. The
process had killed six Seers, the other six Supervisors of SleepLab1, and left
a definite connection between the two survivors.That much was obvious. To
Kirin, they seemed cut from the same piece of cloth.

“So, how is it that after
hundreds, maybe thousands of years, you guys still speak English? I mean, it’s
not completely English – there’s some Chinese, some Hindi and some
Japanese in there as well, but mostly, it’s English. That’s crazy.”

They were sitting at the fire
after feasting on the last of the dates, tea and fresh fish caught by the
falcon from the great waters near the city. It was the first solid meal Solomon
had eaten since being awakened so many months ago, and Kirin found it
impossible to believe that anyone, including an Ancestor, could survive so long
on ‘vitamin squares, protein powder’ and water. He was sitting cross-legged,
one hand tugging the remnants of his beard, the other using the Major’s tanto
to cut it off. “Shaving’ he had called it.

His strange words seemed to have
no end.

“We are speaking Imperial,
sidi,”
corrected Kirin. “It is the
language of politics and diplomacy in the Upper Kingdom.”

“Oh and education,” added Fallon.
“And, and commerce. Although Hanyin, Farashi, Hindushi, Urdurash and Shaharabic
are common in commerce too.” She shrugged, her arms wrapped around her knees.
“Depends on where you are. It’s a big kingdom.”

“Damn big kingdom,” said Solomon.
He scraped around his chin.

The others watching him were
thrilled.

“So, so you grow a pelt, then you
cut it off…” Kerris shook his head, eyes wide with wonder. “That is
unbelievable.”

“Yeah, well… it’s not really… a
pelt…” Solomon had raised his chin to scrape the hairs off his throat. Kirin
watched carefully. It would all be over if that blade slipped. “Just a hairy,
itchy, flea-catching mess, that’s all…”

Fallon shuddered. “I hope you
don’t have fleas.”

“Me too, honey.”

Ursa was also watching intently,
pale eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “All beards should be scraped like that.”

The Seer grinned at her. “Even
mine?”

“Especially yours.”

Solomon sighed, ran a hand along
his chin. “Okay, that’ll have to do for now. I really need some soap and
water—“

“Hah!” shouted Kerris. “Water!
You like water?”

“Of course I like…” The brown
eyes stared at the group. “You’ve got to be kidding. You cats really don’t like
water?”

Ursa and Sireth shuddered at the
thought.

“That’s just too funny.” Solomon
shook his head. “You know, I honestly didn’t know what to expect, meeting you
people and all, but I always just assumed you’d be…you know, people…”

“We
are
people,” said Kirin in a low voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I didn’t
mean to offend, but…” he sighed, “There were no ‘cat people’ where I came from.
When
I came from… Just cats, and
people.”

“You created us,” said Fallon.
“Well, not you, but Ancestors. Other Ancestors. And not us individually, but us
as a people. We were your favorite people. It is written. Us, then the
Chi’Chen,
then dragons. But I’m not
really sure if dragons are people.”

“Dragons are not people,” said
Kerris.

“Right. So, the Ancestors of
Lha’Lhasa
created the first of us, and
well, we’ve being doing a pretty good job of keeping it going ever since.”

Solomon smiled. It was
interesting to see how the same emotions expressed themselves across his face.
Like the Seer, he also used his hands when talking, and seemed to like to
touch. Perhaps he was just making sure they were all real, and not a part of
some vivid ‘vitamin-square’ induced dream.

“So…” said Solomon now as he
stared into the fire. “There are no people? I mean, people like me?”

A silence fell over the little
fire, save for the crackling of the wood.

“No,” said Kirin. “The Ancestors
have been gone for over 3 dynasties.”

Fallon nodded. “In fact, it was
the last plague that sent the Dragon Team up the Nine-Peaks Mountain to find
out what had happened to the last of them. It was then that they found the
first of the Sacred Ones.”

“Sacred Ones?”

“Our leaders. More important than
lions.” She glanced at the Captain. “Um, sorry, Sir…”

He merely grunted.

“Are these Sacred Ones cats too?”

“Oh yes. They are small, fine and
have no pattern of coat-coloring. One can be a
Tabbeh,
Its kitten can be K
ali’coh
.
Very brilliant, very random.”

Solomon stared at her. “House
cats? Your ‘Sacred Ones’ are house cats?”

And he threw back his head and
laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks.

And something in Kirin began to
burn.

“They are
our
Sacred Ones,
sidi…”
he growled.

“Sorry, sorry. I don’t suppose
your mortal enemies are dogs, are they?”

Their silence was met with even
more laughter, and suddenly, Kirin knew with all of his heart that the Empire
was right and honorable and good, and that the Bushido was right and honorable
and good and that his decision was right and honorable and good.

And that this man, this Ancestor,
would die by his sword before the night was through.

Ana’thalyia
 

Feline pride is a dangerous
thing.

Cats are a strong people, a
generous people, a talented people. Cats sing, cats build, cats dream, cats
administrate. Each day, cats make decisions based on heritage, preferences and castes.
Their lives are shaped by many forces, some good, some not so good. It is the
way of things.

But one thing that does indeed
characterize cats is their pride. The Upper Kingdom was the envy of all other
civilizations, their culture rich and well preserved. Almost without exception,
their people are happy, hardworking and content. Yes, they are proud of a great
many things, and perhaps that was their undoing. Pride, while admittedly well
deserved, hints at arrogance, and therefore, it is dangerous. It leads one down
the path of unsound thinking, where the only voice you must listen to is your
own. Lions are especially prone to this, (although many Sacred-born dip a
finger in it as well) and the world to them becomes quite unilateral when it is
threatened.

The Captain was experiencing this
very thing.

It was very late, with Ursa
taking the first watch of the night, standing like a statue behind the Seer who
was deep in meditation. Solomon had fallen asleep quickly – he had to
have been exhausted – and both the Scholar and Kerris had bedded down on
opposing sides of the fire. Unusual. They had been inseparable of late.

For his part, Kirin could not
sleep, and so he lay, insides burning as if filled with coals. Solomon’s words
had triggered his pride, the laughter had boiled his blood, and as he lay,
hands laced tightly across his middle, he wrestled with the details of
Solomon’s death, and ultimately, his own. Not the necessity of it, not now, but
rather, the method of it, the timing. If possible, he would prefer to kill the
man swiftly. One strong, sure slice of the katanah to the neck would accomplish
the task with minimal pain and mess. The question was whether or not to let the
man know the blow was coming.

There were benefits to both, he
reasoned. Surely, Solomon would understand the necessity of such a sacrifice,
and would accept his death with quiet dignity, on his knees preferably, with
hands poised quietly in his lap. This would allow both Kirin and Solomon to
retain honor, the best of all possible outcomes. However, if Solomon did not
understand, if for any reason, he did not cooperate, then the best option was
the element of surprise.

His own death would be simple. A
harah’kiri
with the tanto to the belly,
slashing first left then right. He would have no second, however – he was
certain the Major would not assist him in this – and the death would be
slow, painful and bloody. Now a blade to the heart – the same method as
with Rhan Agoyian – had its appeal. Quick, quiet, contained. Both would
bring honor to his mother, his great house, his Empress.

Kerris, however, would be
shattered.

And it was with this knowledge
that the Captain wrestled long and hard. It was the only thing he regretted
now, the pain he would cause his brother. Perhaps the episodes that regularly
plagued him would resurface, chasing the sunshine away in favor of storms and
dark weather. Kerris had lived with these for years, ever since the death of
their father. He was a creature of both sunlight and shadows, equally at home
in either.

Kirin hoped the tigress would
help him, but somehow, he didn’t hold out much hope for that.

“What?”

He heard the Major hiss and he
realized that at some point, he had fallen into a light, troubled sleep. He sat
up, blinking, and focused his eyes across the fire, to where the Seer was
meditating. The man was shaking his head.

He leaned forward.
“Sidi?”

His eyes were tightly closed, his
tail lashing from side to side.

“Sidi,
what do you see?”

“An oracle…they have an oracle…”

Now it was Kirin’s turn to shake
his head.
“Who
has an oracle,
sidi?
The Alchemists who follow?”

“No… Not them…”

Kerris was awake now, as was the
Scholar. Solomon himself was stirring, hands pressed across his strange
pelt-less forehead in weariness.

Kirin frowned. “Who then?”

“They are tracking us…they have
been for months, since the splitting of the star…”

“The Alchemists?”

“The dogs,” he growled, and his
tail lashed again. “The damned, accursed dogs…”

Everyone sat straight up, save
for Solomon, who was only now pushing up to his elbows. Dogs had been a
constant threat on this journey, a constant danger, but not an actual force. In
fact, their party had not yet encountered any trace of dogs. They had faced
rats and bears, beaten them too, but the dogs had remained shadows, ghosts skirting
the edges of possibility. Unnamed fears, night terrors, mortal enemies.

“Dogs,
sidi?”
Kirin found his voice hoarse and strained. “There are dogs
following us?”

“From the northeast. Their oracle
has marked me somehow, has been following us for months. But I have him now. He
cannot escape…”

Kirin glanced at his brother,
then at Solomon.

“Why are they following us,
sidi?
Could this oracle possibly know
about the Ancestor?”

“It is not the Ancestor they
want…” The Seer ground his teeth. “Please be quiet. I have him almost
finished…”

Then suddenly, the man growled,
eyes open wide, and he released first one breath, then another. He looked up at
the Captain.

“He is dead.”

“Dead?”

“The oracle. I have killed him.”

 

***

 

“He is dead, lord.”

The Leader growled, lashed his
thick tail. He knew it had been dangerous, but then, that was the life of an
oracle. They lived only at the whim of their leaders and the mercy of their
craft. He glanced at the body, small and frail, twisted on itself in the throes
of death. It had not been a strong dog. Oracles rarely were. But to die in that
manner, killed by the soul of a cat, it was most unnatural.

“Burn him,” he said finally. “We
are close. We can track them ourselves now.”

His lieutenant nodded. “And the
others? The ones he would speak with, through the flames and the water?”

“Alchemists.” The Leader made a
face. “Perhaps we will find them first.”

The lieutenant smiled and bent
down to pick up the body.

 

***

 

They were all awake now, and
Kerris had busied himself by making tea. All things including battle
strategies, were improved upon under the calming, soothing, ordering influence
of tea. Even still, the Captain was pacing.

“How many dogs,
sidi?”

“I don’t know. A Legion.”

“I need numbers.”

“I have none for you.”

The tufted tail lashed. “How far
away?”

“I cannot say. Close, I presume.”

The man did not seem disturbed.
It was dark, they were in a ruined Ancestral city, being tracked by a party of
Alchemists and now, a Legion of dogs. And yet, he did not seem disturbed.

He narrowed his eyes.“How long
have you known?”

Sireth raised his brows. “About
the dogs? Oh, quite a long time.”

“And yet you said nothing.”

“We all have our secrets,
Captain.” And he smiled at this. “But, even so, it was irrelevant. Until now.”

Kirin swung around, hands on hips
. “I
am the Captain of this journey
, sidi.
It is for me to decide what is
or is not relevant.”

“Duly noted.”

He set his molars, released a
breath. “The Alchemists, are they also following?”

“Yes. There are five of them,
including Jet.
They
…are seeking the
Ancestor.”

Fallon Waterford, who had been
standing in silence this entire time, arms wrapped around her ribs, cocked her
head. “How could they know, sir? About Solomon, I mean?”

He glanced at her. “They are
Diviners. They cast lots, read numbers. Their numbers kept reading ‘six’.”

Her eyes grew round and her mouth
made a little ‘o’ as she thought it through.
“Oh,”
she finally said. “Six. The number of man.”

“Yes.”

“Sherah was a Diviner,” she said.

Now it was Kerris’ turn to cock
his head. “She knew too, didn’t she?”

Kirin nodded. He could not bring
himself to look at his brother.

Jeffrey Solomon held up both
hands. “Now wait a minute,” he said. “I may have been asleep for a couple of
thousand years, but I’m catching on to something here. These dogs, these
Alchemists, they’re coming for
me?”

“Yes,” said Kirin.

“The dogs – no. The
Alchemists – yes,” corrected Sireth.

“But why?”

 
“Because you are an Ancestor, that’s why,” growled Kirin.
“Your existence shifts the balance of power within the Empire. Within
all
the Empires. You have the potential
to raise armies while destroying others with a single word.”

The man’s pelt-less brow
furrowed. “But that…that’s crazy.”

Kirin sighed. “It is the way of
things.”

He turned to benAramis. “Send the
falcon. I want her to find the Legion, find out their location, their numbers.”

“Ah. No.”

It was almost expected, this
defiance. Kirin grew very calm. “It is not a request.”

“I will not send her.”

“I am tired of games,
sidi.”
He glanced at the falcon perched
on his shoulder, hooded and belled. “Why will you not send her?”

“The dogs are expert archers,
Captain. They shoot falcons.”

“They shoot
cats
,” Kerris snorted. And for once, Kirin agreed. He stepped very
close to the Seer, mindful that the Major was at his right hand. He wondered
what would happen if he chose to strike, which allegiance she would betray.

“Send the falcon. Tell her to
stay high, be safe, but that we need to know numbers and locations. Is that
understood?”

It seemed forever, but finally
the Seer raised a brow and lifted a gloved hand to the bird at his shoulder. He
stroked her downy breast, unlaced the leathers that bound her slim legs, at the
while speaking to her in soft, hushed tones like a lover. When he removed the
hood, she chirupped once before lifting from his arm and soaring into the night
sky.

All eyes strained to watch her
go.

Sireth looked back at him, eyes
shiny with tears. “It has begun,” he whispered. “It has begun and it cannot be
stopped.” And he turned and walked away, out of the firelight.

The Major shrugged and followed.

And Kirin’s heart sank, knowing
that whatever it was that had begun, it could not be ended now at the edge of a
sword.

“Kerris, prepare the horses. We
may need to leave at once.”

The grey lion nodded once and
also disappeared, and Kirin was grateful that there had been no flash of the
eyes, no curl of the lip. Perhaps this relationship could be salvaged somehow.
Despite everything, he did love his brother. Nothing other than duty to the
Empire could jeopardize that.

The tigress stepped forward. She
was wringing the laces on her desert tunic.

“Um, I’m going to help
Kerris…with the horses, I mean. If that’s okay?”

He studied her a moment, her
striped face and rippling hair, her great emerald eyes and quirky mouth. He never
had been good at reading people. This woman was almost as confounding as his
brother. “Yes,” he sighed. “Go.”

And she too disappeared into the
shadows cast by the ruins of buildings.

They were being tracked by dogs. They would likely all be dead before
the night was out.

He heard the crunch of thick
soles, felt Solomon fall in at his side. It felt natural, somehow. It belonged.

“Hey, Captain…”

“Yes, Solomon?”

“Can a talk to you a sec?”

“A sek?”

“Sorry. For a moment. In
private.”

Kirin glanced around. The Seer
and the Major were barely visible in the firelight. Kerris and the Scholar were
not visible at all, for the horses had wandered far as they grazed the lush new
growth of the city. There was no one watching. No one at all.

He didn’t understand.

The man touched his arm, turned
and crunched his way out of the firelight. The moon was waning now, a sharp
slice cut out of her usually happy face. The light she spilled was adequate,
and when Solomon stopped behind a stand of trees that had pushed their way
through stone, his pelt-less face looked stark in its cold blue glow.

“Listen, Captain, I think I get
what you’re saying, here. I don’t want to cause any problems. I certainly don’t
want to be toppling any Empires, or starting any wars between peoples or
anything like that. We were just trying to ensure the survival of our species,
that’s all.”

“I understand.” He did, to an
extent.

“If these dogs are putting you
all in danger just because of me, then I don’t need to be a part of this
equation.”

Now, he did not understand.

“I was really hoping that you
were human. That I would have a place to come back to, a people to come back
to. A future to build on. Now, I don’t know what I have…”

Solomon sighed, put one hand on
his hip, ran the other through the tangle that was his hair.

“I just want you to know that I
don’t have to come with you, that’s all.”

Kirin looked at him.

“In fact, you might be safer
without me. If these dogs are looking to me as some sort of kingmaker, then you
all would be better off without me, don’tcha think?”

Something began to tighten in
Kirin’s chest. “The Empire is in grave danger because of you, Solomon.”

“Yeah, I get that. I had a plan
B, you know. There were three Sandman Projects, one in Switzerland, one in
Canada and one in Australia. Maybe they are still sleeping over there. Maybe
Max didn’t wake their supers and maybe, if I can get to either Canada or
Australia, then maybe I can begin the process manually…”

BOOK: The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom
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