Zoe Thanatos (27 page)

The girl’s surname caught his
attention. Zara Terra. There wasn’t much information about her. She was
generationally aged similar to him lived and in an outlying city. When he
touched location for a map it appeared and zoomed directly onto a common
building in Last City.

“Wait,
what
?” he gasped out
loud. He looked at the girl’s photo again and studied her features. He couldn’t
shake that there was something unnatural looking about the photo, something he
could not comprehend. She was pretty and unsmiling, a far-off look in her eyes.
Something about her face seemed oddly familiar to him, as though she were a
face from a set of memories he had long since forgotten. She wasn’t one of the
Queen’s ladies-in-waiting, nor was she anyone he immediately recognized. She
didn’t even bear a resemblance to either Thea or Zoe, and yet she was the right
age, had an unclassified family surname, and lived in Last City.

She couldn’t be a lost Thanatos
daughter, he realized, a sting of defeat in his chest. Besides, what were the
odds that both Thea Thanatos and her long-lost, presumed dead daughter had
spent half a generation living in the same outlying city?

He swiped a finger in a downward
motion across the glass surface and it dimmed at once, the anonymous blonde Zara
swiped away. He reprimanded himself for thinking it would be so easy to find
the answers to his questions. If the Stratons had gone through the effort of
completely erasing all traces of the original family from the network then how
could he expect to find any information on those who had the remotest
possibility of being alive?

Evan took a seat on a nearby couch
and sank in deep into the cushions. He disliked knowing he would have to sit
around and wait for news, hoping that wherever Zoe and his sister were they
were safe and would be returning soon. Then Terra as they knew it would be
changed forever.

His eyes closed as his mind went to
Zoe, seeing her lovely face as she smiled, the memory of her laughter ringing
in his head. He hoped she wouldn’t change, that she would remain the same Zoe
he met on Earth, plus a smile or two more. He drifted off into sleep as he
remembered the way she held onto him as he took her to Paris, how the city
lights reflected in her eyes, wide with amazement. She’d nearly left the world
she grew up in without seeing everything it had to offer and now she was in
another world, exploring the forgotten parts to find something she had no
assurance existed. She had a strong constitution to take it all on faith, not
knowing where the path would take her.

Who would Zoe be when all was said
and done? The Queen of Terra? She knew little about its people or cities, the
way it was governed and run. Most importantly the people didn’t know her. Would
they accept her as one of their own? As their rightful Queen?

He awoke from a dream to the sound
of small pinging. How long had he been asleep for? He felt more rested than he
had before, sleep leaving his eyes and mind quickly as he sat upright in the
seat. The pinging sounded again and he realized it was coming from his
Communicator, tucked gently to his side in a pocket. He retrieved it and looked
at the screen, his eyes growing at the message before him.

‘
Look again
.’

A flicker of light caught his
attention and he looked up, noticing the glass panel of the information kiosk
coming to life again, the light brightening the room. The picture of Zara Terra
filled half the screen, another near identical photo materializing next to it.
He stood and walked to the wall, carrying the Communicator with him.

At first glance the two faces
looked identical, but the second photo lacked the strange quality the first
possessed. The eyes and hair were the same but the other features were slightly
different. The second woman’s nose was noticeably larger and her cheek bones
arched high above her face. Something about the woman’s face suggested an air
of superiority and he realized it was the way her mouth formed a smile, taught
and a bit smug, the corners upturned infinitesimally.

The pictures moved without
provocation, Zara’s face aligning over the second woman’s. Soon he could no
longer tell which photograph he was looking at. Their faces were
interchangeable, the woman’s face morphing into Zara’s and vice versa until
they were the same person. A file icon pinged on the bottom right-hand corner
of the glass, a point of light ebbing beneath it. Evan looked to the screen on
his Communicator again, then looked back up at the information kiosk. With a
quick movement of his hand he touched the file icon and watched as a third
photo emerged, this time of an Elder with the same blonde hair, dark eyes and
high cheek bones. Her chin was upturned, as were the corners of her mouth, a
superior smile upon her lips.

Maybe his mind was still asleep,
which would explain why whatever he was meant to see in the photos wasn’t
clicking. The Elder woman looked like the second woman and even like Zara
Terra, but he couldn’t make sense of it. The only photo that looked slightly
out of place was Zara’s but he could still not comprehend why. All three women
appeared to be one and the same, but Zara Terra was not classified as an Elder,
so what was the explanation for the Elder’s photo?

He looked to the communicator again
and read the message half a dozen times more, each time understanding nothing.
‘
Look again
,’ it instructed, but at what? Perhaps Zara Terra was just
another Elder, a misclassified oversight in the network. It didn’t seem odd for
a Resident from Last City to have so little information available. Most of Last
City’s residents were those with whom the Crown was not concerned. Elders had
gone there to retire, those who had no interest in the rigmarole of life in the
Royal City, and outcasts who had been banished from the inner cities. The lack
of information on her was inconsequential, yet something about it continued to
bother him. Who was the sender of the message and why did he or she want him to
‘look again’
?

The communicator pinged and when he
looked down he found another message, the second more cryptic than the first.

‘
Make the right choice
.’

A loud knock on the door startled
him, his heart pounding hard in his chest as he nearly dropped the device to
the floor. He quickly looked to the information kiosk with the intent to shut
it down when he realized it had already done so. The faces were gone.

He opened the door and found Hector
standing on the other side dressed in full military regalia. He bowed his head
briefly to Evan, a formality he had never been privileged to, and straightened
his back formally.

“Evander Nero, your immediate
presence is requested by command of the Queen and Her Royal Highness the Queen
Mother. You will please follow me at once as I escort you to the ancillary
Throne Room in the Military Complex.”

Evan had barely a moment to think
before Hector moved to the side of the entry, a movement he realized meant
right
now
. Why meet in an ancillary Throne Room instead of the actual one? More
important was the mention of the Queen Mother. He couldn’t recall the last time
the first Straton Queen had been on Terra.

Hector looked at him expectantly as
his mind tried to keep up. Without a word he walked through the door, letting
it close behind him as he followed Hector towards the Military Complex.

There were only a few occasions
when Evan was permitted to enter the Military Complex, such as when he was
accompanying the King or Queen. His relationship with them came with certain
privileges, but for the most part those did not include entrance into the
secret military compound on his own. As he followed Hector, Evan felt an
increasing sense of apprehension. Something was amiss.

During previous visits the complex
he observed a rather serene environment where everything and everyone worked as
a function of the complex itself. Crown Soldiers quietly stood guard at
entrances, roamed the interior corridors, and went about the usual business of
protecting Terra and its residents. That untroubled scene was gone, replaced
with a discordant atmosphere that left Evan feeling uneasy. Soldiers were
dressed in their formal uniforms, boots newly polished, fitted jackets with
various insignias inscribed in metallic colored threads, and weapons holstered
at their sides. The sight of them with weapons was still as unnerving has it
had been the first time.

There were triple the number of
Soldiers present, if not more, forming lines in multiples as higher ranking
officials shouted instructions at them. More soldiers congregated around great
panels of glass which glowed with maps that animated, updating in real-time.
All around the complex was a cacophony of orders and salutes from the soldiers.
He had never seen so many before and the feeling that there were even more out
in the corridors of Terra did little to quell his uneasiness.

Hector led him toward an entryway
stocked with half a dozen soldiers, more than any other door or corridor. The
first two soldiers at either side nodded at Hector as they both approached,
their bodies moving to open the great double doors as they neared. Just as the
doors parted there was a shuffling from somewhere behind them and the voices
lowered into hushed tones. Evan turned to see someone, a woman by the look of
her, being escorted by two rows of a dozen soldiers, a sheath of black fabric
draped over her head to disguise her face.

Hector moved next to Evan and used
the extension of his arm to move him backwards as he stepped back, making room
for the soldiers to escort their prisoner through the very entryway. The room
fell into a silence as nearly every head turned to look at the prisoner. Clearly
there was a lot that Evan had missed in only a short period of time. He
wondered what other surprises were awaiting him.

As the convoy moved in through the
entryway Hector took hold of his arm again and escorted him in afterward,
bringing up the rear of the convoy into the room.  It was more lavish than the
monochromatic simplicity of the rest of the Military Complex, the glass walls
depicting a fantastic view of the universe similar to the one in the Throne
Room. Crown Soldiers in their finest military uniforms formed a perimeter along
the walls of the room, each standing ramrod straight and at full attention.

The soldiers escorting the prisoner
moved to the center of the room and formed a semi-circle around her, each of
them standing at attention towards a focal point in the room. As the movement
stopped Evan noticed a second circular formation of soldiers around a second
prisoner, who also had a black hood around their head. He had the distinct
feeling the second prisoner was male.

“Evander Nero,” a familiar voice
called smoothly. It had been a long time since he last heard the Queen Mother’s
cool voice, and even then it made his shoulders snap back. He turned his
attention away from the prisoners and to the center of the room. Three ornate
chairs were situated on a platform that constituted a throne, the Queen and
Queen Mother in two and the empty third at Kyra’s side. They were each dressed
in richly-colored robes with elaborate embroideries made of thick golden thread
and jeweled crowns sat atop their meticulously adorned heads. There had not
been such pomp and circumstance since the days of Kyra’s coronation and wedding
ceremonies.

Evan bowed his head deeply before
the Queen Mother and to the Queen, who looked down on him with wide eyes and a
constrained smile. “Your Highnesses,” he greeted.

“I have not seen you in some time,
Evander. You seem to have grown into a man worthy of your father’s name,” the
Queen Mother spoke. Her words were an unwelcome surprise to him. Though he felt
she was culpable in the death of his parents, verbalizing such an accusation
would be tantamount to treason and subject to the severest of punishments. He
had long ago learned to keep his anger contained within him and would not let
her brazen greeting alter the habit.

“You honor me, Your Highness.
Surely I am unqualified to be present at a proceeding such as this?”

“On the contrary, Evander, your
lifelong friendship with the Crown has conferred upon you a most unique
position. The Queen tells me you have been a trusted companion of both hers and
her husband’s, and by extension you are a trusted appointee of these
proceedings.”

Evan took a moment to survey his
surroundings again, the formations of Crown Soldiers standing pointedly about
the room around the two faceless prisoners, seeming less ceremonial and more
like a trial.

“Please, join us,” she requested,
her arm extending towards the empty seat on the throne.

The Queen Mother’s mention of Owyn
made him realize that it was the King’s presence that was missing from the room,
the third chair a glaring reminder of his absence. He couldn’t imagine where
the King could possibly be that would take him away from the gathering, and
surely they would not invite him to sit in the King’s place.

His confusion must have been
evident; the Queen stood from her seat, the thick robe she wore draping down so
that it grazed the floor. Her hand extended towards the empty seat and her
reserved smile invited him to the join at her side to preside over the court.

Despite his confusion he knew better
than to blatantly ignore the commands of the sovereign, and so stepped onto the
raised platform and sat down stiffly into the King’s seat. The Queen regained
her own seat and looked toward her mother, nodding her permission to continue.
The Queen Mother sat up straighter, her posture ever more prominent.

“Unmask the prisoners,” she
commanded. Evan watched as Hector and Alcander, who he hadn’t noticed was in
the room, walked up to each of the two prisoners and simultaneously unhooded
them. Thea Thanatos’ eyes were unmoved and trained on the Queen Mother, her
face set in stone as she gazed up at the familiar woman.