As Kim's predicament increases, a TARDIS is approaching...
I know, I know... Please be patient with this - there is a little more Doctor in this part, but he is going to play a much larger role than Kim ever expected... (Nervous grin...)
Part 2
The route to the central palace, where the Emperor himself dwelled, was long and complex. In spite of the people's love for their Emperor, security was so tight that even now, wearing the official attire and guided by palace staff, obviously having entered the palace grounds through another checkpoint, they were withheld at several places for routine control.
Kim hated this almost as much as she hated the incarceration following being a princess and a daughter of the Emperor.
Oh, they treated her with great respect and their apologies did not seem token at all - in fact she was quite certain that she saw fear in the eyes of a younger guard at one of the posts. But then, contrary to the strained relationship between father and daughter, she still was a direct descendant of the Emperor. Being a hybrid, called a bastard by some, she was still in the direct bloodline of a man who was known both as a great ruler, a slave to the Codes and an unforgiving foe to those daring to cross him.
The code, yeah.
Millennia ago, when humankind had but one planet, there had been a small but obviously significant land: Japan, where old traditions vowed by the codes of the warriors, the codes of honour and the codes of the sword. Bushido, it was called. And as part of the events leading to the forming of the Honshu II Empire, people had strived to attain former glory and honour. Bushido had been adapted into the new Empire and was now part of the very foundation under the throne.
Honshu was, in Kim's opinion, a bastard as much as she was. Some people lived by the codes, even some parts of the military were trained according to code, knowing both modern warfare and ancient sword handling. The imperial family were all expected to live their entire lives according to the Codes and yet, Kim knew many people in the rest of the world lived normal, happy lives. Yes, they knew the Codes, learned about them at school, but they did not have to submit to them one hundred percent the way any Takita did.
This was odd, but it was what a vast majority had demanded during the revolution, 342 years ago, and since then, there had truly been very little upheaval to the existing system of totalitarian imperial regime, as conducted by a straight line of descendants of the House Takita.
"His imperial majesty awaits you!"
The statement, made by a guard in the traditional samurai uniform and still carrying an impressive automatic rifle along with the katana sword, drew Kim from her sombre thoughts and back to the present. The man bowed to her, a model of the astute samurai, loyal beyond any doubt and putting his life up for the Emperor should the need arise.
Now was not the time for anybody to subject their lives. Not quite literally anyway. Several others drew open the sliding doors with a soft whisper and kneeled before the young princess, offering her admittance to the holiest of holies: the Imperial Quarters and presently the room in which her father was waiting.
Inin Takita was a small, compact man, seated on a small stool on a dais at the end of the room, surrounded by his advisors and councillors and presently listening to the tranquil sounds of the shamisen as played by three skilled female musicians, supported by the hoarse whimper of a bamboo flute. He was wearing kimonos almost casual for his style, still lending little to the normal interpretation of the term, and his face showed little emotion save a touch of liking of the traditional music.
Kim also loved the old Japanese music. She had some skill with the shamisen herself, but nowhere near what these musicians were playing. Expressionless in their mimics and almost rigid in posture, they allowed their instruments to have all the attention of the listeners, and even if she had been summoned here, against her wishes and after what could only be seen as another failed attempt at disobedience, Kim stopped inside the room while the door was whisked closed behind her.
Accepting the codes of conduct, so important to her father and to everybody here and so much a part of her upbringing, the young sheerar half-breed sat down quietly on a cushion near the door and waited while the gagaku, the music for the imperial court, continued.
The music played for a few more minutes and then came to a halt. There was no applause, but the Emperor nodded his consent and several of the other people smiled at the musicians, who bowed deeply before the dais and then got up and left the room quietly, bringing their instruments. Applause was not part of the Code, and it was also not necessary as the musicians knew full well from the faces around them that their art had been appreciated.
As a door at the one side of the room was opened, allowing the musicians to leave, the Emperor cast a glance towards his daughter and gave a short, low order to the people around him. Most of them departed, leaving behind only two advisors and Kim with the Emperor.
As the doors slid shut behind the others, Inin Takita IV beckoned for his daughter to come forth and she did, bowing in full accordance with customs and then sitting on a small, round cushion right in front of the dais.
"You cause your father, your Emperor, much grief", observed the one advisor coolly. Kim knew him well, he was a relative, an uncle, by the name Ashim and she was almost certain that it was his poison tongue that had destroyed Tagreen.
"He causes me grief, uncle," Kim answered, meeting his dark brown eyes with her own flaring feline emeralds.
"Hush now, Kitten," said the other advisor, making Kim bristle at the word 'kitten'. He was an elderly man by the name of William and he was one of those who had retained his non-Japanese name even if assuming Japanese style names had been considered a wise career move in later years. He had always been kind to Kim, but in a degrading fashion giving her the feeling that he didn't really consider her a sentient being. "You speak out of place, but I am sure it is the medicine that still clouds your brain. I am sure the Emperor will forgive your harsh words, would you only stop these useless gestures."
"This day was to be a joyous day," remarked Ashim. "Your father has great news for you, and yet you dishonour him by..." he searched for the words. "By running off like some convict, escaping the just grasp of the penitentiary."
"My father," observed Kim in an icy tone, "dishonours me by having a poisonous uncle and a senile old man speak his mind to me instead of addressing me himself."
"Kitten, you are quite rude," William said in an offended voice.
"I am neither kitten nor any more rude than all three men in this room," Kim said quietly. "Father, speak your mind to me. Tell me why my desires and wishes are against your godlike will and allow me to leave so that you may enjoy your gagaku again. Don't let these men speak your mind; I should suspect that you can do so yourself."
Inin Takita had been silent during the exchange, but now he lifted a hand in a small gesture, effectively stopping the advisors from answering to Kim's words. He gazed at his daughter, his wrinkled face unreadable and unperturbed.
"You know full well, why your act is frowned upon, daughter," he finally said in a tired voice.
"Yeah, I do. You have spent fortunes teaching me, educating me, developing my character, personality and indeed my spirit, and now you are regretting the experiment because the kitten has matured into a wilful woman, refusing to follow your every whim."
"You are a princess, and an attractive one," the Emperor growled. "And as such, your mind should be honed and your skills great, so that you can support your husband in whatever ways he sees fit. These are the obligations in your rank, daughter."
"I can see why I should play musical instruments and know how to wear a proper kimono without tripping in the heeled sandals, making a fool of myself," Kim answered back. "It makes me both pretty to look at and entertaining to boot. But what's the point in my martial arts skills, my licenses to a dozen different vehicles and my general education in history, culture and literature, if all I have to do is avoid embarrassing my coming husband?"
"You are a princess," Ashim remarked, "great skill and knowledge are expected of you."
"Oh shut up," Kim spat. "Father, all I ask is the freedom that so many others have. And anyway, who would want me as a spouse anyway? I..." she hesitated. "I cannot bear them children, I cannot grant them their desired heirs with imperial blood in their veins. You know that."
"You have asked me this before, daughter," Inin Takita said, looking intently at the feline woman in front of him. "And I have little new to add to accommodate the unfortunate ideas your former teacher put into you. I do, however, have one new thing to say. Regarding your infertility, your problems have been solved."
Kim had expected this to be just another tedious conversation, ending with either one or both of the advisors telling her off as if she was ten years old, followed by her accusing her father of a lot of things he had done and a few he probably had not. But this piece of news silenced her utterly and she looked at the Emperor with a mixture of disbelief and hope in her suddenly slightly stinging eyes.
Perhaps there still was hope? A child of her own? She had no desire for children just now, but the thought that she could never conceive, never hold her own flesh and blood in her arms, had always tormented her. At least most people had a choice. Most humans, anyway.
"Oh, that made you hold your tongue, kitten?" mocked William in an anything but decent tone. "Perhaps you may yet learn your place and ways. Now if I may -"
"You may not," interrupted the Emperor. "Leave us, both of you." He noted their hesitation and gave an icy stare into the room, not at anybody particular. "Now!" he barked.
Ashim and William were close advisors, even friends, but they were also so much into the Codes that they did not press the Emperor's patience any further. They both got up, bowed deeply to him and then a little less to Kim, and then they quietly left through a slide door behind the dais. Kim knew that contrary to common misconceptions, they would not be stopping just outside the thin paper door to eavesdrop. That would be unthinkable within the imperial palace.
So instead of fearing the ears of the advisors, she tried to make herself relax. A few discrete deep breaths and a silent prayer to an ancestor whom she didn't really believe was listening and then she met her father's deep eyes.
"William is a warm man," breathed the Emperor. "But young Ashim still has the recklessness of youth. I remember that feeling, daughter. Recklessness. It may come as a surprise that I had it too, almost as much as you do. Ashim thinks it is the sheerar side of you, but I recognise myself in your spirits. That craving, that yearning, I had it all when I was your age."
Kim was quiet. This was an unusual side of her father, who rarely spoke to her in any personal tone. She could barely remember being alone with him before and even if she did feel for remarking that Ashim was not young - he was forty six - she kept her mouth shut.
"Yes, I can tell. You are wondering why I am not merely appointing your punishment and then getting rid of you, as I have done the last several times you have left the palace without neither escort nor permission." He actually smiled a warm smile at her. "Is that not so, daughter? You expected to be taken down for renewed conditioning, isolation, meditation or something other of the sort, I have usually decided upon when you have acted against me."
She suppressed a shiver. Reconditioning was a very nice word for a week in the hospital wing, strapped down and regularly electrocuted until she could bear it no more and begged for mercy, promising to go back, wear the proper garments and speak in the proper tone. Oh it worked, but only for so long before her eyes were drawn towards the outer walls again. And isolation or meditation, four or more weeks in a small room 'to contemplate the codes', having only the written codes and a diet of cold rice, vitamin pills and water to sustain her, attended by servants who did not speak to her under pain of death. At least, so she believed they were, as none had ever broken that order.
She was certain that these methods, very reminiscent of what others would call brainwashing, were invented especially for her by 'young' Ashim.
"Today is, as Ashim said, a joyous day," the Emperor continued after a brief pause. "And I will not have it spoiled by sending you into treatment. Let's see if the good news will not suffice to solve the problem, hmmm?"
"Yes, father." Kim's voice was far more humble than she had intended it to be. But the chances, the prospects... It seemed that Ashim was not entirely satisfied with whatever the old man was implying and that, in itself, made it worthwhile to listen to.
"I have decided to have you marry Count Matsudaira Nobunaga!"
Kim just stared at him.
"Count Matsudaira is an old man," the Emperor continued unabashed. "He has two wives and several concubines and all the heirs he is likely to need; so your little problem won't matter."
Kim still just stared at him, her face expressionless.
"I have arranged that you will become his third wife. He is fond of beauty and he is a good personal friend of mine. He will become a good husband for you, I am sure."
Through a red haze, Kim heard somebody scream. For a moment, she understood neither who was screaming nor why the world was spinning. Perhaps it was a side effect of the drug she had been given earlier on. Other than a slight headache, she had never had any bad side effects before.
Then she realised that it was her own voice, tearing from her throat in a scream so much more feline than human.
And it was her own claws that were tearing through silk, cotton and skin, spilling the blood of the Emperor, Inin Takita IV, her father!
Hands.
Guards' hands.
Far less gentle than when they had prevented her dazed form from hitting the ground in an alley near a lime green car. Holding her down, restraining her.
Voices, calling for help.
Men, all over. More hands.
A sting. Wait, was that a syringe?
No!
No! No! No! No! No! No! No!
Nothing...
o o o
Kim was back in her imperial bed, the one with the silk, the cavernous surroundings and the smiling and yet uncaring servants. Beauties, every last one of them, and so totally engulfed into The Way and The Code that the mere concept of an individual thought, much less objecting to any given order, was unfathomable to them.
"Your highness?"
Allindra was different. Her words were the same as most of them, but her tone, her bearing and, more importantly, her eyes, gave her away.
"Your highness? Can you hear me?"
Kim could hear her very well, but she refused to answer. As long as her eyes were closed, she could pretend to be dreaming. Pretend that that was all it was - a dream. A filthy, ridiculous and utterly unrealistic dream!
Allindra was as close as Kim came to having a friend inside palace walls. She had been trained, educated and groomed by so many, and some she had grown to like, but all in all, people came and went.
There was Masako. She had been a teacher for Kim. Several years of literature, poetry, calligraphy and lots of girl talk. Masako had defied the Emperor's orders and told Kim things about the world outside the palace. Outside Honshu II.
As far as Kim knew, Masako was now stationed as a secretary at some desolate outpost on some mining planet far away. One does not go against the Emperor and get away with it. It was shortly after Masako's dismissal that Kim had her first taste of freedom.
Back then it had been easier. The guard did not question her authority when she demanded that the gates be opened for her. Nor did they try to stop her, even as she went into the teeming city, wearing the garments of commoners.
But when the Emperor found out, orders had been issued and many skilled men had searched for her. They found her quite easily, but she did not follow them back to the palace freely. Perhaps if they had not used the batons on the young man with whom she had shared a few words when they found her. If they had not immediately treated him as if he had assaulted a member of the imperial family. They had talked about the river that flowed through the city and through the park in which they were found.
"Your highness, you should try to awaken," Allindra's voice insisted. "It is important that you do."
No way!
She never got as far as to know his name; she only knew that he could recite poetry and that he most likely would have scars for the rest of his life. She didn't know if he had been punished further than that, nor if he understood what he had done wrong - that the sheerar girl had in fact been the Emperor's daughter.
Perhaps if they had not reacted that way, she would not have caused what councillor Ashim referred to as 'a scene'.
Next time she had been shot with tranquilizer darts. No scene.
The third time they had started the treatments, as if her craving for freedom was a symptom of some disease, something that could be treated with medicine and electricity. Ashim's idea, no doubt.
"Your highness," Allindras' voice sounded close. "You must wake up now. I know that you are awake, I can hear it."
Oh crap! She should have known that Allindra was not as easily fooled. Close to a friend, also because she was no fool and understood to play by the rules as far as it was necessary.
Kim opened her weary eyes and scanned the room moodily.
"Your highness," Allindra sighed. "I understand that you have been told happy news."
"Happy..." Kim muttered. "If you consider a convenient marriage to some old fart a happy development, I guess."
"You have caused your father -"
"Grief, yah, I know, Kim broke in. "And a few bruises as well, I suppose. I consider myself lucky that I didn't wake up in straps, electrodes at the ready. Was Ashim preoccupied when it happened?"
"Counsellor Ashim has not even suggested any, hmmm, treatments," Allindra assured, quietly helping her sit so that she could drink some water from a glass offered by the maid. "And what I was trying to say was that you have caused your father injury this time. He is with the doctors now."
"Good."
"Your highness should consider what is best in the current circumstances," the maid admonished. "Perhaps the Emperor has just not made up his mind yet, being with his surgeons still. Treatments or meditation can still be commanded, as can other things."
"Oh, but nothing that would damage my beautiful hide," Kim croaked. "Count Matsu-something-or-other is fond of beauty."
"Your highness..." Allindra whispered.
Kim gave in. She turned and threw herself into the only pair of arms within palace grounds that would welcome her and soothe her for no other purpose than to be there for her.
As she wept uncontrollably, she kept wondering if they weren't really the only such arms on the entire planet?
o o o
Meanwhile, almost the same time, but still another place - approximately.
Tegan considered herself a very patient person. She had waited for the Doctor to clear out the mess and, more importantly, the error in the system.
She had had seven cups of tea, several biscuits and, of all things, a cucumber sandwich. She had also read through several chapters of the book she was currently reading, only occasionally distracted in this by the recurring loss of light, orientation and stability of the TARDIS.
Now she had been violently thrown off her perch on the chair and sat on the floor, her bum sorer than she cared to admit and her eighth cup of tea spilled over the book, some of her clothes and parts of the floor.
She just sat there, patiently waiting, until the lights came back on. Then she looked at the Doctor with exasperation.
"How much longer before this crate stops behaving as if you were DUI?"
"DUI?" asked the Doctor, popping his head up over the console; now more in pieces than ever before. "What's that?"
"It's an abbreviation," Tegan explained, more than a little surprised that he actually listened. Normally she would count herself lucky if he showed any sign of having heard her, much less noticed her words. "Driving Under Influence, drunk driving, if you must."
"I'll have you know that I do not succumb to the abuse of alcoholic beverages," the Doctor commented in a voice strained from pulling at something below her line of sight.
"Still, the TARDIS is behaving a bit weird."
"Off course, the poor thing has been thrown of balance. A spot of trouble with the influx booster stabilizers."
"I see," Tegan muttered, biting her lower lip.
"You do?" The Doctor's head popped up over the edge again as he gazed at her, surprise evident in his face.
"No!"
"Oh." He disappeared again, obviously tugging at something.
"Have you tried kicking it?"
"Hmmm?"
"Kicking it," she said again. "Have you tried that?"
"Yes, it didn't work."
"Oh. Well, you could try it again…"
"We need vulcanized beta-cord," he explained patiently. "And before we get that, I cannot make the poor thing stop jumping a bit. She's not quite stable, you see. It has to do with-"
"So, where do we get this vulcanized beta-cord?"
"You know, I have absolutely no idea!"
Tegan wondered how it was that she sometimes liked and even admired the Doctor; when, at other times, she had this desperate urge to just kick him.
Like now.
"I'll make a few adjustments here and see if that brings us somewhere useful." He finally came all the way out from under the console and started to punch in numbers at it, excitedly watching as the central column continued to raise and fall in a steady rhythm, indicating that they were travelling.
Tegan knew better than to ask precisely where the Doctor and his craft were taking them this time.
o o o
To be continued…