Chapter Two – Demagogue
Mare Serinitas – Seat of the Empire was a flourishing capital. A large dome enclosed the city, a structure of glass and steel, built in the ages when terraforming was only a mere glimmer in humanity's mind. Sentiment alone kept dome in place, as a relic of the past glories of technology.
Below the dome, buildings great and small built of steel and silicate and asphalt avenues stretched across the wide expanse; and at the center of everything—the Moon Palace.
It stood aloof and glorious against the inky darkness of space looming large and rambling with two large towers it stood aloof and magnificent. It was the only structure that was not under the stricture of the ancient dome.
Before the Moon left the shadow of the Earth Mr. Rogers, owner of a bookshop nestled between alleys, was already awake. He was old and tired and for the briefest of moments entertained the notion to while away the day in bed no sooner had these thoughts crowded his mind, Rogers sat-up and banished them in distaste.
He was a creature of habit by training and inclination.
After a good wash and a change of clothes, he opened his shop at precisely 7:15, as he had done for the past half century. Settling on his chair Rogers stared at the too clean roads and sidewalks. At precisely quarter past seven Rogers heard the hum of the High Guard's patrol vehicle. The High Guards, like him, were also creatures of habit.
Rogers watched the vehicle in silence, an hour later it would be the police's turn to patrol the area. Unbidden Rogers remembered all the people who snorted and dismissively declared that the High Guards were nothing but over glorified policemen. He remembered the anxious days that followed looking for them but he never did see them again.
It was only when the High Guard Patrol passed and Rogers finally felt his shoulder's ease. It was time to prepare for business.
"You're late."
The bland tone of voice annoyed Hailer, he had come a long way from the boy soldier he was, has learned long ago the games required in court and thus his face was equally blank. "My apologies, your Grace."
"Make sure it does not happen again, Colonel." Duke Cho said and turned away presenting his back to Hailer. Hailer rolled his eyes but kept his face neutral when Cho turned to glance at him.
"Lead on, your grace."
Cho frowned at him but stepped forward nonetheless; Hailer nodded to a Palace guard, then paused before the enormous, ornate double doors that led to the royal court. The double doors alone were worth more than three generations of Hailer men could ever afford it was made of flawless silver carved inlaid with rubies, amethysts, and heliotrope and at its center was an immense moonstone cut to the likeness of the Queen.
Slowly, an aperture sliced the moonstone in half, dividing the doors until light spilled from the room beyond the double doors. The buzz of conversation and polite entendres filled the silent halls, then the doors swung fully revealing the magnificence of the court.
Behind the chatter was the music of an orchestra, no doubt summoned by a lord to please his compatriots.
A lord, young with the same arrogant posturing as the other nobles, promptly pounced on the duke. For a moment Hailer pitied Cho but the moment passed when he remembered why he was being forced to join the court this night instead of staying home with his daughter.
"Your Grace!" The young lord said, lilting his voice in probably what he thought as a Majestic Way of Speaking. "How are you?"
"Very well, Lord Lisha."
"I heard you just came from Himalia." Lisha waved his hand, "How was it this time of the year? I was supposed to join my family but other matters arose."
"It was… interesting." Cho said in a far blander tone Hailer's ever heard.
Hailer tuned off the conversation and set a course away before any of the lords noticed his arrival. If he had his way he would have less of these functions, preferring the familiar dangers of battle or preferably the company of his daughter. He didn't like associating with the nobility with their petty games vying for the favor of the Queen… or her bed. His lips compressed with disgust.
"Colonel!" A voice called. Hailer glanced to his side and saw a young woman, some daughter of a noble house he didn't recognize, in a yellow gown approach him. "Congratulations to your victorious campaign."
"Thank you, my lady."
Hailer watched, wary, as the young woman inclined her head. "That is a lovely medal, sir."
Oh, great. Hailer immediately began scanning the avenues of retreat.
"I do so like a man in uniform." The young woman leaned forward, as if to brush his jacket of dust. "And dark blue does suit you—"
Hailer caught her wrist and gently pushed it back. "I suggest you pull back. Your play acting has gone far enough, young lady."
She gasped, looking outrage, wearing an expression he knew as the 'You'll be sorry, I'll tell my daddy about you!' look. He didn't say anything more and made his escape, he really hated royal functions. Hailer grimaced with distaste, the girl looked only several years older than his daughter for the goddess' sake! No sooner had he turned away he spotted a tableau of women stalk towards him he scanned the adjoining area for a means of escape.
"Her majesty arrives!" Announced a voice in a sotto voce whisper.
Hailer sent a prayer of thanks for the Queen's timely arrival. There was a sudden scramble as the lords and ladies began to position themselves, the orchestra muted their instruments and dropped to their knees. Hailer breathed a sigh of relief at the sudden silence and advanced to his position beside the steps of the dais.
Even without having to look Hailer knew the exact moment the Queen entered the court. The prickling on the back of his neck told him as much.
The Queen had presence, no doubt. Regal and stately in pale blue gown her cool gaze graced the court, her every step was measured in time with her long Staff of Office she held. Her spun-gold hair was wrapped in accordance to the style of the Royal Moon Family, and her sigil glowed golden on her forehead.
As she passed him, Hailer bowed his head behind the Queen's train were her two most trusted advisors, both carried the Royal sigil, her relation to them wholly unknown.
She ascended the dais, and settled on the throne in one, graceful motion. Hailer felt the Queen's sapphires gaze rest on him, again his skin prickled, then it washed over the courtiers before settling on the magistrate.
"Her Majesty will now seek audience with the court."
Several seeking favor with the Queen stepped forward airing petty complaints, the Queen heard their complaints and dismissed them with succinct statements that committed nothing. The nobles soon caught on to the Queen's mood and fell silent.
Tension tickled Hailer's senses more used to barrage fire than the kind of tension that lurked in the Queen's presence.
"Who is next?" The Queen asked, her impassive gaze sweeping the room.
"I am," A strong clear voice announced. Heads turned to see a young man step forward. Ah. Hailer leaned forward this would be interesting.
"It is the young viscount Al' tren Rhy son of the late viscount J'aspe Rhy—"
"I know him, magistrate." The clear, humorless tone diminished any importance the magistrate held in court. "Speak, Lord Al'tren."
"Your Majesty, I have come with concerns regarding your colony in Mars."
"I know whereof you speak, Lord Al'tren, speak of your concerns."
Hailer watched the boy take-in a steadying breath. "Your Highness, currently the situation in Mars is volatile—"
"When has it not been, Lord Al'tren?"
Jeering laughter rose from the courtiers but it fell quickly upon seeing the Queen's quelling stare. Hailer felt for the boy, his embarrassment was palpable, after a long beat Al'tren continued.
"Your majesty the High Guards do nothing but add to the tension. They strike fear to the populace. There has been great demand for the High Guards to withdraw, since Mars has its own Planetary Guard."
"You wish to withdraw the military powers of the empire from Mars?"
In a soft tone of voice that indicated it was far from a question. "Such a young boy you are."
Al'tren flushed. "It is the wish of the people."
"Are there anymore concerns of my people?"
"Yes, your highness, as the court knows Mars has been subject to famine," He faltered, swallowing before continuing. "There are still large areas where food is sorely lacking. We- I request an increase of budget allocation. We are in need of your help, your majesty."
There was a long beat. Beads of sweat began to form on Al'tren's forehead but he continued to eye the Queen, he was a competent young man, if overtly righteous. Hailer respected a man, whom convictions mean more than riches. Poor chap, he will never survive in court, just like his father.
"The request of High Guard removal is denied," the Queen said finally breaking the silence. Al'tren took the blow stoically. "Your request for budget increase is accepted."
A murmur of surprise rose from the courtiers they rose discreetly on their toes to observe the young man, who garnered the Queen's favor.
Shock overcame Al'tren's young face he obviously did not expect the Queen to grant any of his requests. The Queen turned to one of her advisors and whispered to him. The advisor nodded.
"It is done, viscount, Al'tren." She said, a pale smile curving her lips. "Take your blessings when they come, Young lord."
"Th-thank you, your highness."
The Queen inclined her head benignly, dismissing the boy she lifted her gaze from Al'tren and shifted it to the slim, bland figure of the man next to Hailer. "Duke Cho, what of our trade?"
The subject seemed to arrive from nowhere but Hailer felt that the Queen's main purpose hinged on the topic she set forth.
"Trade has gone down considerably due to the recent attacks of the Corsairs," Cho said, taking the jibe in stride. Hailer has yet to see him off guard perhaps the reason why he was the Queen's favored duke.
"Still, Duke? Mere pirates, and still they hound our trade? The Empire's protected ships?" The Queen's eyes bore on Cho, "Colonel Hailer."
He stood at attention, startled. "Your majesty?"
"How is the insurrection on IO prime?"
A dangerous off balanced feeling rushed through him. He knew where this was going but he was sure this was not the reason Duke Cho invited him in court for. He was being pushed into a game he had no desire to participate in. The Queen knew the answer to the question because she herself had presented the new medal on his right breast but the Queen had asked him a question. "It has been crushed, your majesty."
The Queen gave the duke an indulgent, mocking gaze. "Colonel, perhaps you should guide the Duke in the proper handling of rebellious elements."
"Yes, my Queen."
The prickling sensation came over him again her gaze washing over him, cool, precise and measuring. Then she stood a figure of elegance floating away on the cool marble of the Royal Court, not bothering with niceties of court. The courtiers scrambled frantically to curtsy but she was gone.
"The audience is ended." The advisers announced needlessly and followed the path of their Queen.
Demos watched the Queen arrive. She entered the war room, glanced at the eight obsidian pillars running parallel the wall paneled monitors for the briefest of moments before she acknowledged him. "Demos."
He rose from his kneeling position and walked instep beside her.
"Majesty." The other praetors said in unison, rising from their seats and waited for the Queen to take her place before resuming their own. Demos studied his Queen, and once again thought how much she was like a statue than a woman at all with he eyes like chilled sapphire and unreadable face. Her eyes moved from one praetor to the other; Demos held his breath enduring the weight of her stare again the keen urge to flee filled Demos.
Helplessness, fear and loyalty warred fiercely but it was a futile battle, she held their very souls in the palm of her hands. We praetors, Demos thought, personally handpicked by the Queen for each of their greed, ambitions and specialties. Immeasurable wealth, seeming immortality, they were become Praetors, creatures whispered in the dark, more than folklore and less than legends. In turn she demanded only their loyalty, their complete and utter loyalty.
"Wolf is a problem," she said without preamble. "He is mocking me, attacking trade ships under the protective flag."
"His pattern of attack is unpredictable," Richter said.
A sudden loud, white explosion pushed against the Praetors, knocking them deeper in their seats. "Note, Richter, my astonishment. I, Praetor, am stunned, incredulous." The Queen mocked, her face still deceptively calm. "Aghast."
The silence was thick and forbidding. Only Zen'an the Mad dared speak. "La'O is broken."
"I did not doubt you." The Queen said, releasing them from their invisible stranglehold. "They all break."
Zen'an grinned. It was quick, vicious thing. "La'O sang, majesty, O such pretty verses." He glanced at the others. "He sang of the rebellious cells in each little cavern in Calliope."
"Colonel Hailer appears annoyed losing La'O." Commented Ria.
"The insignificant little High Guard is no concern of mine."
"Is La'O still alive?" Demos asked.
"He lives now only at my behest." Zen'an said and cackled running his fingers across his panel. Before them appeared a tri-dimensional representation of a grotesque large man, beside it were maps and texts flowing from one holographic screen to the other. "He tried suicide, he found to his dismay that I am severely skilled in the art of resuscitation."
A shudder of revulsion and fear passed through the Praetors, they were all of them ruthless but of all of them Zen'an was the only Praetor who enjoyed inducing pain.
"Good," the Queen said, dismissing the grotesque image.
"The other rebellions in Uranus and Saturn are at a head, majesty." Noel said, noticing the Queen's gaze fall on him. "It is primed for extermination."
"That's unwise." Said the silky voice of Artemis --one of the seldom-speaking advisers-- of the gold hair and same crescent likeness of the Queen. His eyes, orbs of blue were blank.
"He is correct." Luna, the dark haired, dark eyed woman concurred. It was expected, when one spoke, the other follows. But that was as far as their contribution went, always.
The Queen seemed amused, a dangerous thing in Demos' experience. "A rebellion is sometimes of use, we can trace its sources, its backers. Quash a rebellion in its infancy valuable information might be lost. The best, easiest way to kill a potentially dangerous rebellion is to let it fester let it exhaust itself until even the staunchest supporter will spurn the cause. They are they are like weeds, the rebels another will sprout in the long run. Why not use it to our advantage? Do you not think so, Noel?"
Noel spluttered.
"I trust this matter will be resolved accordingly? I really do so hate failure." She said, amicable in tone but for the chilling gaze and Demos' sudden awareness of the one empty chair in the table.
"The meeting is adjourned." Luna declared, frowning as if she had a headache. Demos blinked at a sign of expression on her usually blank face.
"Really, Luna?" Demos watched the Queen warily the calmness did not fool him the undercurrent of anger was deep in her voice.
"Yes." This happened on occasion, the dark haired advisor's abrupt decisions in behalf of the Queen. It was at these times that Demos could not help but wonder at Luna and Artemis' relation to the Queen. For who but family would dare speak against the Queen and still live?
"There is nothing more to discuss, highness." Luna clarified.
"Of course, Luna." The serene smile was far from warm. "Leave us."
Demos nodded to the other Praetors and moved away from the table, affording him a view of Zen'an licking his lips, in anticipation even as Demos noted the fear in his eyes.
It was, Demos mused, seeing the reflection of the Queen and her advisers on the obsidian pillars, a strange trinity.
The mines had several levels of underground chambers each level went deeper and deeper into the earth. Usagi knew this because of the glowing neon map posted on the rocky surface parallel on the tunnel entrance. She had stared at it long and hard in incomprehension searching in vain for ways of escape but Usagi couldn't make heads or tails of the map only that the angular lines kept boring down and spreading like wet ink staining paper. The level where Usagi was just a blot of spot on the map at least she could figure out where the level was. Unlike the first few days after her recovery when everything was a blur of movement and the soft chink-chink sounds of picks hitting stone, what she did remember is being sick, or actually how it felt being sick and in pain, twisting in the scratchy sheets seeking warmth and finding only a laughable imitation of heat from the pipes running under her bunk.
The old woman labored to bring her back to health and she did a superb job from what little Usagi remembered snatches of warm, callused hands on her forehead crooning songs that Usagi could barely make out.
So here she was with a pick balanced in her hand studying the craggy ice capped wall. Usagi breathed out, a mist appeared before her, suspended in the air and vanished .She reached out a gloved hand and touched the wall. Even through the glove Usagi could feel the rough texture of the wall, she moved her hand shaking the frost from the wall flecks of ice chipped and fell revealing the rough wall beneath it, gleaming dully in the blue lights.
A guard passed behind her, Usagi stiffened her hand clenching reflexively as she watched the bulky black clad guard make his rounds, he beat his rod on his hand in a rhythm only he could hear as he rounded a corner and vanished from sight, Usagi felt a hitch in her lungs and realized she stopped breathing. She breathed deeply, breathing in the damp cold air.
She raised the pick, felt the twinge of stretched muscle and bruises then completed the arc down to the wall, chips of ice and rock flew around her, the acrid taste of mud and ice filled her mouth Usagi choked and coughed and spat the muck from her mouth.
Usagi wiped the mud from her face she's always hated mud but now she hated it with a passion equaled only by her hate for the stolid blue lights. She hated the gooey way mud clung to everything, how it insinuates into every minute crevice and aperture of her winter clothes; hated how it felt inside her gloves, in her boots, in between her toes. It was worse than frost, which you could ignore and use to your advantage.
A rattling sound roused Usagi from her thoughts wouldn't her friends be surprised ---
Usagi crouched, halted the line of thought and reached for the rocks --the old woman called them silicates-- and threw them on the battered cart. The little girl guiding the levitating cart was flipping a chip of rock up and over and began whistling a jaunty tune so out of sorts with the mines it was incongruous. The little girl was a head taller than Chibi-Usa but her face, streaked with mud was hardly distinguishable a swift sharp pain that had nothing to do with her injuries hit Usagi. She backed a step.
She wanted to cry but found that she couldn't instead she returned to the mining, hitting the rock surface so hard dirt flew fast and heavy. Her friends would rescue her, somehow. It was just a matter of time. Somehow.
"Enough!" A hand stayed her pick, Usagi turned enraged and stopped. She tilted her head up and up suddenly aware of how short she was. A soft buzz sounded through the tunnel. "It's time for a meal."
"Uh… okay." Usagi squeaked weakly. The big man turned from her Usagi sighed in relief and scrubbed her face taking care to avoid the bandage around her head. She hunched her shoulders, her friends would save her 'til then she had to keep her head down, live.
Usagi took her place in line and shouldered the pick. Meanwhile she was hungry.
Anima hung around the entrance of the mess waiting for the girl she hummed a tune and smiled
disregarding the depressed air around most of the prisoners she finally spotted the girl and was relieved to see the bandages were still in place, it was hard to avoid infection in this place but the least she could do was reduce the chances of gangrene. Anima lifted her hand and waved. The girl returned her wave and broke from the line.
"Anima-sama?" The girl said in that strange way of hers. It took a while nursing the girl back to health and through that time spent in constant vigil Anima learned that the girl didn't speak the galactic common. It was a revelation there was not a planet in the system that didn't use Lunaris as the galactic common, the
Queen's mandate has seen to that.
"Our table, girl." The girl nodded. Another conundrum despite not speaking Lunaris she understood it perfectly. Anima had a feeling that the girl was far more perplexed than Anima in this regard. The girl followed her to the table. Jep saw them approached and promptly elbowed the others to make space.
Anima shimmied into the space, taking a moment to appreciate the heat radiating from the food spread before them.
"'Taters and beef today, grams." Informed Jep, handing the wooden bowl to Anima. The bowl slipped into her welcoming hands she sighed at the delicious warmth, good for her old bones. She piled the tater's on her plate and passed it on to the girl. The girl took the bowl and showing more enthusiasm in that one moment than she had for months, Anima's eyes widened at the amount of 'taters the girl stacked on her plate.
The girl must be famished after weeks of mashed tater's and soup. It was a good thing the girl was last in the queue.
The other occupants of the table glanced at each other before Jep pushed the meat platter. Anima didn't miss Jep's fleeting perusal of the girl, Anima took the food without comment and launched topics at random the other occupants of the table joined in the talk, drawing them from their quiet shells, anything to keep them from noticing the girl eating quietly beside her.
Usagi listened with half an ear to Anima's chatter as far as she was concerned it was background noise, everything was background noise nowadays. Days, that's funny in a kind of twisty way that's not. At least the food was warm and edible and when she didn't try too hard to make out the taste, delicious.
Her wrist hurt, Usagi visualized the wound underneath the swaths of bandage and cloth pockmarked into a shape she traced every sleep cycle staring at nothing when all her tears had dried or froze.
C175.
How many names did she have now? Four? One? Or Two?
Usagi and C175.
What was taking them so long? Shouldn't they be kicking down the doors and rescuing her? Mamoru needed her and the Crystal. Where were her friends?
Someone laughed she raised her head from the food and saw the people on her table laughing and Anima leading the laughter. Usagi's mind went blank at this burst of noise the mere fact that they could laugh didn't make sense.
There was a dynamic at work in the prison mine that she had yet to understand it was like there were two breeds of prisoners in the mines. The first breed was just like the men and women in the next table, hunched shoulders, pinched faces with a cloud of desperation Usagi knew all too well.
Then there were the people in this very table just like the man who stopped her from going berserk. People with straight backs people who laughed in this dim blue hell.
"Are you going to eat that?" Inquired the boy opposite her.
Usagi blinked. "Um."
"You've had your fill, Tiel." Anima said with a frown.
"She's not eating!" Anima raised an eyebrow. "Well, sure she was siphoning the food but that was seconds ago and the heat… fine, how about three matchsticks for a piece of beef and two taters."
Usagi blinked. "Three matchsticks?"
The boy, Tiel, brought out four thin sticks and held it before her. "Alright, four."
Usagi looked at Anima helplessly. The old woman shook her head, swatted at Tiel's hand and said. "Leave her be, Tiel. You're wasting currency here."
Tiel grumbled but wasn't dissuaded, instead he turned to his seatmate. "Jep, you're a reasonable—"
"Nope."
Tiel sighed. "Fine."
Usagi suddenly giggled. Almost immediately, the occupants of her table turned to look at her, she hunched her shoulders. "Sorry."
Jep waved his hand. "No, it's good. I thought it would take you longer than that to finally get a smile out of you."
"What?"
"Ignore them, child and eat." Anima said, "You've lost a lot of meat on you and I'll be damned if you lose more. Go on." Her stomach took the moment to announce its existence with a loud grumble. "See? Even your insides agree."
Usagi really needed no prompting, it was food, after all. She scooped a big chunk of mashed potato before Anima who looked on satisfied and ate.
The meal ended with a soft buzz, the guards began to round them up. "Back to the grind again," Tiel said, sounding jaunty and unconcerned. Usagi stared at him but Anima had patted her back then pushed her.
"Not to sound cantankerous, child, but you're holding up the line."
Usagi blushed and walked on, taking her pick from a guard and found herself walking back to the hell that had become her life. When the work hours finally ended and they were finally allowed to leave the accursed mines Usagi fell boneless in her bunk, every muscle in her body screaming in pain, her mind too numb and all she could do was stare at the engravings notched above the piping above her. She ran her hand over it once, felt the rough grain and counted the number of notching. There were fifty all in all, before whoever it was who occupied this bunk before her, had stopped counting the years he was imprisoned here.
It should have sent a chill down her spine, but the damn mine was too cold that she either wasn't able to distinguish between fear and cold anymore, or probably she just didn't care. Her forehead itched, and she reached up to scratch it but the bandage obstructed her. Usagi sighed.
Instead, she traced the burn mark on her arm, a new habit. She slipped her fingers inside the loose bindings and felt the grooves on her skin. This was her 'identity' the writing both alien and familiar (again the familiarity tickled her mind) it read: C175.
"Stop that." Admonished Anima, somewhere beside her.
"I will, if you could remove this." Usagi touched the bandage on her forehead. She didn't know if Anima could see her in the dark but Usagi wouldn't put it past her. "It itches."
"Once your wounds are healed I will remove it and not until then." Anima said.
What use would it be anyway, Usagi wanted to say but didn't, she was too tired to argue, tomorrow would be the same thing, until the day her friends finally found her. She tried not to think how long that would be accomplished or the gaping well of emptiness inside her. Usagi turned over and murmured good night even if she didn't mean it.
The girl didn't sleep Anima didn't really expect her to, not after enduring week after week of the girl's quiet sobs that went for her sleep but Anima answered in kind, more to the intention and not the spirit.
There were decisions to be made. Anima studied the silhouette of the girl, remembered the soft hands that were now callused. No one remained as they were but somehow Anima could not quite reconcile it with the girl without a measure of sadness.
In the gloom, watching and listening to the mourning of a life once lived Anima came to a decision. She would never know the wheels she set in motion, the lives changed with a decision she determined. She knew only of the girl, of the cold and the crescent sigil hidden under a strip of cloth. But then she was only a woman. What did she know of the games that were set in motion centuries before she was even born?