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Empire of Night 19
Elliza rubbed the stiff knot between her shoulders; Alex had made her life considerably busier, an impressive feat, all considered.
Now, the Dyrantoro military leadership had come suing for refuge and bringing tidings of the true terrible power of human weaponry….
She sighed, parliament would throw a fit, but she couldn’t deny their request, either. It was inconvenient timing, that was all; with the attempt on Alex’s life and her subsequent declaration of martial law, allowing foreign military leadership to board in the palace would look like suing for their intervention.
Honestly, maybe she ought, but, no, her problems were hers, and they would need to be solved with her strength. Alex’s suggestion weighed on her mind, of course, but she remained skeptical. On the other hand, war with the takers seemed inevitable, and war at home now seemed all too likely.
Her rule was more tenuous than it ought to have been, more tenuous, apparently, than she had believed. She couldn’t win a civil war and commit forces to a crusade in the heavens.
Lady Faragal agreed, and though not, herself, a great warrior, she had an undeniable acuity for stratagem and a sense for the tides of public opinion.
Elliza had no doubt the woman maintained her own network of spies and apparently quite an effective one.
It was good that she seemed to be loyal. That Alex was poised to marry her daughter was doubtless another of Lisril’s maneuvers.
It was more than a little surprising; Lisril had always seemed disinterested in politics. But, perhaps, that was part of her genius. The whole of the Empire now turned upon Elliza’s acceptance of an, admittedly only implied, offer of marriage. And she had done much to make it a tempting proposition at that.
Alex, though, was still very much an unknown quantity. She liked him; he was attractive, easy to get along with, and possessed an intriguing facility with killing. Yet, she sensed, if not deceit, then certainly that there was much he held back.
Perhaps if she knew the right questions… but she evidently didn’t. She knew Alex was active, though, the day after he’d arrived, the delegation from Earth had suggested a faith exchange. It couldn’t have been a coincidence, he had something to do with it, but she couldn’t divine his intent.
In any case, it was a subject for her aunt, whose letters came daily and grew more insistent with each missive. She couldn’t put it off any longer; she had to make the time. Tomorrow, she would go tomorrow and bring Alex with her if she could. Her aunt was exceptionally sensible; she would make a fair assessment of him.
She pushed into her personal suites, where her family spent most of their time, now that their work was delayed. Her family. There was that, too.
She had sisters, actual sisters, of course, and her father, as any man of status, had been attended by his many wives. Yet. She had never really known any of them.
Her sisters, the few her mother had carried before her untimely demise, and father’s other wives had been kept occupied elsewhere in the empire. Mainly in the frontiers, to avoid problems with succession.
Had her mother lived, it might have been otherwise, but she hadn’t, and so Elliza had mostly been raised apart from them. The closest she had to a sister, spiritually, was Lisril.
Perhaps even the closest thing to a mother, much as it pained her to admit it. Elliza adored her mother, looked up to her, wanted to be every bit the leader of women and military commander her mother had. Yet, did she know her mother, love her? She had never had the chance; there wasn’t even anyone to blame, to take revenge upon. She, and Elliza’s father, had simply been lost at sea, called back home by the Lady.
Lisril was at the table, playing a game of cards. On the couch, Alex was curled up with Rosslln, a positively angelic smile on his face.
Elliza felt a pang of guilt at doubting him. It was ridiculous; her concerns were entirely justified. Yet, he saw her, and his face lit up. “Eli,” he cried.
Her heart melted; whatever her concerns, she couldn’t doubt the sincerity of his joy at seeing her. After all, Lisril didn’t lie.
It begged the question if his love and fidelity were true, did she even need to be concerned at his designs?
She pushed her worries away, far too easy a task, and joined him on the couch, taking his hand. “Alex,” she said, “I must meet with my aunt tomorrow; I’d still like you to come with me.”
He glanced at Rosslln, then over to Lisril. “I have nothing better to do,” he said, “can I bring my women?”
She laughed; it was a strange question, one that no Dyrantisa man would ask. Of course his women would accompany him. Yet, his concern for her consent was charming. “I don’t think that should be a problem,” she said, “the more the marrier, besides, aren’t they my women, too?”
“I guess they are.” He smiled, and she reciprocated, reaching out to run a hand through his hair, gently pulling his long ponytail toward her.
“I’ve never seen a man with such pretty hair,” she said.
Rosslln giggled at that, nuzzling against his neck from the other side. “His eyes are wonderful, too.”
Elliza covered her envy with a smile. It seemed so easy, so natural for Rosslln. So why was she holding herself back? She wished it was a question with a difficult, complicated answer. But it wasn’t; her marriage, when, where, and with whom, held political significance. Her life wasn’t hers to do with as she pleased.
“They are,” she agreed, “but I think his hair is the most dazzling thing about him.”
He chuckled. “You don’t have brunettes on Nyx?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said, “primarily black hair; some have hair like mine.” She tossed her dark-blue mane, which she always thought complimented her powder-blue skin quite well. “Some a dark purple. But you….” She ran the ponytail between her fingers. “Your hair is amazing, a beautiful light brown, all shot through with starlight.”
“What?” he asked, “that’s the first I’m hearing.” He twisted around to look at Lisril. “Lisril, is my hair weird?”
She looked up, bewildered. “No,” she said, “quite the same as any other brunette; your eyes do it too, a little. I think there are flecks of brown in them.”
She frowned. “You mean to tell me you can’t see it?”
He shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”
“That’s a shame,” Elliza said, “it was a gorgeous sight, you standing there in the snow, hair shimmering like the sky on a cloudless evening.”
He smiled, “well, at least I was able to leave an impression on you.”
She licked him. “You did, in more ways than one.”
She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. It was easy and comfortable; he hadn’t asked a thing of her.
It occurred to her, just then, he hadn’t made any demands upon her time or required the usual wooing or gifts; when she’d twisted his arm, he’d made a request so ridiculous he couldn’t have believed she would consider it.
Was this how he felt? This easy comfort, free from pressure and demands.
He was in danger, probably, no, certainly for no reason other than being close to her. It wasn’t fair; he was gentle and affectionate, no woman who knew him could ever raise her hand to him.
It was her fault; she had brought misfortune upon him. Lisril’s words echoed in her mind, was it so hard? Being a woman? Clearly, it was, for her.
An arm closed around her, strong and comforting, she looked up at him; could Dyrantoro read minds, too?
“Orange light?” he muttered to himself, staring into the fire.
He couldn’t, it seemed, peer into her thoughts. Rather, comfort and support seemed to come as naturally to him as taking a breath.
He turned to her suddenly. “Do I glow? I mean, my skin.”
“Not as much as a Dyrantisa lady,” she said.
He frowned, and she put her hand on his chest. “Are you worried? You needn’t be; you’re gorgeous.”
His hand joined hers over his heart, and he smiled at her, “thank you.”
She looked down at the hand covering her’s, her free hand joined his, and she pulled fingers hand to her lips, eyes squeezed shut.
“Eli?” worry entered his voice, “what’s wrong?
She shook her head; she couldn’t give it up. Every evening she would go about her business and the time away gave her time to reflect on the madness of it all.
They had known each other a matter of days, yet- “Nothing,” she said, “all is well; you don’t need to worry.”
She needed to make a decision, one way or the other. Heavy as the weight might be, she was a woman, and it was her lot to bear it and do so in a manner that would save him the pain of it.
By tomorrow, she would tell her aunt her intentions; she wouldn’t get much sleep that night. Sudden? Not at all; she was the Empress; the people looked to her for surety and confidence. Decisiveness. How could she provide that to the Empire if she couldn’t even muster it in herself?
Besides, if she did want to pursue him, to deserve him, what was it Lisril had said, she’d show some spine? Had that been just her usual venom or a slight bit of motherly advice?
Either way, if it were contemptible in that most fair and gentle species, weak and frail as they were. How much more so in the race of women?
So she would decide that night and either rebuff him, despite any difficulty or pursue him with all her vigor.
She gazed into his starry green eyes, one way or the other.
“Who was that woman,” she asked, “you know the one I’m talking about, and what was wrong with her?”
“Alden,” he said, “she’s our number two general, and nothing, she’s just an aug, not the bioaugs I’ve got, an old mechanical one. As I understand it, she went cyborg even before we could do humanoid chassis; her brain’s not plastic enough to transfer anymore, so she’s stuck in that old U-frame.”
“Cyborg, plastic?” Elliza shook her head. “What?”
“She replaced her body with a machine,” he said, “though, I guess all our bodies are sort of machines. Anyway, now she’s too old to change again, and she’s stuck in an old, obsolete body.”
“Replaced her-” Elliza shook her head, “you mean to say that wasn’t a person?”
“No,” he said, “if I’d meant that, I would have said it. Alden’s still human, just- in a mechanical body.”
It was a stunning revelation, and Elliza wasn’t sure she could accept it. “To cast off the good Goddess’ gifts so cavalierly.”
“Is it so strange?” Alex asked, “say-” He frowned. “Say I have poor vision, almost no one does anymore, we’ve cured that, but say I did. Would wearing spectacles be a perversion of God’s plan?”
“That’s not the same thing!” Elliza said.
“It very much is,” Alex said, “though- You and I were not born capable of coping with the cold outside, so we wear heavy clothing to protect ourselves.”
“We, humanity,” he gestured between them, “have always augmented our natural gifts and in so doing spread our dominion far and wide. The only difference now is we’re better at it. Besides, you were open to the idea just a couple of days ago.”
Elliza fell silent, he was right at that, but that had sounded a much smaller thing.
Besides, could it be so wonderful if the process had produced that Ogre. She eyed him. “Have you- no, of course, you said as much, what alterations have you undergone?”
He batted his lashes at her. “My pretty green eyes.”
She made no attempt to hide her shock. “Really?”
“Well,” he said, “my parents did, back before I was born. Back then, it was cutting edge; it started with curing genetic disorders, mostly the fatal ones, but it didn’t stay there. My parents were early adopters, went pretty far out of their way to make sure I’d be healthy, smart, good-looking. You know, give me the best shot.”
She looked him up and down, but he hadn’t sprouted any auxiliary limbs. “Anything else?”
“Plenty,” he said, “my muscles aren’t muscle; my bones aren’t bone. I’ve got armor under my skin. We’ve come a long way since those U-frames; you can do almost as good reprogramming your body to replace your bones with graphene and neurons with fiberoptic. Pretty soon, you’ll be able to do better. And if you don’t like it? One shot, and you’ve got good old calcium and dendrites back.”
Elliza mulled the revelation over, closed her eyes, and when she opened them, he was just a radiant as he’d been when they closed. “Maybe I overreacted.”
He took her hands, “no,” he said, “I’m sorry, I should introduce the idea more gently.”
“You did,” Elliza said, “days ago, let’s not forget. The fault is mine, now let’s leave it alone.”
He nodded. “Alright, we’ll leave it alone.”
Lisril joined them then, falling down onto the couch. “Alex,” she said, “you said that woman was too old to change bodies. But you’re rather young for how old you are.”
An odd turn of phrase, but it didn’t seem to phase him. “Yes, but that process isn’t approved general use yet; besides, it doesn’t work without the assistance of the endocrine system.”
“Why not?” Lisril asked.
He shrugged. “Sorry, I have a real doctorate. You’ll have to ask an MD.”
“What are you talking about?” Elliza asked.
“Our husband,” Lisril said, “is one hundred and ninety years old.”
‘Our husband,’ if she had doubts, Lisirl certainly didn’t. Not that she’d been given any reason to. Elliza looked skeptically at Alex, but he nodded. “It’s true; I’m an old man.”
Elliza frowned, but Rosslln, who had busied herself playing with his hair and placing licks on his chin, said, “who cares? Look at him.”
Elliza laughed. “You should,” she said, “he’s found the Fountain of Youth.”
He grinned, “I see your interest is piqued.”
“Of course,” she said, “eternal youth? Who wouldn’t be interested? You’d have to be a fool.”
She sighed. “We have an early evening tomorrow,” she said, “you should go to bed.”
He frowned. “Serra.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Elliza said, “explain the situation, she’ll understand; my aunt is a powerful woman and rather more austere than myself. Making a good impression is important. Get some rest.”
He nodded. “Alright,” he said, “alright. Good night, Eli.”
“Good night, Alex,” she stood, helping him to his feet, and pulling his fingers to her lips.
She straightened, squeezed his hand, and, reluctantly, let him go.
“Rosslln,” Lisril said, “run ahead and get the fire going for Alex.”
“Rosslln,” Lisril said, “run ahead and get the fire going for Alex.”
