FORTY-SIX

ELLI

I tried my best to climb all the steps myself, but they were built for a Korrigon, not a human—which meant they were twice as tall as any steps I’d ever climbed back on Earth. So with every step up, I felt like I was trying to climb into the cab of one of those ridiculously jacked-up pick-up trucks you see driving around in the country sometimes.

It only took a few steps for Sir to notice my trouble and offer to carry me. But I didn’t want him to. Looking around Sir Gra’multh’s swishing black robes, I could see that Clarissa was navigating the golden steps with ease—probably because she was so tall and graceful, she seemed to be half giraffe.

“Little one, let me carry you,” Sir murmured, leaning down to me.

“No,” I panted stubbornly, climbing yet another too-tall step. “I…can manage.”

“No, you can’t,” Sir said frowning. “But if you don’t wish to be carried, use your gravity belt to make yourself lighter and give me your hand.”

I did as he said and sure enough, it worked! Before I knew it, I was bounding up the steps, feeling like I was in one of those bouncy castles or maybe a trampoline. Only Sir’s hand in mine kept me from shooting up much higher than a single step, but he kept a firm grip on me and before I knew it, we had finally reached the top.

The golden throne was a huge piece of furniture that was big enough for three Korrigons to sit on side by side. It was very grand with lots of carvings and gems, but it didn’t look very comfortable. There was no padding and no cushions as far as I could see—just hard, cold, gold, which the Korrigons seemed to have an endless supply of.

The Sovereign who was sitting on the throne was clearly a woman, though to be honest, she didn’t look very different from a male Korrigon. She was tall and thin with short black hair and short, stubby horns that sprouted from her temples.

She looked younger than Sir, I thought, and much younger than Gra’multh, though it was clear from the serious look on her face she was trying to act much older than her age.

The Sovereign had the same full-black eyes as the others of her species and she was wearing the most elaborate golden robe I had ever seen. It was sewn all over with diamonds and rubies and emeralds and other precious jewels that were crowded so close together her entire outfit seemed to be one gleaming, many-faceted, gem. But again, though it was grand, it didn’t look very comfortable.

“Your Majesty,” Sir said, bowing his head low and I did the same. Beside us, I could see that Clarissa was also bowing low. Gra’multh, however, was barely inclining his head, which seemed disrespectful to me. But since the Sovereign didn’t say anything about it, I kept my mouth shut.

In fact, I intended to keep my mouth shut during this entire interview with the Sovereign and only speak when Sir told me to. He had told me over and over that I must not let my voice be heard until it was time for me to talk—speaking up at a different time might be reason for us to be expelled from the throne room. So I was determined to bite my tongue if necessary.

“You come before me today to decide the fate of the galaxy that some have called The Goddess’s Cloak,” the Sovereign said, when everyone was finished bowing. “And I understand that both of you have prepared presentations to show me.”

“We have indeed, Your Majesty,” Gra’multh said smoothly. “If I might be allowed to go first? At my age, I think it is my right. Also, I had much to do with bending the other planets of our own galaxy to Your Majesty’s will, so I think I can speak with authority on this subject.”

“Do you have any objections to letting Sir Gra’multh present first, Sir Barinthian?” the Sovereign asked Sir.

He shook his head and spread out one hand in an “after you” gesture.

“By all means, Sir Gra’multh, please proceed,” he said dryly.

“Very well then—I shall. If everyone could clear the way?” Gra’multh raised bushy white eyebrows and we all stepped aside. I couldn’t help thinking that with his beard and mustache and those eyebrows, he looked like an evil Gandalf, but then he started speaking and I forgot what I was thinking. Because as he spoke, his words were translated into images in the air in front of us that everyone could see.

Gra’multh spoke at length, but he barely touched on the Twelve Peoples at all. Instead, he talked about the riches to be gained when the Korrigons took over my galaxy. The mountains of gems and gold and platinum and the many precious natural resources that could be strip-mined from the various planets. When he did talk about the people whose planets he would be ruining, he merely said they were all primitive animals who would make excellent Mind-Controlled slaves.

As Gra’multh spoke and the shimmering piles of jewels and precious metals appeared in the air, I thought it looked like a greedy person’s wet dream. He also talked about the power the Sovereign would gain by ruling two galaxies instead of one and we got to see a picture of her standing in front of multitudes of people from many different planets, all bowing on their hands and knees to her. But didn’t she already have most of this? I mean, she was sitting on a literal pyramid made of gold—how much more did she need?

I looked at her face, trying to gauge how Gra’multh’s speech was affecting her, but her expression was unreadable, so I had no idea.

At last, the older Korrigon stepped back and bowed as the last of his thought-images faded from the space in front of the throne.

“And that, Your Majesty, is why we need to subjugate this little galaxy and bend it to your will. Thank you for listening to my presentation.”

“Thank you for your words, Overlord Gra’multh,” the Sovereign said, nodding regally. She looked at Sir. “And now, Overlord Barinthian, would you like to present your side?”

“I would indeed, Your Majesty.”

Sir stepped forward and began to speak. Just like Gra’multh, he was able to make his words into a presentation with vividly colored images that floated in the air so that everyone could see them.

Instead of talking about all the wealth and natural resources and slaves the Korrigons might get from my galaxy, Sir focused on the Twelve Peoples. He touched on all of them and their home worlds, showing the lush jungles and dry desserts of the Denarins and the way it took two males and one female on that planet to form a relationship. He spoke of the Majorans and talked about how their males were so deeply devoted to their females that their skin changed colors according to their chosen female’s moods. He talked about the fierce warrior clans of the Vorn and the Braxians and the diplomacy of the Eloins.

Sir spoke of the Cantors with their broad, feathered wings and showed them flying across their planet, a world of high cliffs and deep canyons where they soared on the rising currents and made love in mid-air. He touched on the tenacity of the Naggians, living on their frozen world where it was only warm enough to grow anything two months out of the year. He even talked about the humans of Earth and I was proud to see the images his words formed because I had written most of that section myself, and it was extremely accurate.

“And so, Your Majesty,” he finished as he came to the end of his speech. “It would be a crime against the Twelve Peoples to attack them and ravage their home worlds, just to feed our own greed. We have more than enough already—we do not need to ruin their lives to gain even more resources and wealth than we could ever possibly use.”

I saw Gra’multh narrow his eyes at this statement, but Sir ignored him and went on.

“They might not have the Mental Abilities that our own people have,” he continued. “But they are sentient species living their own lives and they should be left alone to do so. In fact, I would petition Your Majesty to declare the Goddess’s Cloak galaxy a protected wildlife sanctuary so that these lesser beings may live in peace, unmolested by more advanced societies like ourselves.”

He finished with a bow but he had hardly finished talking before Gra’multh was striding forward again.

“Honestly, Your Majesty, Sir Barinthian is being ridiculously sentimental,” he exclaimed. “A kind heart and a soft head aren’t a good combination—especially when it comes to business.”

“The business of making you more money, do you mean?” Sir growled. “That’s all you care about isn’t it, Gra’multh? Your rotten soul is like a black hole of greed—why do you want even more when you already rule an entire continent?”

“Me, want more?” Gra’multh put a hand on his chest as though he couldn’t believe Sir’s statement. “You seem to think I wish to conquer this little galaxy for my own profit, Barinthian. But I promise you, it is only for the Sovereign’s own glory and honor that I wish to overtake this primitive galaxy and remake it into an image of our own.”

“An entire galaxy of worlds that are subjugated and Mind-Controlled,” Sir snapped. “Haven’t we already done enough damage to our own home galaxy? Must we inflict our greed on the Goddess’s Cloak as well?”

“Oh please—the inhabitants of the Goddess’s Cloak, these ‘Twelve Peoples’ as you call them, are so primitive they wouldn’t even know they were being subjected!” Gra’multh protested.

This was clearly what Sir had been waiting for.

“Little one, come forward,” he called to me.

I came to stand beside him in front of the golden throne. I had been biting my tongue the whole time Gra’multh was talking so I was glad I was finally going to get to do my thing.

“Little one comes from the most primitive planet in the Goddess’s Cloak galaxy,” Sir said, putting an arm protectively around my shoulders and speaking to the Sovereign. “Yet she’s been able to learn all forms of our language from Low Korgish to High Korgish and even Court Korgish. Little one, greet Her Majesty in Court Korgish.”

Bowing my head respectfully, I spoke to the Sovereign in Court Korgish.

“Hello, Your Majesty. Thank you for allowing me to appear before you,” I said, which was what Sir and I had rehearsed. “I am most gratified that you are considering the fate of my home galaxy—thank you for understanding that the inhabitants of the Goddess’s Cloak are sentient beings with a right to our own lives.”

When I lifted my head, I saw that the Sovereign was studying me with what looked like surprise on her face.

“That is most impressive, Sir Barinthian,” she said to Sir. “I’m very surprised that a pet from such a primitive planet is able to speak our language so beautifully.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Sir bowed his head in acknowledgement.

But our moment of triumph was short-lived.

“It’s not actually that impressive, Your Majesty,” Gra’multh said, stepping forward. “Not when you realize that these little Earthlings or ‘humans’ as they call themselves, can be trained to imitate sounds—even the speech of our own language—and parrot it back to us. Take my own pet, Clarissa. Come here, girl,” he added and Clarissa came forward, the same vacant smile on her face. “Speak,” Gra’multh told her.

“My name is Clarissa and I come from a planet called ‘Earth,’” Clarissa said woodenly in perfect Court Korgish.

“Do you see?” Gra’multh spread out a hand to indicate his pet. “She can be trained to say most anything. Of course, she doesn’t understand any of it, but she can repeat the sounds back if you say them often enough to her.”

At this point I was about to explode with anger and irritation. I knew I wasn’t supposed to speak unless spoken to, but this bastard was making it seem like humans were just a race of two-legged parrots—primitive animals that would say anything if we were trained to say it!

“Clarissa might be saying a phrase you taught her, but I am not,” I said, glaring up at Gra’multh and speaking in Court Korgish. “I am here to argue on behalf of my people so greedy bastards like you don’t strip mine my planet and my entire galaxy!”

“Little one!” Sir’s voice cracked like a whip in the echoing space. “You must not speak so to a superior—especially not in the throne room before the Sovereign.” He frowned at me, his face as dark as a thundercloud. “You must apologize before we are removed from Her Majesty’s presence.”

I frowned mutinously. I knew I had broken the rules of the Court, but that bastard Gra’multh had made me so mad I couldn’t help speaking out! Plus, everything he’d been saying was lies—shouldn’t someone call him out on it?

But apparently that someone shouldn’t be me. Sir glared at me until I bowed my head and mumbled,

“Forgive me, Your Majesty for causing a scene in your throne room.”

“And…?” Sir prompted.

I gritted my teeth.

“And I’m sorry for offending Sir Gra’multh too.” Though of course, I absolutely wasn’t.

“Please accept my pet’s words as a sincere apology,” Sir added, in wooden tones.

“Indeed, I do not accept your apology!” Gra’multh exclaimed. He drew himself up to his full height and glared at Sir from under his bushy white eyebrows. “In fact, I demand a more final way to settle this matter. Your Majesty,” he continued, turning to the Sovereign. “I think you must agree that this issue has now become a matter of honor. I think that Sir Barinthian and I should duel in order to decide the fate of the Goddess’s Cloak galaxy.”

I heard Sir swear under his breath.

“That is truly not necessary,” he growled. “Her Majesty has been given the facts of the matter—it should be up to her to decide the fate of the galaxy.”

“No, I insist!” Gra’multh’s voice rose, high and angry in the echoing space around the throne. “Your rude little pet has besmirched my honor and she and her entire galaxy will have to pay the price for it!”

Well, crap. No wonder Sir had told me to keep my mouth shut! Now he would have to fight for the honor of my galaxy instead of letting the Sovereign decide for herself, based on the facts she’d been presented with. Unless she disagreed?

But when I looked at the Sovereign, I saw an expression of uncertainty on her face. She looked so young at that moment and I could see how inexperienced she was in matters like this.

“Er…very well,” she said at last, nodding her head. “A duel it is.” She raised her voice. “Guards, clear the dais and bring out two Dueling Bands.”

As soon as she spoke, everyone got very busy, bustling around and doing what she had ordered. I looked up at Sir, who had a grim expression on his face.

“Sir?” I said in a small voice. “I’m really sorry.”

“So am I, little one.” He shook his head. “Though I’ll do my best to defend your galaxy, I can’t promise anything.”

“But…you’re so much younger and stronger than Gra’multh,” I protested. “Surely you’ll be able to beat him easily!”

“This isn’t a physical duel we’re talking about—it’s a Mental duel,” Sir told me. “And unfortunately, the older a Korrigon gets, the stronger his Mental Abilities grow.”

“Oh, no!” I felt like my heart had sunk right down to my toes. “Oh, Sir, I’m so sorry! So…he’s stronger than you?” I asked, uncertainly.

“Probably,” Sir said grimly. “But as I said, I will do my best, little one.”

“But…can you be hurt when it’s a Mental duel? I mean, you can’t be…can’t be killed if you’re just fighting with your minds, can you?” I whispered.

“You’ve seen me use my Mental Abilities before—what do you think?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I thought of how he’d crumpled the metal gate back at the spaceport and raised Shadrack, the sleezy Pet Finder, up by the throat like he was Darth Vader.

“Oh, no!” I moaned, putting a hand to my mouth. “Oh please, Sir—tell me it’s not as bad as that?”

“I am afraid I would be lying if I said the situation wasn’t dire—death can be the result of a Mental duel,” Sir told me. “I’m sorry, little one—if I’m killed, you need to go back to the ship and see if you can locate Captain Tau’rex. Tell him that I have ordered that you will be brought back to Earth and left in the place of your choosing.”

“What? No!” This was all happening too fast! I felt like I had suddenly climbed on a roller coaster that was going faster and faster and was guaranteed to end in a crash. “Sir, please!” I stood on my tiptoes, reaching up for him and he bent down to let me put my arms around his neck.

“Little one,” he murmured, cupping my cheek in one big hand and swiping away my tears with his thumb. “Try not to worry—my Mental Abilities are strong, even if I haven’t attained Gra’multh’s age yet.”

“But…this is all my fault,” I whispered. “I never should have opened my big mouth. I’m so sorry, Sir!”

“Don’t be.” He kissed me gently, first on one wet cheek, then on the other, then on my mouth. “I’ll fight for your honor, little one,” he murmured. “And win your galaxy the right to freedom if I can.”

Then one of the guards was tapping him on the shoulder and Sir had to straighten up and turn to see what he wanted.

“The Dueling Bands,” the guard informed him. “As the defender, you may choose first.”

The two thin black wires laying on the puffy white pillow in the guard’s hands looked the same to me. But Sir took his time before choosing one and placing it over his horns, where it shrunk to fit against his temples. Gra’multh took the other wire and did the same.

“What do those do—the bands?” I asked Sir.

“They amplify our Mental Abilities but also give greater control. That way we don’t accidentally hurt anyone else while we are dueling,” Sir told me. “They also make our Mental actions visible to anyone watching, which makes it easier for the Sovereign to judge the true winner of the duel.” Then he turned towards Gra’multh and said, “I am ready.”

“As am I, young one.” Gra’multh seemed to be gloating, reminding Sir of his younger age and really rubbing it in. I was angry at the big bastard all over again—so angry I wanted to punch him!

But my anger melted into fear as I watched the two Korrigons face off against each other.

“Are the two of you ready?” the Sovereign asked as they faced each other. And when both of them nodded, she said, “Very well—let the duel for the fate of the Goddess’s Cloak galaxy begin!”