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KARA STUMBLED AND made for the bed. She braced herself on the edge as she sank down, her legs buckling. She sat there blinking, staring at the wall unseeing, rapidly thinking. Isra quietly watched her as several slow minutes ticked by.
“Your mother created the Empire...as in the entire Rhaslok Empire?” Kara wasn’t sure if she was asking for confirmation or praying for a denial. Hoping that, somehow, she’d completely misunderstood Isra and the conversation she’d just spied on.
Isra stiffly inclined her head, but her eyes narrowed slightly. “How long were you listening?”
“Uh—the queen was saying ‘they know’.” Kara’s mind was still spinning, still grappling with the idea that Queen Samorn had created the Empire. She spoke the first thought that popped into her mind, “How did she create the Empire? How is that even possible?”
Again, Isra contemplated her, her demeanour cool and distant. Despite the cramped quarters, the drab colours and the coarse fabric of the taupe coveralls she wore, Isra still exuded a regal air. One seemingly untouched by everything around her, including Kara’s questions. “That is a history you do not need to know.”
Kara’s head shot up, her thoughts snapping into focus. “I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s happening. And clearly, both you and Her Majesty think your past has something to do with the current threat.”
Isra’s eyes slid away from her. Her hands clenched and a muscle in her jaw ticked.
“What happened with the Draldens?” Kara frowned, suddenly remembering a conversation from before they’d been on the FPC mothership. “Wait, you said that a Dralden tried to kill you when you were a baby. Was that the truth or a lie? One you fabricated to justify your mother’s almost irrational reaction to the Drald Collective?”
“I told you the truth—but not the whole truth.” Isra leapt to her feet and paced the small confines of the room. “She would not want me to tell you any of this,” she murmured.
“I can guess that, but I just heard you say you didn’t even want the monarchy to exist anymore. That you wanted her to give up the Empire!”
Kara’s mind whirled at the thought of the heir putting voice to the idea not just of abdicating, but of actually ending the monarchy. It would leave a power vacuum of monumental proportions.
And where would that leave her?
Her stomach lurched at the thought, and her hand fisted.
“You’ve kept me in the dark for years.” Kara glared at her. “Surely I deserve some answers after everything I have gone through on her behalf.” She pointed accusingly at Isra. “For you, as well. I didn’t see you trying to release me when you’d rescued me from that Dark Raider base. You didn’t let me go free of the Empire. You basically intimated that either I vowed to obey the Crown, or I would die.” She stiffened as a sudden thought struck her. “If Samorn created this Empire, then that means she made the laws that banned bio-cybers. My very criminality and sub-status are directly her fault. You knew this, and you still stood silent. You let me suffer!”
She launched herself from the bed, right into Isra’s personal space, their faces separated by mere centimetres. “You’ve been directly complicit in the suffering of everyone with cybernetics, of their outcast status, if what you say is the truth.”
Isra stepped back, her hand clutching the desk. “I know—don’t you think I know that?”
Kara stared at her in disbelief as the implications truly sank in. Both Isra and Samorn—if those were even their real names—had claimed they created the empire. An empire that was centuries old, which meant that they had to have been genetically modified on a biological level, that they themselves were bio-cybers, like her. That, or they weren’t even human. She almost snorted in disbelief at that thought. She closed her eyes, pressing her pressing her palms over her face.
Could they really be bio-cybers? They’d controlled her, let her believe she was alone, a threat to the Empire, a threat to the Crown. She had been, but not in the way she thought. No. The threat hadn’t been that the royals were using a bio-cyber. Rather, the threat Kara represented was to themselves. To the questions that would be raised if she was discovered; and they had been right. With the traitors’ machinations, and the media’s response, those questions had been asked and the validity and sovereignty of the Rhaslok monarchy had been brought into doubt.
She’d given everything she had to the Elites. Fought for them, and obeyed them. Trusted Isra to protect her and guide her, and yet they’d hidden the truth from her. As the Shadow, she could even understand where they were coming from. This knowledge, this reality, was more than the general populace could cope with. She could barely wrap her mind around the idea, and a few traitors would be the least of their worries if this secret became public. Rioting and widespread chaos would ensure, and that would be the best-case scenario. Worst case, outright civil war would happen, and everything she’d done to protect the people living in the far reaches of the Jade Zone, everything she’d done to keep the peace and stability would be wiped out in a moment. Gone and forgotten. And they would be in more danger than ever before.
Her hands bunched into fists and she dropped them to her lap, before glaring at Isra. “I have to know. This could be the biggest threat to the Empire, can’t you see that?”
“Kara, you shouldn’t have heard that conversation, any of it. Please, let it go.” Isra’s skin had paled where she gripped the desk so tightly.
Kara held up her hand, not wanting to hear Isra’s reasoning. “I need answers. To protect you, I need to trust you. I have been loyal to you both, trusted you both with my life. Fought and spun webs and worked to maintain the peace. Please let me know what is happening,” she beseeched. “Can’t you understand? I need to know. I deserve to know.”
Isra looked around the room, like she was trying to find an escape route, a way out of these revelations, and Kara’s shoulders drooped. Despite everything she’d done for them, despite the years of loyalty, Isra didn’t trust her.
Kara turned her head away, defeated.
The chair scraped along the decking and Isra’s coveralls rustled as she sat. There was a pause, weighted and heavy as if the very air had stopped circulating and the gravity increased, but Kara’s ocular display clearly and concisely detailed that these parameters hadn’t changed. The data remained the same. But would Isra speak or send her away?
“You’re right,” Isra finally admitted.
Kara looked back at Isra, her attention utterly focused on her. She doubted anything short of an outright attack on the Brognan would tear her from this room now.
Isra fluttered her hands, before abruptly clasping them tight. “I just—this isn’t something I thought I’d ever tell another person. She drilled that into me from the start. Discretion, poise, and never, ever reveal more than you absolutely have to.” She stared down at her hands. “I will answer as best I can, but be aware, I may not be able to tell you everything you want to know, not because I want to keep you in the dark, but because I may not know myself.”
Isra swallowed and squared her shoulders as if she was preparing to take a blow. “So, ask.”
Kara licked her lips, her thoughts uncertain, not sure where to start now that she could. “How old are you, and the queen?”
Isra raised one shoulder. “She is older than the Empire. When it comes to centuries, does the exact age really matter? A few years either way aren’t that important.” She shook her head, but continued before Kara could demand more. “I was born several years before the formation of the Rhaslok Empire and the treaty with the Tavashans. My mother solidified her position within her kingdom on Rhaslok Prime, and I...I have been her heir since then.” She laughed, but it held no humour, the sound abrupt and cracked. “The eternal Princess.”
Kara frowned, because she knew that down through the years the queen had been pregnant. She’d had children, daughters all; so how did they fit in? The doctor on the talk show had said it was genetic selection, but that couldn’t be right, not if Isra and Samorn were the same people. “The queen was pregnant.” Unless—no, they couldn’t be. “Are you clones, with the same consciousness?”
Isra started, but quickly shook her head in the negative. “That was cloak and shadows, no true pregnancies, no actual babies born. No, we have kept the same body, though changed at times. We have... genetically adjusted...ourselves when needed, but have remained the same bodies.”
It felt like her heart lurched, even though she knew it was physically impossible for it to move. “Bio-cybernetics?”
“No.” Isra fell silent, eyes fixed on the deck.
Kara narrowed her eyes, tapping her foot.
Isra plucked at the hem of her sleeve, pulling at a loose thread, then she sighed and continued. “The Dark Raiders modified you with synthetic biological substances, spliced with multiple foreign DNA strings. I have none of that, but yes, you can say we have changed from what we were at birth, but not cybernetically.” Isra stared down at her lap and her fingers skimmed the edge of her glove, before she trapped her hands between her thighs, stilling them. “I didn’t ask for this, but I have done nothing to stop it either, I admit. I’ve kept the myth, the continuity of the royalty going, as my mother has wanted. I have complied with her wishes, buried myself on Dalor, amongst the acolytes in the Seven Temples, learning what they wanted, and upholding our traditions.” She sighed. “Traditions that we created.”
Thoughts churned through Kara’s mind, questions and accusations, disbelief tinging them all. To be sitting here with Isra, to have her confirm that the royal family had a secret so large it could wipe out the credibility and stability of the Empire, was surreal. She might be asking questions, but she didn’t even know if those were the questions that she needed the answers to. She pressed a hand to her head, trying to will her mind to calmness. Yet every time Isra spoke, she opened up a whole new line of questions.
“Okay.” Kara held up a finger while gathering her thoughts. She needed to control this conversation; focus on what could be security threats, what might affect them right now. “Why does she loathe the Draldens so much, then? Her reactions are nearly irrational. I know what it’s like to hate a group that destroyed your family. That’s how I am...was...with the Dark Raiders.” She hadn’t even fully processed what it meant for her, knowing that Dark Raiders and the FPC were different groups and at odds. It was a thought she’d have to deal with later. She didn’t have the capacity to think about it on top of Isra’s revelations. “They actually killed my family, whereas, from what you’ve led me to understand, a small group of Draldens attempted to kill you as a baby, but, terrible as that is, they weren’t successful. So why does she still hold this...grudge?”
“Because they weren’t rogues, they had orders directly from the then Drald Triad.”
Kara stared at Isra in shock. “Orders?”
“Yes.” The word was clipped and her face tightened. “They knew what we’re capable of, what we could become. She wasn’t supposed to have me, and they were trying to exact what they considered to be justice.” Isra stared unseeing, lost in the distant past. “I am an abomination to Draldens. If they know who I am, the Empire may be at risk.” Her lips twitched, a sneer appearing before she suppressed it.
Kara sucked in a deep breath. This was becoming more confusing and farfetched, the more she heard. Yet, Isra had never been one to lie outright. She might omit and withhold information, but she hadn’t meant Kara to overhear her conversation with her mother. She had to make some sense of this. “You’re from Rhaslok Prime. I don’t understand why any Draldens, let alone the Drald Triad, would even know about you. We hadn’t even had first contact with the Tavashan then, let alone anyone else in the other Zones. So just how are they involved?”
Isra’s jaw clenched, her eyes troubled.
“How am I supposed to believe any of this?” Kara’s leg jiggled, trying to piece this into any kind of sense. “You’ve just said you’re centuries old, and now claim to have met the Draldens before anyone else in the whole Empire and that they tried to kill you. Help me understand, please.”
Kara had to prompt her to respond after Isra stared at the floor for so long.
“Isra?”
Isra finally looked up at her, her eyes flicking over her face. “You must never speak of this to anyone else, ever. That includes Tarsk.”
She slowly nodded in agreement. What could be more shocking than what she’d already learnt?
Isra took a deep breath. “I’m not human, and neither is my mother. We never have been.”
Kara controlled her instinctive denial. Isra had no reason to lie to her. “Then what are you?”
“Dralden.”
Kara stared at the very human-looking woman in front of her. “Dralden?”
Isra inclined her head.
“Why haven’t you told us, your Elites? We swore to guard the Empire and its secrets.”
“The Sword and Shield are aware of most of it.” Isra glanced away.
“What, Tarsk and I weren’t deemed worthy, is that it?”
“This secret would destroy the Empire. Why would we tell anyone else and increase the risk of it being discovered?”
With a shake of her head, Kara stopped herself from pushing for answers. She knew Isra’s moods well enough to know that pushing her would get her nowhere further. She had to change tact, and focus on the more pressing question: would Isra really renounce being the heir?
She tapped her finger against her lip, considering Isra’s body language. “I recall you being discontent on Dalor, even arguing with your mother. You’ve been at odds more than once since then. Just before you ended that call,” she pointed at the flexi on the desk, “you told her the Empire should end. Did you mean that? Do you really want to end the Empire?” This was the answer she truly wanted—needed—to know.
The low rumble of the engines permeated the room. Air hissed from a vent and the bulkheads faintly creaked, but neither of them moved or made a sound. Finally, Isra shifted, the rough fabric of the coveralls rasping as her legs slid against each other. She pulled her hands free, twisting them in front of her, around and round. Slight grease stains spotted her gloves, and her whole appearance was far from that of the royal princess, the heir to their nation. It was little wonder Arlen and the other FPC hadn’t guessed who she was. Yet, here she was, looking like any other freighter crew member, with battered and worn clothes, weary eyes, and drawn skin.
“I...I’m so tired of it all.” She looked at Kara beseechingly. “I’m so tired of pretending to be someone I’m not, of trying to remember what I should forget, of what I shouldn’t—couldn’t possibly know.” Her hands stopped twisting. “I started the Elites because I needed to be something other than the heir, even for an hour. And yet even there, I added more layers to the subterfuge that has become my life. But I couldn’t let it go, even though mother wasn’t happy about the risk I put myself under. I needed that space to be me, not just another iteration of the Crown Princess.” She pressed her fingertips to her forehead, trying to smooth the wrinkles out. “I think that’s the main reason she brought you and Tarsk onto the team. Not so you could be her eyes and ears, but because it meant I no longer had an excuse to leave the Onyx Palace, or Catera, or even the Temples of Dalor. She could use the two of you for any dangerous missions, keeping me locked away in my tower, like a princess from a fable.”
“But you’re her daughter. It’s not like there’s anyone else that can take your place. That’s the whole point of royalty; it’s by blood.” Kara caught herself worrying at her lip and forced herself to relax.
“I don’t want the monarchy anymore. I don’t want to be the heir,” Isra exclaimed, touching her head where her crown would rest. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be an heir, knowing that you may never inherit the throne? Eternally, constantly under your own mother’s shadow?”
Isra yanked at the back of one glove, almost pulling it off, before she froze and leapt to her feet. She paced the small confines from one wall to the other. “But she is my only family, and I can’t abandon her, or not care what she thinks. I don’t know what to do anymore. All that I know is that these past days on this freighter, being amongst those nationless people, where I’ve been free of constraints, free of the ostentatious and impractical garbs,” she plucked at the coveralls, a stark contrast to the jewel encrusted gowns she normally wore, “has been a relief. I have felt free, even knowing there is a direct threat to my life. And yet, that feeling leaves me consumed with guilt. How can I even think of giving up being the heir? There isn’t anyone else to take my place. The Empire would suffer, I know this.” She turned to Kara, and her face hardened. “But I can’t keep this charade going. I’m sorry, but I cannot stay the princess. I cannot stay in the Empire. Not any longer. Surely you can understand?”
It was Kara’s turn to contemplate her hands, her thoughts conflicted. Because she understood Isra’s plight, how trapped she must feel, even if it was a place of her own creation, gilded and revered. Yet it wasn’t, not if the queen had set this in motion when Isra really was only a child. How could she demand that Isra continue this fallacy, this mockery of a royal family? Yet, she still felt Isra was holding something back, but then she’d lived for centuries, and that was a long time to hoard secrets.
Isra stood straight, but tremors snaked through her. “Set a course for the Youl nation, but please, don’t tell her, or anyone else, that I have no intention of ever returning to the Empire, let alone Rhaslok Prime.”
Kara crossed her arms, feeling weary and weighed down by secrets she’d never thought to guess existed. “I will remain silent, for now. But you know I swore allegiance to Queen Samorn, and I’m an Imperial. I still believe in this nation. If I didn’t, I would’ve stayed back on that FPC mothership, with my brother and Tarsk.”
She headed for the door, pausing at Isra’s side. Kara didn’t look at her, but said, “We don’t always get what we want. If we have powers we wish we didn’t have, then that’s our burden to bear. No one else should be made to pay the price for them, except ourselves.” She finally turned her face and pierced Isra with a long, unflinching, and challenging stare.
Isra’s eyes slid away first, and Kara stepped into the corridor, quietly closing the hatch behind her.