The council sat at the table, all eyes on Alexis as he read the report in front of him.
“This makes the tenth attack this month,” Alexis said. “Do we know anymore about this group? Or are they allowed to just run free terrorizing innocent people.”
“We have yet to capture any of the attackers alive, your highness,” de Morlan replied. He looked over at Derrick. “But there is a name that has started to circulate amongst the passengers.”
Alexis looked from de Morlan to Derrick. “Is the name a secret or are you going to tell me?”
“Lucas Langley,” Derrick answered. “After each attack someone paints the name on a wall of the affected deck.”
“That’s just insurgent propaganda!” Stolt cried from his seat next to Derrick. Other than de Morlan, he was the highest ranking steward on the council, because of his sector holdings. “We need to send a regiment down to the lower decks and stop this at the source!”
“Insurgents?” Alexis mused. “How can there be insurgents on Aelon when everyone here is born and raised? An insurgency implies an outside force. Do you believe an outside force is pushing these attacks?”
“No, sire, I do not,” de Morlan said quickly. He glared at Stolt and shook his head. “This is completely homegrown, your highness. Langley is part of a long line of engineers from the lower decks. As you know, under your father’s rule, the lower decks were constantly mined for cheap labor to help with the rebuilds. Unfortunately, if anyone objected to their new position they were tossed into the Vape chamber in the rotational drive.” The steward cleared his throat. “Your father called it, uh…”
“Gravitational justice,” Alexis nodded. “Yes, I’m aware of my father’s proclivities towards creative forms of punishment.”
“Execution, not punishment,” Steward Joff Klemshir said from a seat towards the end of the table. “The lower decks see every one of those deaths as an unjustified execution and have called for an eye for an eye. Can’t blame them.”
“Steward Klemshir!” de Morlan exclaimed. “That is dangerously close to treason!”
“No, it’s close to honesty,” Klemshir replied. “I didn’t say I agreed with them, I said I didn’t blame them. Can you? If one of us was yanked from this room and thrown out of an airlock for no reason other than we refused to vote on a measure, how would the remainder of us feel? Pretty damn pissed off, is how.”
“Point taken, Steward Klemshir,” Alexis said. “And yet another reason I insist we go forward with the meeting of passengers.”
“That cannot be allowed, your highness,” de Morlan said. “The main reason being that security has blocked all access to the surface of the station until the unrest can be put down. Even if we had the full support of the stewards, which we do not, we cannot risk allowing an extremist onto the surface, let alone into Castle Quent!”
“Then we meet below,” Alexis said. “We don’t have the meeting of passengers on the surface in Quent or in any of the stewards’ manor houses. We take the meeting to the very people it is meant to represent.”
“People that already have representation by their stewards,” Stolt said. “Which has been enough for millennia. You are upsetting a boat that does not need to be upset.”
“Your protestations have been heard and noted,” Alexis sighed. “Countless times. How about you skip your next protest and help decide where we should hold the meeting of passengers.”
The council looked about at each other, none wanting to offer up space within their sectors. Alexis waited patiently, making sure to meet the eye of each person seated at the table. When no suggestions came forth, he stood up and brought himself to his full, impressive height. The Teirmont fire burned in his eyes.
“I know my succession was sudden and happened during a huge amount of conflict and turmoil with Station Aelon and Aelon Prime,” Alexis began. “But it still does not change the fact that I am master. I have been master for several months now, yet all I see are condescending faces and conniving smirks.” Derrick started to argue, but Alexis held up his hand. “With various exceptions, of course.”
“Of course,” Stolt said.
“Do not count yourself amongst those exceptions, cousin,” Alexis growled. “In fact, I would put you at the top of the agitator list.”
“Your highness!” Stolt exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “You must be kidding? I have been nothing but loyal to the crown!”
“You were loyal to my father because he was easily manipulated with flattery and gifts,” Alexis said. “Which explains why your sectors have the most improvements done to them.” Alexis smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “Come to think of it, wasn’t the Middle Deck Twenty-Six atrium in Sector Bueke widened and restructured to allow more people to gather there during the Last Meal festival?”
“Your highness, Last Meal is a high holy day,” Stolt replied. “You cannot compare this farce of a meeting to the celebration of Helios devouring the false gods. That borders on blasphemy.”
“And your argument borders on sedition!” Alexis roared. “We will hold the meeting of passengers in your Sector Bueke in the Middle Deck Twenty-Six atrium! I do not want to hear any other response out of your mouth other than ‘Yes, sire!’”
The room was silent and still as all eyes turned to Steward Stolt. The man’s struggle with his emotions was plainly visible on his face. But after a few seconds he regained himself and took his seat.
“Yes, sire,” he said quietly. “My apologies.”
“I’ll forgive you for the extra two words, Cousin,” Alexis grinned. The fire still remained in his eyes, but it was tempered by satisfaction. “Let’s adjourn the council for today. You all have much to prepare for. I expect you to pick, notify, and assist those from your sectors that you deem fit for the meeting without further delay. Have your choices to me by the end of the week. We will call the meeting to order in one month’s time.”
Alexis looked to Corbin as the man stood at attention off to the side.
“I expect you to coordinate the security needed with Steward Stolt’s men,” Alexis said, his eyes flitting to Stolt and back. “Tell them they are to do as you order as if it was my words they are hearing directly from my lips. You will report to my brother on all matters and he will report to me if there is a problem. Understood?”
“Yes, your highness,” Corbin nodded. “I will not fail you.”
“I expect not,” Alexis grinned. “Gentlemen? Good day.”
* * *
“No!” Alexis shouted. “Preposterous!”
“Preposterous?” Eliza frowned, her arms folded across her chest. “Please tell me you did not just use that word with me.”
“I will not, cannot, allow you to accompany me below the Surface!” Alexis yelled. “You are with child again!”
“I am,” Eliza said, keeping her voice even and cool, the direct opposite of her husband’s booming tone. “But only a month and a half along. The midwife suggests I get out and stop hiding within Castle Quent.” She looked about the sparse royal quarters. “Which I think is a fine idea. If I stare at these stupid tapestries for another day I will go mad. Is that what you want, husband? For your mistress to go mad while carrying your child?”
“But what about the other children? The ones that have already been born? Will you abandon them?” Alexis grumbled as he slumped into a less than plush chair. His fingers picked at the breen upholstery as he looked at his wife. “They need their mother.”
“They need their father also,” Eliza replied. “But you are continually leaving the castle while I remain behind. The children have nurses and they have an adoring aunt. They will be staying with Melinda at Castle Helble. Her late husband may have been an awful boor, but he did leave her with an amazing home.”
“One she never uses because she is always in her quarters here at court,” Alexis responded. He thought for a second then sighed. “I guess it will get her out of here as well. She should tend to her estate now and again.”
“There will be other children there ours can play with,” Eliza said. “Melinda has an open invitation for the sector wardens’, and even deck bosses’, children to come to the Surface and play on the estate when they want. The place is more of a park than a working farm.”
“Yes, the stewards keep reminding me that Sector Helble does not make its quota of resources ever,” Alexis said. “Maybe we should set up the area as a children’s refuge and have that be her contribution?”
“I doubt she’d object,” Eliza smiled. “And if the royal children endorse it then you know the stewards, and their wives, will jump on immediately. If for nothing else than pure sycophancy.”
Alexis rolled his head on his neck and then nodded. “Fine. You can come with me.”
“Oh, thank you, my lord,” Eliza replied with an exaggerated curtsey. “You honor me with your permission.”
“Come here,” he smiled in spite of himself.
“Who? Me?” Eliza said, walking slowly towards him, her hands on her ocean green tunic. “Why, your highness? Do you need something?”
“Yes,” Alexis said as he reached for her. “I need you.”
His arms took her in and she fell onto his lap. Hands moved quickly and the ocean green tunic, as well as Alexis’s bright blue one, fell to the foot of the chair. Trousers followed and soon the chair was forgotten as the royal couple moved to the floor.
* * *
The massive atrium was filled to bursting with long tables, banquets to the side, men, women, and even some children, as the meeting of passengers was about to start. Alexis, seated at the head of the longest table that split the atrium down the middle, looked up at the five levels of balconies above him. All he could see were people jammed together shoulder to shoulder, their expectant faces watching the last minute preparations for a historical event the likes their generation had never witnessed before.
“They seem scared,” Eliza said, leaning close to her husband’s ear so she could be heard. Despite more than a few grumblings from some of the stewards in attendance, Eliza’s seat had been placed to Alexis’s right. De Morlan had happily given up the spot to please the mistress. “Why do they seem so scared? I would think they’d be elated considering their voices will truly be heard for the first time.”
“I think they are afraid for many reasons,” Alexis replied, taking his wife’s hand and kissing the soft skin. “Mostly they are afraid their representatives will not be up to the task and the meeting will fail. Many of these men taking their seats have been nothing but subservient to stewards their entire lives. Sure, they lead as sector wardens and deck bosses, but that’s not the same as actually making decisions that not only affect their people, but all passengers on Station Aelon.”
“Yes, it must be very hard for all these men,” Eliza said, her sarcasm not concealed in the least.
“Patience, my dear love,” Alexis said. “One day women will join these tables. But it must be one step at a time. Making sure the meeting of passengers is a success will be key to ushering changes for the fairer sex.”
A hand gripped him under the table. Hard.
“Fairer?” Eliza mocked, squeezing even harder. Alexis grunted, but tried to keep his face passive so as not to alarm anyone. “What’s that about fairer?”
He gently removed her hand and placed it on her belly.
“You know what I mean,” he said, his own hand rubbing at her midsection that was just starting to protrude. “And you know how I feel.”
“And you know how I feel,” Eliza said. “Thomas may be your male heir, but Esther is who should truly take the crown when, Helios forbid, you pass. I love my boy dearly, but he does not have the temperament for ruling like you do. Esther was born to be a mistress, and not because she marries into the position.”
“I know,” Alexis said as he watched a portly man make his way through the crowd and to Corbin who stood a few paces away. “I know that man. Where have I met him?”
Eliza looked over and shook her head. “Not a clue.”
“Ah! I know,” Alexis exclaimed and stood up quickly. “Deck Boss Wyerrn! Come, meet my wife!”
Corbin looked over his shoulder at the royal couple then turned back to Gornish and gestured for him to proceed.
“Your highness, thank you so much for granting me an audience,” Gornish said, bowing low. “I know you have many more important people to attend to than a lowly deck boss such as myself.”
“Not true, not true,” Alexis said. “A man of your ingenuity should always be in favor of a master’s attention.”
Gornish let out a little squeak at the compliment and his face turned bright red. Eliza chuckled at the sight and stood up to offer her hand.
“So you are the man that created the longsling and the, uh, what do you call them?” Eliza grinned as Gornish clumsily took her hand and nearly fell over as he tried to bow and kiss the hand at the same time. “The new flechettes?”
“Particle barb flechettes, your highness,” Gornish replied. “Thicker and heavier than normal flechettes because they are designed to splinter and shred upon contact. I have been testing a new version and finally perfected one that can cut through even the toughest of polybreen armor.”
“Cut through polybreen armor?” Eliza replied. “I didn’t know that was possible except for the sharpest long blade.”
“It is now, my mistress,” Gornish responded. “I was hoping to gain an audience with the royal armorer, but he will not see me.”
Alexis furrowed his brow. “He won’t? I gave strict orders to accommodate your needs in bringing the longslings, and ammunition, into full production.”
“I appreciate that, your highness,” Gornish nodded. “I wouldn’t trouble you with it, but…”
“Out with it,” Alexis said. “You are speaking to someone that was raised to appreciate innovations of engineering and construction. Don’t hesitate in being honest.”
“It’s that I have sunk my entire life’s fortune, as well as my wife’s, into the design of the longsling and particle barbs. If I can’t get them into production soon then I will lose everything,” Gornish said shyly. “And now my appointment to the meeting of passengers, which is a true honor, will take up more of my time. Time I should be using to shore up my holdings. I am not a young man such as yourself, your highness. I have limited days to provide a legacy for my daughters.”
“Then I’ll do what I can to help with that legacy, Gornish, my man,” Alexis grinned, clapping the man on the shoulder. “Corbin!”
“Yes, sire?” Corbin asked, his eyes turning reluctantly from the task of scanning the crowds.
“Will you take Deck Boss Wyerrn to find my brother? If you accompany him he’ll be seen right away,” Alexis said. “I know Derrick is about here somewhere.” The master turned to Gornish. “Tell my brother that he is, by royal decree, to expedite the production of longslings and the flechettes. He’s a long time drinking buddy of the royal armorer. Derrick will know how to get things moving.”
“Thank you, your grace!” Gornish exclaimed. “I mean, your highness! Your aren’t High Guardian, I don’t know why I called you your grace. My apologies—”
“It’s fine,” Eliza interrupted. “He can be very graceful.”
“Corbin? Please,” Alexis said as the deck boss started to stammer more gratitudes. “Hurry before the proceedings begin.”
Corbin tugged at Gornish’s elbow and led the thankful man away through the milling groups of passengers and stewards. Alexis watched them go with a bemused smile.
“I like that man,” Alexis said.
“I like it when you say ‘royal decree,’” Eliza grinned. “Maybe you can say it to me over and over later this evening?”
“If the day doesn’t tire us both out,” Alexis said.
There is a commotion towards one of the side tables and soon shouting could be heard. Then there was the crash of glassware and the shouts rose in volume until the atrium was filled with a roar of angry voices.
“Steward Thierri’s party,” de Morlan said as he hurried over to Alexis’s side. “His choice of passenger representative was seated two chairs down from the one that represents Sector Glebe.”
“Steward Alote’s sector,” Alexis said.
“Precisely,” de Morlan nodded.
“Helios,” Alexis sighed as he rubbed his face. “This meeting is about the passengers and not about petty feuds between stewards.”
“The passenger delegates represent their sectors,” de Morlan shrugged. “Which means they bring their stewards’ grudges with them to the tables.”
“Shaowshit,” Alexis said and pushed past the steward. “I’ll teach them what this day is supposed to be about.”
“Your highness!” de Morlan called out. “Sire, no!”
He tried to follow the angry master, but the taller man’s stride was too much and he soon lost him in the crowd. As soon as people saw who was walking amongst them they parted and the master could move even faster. De Morlan was held back even further as the crowd closed in behind the striding Alexis.
“Don’t try to catch him,” Eliza said from de Morlan’s side. “Just get there in time to minimize the damage.”
“My mistress,” de Morlan said with surprise. “You should not be here! Please, your highness, return to your table!” He looked about for Corbin, but couldn’t find the head guard. “Here, I will escort you.”
“Like Helios you will,” Eliza snapped, yanking her arm away from the steward as he took it to steer her back. “I saw the look in Alexis’s eyes. His patience is thin and he’s ready to make an example. He has too much of his grandfather in him.”
De Morlan looked from the mistress to the crowd that was gathering and following the master to the side of the atrium.
“You need to go control this situation,” Eliza insisted. “Now.”
“Fine, your highness,” de Morlan said. “But you do not leave my side, understood?”
“Did you just talk to me as if I was a child, Steward de Morlan?” Eliza grinned. “Can I have candy if I’m a good girl?”
De Morlan’s jaw dropped in confusion and embarrassment.
“Close that trap, Alasdair,” Eliza said as she took the lead. “You’ll attract honey wasps.”
Eliza pushed through the crowd to reach her husband just as he was pulling two men off of each other. She shook her head and stopped at the edge of the fight, watching her husband tower over the much older and much shorter passengers.
“Is this how you want to legislate?” Alexis shouted. “With grudges and fists? How is this behavior any better than just letting the stewards decide your fate? You two should be ashamed of yourselves and think long and hard on whether you are the right men to represent your sectors!”
He gripped a skinny, freckled man by the back of the neck and shook him.
“What is your name, sir?” Alexis barked.
“Deck Boss Bothe Teg, your highness,” the man winced.
“And you?” Alexis asked the other, equally pained man.
“Sector Warden Montieth Wyatt,” the other man replied, his mouth a rictus of pain as the master’s grip increased.
“Well, Sector Warden Montieth Wyatt and Deck Boss Bothe Teg,” Alexis smiled, violence shining from his white teeth. “Shake hands now and call your stupid bickering over and done with. Extend those hands or I will cut them off, do you hear me?”
The two men stared up at the master, their eyes wide with fear and confusion. Then slowly they extended their hands and shook.
“Good,” Alexis said, letting them go and shoving them away. “Now if you don’t mind, I would like to start this meeting so we can make history.”
Deck Boss Teg stumbled as he stepped away from the master and his feet went out from under him. He tried to break his fall by grabbing one of the tables, but his hand slipped and instead his head smacked a corner. The man crumpled to the ground and there was an audible gasp.
“Father? Father!” a younger man shouted as he shoved people out of the way to get to the fallen deck boss. “Oh, Helios! Father!”
Blood pooled around Teg’s head and the younger man fell to his knees and lifted him into his lap. The older man’s eyes were blank and glazed, showing his soul had already fled the flesh.
“No! No!” the younger man screamed. Then he looked up at a stunned Alexis. “You killed him! You killed my father! He was a good man! He was good!”
“Oh, Helios…” Alexis whispered.
“Alexis? Come along,” Eliza said as she moved forward and took his hand. “We need to leave.”
There were harsh whispers and grumbles started to move through the crowd as Eliza looked about, suddenly fearful for her and her husband’s safety for the first time that day.
“Alexis,” she hissed.
“I’m sorry,” Alexis said, gently moving away from his wife and crouching before the grief stricken man and his dead father. “It was an accident, I assure you. I’ll compensate—”
“Compensate?” the man yelled. “Compensate me how? With a new father? You can’t get a new father when one dies! It’s not like you and your stillborn brood! One dies and you can fuck the Ploervian whore you married and make another one! I’d fuck that slut too if it would bring my father back! But it won’t, so take the whore cunt away from here!”
The whispering crowd went silent at the man’s words. Alexis didn’t move or say anything for a long while. Then he abruptly stood up, walked over to de Morlan, removed the man’s long blade, spun about and jammed it through the eye socket of the grieving son.
Blood spurted out around the blade as Alexis leaned into it, kneeling as he pushed it through the man’s skull up to the hilt. The master’s face was one of shaking fury and he moved in close to the second dead man.
“See who you can fuck in Helios, asshole,” Alexis snarled.
Then he stood up and yanked the blade free, whipping the blood from the metal in one shake of his hand. He turned to look at the crowd and was about to speak when several roars were heard and six men shoved through, all running at the master with blades drawn.
“Alexis!” Eliza screamed.
The master spun about and ducked low just as the first blade swiped empty air where his head had been. Alexis slid his long blade easily into the attacker’s soft guts and pulled to the side, sending intestines spilling out onto the floor.
“Corbin!” Eliza screamed, the only voice in a stunned crowd. “Corbin!”
Even the other royal guards stood silent and still, their minds confused by what they were seeing.
A second attacker brought his blade down with both hands, but Alexis raised his blade in time to block the blow. He stood up, his long legs like unstoppable pistons, and shoved the man back with one hand while he reached out and snagged the man’s short blade from his belt. Before the attacker could regain his balance he found his own short blade sticking out of his chest.
Alexis strode forward and pulled out the short blade, then spun and threw it at a third man that came at him. He smiled as the blade slid into the man’s forehead like a knife through butter. On some level he wondered what the man had used to sharpen the blade.
“Sire!” Corbin yelled as he finally reached the fight. “What are you men doing? Stop this!”
The head of the royal guard hurried at the master and grabbed him by both arms just as another attacker was about to meet Helios in person.
“Sire! Stop!” Corbin shouted up at Alexis’s ear. “Stop now!”
Alexis threw off his protector and whirled on him, long blade ready for battle. Corbin parried and knocked the master’s blade to the side, but didn’t unhand it.
“Corbin,” Alexis said, his voice calm and even, not matching the wild look in his eyes or the way his chest hitched up and down with the exertion and adrenaline. “About time you showed your face.”
Corbin shook his head and frowned as he stood back from the master. “Sire, I was—”
“No matter,” Alexis said, waving his hand as he tossed the long blade to the ground. “All of these men? Have them brought to their knees and lined up.”
“All men of Sector Glebe and Sector Gwalter will step forward!” Corbin shouted. “Do so now!”
Almost two dozen men reluctantly separated from the crowd as guards hurried forward and shoved them to their knees. They looked up at the master, many with nothing but rage in their eyes, but most with terror and sadness.
“You hold a grudge against each others’ sectors for what reason?” Alexis snarled. “Because your stewards say so? Cowards. All of you. I bring you here to be able to speak and think for yourselves and all you do is pick other men’s fights. You don’t deserve a voice. None of you do.”
He stood up and walked slowly away from the line of men, his eyes focused on Corbin’s.
“Cut out their tongues,” Alexis said. “And if a single one makes a sound while you do it then execute them all.”
Corbin watched his master for a second then moved in close, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Please, sire, do not ask me to do this,” Corbin pleaded. “This was all a mistake.”
“Are you saying the Master of Station Aelon made a mistake?” Alexis grinned. “Please, guard, say what you just said again.”
Corbin closed his mouth and swallowed hard then shook his head.
“That’s what I thought,” Alexis said. “Now. Cut. Out. Their. Tongues.”
“No, Corbin, do not,” Eliza said as she moved forward and pushed the miserable head guard out of the way. “Because my husband is about to rescind that order and turn and apologize to these people. Do you hear me, Alexis Teirmont? There will be no tongue cutting, no executions, and no more violence today. Turn and show these men mercy and show your people the humility I know you possess.”
“You are shaming me in front of passengers,” Alexis said. “De Morlan? Take my wife away from here. This is no place for a—”
The slap came so fast and hard that Alexis didn’t have a chance to brace for it. Even at the awkward angle of the blow, his head still nearly whipped all the way about. He raised his own hand in retaliation, but then his whole body went cold and numb with the awareness of what he was about to do.
“Show them,” Eliza said, not flinching an inch from the raised hand above her. “Show them now.”
“My love,” Alexis whispered, his hand falling slowly to his side. “Forgive me.”
“I already have,” Eliza replied. “It is their forgiveness you need.”
Eliza reached up and stroked her husband’s cheeks, wiping the single tear away that escaped the corner of one eye. She gently pulled his face towards her and then kissed the quivering lips once they were close enough.
“You are not a monster like your grandfather,” Eliza said. “Nor a fool, like your father. You are Alexis the First and a man unto yourself. You wanted to make history today. Now is your chance.”
She kissed him again then placed both hands on his chest and pushed him away from her. Alexis looked at her for a long minute, his eyes going over every detail of her beautiful face. He saw everything he loved about her in that moment and knew this day would be lodged in his heart for the rest of his life.
“People of Station Aelon,” Alexis said strongly as he turned and addressed the crowds, both on the ground and up on the four levels. “I speak to you not as master of station, or as his highness or sire or whatever names we royals were given so many hundreds and hundreds of years ago. No, I speak to you as a man; a man just like you.”
He smiled at an older woman who stared at him in fear.
“Well, maybe not just like all of you. I don’t exactly have the anatomy for it. But I do have the same heart and that is from where my words usher forth.”
Eliza smiled and put her hands to her mouth, knowing the feared Teirmont storm had passed. She just hoped another wasn’t on the horizon.
“I called this meeting of passengers to show the people of Station Aelon that it is time to recognize who you are and how none of this would be possible without every single person’s effort,” Alexis said. “I witnessed that on Helios as I led regiments of men to their death. At the Battle of Aelon Prime, I watched as wave after wave of brave young men fell under the flechettes and blades of the Burdened. Those masters of warfare fought and killed blindly for the Way, not once thinking of sparing a life instead of taking it. They had no emotion in their eyes. Not like the Aelish. No, the Aelish, even in death, showed who they were. Men of courage, bravery, fear, regret, love, loss, and humanity.”
Alexis looked up towards the very top level and pointed at a woman by the railing.
“You. Ma’am, what’s your name?”
The woman looked about then replied, “Helen, your highness.” Her voice echoed about the quiet atrium.
“Helen,” Alexis nodded. “Did you lose anyone in the conflict?”
“I did, your highness,” she said with a shaky voice. “I lost my cousin.”
“Did you love him?”
“I did, sire.”
“Do you miss him?”
“Not as much as my aunt does, your highness,” Helen responded then gasped at her own impertinence. “I mean that—”
“Where is your aunt?”
“I am here, sire,” a woman responded, moving next to her niece. “I lost my son as well as a younger brother.”
“And I want you to know I am truly sorry for that,” Alexis said, bringing murmurs of surprise from the crowd. “I am sorry to all of you for the rash actions I took when I proposed sending fighters down to the planet with the rest of the stations. It was a fool’s errand and here I stand before you all, a fool.”
Voices cried out, “No” and “You are not!”. Alexis smiled and held up his hands.
“No, it’s true,” he replied and walked over to the corpses of the men he had just slain. “Here is proof of my foolishness. My continuing rashness.” He looked over his shoulder at de Morlan. “Make sure their families are taken care of for life, steward. Pay them directly from my personal accounts.”
De Morlan started to protest, but Eliza’s hand on his arm quieted him.
“I wish I could pay all of those that lost loved ones under my leadership on the planet,” Alexis announced. “But I cannot. Instead, I can offer you a chance to stop me, or any master from here on out, from acting like a fool. By creating a meeting of passengers, I am creating a legislative body that can keep the monarchy, as well as the meeting of stewards, in check. If any other leader decides he will use the people of this station like pawns, he will have to ask the people’s permission directly. That is my payment and my penance for my sins.”
He turned about in a circle, making sure to look at the entire atrium, making sure they saw the sincerity on his face.
“Thank you for being here today,” Alexis said. “And I hope you can forgive me for what I have done and will have presence of mind to keep me from repeating it.”
The atrium was silent for several seconds then voices were lifted as one in a riotous cheer. Arms were pumped into the air, scarves and hats tossed about, women and men turned and kissed passionately as everyone was swept up in the moment.
One of the kissed was Alexis as Eliza hurried to him and nearly leapt into his arms.
“That is the master I love and the man I married,” she cried just before her mouth found his.
De Morlan stood there, happy to see the sway his master had over the people, but saddened by the blood that still pooled upon the ground and the corpses that were being gently lifted up and carried away. He watched one body being taken through the crowd when he saw Steward Stolt staring at him. The man smiled then nodded and slipped back into the still cheering throng.
The steward was not comforted by Stolt’s smile.
“Your highness,” Corbin said roughly. “I would feel much more comfortable if I could show you back to your table. There is still much tension here.”
“Yes, of course, Corbin,” Alexis replied as he lifted his wife up into his arms.
The crowd quickly parted for the master and mistress, and many hands reached out to touch the passing royals. It took them some time to get to their seats as every steward in their path insisted on saying words and congratulating the master on such a fine speech and such honest sentiments.
By the time Alexis was seated again, his arms felt like wilted scrim grass and he was sweating heavily. Eliza laughed at a joke a steward told and glanced over at her husband to see how he liked it, when she saw the look on his face.
“Oh, for Helios’s sake,” she whispered as she moved her chair closer. “You’ve hurt yourself, haven’t you?”
“I’m fine,” he snapped. She raised her eyebrows quickly and he closed his eyes. “Yes. My wound is on fire.”
“Corbin,” Eliza ordered and the man came forward.
“Yes, your highness?”
“Can you provide us with some privacy, please?”
“Certainly,” he replied and snapped his fingers.
Several guards came forward and cleared the area around the master’s seat, creating a human wall of privacy.
“Let’s see what we have here,” Eliza said as she untucked her husband’s tunic and pulled the shirt up over his head. “Helios…”
The wound was puffy and an angry red. Black lines spread out form the oozing gash and Eliza’s fingers traced them, measuring each one. She narrowed her eyes and patted her husband’s cheek.
“How long have these lines been here?” she asked, her tone telling Alexis that anything less than the truth would not be accepted.
“Since yesterday,” he admitted.
“You worked hard to make sure I didn’t notice,” she responded. “While I applaud your effort, I condemn your deceit. I should make you stand up and give a speech on that.”
“I’m all speeched out.” Alexis grimaced as Eliza pressed her fingers to the wound.
“We need to get you to the physicians,” she replied.
“No,” Alexis said, his voice strong and unwavering. “I stay here. If I leave then this all falls apart. The meeting of passengers is more important than one wounded master of station.”
“Not to me,” Eliza snapped.
“Yes, even to you,” Alexis said and kissed her before she could argue. “Because it will be important to our children and our children’s children. This is my legacy, not a failed war on the planet.”
Eliza took a deep breath then let it out slowly.
“Fine,” she said. “But the second it is politically prudent for you to leave then you leave. No arguments.”
“No arguments,” Alexis nodded and kissed her again.
“Good,” she said as she pulled away and helped him settle his tunic. “Then call this meeting to order and let’s see what the people of Station Aelon have in store for us.”
* * *
From a far corner of the very top level railing, a man stood, a mess of wild, curly red hair tucked into the hood of a breen cloak. His hands were lifted in front of his eyes and stayed there for a long while. When they were finally dropped they revealed a set of binoculars clutched in his gloved fingers.
“Not quite the outcome we had hoped for,” a voice said from back in the shadows.
The hooded man turned to face the voice and peered into the gloom.
“For a moment there I thought the master would do my work for me,” the hooded man said. “He almost lost the station in one fit of homicidal rage.”
“You’d be surprised how many times that scenario has played out through the ages with the Teirmont family,” the shadowed man replied.
The man in the hood looked about and stepped towards the shadows, gesturing to a barely visible door set into the metal wall.
“Follow me,” the hooded man said. “We can talk in private.”
“I only have a couple of minutes before I’ll be missed,” the shadowed man replied.
“It will only take a couple of minutes,” the hooded man said as he opened the door and slipped inside.
The man in the shadows looked about the platform, but no one paid him any notice. They were all too engrossed in the proceedings below. He followed quickly and found himself in a tight corridor. The man in the hood was already several yards away, waiting by another door.
“For a man who is short on time, you sure are taking yours,” the hooded man laughed. “Get a sense of urgency, steward.”
“Quiet,” the shadowed man hissed as his face was illuminated by the dim lighting that flickered above. Steward Girard Stolt. “If anyone over hears you it will be both of our heads.”
“No, it will be your head,” the hood man replied. “I’m the outlaw and not exactly easy to catch.”
“I could call my guards right now and have you arrested,” Stolt responded. “I’d be an instant hero.”
“To the gentry, yes,” the other man said. “But not to anyone on the decks. And especially not to the lower decks. You’d become Target Number One like that.” He snapped his fingers then pointed to the door. “In.”
Stolt strode to the door and entered the small room, his muscles tense and eyes wary. It would be a perfect trap and the lower decks would make a killing if they ransomed him. At least that’s what Stolt wanted to believe. Deep inside he wondered if Master Alexis would even pay a single credit for his hide. Despite being cousins, their alliance was shaky at best.
“Sit,” the hooded man said. “There.”
“In the chair?” Stolt sneered. “What an amazing idea. And who would have thought the leader of the lower decks rebellion could be so creative.”
“Sarcasm is not your strong suit, steward,” the man replied as he removed his hood to reveal a handsome, youthful face. A mass of red hair poofed out from his head and he smoothed it down as best he could with his hands. “Stick with the threats, they sound more authentic.”
“You called me here,” Stolt glared. “Now what do you want?”
“More funds,” the man replied. “And weapons. I hear there’s a new sling being talked about on the surface. Tell me about it.”
“It’s nothing,” Stolt said. “Some idiot deck boss from one of my sectors believes he has created the best thing since our ancestors realized they could throw rocks to kill each other.”
“Never underestimate the power of a good rock,” the man laughed. “I learned that on Aelon Prime.”
“Right, you were a Vape miner once, weren’t you?” Stolt said. “Any nasty scars to show for it?”
“More than you have time to see,” the man said. “Tell me about the weapon.”
“It’s nothing, I tell you,” Stolt insisted. “And besides, I’ve made sure my agents squashed any chance of its production. The monarchy will not have access to any other weapons than you do.”
“That’s the problem, steward,” the man said. “We don’t have access to weapons. Unless you count monkey wrenches and bolt hammers. My men need blades. We need slings and flechettes. We need real arms if we are going to be able to truly fight.”
The man started to pace the room, his eyes never leaving Stolt’s.
“Do you have access to a weaponsmith?” the man asked.
“I do, of course,” Stolt replied. “I have a stable of them in each sector. When the station goes to war, the monarchy looks to me to outfit them.”
“You mean the monarchy looked to your father,” the man said. “You have yet to prove yourself with anything.”
“Then I’ll prove myself by getting you what you need,” Stolt said. “With a price, of course.”
“We can pay,” the man said. “There are others in places of power that have the same goals as the lower decks. Well, they think they do. You’re the only one that really knows our aim.”
“Complete independence,” Stolt sighed. “I know your pipe dream.”
“It’s not a dream,” the man said cooly. “You would be wise to believe that.”
He pulled a long roll of paper from his cloak and handed it to the steward.
“I need a hundred of those as soon as possible,” the man stated. “Plus regular long blades, short blades, slings and mounds of flechette cartridges. If this is going to be a war then I need war supplies.”
Stolt unrolled the paper and looked at the schematics before him. He shook his head and his eyes went wide.
“Do you know how much a blade like this will weigh?” he asked, shocked at the listed specs on the paper. “How can someone wield this? It would take two hands and even then I doubt it would be effective.”
“How heavy do you think a rotational torque wrench is? Or a span driver?” the man laughed. “That in your hands is nothing. Just like the real blades that will come from those plans will weigh nothing to us. We’ve been preparing for this for centuries. Now it is our time.”
“You mean it is your time,” Stolt said as he rolled up the paper. “But this isn’t just about you, is it? This is about you regaining some lost glory you believe your family possessed generations ago.”
Stolt stood and tucked the roll inside his own cloak he had wrapped about his tunic. He shook his head as he walked to the door.
“Be careful, Lucas Langley,” Stolt said at the door. “Most of the time staying in the shadows is better than being in the light.”
“Says the man that lives on the Surface,” Lucas Langley replied. “I’m sick of the shadows.”