“So much blood, my mistress,” the nurse cried, huge, fat tears tumbling down her cheeks like liquid boulders. “It was everywhere...there was nothing the physician could do for him.”
Eliza fell back into the chair, her hands clutched to her breast, stunned by the news.
“This can’t be,” she whispered. “He was still so young. He had so much of life to look forward to. Helios must be playing a cruel joke to take my beloved from me like this.”
“I am so sorry, my mistress,” the nurse sobbed. “We tried everything, but this strain of the weeping sickness is the worst seen in four generations. It’s tearing the station apart.”
“Take me to him,” Eliza said as she tried to stand. Stewardess de Morlan hurried over and helped the mistress to her feet. Eliza looked at her like she’d had no idea the woman had been close at hand for the past five days straight. “Oh, Lesha, there you are. Will you come with me as I say goodbye to my boy?”
“I will, your highness,” Lehsa said, her voice quavering with grief of her own. “Then I am afraid I must leave the court. I do not want to, but Alasdair’s remains have been released from quarantine and arrangements must be made for his internment.”
“Alasdair?” Eliza asked. “What has happened to your husband? Was he stricken as well?”
“Yes, your highness,” Lesha replied. “He passed just before your Bora was taken.”
“Oh...yes...that’s right,” Eliza sighed. “I’m sorry, Lesha. Do not bother with me. I can handle this on my own. Go to your estate and put your man with his ancestors.”
“I will, your highness,” Lesha responded. “Once I have done this task with you. I could not live with myself if I walked away. Alasdair is with Helios now. All that waits for me at the manor is an empty shell of the man I loved.”
“We are all empty shells now,” Eliza nodded. “Empty like the husks of dead honey wasp hives.”
“Don’t speak like that,” Lesha said as she brushed a stray hair away from Eliza’s forehead and tucked it behind her ear. “Alasdair and I lived a long, happy life. I have no regrets. You still have the rest of your children. Go to them, love them, hold them tight.”
“Bora is gone,” Eliza whispered. “My sweet girl. Helios took her and now the Dear Parent has taken my Thomas. Will Haley and James be next? Then my Esther and my Alexis? When does Helios’s thirst for souls stop?”
“This is not Helios, your highness,” Lesha replied. “This is just a disease. We have seen the weeping sickness before, we will see it again. It is a sad side effect of living in a station. Everything recycled, including illness. One day the physicians will know the cause.”
“The physicians know nothing!” Eliza roared, slapping at Lesha as she shoved away from her. “They just let it happen! They should be ejected into space, every last one of them!”
A slight cough was heard from the doorway and Eliza turned to it, her eyes nothing but roiling madness and pain.
“Your highness,” a man said, dressed in the robes of medicine. “I do not mean to interrupt.”
“Perhaps now is not a good time,” Lesha said, hurrying over to the physician. “Could you come back later when her highness is in a better state?”
“No, I am fine,” Eliza insisted. “Tell me what it is you have come to say, physician. More death? More agony for me?”
“I am sorry, your highness…” the physician responded. “But...yes. The young minor, James, has been taken ill. It is early, and we may be able to stop the progress of the disease in him yet, but it is confirmed he has the weeping sickness.”
Eliza looked at the physician then to Lesha. The mistress’s face went whiter than it had been, turning almost translucent. A slight twitch at the corner of her mouth began then increased and soon her face was nothing but contractions. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and her whole body started to spasm. She was on the floor in the blink of an eye and Lesha rushed to her.
“Your highness!” she cried. “Eliza! Eliza!”
The physician rushed to her as well and gently, but firmly, pushed Lesha out of the way. He touched the back of his hand to Eliza’s forehead then checked the pulse in her wrist while probing the glands under her chin.
“It has gotten to her as well,” the physician said. “I do not want to be the one to do this, but we must quarantine the entire royal quarters. These floors of Castle Quent are to be sealed at once.”
“I’ll alert the master,” Lesha said as she got up. “He’ll want to be with his family.”
“You will do no such thing,” the physician ordered. “This floor will be closed off then the master will be told. His health is of the utmost importance. We cannot risk him falling ill because of sentiment.”
Lesha’s palm struck the physician’s face across the cheek, leaving a red mark that equaled the sunsets on Aelon Prime. The man stood up, shocked and stared down at the stewardess.
“My lady,” he said. “I do not think—”
“Shut your mouth,” Lesha snapped. “And never call the love of a family ‘sentiment.’ Do you understand me? You physicians may be trained as cold, calculating clinicians, but the rest of us are not. Know your place, man, or find yourself stripped of that robe and assigned to the Vape mines on the planet. And not as a physician, but as a miner!”
“Yes, my lady, I apologize,” the physician bowed. “I forgot myself there.” He looked up and his eyes were fearful, but still determined. “This does not change the fact that the floor must be sealed off from the rest of the castle. As cold and calculating as that must sound, it is for the safety of the others at court as well as the master. This you must understand.”
“I do,” Lesha replied. “So go give the order. I will get word to the master once the job has been finished.”
“Thank you, my lady,” the physician nodded as he slowly backed out of the room. “I am truly sorry.”
“I do not doubt that,” Lesha said as a nurse hurried into the room and helped her get Eliza up and into the bed she shared with the master. “Just remember what I said and perhaps pass it on to your colleagues. Now is the time for discretion, not naked truths.”
“Yes, my lady.” The physician bowed just before leaving.
Lesha tucked the heavy breen comforter up to Eliza’s chin and gently stroked her hair.
“Sleep, your highness,” Lesha said. “I’ll watch over your little ones.”
Eliza opened her eyes and Lesha was shocked to already see the whites had turned blood red.
“Bring me my babies, Delihla,” Eliza said. “Let me hold their tiny bodies in my arms.”
Her eyes closed once more and Lesha sighed.
“Who is Delihla?” the nurse asked.
“It was the name of the nurse that accompanied her from Station Ploerv when she and Alexis were first wed,” Lesha frowned. “She died shortly after from a tragic lift accident. The mistress was to be with her, and the others that perished, but she had missed the lift because she and Alexis were, well, indisposed. Those two were so in love as teens, it was almost laughable to watch.”
“Are they not in love still?” the nurse asked then blushed. “Oh, I am sorry, my lady. That was rude of me to ask.”
“They are still in love,” Lesha said. “Deeply. I fear for Alexis’s stability when he is given the news of this.”
* * *
He rolled the plush leaves of the willow bush between his fingers as the servant stood there, legs shaking, eyes averted downward. Alexis didn’t say one word, just locked his eyes onto the young man. Seconds went by then minutes and unfortunately for the servant, a large stain began to spread across his crotch. He let out a quiet whimper, but didn’t move from his place in front of the master.
“Sire,” Stolt said as he leaned close to Alexis’s ear. “Can the poor boy be dismissed? I’m afraid he’s had an accident while trembling before us.”
“An accident…” Alexis mused. “Yes, I can see that. Do I strike so much fear in my subjects that they wet themselves when bringing me bad news?”
“It appears so, your highness,” Stolt said. “These are terrifying times and those with weaker constitutions than the royalty and nobility have reverted to animalistic behavior.” The steward glared at the still trembling young man. “Like shaows or grendts waiting for slaughter.”
“My...my...my...apolo...apologies,” the servant stammered. “I...was...I…”
“Begone,” Alexis said finally. “From my sight and from the castle. Return to your home and be with your family. The Final Feast is upon us and we now wait for Helios to devour the rest of the System.”
The servant’s eyes went wide with surprise.
“Just go,” Stolt said. “Be grateful you get to return to your loved ones.”
The servant turned and sprinted from the two men, hurrying from the royal gardens as fast as his urine slick legs would take him.
Stolt looked up at the artificial clouds contained within the station’s atmospheric shield. He’d always wondered what real clouds had looked like down on Helios before the Cataclysm changed the planet forever. His grandfather told him stories that had been passed down from generation to generation over the millennia about great puffy formations in the sky that looked like breen boles. Stolt wondered if the condensed moisture above him looked anything like those clouds from ancient times.
“I would like to see them,” Alexis said. “I would like to talk to them.”
He pressed his hand to his side and sighed. The wound he had been given during battle had split his body in the exact same spot as the assassination attempt so many years earlier. He had laughed about it causing not just “insult to injury, but injury to injury” and the court had found it very funny. But the jest was a rouse to ward off any suspicion of the true damage it had caused. The physicians had said he may never live without pain again; such was the extent of the wound.
Alexis turned to his now closest advisor. “Cousin? How do I see them? How do I speak with them?”
“We can connect you with them through the audio communication system,” Stolt said. “I am unsure how to make that happen since the system is designed to work in the shuttles and environmental suits only, but I am sure a tech can make it work. As for seeing them…?”
“Video?” Alexis asked. “Can that be done?”
“It may be possible,” Stolt said. “But the station’s internal system is ancient and hasn’t been used since your fourteenth great grandfather, uh, what was it called? Broadcast. Yes, since he broadcast his daughter’s wedding to the entire station.”
“Why did we not fix it sooner, cousin?” Alexis asked, his voice faded and far away. “A wonder of magic in small boxes. The world turned miniature and black and white.”
“It is an unreliable technology,” Stolt said. “A war of epic proportions was almost started because of the Grand Miscommunication between Thraen and Haelm. After that it was decided that we only communicate with other stations sparingly. Messengers and hard copies are more reliable within the station anyway.”
“I knew that,” Alexis snapped. “Do not school me like some child, Cousin! I am not some child!”
Alexis pressed harder against his belly and abruptly sat down in the neatly manicured scrim grass.
“Your highness!” Stolt exclaimed.
“Never mind about me,” Alexis snarled. “Go see to it that I can talk to my family. Do that now, Stolt. A moment’s hesitation may be too late.”
“Yes, sire.” Stolt bowed as he backed away. “I will fetch you when the preparations are complete.”
Alexis gave him a weak smile and waved his hand, dismissing the steward.
Stolt hurried from the garden, a sly smile on his face.
* * *
The small screen in front of Alexis flickered madly, static lines shooting across Esther’s grainy face.
“I haven’t been allowed to leave this room for days, Father,” Esther said, her eyes unsure of where to look. She kept flitting between staring directly into the camera or looking down at the screen that was provided to her as well. “They’ve given me Alexis to care for, but other than that I haven’t seen another soul. Except for the tech that came in to set this contraption up, my door hasn’t opened since Mother took ill and they rushed me and the baby here.”
“They are feeding you, yes?” Alexis asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The poor video quality gave him a migraine and he struggled to focus on the flickering light. “I know proper food stores have been sent up to the royal floors. They have been ordered to make sure you want for nothing.”
“They slide in food and drink through a hatch at the bottom of the door,” Esther replied. She looked about the small room she was in. “What was this place? A jail cell? Where am I?”
“The third spire. It was originally a jail for Master Gordon,” Alexis replied. “The one that went mad and killed his mistress and all but one of his heirs. He was held there until he passed.”
Esther stared directly into the camera, her eyes wide and angry.
“You have put me in a haunted room?” she snapped. “My baby brother and I need all of Helios’s help and you have them stick us in the Demon King’s cell?”
“Esther!” Alexis hissed. “We never use that word! Kings do not exist any longer. We are masters and mistresses, nothing more.”
“Same thing,” Esther replied.
“It is not the same—”
“It is so!” Esther shouted. “Changing the name does not change the reality! A master is a king, pure and simple! The name ‘master’ was only used after democracy failed. It was a compromise on the surface. Know who you are, Father. Master in name, but king in power.”
Alexis sighed and ran his hands down his face.
“I do not feel any power at this moment, my sweet girl,” he replied, all anger and frustration gone. “Helios is taking all of it, piece by piece.”
“Don’t say such things,” Esther responded. “The strength of the station is drawn from you. You cannot lose hope. If you do then all will and what will Station Aelon be then? Nothing.” She leaned in close to the camera and her face distorted into a round blob of flesh. “I believe in you, Father. You will make it through this.”
“Not if you die,” Alexis whispered. “To lose my first...I can’t…”
“You can,” Esther insisted. “You can and you will! Stay strong and know one day you will see your family again.”
There was a knock at the door and Esther turned.
“Who is it?” Alexis asked, hearing the faint voices that spoke to his daughter off screen. “Esther? What are they saying?”
The young woman tried to keep her composure, but the agony on her face betrayed her true emotions.
“Esther…?” Alexis asked as he heard his infant son start to wail. Esther stood up and left the picture as she fetched her baby brother. “Esther? Esther! What has happened?”
The minoress returned with baby Alexis in her arms and tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Mother…” was all she said.
Alexis pushed himself away from the small video screen and jumped to his feet. A deep rage filled his belly and he felt his wound burn with a hot agony that would have crushed any other man. But not Master of Station Aelon, Alexis the First. No, that man embraced the agony as his new direction in life.
If pain was all Helios wanted for him as master then pain was what he would become.
“Father?” Esther cried out. “Father, I can’t see you. Are you there, Father?”
Baby Alexis started to whine then full on screech as he picked up on the grief and hurt his sister felt.
“Father!” Esther shouted. “Please don’t leave us, Father! Please!”
* * *
The council sat around the long table, their eyes darting to the portraits of past masters that lined the great hall’s walls, interspersed with the faded tapestries depicting triumphs of reigns long since past.
Then all eyes turned to Alexis as he sat at the end of the table, his face turned up to look at the murals painted onto the ceiling.
“We should have those restored,” he said. “Return some life to the art of former reigns. History is important.”
The council waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, Steward Stolt, seated directly to the master’s right, cleared his throat.
“I believe the first order of business should be in welcoming Steward Veschy to the council,” Stolt announced. “As well as Steward Alote. Their input is welcomed during these harsh and trying times.”
“I am grateful for the honor,” Steward Alote nodded. “And thankful the same was not extended to Steward Thierri, as his kind is not worthy to be in the presence of the master.”
“Petty, petty shaowshit,” Alexis said calmly. “So filled with it that I can see it leaking from your eyes like the blood that leaked from my late wife’s and children’s.”
The table froze, silent and wary as the master stood up from his chair, the pain of the effort plain on his face.
“Do you think now is when we should air our rivalries, Steward Alote?” Alexis asked. “While my grief is thick like Vape fog? Are your words supposed to be ones of comfort while I digest the deepest sorrow any father or husband could possibly endure? Those are the words you so carefully chose to speak?”
“I am sorry for any disrespect, your highness.” Alote bowed. “It was inconsiderate of me to—”
“Come here, Melco,” Alexis ordered. “Stand before me so I can see your true nature.”
The steward looked about the long table, but did not find a single ally ready to come to his defense. He slowly stood and made his way down the table to the master.
“Kneel,” Alexis ordered.
“Yes, sire.” Alote nodded as he took a knee.
“Do you feel superior now, Malco?” Alexis asked, almost spitting out the steward’s first name like it was a hair stuck on the end of his tongue. “Is this the honor you deserve, but Steward Thierri doesn’t?”
“Again, I am sorry for—”
“Answer my fucking question!” Alexis roared as his hand whipped down and gripped the steward by the throat. With a strength none of the council thought the master still possessed, Alexis lifted the man up to meet him eye to eye. “Do you feel honored now?”
There was a slight chuckle from the far corner of the great hall and Alexis looked over quickly then smiled as he saw who it was.
“Corbin, what shall I do?” Alexis asked the former head of the royal guard who sat bent over in a wheelchair. “Should I crush his windpipe so he only croaks like a swamp mucker? Or should I kill him outright?”
“Piss on him,” Corbin slurred, his voice thick with a several days old gelberry wine drunk. “Or have a good squat and shit in his mouth.” The man slapped about his lap for another flask of wine, but came up empty. “Where’s my fucking drink?”
“Where’s his fucking drink?” Alexis echoed, tossing Steward Alote aside with a flick of his wrist. He pointed at one of the servants that stood by the wall. “Get that man a drink! He is a station hero and will always, always, be taken care of!”
“My gratitudes, sire,” Corbin said and attempted to bow, but only managed to half fall out of his wheelchair. “Oh, Helios, I pissed my trousers.”
Alexis burst out laughing and slapped at his thighs as he sat back down and Alote hurried back to his seat. “Corbin! You are the only breath of fresh air in this hall! Never leave me, good sir! I treasure you almost as much as I treasure Aelon!”
“I’ll promise never to leave you, sire, if you could have one of these worthless fucks fetch me some dry trousers,” Corbin replied, hiccupping bile. “Otherwise I will be forced to leave in order to properly dress myself. A man should never be in the presence of greatness with urine in his trousers.”
“Never wiser words have been said,” Alexis agreed and snapped his fingers. Several servants hurried from the hall, eager to fetch new trousers and take their leave from the sad scene.
“Could I steer us back to station business, your highness?” Stolt asked. “We should speak of the crown’s succession…”
Alexis slowly turned his head to face the steward, his royal eyes drilling into the man.
“Alexis will take the crown once I am gone,” Alexis replied. “What is there to speak of?”
“Yes, of course, sire, but since the royal floor is still under quarantine…?” The steward left the question hanging, hoping the master would see the significance himself. When Alexis only stared, Stolt cleared his throat and continued. “If baby Alexis were to perish then there must be a second heir in place for when you pass.”
“My son will not perish,” Alexis said. “He is protected by the arms of his sister, the Minoress Esther Teirmont. She will not let her brother die.”
“Sire, but Minoress Esther has been stricken as well,” Stolt replied.
“As I was when I was young,” Alexis said. “Yet I survived. It can be done, steward.”
“Of course, sire. But my worry is that the physicians have tried to remove minor Alexis from their chambers, yet the minoress refuses to give them the baby. She will infect the poor lad. Then who shall take the crown?”
“Esther will,” Alexis said and there were more than a few involuntary gasps from the council. The master smiled. “Oh, I’m sorry. Does that insult your sensibilities?”
“Your highness must know that is not possible,” Stolt said. “A woman cannot hold the crown because she must bear children. Who would rule the station while she is pregnant or nursing an infant? A mistress cannot go to war when she is in a delicate way. That just cannot happen.”
“Yes, yes, you are correct,” Alexis said. “Which is why we will not speak of succession ever again, am I clear? My son will live. He will rule once I am gone.”
“May that be many years from now,” Alote responded.
“Oh, shut up, man!” Alexis said. “Your sycophancy is worse than your idiotic ego.”
“Yes, sire,” Alote nodded.
“I said to shut up!” Alexis yelled as he picked up a glass and hurled it at the man.
It struck the steward square between the eyes and knocked him from the table. The council stood as one and peered over at the man.
“Did I kill him?” Alexis asked.
“I am fine, sire,” Alote replied as he gripped the table’s edge and clumsily pulled himself back into his chair. Blood poured from a gash on his forehead. “But I may ask to be excused to make myself presentable.”
“Sit and bleed, man,” Alexis responded. “Braver men than you have done so. Right, Corbin?” A loud snore was his response. “He’d agree with me if he wasn’t busy being so brave.”
“Sire—”
“Oh, cram it up your Vape hole!” Alexis yelled. “No more about the succession! I want to know what is being done about Langley! Tell me you are close to finding that lowdecker bastard!”
“Diggory has all of his men scouring the lower decks,” Stolt said. “He assures me the rebel will be found shortly.”
“He assures you?” Alexis laughed. “Oh, well, if a lowdecker assures you then everything must be nothing but happy pillows and wet muffins!”
Corbin snorted in his sleep and then let loose with a long, wet fart.
“Exactly!” Alexis cheered. The smile on his face slowly faded. “I want Langley taken alive. I want him taken within the week. Crush the lower decks and leave them bleeding, if that’s what it takes. The rebel will be kneeling before me in seven days or you will, Cousin Stolt. Understood?”
“Yes, sire,” Stolt nodded. “I will add my own men to the search immediately.”
“Your men haven’t been party to the manhunt?” Alexis asked.
“Not all, your highness, which is my mistake,” Stolt said. “A mistake that will be remedied as soon as I leave this hall.”
“Then leave,” Alexis said. “All of you. I call this meeting adjourned.”
No one argued and no one dallied. The master was soon left alone, except for a smattering of servants and the flatulent Corbin.
* * *
The door blew inward, just missing Langley as he slept curled up on the sacks of flour piled in the corner of the storeroom. The former rebel leader tried to jump to his feet, but several fists, as well as feet and clubs, kept him down. Despite the ferocity of the attack, the man took the beating without uttering a single cry.
“Back off, back off!” Diggory ordered as he shoved them out of the way. “Let me see the traitor!”
The men parted so Diggory could look down on the bleeding man that had once been his ally. He shook his head as he hooked a toe underneath Langley’s body and turned him over.
“Ah, look at that,” he sighed. “You’ve almost killed the man. You best pray to Helios that he lives long enough to be brought before the master.”
“As should you, Diggory,” Stolt said as he shoved men out of the way and entered the cramped storeroom. “You were the one tasked to find Langley. It will be your head on the end of a pike if the man perishes before Master Alexis can order his execution.”
“You forget that my position is equal to yours now, Stolt,” Diggory grinned. “Do not speak to me as if I am below you.”
“Yes, well, you are below me,” Stolt replied, matching Diggory’s grin. “As a lowdecker you will always be below me. Never think otherwise.”
“Are you two going to swordfight with your cocks all day or take me to the surface?” Langley mumbled through broken teeth. “I’d much rather die than listen to you two twats.”
“Then die you shall,” Stolt said. “Get him up to the surface immediately. He has an execution to make.”
* * *
“Your highness?” a man asked as he carefully walked into the great hall. “The work is complete, sire. The entire station will be able to watch the traitor’s execution as you requested.”
Alexis lifted his head from the long table as a string of gelberry colored drool dripped from his lip. He tried to focus on the man then gave up and laid his head back down.
“What’s your name?” Alexis slurred.
“Lead Tech Jin Webley, sire,” the man replied as he bowed. He glanced at the servants along the walls, but none returned his gaze. “I oversaw the work myself, your highness. If there are any problems then I take full responsibility.”
Alexis rousted himself once more and leaned back into his chair. The stench of stale liquor and spoiled food filled the great hall, but the lead tech made sure not to show he noticed as the master drunkenly studied him.
“It’s a rare thing these days for any man to claim full responsibility,” Alexis sighed. “You are either a man of great foolishness or a man of great honor. Which is it?”
“I would have to plead the former, sire,” Webley replied. “For no man could be of great honor when in your presence. To say so would be an affront to the crown.”
Alexis laughed and clapped his hands together. “Well said, sir! Well said! Someone bring this man a glass and let him share drink with me!”
“I thank you, your highness, but I do not drink,” Webley said cautiously. “My constitution does not agree with spirits in any form. My body would rebel instantly and I would embarrass myself in front of you.”
“Oh? Is that so?” Alexis asked as he motioned for his own glass to be refilled. “Do spirits loosen your inhibitions? Make you dance like a whore wanting the credits dangled before her?”
“No, sire, it is my stomach,” Webley replied. “I, well, uh, get sick.”
“Sick?” Alexis snorted. “I know what sick is. I know all too well.”
The lead tech did not respond, but stood there, waiting for his dismissal.
“Come, Womberly!” Alexis announced as he stood up. “Show me how this ‘broadcast’ will work!”
Webley did not correct the master as he snapped his fingers and two young men wheeled in a stack of electronic equipment topped by a large video screen. A third young man followed closely behind with a bulky square camera bolted to a tripod he had slung over his shoulder. The men, including Webley, quickly set up the equipment then stood to the side.
“Would you like me to do the honors, sire?” Webley asked. “Or would you prefer to be the first master in several centuries to activate this technology?”
“No, no, you do it,” Alexis said as he stumbled closer and peered directly into the lens of the camera. “Can’t risk my soul being stolen by this contraption.”
Again, Webley kept his thoughts to himself. He nodded to one of the techs and the young man began flicking switches on the stack of equipment while Webley set about turning on the camera. A slight hum and buzz could be heard as the camera warmed up then the screen on top of the equipment came to life, showing an image of Master Alexis standing there in all his drunken glory.
The master nodded and waved at the camera, amused by the immediate response on screen.
“Just like the video communications I used to speak to my daughter when she was in quarantine,” Alexis said. “Not so special really.”
Webley smiled weakly and nodded then diplomatically said, “Yes, but the image this camera catches will be beamed to hundreds of screens set up in atriums and parlors on every deck of Station Aelon. A far cry from the closed circuit connection of the communication system.”
“Same thing,” Alexis responded dismissively. “As long as the passengers get to witness the traitor’s execution then I am pleased.”
“They will, sire,” Webley said. “The only issue is there will be no sound. My deepest, deepest apologies, but the circuitry refused to behave and we found too many shorts in the wires to make it work.”
“No worries on that,” Alexis said. “As long as the people can see what happens, that is all that matters.”
“Again, sire, they will,” Webley nodded. “Where shall I set up the camera? Will it be in the main courtyard of Castle Quent?”
“No, no, no,” Alexis grinned. “That is where all the executions have been held. No, this location will be special.” He clapped his hands loudly and one of the techs squeaked with surprise. “Follow me, gentlemen. I’ll show you myself!”
* * *
The lowdecker’s mass of red hair was matted and flat against his skull as he was led towards the airlock. He kept his head down and refused to look at the nobility that had assembled in the passageway to see him die. It wasn’t until he was directly in front of the airlock door did he look up.
“Hello, Lucas,” Alexis said as the guards kept Langley just out of kicking range. “I have been looking forward to this day.”
“As have I,” Langley replied. “They are already writing songs about me. This will give the bards a fitting end to my saga.”
“Well, far be it for me to deny artists their muse,” Alexis responded. “I believe this execution will be legend for centuries to come. Shall I explain how it will go?”
“Your highness?” Stolt asked, stepping forward. “It would be more practical, and prudent, if you stood to the side and let the grand executioner take over from here.”
“Today I am the grand executioner, cousin,” Alexis stated. “Does anyone present have an issue with that?”
“Sire, please,” Stolt said. “I am not arguing with you, but I believe your weeks of grief have left you without full use of your faculties. Again, I am not arguing or trying to insult you, sire.”
“Stop sucking my ass, Stolt,” Alexis said, his sour breath nearly too powerful for the steward to bear. “I’m not going to eject you into space for trying to give me advice. I’m not my grandfather.”
“I did not mean to imply you were, your highness,” Stolt bowed. “I shall step aside and let you commence with the justice. I have been informed that the camera is operational and we are now being seen by every man, woman, and child on the station.”
“Are we?” Alexis asked as he turned to find the camera tucked to the side. He frowned and looked about the passageway. “Where is Wombley?”
“Webley, sire?” Stolt asked.
“Who?”
“Webley, the lead technician? Is that who you are asking for?”
“Right. That guy,” Alexis said.
“I’m here, your majesty,” Webley said as he pushed past the rows of nobility that blocked him. “How can I be of assistance?”
“Will the camera see what happens inside the airlock?” Alexis asked.
“No, sire, not until we wheel it forward.”
“Then do so now!” Alexis ordered. “Because now this man dies!”
Guards opened the airlock and Langley got a good, hard look at his fate. For the first time since being held captive, he actively fought against his bonds and tried to dig his feet in as he was dragged forward.
“You are an animal, Alexis!” Langley yelled as he saw the heavy chains attached to large, metal weights. In the center of the airlock was a thick post, bolted directly into the floor. “What did I do to you to deserve such cruelty?”
“You pissed me off,” Alexis stated. “Then my family died. I look at this as an exorcism of all the evil in this station. Once you are gone then all will return to normal and Station Aelon will be at peace once again.”
“You are a mad fool if you believe that,” Langley hissed as his back was forced up against the post so that he was facing the passageway. Heavy chains were strapped about his torso so that he could not budge a single inch.
“No, Langley, just a sad, tired monarch,” Alexis admitted. “I hope this act will be enough to let me rest once again.”
Langley started to argue, but a guard punched him in the mouth, sending the last couple of teeth he had left clattering to the floor. Alexis did not protest at the man’s treatment, in fact he seemed to revel in it.
The nobility in attendance shifted nervously as they watched the guards attach the chains around Langley’s forearms and calves. Alexis glanced over his shoulder to see what reception the rebel leader’s treatment was getting and was disappointed by the preponderance of frowns.
“Cheer up, you lot!” Alexis yelled. “This is a celebration!”
Forced smiles bloomed like mold on week old bread and Alexis shook his head in frustration.
“Never can please the nobility,” Alexis muttered to himself. “Father was right. There’s no use trying.”
Finished securing Langley to the post, and the chains with weights to his arms and legs, the guards exited the airlock and closed and sealed the door. The porthole into the airlock wasn’t large enough for the crowd to see in so they all turned their attention to the boxy screen set up just to the side. Alexis, however, moved forward and peered through the porthole, his eyes locking with Langley’s one last time.
“Your highness?” Webley said from behind him. “I need to place the camera now.”
“Of course, Wombley,” Alexis said. “My apologies.”
There were barely contained gasps at the monarch’s apology to a commoner, but all quickly shut up when Alexis turned towards the crowd. He bowed to all then placed his attention squarely on the screen while his hand was squarely on the airlock release lever.
“All set, Wombley?” Alexis asked.
“Yes, sire,” Webley replied. “The subject is in focus and the camera is broadcasting. It is all in your hands now.”
“Isn’t it always,” Alexis said under his breath. He looked at the assemblage and started to speak, but decided against a long speech and just slammed the lever down.
A claxon rang out as the opposite side of the airlock began to slide open onto one of the station’s few access tunnels that led outside of the atmospheric shield. Although no sound came through the airlock door, Alexis imagined he could hear the roar of the wind as the air escaped around the condemned man and was sucked out into space.
Langley’s mouth opened in an unheard scream as the weights attached to the chains were lifted into the air, pulled by the vacuum of open space. The man’s arms were yanked backwards and legs lifted at unnatural angles while his torso stayed securely in place. Langley’s extremities started to bend further until it looked like he was a child’s toy that had met some irresponsible demise.
The crowd gasped as Langley’s right arm began to tear away from his body. The blood was instantly whisked away by the vacuum, but there was still plenty of gore as muscles started to rip and tendons popped from the brute force. Langley’s left arm joined the first, then his right leg followed by his left leg.
A few of the noblewomen, and more noblemen than would admit later, gagged and tore their eyes away from the screen, the horror too much for them. Alexis watched in fascination as one by one, Langley’s limbs ripped off of him and flew through the tunnel and out into the cold of space, forever fated to float through the System.
Alexis reached out and shoved the airlock lever back into its original position. The claxon stopped and Langley’s body sagged, held against the post only by the many chains.
“Open it,” Alexis ordered and the guards moved forward and swung wide the airlock door.
Blood dripped from Langley’s stumps as Alexis stepped inside the airlock and right up to the tortured man’s face.
“Can you hear me, traitor?” Alexis snarled. “Show me you can hear the voice of the man that has beaten you.”
“You...can...never...beat...me,” Langley whispered. “I...will...die...your...equal. History...will prove...that.”
“You flatter yourself and inflate your importance,” Alexis sneered. “History is written by the victors, not the scum like you.”
“You...assume...you...are the...victor,” Langley said, still managing a smirk.
“Finish it,” Alexis ordered as he turned abruptly and left the airlock. “Move it. Now!”
The guards dragged in one last chain and weight and affixed it around Langley’s neck. Alexis stopped outside the door and once more placed his hand on the lever. Once the guards had exited and the door was closed, he wasted no time in slamming the lever down for the last time.
No gasps, no gags, no sounds from the crowd; they stood stunned as the chain crushed Langley’s neck and sent his head flying out of the airlock. Alexis watched the flow of blood from Langley’s headless torso slow then stop altogether. When the last drop was gone, Alexis closed the airlock and walked to the porthole.
“Take it away,” he ordered and Webley did not hesitate as he removed the camera from the airlock door.
The nobility waited in silence as the master stared through the small circle of glass at what was left of his enemy.
“Your highness?” Stolt asked, finally approaching the monarch. “Shall I have the invited guests proceed to the great hall for the banquet?”
“Yes,” was all Alexis said.
Stolt did not press the issue and turned to motion for everyone to leave. None of the nobility hesitated and soon the passageway was clear except for Alexis who stood stock still at the airlock porthole.
Seconds, minutes, an hour went by without the master moving a muscle.
“Father?”
“Mmmmm?” Alexis replied as Esther walked up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder.
“Father, everyone is wondering where you are,” Esther said as she moved next to the man and took her own firsthand look at the bloodless torso still held to the post. “Cousin Stolt has grown worried and some of the stewards are beginning to wonder if you haven’t lost your mind.”
“Are they?” Alexis asked, tearing his attention from the airlock so he could focus on his oldest child. He looked at her face and his heart nearly broke as he saw so much of his beloved wife looking back at him. “I will assure them later that I may have lost almost everything in my life, but my mind cannot be counted within that tally.”
He frowned at Esther and looked about the passageway.
“Where’s Alexis?”
“In our quarters. With three nurses,” Esther stated. “And two physicians as you ordered he shall always be.”
“Good,” Alexis said. “That is good.”
The man stretched and cracked his neck then rolled his shoulders and smiled down on the young woman who was his daughter.
“Escort me to the banquet?” he asked.
“But of course, Father.” Esther nodded. “That is why I came to fetch you. This is a time when you need family.”
“And Helios knows we are short on that, we Teirmonts,” Alexis laughed hollowly.
“Family is not measured in numbers, Father, but counted in the love felt,” Esther responded. “As long as there is you and me and little Alexis then there will always be a Teirmont family.”
“And my sister,” Alexis said. “Where was your aunt this evening? She did not attend the execution.”
“She said she has had her fill of blood for a lifetime,” Esther said. “I don’t blame her.”
“Neither do I,” Alexis nodded. “Unfortunately, as master, there will be so much more blood in my future. There always is.”
“Does there have to be, Father?” Esther asked. “Can this not end things?”
“No,” Alexis said. “There are those that will always rise up against the crown. Not just in Station Aelon, but from the other stations. And the primes…”
Alexis and Esther walked silently the rest of the way to the banquet hall, trailed and watched over by royal guards the entire way. The added security disturbed Esther, but she kept that fact to herself. She knew, despite her wishful thinking, that the lower decks were not at rest. Even with Moses Diggory in charge, the lowdeckers would never forget the execution of one so beloved as Lucas Langley.
There was a huge cheer when the two royals entered the great hall, but Esther could feel the hollowness of it. Broad smiles didn’t meet wide eyes, the clapping was wooden and automatic, the cries of “Huzzah!” rehearsed and forced. Esther wondered if her father might have made more enemies by killing just one.
“Thank you!” Alexis yelled as he raised his hands to quiet those assembled for the feast. “I thank each and every one of you for your loyalty and support!”
The hall quieted down and the nobles and gentry took their seats, all eyes on the master.
“Over the next few days I will be announcing some changes to Station Aelon,” Alexis said. “The execution of the traitor does not mean the conflict is over. There is much that must be done to repair the damage, both physically and spiritually, perpetrated by Langley and his rebellion. Many joined him that did not wish to, but were forced to believe in his campaign. I will be listening to pleas of mercy and I promise to be fair.”
There were some nods, but many grumbles as well. Esther could see the distrust in the nobles’ eyes, but she could also see the bloodlust that still thirsted for “justice.”
“The council will confer and decide the next meeting of stewards and meeting of passengers,” Alexis said.
Someone coughed an expletive and Alexis frowned as he searched the hall for the offender.
“Did you think I would abandon the passengers?” Alexis asked. “All people of Station Aelon deserve a voice. I refuse to listen when that voice comes in the form of heavy blades, but I will listen when presented as reason instead of treason.”
The hall laughed at the slight joke.
“Men are men and not animals,” Alexis said. “Treating a man like a shaow or grendt is not how we as the royalty or nobility should rule. We give men a voice and they will give us their hearts.”
“What about women?” a high voice asked from the back of the hall.
There were some audible gasps and angry rumbling instantly.
“Ha, yes, women need a voice as well,” Alexis said. “But perhaps that voice is best left inside the family quarters? A woman’s voice should be what children hear, what a husband hears, yet not what a meeting hears.”
The men of the hall cheered at that proclamation, as did many women, but some held back. Esther was one that held back and she gave a sharp, reproachful look towards her father.
Then she caught sight of her aunt standing by one of the hall entrances. Their eyes met and Esther could see the sadness held there. Melinda turned abruptly and stalked away from the hall, leaving Esther alone to ponder the real meaning of her father’s words.
“But enough of this tedious business!” Alexis called out. “Eat! Drink! Enjoy the night for the traitor is finally dead!”
That time the cheers and “Huzzahs!” were genuine and the entire hall got down to the business of celebrating. Alexis looked at his daughter and the twinkle of triumph in his eye that had been so present during his speech faded away quickly. Esther raised an eyebrow, but Alexis only shook his head as he sat down to the huge plate of food that was set before him, having to be carried by two servants.
A much more modest plate was set before Esther and she thanked the young man that brought it to her before taking her own seat. She picked at the food, pretending to eat with the same joy and abandon as the rest of the hall, but she mainly pushed the portions around. As the night continued, she laughed at the right jokes, blushed at the right compliments, acted offended at the right drunken insults, and ignored the ones that should have been ignored.
Yet, as the evening moved from night and into early morning, Esther couldn’t help notice that her father kept glancing over at her. And as he drank more and more gelberry wine, it was obvious that something distressed him deeply. Esther knew it wasn’t the usual pain of loss that had possessed him since her mother’s and siblings’ deaths, but something else. Something new…
“Over the next few days I will be announcing some changes to Station Aelon,” Alexis said.
Esther had to wonder what those changes would be and how they affected her. A pit in her stomach opened as she considered the possibilities.
* * *
“I am master and the decision has been made,” Alexis said as he drank his tea.
Two days had passed since the feast and he had been busy writing a speech that would let the people of Station Aelon know exactly what changes were to be made. Unfortunately for Esther, she would not be on the station to hear the speech as her father had just informed her.
“The prime?” Esther gasped. “I’m a minoress! You want me to go and live amongst the miners and planet trash?”
“There are some fine people down on Aelon Prime,” Alexis replied. “I spent many a summer riding skids across the scrim grass plains and boating on the royal cutters. You and your brother will love the relaxed life the prime can bring.”
“And I am to be their nanny, is that it Alexis?” Melinda asked from her seat in the corner. Her own tea had grown cold, just like the look she gave her brother. “Babysit the next master and train up the minoress so she can be married off to one of the other stations? I should thank you, but I just can’t seem to find the words.”
“Shaowshit!” Esther shouted. “How’s that for a word?”
“It’ll do the job.” Melinda frowned.
“You two seem to believe this is a debate,” Alexis said.
“No, dear brother, I have no illusions to that end,” Melinda said. “I know your feelings on the standing of women on Station Aelon. Perhaps when I am in charge of the estate on Aelon Prime I can implement my feelings on the subject. Far away from the prying eyes of our benevolent master.”
“Don’t try me, Sister,” Alexis grumbled. He barely dodged the teacup as it flew at his head. “Melinda!”
“You and me!” Melinda roared as she stood up and charged the master. “That is all that is left of our family!”
Alexis stood to meet her and the minoress slowed when she saw the rage upon his face. He was an imposing figure and even her fury couldn’t dampen the fear he instilled as he towered over her.
“And now there is just myself and my brother,” Esther said, placing a gentle hand on Melinda’s shoulder. “Auntie? Father has made a decision and it is our duty, not just as women of the family, but as loyal subjects to the crown, that we obey that decision.” She turned and smiled up at her father. “When does the shuttle leave?”
“First thing in the morning,” Alexis said. “It is short notice, but it is the only window you have. The next few weeks of orbital synchronization and planetary access are taken up with shipments to and from The Way Prime. It is either tomorrow or three months from now. I prefer it happen immediately.”
“Of course,” Esther nodded then curtsied. “I will prepare my things.”
“Your servants are packing as we speak,” Alexis said then looked at his sister. “As are yours.”
“Eliza would be furious with you,” Melinda spat. The sudden slap from her brother rocked her head back and blood came away as she wiped her mouth. “You are lost.”
“I am master,” Alexis said and sat down. “It’s the same thing.”