| |
Sam stretched and sat up in her bed in her room in the Fleistian fortress. It was nice to be home. Servants for her every whim, Groga soldiers at her command and her very own unique mount to traverse the dimensions with.
Her parents had not been pleased, however, with her venture into the Dimensional Alliance Headquarters. They had warned her that any further misadventures would cost her. Lately, it seemed like nothing she could do pleased anyone. She had been severely scolded and barely escaped more serious punishment. Her protestations of good intentions hadn’t impressed her parents much.
She had imagined coming home victorious, acclaimed by the court and her people as a great and canny warrior. Instead, she had been publicly humiliated for her immature spur-of-the-moment, egotistical stunt. Stunt! Like she was just doing it for attention. Like she didn’t totally shake up things in the Alliance.
She sneered at the very thought of them and couldn’t help but gloat to know that their spies reported that the leadership of the Alliance had been busted apart with the death of Ingot. How could they possibly put it off like it was some kind of childish prank? They had grounded her like some Earthling teenager. Ziggin had been quarantined in one of the stables underground, and she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere near him. Evidently he couldn’t transport out of there, due to some kind of new tech they had installed since the last invasion by Tarafau’s people.
Not that he would be able to go anywhere, anyway. He was probably an outlaw to his home world and sought after by their agents.
In the meantime, everything had been turned upside down. It turns out her parents hadn’t chosen very wisely themselves. The Inseni Emperor had been deposed in a wild revolt by the slaves and even their Groga. This was unthinkable. Upon hearing this, her father, King Namal, had brought the command of the Groga into the fortress to stand and report.
They seemed clueless about the revolt and protested their undying loyalty.. Namal rousted some of his own troops and a few trolls to oversee them.
Gall had come to visit, and it had been horrible. She was present to watch her parents grovel in terror after Gall had subjected them to some kind of shock torture, electrifying the thrones on which they sat while they writhed in agony. She found herself wondering how he did that and whether she might be able to get ahold of that kind of technology. She had heard that Gall had killed Burt; a bright moment on a dark day.
Gall had pretty much ignored Sam, for which she had been grateful. He had announced that they were no longer to report to Emperor Peril, but that he was the Overlord of All and they could address him as Overlord or Lord Gall. He also told them he had retuned their gate to go directly to his command post on a world he called Xatal.
Her mother had burst into wracking sobs when Gall had finally left them. Her father had slapped her and screamed at her to stop to no avail. She had fallen into a heap on the dais floor in front of her throne and would not be moved or consoled for over an hour. That shook Sam more than just about anything. She had never seen her mother like that. “It is the end!” she screamed, over and over, “the end, the end, the end...”
Her father had dismissed her when her mother had finally subsided, still whispering, “the end” continuously. Her father had simply told Sam to go to her room and stay there until he called for her.
She felt like somehow, they blamed her for the visit from Lord Gall, but she couldn’t see how. And for the first time in her life, she didn’t think of her parents as grand, regal, fearless monarchs. For the first time, she saw true fear in them, and it made her sick. Especially after their chastisement of the week before. It grated on her like the incessant buzzing of an insect.
She threw on some clothes and pushed the buzzer for her servant. Moments passed...Nothing. She buzzed again...Nothing. She buzzed for her guards. In both cases, her guards and servants lived in the apartments right beside hers, and they should have been there nearly instantly. But the guards didn’t respond. Now she was truly irritated. She was hungry and needed news. Being restricted to her room was exactly that. She waited, but whole minutes passed.
She pressed both buzzers over and over, first in anger and then in panic. Were her parents so angry with her that they now intended to starve her? Surely not!
She attempted mindspeech, “Mother? Are you alright?”
...Silence.
“Father, may I speak?”
...No reply.
Now Sam wasn’t just worried, she was afraid. What could have happened to keep her parents from at least acknowledging her attempts to communicate?
Was this some kind of test? Was this more punishment, what Jenny would have called “the silent treatment”? Hmmph. Jenny. She didn’t want to think of that insignificant twit right now. She would get hers. Sam would see to it. She realized she had stopped thinking of herself as Engoza a long time ago. And Sam she would be until she was sure that Jenny had been permanently dealt with, dishonored, repudiated, tortured, and finally killed. This was all HER fault; all of it.
As she paced back and forth in the living room of her huge suite, she got angrier and angrier. She let it build up in her. She was furious. Not at herself. Not at her parents. She was furious with Jenny and those self-righteous prigs of the Alliance.
Who did they think they were, after all? Who gave them the right to “guard” the multiverse like it was their personal property? Who gave them the right to set the rules for the rest of them? Them and their vaulted freedoms. Who were they to stop the valiant efforts of those who would create order in the multiverse?
It was vital that no system be left out to challenge them. It might take many years, perhaps eons to establish lasting dominance, but it would be worth the sacrifice when everyone was exactly equal, completely the same. It would mean the end to pain, conflict, and desertion.
Parents, for instance, would no longer be able to choose how to treat their children, there would be laws and oversight. Bosses would not be able to promote someone over another person without approval from the government. No one would be able to charge more for their goods, or less, than anyone else. People would no longer be allowed to take risks that might harm them or another person. Art, literature, and invention would all be regulated, so that no one would ever be insulted or passed over; complete and utter equality in all things.
And what if it took wars and strife? What if it meant that some brilliance would be dimmed? What if it meant that technology would be slowed? People would no longer work for reward or kudos. There would be no competition, no need for envy. And no one would be troubled with ever having to make decisions. That burden would be taken from them.
Every being in the multiverse would be governed by the same rules and all would comply or die. There WOULD be order!
But for now, Sam was hungry and frightened. What could she possibly have done that would have her completely abandoned? Why wasn’t anyone answering her mental calls for help or even just communication?
For the first time in her life, living in the massive Fleistian fortress, she wished for a window. She felt utterly alone for the first time ever.
As time passed, she fumed and continued to buzz her buzzer and call out mentally to anyone who might answer her until finally, when the day was half over, she couldn’t help herself. She prepared herself for a conflict with her parents, but she couldn’t continue in this condition.
She walked past the tapestry scenes of violence and war without even seeing them. She pounded on the locked doors of her servants...nothing. Her guards...nothing. She passed no one in the corridor, but on this floor, that wasn’t unusual. She practically ran down the several flights of stairs to the main floor, still not encountering a single being. While she strode forward, nearly running now, she continued to call out; those mental calls becoming more and more plaintive.
She entered the cavernous hall that traversed the full width of the huge indoor complex; torches flickering dimly, as if they were running out of fuel. To someone who hadn’t grown up here, this would feel foreboding, as it was designed to do.
It was so far from one torch to another that the light from one torch didn’t quite overlap with the light from the next set of torches. As she hurried, her heart was in her throat. How angry would her parents be with her for breaking her restriction? They would consider her weak and childish for coming to them this way.
They obviously didn’t want to see her. They were ignoring her, punishing her for being such a great disappointment, and now she was about to make it worse.
She nearly turned back. But the eerie stillness, the lack of a single guard which should have been stationed under every set of torches along this path, the lack of sighting a single soul from her room to this point had her in a panic. When she finally neared the throne room, she gulped and straightened the cloak she wore for audiences with her parents. It would never have done for her to come dressed casually before her parents where anyone might see her. Taking a deep breath, she strode forward at a more measured pace, trying to appear composed and respectful of the royal presence.
But when the raised dais with their thrones finally came into view, there was no royal presence, no guards, nothing.
She turned and ran in the only direction she could think of...out. As she pelted back the way she had come, she noticed that some of the torches had flickered and gone out. Not good. Not good.
She reached the outer doors and there were no guards standing there. She pushed the huge doors open with an effort. No guards outside the doors. What could possibly be happening?
As she stepped from the entrance and finally could see around her, she fell to her knees...Nothing. In the distance was the Groga city and encampment, dark smoke rising in massive clouds above it. In the nearly dark, it was all the more ominous, as the clouds were lit rosily from below by low flickering flames, like the coals of a dying fire.
What had happened here? Had the Alliance decided to take vengeance? Had the Cindu decided to eliminate them finally? Whoever had done this was very thorough. She doubted a single one of her people had been missed by whoever had removed them. The silence of the inner fortress, the absolute lack of discernable life, was more frightening than anything Sam had ever experienced.
Where were her parents, her people? How could she possibly have been overlooked?
She sobbed and screamed until her voice gave out and her strength with it. At long last, she passed out there on the ground and for a long time, she knew nothing.
