I don’t know where petty vengeance stops and grand vengeance starts, but I’m pretty sure I’m in the grand category, especially with these grand stands.
“I’m digging the arcuate shape, Camacho, good call.”
“Those banners of you and the other Founders are an eyesore. Though you in the crown is a nice touch. Very witness my glory.”
“The bunting around town is super cute. I’m not sure handing out sparklers to kids was a good idea, but they seem to love them.”
“Oh man, this was worth the credits already. Did you hear that little boy? ‘I’m playing with fire!’” I cackle, perhaps madly, while my two helpers laugh with me.
“Oh, no. Here comes the frown parade.” Naomi calls. I look around, but it takes Camacho to push my chin over and up to see the gaggle of politicians shuffle out of the building.
“We best get up there then.” I put up a privacy octogon, change into Guiseppe’s magnificent dress top that opens to slacks, but it has been modified with low Chinese collar. I love it. I put on the pendant and my crown and banish the privacy barrier.
“I’m setting my tone, ignore me.” I take a deep breath. “Attend me mortals. Isn’t it just simpler to obey your Empress?” A short evil chuckle later and I’m ready.
I sashay toward the steps and low-key levitate up them in my fancy-ass boots. “Ladies, gentlemen, So good of you to celebrate the founding of this great City, and the Empire as a whole. I will, of course, remember the kindness.” And your fucking idiocy. Mongrels.
I flip aside part of my dress to plant my hand on my hip and cock it with expectation. I get a soft whistle from Melissa I half turn to wink and smile at my fellow “Founders” and turn back to see the crowd filling into the Bleachers. I put mics at points along the stands railings in case an AMA breaks out.
As the Governor begins with a local rendition of ‘Friends, Romans, Countrymen’ the pedestrians start walking up the steps and a mob rushes out from behind the bleachers—arranged in a crown shape. Music starts on the PA and the crown starts dancing. Then the mob opens up into a dance circle where a lady dressed similar to me in a foil crown breaks it the fuck down. Then the mob praises her, then raises her, then scatter to the winds; all while Empire State of Mind plays.
Damn, that was worth every, single, credit. The crowd was awed and the old guys were flummoxed, with all that silence, I pick up the mic.
“Alright, props to that crew. I enjoyed it. You know what else I enjoy? All of you lovely Citizens coming out to celebrate the founding of Humanity’s life amongst the wider galaxy. Melissa Hunsaker, Consul O’Connell, and Consul Summers were critical components to Humanity’s survival as we were stranded in space, 2700 light years from home, and we persevered. Not content with just ensuring our voyage home would be successful, they entertained my vision of finding a home amongst the stars, helping plant the foundations that would be Aelea and the Astorian Empire.
“Time for some extra shouts, Consul Summers single-handedly generated interest in Human goods and services that now find us as the fastest growing demand for food and services amongst the Exchange!” I actually get some applause for that one.
“Now, while the Founders, and later some change-craving men and women were instrumental in creating the network that allows us all to teleport pizzas into ovens and contact our loved ones across the Milky Way; we should take a moment to honor the victims on the Copernicus and Galilei that sacrificed to pioneer our way forward to this moment.”
I have Tessa block signals to the PA for a whole minute. I see the Governor try to interrupt the moment for our mutated and fallen, and I will never forget it, though I predicted it.
“Finally, I would like to invite every citizen who lost someone to the swarm to send a message to my office. I intend to erect a monument to the fallen and your input would be appreciated.”
You know I can just send you their names.
But those that reply will give a personal touch and seeing that in the monument will make us all feel closer, more involved in this experiment. She chirps in understanding.
“Now that I’ve talked more than you’ve ever heard from me. I’m not sure whether to apologize or congratulate, but in either case, I give you the Governor or Aelea!”
He scowls at me as he takes the mic from me. I want to be petty and disconnect it, but I’m already ten points up on the man this afternoon. I take a few steps back, summon a chair, maybe a throne, and sit in it.
>M] Is it too late to say I’m sorry I didn’t participate? That was majestic. [<
>P] Thanks Mel. But a little bit, yeah. We can talk later if you like. [< She pings the affirmative.
“That was masterful, Penny.” Franny says, sitting on the arm of my impromptu throne. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were flirting with me with those statements.”
I smile at her, “You’re a good friend, that I do not talk with enough. That was mostly a heartfelt apology.”
“Accepted, but I already thought the little notes when you order from me were cute enough to keep our friendship alive. Now when are you burning down the Mansion?”
I body laugh and squeeze her knee briefly. “I won’t be burning it. I do have plans, but those can wait a few extra moments.”
Her features soften, “You should come over for a drink. We can both vent and foolishly ride some Murder Chickens.”
“Oh! Yes please, pick a day this week and it’s a date, and two, I have a seriously irresponsible idea I want to try.”
“You got it,” She smiles, puts her hands to her mouth and then performs a ridiculous bow, “Your Imperious Majesticosity” I snort and chuckle with her, not caring what the Governor and his Politicians are doing.
The Governor had a speech prepared, and continued through it as people left the stands to move about the ring road and pick up the sparklers that I had planted. When that little boy started yelling about fire again I was tempted to join him. Camacho puts a hand on my arm and says something about decorum or whatever.
When the crowd disperses, I move the bleachers to the next event, which is apparently a water show. I split the seats up on opposite sides of the Lake. I look up to Naomi and ask, “What’s next for today?”
“You have a meeting with a representative of the Navoli Republic. Carniverous Vole people from the Andromeda Galaxy. They are looking for a hunting moon.”
“Okay, lunch meeting it is. Meat-centric, Ring Road, I’ll make a patio. Time?”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Half an hour.” Shit.
Octagon screen goes up, Huntress clothes go on. Dressed in my kills, I feel a little gross, but a hunting focused group of ground dwellers should appreciate it. When we get to the restaurant, it seems that Naomi told them of my preferences and brought a grill Lakeside and set up a private table.
“Sir, this is far outside of the five meters from your shop.”
“Your assistant say you like lake, we make grill by lake with Table by lake. You like?”
I chuckle “I like very much.”
“You Empress, who say no? Eh?” His accent is thick, and his thick Portuguese pigeon is hilarious.
“Alright, meat man, bring many meats.”
He points to a ten pound slab of meat on the grill. “is meats no?”
I shake my head, “Is meats, not many meats. Meats is for me, many meats for friends!” I wave my arms around. He is surprised for only a moment before chittering at his helper for a moment before the boy runs back to their restaurant.
The Navoli delegation was pleased at the lunch offering at the Brazilian grille and asked after fertile hunting grounds. I relayed that the grounds in Astorian wildes were in the teens to mid twenties, with plans to seed the wilds with aether foci. I also mention that Elysium has wilds forties and up and the Navoli were not interested at all. Too high for good eating they claimed.
I pull a haunch from my fanny pack and hand it to the grille master. He stares at it as though it is a gift from Andromeda herself. Granted, cooking this meat perfectly will likely get him multiple levels. He yells at the boy with excitement and stokes the fire hot, hot. Even puts some local enriched wood chips in the pit a determined grit in his teeth. In minutes the boy has a basin of smaller basins and puts it on one end of the stove, mixing and adding spices as the meat man stokes the fire and eyes the boy’s preparation, issuing sharp orders when a change is needed.
The meat man checks a dial religiously until a moment strikes and he slaps the haunch on the grill. He splashes the meat with a sauce and waits. He breaks out the bellows and heats up the coals. A chirp to the boy and he runs back to the shop for something. He takes another sauce bin with a mop brush and bastes the slab, letting the fire from the drippings lick at the bottom of the haunch.
The boy comes back with what has to be a bottle of shine. The meat man dashes some into the fire and a plume of flame surges around the meat, then he hands it back to the boy and points to three remaining bins of sauce. When he barks at the boy, he grabs the bottle, takes a swig for himself and ties his shirt around his forehead and growls at the sky.
A flurry of sauce and fire erupts from the grill before he flips the meat, then he feeds the hooch to the flame before he is a flurry of sauce and brushes again, somehow keeping his hands from burning in the prep. The soot from the flames creeps up the man’s arms until the metal of the grill groans in stress. He then takes a bucket of lake water and splashes the grill to steam. Leaving the meat to drip with moisture for five minutes, then rest for five more. He slaps the meat on the table and begins slicing even slices and placing them before each of us. The meat was purple to begin with, now it was a variety of colors, waiting my judgement.
It was the most succulent aether infused meat I have ever had. The flavor could use a tweak for my personal tastes, but regardless it was magnificent. Before I could tell them how I felt, a purple glow and sparkly swirl lit up the boy and the meat man and then they hugged and cried and shouted until they started thanking us profusely. Then hugging and crying some more.
“Meat man!” he looks at me, breaking his reverie. “One hundred kilos, this meat. I bring you when I dine?” He starts crying then hugging me, then shaking my hands as he agrees. Then he wipes his face and straightens his apron.
“Empress, would be honor. You bring exotic meats, I cook any time any where.” He bows, then picks up the boy, spins him around and then runs around like the proudest dad that ever was. The boy was giggling and yelling himself, enjoying the moment after the toil.
“You honor us in sharing this rare hunt, Empress. The Navoli would like to hunt seeded wilds of Astoria with your permission.”
“Honored Navoli, would you desire parties deployed from our cities, or to establish a camp of your own?”
We discuss the benefits of each and decide that the Navoli need to assess republic interest before a decision can be made.
“Did anyone else think that meal was insane?!” Camacho asks.
“Yes, it was amazing, but those two probably tiered up by cooking that haunch from a rare aether beast. Opportunity of a lifetime and I asked if he was interested in doing that another dozen times.”
“Oh. How did you get all that from that insanity?” Naomi asks.
“I can see aether, and to some extent, the influences of the Matrix. I watched the experience and proficiency develop around them. When I made a decision on the dish in total, they finally got their experience. They got a lot of it, like the kid mutated a little, the surge was so big.”
When they get back with drinks we certainly didn’t order, I give him a credit and nine hex for his hospitality. He gives me his personal contact info, and kindly accepts the payment I can see he’d rather not take. I bid him prosperity as we part and I gift the remainder of the meat, save a to-go kabob for me, to the Navoli delegation.
“It seems that we weren’t the only people that saw that madness. The furious cooking is all over the rising popularity feeds. Oh and get this, #Empressthings is blowing up right now too with videos from the opening address.”
“I needed a shot of good news today. What’s next on the schedule?” I keep an eye on the list of events she has while she talks.
“Uhm, there’s the inaugural Marathon, a highland games-style event series throughout the week. You had interest in the magic show tomorrow evening, and a cooking competition the Founders are scheduled to judge on the final day.”
“Mm. That can’t be all, but we’ll talk about more events tomorrow I suppose. If there’s not already a refreshment station in the Capitol concourse, put one in front of the steps of the Consul building. I would like to watch a few events of the highland games every day if we have the time. I always liked the weird things they do like bale toss and log rolling.”
“Oh, oh. Apparently, much of those events are taking place on Manor grounds. Your wife apparently signed an agreement over it, months ago.”
“Crap. That is going to be contentious with the rumors isn’t it?” She nods at me. “Are the games today on the land?”
“No, the organizers thought to combine crowds for the marathon and the games in the Capitol Commons section of the Parkway.”
“Thank Andromeda. That way I can redecorate before people have to confront the Manor.” I start indicating to Tessa that my plans were to move the Manor building to another plot on the other side of the river, about the same walking distance but in a different direction. That I also wanted to build something Imperial, but also Gardens of Babylon. Less than 300m tall, less than 100mil AE. Comparable or better spaces than the Manor, without a grotto. Definitively a water feature. I get a ping and a brief chuckle from Tessa, and decide to ignore it. She’s a mischievous sort, but has never done me wrong.
>P] Hon, I’m moving the Manor and building something else as a backdrop for the Highland Games. [<
>K] Makes sense, just don’t scrap it. [< I ping the affirmative.
“You handing Tessa money to do stuff for you again?” Camacho scoffs.
“Yeah, and I get that you hate it when I do stuff like that, but two things: Tessa can and does tell me she’s too busy, and that she also likes to dabble in design; and it’s time you get over whatever this is, or stop coming to work for me.”
I ignore the shock on her face and plow forward. “I’m fine with advising caution, or the way Naomi tells me that ‘it may not be the best decision’ but the antagonism that you show me when you disagree is too much. If you couldn’t tell that I get enough of that already. So please, find another way to express yourself, or find another job.” I blow out a breath forcefully, then turn to Naomi.
“Uh, yeah, we can head back to your office for an hour or so before the games are scheduled, and then some city planners wanted to have dinner to discuss the direction they want to take Aelea.”
“Yeah, no urban development department yet. Okay, sounds good. Tell them to pick a restaurant that’s willing to serve us outside.” She chuckles and nods.
While Naomi wiggles her fingers at her screens, I pay the tax to relocate my bike to my current location and then power it on. Naomi is distracted and barely registers that she’s putting on a helmet. I grin as I see Camacho strapping on her skates. Looks like she decided to stay for at least the rest of her watch. We scoot around the lake at a slow pace, but it’s nice to see all of the people about, even if a lot of them are in the bike lane. When we get to the Parkway I open the throttle and hear above average amounts of swearing from Camacho behind us.
“Look, Empress, that was ass. Think we can line item some hover skates or something?” She says through gasps and spits, probably bug bits.
“Do you think hover skates or Security Scoots would be better?”
“Scoots, I mean bikes.” I nod and tap some screens, order three more with the custom paint and a serial numbers of Imperial Knight Bike 01, 02, 03. “They’re chipped and shielded. You guys aren’t Knights yet, but it’s a solid idea for working in the city, so I’ll pass them on after this week is over.”
“Alright then. I’ll have one of my team-mates come and collect the other two.”
“I leave them in your care, acting Captain.”