Serra sat in the coach, Lisril across from her, groaning and grimacing with every innumerable bump and jolt. Alex sat close next to her, his presence increasing her physical pain but providing spiritual succor.
Rosslln filled out that bench, providing him warmth and comfort, comfort he clearly needed.
He clutched Lisril’s hand in a white-knuckled grip, even as he chatted and smiled and commented upon the debates and methods of Esteles. He was worried, even if only for his wife’s pain.
It was an oddly stoic display coming from a man, and she didn’t know if she should celebrate his moral conviction or chide him for attempting to hide his distress.
“Serra,” he said, at last, drawing her from her reverie.
“Yes?”
“It’s just,” he said. “We’ve talked about math and philosophy, cosmology, and religion, but I never did get around to asking you more about yourself. I didn’t even know you were a surgeon.”
Serra chuckled. “I’m no less guilty than you; it seems we both failed to recall the person beneath the intellect.”
“Like a damn Frenchman,” he sighed.
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s not important. Would you tell me more about growing up as a noblewoman? Lisril says she doesn’t count.”
“Growing up?” Serra scratched her head. “Well, I suppose, it’s really rather dull, though. I am my mother’s fifth daughter.”
Alex nodded. “Lisril mentioned that.”
“Yes.” Serra glanced at her friend. “I thought she might have, and I imagine she also mentioned that this means I am unlikely to inherit.”
She paused, mulling how much detail would be too much and would bore him. “My mother,” she said at last. “Is a martially inclined woman. So far as she was concerned, there was really only one proper career path for a young lady.”
“Truthfully, though, I have no talent for fighting. It was beaten into me. But I have no aptitude.”
She shook her head. “But you don’t want to hear about that. When I was still young, Lisril happened through my mother’s land as part of a manhunt. I ended up following her, and the rest, they say, is history.”
“After I left the military, I joined the convent and became a Surgeon.”
He nodded but frowned. “So,” he asked. “Why a librarian, then?”
She pursed her lips. “Archivist, not librarian.” Then, she cleared her throat. “As it happens, in this age, with the broad cessation of war, there is little enough demand for surgeons and rather too many to fill the need.”
“I see,” he said. “But you’re sharp and, more important, connected, so you found employment in the Archives.”
She nodded. “I like to think it had more to do with my merit than my relations, but yes, it’s as you say. Now, I’ve told you the course of my life; what of yours?”
“I guess I can’t say no.” He chewed on his lip. “Well, why the fuck not? I was precocious little shit, always getting into trouble.” He waved her away. “Don’t ask what for; it doesn’t matter. Anyway, I never knew my father, and I was brilliant and bored, and I just got wilder and wilder until I was nineteen, and in front of a judge and given a choice, state pen or Bootcamp. Now, I’m not an idiot, so I chose Bootcamp.”
“I had heard that you Dyrantoro send men to fight,” Serra said. “But I had hardly expected to meet a male soldier, leave alone marry one.”
He chuckled. “You’ll have to forgive me for being so unlordly.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, and go on,” she said.
He nodded. “The military was good for me, the discipline, having something to strive for, some male role models; I was good at it, too, though.” He shrugged. “Not to toot my own horn, but I tend to pick up on things pretty quick, so it never really occurred to me to think anything of it.”
He scratched behind his ear. “Then, my drill sergeant pulls me aside and asks me, ‘what’s your MOS? What are you going in for?’ or similar. I have no recollection of what I said to him; I hadn’t given it any thought, so probably something stupid, tuba player, or something like that. Whatever dumb thing I said, the Sargent says to me, ‘no, you’re not,’ and pushes some papers into my hand and tells me I’m going in for special forces.”
He stopped then, fretting over Lisril as they passed over a particularly nasty bump; she waved him away. “I’m enjoying this story,” she said. “If I’d known you’d be this agreeable, I’d have pressed you long ago.”
He grinned. “Alright, alright, well, he couldn’t choose my MOS, obviously, but, hell, it seemed like a good idea to me. I had the aptitude scores they liked, and my mother’s from Brazil, so I spoke English and Portuguese, bilingual, which I knew they wanted.”
He kissed Lisril’s cheek, smoothing her hair a bit. “I made it through cadre, served a couple of deployments, and got it into my head that I might like to be an officer, only I didn’t have the education. But the military will send you if they think you have a chance; I get my bachelor’s in mechanical engineering, get my commission, and serve for-” He waved his hand. “A while more. Get hurt, ask Kitten, get discharged, go for a Ph.D. program in physics, work in that for a bit, and that gets me picked up by DARPA, which gets me involved in the FTL project, which brings me more or less here.”
“You said you never knew your father,” Rosslln, who had thus far spent the ride in silence, said. “How come?”
“Oh,” Alex sighed. “Well, I wasn’t there, but my mother says he got caught up in some political bother, and about six months before I was born, he ended up getting shot, and he didn’t make it.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Oh.” Rosslln shrank a bit in her seat. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
Alex took her hand. “It’s okay, it was a long time ago, and hey, I’ve got you now, right?”
The young Lady smiled, revealing a chipped canine on her left. “I guess you do.”
Presently, the coach stopped, and Serra helped her friend down, followed by Alex and Rosslln.
It was late, or perhaps early, by human standards, after dawn, and already Serra could spot street sweeps at work in the morning twilight. Here, the city’s architecture, the squat workshops, and trade houses of the artisan class were augmented by scaffolds of Dyrantoro make. Cables ran between them, hanging overhead, linking them at their peak where they were capped with a device that filled its surroundings with a dazzling light that washed out the morning sun and lit the streets like midday.
She saw Alex looking, too, a deep frown creasing his brow, and wondered what could be wrong. Before she could ask, however, they were met on the street by a young man in Earth military dress.
He trotted up to them, looking at Lisril. “Here you are again; sorry it’s not under better circumstances,” he said and turned to Serra. “You’re the Nyxian doctor?”
She nodded. “I would like to observe the procedure.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “Let’s get her out of the cold.” He turned to Alex then. “You can wait inside, Sir; it shouldn’t take long.”
They followed the young man in, and she and Lisril were taken into a side room; the young soldier helped Lisril onto an exam table and offered Serra a chair. “A nurse will be with you soon; I should get back to my duties.”
With a nod, they were alone.
“Serra,” Lisril said. “I don’t doubt Alex’s claims, but while I’m convalescing….”
“Yes,” Serra said. “That young lady isn’t equal to the task, no matter how willing.”
“I know it puts you in an awkward position.”
Serra sighed. “I knew marriage would challenge my vows; I suppose it’s better sooner than later.”
“Sorry,” Lisril said.
“Don’t,” Serra said. “You did your duty and saved his life; now I must do mine, as the lady bids. I shall resign my position within the order; that’s all there is for it.”
“It will only be a few days,” Lisril said.
“A few too many. I’ve drafted my resignation and shall be moving into your quarters tonight if I’ve leave.”
Lisril nodded. “I’m going to need a bigger bed.”
The door opened and admitted a Dyrantoro man and woman; the man looked at a bundle of papers. “It says here you believe you have a broken rib?”
“Ribs,” Lisril said. “I was struck with considerable force.”
The man nodded and motioned to his partner. “Well, let’s have a look then.”
The woman performed much the same examination Serra had the night before, adding the observation of Lisril’s breathing, and reported much as Serra had.
The man nodded. “We’ll do an x-ray then, and why don’t we have a wheelchair for this woman? Go get one for her.”
The woman nodded, and soon Lisril was being wheeled to another room, this one dimly lit and filled with a mess of machinery. “What’s the function of all this?” Serra asked.
The man glanced at her, at the machine, and shrugged. “In simple terms, it takes images of bones.”
Serra blinked. “How will you expose the bone?”
“The flesh is largely transparent to x-ray,” he said, pointing. “Stand behind this shield; we’ll get her ready.”
She observed the process with some fascination as Lisril was laid down and a technician moved the machine this way and that, and then she was shown the images.
The doctor placed them before a lightbox and pointed out the trauma, two broken and one fractured rib. It seemed impossible, but she couldn’t deny what she was seeing.
They returned to the exam room, and the doctor repeated his determination, then produced a strange cylindrical device, capped with a long, sharply pointed tip and filled with an odd white, viscous solution. This, he explained, was a suspension of calcium inoculated multitudes of tiny and, she gathered, artificial organisms which would, as the broken bones were not terribly misaligned, bond with the bone, pull them back into alignment, and ossify, leaving behind the unblemished bone. Thus, healing her faster and better than natural processes could.
Three injections, one atop each point of trauma, and then they were released, returned to Alex.
He embraced Lisril, hemming and hawing, and was waved away for his trouble.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little bit of pain. Now, I want you back in the palace under guard; I shouldn’t have let you come with me in the first palace.”
And that was that they returned to the palace by the same conveyance as they had left it. That would have been the end of her day, except that her mother awaited them in the palace foyer.
“Mama?” She ran up to the older woman. “What are you doing here?”
“Lisril wrote me before coming home,” her mother said. “And told me she was bringing your husband; I would be a poor mother if I didn’t make an appearance to meet him.”
“Is papa here?”
Her mother nodded. “Yes, reclining with his other wives, we can introduce your husband to him; later, I wanted to see him privately first.”
Alex joined them then, Lisril and Rosslln at his side. “You’re seeing me, but I’m not sure how private the venue is.” He glanced at Lisril. “My wife needs rest, too, so let’s find somewhere to sit down.”
Her mother nodded. “I’ve a place set aside; come along.”
They followed her to a nearby room furnished with a small table and a few chairs. A little bare but ideally suited to her mother’s tastes.
Her mother offered Alex a bow. “I’m sorry the circumstances of our meeting are so poor.” She said and turned back to Serra. “The news is already all over the city and will spread to the countryside within a fortnight.”
They sat, her mother resting her chin on her hands. “Parliament is in an uproar. Some of the more brazen are claiming this attack is proof the Empress is weak, and I’m reliably informed that there’s speculation among the citizenry of a forthcoming declaration of martial law.”
Her mother looked around at them. “I understand you were with her at the time. Has she mentioned anything?”
Serra shook her head. “No, but it seems a likely outcome. What of the inquisition?”
Her mother smirked. “As I understand it, a friend of yours has already been called to the palace.”
“No,” Serra groaned. “You can’t mean….”
“The very same.” Her mother nodded. “It should hardly come as a shock.”
“I supposed not,” she said. She shook her head. “Well, let’s not allow it to spoil your visit. Nor me, to monopolize your time.” She gestured to Alex. “This is Alex, my fiancé; Alex, lady Taaraiin Faragal, my mother.”
“Good to be formally introduced,” her mother said.
Alex nodded. “Nice to meet you; Lisril told me you’re a general?”
Her mother nodded. “I am charged with command of a modest garrison force.”
“Is it alright for you to be here?”
“The Empire isn’t so frail that it will fall apart if I take a few days away from my post,” she laughed. “I left competent lieutenants in command; it will be fine. Lisril expressed that you’re a soldier yourself.”
He nodded. “I’m not serving actively anymore, though.”
“You’re married now,” her mother said. “No matter how things are arranged on Earth, it only makes sense that a man would retire from such work once disposed of a proper wife.”
That wasn’t how things had gone, as Serra had only that day learned, but he smiled and nodded, and she took that as a cue that she shouldn’t disrupt her mother’s assumptions. “Yes.” He cast an adoring look to Lisirl. “No reason whatsoever to make my wife’s heart ache like that.”
“Have you given consideration?” Lisril asked. “To the rest of my letter?”
Her mother frowned. “Your claims are hard to believe, but I’ve always known you to be reliable, and you echo our new ally’s boasts.”
“Perhaps.” Lisril glanced at Alex. “My husband could provide a demonstration?”
“Perhaps he could.” Her mother nodded slowly. “I’ll ask her Magnificence.”
“I think that will be a good idea,” Lisril agreed.
There was a knock on the door, and a moment later, it opened to reveal one of the Empress’ handmaids. The woman bowed. “Pardon my intrusion,” she said. “Her Magnificence would be pleased to be attended by his lordship and his wives.”
Her mother stood. “It seems I shall have to release you, Serra, come and visit your father and me in our quarters; we will be pleased to host your husband but, given the circumstances, won’t object if he finds the need to commit to his rest.”
Her mother bowed and left them.
The handmaid looked at them expectantly, and Alex stood. “We shouldn’t keep her Magnificence waiting.”