The man’s hand clutched the cylindrical steel railing tightly as his body swayed ever so slightly inside the large, sliding metal tube. Similar to the cars that traversed the roads of Xanadu City above it was this vehicle, albeit it ran over two pencil-thin rails locking it onto a mandatory path.
Why did the Lieutenant General send me to the Capital and into the Metro? This seems like too much effort for such a trivial task. Antelius wondered. He was also ordered not to wear his uniform, so he instead wore civilian clothing including a cloak that covered most of his head. His shoes looked more dapper than the heavy-duty boots he was used to wearing, and his pants had a flowy design that was quite popular among the youth of Titan.
“Arriving at Krabnori Station,” a robotic, monotone voice made known through the speakers on the Metro’s six vehicle units. “Krabnori Station.”
As the Metro slowly rolled up to the platform, Maedoc tried not to look eager to exit as he made his way out alongside a dozen others. This was one of the stations with less traffic, being in the outer areas of Xanadu City. It was in fact only a stop away from being outside the city proper, and it had left Lartnec Terminal—the primary on-ground transport hub of the Capital where all eight lines of the Xanadu Metro intersected—25 stations ago, which itself was two before Maedoc had boarded. Acting General Salomon had taken many measures to ensure the transaction he had sent Maedoc to complete was as low-profile as possible.
Lieutenant Colonel Antelius made his way into a mini-Light Pillar Dock, a modified version of the militaristic device for civilian use through buildings, taking him up to the surface where he found himself in the middle of an unimpressive Titanian neighborhood. These were typically two rings of high-rise buildings surrounding the grounds of the train station that all neighborhoods had, which were in turn surrounded by bands of houses each two or three storeys tall, which were anywhere between three to seven rings in thickness. Maedoc was hit by a sudden wave of nostalgia. He had grown up in an apartment in a neighbourhood quite similar to the one he awaited his contact in. It had been over a year since he had last been home, ever since he was granted higher privileges by his former immediate superior Colonel Kirchner, and eventually moved up to adjutant to the General herself.
“On time as expected, Lieutenant Colonel.” a voice spoke behind his back, one that he recognised. It belonged to Major General Goban Sjogren, one of the few people on the Central Council that Salomon had fully trusted.
The man was standing so that both soldiers’ backs faced one another, so he could not see his face. Maedoc’s glance was on the ground before him as he saw a hand moving beside him, holding an envelope.
A handwritten envelope? This must be extremely important, Maedoc thought as the Major General left his presence as quickly as he’d come. With the object of significance in his hand, he returned to Krabnori Station, this time taking a flight of stairs to the same platform he had arrived from.
He then waited for another Metro which came seconds after he stepped onto the platform. Ten stops later, he found himself at the last station of the line. This station was not below a neighborhood, but was under an immense parking lot, a huge block of land topped off with black magnetic pavement. The only building on the site was a small, unattended ticket vending booth with separate bathroom entrances. A light liquid methane rain drizzled down on the lot through a perpetual semi-haze that covered virtually the entire moon, each drop bouncing ever so slightly on the seamless material.
Before him was a purple and white two-toned car that was put aside for him. Climbing into the driver’s seat, Maedoc pulled onto the half-congested motorway adjacent to the lot, taking on a four-and-a-half league journey which he completed within a matter of fifteen minutes, traversing through swaths of grey, gloomy Titanian rocky surface.
Salomon told me to stop at the gates surrounded by the solid gray wall, he mused, remembering the details he’d been told to look out for. And that he did as the structure entered his field of vision, prompting him to exit the motorway and pull up to it.
At the left-hand pillar supporting the gate an intercom screen awaited the Lieutenant Colonel’s touch.
“Name and business?” the guardsman inside the house behind the walls asked through the speaker.
“Lieutenant Colonel Maedoc Antelius, here to deliver a message of importance to the Duke Silvan Karesti.”
Maedoc could hear the guard step away from the intercom, and through the speaker he could hear agitated whispers, done so obviously to keep the words from being heard clearly by him. A moment later, his response was given wordlessly as the gates receded, allowing his vehicle entry onto the grand estate.
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The mansion was large enough that it could almost be considered a palace, and indeed at one point it had been. But some point after its original owner’s demise, his son and wife had decided to downsize it somewhat.
Parking the car just in front of the gate, he walked up the front door and rang the bell. He could hear rapid footsteps running for the door, where he remained calmly waiting for it to be opened. A well-built guard, although quite old for his profession, answered it.
“Good afternoon, brother,” the guard greeted warmly, but it was evident that he did not permit the Lieutenant Colonel entry into the house. “My apologies, the Princess would like you to repeat your reason for arrival here.”
Behind the guard, features obscured by shadows of the intentionally dim-lit home, stood Silvan Karesti’s mother, Ortrun Karesti. The Prince himself was still in his chambers, putting on a comfortable coat as it was his intention to not dwell within the house for too long.
“Your Grace, I’ve been sent here on behalf of the Acting General to deliver an important message to His Grace Silvan.”
The guard looked back at the woman and Maedoc could see her head nod up and down.
“I will take the message and have it given to Master Silvan promptly.”
Maedoc passed the envelope to the guard, but before he could begin to take his leave, Silvan bounded towards the front door, nearly shoving both his mother and their guard on his way.
“Could I please have a moment of your time, Lieutenant Colonel?” Silvan asked, nearly out of breath. Despite his Titanian physiology, he was not immune to getting tired. It didn’t help that he had also been a sickly child growing up, the treatment for which was delayed due to the apathetic and uncaring nature of his late uncle Henrik. Even then he had managed to retain the rank of Private, which was practically symbolic as he had not had classes at Heimat Academy in over half a decade.
“I… suppose not.” Maedoc shrugged confusedly, unsure why a member of the Royal Family wanted to speak with him despite his commoner status.
“Silvan, where do you think you’re going?” his mother asked, taken aback by his desire to exit the home.
“I’d… just like to take a walk around. I’ve been inside for days. Please, I won’t leave the gates.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, staring daggers into a soldier whom she had never before met. Her seasoned guard however noticed this, and turned to face her before the quickly escalating tension could erupt any further.
“Mistress Ortrun, I will keep an eye on him from inside. You don’t need to worry.”
She slowly unclenched her fists and relaxed her shoulders.
“Thank you, Meurig.” she sighed, before disappearing behind a corner.
“Follow me, Lieutenant Colonel. Meurig, I promise I won’t leave.”
“I trust you, Master.” the guard nodded, closing the door but keeping his eyes on the outside through the window on it.
The lawn of the house was made of one of the few native plants on Titan that could grow on the harsh surface of Titan, an incredibly hardy blue-green moss called Eiclivia. It grew to a maximum of three inches yet could withstand the weight of a Titanian’s body for long periods and remain intact. To have so much of the fairly uncommon species as material on a yard meant that only a very wealthy person could’ve procured it. There, the two young men sat at the Prince’s invitation.
“You wished to speak to me, Prince Silvan?”
“You can call me Silvan in private, Lieutenant Colonel. You are older than me, after all. Yes, I had a question for you.”
“Of course.” Maedoc nodded.
“Before I open the envelope, do you have any idea as to what it could be about?”
“I… wouldn’t know, Silvan. The Lieutenant General only sent me out on a delivery assignment. I’m sorry, but he didn’t tell me anything regarding its contents.”
“I see. Well, that’s alright. You saw my Mother’s reaction to your arriving here, so I wished to direct her attention away from you.”
“I hope I didn’t offend Her Grace.” Maedoc looked at the ground in front of his feet.
“Please don’t take that too personally. She doesn’t have an issue with you in particular. Her problem is with the military, and I guess you being one of them set her off.”
“I see. Erm… have you visited General Karesti yet?” Maedoc asked as an image of his superior flashed in his mind as he glanced at the Prince. The genetics of their family were strong, and he could certainly make out similarities between the two cousins. “Her condition… it’s quite dire.”
“I have, it is a shame what happened to her. But she was facing off against the Red Devil himself. No one could’ve fared better than her.”
“I agree. I would’ve helped her had she not ordered everyone else to stay back. She put up a truly good fight.”
“She must’ve. Rhona’s stubbornness and tenacity… I’ve been told that she inherited those the most from Uncle Henrik out of all the siblings,” Silvan noted. He was too young to remember his uncle who had dictated so much of his life. “Anyways, I’m sure the Lieutenant General is expecting you back soon. I’ll walk you back to your car.”
“Thank you so much, Silvan,” said Maedoc as he returned to his vehicle. “Please give Her Grace my apologies.”
After exchanging salutes, Maedoc left the estate through the opened gates and Silvan returned to his home. Meurig directed the young royal to a parlor room where Ortrun waited for him. He had expected her to lash out for his sudden choice to entertain their visitor from the military. But instead, he saw her seated on an armchair adjacent to an empty loveseat. She held the envelope in her hands, still unopened. He noticed they were trembling.
“Silvan, please open the letter.”