The workday in the Kingdom was long, but it did end. The various citizens and races left their workstations, their counters, their shops and other places of employment. To their various places they went, some to homes and families; some to places of high or low entertainment; others to places of eating and drinking. Slaves escaped whatever drudgery the majority of them were driven at, to obtain what nourishment their owners provided them.
Ramus Nikul and Lanus Derkel both had families that they went home to. Nikul to a somewhat spacious apartment in a high tower while Derkel had a more cramped apartment in a settlement near the entrance to the tunnels that lead to the underground offices.
Both were pleased to have their accommodation, such as it was, subsidised by the government. They knew that others were not so lucky, and had to pay more, in some cases, a lot more.
*********
Even deeper in the city, a man who laboured in the lower levels of the office complex as a clerk checking the work of others before filing it, arrived at his modest dwelling. This man, known as Ressi Dapp was unmarried, had no mistress or slaves, as while he had, in the past, enjoyed both, circumstances dictated that he be unencumbered at this time. This was something he was used to, indeed he had been on his own many times in the past. The solitude did not bother him.
Ressi Dapp had left his desk the same time as others did; a time that would correspond to the eighteenth period in the Empire. It was a long walk to the check point in the tunnels where everyone was scanned to prevent the carrying of unauthorised material. Invariably someone was taken aside, either a smuggler or in a spot check. They would be pushed to the side, protesting volubly or mute in their terror. Everyone else would pass, eyes averted.
Leaving the tunnels, Dapp walked to where he could board transport into the city of Kanissi, the Capital of Destron, and thus, by default, the Capital of The Kingdom. However, for some forgotten reason Kanissi was never referred to in common usage, just Destron. Having secured transport, Ressi Dapp relaxed and listened to people chatting idly, but carefully. Arriving at his stop, Dapp left the transport and walked to his favorite place to eat. A tall and well-built man, he yet contrived to reduce himself to a measure of insignificance; a not uncommon survival tactic in a brutal society.
The eating place Dapp had chosen several years before was small, almost a hole in the wall, a small business for a family. The food was simple, but nourishing and adequate. Having eaten, and consumed a bottle of cheap beer, he left for his quarters, a block away.
Again keeping himself as inconspicuous as possible, he walked past the police who were stationed on every corner, even with showing his identity papers when asked he soon reached the low rise apartment building that housed his small apartment. The apartment had just three rooms, a combined kitchen, lounge and eating area; a bathroom and a bedroom. Opening his door, he gave a sigh, put away the coat and hat that he habitually wore, then sat in his comfortable chair, one of his few personal, expensive indulgences.
Rousing himself, he walked to his cooler, and pulled out another beer. Returning to his seat, he wondered aloud to the empty space, “What will I watch tonight?”
With a flick of his comm, he switched on the Holo projector. Bringing up the guide, he selected a program that showed a lot of sex, a show characteristic of one of the more popular channels available. Programing the holo so that he could watch it in the bedroom, he secured the apartment door, went to the bedroom, stripped naked and laid on his bed.
Remembering the rumours that the Kingdoms secret police were supposed to be able to spy on its citizens through the holo system, he thought, Well, they will have something to watch tonight, and laid back to enjoy himself.
*********
Ramus Nikul had taken a similar path, the major difference was his stop was right outside the apartment and he didn’t have to worry about the police. His apartment was rather more spacious and it needed to be, with his second wife, his first wife had died, who was considerably younger than him and two sons. One was not quite a teenager, and so was considered a youth. He was taking the mandatory programs of science, math and history, that last compulsory for every student. Alternative courses at this level included language, writing, civic and personal care – meaning how to take care of yourself and your community – and physical education.
The older son had a similar course load and an additional course to set him up for the Kingdom Cadets, a para-military program that every student had to enrol in, including girls. However that was two years away.
Tonight, the family ate at home. The meal consisted of soup, followed by a small amount of meat with some vegetables. Meat was expensive, even for this family although they were connected however tenuously with the palace and were paid somewhat better than most. Finishing up the meal was desert, consisting of fruit covered in a sweet sauce, a family favorite.
After the expected arguments, the two boys cleared away all the dishes and cleared the table. Household chores done, sitting around the table, the family of four talked before turning on the holo. This was a long settled family rule, we talk before we play.
The conversation started with “What did you do at work today, dad?” This was met with the usual evasions. While Nikul might drop a crumb or two, in the matter of the Princesses nuptials he did not dare to pre-empt The Khan. Others might whisper, but he was not going to give the police any excuse to arrest him.
A few fractions later, they were all happily watching a family favorite, a drama about a rag-tag group of space pirates being chased by a brave and undaunted police officer.
*********
As it was a nice day, Lanus Derkel decided to walk to the apartment he shared with his family. The sun was low in the sky, and there were no rain clouds to spoil this late spring day and Derkel always enjoyed the walk, it helped him to relax after the stresses of the day. This close to the palace also meant that the police didn’t patrol the area, military stop points took care of that. As he was well known to the soldiers, all Royal Guardsmen, he had little difficulty in getting through.
Entering the apartment building, he nodded to the elderly man sitting near the front door. A retired palace worker, the man sat there every day, just watching the pedestrians and traffic. The two had never spoken. There were only stairs in this building as it had two floors, so up Derkel went without pause.
Entering the apartment, he was greeted by his wife and children. With two young children, their apartment was quite crowded. The rest of their evening was a carbon copy of Nikuls, with tiny variations. One being that Derkels wife knew better than to question him about anything to do with the palace, and his children were too young to care. They watched a show with the children who were then put to bed. The two of them in turn watched another show, more to their liking, then retired themselves.
*********
All afternoon Princess Jirril acted in her usual manner, which was as a pampered, spoilt princess. The brunt of this fell on Hono who was constantly gathering clothes from the princesses’ extensive wardrobe for Jirril to try on.
“Not that one, the blue one with sparkles, I want to make an entrance, not be a spectacle! It must be perfect!” The princess threw another dress to the side. Holding the blue dress up so that she could see it in the holo viewer that showed her wearing it, she nodded. “This one will do, for now anyway.” Jirril decided. Her mother nodded, amused, as she watched the circus unfolding before her.
Hono nodded and carefully took the filmy and delicate dress to put away. Two other handmaidens were collecting the discarded dresses.
“Make sure that the dresses are all properly hung up, I don’t want a repeat of what happened last time.” The princess began to disrobe for her evening bath. The two handmaidens replied with yes princess and continued carefully gathering the dresses up. Hono having hung up the blue dress in its display case, ready for tomorrow, began helping her mistress to disrobe. Another attendant was waiting in the princess’s bathroom to help her wash.
“I really mean it, those dresses better be perfect or someone will be whipped and I am in the mood for handing one out!” Jirril was still rankled over the way the engagement had been handled, including the manner in which her father had spoken to her. She stood still arms folded as Hono pinned up her hair.
The handmaidens nodded submissively and replaced the dresses with special care. The bathroom attendant noted the princess’s mood and checked the water carefully to make certain it was at the correct temperature.
Decca smiled to herself. “Come now, I know why you are so upset, it’s your father. He always was a bit of a tyrant.” She laughed at the joke.
Jirril didn’t, now naked, she walked into the bathroom followed by both Hono and her mother. “He didn’t have to be so mean, I think that Harb ra Dicatoor is quite acceptable as a mate. It’s just that father could have asked me, not just told me!” Jirril pouted as she lowered herself into the tub, while the attendant poured water over her back and shoulders.
“Don’t worry about your father,” Decca replied, “put him out of your mind. You have bigger things to concern yourself with.”
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“I know mother, I have to get married!”
“Of course dear. That is all you need to concern yourself with for now, so finish your bath, and then we will eat. After supper, you and I will put together some names of dressmakers for the guard to check out.” Decca stood.
“I have some names already. Hono, record them.” The slave/companion hurried forward with Jirril’s comm. Decca frowned when Hono activated it.
“Your slave can operate your comm?” The softly spoken words froze all activity in the room.
“So mother? What is the problem with that?” Jirril turned her head. Decca was staring at Hono with hard eyes.
“There are many possible problems.” The statement was spoken softly but the menace in the words was palpable. Decca stepped to Hono, the slave knelt, trembling, the comm unit shaking in her hand. Decca twisted her hand in Honor's hair and pulled slightly. The two handmaidens in the bedroom had fallen to their knees with heads bowed. The bathroom attendant had also gone trembling to her knees.
“Mother, what are you doing?” Jirril rose to her feet, soapy water dripping of her youthful body.
“Just talking to your companion.” Decca gave the hair twisted in her fingers another tug. “Who have you been talking to?” She hissed at Hono.
“No one, Mother.” The young slave whimpered.
“Mother!” The Princess calmly spoke to Decca. “Hono only uses the comm unit when I tell her. I had experts install a computer program that monitors everything she does and she has to sign in with her own code which I know. Hono is monitored and all transmissions are also recorded. Even yours. This you know.”
Decca looked sharply at her daughter at the calmly spoken words. Jirril had surprised her with such a calm manner, so untypical of her.
Wrapping herself in a warm towel the bathroom attendant had hurriedly draped around her, Jirril walked over and took her comm unit from the young slaves shaking hands. With a smile that was obviously false, she spoke to her mother again. “Now, please, let my slave go.”
Slowly, Decca released her grip on Hono’s hair, letting it slide through her fingers. “Very well,” she said, “get dressed and we will have a nice family supper together. It will be in the informal room.” With a hard stare that extended to the handmaidens as well as including the bathroom attendant, the Mother left.
Jirril never looked at Hono, just indicated with a flick of a finger that she was to follow her.
In silence, Hono walked behind her mistress, the terror still vibrating in her. Intelligent, slim and with the curly hair characteristic of her clan, she was from a subject world that was owned by The Khan. When young, she had come to the attention of a governor who was a minor member of Clan Dis Cooser. This person had eventually fallen from grace but Hono, a gift to the Princess since age six, had stayed on at the palace and remembered no other life. As personal slave to the princess, who was just a year older than her, her life had been melded by the moods and swings of palace life. At times ignored, at others stoically suffering beatings and sometimes avoiding them. Tied to Princess Jirril by the bond of slavery, she had learned to navigate the many moods of the court and had so far survived. Everyone she knew, other slaves included, lived in or around the palace. She knew no one outside.
In the bedroom, Jirril went and sat on the chair in front of the holo mirror projector, dropping her towel on the floor and accepting a soft housecoat as she did so. The bathroom attendant quickly picked the towel up.
At the “Brush my hair,” command from the Princess, two handmaidens swiftly picked up hairbrushes and focused their attentions on her long brown hair.
After the brushing had continued for a fraction, Jirril addressed her slave. “My mother seems suspicious of you, Hono. I wonder why.” A wave of her hand brought Hono over to her. As a finger pointed to the floor, Hono dropped to her knees.
“My mother does not trust you,” Jirril mused out loud.
“I know, mistress,” whispered the slave.
The princess’s laugh startled all the servants in the room. “Yes, she was quite clear, wasn’t she?” The laugh sounded again, “I am surprised that she let it go as easy as she did!”
Jirril sobered. “I will talk to her again. You cannot have done anything on my comm, but I hope that you haven’t used any other comm. If mother turns the interrogators loose on you …” The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Hono did not speak at once, just stared with her eyes wide. “Mistress, I swear that I haven’t done or said anything I shouldn’t. And I never used your comm except when you told me to,” the slave pleaded.
With a shrug, Jirril discarded the housecoat and rose. “Then you have nothing to worry about.” There was some malicious amusement in the manner in which the Princess spoke. She looked at her reflection in the holo mirror projector, “Now help me get dressed.” The handmaidens picked up the lingerie that had been selected and assisted the princess sliding into it. This was followed by the gown that was to be worn to supper. Elegant of course, Princess Jirril had no conception of comfortable clothes.
*********
‘Phil’ was not happy. While he had inserted the idea for the Kingdom to send a scout ship to the far galaxy, he had not expected the response that the incursion had drawn. It had surprised him as he had never been one for looking beyond his own interests or ideas to any great extent and he now realised that his original scan of the galaxy in which he was interested had been grossly inadequate.
Considering his options, he had decided to look further into the possible dangers the galaxy represented. To his shock, he found that all his efforts were fruitless. This had shaken him to such an extent that he stopped monitoring the controls he had placed on various important members of the kingdom. He reconsidered his options and decided that he had to get some distance.
Living in the capital city had its advantages but also its distractions. Closing up the apartment he had appropriated, he secured it so that no one in the city would enter it. As he did not actually ‘work’, just used his powers as needed, there was nothing that he needed to do there.
Leaving Kanissi he travelled to a remote and carefully protected dwelling he had established. Those who built it never remembered what they did and of course were long dead. While it looked innocuous, anyone who wanted to check it out or visit it, would find that they had other, more important matters that they had to attend to. In any case there were no near neighbours or visitors, indeed no way for anyone else to get near the dwelling except by air. Nobody lived with him or was ever invited to the dwelling which Phil had named The Chalet.
Laying on his bed, he let his mind roam. First he checked his controls he had placed on the peoples he had deemed of interest to him in the kingdom. Finding nothing to alarm him, he let his senses flow further afield. Abruptly, he sat up. Now he had been blocked from looking beyond the kingdom.
With a thoughtful expression Phil went to get a drink, choosing a potent local brew. Opening the bottle, he poured a quantity into a small cup. Cradling it, he walked to a window, then stepped out onto a balcony and stood at the railing. If anyone had been present they would have seen a tall, powerfully built man, that being the type of body he was using at this time, he could of course change what he looked like whenever he wanted to. Gazing out over the wild countryside he considered the implications of the blocking. It had to have been done by someone of great power, possibly someone more powerful than himself. But he had never met anyone even remotely as powerful as himself, at least, not for many hundreds of thousands of years. Or was that millions of years, he thought aloud.
Since his departure, he had had no contact with any of them. Only one had come with him, but after many millennium had passed, she had taken the decision to go beyond, to leave this existence for whatever the next brought. That was long ago and his mind skittered away from that old wound. It had taken a long time for the pain of her parting to ease, and his mind turn to other things. Surely they had passed on, he nearly had himself.
The anger had eased over the years, but had not completely dissipated. He, the other He, had long ago challenged Phil and won. At least that is how he remembered the collision. After the strange happening that had given godlike powers to a small number of their world’s population, there had been disagreements. The most serious one over the better approach, direct rule or a gentler, subtle approach. All to soon, this had broken out into a direct confrontation between Phil and Him. He had been stronger, more ruthless and this had taken Phil by surprise. There was even some admiration in the thought that He had hidden his powers so effectively. And Phil had left under the express condition to never return. At least that was the agreement. He knew the reality.
It was a long time after her passing that he started looking at various galaxies inhabitants with the thought that he could amuse himself with them, finally coming across one with a population that seemed suitable. He quickly found taking an active role unsatisfying. To rule as a god had the unpleasant side effect of having your worshipers turn on you if you didn’t do things quite right. Also being a god to a large population was exhausting, and one had to watch for worshipers who had decided to worship someone or something else, then take the appropriate action. After just a few hundred years, Phil gave up on that approach. He decided on the current method. He would operate in the shadows and control the people through his unknowing surrogates. That also had the side pleasure of setting a course and watching how the seeds planted turned out. As the people grew and matured, he manipulated the leader’s minds in many different ways to suit his desire or fad of the moment. The idea that he could lead or allow the people to go their own way, with or without guidance, had never occurred to Phil.
He sipped his drink and wondered what to do next. Deciding to leave and take refuge on another planet, gave Phil another surprise when the attempt was made. He discovered that he could not leave Destron. Was it Them, Him? Or could it be someone else? The touch, the taste was different yet familiar. Too familiar.
“So,” he whispered, feeling now certain of his opponent, his eyes raised to the stars, “So it is game on,” he repeated, Phil turned his mind to the Khans palace. He would ensure that a blood bath would result at least. A third shock, he could no longer touch any mind in the Kingdom, Going back into the Chalet, he considered what his next course of action would be as he walked to the rear of the building.
Looking out over the equally wild country that was displayed from the rear deck, he numbered his options. They were few. He could stay here, and wait for those who blocked him to come and collect him. He could go back to Kanissi and fight as one of the citizens or, the third option was he could end himself, like She did, so long ago. The decision was not difficult, fighting would bring possibly swift capture and in any case, such a common action, actual combat, was he considered, beneath him. The third option was out of the question. He was not one to seek solace in the next existence.
“I will not end myself, whatever they may think,” he laughed aloud. “I remember that you swore never to take any of our lives and I will hold you to that, whatever you may be calling yourself now!” He raised his glass and took a long drink, a laugh rang out again as he perceived the arrival of strange ships in the system, circling the planet. But as he considered their size, highly advanced technology and numbers, he was both surprised and shocked. He had not considered such a response and riposte.
“So,” ‘Phil’ spoke aloud. “That is what you plan, we will see when we meet.” He tipped the remains of his glass out onto the foliage and went to pour another.