PesKal was airborne, approaching the landing site of the Atomic Press. Once on the ground, he would secure the Press as per Matrioshka’s orders.

“I am approaching the Press, captain.” he said. Through his eyes Matrioshka saw the 5-meter-wide crater, created by the Press impacting the ground at supersonic speeds. The Press’ main systems were still functional, it released pings and transmitted some basic diagnostics.

A carriage pulled by a long-legged animal rushed across a nearby road.

PesKal, from 55 meters in the air, saw two Miriani on board. The carriage banked right, into the road’s wooden fence and broke right through. The animal, which PesKal’s language pack translated as “horse-rabbit”, hit the fence hard. It whined loudly but continued to pull the carriage diligently.

The carriage was in the cabbage-eggplant field now, going straight for the Atomic Press.

“Estimated time of arrival is 13 second. I can reach the Press in 5.” PesKal said and dematerialized his glider. He entered a free-fall, directly above the Press.

“Merge with the Press, Officer PesKal.” Matrioshka advised.

PesKal was unsure; “To what end, captain?”

“You lack sufficient nanites to move the press by yourself at any reasonable rate. The Miriani within the carriage nearly have line of sight with the Press. Your best hope is to stay hidden until such a time when you can safely take the Press elsewhere.” Matrioshka explained.

“Understood, captain.” PesKal said just as he landed. Seamlessly, his nanites enveloped the Press, removing any descriptive grooves, panelling, or lettering. It was now a simple black cube.

The carriage stopped.

Two wax lanterns hung from its front, painting the crater red.

The two Miriani within the carriage were motionless. An older Miriani man was looking directly at PesKal through the carriage’s window.

“You were… right?” The older Miriani said to the other with a distinct note of disbelief.

“Of course, I was right Bemri! I saw it with my own eyes. It fell from the sky!” The other, a much younger male responded while opening the door.

“Sir Yim, please wait! It might be dangerous.” The older man, named Bemri, said.

Yim was already outside. “Oh, I bet its dangerous. You saw the size of the fire in the sky… this fell right out of it.” he said while unhooking a lantern.

Sir Yim wore dark robes, a wide black hat with an ornate symbol on the front. PesKal cross-referenced the symbol and found its meaning; it belonged to an order of scholars specialising in astronomy, named The New World society.

“You didn’t tell me that!” Bemri said while he quickly followed. He was old, near the end of his life, but still walked with a young man’s grit and determination. His robes were deep brown.

Both were of golden fur and visibly thinner than the Miriani average – less muscles, and certainly less fat.

“What would your parents say? If they saw you risking your life like this, this could be a temptation by the Giant.” Bemri said after he finally caught up with Yim.

They stood at the crater’s edge, staring in silence at the dark cube.

“They would praise me.” Yim whispered. “Do you see this Bemri?” he motioned at PesKal; ”It’s a cube! Since when do cubes fall from the sky?”

“These are troubling times Sir Yim. Oliver’s World is shining like the Suns, balls of fire appear above our most blessed city. I don’t think you should be exposing yourself like this!” Bemri said while Yim walked closer to the cube.

“Remarkable.” Yim said as he circled the object. PesKal watched him.

Yim extended a hand, and tentatively touched the cube, in direct contact with PesKal’s nanites. “What are you?” Yim murmured.

“Sir Yim, Daynight is almost over. The Suns will punish us if they see us. We must hurry.” Bemri said tensely.

Yim turned thoughtful. He looked at the cube and back at the carriage, his hand still resting on PesKal. “There is no way a single animal will be able to pull this weight.” he concluded.

“Officer PesKal, it might be beneficial if they took the Press somewhere less visible.” Matrioshka suggested.

“Just what I was thinking. I just need him to push on the cube with some force.” PesKal said as he instructed a group of nanites to tunnel into the ground. They closed in on Yim’s feet and gently threw him of balance.

“Wha…?” Yim was forced to put both hands on the cube to keep himself from falling.

As he did, PesKal moved the cube 30 centimetres forward – orchestrating the illusion the cube was much lighter than it looked.

“Huh? How is this possible?” Yim said, and after a moment added: “If it were truly this light, it would be less dense than air. How is it not flying away?”

“Smart.” PesKal said while looking at Yim, whose green eyes were staring intently at the cube, deep and calculating.

“Not good for us, Officer PesKal.” Matrioshka said dryly. “The less he knows the better.”

“Roger, captain. But still, I can respect his curiosity.”

Yim shook his head and called out to Bemri: “Do we still have the rope?”

Bemri looked disappointed. “Yes Sir, we do. But you can’t possibly plan to…”

“Bring it.”

Bemri sighed. “Yes, Sir…”

Yim and Bemri tied the rope around the cube and connected the other end to the carriage.

“Come on girl. I will give you a nice fresh pumpkin-pear if you get us home fast.” Yim said to the horse-rabbit while petting its longy fluffy ears. The creature released a satisfied neigh in return.

Both Miriani got back into the carriage, and Yim grabbed the reigns.

The carriage took off, dragging the cube behind it. And just in time too, PesKal saw another carriage approach the crater from the other direction. Bemri saw it as well, and turned to Yim.

“The owners of the field saw us. You better hope they do not recognise the carriage. Giant’s mercy we are driving across their cabbage-eggplants!” he said.

“Relax old man. Have a little fun, we are hauling the discovery of the century!”

“Discovery of the century or not, it will do you no good if you get in trouble before you can realise its potential.” Bemri scolded.

Yim did not respond, he just stared at the road. Bemri calmed as well. PesKal used nanites to push himself forwards, keeping the rope in tension but still allowing the poor horse-rabbit to drag him.

Matrioshka observed her crew, they were all in various stages of intermingling with the indigenous population.

Well, not indigenous. They are from another planet, aren’t they? Matrioshka thought and scanned the city once more. She used the scattered nanites of her crew to try and find any mention of life on other planets. Or the fact the Miriani did not originate from Rosamond’s World.

She found none.

Strange. You would think at least some information would have persisted.

The scanner did not have sufficient range to probe beneath the surface, where more than half of the city’s infrastructure is located, so Matrioshka was evidently missing crucial information.

Matrioshka heard a voice: “I’m telling you I saw something!”

It was coming from below Matrioshka’s tree and nearer to the palace. The voice belonged to the young Miriani Matrioshka saw on the roof.

He was followed by 11 other Miriani; guards.

Uh oh. Matrioshka thought and jumped further away.

“Of course, prince Ketri. Lead the way.” A high-ranking guard said as he waved the other guards to follow. He seemed to be a trusted friend of the prince. Ketri clinged to the guard’s hand.

“You will see uncle Rumel. You will see.” the prince said excitedly.

The prince was leading his entourage to a tree some 36 meters away from Matrioshka’s current position.

When the guards reached the tree, Rumel ordered them to encircle it.

“This is the one, yes?” Rumel asked the prince.

“Yes! I saw it fall from the sky; it was black like the bat-mouse. But much much bigger.”

Rumel looked dubiously at the little prince; he went to issue another command to his guards but thought better of it.

Rumel sighed and began to climb the tree. He scaled it with ease. The Miriani anatomy lent itself to incredible arm strength and dexterity. Rumel was within the canopy in 10 seconds.

One of the guards snickered.

“Did I hear something!?” Rumel yelled from the tree.

“I uh… sneezed! High Defender, sir!” yelled a female Miriani, still trying to stifle a laugh.

Rumel grumbled but didn’t comment further. He trusted the prince at least somewhat, and was inspecting the tree intently. His eyes passed over a couple of stress fractures caused by Matrioshka’s weight. He wasn’t too attentive fortunately, and didn’t seem to think much of them.

“There is nothing here my prince.” Rumel declared and climbed down.

“But, I’m sure! It was like the sea but black. It moved like jelly.” Prince Ketri tried to persuade his uncle.

Rumel shook his head and said: “Blessed Daynight is almost over. Are you sure this is the best way to spend your time? Your philosophy teachers tell me you have been skipping on homework again. What would your brother think?”

The prince looked stricken. “Brother doesn’t care what I do… If the King doesn’t care, why should you?”

Rumel looked at the guards who all tried very hard not to listen. He dismissed them with a wave of the hand. They obeyed, falling into a tight formation, and marching away. The female who laughed, who’s name Matrioshka scanned to be Nehri, glanced back a couple of times as they went.

Rumel took off his helmet and sat down, leaning his back on the tree. He tapped the ground next to him and the prince sat down as well. They looked at the garden, the walls beyond it, the city, the mountains, and finally; the Duchess above it all - flying in the sky.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Your brother does care.” Rumel said. “He has a lot on his plate. Running an empire is not easy.”

“Is it not? I wouldn’t know.” The prince pouted.

“It is. You father didn’t sleep for a week straight once. He stayed up from Daynight to Daynight. It was during the famine in the 9th a few years back, If I remember right…” Rumel said as he took a small bag of dried grape-fig from his pocket. He put one in his mouth and offered one to the prince.

The prince grabbed three and ate all at the same time.

Rumel smiled and patted the prince on the head as he chewed.

“The starting period is rough especially. Your brother does what he thinks is best for everyone. You can’t really fault him for that can you?”

“I guess not.” the prince said. “I just wish he talked to me more. I hate his stupid job.”

“Being king is more than a job, Ketri. And King Orak is doing good so far.” Rumel put another grape-fig in his mouth. “I can talk to him if you want? Tell him to visit you more often…?”

Rumel’s words upset the prince. He stood up sharply. “No! I don’t want anybody telling him what to do. He should want it on his own.” The prince stormed off back into the palace.

The guard watched him go, sighed, and whispered to the sky. “He is a difficult one. So much like you sister… impossible to reason with when he is worked up.”

Rumel got to his feet and went to find the other guards, and Matrioshka stopped paying attention to him. She watched the prince, who after storming away from his uncle, ran through the palace. Then she lost sensor range.

Without much thinking, Matrioshka confirmed no guards were looking at her directly, and flowed towards the palace.

She left most of the nanites and her lattice on the tree.

Matrioshka strongly related to the prince. She thought of Shkadov the entire time the prince talked to his uncle. Now she wished to know more; does the King really ignore his brother, or is there more than meets the eye.

Matrioshka’s nanites slinged across the palace walls, their sensors searched for prince Ketri. They found him in his room.

It was wide, filled with toys of varying designs and purpose. Though the prince, who was approaching his young adulthood, was a bit too old for them by Miriani standards, he still grabbed a plush cat-mouse and hugged it in his bed.

The room wasn’t slept in recently. This was confirmed by scans of the palace’s floor plan, indicating the prince’s actual room was deep beneath the ground.

Servants dutifully worked elsewhere in the palace. Matrioshka could see cooks, maids and butlers attending to their duties using her sensors.

A group of three pink-furred Miriani caught her attention, some 55 meters away on the ground floor of the palace. They carried weapons; short blades hidden in their sleeves. They walked briskly, checking each corridor for other Miriani. They would proceed only when the coast was clear.

They did not speak. Instead, they used short hand signals. The two males deferred to the female as she guided them up from the first floor.

Two palace guards emerged from a door and stared at the three unknown figures.

“Who are you?” asked one of the guards after a moment of baffled silence.

In response, he was stabbed in the brain through his eye. He fell on the floor, dead long before impact.

The other guard responded quickly; he slashed the killer over the face, severing the jaw. The two other intruders were already assailing the remaining guard. He suffered 12 stab wounds to his torso, and 3 to his head, before his heart stopped beating.

“Halan.” the leading figure whispered, and kneeled next to the wounded intruder.

He was choking on his own blood. The strike had opened an artery that directed warm blood into his breathing canal. Halan would not last another minute.

“It’s alright…” Halan managed to mumble with his dangling jaw. “Finish the job Sumi. For our home, for our people. For the flowers Sumi...”

“Yes, my love.” Sumi said as she held Halan’s head gently, and stabbed him in the heart.

“Rest dear.” she said.

Matrioshka watched with a morbid fascination. Three people just died in front of her - three minds were snuffed out for all eternity. Matrioshka had not witnessed such a thing for centuries.

Sumi left her dead lover on the floor. His blood, and the blood of two dead guards, mixed on the wooden floor. Sumi and her remaining accomplice were running. Their boots left blood-stained marks behind them.

A butler, carrying a sweet fruit drink, was in their way now. He was an aging Miriani with white fur. Before he could react, Sumi grabbed him and twisted. He was on the floor now, face down, drink shattered.

“Wha-“ he tried to say.

“Answer me this.” Sumi interrupted him. “The prince? Where is he? Speak and I will spare your life.”

Screams rang out in a distant hallway. A maid had stumbled onto the corpses.

Trembling, the butler said: “I don’t know exactly, most of the time he is hiding in his upstairs room, but…”

Sumi quietly placed a blade between the butler’s neck and head, she jumped and pressed her feet onto the blade. The move decapitated the man.

Matrioshka stared at the butler’s head, rolling on the floor.

“We go up.” Sumi declared and ran. Her accomplice followed.

The prince. Matrioshka thought. He is in danger.

Prince Ketri was still in his room. His ears quirked towards the screams, and went to investigate. Before he could open the door, a guard opened it for him.

“Stay here your highness. It is not safe for you to leave.” the guard said.

“Oh alright. Is everything alright?” prince Ketri asked.

“Not sure yet my prince. Please stay in the room.” The guard said and closed the door. Three more guards joined the two in front of the prince’s room, they were ready, blades drawn.

Sumi reached the corridor leading to the prince. One of the guards was there, running in their direction. The guard laid eyes on them, and was about to scream for help until Sumi’s accomplice extended a hand, throwing a dagger into the guard’s throat, severing their cervical spine.

“Nice work, Dall. Hurry.” Sumi said as she jumped over the dead guard.

They reached a corner. Sumi used a small mirror to check what was beyond it.

She saw the prince’s door and the five guards standing watch in front of it.

Commotion on the lower floor signalled the mobilisation of additional guards. Sumi had little time and she knew it. Rummaging through a coat pocket, she took hold of a small circular object with a short rope sticking out of it.

You’re kidding me… a bomb? Matrioshka thought as she scanned the object, confirming its thermal properties.

Dall lit the fuse with a piece of iron and flint while Sumi held the bomb in her hands. When lit, Sumi threw the sphere at the guards, and ducked further behind the corner.

The bomb exploded.

The raw kinetic energy killed the three guards closest to the bomb. The fourth guard’s brain was pierced by a shard of bone launched from another’s exploding body.

The fifth guard was on fire, screaming. He would die within the minute if the fire was not put out, or within the week from burns and infection if it was.

The explosion annihilated the door and a portion of the wall leading to the prince’s room. Matrioshka looked, and was glad the prince was relatively unharmed, only a shallow cut on the forehead, gifted by a high-velocity splinter.

The prince was in his bed - terrified, hiding bellow the covers.

“I thought you said it would create a small bang.” Dall said while shaking his head. “That was a large bang.”

“I knew as much as Halan told me. He bought the device.” Sumi responded as she walked over the small crater created by the bomb.

The flaming guard was still screaming. Sumi ended his misery with a stab to his heart. She stepped into the prince’s room.

Matrioshka scanned the prince. Hormones raged in his brain. Anxiety, anger, and most of all; fear. She pitied him, and decided to act.

Matrioshka built a body out of her nanites, and sent her lattice to be buried in the garden – it thumped onto the grass and was pulled beneath by its nanites. Filtering for the genes of the ambient guards, Matrioshka selected genetic markers common across all the guards, and simulated the form of a female Miriani. She was golden furred, tall, rippling with muscles, and as always - had red eyes, designed by her father all those years ago. She dressed the body in the pristine uniform of the palace guard.

She broke through the ceiling window overlooking the prince’s room.

Glass rained down as she fell.

Matrioshka landed atop of Dall, directing the fall’s energy into his skull, and rendering him peacefully unconscious. She scanned him just to be sure – no permanent injury.

Sumi was half way to the prince’s bed, blade in hand. She turned when the window broke and was in a defensive position now. She stared at Matrioshka, and down at the unconscious Dall.

Her gaze flickered back to the bed, where the prince emerged from the covers, staring at the scene.

Sumi lunged.

She was fast.

By Miriani standards.

But by the Imperial; she was slower than a snail.

Matrioshka was already between her and the prince. Surprise was evident on Sumi’s face, she twisted, never breaking her stride, and brought the blade towards Matrioshka’s neck.

Matrioshka lifted her right arm and blocked the blow with a dagger of her own. With her left hand, she pushed Sumi away.

Hard.

Sumi struck a wardrobe, breaking it into timber, and fell unconscious. Scans suggested she was alive with minor head trauma.

Matrioshka turned and looked at the prince.

“Whoa.” the prince said, looking up at Matrioshka.

“Are you alright, my prince?” Matrioshka asked. The voice generated by this random combination of simulated DNA, and nanite vocal cords, must have sounded stranger than anticipated, as the prince cringed slightly.

“Yes. Thank you.” Ketri responded.

Rumel ran into the room, blade ready, other guards rushed in after him. They would have been moments too late if Matrioshka had not intervened.

“Uncle!” the prince yelled and ran towards the guard.

“Clear!” a guard yelled when he checked Sumi. Another repeated the same when they checked Dall.

Rumel relaxed and hugged the prince. “You are safe, dear nephew.” Rumel looked at Matrioshka and grew wary.

Matrioshka was not meeting his gaze, she was transfixed with Sumi. The Miriani’s brain had flared, neurons surging inwards toward a small scar in her brain. Rumel stared at Matrioshka for a few moments more, then released Ketri from the hug. He said:

“The danger has passed, but you should stay in your downstairs room until I come get you. There will be more guards than usual following you for a couple of weeks.”

“Brother?” Ketri asked.

“King Orak is unharmed.”

The prince looked at Sumi and Dall, both were restrained and carried out of the room. “Who are they?” he asked.

Rumel exchanged a look with Nehri, the female guard he was fond of, judging by the hormones Matrioshka could detect.

“We will find out, my prince. You needn’t worry. How about you go down to your room and get on the philosophy work you’ve been avoiding?”

Ketri groaned.

“No complaints. I outrank you in events of emergency.” Rumel said with a smile.

“Fineeee…” Ketri said and left the room. Three guards tailed him.

Rumel watched Matrioshka again. His brain chemistry suggested anxiety.

Did I mess up the creation of this body? Matrioshka thought.

“You were here when the attackers arrived?” Rumel asked.

Matrioshka faced him and said: “I was.”

“Then the Palace Guard owes you an immortal debt. You saved the prince’s life.” Rumel praised outwardly, but anxiety raged within.

“I did what any other guard would.”

“Praise when praise is earned.” Rumel said and looked at the dead Miriani guards. They were being covered by brown blankets; a large striped sphere was embroidered on the front.

By lore compiled through PesKal and Damien, it symbolised the Giant, a personification of the Duchess. Who guards the Miriani from the Suns and leads the dead into the afterlife. Yet also a visage of death, the Miriani both revered and feared their world’s celestial parent.

“Follow me for the briefing, guard…?” Rumel asked.

Matrioshka considered a name for herself. She searched PesKal’s language pack and found a charmed coincidence.

“Metri Olska.” She said and sent a group of nanites to falsify her documents.

Rumel turned further towards suspicion but did not comment on it. He exchanged another look with Nehri.

“Follow me, guard Metri.” he said.

“Yes sir.” Matrioshka said and went after him. She was followed by Nehri and two more.

The guards were understandably suspicious. Scans suggested they all knew each other personally, and Matrioshka appeared out of nowhere. Matrioshka also noticed that, in her haste, she had made her body 21% larger than was expected of a Miriani female.

The nanites she sent to curate her documents had found the administrative centre of the Palace Guard. It was a well-guarded building within the palace walls. The nanites sneaked inside without issue, and falsified the relevant files.

She could do nothing about the lens. At least until the Press was once again operational.

Rumel led Matrioshka below the ground, he was still on edge, as was Nehri. She walked close to Matrioshka, hand on her blade.

They stopped near an empty room on the second subterran floor. Rumel entered first, followed by Matrioshka and the others. Nehri locked the door behind them.

Rumel’s brain chemistry stabilised. He was beginning to relax.

There was a low table between two large blue pillows. Rumel sat in one, and gestured towards the other.

Matrioshka sat.

“Can you tell me what happened in Prince Ketri’s room, guard Metri?” asked Rumel.

Matrioshka replied without pause: “Certainly. I heard a commotion, followed by a large bang coming from the prince’s room. I entered and saw his majesty attacked by two intruders. I disabled both with blunt force trauma. I landed on the first and pushed the other into furniture.”

Rumel’s ears lowered in the Miriani equivalent of scepticism.

“Landed? Where did you enter from?” he asked.

“The roof. I broke through the ceiling window.”

“The ceiling window… then what?” Rumel’s ears arched further.

“Like I said; I landed on the first Miriani. The force generated by my 8.23-meter fall was sufficient to induce unconsciousness.”

All the guards exchanged looks. Matrioshka wondered what she was missing.

“You sustained no injuries during the fall?” Rumel asked.

Oh!

“No. I think I have broken by left foot right below the knee. Additionally, I sprained my right ankle.” Matrioshka said and put her left leg on the table. She furled her trouser and showed a horridly bent bruise.

“I see. Then further commendations are in order; You disabled the second intruder while injured. You will be well decorated, guard Metri.” Rumel said, his ears, but not his mind, relaxing. He then added:

“What were you doing on the roof? There are no patrol lines there.”

Ah. That. Matrioshka thought. She felt she was too well mannered to be believable. A miracle saviour – who just happened to be at the right place at the right time?

Rumel would never buy it. Matrioshka could see it in his eyes.

Matrioshka tried her best to appear ashamed, and filtered PesKal language pack for a random opiate.

“I found the roof was a good place to be alone. I use Blue-bloom.” she said.

Rumel’s anxiety vanished and was replaced by anger. “You were doing drugs while on duty?” he asked, bewildered.

Nehri interjected; “No wonder you don’t feel that leg. You’re blazed out of your damn mind.” She added to Rumel:

“It also explains her recklessness. Blue-bloom makes you ignore basic self-preservation instincts. I’m surprised she didn’t throw herself off the roof sooner.”

Rumel shook his head. “Ridiculous! This is grounds for dishonourable discharge, and imprisonment! Metri...” His gaze softened. “But considering you saved the prince’s life; we will bring it down to just short-term detention.”

“Find a suitable room within the lower barracks.” Rumel said to the other two guards within the room. “Keep guard Metri there until I tell you otherwise. Form a standard shift rotation.”

Matrioshka got up, and at least pretended to have an injured leg. One of the guards helped her up, and they led her out and away. Matrioshka focused back on the room as they walked.

“You trust her?” asked Nehri, alone with Rumel.

“No chance under the Giant’s shadow she is telling the truth.” Rumel declared.

As Matrioshka was led away by the two armoured aliens, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking:

This is… fun?