Favorite Songs, pt 2

I was rather hoping that Whirljack would write the obligatory piece of introductory prose, but he seems to have shoved the project into my lap.  So here it is…the second installment of the favorite songs list, emanations 11-20 – ed.

*****

Cillian – This is easy: the greatest song ever produced by human civilization is Julie and the Mothman by Kasabian.  There’s no argument.  Just listen to these stunningly poignant lyrics: “I am the mothman, I wanna eat right through your clothes.”  Gives me chills.

Davy – Soul Candy by Earthphish.  Why do I like it?  It’s obvious.

Wynne – The Last High by the Dandy Warhols.  It sounds like just the sort of situation I’d get myself into. [But what is up with that vid?  New Romantics in 2009?  Was it some sort of pathetic homage, or an attempt to be cooly ironic?  I’m embarrassed just to watch it – Driscoll.]

Owen – I got all choked up when I first heard Cliquot by Beirut.  It’s so sad and so beautiful.

Driscoll – I put a lot of thought into this choice.  At first, I thought I should go with a timeless classic, but then I realized that the classic is always the safe bet, a hallmark of small minds.  But if not a classic, then what?  If I chose something trendy, it could become dated, a bagatelle eventually dismissed as “so 20th Century.” Worse still, if I chose a work by cutting edge darlings, they could eventually do the unbearably unthinkable by becoming famous, important and thus plebeian (Cillian, take note!)  There was only one way out of this conundrum: kitsch.  Something wonderfully campy would give me the luxury of liking it whilst winking one eye at the cognoscenti.  In retrospect, there was only ever one possibility: ABBA.  And what could be better than this obviously lip-synched performance of Kisses of Fire?  Blue eyeshadow, lip gloss, garishly colored satin leggings…I swear I’m going to dress the Panic-droids at the casino like that.

Ross – Fallen, not Broken by the Wolfgang Press.

Callum – Do I have to?  Having preferences can really be troublesome for a submissive.  If I have to, I suppose this one. [M&Ms by Tei Shi – ed.]  “I deserved it.  I deserved it.”  Just so.

Suibhne – My favorite song is Moro, Lasso, al mio Duolo by Carlo Gesualdo.  My favorite song is Some Velvet Morning by Nancy and Lee.

Tarlach – I was one of the ones who had to do some research, as my tastes gravitate towards IndWorld Zonepopp.  As it turns out, I’m grateful to have had this opportunity.  I discovered an enormous amount of amazing music in the 20th Century alone.  Of everything I listened to, the one which really stuck with me was Let’s Make This Precious by Dexy’s Midnight Runners.  It’s a lot more organic than the music I normally like, but it’s infectious, and so positive and upbeat.

Lugh – I think Feel Good, Inc. by Gorillaz is a great song with a great message.  And I love the part in the vid with the flying windmill, although you can really see the limits of the 21st Century vidding technology – wouldn’t this performance be great as a holo?   Anyway, I wish we had one of those windmills.  Maybe Owen can build one.  [That video is positively dripping with poisonous irony.  How, how, HOW could you miss it??? – Driscoll.]

[Wait, where in the rules did it say that Driscoll gets to comment on our choices and really make a compost bin of himself? – Cillian.]

[Don’t ask me, I’m just the editor – ed.]

The Prophecy of Ash

A complete short story taken from the upcoming novella/short story collection The Poison Garden © Meighan Chimera 2014.

*****

It was during the court season on Eirelantra; Tara was in attendance with me.  At this point, she was still hesitant about taking the blue amrita, but she sensed that it pleased us.  That afternoon, Elma had approached her, urging her to take the drug right away – there was something important that she needed to see.  Tara queried why Elma simply did not tell of the vision herself.  Elma replied, “I haven’t seen it.  It isn’t my vision – it’s yours.”  This made about as much sense as anything Elma ever said.

The vision was brief, and the trance-state did not linger.  Tara sat upright in her chair and shouted across the room to me.  “Mount Stormbringer’s going to blow!”

“That’s on Volparnu, isn’t it?”

“Yep,” said Tara, pouring a drink with shaking hands.  “Volcanism – another of the planets’ many charms.  You know, I don’t half blame the Heroes of Volparnu for the War of the Sexes.  The 3rd Matriarch really screwed them when she grabbed Skarsia for herself.”

I placed my hand gently on her shoulder, guiding her to the couch.  “Why didn’t they just share it?  Skarsia is big.  There couldn’t have been that many colonists.”

“They were in that wormhole forty years.  That was back in the day before pathfinders.  The fight started before they even got there.  It was the 2nd Matriarch’s fault.  She was Haudenostani herself, and she insisted on a matriarchal form of government.  She really alienated the Kawaiians and the Arabians.  She had the Afrikans and the Kelts on her side – or at least, the Kelts pretended to be.  Battlequeen Janneen was planning to claim Sideria, and get right out of that mess.  Of course, that didn’t work since Sideria was uninhabitable without terraforming.  The Matriarch’s allies ended up on Skarsia – by the time they made planetfall, it was the 3rd Matriarch – and the others got stuck with Volparnu.  They never forgave it, and rekindled the conflict in the time of the 4th Matriarch, as soon as they had the resources to do it.”

“Well, I suppose that’s all water under the roots.  What should we do about the volcano, though?”

“Maybe Owen should run some simulations.  That should be within his specialty, right?  See if we can predict a timeframe for the eruption, and how bad the damage will be.”

 *****

Late in the afternoon, Owen broke into the middle of the council meeting.  “I have two questions,” he said, interrupting Battlequeen Escharton in the middle of an impassioned complaint about Eden’s famed turquoise corn undercutting the Skarsian quinoa market, “one: why are there only three seismic activity monitoring stations on all of Volparnu, and two: why is the city of Ventosty, population 5,493,241, built on the edge of an active volcano?”

“I can answer that, your Highness,” said General Lemkht.  “Ventosty – originally Vent-toasty – was built on a hot springs, a rare and treasured luxury on Volparnu.  Aside from the resident population, it’s the only place on Volparnu with a significant tourist industry.  Thousands come each year to take the waters for their health.  As for the seismic monitoring stations, they’re relatively new, and established for scientific research.  Traditionally, the heroes of Volparnu believed that such things as earthquakes were in the hands of the gods.”

“And what do the residents of Ventosty, both permanent and itinerant, intend to do if that volcano erupts?” said Owen, running his hands restlessly through his unkempt hair.   “Change the name of the city to Ventoasted?”

Lemkht tapped his hand nervously on the desk in front of him.  “Well, it’s a dormant volcano.  But in the case of any natural disaster, we rather expect you to handle it, Highness.  Or at least, the Archon.”

“How?”

“What?”

“No, how?  The power grid has no influence on plate tectonics.”

“But those problems never come up on Dolparessa.”

“Dolparessa is a moon that probably formed from an ancient planetary collision.  It doesn’t have volcanoes.”

“But you control the weather.  Even the rotational period of Dolparessa is artificial.”

“The Archon is able to channel energy from the power grid to control the weather on Dolparessa.  Nowhere else, though.  And the rotational mechanism is Flaxxshi technology.  I’ve studied it, but not nearly enough to reproduce it.”

Lemkht looked exasperated.  It was a strange paradox: he was willing to argue with the person of his God rather than alter his blind faith.  “The Archon stopped a black hole.  A volcano is nothing in comparison.”

“A black hole has the advantage of being in the middle of empty space.  Sure, Ailann could start messing around with the geophysics of the planet – then what?  Stop the volcano from destroying Ventosty, and then the pressure builds up between plates in the FrosteeFreez Ocean – next thing you know, Coldport is buried under a mountain of volcanic sleet and Frostharbor is swept away by an icy tsunami.  A planet is not a toy.”

Tara stood.  “Well, how bad is it going to be?  And when?”

“Weeks, perhaps a month at best, from what I could gather from that sketchy equipment.  There was a minor earthquake last week.”

“Minor is the key word,” said Lemkht.  “It was a tremor.  No one was harmed.”

“It’s a warning sign.  The closest seismic station reported that there have been a series of small quakes too far below the surface for anyone to notice – it’s been going on for about two years.  I need a lot more information before I can reasonably predict, but judging by the size of the peak, the volcano has had a high output in the past.  Once it gets going, it could be a months, maybe a year before it stops.  We could be looking at fifteen cubic kilometers of lava by the time we’re through.”

“Couldn’t we shield the city with a force bubble?” Tara asked.

“Yeah, but then the bubble will get buried under tephra.  The city would literally have to be excavated to get back into it – we couldn’t just disperse the bubble because then the debris will come raining down on the city all at once, completely crushing the buildings.  We’d have to import the excavation equipment, and we couldn’t start until the eruption stopped, and it could take a year to dig out, and we’d have to maintain the force bubble until then – major undertaking, Tara.  But I’m more worried about a different scenario: clouds of volcanic gasses that will block the sun and contaminate everything with acid rain.  Given the weather patterns on Volparnu, those clouds could travel halfway across the planet.  And it will prevent people from getting off the planet too – only military ships could get through the clouds of gasses and dust.  My advice is to evacuate now, and prepare to deal with a major famine.”

“But you have to do something,” said Lemkht.  “You’re God.”

“Owen is depicting a worst case scenario,” said Tara.  “But Ailann is Archon, not Owen.  Ailann will handle it.  Owen is right about one thing – we need more information, and time to come up with a reasonable plan.  I’m adjourning the council for the rest of the day.”

Tara grabbed Owen’s hand, leading him from the council chambers.  Lugh followed closely behind, with Lord Danak at the rear.  “That wasn’t good, Your Highness,” said Lord Danak.  “The people expect a show of confidence from their god.”

Owen turned on him.  “The people expect a show of stupidity,” he said.  “We’ve got to evacuate now.”

“I really think Ailann…” Tara began.

“Ailann will drink half a bottle of Scotch and then solidify the magma cap.  Two years from now, it’ll blow with a fury and magnitude that will be seen from orbit.”  He took Tara’s hand.  “I’m a mining engineer.  I know when the earth isn’t happy, doll-face.  You can’t put a bandage on it.”  His eyes were moist and pleading.  “Tara, I’ve already seen what happens when a mine collapses.  We’re not talking about a few hundred miners here.  We’re talking about millions of people.”

Tara pressed her palms against her eyes.  No matter his rough exterior, Owen was too sensitive for this kind of work.  Or maybe Owen had been created to do this kind of work just because he was sensitive.  If it were left to Cüinn, he’d see it all as a grand research opportunity and probably end up blowing a hole into another universe.  “Well, what can you do?”

“I don’t know that anything can be done.  I’ll have to look at it firsthand.  I’ve got to get a feel for the planet on an intuitive level.  It’s not like I have roots there.”

“Your eminence,” said Lord Danak, “I believe that you should go to Volparnu.  Scientific examination aside, at a time of crisis like this, it would be best for the ipsissimal couple to put in an appearance for the sake of public relations.”

“I’m not going back to that fucking hellhole.  Discussion closed.”  Tara pulled free of Owen and walked swiftly away from them, disappearing into the hilift before they could catch her.

 *****

“The point is, Tara, I’m not God,” said Owen, as he and Lugh entered the ipsissimal suite.  Tara was already sitting near the window, sulking over a t’kila sunsrise.  The hazy light of duskshift made her mood seem even darker.  “I really don’t understand why you and Ailann insisted on mythologizing the Archon.  It wasn’t a wise lie to perpetuate.”

“It’s not a lie.”

“Oh come on.”

“It isn’t!  You look me straight in the eye and tell me that Ashtara is not a god.”

“Well, I and I is different, but…” Lugh began.

“But?”

“I mean Ailann isn’t really…”

“Ash creates life.  He makes people virtually immortal.  He controls the power and defense capabilities of this entire system.”

“That doesn’t mean He can wave His hand and make a volcano go away.”

“Oh?  Everything I’ve ever needed him to do, he’s done.  So do it.”

“And you won’t come with me?”

“Not to Volparnu, no.”

“All right,” said Owen.  “Lugh, you stay here.”

“Owen!” Lugh responded, alarmed.

“Come on, you know what Ari’ll say if we leave Tara alone for a long period of time.  I could be gone for a couple of weeks.”

“Aw, fuck,” said Lugh, his disappointment evident.  Being apart from Owen was not why he emanated.

“Not acceptable,” said Tara.  “We don’t know what would happen if Owen got himself killed.  The two of you have to stay together.”

“I’m not going to die, Tara,” said Owen, annoyed.  “I’m going to ride a shuttle to Volparnu, like people in this system do every day quite safely.”

“And you’re going to go look inside an active volcano, yes?”

“Well…”

“She’s right,” said Lugh.  “I’m not leaving you.”

“Then you have to come with us,” said Owen.

“I swore I’d never go back there,” said Tara.  “I need another drink.”

“No, you don’t” said Lugh, taking the glass from her.  “You need to face your fears.”

“I’m not afraid,” said Tara.

“I am,” said Lugh.  “All of us are.  We’ll never forget how helpless Daniel and Sloane felt, not being able to go to Volparnu when you were taken there.”

“But this time, you’d have two of us with you,” added Owen.  “I could get the work done, and Lugh could stay by your side at all times.”

Tara snatched her glass back.  “I’m not a child,” she said.  “I’m the Matriarch of Skarsia.”

“Then start acting like it,” said Lugh.  “You know that Danak was right.”

“You used to be a lot nicer,” said Tara, looking at Lugh defiantly.

“I am nice.  I’ve just learned that being nice doesn’t mean being a pushover.”

“Lugh’s very nice,” said Owen, coming up behind her.  He bent close to her ear.  “Don’t you want to see how nice Lugh can be?”

 *****

Tara had just stepped out of the bath when she received a message that a visitor was waiting.  It was Ta’al Erich.

“I should go with you,” he said, stooping to kiss her hand.  “Unlike Lemkht, I appreciate the dire nature of the situation.  Or perhaps I lack a certain faith,” he said, winking at Owen, “in the supposed omnipotence of the Archon.”

“We never claimed to be omnipotent,” said Owen, annoyed.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” said Lugh.  “We can handle it.”

“Reconsider, my lord.  No one knows the political situation on Volparnu better than I.  And, although it pains me to say it, the words of Her Eminence will be met with a certain attitude of dismissiveness.”

“He may have a point,” said Tara.  “They don’t listen to women.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Erich.  “Ventosty is actually quite liberal.  I meant that there’s a lingering resentment towards the office of Matriarch, and you, in particular.  Everyone remembers how you shamed the Tenzain.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t go, after all.”

“On the contrary.  It is an opportune time for you to mend fences.”

“I don’t get it,” said Lugh.  “Wouldn’t mending fences mean restoring a barrier to communication?”

“This just gets worse with every passing minute,” said Tara resignedly.  She had no idea how right she was.

*****

Eirelantra was not far from Volparnu.  In less than half a day, Tara, Lugh and Owen found themselves planetside with Ta’al Erich.

“The person to speak to is the Highman of Ventosty, a man named Bok’kaan.”

“Highman is sort of like a mayor,” said Tara, “except it’s an hereditary title.”

“Geez, it’s cold,” muttered Owen.  “I need to get a fur coat or something.”

“Actually, it’s relatively warm,” said Tara.  “Look – the ocean isn’t even frozen.”

The party looked eastward, down the slope, where ice-blue waves lapped against the ice-white shoreline.  The sky was clear; the small sun did its best to radiate a meager warmth.  “It’s -6°C,” said Erich.  “The average on Volparnu is around -30°.”

“That’s brutal,” said Lugh.  “How do people survive here?”

“Very carefully,” said Erich.

The party, surrounded by an honor guard, made its way from the spaceport towards the city.  They were greeted at the gates by the highman.  “It is my honor to receive such esteemed visitors,” he said.

“Our thanks for your hospitality,” said Erich.

“We have planned a reception for you tomorrow.  For the moment, let me show you to your accommodations.  I’ve made arrangements for you to stay in my private manor.  I thought it was more personal than a suite at the Snowbird Hotel.”

“I’m sure whatever you’ve arranged will be fine,” said Owen, “but I’d like to get to work right away.  We haven’t any time to waste.  It’s likely we’ll need to evacuate within the week.”

“There will be no evacuation,” said Bok’kaan.

“I realize that this is a difficult thing to face,” Owen replied, “but that volcano is going to blow, and this city with it.”

Bok’kaan laughed.  “Do you think we’re at the foot of Codradome?  Stormbringer isn’t active.  This city has stood for eight centuries, and it has never once erupted.”

“Isn’t active?  Hell-o, you’re on a hot springs.  Eight centuries is nothing on a geological scale.”

“When did it last erupt?” asked Tara.

“Um,” said Owen, “I don’t exactly know.  For a planet with so much volcanism, there’s been remarkably little geological study.”

Bok’kaan waved his hands dismissively.  “We’re in the hands of the gods,” he said.  “But come, enjoy our city while you stay.  It is truly the jewel of Volparnu.”

“It is quite lovely,” said Tara. looking around.  “Honestly, it’s very different from Fort Frostbane.”  In fact, Fort Frostbane, the capital where Tara had lived, was a typical Volparnian city, with its bleak, utilitarian walls of stone.  Decoration was considered a frivolity, so there was little in the way of relief from its starkness.  Ventosty stood in dramatic contrast.  The streets were lined with cute little Alpine chateaus; gay flags fluttered in the chill air.

Bok’kaan smiled broadly.  “Each year, thousands of visitors flock to our resort, and not only for the hot springs.  We have an excellent ski lodge, ice-fishing expeditions, and at evening, a festival of lights at seaside.  Also, we are well-known for our cuisine.”

“It all sounds great,” said Owen, “but I want to make it clear that the gods – or at least this god – aren’t going to take care of the volcano.”

“I’m afraid I’m not an Archonist,” said Bok’kaan.  “I don’t believe in that newfangled stuff.  Archonism is mostly a woman’s religion anyway, since they’re banned from the majority religion, the Mithras cult.  Personally, I’m an Odinist.  Odinism is a proper religion for a ruler.”

“Why don’t you show us to our quarters,” inserted Erich before Owen could continue.  “His Highness Prince Owen can take a few of the guards and ascend the peak.  Can they avail themselves of a hovercar?”

“Oh, just take the airtram with the skiers,” said Bok’kaan.  “It’s a much more dramatic view.”

Owen and Lugh exchanged a look which Tara clearly read as they’ve built an airtram up the side of an active volcano.  She shrugged.  She never had thought much of the intelligence of the men of Volparnu.

 *****

“I’m not sure I understand about the religion thing,” said Lugh as they settled in.  “I thought most Skarsians were Mithraists.  What did he mean about forbidden to women?”

“Oh, he’s right, the ancient cult of Mithras was forbidden to women.  It was a soldier’s religion.  But the thing they don’t get here is that the Romans always partnered it with the cult of the Magna Mater.  On Skarsia, the two cults are joined into Reform Mithraism, and the myths get a little mashed up.  The great goddess Cybele’s mortal lover, Attis, represents the vegetative cycle.  But when he dies, Mithras and Aion work together to spin new testicles for him out of the starlight.  He then resurrects as Sol Invictus, the victorious sun.  That’s what we celebrate at the Winter Solstice.”

“I really don’t understand religion,” said Lugh.  “I’m happy to leave that stuff to Ailann, and keep my testicles the way they are.”

“I’m sure that Owen appreciates that sentiment.  As for religion, I think Bok’kaan is nuts, really, to be an Odinist.  Odin always deserts his favorites at the end.”

“That doesn’t sound very nice.”

“Well, Odin is a very fatalistic sort of god, and he’s always playing for the end game.  He wants what’s best for humanity, but at the same time, he’s always working within the constraints of the Norns, of fate.  It does have a logical appeal for rulers.  But it’s pretty depressing – Odin takes the long view – which is that sooner or later, you’ve got to lose.  If you had to pick from that pantheon, I’d go for Thor.  Thor is generally worshipped by the common man.  He’s a nice guy and looks out for you.  But he takes the short view.”

“Ailann takes the long view,” said Lugh, “and Ailann doesn’t believe in losing.”

“Ailann is part of the reason we’re in this mess,” said Tara.  “I hope Owen can figure out something.”

Soon, they were summoned for dinner.  Tara, Lugh and Erich joined Bok’kaan; Owen hadn’t yet returned.

Tara was surprised to see that Bok’kaan’s wife, Niva, was a lively conversationalist, and not nearly as deferential as the women Tara had known when she’d lived with Merkht.  She was rather severe looking, her hair trimmed in a neat bob, shorter than fashionable for Volparnu.  When she smiled, it seemed as though lines of frost had etched themselves permanently into her face.

Tara glanced at Erich and he shrugged.  He had said that Ventosty was liberal, probably as a product of the tourist trade.

The dining hall had the warm ambiance of a chateau, with a large frostbeast’s head mounted above the stone slabs of the enormous fireplace.  Dinner was a beef tenderloin, freshly-baked turquoise cornbread with greengrain butter, and an assortment of grilled root vegetables.  “I’m afraid the steak is imported,” said Bok’kaan, “but all the produce is local.”

“The turquoise corn must be from Eden,” said Lugh.

“Actually, we’ve just started to grow it here, in the hydroponic facilities,” said Bok’kaan proudly.  “Our facilities are the largest and most advanced on the planet, due to the geothermal plant.  We provide a good 15% of Volparnu’s agricultural output.” He gestured at the taxidermic specimen, “My ancestors hunted those, but I don’t.”

Tara turned to Lugh.  “Most of the fauna is local – and damn nasty.  But the plant life is scarce and pretty indigestible, so produce and grains are grown in hermetically sealed facilities from Earth stock.”

“I’d be indigestible too, if I had to stick a root through this ice,” shivered Lugh.  “But hydroponics – that’s horrible.”

“Horrible?” said Bok’kaan.  “We are proud of our industry.”

“It’s like those old speculative fictions where you see the people growing in test tubes – except it’s really happening.  Those plants never had a chance at a natural life – never to feel the sun, or the rain, or the soil beneath their roots.  It’s a slaughterhouse.”

Niva looked at him quizzically.  “You’re strangely sensitive about such a trivial thing.”

“You do understand,” Tara cut in, before Lugh could respond, “that my husband is nau’gsh?  That he co-exists as human and plant?  His perspective is a little different than ours.”  She grasped his hand under the table for support.  She knew he was thinking about what had happened to Owen.

“But 15% of the planet’s agriculture,” said Ta’al Erich, who smiled and shook his head.  His eyes met Tara’s, and she understood.  If the city were lost to the volcano, there would be a shortage – and at a time when the climate could be altered enough to cause a dieback of the hunted animals.  There would be a famine for sure.

“His Highness Prince Owen has arrived,” announced one of Bok’kaan’s retainers.  Owen entered the dining hall, wrapped in an enormous fur coat, his skin still three shades of blue.

“Did you enjoy the warm spell?” said Niva playfully.

“Dolparessans are generally surprised at the climate,” said Bok’kaan.  “They’ve never experienced snow.”

“I did, when I was on Skarsia,” said Tara.  “I was still surprised at the climate.”

The retainer took Owen’s coat, and he sat at the table next to Lugh.  “Look,” he started, “we’ve really got to…”

“We’re having a very pleasant meal,” said Erich.  “Business can wait.”

Owen’s expression said no, it can’t, but Lugh shook his head.

“Would you like some javajuice with dessert?” asked Niva.

“Oh, you grow javamelons here?” asked Tara.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

 *****

“That exceeded expectations,” said Tara, joined in her quarters by Lugh, Owen and Erich.  “I thought we’d get sushi and gravy, or at best, fangdeer roast, which is pretty disgusting.  All the game animals here are tough and fatty.  Niva was a little dense about the nau’gsh, though.”

Ta’al Erich shrugged.  “When you say that Ashtara is a tree, or a moth, you might as well say that he is Santa Claus or Mithras.  The average Volparnian has never seen either.”

“I suppose that’s true,” said Tara.  It wasn’t something that had ever occurred to her.

“All those years you lived here, and you never even tried to understand us.  It would’ve helped you now.  You would have understood that the mentality that says the volcano is in the hands of the gods is an extension of the mentality that says the gods gave Volparnu to men as a chance to prove their heroism – and that the lying women of Skarsia wouldn’t have been able to survive it.”  At the last statement, Tara looked rather offended, but before she could speak, Erich turned to Owen.  “Speaking of the volcano, what did you find?”

“Can I get a drink first?  I need something to warm me up.  How can people live under these conditions?”

Tara handed him a whiskey, straight up, no ice.  “This is actually a very nice place, similar to the ski resorts on Skarsia.”

“Well, first off, as I’ve mentioned, I’m starting from nothing.  There are almost no real geological studies for this planet.  Unlike Skarsia, which has a low amount of geological activity and endless studies of painstaking scrutiny.”

“That’s because the Matriarchs encouraged scientific advancement on Skarsia,” said Tara.  “Here, on Volparnu, where learning to read is thought to be emasculating, research of any sort was considered a waste of time.”  She rose from the couch, placing her hand upon a stone wall.  “I used to mock them for it, but in the early days, too much time was needed to kill things to eat before they killed you.  For years, I’ve been trying to increase the level of education, but there’s resistance to it.”

“Of course there is,” said Erich.  “No one wants to send his son to Skarsia.”

“They don’t have the proper facilities here.  They don’t have the teachers.”

“Then build an academy,” said Erich.  “And teach practical things at first.  Geology is fine, poetry is out.”

“It’s an enormous undertaking,” Tara retorted.  “Your history vids are hopelessly corrupted.”  Volparnian history was the punchline of many a Skarsian joke.  The truth was that although the Matriarch’s library held many priceless original texts from Earth, for convenience, scholars had translated them into Galactic Standard.  Then, when literacy became a mark of effeminacy on Volparnu, the texts were recorded on holovids, but translated again into the current lingua, ancient Skarsian.  Years later, when the Skarsian tongue fell out of fashion, the latest holovids were translated again, back into Galactic Standard from the Skarsian versions.  In short, the contents were now virtually unrecognizable.

“Give us an access portal to the Matriarch’s library,” said Erich.  “You have them on Dolparessa and Sideria.  It’s not like anyone has to go to Skarsia and look at old books.”

“Why doesn’t Volparnu have access to the library?” asked Lugh.

Tara looked cross – and thoughtful.  “It’s a waste of resources,” she murmured.  “Volparnians don’t read.”

“Well, they won’t if there’s nothing for them to read,” said Lugh.

“The 4th and 5th Matriarchs had a stake in keeping their old rivals ignorant,” said Ta’al Erich.  “Isn’t that what you’ve said?”

“Right,” said Owen.  “Let’s talk about the literacy program later.  Because we’re sitting on an angry volcano, people.  My equipment says it’s going to blow.  My intuition says it’s going to blow.  Like it or not, we have to evacuate.”

“This city produces 15% of the planet’s agriculture,” said Lugh.  “Abandon it, and people will starve.  Can’t we just divert the lava?”

“Shit,” said Owen.  “The problem is that we don’t even know what kind of volcano it is.”

“There are kinds of volcanoes?” Erich said.

“There are 73 major types of volcano in the known worlds,” said Owen.  “To a certain extent, you can tell by the shape – but this one has been dormant for a while, and is covered with snow.  I need to take some core samples to see what kind of volcanic material it emits, and also its mineral composition.”

“Why does it matter?” asked Erich.  “Lava is lava.”

“It matters because if it’s just lava, we can divert it.  But looking at the basic outline of the mountain, I’d guess that it’s a Poindexter-strato-III, which means explosions and lots of gas.  Of course, that’s a generalization, since the geological activity of every planet is different.  But no one’s ever made a study of the types of volcano on Volparnu.  Mineral composition is a big clue, though.  It influences the viscosity of the lava.”

“How long will it take you to figure out?” asked Tara.

“How long will it take me to formulate decades of scientific research?  Let’s see…look, it’s just safer to evacuate.”

“But evacuation won’t help the collateral damage done to the rest of the planet,” said Lugh.

“Everybody is expecting me to do something magnificent and godlike,” said Owen.  “In this situation, I can’t.”

“Ailann could alter the composition of the gasses through alchemy,” mused Tara.  “So if we could divert the lava flow, we’d only have to deal with the ash.  But then, dealing with Ash is always the hard part.”

“Ow,” said Lugh.

 *****

Just after sunrise, Tara and Lugh decided to take a look for themselves.  They accompanied Owen to the ski lodge, where he set off on his own researches.  The building was perched on the edge of the caldera, looking down into the ice encrusted crater.  “Seems peaceful enough,” said Tara.

“Let’s go skiing,” said Lugh.

It was easier said than done.  As Dolparessa was bereft of snow, no Cu’enashti had ever attempted to ski.  “Maybe we should try the beginner slope,” said Tara.  “You’re going to break something vital.”

“I’ll get the hang of it,” Lugh replied.  “It’s almost fun.  Or it would be, without the snow.”

“You’d make a good ski instructor,” Tara commented.  “You’ve got the right look, blonde, rugged and handsome.  Also, Lugh is a good name for a ski instructor.  Maybe you should consider another career.”

“I’m an engineer.  This is research.”

“Owen is doing research.”

“I’m physically experiencing the mountain.”

“Your butt is physically experiencing the mountain.  Maybe we should just get a cup of cocoa.”

They returned to the lodge.  “Hot chocumber juice,” said Tara, glancing at the menu.  “This place is progressive.”

“Now what?”

Tara plopped herself in a boisterously upholstered chair positioned directly in front of the fireplace.  “We get warm,” she said.  “Half the point of getting cold is getting warm again.”  She grabbed a datapad from a side table.  “Also, you can flirt with the locals.  I’m going to catch up on the latest issue of Xenobotany Today.”

“I don’t flirt.  You must have me mixed up with Wynne.”

“You could try it.  Might make Owen jealous.”

“Tara!  That’s so mean.  You know my heart belongs to Owen.  And you.  I wish I had two hearts, so I could give one of them to each of you.”

“Why not?” she said, looking up from the datapad momentarily.  “You know, that’s actually an interesting question.  You emanate in human form, but you can make some permanent alterations – Tommy’s tattoo, or Callum’s body mods, for example.  And Lucius can do that weird thing with the bubbles.  So why couldn’t you arrange to have two hearts?”

“I meant metaphorically,” said Lugh.

“But really, it’s an interesting experiment…”

Suddenly, the cabin was rocked by the force of a blast.  In an instant, half a dozen formerly incognito SSOps agents were on their feet, weapons drawn.

“Stand down,” said Tara.  “I expect that’s the volcano having a little heartburn.”

“No, Your Eminence,” said one of the agents.  “I’m getting a report of terrorist activity in the city.”

“What?” said Tara.  “Who would attack this peaceful place?”

As she spoke, the SSOps agents directed the visible honor guard to secure the entrances to the lodge.  “Let’s search,” said the leader.  “Frisk everyone – present company excluded.”

“So much for flirting,” said Tara.

“The attack was on the Snowbird Hotel.  Apparently, Bok’kaan put out a story that you were staying there.  Ta’al Erich has been escorted back to Bok’kaan’s manor.”

“Maybe I’m supposed to be staying there, but I’m obviously not there now,” said Tara.  “Why would they assume I would be?”

“It’s ten,” said Lugh.  “When do you get out of bed before eleven?”

“True enough,” she replied.  “Have there been arrests?”

The agent nodded.  “It’s a group called the Brotherhood of Ice – a Volparnian home-rule group.”

“They have home rule,” said Tara dismissively.  “Tenzain Merkht.”

“Apparently, they think Merkht is a puppet ruler.  The Matriarch’s lap dog.”

“Lap dog?  Lobotomized bull mastiff is more like it.”

“We’re getting a hovercar up here, Eminence.  We need to get to a more secure location, and we don’t trust the airtrams.”

“Fair enough.  We should contact Owen.  He might be a target, too.”

 *****

“No luck,” said the SSOps commander.  “He won’t come off the mountain.  Said he’s taking core samples.”

Tara and Lugh had reunited with Ta’al Erich at Bok’kaan’s manor, which was now swarming with SSOps agents and the local police.  To Tara, it seemed as if most of them were hard at work undercutting each other’s authority.

“You knew this was coming,” said Tara to Erich.

“The political situation is complicated – more complicated than we might suspect.  You should be aware that it has become increasingly difficult for Merkht to maintain order.  He has never been respected since his divorce and his failure to produce an heir, and you are widely regarded as the force which emasculated him.”

“Well, the emasculation part is right…but he did produce an heir.”

Erich frowned.  “The general public is unaware that my second son is Merkht’s – and I do not intend to call for a genetic test.  Were the truth revealed, I would be forced to engage in a dual with my brother, most unprofitable for both of us as I would almost certainly be killed, and then my line would fall out of the succession, leaving no heir at all.  As it stands, Merkht plays at being Tenzain while I control the real power, and the succession will eventually fall to my eldest son.  Why should I care that he’s put an egg into my well-feathered nest?”

“Very astute planning,” she said, glancing at Lugh with an expression that clearly added any wonder why I married Patrick instead of this creep?

“My fear was simply this: the resistance to an evacuation would exceed the residents’ natural reluctance to leave the most hospitable and profitable city on Volparnu to become a resistance to comply with the much-resented Matriarch to end in an out-and-out paranoia that the Matriarch was trying to sabotage their economy.  A not-unreasonable suspicion, given the behavior of the 5th Matriarch.  Everybody remembers Hindirben.”

“Uh, I don’t,” said Lugh.

“The Conclave of Hindirben,” Tara replied.  “They rebelled.  The 5th Matriarch cut power.  They froze.”

“Which is yet another point,” said Erich.  “The reason that content and prosperous Ventosty is also a seething foment of rebellion…”

“…is that they can live without the power grid.  Just like Dolparessa was the ideal spot to stage a rebellion against the 5th Matriarch,” said Tara.  “That’s the deal, isn’t it?  They don’t believe that the volcano will erupt because they think my real motivation is to drive them off their power source.”

“It’s gone beyond that,” says Erich.  “The bombing today wasn’t a serious attempt.  They were trying to spook us – to hinder anything we could possibly do to stop the volcano.”

“That makes no sense at all.  On the off-chance that the volcano is real, why not let us deal with it?”

“Because Archonism has gotten a strong foothold, and they desperately want the Archon to fail – even at the cost of the 5,493,241 people who live here.”

“Another thing that makes no sense,” said Lugh, “why are you helping us?”

“Because there’s absolutely no profit in it for him if his brother is deposed,” said Tara.  “Unless he’s at the head of the rebel faction, but that’s not his style.  Too messy.”

“I admit, I’d rather rule from behind the throne.  For as we’ve seen today, being the figurehead leads to occasionally unpleasant exposures to danger.  However, I am wounded that you failed to mention the people of Ventosty.  Death and destruction of property on a massive scale are also rather messy.”

 *****

Owen returned after dusk.  Tara suspected that he had deliberately tried to avoid the reception, which had been a suffocating nightmare of security guards and Volparnian aristos.  Lugh was always much better at handling social situations.

“Here’s the story.  We can blast a series of small holes into the far side of the mountain.  The hope is that the lava will vent off into a different direction, eventually hitting the ocean.  When it does, it will be quite explosive, so we’ll have to keep any fishing vessels away from that area of the coast.  And as you said, if we get noxious gas, Ailann could deal with it.  But there’s nothing we can do about the tephra.  I’ve already explained why a force bubble won’t work.”

“How about Davy?”

“What?”

“Can’t Davy create some kind of volcano-busting device?”

“Davy doesn’t do geophysical.  Ailann made Eden – Davy just covered it with life.  Davy’s job is a lot harder, but he doesn’t know anything about making planets.”

“What do other planets do when this happens?”

“I hate to say this, but most of the civilized galaxy operates under certain urban planning codes.  Geothermal power stations are built on the sides of volcanoes.  Cities are not.  The only planet stupid enough to have cities on the edge of volcanoes – other than Volparnu, that is – is Earth.”

“Well, what do they do about it on Earth?”

“I don’t have access to that information.”

“I’ll message Abbott Deverre.  He’s got connections.  In the meantime, I think the two of you should take advantage of me – that is, of the situation.”

 *****

Tara woke up to an empty bed.  It surprised her – she knew that Owen wanted another early start, but she was surprised to see Lugh go with him, especially under the circumstances.

The guest suite had an attached bath.  She decided to take a quick shower and see if she could talk Bok’kaan into showing her the hot springs.  She wasn’t going to let a few bombs cage her for the rest of her visit.  It wouldn’t do to appear that she was frightened.

There was a strange man in the bathroom, staring at his reflection.  She jumped back a good meter.  “Oh hello,” he said.  “I’m Marius.  I was just checking myself out.  Not too shabby, do you think?”

“Ash,” she said.  “Well, it has been almost two years since I had a new husband.”

“The Mover thought it was getting a bit risky for a double-emanation.  Besides, neither Owen nor Lugh really knows how to deal with a political situation like this.”

“I take it that you do.”

“I’m grown from tough stock, baby.  Cillian and Mickey.”

“Holy shit.”  She did see the resemblance.  He was more handsome than Cillian, but his body was more compact and muscular than Mickey.  Mickey was built with the thin grace of a martial artist, but Marius looked like he’d be better at boxing.

“Also, I can take the cold.  I even know how to ski.”

“That’s convenient.”

“Get yourself ready.  We should get out of here as soon as possible.”

“I was hoping for a day at the hot springs.”

“We need to get away to someplace we can think.  Away from the guards, away from the potential hostiles, away from Bok’kaan and Erich, because neither one is free of suspicion.  I’m thinking the safest place is on the far side of the volcano.”

“I’m thinking that logic should worry me.”

“There’s something going on here – Erich’s not telling you, or maybe he doesn’t know – but I’m not comfortable letting him be your only advisor.  Owen can sense when the volcano’s going to erupt, but he can’t sense when the political situation will.  The volcano will be at least another few days.  The politics could happen before you know it.”

“I’ll call for a hovercar.”

 *****

Tara stood on the rim of the caldera.  It was a magnificent view.  On the far side, she could see the bustling ski lodge.  She turned in the other direction, looking at the long slope down into the frosty sea.  “It’s lovely,” she said.  “And quiet.  Are you sure…”

A slight tremor ran under her foot.

“Don’t worry.  It’s safe.  But this has been happening all week.  It will just get worse.”

“Can’t we just drop a bomb in the crater or something?”

Marius scratched his head.  “I’m no engineer, but I can’t see really how that would work.”

“Sacrifice a virgin?”

“Hey, I’m a virgin.  But you forgot your ancient tourist ceremonial dagger.”

“Well, I’m sure we could sacrifice your virginity, but maybe someplace warmer.  So why are we here?”

“Tara, that bombing was all wrong.  Yeah, Bok’kaan gave out false information – but don’t you think if they were smart enough to bomb a hotel room, they’d be smart enough to observe it?  Holy compost, the last time you were in a hotel, you ended up a porn star.”

“That will never happen again.  Now I have PLOT/Twist search the rooms for microcams.  The official story is that the actors in Bubble Fun are impersonators.”

“When Lucius got aroused, all the bubbles in the tub started to glow.”

“Special effects.  A director’s wild imaginings.”

“Be that as it may, the hotel blast was ham-handed – and, surprisingly, no casualties, and very little damage other than to your empty suite.”

“Erich said it was a distraction, or maybe a warning.”

“Worth getting arrested and interrogated by SSOps?  Some of those old thugs are nothing to make light of.  No, something is missing.”

“You think about it.  I’ll check my messages and see if Johannon has found out anything about volcano prevention on Earth.”

Tara had a message – from Ta’al Erich.  The holo flickered into view.  “Help!” he said.  “We were totally wrong about…”  The image faded.

Tara sat in the snow.  “Nice volcano,” she said.  “Nice, safe volcano.”

“Wrong about what?” said Marius.

“You were right.  This is the last place they’d look.  They figured we’d be back at Bok’kaan’s manor – and Erich was.”

“It’s possible they were setting us up to be trapped there.  In which case Bok’kaan is in on it.  But I haven’t ruled out Ta’al Erich.  Maybe they discovered we’re gone, and he’s bait to bring us back.”

Tara’s pad registered an emergency message.  It was the SSOps commander.  “Your Eminence, where are you?”

“Safe,” she answered.  “I’m not broadcasting where, but you can trace it.  What’s going on?”

“Rebels have taken over the city hall.  Bok’kaan is dead, and they’re holding Ta’al Erich hostage.  They’re demanding the immediate abdication of Tenzain Merkht.”

“I guess Bok’kaan and Erich are no longer under suspicion,” said Marius.

“Do you want to see the transmission, Your Eminence?”

“Please.”

The holographic image changed.  It was Niva.

“People of Volparnu.  Our demands are immediate and irrevocable.  The abdication of Tenzain Merkht, and the appointment of a new government, independent of the Skarsian Matriarchy, the formation and constitution of which to be supervised by the Brotherhood of Ice.  The Archon cannot stop this.  The Archon is helpless.  He is here, and tells us to run from our homes.  If indeed the story of a volcanic eruption is not some fairy-tale meant to delude us, if he is truly a god, he would save us.

You may ask how a woman dares to say these things.  I say when the heroes cannot be heroes, then a woman must fight.  Bok’kaan is dead.  Some remember that Bok’kaan was my second husband, a political alliance arranged by my uncle.  My first husband was a match of love.  Ta’al Msl’mka – he was a man!  He died at Hindirben.  If there is a hero who is man enough to avenge him, to avenge all the fallen heroes of Hindirben, then he can take me!  If not, I will avenge my heroic husband myself.  One way or another, I will purge this world of Archon and Matriarch and the gelded dogs who pretend to rule us while serving them.”

“This shit always comes back to haunt us,” said Tara.  “Hindirben wasn’t even my fault.”

“Do you think Merkht will surrender?”

“Nah.  Erich’s the rational one.  Merkht’s pride is smarting something fierce right about now, and he’s going to bring the whole of his army into this place and smash it so smithereens. If Erich dies, oh well, he’s a heroic martyr.  If the tourist industry and the hydroponic facilities go too, oh well.  Merkht’s not too smart.  In fact, if the whole army gets buried under a volcano…”

“I get the point.  How long before his troops get here?”

“He might start bombing today.  Otherwise, maybe a week.  It’ll be a race to destruction between him and the volcano.  Maybe we should just find a way out of here, and claim that we couldn’t do anything about the situation due to the internal conflict.”

Marius shook his head.  “First, we’ll be seen as running away.  The damage to the Archonate will have been done.  Second, how would we leave?  The rebels are between us and the spaceport.”

“You could leave,” said Tara.  “Ride the power grid.”

“That isn’t even worth a response.  A better plan might be for me to sneak down there and kill the rebels. It doesn’t take much energy to block a vital artery.”

“Could you do that?  Could you kill them?”

“I don’t know.  Cillian can kill.”

“Cillian eradicated the Microbials.  But as far as I know, he’s never actually killed a human.”

“He doesn’t talk about it,” said Marius, “but he’s been intentionally trying to avoid it.”

Tara took Marius’ hand.  “It doesn’t come naturally to a nau’gsh.”

“I honestly don’t believe it comes naturally to a human.  But I’ll do what I have to do to protect you.”

“Well, I think what we have to do now is find some shelter before we freeze to death.  I don’t think the lodge is going to be an option, not just yet.  Pity that…I could use a mug of hot chocumber.”

Marius scanned the area.  “Down there,” he said, pointing.  “See the steam?  The ice is melting.”

“Your idea of finding shelter is inside of the volcano.”

“It’ll be warm there.  And, like you said, it’s the last place anyone will look for us, right?”

 *****

Tara and Marius sat near the vent, eating a dough-not-nut while watching the steam rise into the perfectly ice-blue sky.  “Javamelon starch is amazingly easy to make out of anything,” said Marius, “even snow.”

“The weather is nice,” said Tara.  “I suppose there must be a reason this is called Mount Stormbringer.  I think what we need right now is a nice blizzard.  It would top off this whole wonderful experience.  I’m being sarcastic, if you couldn’t tell.”  Tara pushed closer to Marius.  “I don’t intend to die on Volparnu, Marius.”

“I don’t intend to die a virgin.  Did you get a message from Deverre yet?”

Tara scanned her pad.  “Here it is.  He says that on Terra, they use what they call volcano condoms.  Every active volcano of the composite and cinder varieties has one.  It’s a generator ring fitted around the crater.  They project a force-bubble over the top of the volcano, and then inside of that, an antimatter field.  As the tephra hits the antimatter field, it reacts, producing an enormous amount of energy fed back into the generator.  It makes the volcano not only safe, but also an efficient power-source.”

“That’s pretty good,” said Marius.  “How long would it take to build one?”

“I would guess that Cüinn and Barnabas could engineer it, but not within a week.  But we’re in luck – the new president of CenGov is willing to give us one, and given where they would have to emerge from the wormhole, it could be here in about ten Galactic Standard days, which might be good enough…or not.  But there’s a price…he wants trading visas to be issued to Cybrids for the entire Domha’vei.”

“Call the Floatfish,” said Marius.  “Call Bllllllllllllllllllllrrrrrrrrrrrmm.  He won’t want to give up his exclusive trading advantage so easily.  I’ll bet that he comes up with something.”

It was night when Bllllllllllllllllllllrrrrrrrrrrrmm responded.  Marius and Tara were huddled closely together for warmth.  Steam was rising.

“I can do something,” said Bllllllllllllllllllllrrrrrrrrrrrmm.  “It’s surprising you didn’t think of it in the first place.  Or maybe not.  But you can’t tell anyone about it.  Any humans, that is.”

 *****

The next morning, Tara and Marius marched into the ski lodge and were met by a handful of frightened tourists – the airtram had been cut off since the crisis started – and a small army of SSOps agents that Tara had contacted.  “We’re making this our base,” she said.

“It isn’t secure,” said the commander.  “While the mountain peak is a good strategic vantage point, it’s also susceptible to aerial bombardment, and it’s easy to get surveillance drones in.  It would be better to go back into the city.  The police have secured districts 5-14.”

“I don’t care about surveillance,” said Tara.  “I don’t plan to take a bath.  As for the rest, they’re welcome to overhear – they’re welcome to broadcast it.  I’m going to broadcast it myself.  Get me an open channel.  Actually – better still – get me Bobert Crandon.  Tell him that the Archon is about to perform another miracle.”

 *****

It became a waiting game.  But Marius had something else he had to do.  He had to rescue Ta’al Erich before Merkht poured into the city with his hordes and screwed up the whole deal.

“The Mover could fly down there, but that would really announce my presence,” said Marius.  “And a hovercar is easily detected. I’ll go on ski.”

“You’re sure about this?” asked Tara, remembering that Lugh had gone down the mountain mostly on his buttocks.

Marius saluted her, and pushed off smartly.  He whizzed down the slope like an expert.  “How does Ash manage that shit?” she asked.  It seemed to her that each emanation had clear limits – but there was no limit on the kind of emanation Ashtara could create.

Marius ditched his skis at the foot of the mountain and sprinted to the city gates.  He took a few lungfuls of clean, crisp air.  There was so little scent pollution of any sort on Volparnu – no industry, sparse indigenous plant and animal life.  All the walls were made of the same sort of stone – a mineral formed from the output of the volcano.  There was nothing to mask the smell of the human habitations.

It took surprisingly little time to find Erich.  He was wearing a cologne he had purchased on Eirelantra – one with a particular resin imported from the IndWorlds.  In the entire city, only two other people were wearing that scent-component, a pair of sisters, probably tourists, far away from the government district.

It appeared that Erich had been moved from the highman’s estate to the city hall.  The whole block was swarming with rebels.  It was surprising to see so many of them in such a placid city.  Perhaps all the malcontents of the planet had gathered in one spot.

As Marius approached the building, Tara made her announcement, broadcast by VegaVids, displayed on a large number of the city’s public media terminals.  “As you may have heard, the city of Ventosty on Volparnu is under siege by some misguided rebels.  First, contrary to rumors, the Archon and I are perfectly safe.  We have spent the past several days studying the pattern of volcanic activity beneath Mount Stormbringer.  I am pleased to report that the Archon has devised a solution.  The eruption of Mount Stormbringer will be neutralized.  We expect this to happen within the next five to ten days.  If before that time, anyone associated with this unlawful rebellion turns themselves in, they will be granted amnesty.  After the Archon’s miracle, they will be hunted down and treated with the full force of law.  We ask the cooperation of the local military forces in not exacerbating the situation.  Furthermore, I will address the Hindirben incident.  The Conclave of Hindirben was clearly engaged in an unlawful rebellion.  The 5th Matriarch responded to it with her accustomed severity.  However, I am cognizant that many non-combatants became casualties when the stronghold was destroyed.  I am prepared to institute a restitution process for the families of Hindirben’s slain.  I will not, however, tolerate further civic disruption to this end.  I repeat: surrender now, and you will be met with leniency.”

Marius had no idea whether anyone would surrender.  Probably not.  The ones who believed in the power of the Archon weren’t the ones who were in rebellion.  Whether they did or not, the sticking point was Merkht.  He’d never stand down while his brother was held captive – it was a matter of family honor.  Even if Erich were freed, Merkht might still attack.  His wounded testosterone was crying to assert itself.

No, the entire thing was to exonerate Tara from blame for the massive violence sure to follow – and to set the stage for the Archon to perform the most amazing disappearing act since Houdini IX.

In the meantime, Marius pulled some crampons out of his pack – yes, he was also proficient at mountaineering – and drove them into the hard stone of the building.  He had only to avoid being noticed by the patrols – the Heroes of Volparnu firmly believed that security cameras were for cowards.

As he ascended the building, he was shaken by several solid bumps from the ground.  He clutched his handholds firmly.  “Getting closer,” he murmured.  How much more would it take to convince everyone that the seismic activity was not propaganda?

Ta’al Erich was on the third floor of the building.  He was tied firmly to a chair, and he did not look comfortable.  Niva was in the room with him, alone.

“We should just marry,” said Erich.

“How dare you insult me in this way!” Niva yelled.

“Oh, come my dear, any woman brazen enough to allow herself to be left alone with a man, even if his hands are tied, should not be so shocked.  It’s simply a matter of politics.”

“You have a wife.”

“She’s a fool.  A convenience, like your second marriage.  I’m prepared to disavow her.”

Niva paced the length of the room.  Her movements were brittle; she opened and closed her fingers several times, staring at the cuticles.  She hated Erich, Marius could smell it.  She despised him, and yet, she was curious.  “It’s that easy for you?”

“I have reasons,” Erich said in a honeyed voice.  “As long as Merkht is deposed.”  Then Erich hadn’t forgiven his wife’s infidelity.  He was biding his time.  But Marius suspected that Erich didn’t expect an affirmative reply from Niva any more than he had from Tara.  It was his way of taking an enemy female off guard.

“My brother will be here soon,” said Erich, softly.  “You plan on killing me then, don’t you?  Why not just do it now?  That ceremonial blade you’re wearing…it was your husband’s, wasn’t it?  Your first husband, that is.  I admired his heroism.  A monument should be raised in his honor.”

“You don’t fool me.  I know you were on your way to Hindirben, to talk him down, when the 5th Matriarch cut power.  She had more balls than you do.  I will never allow myself to be married to another coward,” said Niva, scowling.

“Then why not kill me now?  Allow me to die in a vision of blinding beauty.”

The corner of Niva’s mouth quivered.  There was something about this…something familiar.  Absurdly, it reminded Marius of Tara’s first confrontation with Suibhne.  And then Marius, armed with Cillian’s vast knowledge of litcrit, understood.  Ta’al Erich has read Richard III.

Marius smashed his fist through the window.  Niva whirled, drawing her sword, but Marius was faster, grabbing a potted plant off the table and smashing it over her head.  As the stunned woman collapsed, he transformed the fibers of the synthhemp rope binding Erich to dust.  “Come on,” he said, “and if you ever make trouble for Tara again, I’ll tell everyone that a Ta’al of Volparnu has a secret Shakespeare fetish.”

 *****

“It’s actually quite logical,” Erich explained as they reached the safety of District 12.  “Shakespeare contains a wealth of political and military strategy.  I’ve also read Sun Tzu.  I think such things are a profitable part of a man’s education.”

“Yeah, yeah, so you say.  I’ll just bet that you read Romeo and Juliet, too.”

“A valuable treatise on the pointlessness of interfamilial vendettas.”

“Speaking of which, you had better contact your brother and tell him to call off the frostbeasts.  Hopefully, some of the rebels will surrender after that.”

“So the Archon has planned a miracle.  Care to let me in on the secret?”

“Nope.  You’ll just have to wait and see like everyone else.”

 *****

Six days later, the afternoon was shattered by a deafening explosion.  Windows cracked, buildings shook, plates fell from counters.  As the shockwave faded, the sound gave way to the roaring of steam and the crackling of ash.  Tara, now returned to the late highman’s residence, peered at the mountaintop through binoculars.  The ground beneath the evacuated ski lodge crumbled, sending it plunging into the now spuming caldera.

“Thar she blows,” said Tara.  “Now let’s just hope that Bllllllllllllllllllllrrrrrrrrrrrmm wasn’t blowing smoke through his gills.”

A fiery cloud of ash and cinders bloomed upwards from the mountain.  It hit a height of around 50 meters and then vanished.  Meanwhile, in a remote and empty spot of Barnard’s Galaxy, an enormous vent of gas and tephra spewed into the unfathomable cold of space.

“Teleportation technology,” Tara murmured.  “Gotta get me some of that shit.”