House of Haddaway

Crowns and Worlds, Volume 1

A Fairy Retold Collection

Parker J. Cole

COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

Copyright © 2019 Parker J. Cole

Cover Art by Josephine Blake of Covers and Cupcakes

https://coversandcupcakes.wordpress.com/

All rights reserved.

First Edition: February 2019

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Death wasn’t looking forward to his wedding night at all.

Oiled and clad in a white silk robe and matching pants, he stood in front of the window of the honeymoon suite prepared for himself and Lee Glow. The moonlight of Earth was more vibrant than the collective radiance of all three moons on Preyida. Its harsh, diamond-like luminosity pierced his eyes.

A resident of Earth for three months, he’d yet to grow accustomed to the brilliance of colors. However, he had pledged his heart to a woman he barely knew. He needed to get used to it.

He’d better get used to it.

The spacious suite, with its accoutrements of silk and satin, and a canopied bed acting as the focal point of the room, managed to evoke a sense of confinement. The walls seemed to draw in, as if to prevent him from escaping.

If he could run out of this room right now and never look back, he would.

The bright wooden floors creaked under his bare feet as he pivoted away from the snowy night scene of the city in continuous celebration. Along with his marital vows to Lee Glow, which had taken place hours earlier, it was also the first day of the new year for this planet.

Everyone in the Milky Way Planetary Alliance knew that no one partied like Earthlings. These people would stay up till all hours of the night and still have energy to burn.

Death marched to the other end of the room, which was untouched by the moonlight. Here, his wound-up nerves eased in the comforting darkness he preferred.

Lee Glow’s arrival to their quarters for their marital consummation was an hour overdue. Perhaps she sought escape from this marriage? He could hardly blame her. If he could have done anything other than marry this woman he would have. By marrying her, he deceived her, but there was no other choice.

What if she found out?

Acerbic bile coated the back of his throat. The thought of discovery wrenched the breath from his lungs. He slumped against the wall. If Lee Glow got a hint of the deceit he placed her in, the alliance with Earth would crumble. Preyida needed this treaty with Earth. Without it, his world...

A thread of hysteria lined the muscles quivering in his stomach. Swallowing the bitterness which sheathed his tongue, he clenched his fist and tried to rein it in.

A sudden, putrid stench pervaded the darkness. It intensified until Death covered his nose with his hand. Before he could speak, he heard the words, “Lord Haddaway.”

Death straightened up from the wall and glanced around for the source of the slight nasal voice. “Where are you?”

The surrounding darkness moved in a strange way. Twice, it expanded and collapsed on itself like the opening and closing of a portal. The third time, a form coalesced. It stood four feet high in Earth measurements. Edged by an aura of frutyrea, a radiation only Preyidans could detect with the natural eye, the main bulk of the figure was shadow.

“I am here, sire.” The frutyrea-lined figure knelt before him.

Death coughed. “I can tell. Your scent precedes you.” Why did this creature smell so awful? “I expected you three days ago.”

“I was detained, sire. But I did receive your message and came as soon as I could.”

“Then you understand the situation?” Their prior meeting had been a rushed affair with the Jat’oakin merchant and space train conductor, Ti’luku P’hita, in attendance to present introductions.

“Yes, my lord.”

Death waited for the creature to continue. When silence reigned for long seconds, he huffed. “Well, what do you have for me?”

“May I rise, sire?”

Flustered at his lack of etiquette, Death gave the directive. “Rise and address me.” He would have ended the command with the creature’s name had he known it but he didn’t. Not that it mattered.

The creature stood again. “Thank you, Lord Haddaway. I must respect Preyidan protocol even though Earth lacks such formalities.”

“Yes, yes,” Death waved away the sentiment with an impatient hand. “What do you have for me?”

“According to the message I received from Conductor P’hita, Earth will expect you to somehow use your Preyidan resources to turn useless rocks into raw gold.”

“Correct. The Htarians did no one any favors when they stole ninety-five percent of Earth’s gold.”

“There are no more Htarians, either,” the creature remarked in a quiet manner.

Death nodded once. Earth had gone cataclysmic in its retaliation. Earth’s former ruler, John Turner, had ordered an attack on Htara and practically destroyed the planet.

The Htarians weren’t missed, however. The planet had been home to serial killers, murderers, and the degenerate cesspool of the galaxy. Not a single member of the Alliance gave token criticism of the extinction of the race.

“Why did you promise this feat knowing Preyidan resources were incapable of such an act?”

“Does it matter why?” Death blustered in an offended tone, reluctant to let this unknown creature in on his secret. “All I require is that you have the capability to do as I have asked. Can you turn rocks into gold?”

Death’s gaze followed the frutyrea-outlined creature as it wandered over to the other side of the honeymoon suite. The closer it moved to the light, it shed its darkness like molting skin. When the silver beams of moonlight alighted on his visitor, his eyebrow arched.

The creature had concealed itself in a fitted beige-colored body armor. A white, oval-shaped facial plate with a thick, dark seam which ran lengthwise down the center of the mask, obscured its face.

“Anonymity must suit you since your scent gives you away,” Death blurted out. Then he sighed. Why had he insulted the one being in the galaxy who could help him out of his predicament?

“Yes, it does, sire. Tell me, what will you give me in exchange for performing this service?”

Death tensed, although relieved to get to the crux of the matter. Earth had a famous saying. “Nothing is free.” It had once been a concept alien to Preyida but over time as relations between the two worlds developed, it became well known.

Shoulders back, he cleared his throat. “What do you desire?” Transformation of rocks into gold was no small accomplishment. Payment for such service would be exorbitant. Yet, no price was too high to pay in order to save his world.

“An inch of ginyeater.”

An involuntary jolt went through him. “What did you say?”

“I believe you heard me, Lord Haddaway.”

Death’s ginyeater, the crisscross strips of puckered yellow flesh on his back, pimpled in alarm.

“Why do you want an inch of ginyeater?”

“Does it matter why?” The creature countered with Death’s own words. “In order for me to turn rocks into gold, that is the payment I require.”

The muted sounds of celebration filled the ensuing silence. A Preyidan’s ginyeater was a genetic indicator of a male child. Preyidan females had no such feature. In times past, the ginyeater was thought to be related to magical powers and other mystical elements. Preyidan scholars had long made concrete evidence it was nothing of the sort.

“You have been quiet for a long time, sire,” the creature commented. “Will you accept my payment requirements?”

Death spread out his fingers and studied the long digits. “There must be something of more value I can give you.”

“Who is to say your ginyeater is not valuable to me?”

The creature tilted its head. The facial plate with the heavy line bisecting it appeared to project an expression. Impossible, because there were no facial characteristics to read. Yet, in a perplexing manner, Death detected the creature’s amusement. Was this small, rank thing trying to make a fool out of him?

Did it matter if he did?

“Why is the equivalent of a human fingernail of benefit to you?”

Death knew if he cut off an inch of his ginyeater, it would grow back in a matter of days.

“It is my price for the gold. Do you agree to this exchange, sire?”

A warning gong went off in his head. If he decided to give this strange creature what he asked for, how could he be certain it would perform the task?

“On one condition.”

“And what is the condition?”

Death strode over to where the creature stood. He squinted a little at the harsh moonlight but fixed his gaze on the upraised facial plate. “I would have you create the gold first. Once I have the gold aboard the train and it arrives here on Earth, then I will give you an inch of ginyeater.”

A peculiar stillness draped the small creature. “Are these the terms of the agreement you wish to have?”

Death nodded. “They are.”

“Very well, sire. Once the gold arrives on Earth, you will grant me an inch of ginyeater.”

“That is so. A Preyidan’s word is good.”

“Perhaps. I would hate to think you were trying to feed me a plate of rock flesh.”

Death’s jaw ticked. A mere ten years ago he would have taken offense to the doubt heavy in the creature’s voice. Preyida, of all the members of the Alliance besides Earth, had rigorous standards of morality and a deep-seated need to maintain such ethics.

All that had changed. Was morality of more importance than survival? That’s what this whole marriage was about. Trying to keep his people alive.

“You have my word,” he stated in an emphatic voice.

The door to the honeymoon suite burst open, the sound reverberating like the blast of a bomb. Flashes of cameras from rabid reporters from all over the Alliance broke up the darkness. Eager voices shouted out a chaotic barrage of questions. His wife’s security contingent blocked the doorway to keep the reporters from falling into their chambers.

In the blink of an eye, the creature disappeared from sight, leaving no trace of the frutyrea only Death could detect.

“Go away!” Lee Glow’s husky voice demanded. She slammed the door in their faces and locked it behind her.

Although glad for the darkness once more, his heart hammered in his chest. Tonight, for the first time in his life, he would love dance with a female. Not just any female but an alien woman from another world. A woman who had the power to destroy his planet if she chose to reject him.

Lee Glow glided toward him until she stood in the rays of the moonlight.

Death studied the woman whose husband he had become. As far as beauty went, Earth and Preyida shared almost identical ideas about it. Lee Glow’s pale skin contrasted with the dark curly hair that brushed her shoulders. Those dark eyes fringed with thick lashes lifted at the corners, bestowing an exotic look even by Preyidan thought.

A sheer, sleeveless white gown flowed about her slim, floral scented figure. Her loveliness drew his eye. Would he find her creyatura desirable? The men of his world found this aspect of a Preyidan’s female’s anatomy attractive. Would his alien wife’s be the same?

Tonight, he would find out.

“So,” Lee Glow halted before him, “at last I shall sleep with Death.”

Glow had prepared for every moment of her impending marriage except for the most intimate part. The time when she’d fall into Death’s embrace for the sake of her world. She stole a glance at the canopied bed. The diaphanous pink curtains hid the interior soon to be occupied by both herself and her husband.

The gold and ruby wedding necklace draped her throat. She likened it to the link of chains. Never had the desire to shirk her obligations attacked with such fierceness. Could she submit to this man, this alien being, she barely knew?

“You took some time to arrive, Lee Glow.” Death spoke in a deep voice. “I wondered if you wished to end the agreement.”

You’re lucky I came at all. Jutta Drewes had to almost drag her out of the morning suite which had been set aside for Glow to ready herself for tonight. “You don’t keep Death waiting,” Jutta had admonished with a blink of her bright blue eyes. “Not on your wedding night.”

Glow licked her lips, tasting the residue of the single glass of honey wine she’d imbibed on in an attempt to calm her nerves. Jutta had snatched the drink away from her, too.  “Nor do you go to your husband, slurring like a common drunk. What male, alien or human, wants an inebriated wife on his wedding night?”

Inhaling a deep breath, Glow answered, “I’d thought about it, yes. But I know my duty.”

“I appreciate your candor. Duty,” Death scoffed. “The shackles of every ruler since the beginning of time.”

The winter moonlight traced its delicate fingers over her alien spouse. Human-looking at first glance. He stood over seven feet tall to her generous six-foot frame. His white night attire accentuated his dark skin. The smooth bald head contrasted with the dark facial hair lining his jaw. He could have been any human male on her planet.

Except for the eyes. The eyes glittered like twinkling stars in a real sense, not allegorical. Preyidan biology contained a form of bioluminescence within their DNA which caused the eyes to showcase this unique trademark.

Scientists on both worlds believed this aspect of their genetic makeup permitted Preyidans the ability to see frutyrea, the radiation her people were very much interested in.

It took a moment to get used to the way the Preyidan’s eyes sparkled. But Earthlings were good at adapting. In the tradition of her people, she would adapt to her role as the sacrificial offering on the altar of power and progress.

“If the Htarians hadn’t stolen our gold—”

“Let’s not speculate, Lee Glow,” Death interrupted. “We’re here and that is all that matters.”

Glow frowned as a sudden thought intruded. “Are you ready to do this?”

Her husband raised an eyebrow. “Love dance, you mean?”

Despite her self-imposed insistence she refrain from embarrassment, her cheeks burned. Her wedding to the Preyidan ruler had been the social event of the galaxy. Formal invitations had been sent to planetary heads of state three years prior in order for them to book passage on the dark matter strand railways Earth had plotted.

Her planet bulged with tourism as otherworlders arrived to take part in the festivities. The economy received such a boost that poverty became a matter of choice, not circumstance.

Now that the ceremony was over, their consummation was the most anticipated coupling within the Alliance. Once this union conceived a child the interest in this interracial marriage would wane. She had to bank on the resources Preyida promised they could accomplish in order to safeguard Earth’s position as leader of the Alliance.

Making love to Death Haddaway – surely it was a small price to pay in order to stay ahead of the game?

Jutta’s voice echoed in her mind. “He’s more human-like than any of the other races in the Alliance. You could do worse.”

Was it true? Could she do worse? Or was Jutta simply trying to see the best in any situation as Ag’osians were wont to do?

Glow’s gaze slid along the moonlit frame of her husband. Deep set, thick-lashed eyes, a broad flaring nose, and full lips worked together to create a face most women in the galaxy would find attractive.

Her eyes slid down to his open robe. Minute coils of hair spread across the center of his chest. The trail of hair continued down an abdomen sculpted with two columns of muscle.  The navel, more of a slit than an oval, rested above his lean waist and hips.

Even by Earth standards, her husband had more than his share of good looks.

Jutta was right. She could have done worse.

“If you have no wish to love dance tonight, I will—”

“No,” Glow interjected, although part of her longed to take up his offer. “My forced virginity ends tonight. How fitting it should be on New Year’s Day.”

“Ah. Your reproductive consultants recommended—”

Her chin dipped down. “Yes, they did.”

Glow hated this timidity about her state of sexual experience. John Turner had selected her to be the next ruler and the future wife of a Preyidan male. Her isolated life from the rest of Earth society afforded her premium care in order to present Preyida with the healthiest female to interbreed.

She never fathomed John had arranged her marriage to the ruler of Preyida. He’d been a sly fox. Cunning, sneaky, and a bear to contend with.

“As long as you’re certain.”

Her husband’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. She rubbed her naked arms. “It doesn’t matter if I am sure or not. If I don’t do this of my own will tonight, in privacy, my reproductive consultant team will have us copulate in a glass room, connected to every monitoring device known to man.”

Death laughed. The deep rumble rolled across her skin like a caress and a slight shiver overtook her. She hadn’t expected that reaction. It made her feel delicious.

His glittering eyes brightened somewhat as a smile lifted his mouth. “Who knew billions of beings would be so interested in our love dance? We could sell entry certificates.”

An unexpected giggle escaped from her throat at his term for ‘tickets’. Glow’s tension eased.

“Did your Preyidan counterparts also encourage you to not partake in love dancing, as you call it?”

The light in his eyes dimmed to mere pinpricks. “Yes, the reproductive council mandated my chastity. However, for Preyidan males, we tend to wait a long time to love dance.”

Glow pursed her lips. “Why?”

For the first time since she’d entered their honeymoon suite, he turned from her. A strange tension lined the bulk of his broad shoulders. “Many men of my world preserve their chastity. Our scholars estimate eighty-nine percent of our entire male population have never love danced.”

At least she wouldn’t be the only one in this room who hadn’t a clue what they were doing. “Is there a reason? Some sort of cultural ethos?”

Still averted from her, Death said in a careful tone, “Not quite. The maturation cycle of Preyidan males is similar to Earth males until we reach the age of thirty. However, Preyidan females take longer to mature.”

Brow furrowed, Glow asked, “How much longer?”.  

A beat of silence and then Death answered. “Eighty years.”

Glow’s mouth dropped open. “Eighty years? Then—”

“Yes, the men have to wait entire lifetimes before love dancing with their appointed mates.”

A nagging sense of alarm tugged at her consciousness. In all the talks before their marriage, Lord Haddaway had never breathed a word that the maturation of their race differed from their own.

She poked her tongue into her cheek. “How long will a female remain an infant?”

Death glanced back at her. “On Preyida? Ten years.”

Glow’s legs weakened and she stumbled two steps back. A decade of nursing, diapers, and who knew what else. Thousands of questions exploded like confetti in her mind.

“Why was this not mentioned before?” Her arms swept the room in a wild gesture. “Why did you keep this from me?”

Death gripped her flailing limbs. Goosebumps lifted on her skin at his icy touch.

“It is not so very important, Lee Glow.” Death whispered. His fingers flexed on her upper arms. “My reproductive council believes our interbreeding would decrease the maturation period of any female child we may have.”

A harsh sound erupted from her lips. “Lessen? From ten years to five? Don’t feed me that rock flesh! On Earth, our children are in a constant state of flux. Each moment they change.”

“We know. It’s one of the reasons why we seek more than just a political alliance with you, Lee Glow. We need this interbreeding in order to mix our gene pool with yours.”

His fingers tightened their hold. She shivered again and swallowed a painful knot in her throat. “Why did you keep this from me, Death Haddaway of Preyida?” Her voice shook, and she pressed her lips together. When she felt confident enough to speak again, she asked, “Didn’t I have the right to know? Aren’t we in this together?”

A cynical glare bore a hole right through her. “Tell me, Lee Glow of Earth: are there not things you have kept from me as well?”

She started. Did he know? “What are you talking about?”

He released her. At the loss of his icy grip, she felt bereft.

“Do not presume ignorance on my part. Not only am I a planetary crown of the Alliance, I also possess the Preyidan ability to see frutyrea.” Death loomed over her. Glow stood her ground even as his next words shook her to the core.

“Interbreeding with my people may give yours the ability to see frutyrea radiation. If your people can detect it by natural means, the need for trade agreements with other worlds will become void.”

His bioluminescent eyes hardened like shards of fractured crystal. “Furthermore, if you can harness the frutyrea, this will give you prominent standing within the Alliance. Aren’t you willing to submit to my embrace in order to propel your world’s interests?”

It took all her willpower to keep her chin lifted up. Shame crawled inside her veins and cooled her ire. Death was right.

“John Turner’s legacy persists even though you are the new ruler,” Death went on, clasping his hands behind his back. “Power and progress at all costs. Correct me if I’m wrong, Lee Glow?”

Glow’s thoughts churned as she gazed into those glittering eyes.

Like all political marriages, the façade of harmony hid the undercurrents of planetary intrigue. Each side determined to forward their own agendas. She’d known this going in. Despite her abhorrence of John Turner’s mantra of ‘power and progress at all costs’ she still had to secure her people’s interests.

Did she have the right to berate Death Haddaway, her husband no less, for trying to improve the conditions of his world? The whole point of this marriage was to utilize the assets of both planets to reap mutual rewards.

“Lee Glow?”

She shook her head in dismissal. “We’ll cross that bridge when it we come to it.” She turned away, only to whirl back around when he emitted a strangled sound. “Death? Are you all right?”

“Your... creyatura is exposed,” he rasped. His eyes shone like miniature suns.

Glow’s eyebrows drew into a V. “What?”

“May I...see it again?” His long, dark hand reached out to touch her but then dropped back to his side

She stared for a moment at the anticipatory look on Death’s face. What did he want to see again? The next instant, her mouth formed a silent ‘O’. She remembered now. Preyidan males regarded a woman’s back, the creyatura, as a sexual object. The chiffon and lace gown she wore had three narrow slits placed as an enticement for her husband.

From the smoldering look in his face, Death Haddaway was, without doubt, enticed.

She did as he asked and waited with bated breath. He came up behind her. A trace of pleasant earthiness permeated from his pores. Glow inhaled, intoxicated by his scent.

“I must admit, Lee Glow, I wondered if I would find your creyatura as appealing as the women on my world.” His voice deepened.

Warmth flooded her neck and face. With a child-like expectancy, Glow asked, “Are you pleased?”

“Very much so.”

She smiled and then gave a soft yelp when an ice-cold line of sensation streaked down the length of her spine.

“Forgive me,” he apologized in a husky murmur. “I forget Preyidan body temperatures are much cooler than your own.” His hands rested for brief moment on the small of her back. “I’ve yet to see a more supple, smoother creyatura in my life than what I see before me. You’re perfect.”

“Thank you.” Who knew her back would cause such a reaction?

Death stroked the arched contour of her back once more but she didn’t react as strongly. Every aspect of her life from her birth to her inauguration as ruler of Earth had all led to this moment, where she’d have to succumb to Death’s embrace.

Glancing at the curtains of the canopied bed, she took in a deep breath and then walked over to it. Drawing the curtains aside, she looked over her shoulder.

“Let’s get this over with.”

The Htarian sympathizer concealed his presence long enough to hear the secrets the crowns of Earth and Preyida revealed.

When Lord Haddaway’s eyes glowed in passion at the sight of his wife’s creyatura—which, the sympathizer admitted, was a very fine creyatura indeed—he punched in coordinates via the transporter wrapped around his arm. He entered the last data point and returned to the ruins of Htara as if he’d opened a door to the next room.

As the portal closed behind him, the sympathizer adjusted small nodes along the inner backing of the facial plate to mitigate the effects of the poisonous environment of the decimated world.

Clouds swollen with toxic rains rolled overhead. In the far distance, a volcano oozed out streams of viscous lava. The ground underneath his feet trembled from geological instability caused by John Turner’s weapon of mass destruction. Htara rumbled in its death throes.

This would be the last time he’d set foot on this planet before it imploded. While he had visited Lord Haddaway, his ship had been gathering a precious commodity the Htarians no longer had need of.

“Sheetarin,” he spoke into the intercom connected to his hoverer, “come to these coordinates.”

“Command accepted,” his ship, one of the last to be manufactured, responded in his ear.

Violent shudders rippled throughout the terrain. Unperturbed, he waited for his transport. He faced the looming, blackened carcass of the once-proud Htara Hall of Diminishment. He recalled the day he received an invitation to watch the execution of a group of tourists who protested the Htarian way of life.

Loudspeakers attached to the roof of the building had amplified the screams as they reached high decibels of agony as the Htarian judges tortured them. Outside the Diminishment Hall, the Htarian children had played on the stone steps as the execution reached its finale.

The children’s laughter filled the air like the tinkling sounds of broken glass. They squealed with delighted glee as the judges sprinkled the blood of the dead on them.

A mournful groan, muffled by the facial plate, escaped the sympathizer’s throat. John Turner used Htara’s theft of Earth’s gold to retaliate but he wasn’t fooled. The Htarians had been murderers and cutthroats for years. No, their way of life was not the reason why Earth’s former ruler had destroyed them.

“Approaching coordinates. Please stand by.”

Sheetarin’s voice brought the sympathizer out of his reverie. No time to wallow in the past. The ship hovered above. “Initiating molecular disintegration.”

A brief darkness overcame him. When it lifted, he stood on ship’s reintegration platform. Sheetarin’s laser screens scanned him. “Biomolecular cohesion intact and stable,” the ship reported.

He stepped off the platform. “Are the Htarian pods on board?”

“Affirmative.”

“Analyze structural integrity.” The sympathizer held his breath. With the current state of Htara’s imminent destruction, it was entirely possible he’d been too late in his retrieval of them.

Had John Turner been informed of pods’ existence and cognizant of their contents, he would have destroyed a thousand worlds for them. In this, the sympathizer felt some measure of his rage against the avaricious ruler ebb away. The pods were Htara’s best kept secret and he would use their secret to his advantage.

But, if the pods sustained any damage...

“Structural integrity intact,” the ship responded.

The breath whooshed out and the slight tension which had gripped his body eased away. Breathing again, he hurried to the command center.

Warning alarms blared as Sheetarin announced Htara’s looming annihilation. He shielded the ship and launched into space. From minimum safe distance, the sympathizer maximized the magnification of the screen and sat still to witness the destruction of the Htarian home world.

The planet smoldered from within. Soon it resembled a bubble of molten lava. Then in a dazzling display, the world imploded in a soundless burst of energy. Massive, continent-sized pieces of the rocky crust were expelled forward at incredible speeds.

A piercing pain stabbed his chest. It ached as he watched the fiery debris cooled to cold, gray rock. Remnants of the once proud civilization floated in the inky depths of space. Did John Turner believe the death of Htara would further his plans unthwarted? His fist shook with resolve. No. He was the last hope of Htara.

With not quite steady fingers, he inputted the command and terminated the view of what was left of Htara. Then he plotted a course that would continue his journey.

His mind replayed the conversation between Lord Haddaway and Ruler Lee. In order to destroy Earth, he had to do it through Preyida. But there was more to Preyida than what met the eye. His suspicions about Death Haddaway would be put to rest once and for all when he obtained the lord’s ginyeater. The question which had lurked in his mind for countless years would be answered.

All he had to do was a little magic. Turn rocks into gold. A simple enough thing for his greater objective. All he had to do was bide his time.

“What was it like to make love to Death?” Mavenella Osprey, the Alliance’s most popular galactic personality, asked as she sat across from Glow in the white and teal blue sitting room of Ruler’s House.

Glow knew the brash question would arise but it still made her eyes roll.

“Really, Mrs. Osprey? Really?”

Three metallic gray drone cameras captured the interview from various angles. Mavenella popped a bubble of gum. Pieces of the gooey stuff splatted on her tanned cheeks. “Yes, really.” She tugged the gum slivers and flipped them away. “What was it like?”

Glow forced blinders over her memories of her wedding night and the nights since. What she and Death did behind closed doors was their business alone.

“Next question.” Glow dismissed with a flick of her fingers.

Mavenella gaped. “Ruler Lee! You can’t leave the galaxy in suspense. Billions of viewers had to wait three months for you to even give a public talk.”

“You’re all about to be disappointed,” Glow answered in a dry tone. “Now unless you give me specific questions relating to current affairs, I will leave this interview.” She slanted a look at her hostess. “If John Turner still held power...”

An uneasy expression crossed the hostess’s face. “Yes, yes, of course.” She tugged on the edges of her green dress. “How soon will Earth’s supply of gold be replenished?”

Glow settled back into the plush, light-blue sofa and clasped her fingers into a steeple. “We’ve received word from Conductor Ti’luku P’hita of the space train Legend. The shipment is on its way. The gold should be here in three months.”

“About the trains.” Mavenella crossed her famous legs. Glow was positive the cameras ate up the sight with a voracious appetite. “Let’s discuss that for a moment.”

The skin between her shoulder blades tightened. “Of course.”

“Earth has received censure from both civilians and high-ranking officials of the Alliance regarding the dark matter strand railway. According to Article 36 of the Galactic Space Transport Authority, all space locomotive craft are to be manufactured on this planet only. Per Article 36, Earth maintains all exclusivity for one hundred fifty years. Some perceive this as a gross attempt to garner an unfair advantage.”

I know. John wanted total control.

Glow smoothed the material of her bronze sheath dress, a wedding gift from an aligned planet whose main export consisted of textiles. “Let me answer that first with a thank you to Loiark for this gorgeous dress they’ve given as a gift for me.”

Mavenella gave an obligatory nod of agreement. “You look stunning, Ruler Lee.”

“Without the railways, I would not have received such generosity from the Loiarkians. We would have been ignorant of their special ability to create such wonderful materials for distribution to the galaxy at large.”

Make sure Earth is seen as the light to the rest of the galaxy, John’s voice echoed in her mind.

“Earth had long wondered if anyone else existed outside of our solar system. Then, in our typical fashion, we utilized dark matter in order to answer our own question. We found all of you.” Glow stressed the ‘we’, following John’s admonition while combating the slimy feeling inside.

“Ruler Lee, there’s not a citizen in the galactic community who doesn’t appreciate the monumental contribution Earth has made to the development of this Alliance. The question remains: why restrict the technology? Earth has made it a criminal offense to build and use non-locomotive space craft not designed to work on the rails. Further, unless approved, space ships cannot be used for inter-solar system and galactic travel.”

From the shrewd glint in the hostess’s eyes, she knew the woman thought she had her. “Earth? Choose your words with care, Mrs. Osprey. The Alliance determined these actions as criminal,” she stressed.

“Oh, come now!” Mavenella scoffed. “You’re the Chancellor of the High Assembly! Outlawing space ships is a vote away.”

The not-so-subtle implications were clear. But Glow’s training from the master manipulator had been thorough.

“Ships?” She made her eyes widen in supposed shock. “Do you propose we continue to use a mode of transportation which requires limited sources of fuel? Do we risk our sons and daughters to the possibility of being lost in space, never to be seen or heard from again? Yes, space ships and other non-locomotive spacecraft hav been made a criminal offense.

“Furthermore, Earth is leading in the development of this technology, not restricting. Multi-disciplinary divisions of every planet within the Alliance are involved and working with the GSTA.”

Could anyone tell how much rock flesh she’d shoved down their throats? Mavenella’s cynical lift of her eyebrow proved she wasn’t fooled by the political rhetoric. Which meant others wouldn’t be either.

As long as they keep their mouths shut, she heard John’s voice say in her head.

Glow went on. “Earth is the most advanced world within the Alliance. We discovered the strands of dark matter. We utilized them for space exploration. We created this collaborative. Without us, there would be no Alliance.”

Mavenella gave a delicate sniff of her tiny nostrils. It was evident the hostess wasn’t eating the rock flesh she threw on her plate. “I hope our viewers share your sentiment. Let’s return to the matter of the gold. What will the first shipment be utilized for?”

“Stabilization of our fabrication industries and electronic communications. The next shipments will be for reintegration into our society on a planned schedule of release.”

“Aren’t there are other resources Earthlings can use? Surely gold isn’t so valuable as that?”

“Gold is not just an element on the periodic table. It has a special place within our culture. To not have gold is to not have the blood in our veins.”

Glow fielded more questions as her thoughts stirred.

Death had grimaced when she mentioned the final amount of gold Earth expected to receive from Preyida.

“Why so much?” Death had queried with a strained line about his mouth.

She hadn’t held back the sarcasm threading her words. “What exactly did you think I meant when I said, ‘Replenish Earth’s supply of gold’? A couple of railcars?”

“Yes, but that’s a fifty percent increase in the original amount before the theft.”

She’d shrugged. “We also need to restock.”

“Of course,” Death had answered, sweeping his round head in a restless manner. “It’s stipulated in the agreement.”

“Then why do I sense...?” Her voice had trailed off.

“Nothing, Lee Glow. I am agitated. Nothing more.”

The exchange, one of the many they’d had over the past three months of their marriage, increased her wariness. It was apparent Death hid something from her. Glow expected nothing less from her husband. They were both political figures. Politicians such as themselves always held back.

Her problem didn’t lie in his hidden secrets alone. It lay within the knowledge Death was becoming important to her. She hadn’t foreseen the intimacy and friendship her husband gave her. Hadn’t comprehended it would act as a catalyst to turn her heart into something more than a physical organ pumping blood.

Said heart leapt whenever he came into the room. Its beat throbbed in an unsteady rhythm to the sight of his sparkling pupils as they brightened and dimmed with whatever emotion struck him.

Each night she entered their suite and unlocked the shackles of her station. Her reproductive consultant team had, with great reluctance, allowed their couplings to continue in private.

So, if she surrendered to the passion Death evoked in her with a wild abandon, if she lost her wits with each frigid stroke of his fingers over her body, if she craved more of their loving with an appetite bordering on insatiable, then only they knew of it themselves.

Within their chambers she was simply Lee Glow, wife of Death Haddaway. A woman very much taken with her husband, alien spouse though he may be.

“Ruler Lee?”

Without giving away any outward sign she hadn’t heard the woman, Glow replied, “Phrase the question a different way.”

“Is it possible Preyidan citizens will orchestrate other marriages such as yours and Lord Haddaway’s?”

Glow nodded. “I foresee a healthy surge of interracial matrimonies.”

More glimpses of their intimate moments flittered through her mind but instead of flushed recall, a swirling cloud of worry accompanied them.

Death hid something substantial. Though her feelings for Death had deepened in the last three months, it didn’t mean he saw her as anything more than a means to an end. They’d married for the sole purpose of what the other could bring to the table.

Mavenella leaned over and whispered, although no less than ten billion viewers could hear her. “Is there a little one on the way?”

A little one. Glow stopped the innate desire to flatten her hand against her belly. A child to share both the traits of Earth and Preyida. Such a birth could be a catastrophe - or the best thing since designer babies.

“My reproductive committee maintains meticulous attention to my condition. Believe me,” Glow added with a hint of cynicism, “you’d be the first to know.”

Mavenella squealed like a prodded pig. “Oh, that would be an honor.”

“I’m sure it would be.”

The interview ended a few moments later and she escaped to her compartments. Walking down the opulent halls of Ruler’s House, flanked by her security contingent, Glow felt the unease inside grow. What was the secret of Death that he held so dear?

“Lord Haddaway, Captain Stonewood of the GSTA patrol is here to see you.”

Death tore himself away from the details of a report. “Thank you,” he said to the flunky, a member of the mostly female uniformed staff that serviced members of the Alliance who held crown offices in Ruler’s House. “You can show him in.”

The flunky gave a courteous bow and then stood aside to allow the captain to enter his compartments.

Captain Stonewood, a diminutive man with a, booming voice bellowed out, “Lord Haddaway, I’ve received word that the first railcar of the transport caravan from Preyida will be in orbit within the hour. Once they’ve been scanned and cleared by Low Orbit security, they’ll disembark at Terran Vital.”

“Are all the railcars arriving on schedule, Captain Stonewood?”

“Yes. The intervals vary as each railcar has to go through Low Orbit Security for processing and clearance.”

Death’s heart leapt in his chest but he made sure that his face revealed nothing of his thoughts. “Do you have the manifest?”

Captain Stonewood handed over the small tablet with the holographic Preyidan crown seal. The seal locked its contents and could only be opened by Death or any of his staff with high level clearance. “It’s all there, sir,” the captain nodded toward the tablet. “Each railcar, the passenger list, and cargo hold.”

Death took the tablet. “You may go.”

When the captain had gone, Death turned toward his right where the head of his security contingent, Chief LaClara Tymarlin, stood at the ready. Her average height frame, bright skin, and regular, unremarkable features hid a woman of great strength.

“Chief Tymarlin, how soon can you and your team be ready to accompany me to Terran Vital?”

She stepped forward in a quick, jerky movement. “Fifteen minutes, Lord Haddaway.”

He nodded. “Take whatever security measures you need. I will await your escort.”

Chief Tymarlin gave nod and then exited his compartments. He could hear her muffled voice directing the rest of his contingent to take the necessary precautions to achieve his safety.

Safety. Death felt his mouth twist in a sardonic way. In regards to his people and their need to survive, he was just as diligent as his private security chief.

Sighing, he pressed the seal atop the tablet. The holographic list of the manifest floated up before him. The manifest details numbered, among other things, twenty thousand Preyidan emigrants. These were just the first wave. Thousands more were making their way to his new home. They couldn’t leave their home world fast enough.

Could his people escape Preyida before Earth, or rather Lee Glow, discovered the lie?

Death tossed the tablet on the glass table and smoothed the globe of his head. In three months of marriage, he found himself growing attached to his wife.  He longed for her presence even when she wasn’t there.

Was that normal? To...to...crave this alien woman with an amorous edacity difficult to control? Instead of trying to curb his desire for her, she encouraged it.

It...whatever this was...had started during his honeymoon. A random comment about wanting to see the Valles Marineris, one the largest canyon rifts in Earth’s solar system had changed their destination. She’d surprised him when their private railcar traveled the short distance from Earth to Mars in just a few hours.

When they had alighted from the private railcar, Death had asked her, “Why are we here? I thought we were staying on Earth?”

Her brow had crinkled. “You said you wanted to see the Valles Marineris.”

“Yes, but—” He didn’t know what to say.

“Did you not want to come here? We can return if you’d like.”

“No, that’s quite all right. I’m...glad you considered my request.”

Lee Glow had said nothing more as they were processed at the Martian GSTA security center.

From there, their honeymoon had taken on a surreal aspect. They had toured the canyon. An Earthling through and through, Lee Glow found nothing of its features to inspire her awe. Everyone on her planet had been to Mars more than once. Yet, she had been a wealth of information as they went about studying the red, coppery landscape.

On the last day of their honeymoon, he sternly told himself that this...enjoyment with her had to end. He’d only married to save his people. For her part, it was no secret that Lee Glow had entered into their union for the explicit purpose of power and progress at any cost. 

He’d better do well to remember that.

Nonetheless, as they stood side, the Martian sunset colored the scene in a gentle flow of light. It lingered on reflective surface of the domed metropolis of Muskelonia City.

Lee Glow had groaned. “Do we have to go back?”

“I wish we didn’t.” Death had wrapped his arms around her waist. “But the worlds await our return.”

She’d gazed up at him.  At that moment, the blue light of the setting sun caressed her skin and turned it into an ethereal, luminous hue. Her full pink lips bloomed a soft purplish tint. The light flowed over her dark hair and gave it a silvery sheen.

An ice queen, the wayward thought crossed his mind. A lithe, beautiful ice queen.

Yet, he knew there was nothing cold about her though the Martian sunset seemed to depict otherwise. Without conscious awareness, he bent and nibbled the ridge of her ear. 

Lee Glow had gasped and her head fell back against his chest. “You’re cold,” she’d moaned in that whimper of pleasure which had only served to drive him mad.

His lips had trailed past the lobe of her ear and down the length of her neck. “You taste like fire,” he’d murmured, enthralled with that curious heat of her skin which never seemed to abate.

“You’ve said that before,” she’d replied as her eyes drifted shut, the long lashes an arc of darkness against her pale cheekbones.

“Have I?” He’d lapped the sensitive nubs around her collarbone.

Every time he touched her in these three weeks, which happened more often than not, it was rediscovery. A rediscovery of the warmth of her flesh, of the softness of her body. He hadn’t expected to feel anything for his alien wife, knowing that she was a means to an end. A way to protect his people from a certain doom.

But when they love danced, his reasons melted away in the flames of Lee Glow’s passion.

“You don’t seem at all in a hurry to leave.” His wife’s husky laughter had filled the room as he hefted her up in his arms and carried her back to the bed. The brightness of her smile rivaled the rubies in the wedding necklace that hung around her throat.

“I’m not,” he’d responded, gathering her close. And for a moment, all he wanted was to stay there, right there, under the gossamer blue rays of light of Martian twilight. Just him and Lee Glow in a small room, on a nearly barren planet. Leave behind the galaxy at large. Forget that in exchange for her sweet honesty, he’d given her bitter lies.

“Lord Haddaway?”

He came out of his thoughts to see Chief Tymarlin standing there, her arms clasped behind her back.  Death stood. “Are we ready to depart?”

“Yes.”

He put on his outer garments and the exited his compartments, surrounded on all sides by his security contingent with Chief Tymarlin in next to him.

They made their way down the glittering halls of Ruler’s House. Their shoes clicked on the marble floors and their hazy figures reflected in the gold trimmings along the walls. He passed the other compartments occupied by planetary crowns as they made their way toward the exit.

Death’s heart beat in a rapid tattoo as they arrived at the wide glass doors. Would his plan work? Would he be able to save his people? Could he keep it a secret from his wife? The questions beat at the same staccato rhythm of his heart.

He just didn’t know how this would end. He could only try to do his best.

Without a word, Chief Tymarlin handed him a pair of tinted glasses which he put on. After all these months of living on Earth, he still had yet to accustom himself to the brightness of the Sun.

The attendant flunkies opened the door and the bright April sunshine washed over him. Death was glad for the glasses which protected his eyesight.

Outside the doors, several black flying conveyances of various models idled on the street. Embossed with the seal of Preyida as well that of the Alliance, they denoted his diplomatic status. He entered the longest conveyance with its dark blue velvet interior along with Chief Tymarlin and another guard.

Death tuned out his security chief’s orders, content to let her handle things. Soon, they were driving away from Ruler’s House. He looked back, never tiring of the stately frame of the most important building in all the galaxy.

Ruler’s House was the epicenter of the Alliance. From what Lee Glow had told him, Ruler’s House mirrored ancient homes of royalty of days gone by. She abhorred its decadence from the castle-like exterior to the almost vulgar display of prestige. Yet, it remained.

His vehicle lifted into the air and the palatial building grew smaller and smaller. When it looked no bigger than a doll’s house, Death turned his attention away and back to what he needed to focus on: the arrival at Terran Vital.

“Lord Haddaway, GSTA Patrol states the first railcar of the caravan has arrived,” Chief Tymarlin’s voice broke in on his thoughts once more.

He had to pull it together. “I take it they’re beginning the process of clearance.”

“Yes.” She paused, and cocked her head as if listening. “Arch-medic Crawford is there to assist.”

Death nodded. His personal arch-medic along with a group of a hundred Preyidan elites had journeyed with him three months before his marriage. It would be good to have a medical scholar well versed in Preyidan physiology to assess the health of his people.

In the distance, thin clouds died away to reveal the mega structure of Terran Vital. Four massive transparent towers led to the Low Orbit train depot which facilitated the arrival and departures of the space trains as they entered and exited the planet.

Nearing the eastern pylon, he listened with half an ear as Chief Tymarlin demanded security clearance. The steel gate glinted dully in the bright sunlight. When they came within a few hundred yards, the dual doors slid open and they went through.

His vehicle hovered for a few moments as it was scanned with a laser light from above them.  Death shook his head at the overzealous security. Though no planet in the Alliance would ever think about attacking them, Earthlings remained suspicious. He’d told his wife her people had security procedures for security procedures.

After the scan, and Chief Tymarlin received approval to proceed, the vehicle shot upwards. In a blur, they passed hundreds of feet of transparent material and stone until they reached the highest level which revealed an open platform.

Brilliant white narrow walks edged, for all intents and purposes, an enclosed railway. He’d seen images of railroad tracks from Earth’s antiquity. Instead of a permanent way consisting of rails, fasteners, and other minutiae, the track was a solid metal track gleaming with frutyrea radiation which only Preyidans could detect.

His vehicle flew over to a vertical holding structure where other conveyances were parked. The driver slotted the vehicle into an empty space and soon they were all exiting and making their way down the platform.

“Low Orbit security states processing is almost complete,” Chief Tymarlin said as they came to the elevator shaft that would take them to quarantine cells where processing took place.

Death nodded again. “Relate to Captain Stonewood I wish to speak with my people before they are taken to the surface.”

“The quarantine cells can only hold three hundred at a time.”

“I’ll visit each one. I need to greet my people. Alone,” he added.

“Lord Haddaway,” Chief Tymarlin began to oppose a frown.

“Maintain your security measures outside of each cell,” he commanded. “But I will speak to my people without an Earthling presence.”

A fierce scowl dominated her face but she gave curt orders as they took the elevators down to quarantine row. Down the dim-lit hall, he removed the tinted glasses. Large windows revealed the GSTA personnel and the arrival of Preyidan citizenry being processed in an assembly-line fashion before their entry to the surface.

Escorted into the first quarantine cell, he was greeted by Arch-medic Scythe Crawford. “Lord Haddaway.” The man fell on his knees to the gray cement floor, his long reddish hair obscuring his face.

“Rise and address me, Arch-medic Scythe Crawford.”

Standing again, the man’s glittering blue eyes bore into his own. “The next three cells are being filled per your order.”

The heavy metal door opened behind the arch-medic, and the first of the emigrants shuffled in. They all squinted in the harsh light but besides that, they looked well. Earth would take some getting used, an undertaking each of them were more than happy to bear in order to escape Preyida.

Once the final person entered the cell, the door shut behind them. A roomful of bioluminescent eyes sparkled like an Earth midnight sky studded with stars. They gathered against the tiled metal walls, filling up the entire space.

“Lord Haddaway,” they all greeted, falling to their knees in ancient Preyidan custom.

“You may all rise.”

When the last one stood, he addressed them.

“My Preyidan comrades, welcome to Earth. I do not have to tell you what is at stake. We’ve left everything behind for this reason: if we remained, we would meet our eventual end. Here on this world, the possibilities are endless. We can thrive here, grow here. This planet is our home now and we will give everything we can to help it succeed.”

Death spread out his hands and stared at them for a moment, collecting his thoughts.  “It is imperative that you say nothing about what we left behind. Nothing about the true state of things.”

One of the emigrants came forward and fell to his knees, head bowed. “Lord Haddaway, may I address you?”

“Your name?”

“Squalor Benson,” the man answered.

Death nodded. “Rise and address me, Squalor Benson.”

“Thank you, my lord.” The man rose back to his feet. “What of the gold, my lord? Have you been able to fulfill Preyida’s commitment that we resupply Earth’s stock of gold?”

The skin of his ginyeater tightened but Death said, “I have made arrangements and we will be able to do as we have promised.”

“But sire, we have no such ability,” Squalor’s brown eyes dimmed. “How can we do such a thing when –”

“Would you rather we stayed on Preyida?”

The question, spoken in his soft tones, fell over the occupants of the room like a heavy blanket. Death searched each one of their faces, seeing their apprehension and dread. Into this thick and murky silence, he replied, “This is the only way to escape.”

Squalor bowed deeply and melted back into the crowd.

Death continued to address them, not sure of all he was saying but hitting upon the salient points of their new home. When he finished, he left the cell to go to the next one. And the one after that. And another until hours later, twenty thousand Preyidans heard his message.

A message of hope and of secrecy. Of a brilliant new future veiled by an uncertain present.

Yet the burden of what only he knew rested on his shoulders and pulled the skin of his ginyeater so taut, he ached.

Everything rested on a little creature with no name and no face.

The sympathizer walked among the elite of the galaxy, unheard and unseen. These members of the High Assembly thronged along the hall of The Gallery, an antechamber that led to the high chamber where Ruler Lee met with various crowns and royals.

Large, stone pillars inlaid with marble and trimmings of gold held up the arched domed ceiling. Myriad pairs of feet clicked on the floor which shone with an almost reflective sheen. Crowns adorned in state dress of richly woven cloth and fabrics milled about, congregating in small groups as they awaited the arrival of Ruler Lee.

How many worlds’ fate was decided right here in The Gallery? Amid the luxurious opulence and the decadence of great power, planets which were flung far across the galaxy could meet here and strike agreements to benefit citizens millions of light years away.

“Do you really suppose Crown Turner will approve the treaty between—”

“Crown Balark intends to fully back Ruler Lee in—”

“Preyida has certainly done well for itself with this marriage to Earth. But don’t you think it’s rather peculiar that—”

On and on the conversations and speculations went. The sympathizer listened to them, storing nuggets of information as he saw fit. Everywhere, the members of the High Assembly bustled about in their agendas and intrigues.

A well of sorrow attacked the sympathizer with a suddenness that halted him in his tracks. Had Htara’s fate been decided amidst all of these royals?

Pushing away his morose thought, he collected his bearings. He stood alongside a large mural, one of many that had been painted by artisans of Earth, thus the name The Gallery. Each painting added in some way the origin story of the Milky Way Planetary Alliance.

The artist’s rendering of the first space train that traveled along the dark matter railway from Earth. Here, in this artist conception, the train, named Explorer, traveled away from the blue planet in a horizontal line, fully encapsulated by early protective sheathing.

The backdrop of the universe loomed like an ominous creature, portraying the unknown, dangerous quality of space travel with darkness. Yet, the bright, silver train sped away, marking the beginning of Earth’s rule.

Passing through the bodies of a pair of crowns, he studied another mural. Here, the painting detailed the network of railways as the creator of the piece interpreted it. No one could see dark matter but most understood it in mathematical form.

Gray, wispy lines surrounded a quartet of depicted planets of some distant solar system. Trains traveled on those loose, fluid tracks which arced around the spheres, illustrating how the dark matter railways encompassed each world, giving rise to the connectivity of the galaxy at large.

How could Htara know that such access would spell their doom?

“Earthlings have such talent,” a crown, dressed in a deep, green gown stated as she walked with another royal. The woman had highly ornate eyebrow paint and jewelry in a face dark with reddish hues. “They express themselves so well in the medium of art. No other race in the Alliance has such an aptitude for manifestations as they do.”

“True.” The royal beside Green-gown wore a gold, conical shaped umbrella hat gestured to the painting as they sat on the bench before it, his skin pale as silk. “See how this artist illustrates the Engineer’s hand creating the railways with just the tips of the finger hold the writing implement?”

These foreign royals had no idea the writing instrument held in the hand of the Engineer, the deity many of the Alliance worshipped and paid homage. Those of a devout nature referred to themselves as ‘beacons’ or ‘beaconess’, depending on sex.

“Must Earth have so much claim to the galaxy?” Green-gown asked under her breath.

“Of course,” Gold-hat responded. “They’re the ones whom the Engineer gave the wherewithal to discover and travel the railways. They’ve enlarged their territory by absorbing worlds into the Alliance.”

“But there are thousands of galaxies,” Green-gown argued. “Surely they can’t rule them all.”

“This is Earth,” Gold-hat laughed with derisive fondness. “They will certainly try.”

“Don’t you mean, he will try?” Green-gown leaned over with a smirk.

“He’s no longer the ruler of Earth,” Gold-hat sniffed and swiped his nostrils.

“Don’t you believe that.” Green-gown wagged a long-tapered forefinger. Turning this way and that, more than likely to ensure she wasn’t being overheard, she leaned further in. “Crown Turner may no longer hold the seat but don’t think he doesn’t rule.”

“What of Ruler Lee?”

“What of her?” Green-gown lifted her shoulder in nonchalance. “She’s a marionette crown. Crown Turner holds the majority of Earth’s sector viceroys. Don’t think otherwise.”

“How do you know so much about Earth’s politics?”

“I’ve lived here for a while. Earthlings are a chatty bunch. Feed them food or give them an inebriating drink and they’ll tell you everything.”

“Ionellia, surely Ruler Lee has taken some initiatives that are purely of her own volition.”

“Pah!” Ionellia laughed. “Such as what, Vandor?”

“Didn’t she approve of the new space train set to—”

“Nothing she does is of her own volition. The only reason why she’s named ruler is because Earth decrees every twenty to thirty years, or thereabouts, a new person is selected. If not for that, Crown Turner would still be in power.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Ionellia.” Vandor gripped her hand and kissed the back of it. “Most of the High Assembly still go to him because of their lack of belief in Ruler Lee’s capabilities.”

“And you?”

“I’m willing to withhold judgement. After all, though Crown Turner made her marriage to the Preyidan lord as part of the treaty, the benefit of said marriage has certainly been useful.”

“Oh?”

“Well, the research the Preyidans have brought with them with the frutyrea research has already been implemented on the newest space train set to head out toward the end of the year.”

“Vandor,” Ionellia craned her neck in an awkward way as she stretched herself to look her compatriot in the eye without moving her body. “Do you think Preyida can restore Earth’s gold?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think. They’d better. No one wants Earth as enemy.”

The sympathizer turned his attention back to the Engineer mural. Earth, painted in vibrant color signifying the lush greenery of the land along with the pure, azure of its oceans. A perfect rounded sphere with lines of gray arced around it, indicating the dark matter railways.

Above the romantic view of earth, the Engineer’s hand gripped the quill. The artwork seemed to suggest that the blue planet had been selected by the deity as the main depot of exploration. Whether or not that was true was hardly the case.

He glanced over at the most prominent mural of all. A galactic cartograph centered on the farthest wall, opposite of the entrance. A third of the galaxy belonged to the Alliance.

Or, to put it more bluntly, John Turner ruled a third of galaxy.

“Look, the flunkies have opened the doors.” Green-grown gripped Gold-hat with a slender, dark brown hand. “Ruler Lee and Crown Turner must be arriving.”

“Let’s hurry.”

The royals leapt up from the stone bench. The sympathizer slinked unseen after them and stopped at the same time they did, finding a place on either side of the pillars to watch the procession of the High Chancellor.

Such a spectacle! Ruler Lee entered the antechamber, dressed in the impeccable manner of a royal. Lord Haddaway towered on one side of his wife, while the chief vizier trailed a few paces behind. John Turner marched behind them, his dark face set in uncompromising lines. The sympathizer longed to hurl himself at the man but knew that wouldn’t be the appropriate action.

He turned his eyes to focus on Ruler Lee, thinking of the royal Ionellia’s words. A marionette crown. Well, by the time it was all said and done, John Turner wouldn’t be the only one pulling on strings.

“You have to understand I had no choice.” Jutta twisted her fingers in knots as she stood in dejection before Glow in her compartments. “I have to do what Crown Turner insists of me.”

Glow slammed her hands against the cherry wood desk. “How could you, of all people, undermine me? Do you have any idea how powerless I looked out there in the Gallery?”

A tense silence followed her words as Glow stared with wounded eyes at the woman before her. Beaconess Jutta Drewes, Chief Vizier to the crown of Earth, born of the world Ag’o but human in every strand of her DNA.

“I assigned the train Envoy to Conductor Owendt Kurnote’ before I married Lord Haddaway,” Glow clipped out in slow measures. “Why did you go behind my back and not only have John revoke his status but reassign the Envoy to another?”

“I had misgivings about him,” Jutta’s thin, tightly clasped hands shook with nerves. Usually, that would be a sign for Glow to temper her ire. Jutta, though human, had spent the formative years of her life on the world of Ag’o. Ag’osians avoided conflict at almost any cost. If unable to circumvent, Ag’osians had panic attacks.

Jutta is not Ag’osian, Glow reminded herself. She lifted her chin and pinned her eyes on Jutta’s. She was human and humans had been dealing with confrontation and conflict since the beginning.

“Misgivings? What misgivings?”

Jutta’s cerulean blue eyes appealed to her, shimmering like gems. “When I met him in the Gallery, I noticed an imperfection along his ear.”

“Imperfection?” Glow scowled. “What sort of imperfection?”

“A preauricular fistula.” Jutta used her left finger to point to a spot at edge of the ridge of her ear. “When I saw it, it created doubts within me. How could we have such a man lead the Envoy into the new, uncharted territories at the farthest reaches of our galaxy?”

“An ear pit?” Glow stood and leaned over the cherry wood desk. “You let an ear pit dictate the worthiness of a conductor?”

“Please don’t get upset with me,” Jutta begged, her voice both shrill and breathy. “I can’t bear it if you’re upset with me.”

Glow ignored the entreaty. “Jutta, an ear pit?”

“Crown Turner says we must present the very best when we begin to foray into uncharted territory. The Envoy will be surveying a—”

“Don’t feed me that rock flesh, Jutta!” Glow stomped around the desk to stand before the trembling figure. “I am the ruler of Earth, not John!”

“Yes, I know, but—”

“Beaconess Drewes, if you cannot carry out my commands as I say, then I will replace you with someone else who will.”

“Crown Turner will never allow that, Ruler Lee,” Jutta responded with as much formality as she had. “You and I are aware of those facts.”

Glow’s stomach knotted at her words. Now Jutta wanted to access the human part of her upbringing. The part of her being which imparted facts in cold, harsh words.

“And what are those facts, Jutta?”

The woman traced the edge of her blue conical, umbrella hat. “There are hundreds, perhaps thousands among the Alliance, from all over the galaxy who obey John Turner without question. You may sit on the throne of the galaxy but your crown does not rest on your head.”

If someone had slammed a sledgehammer into her stomach, it would have hurt less than Jutta’s words. Especially since she was right. In an agonized groan, Glow asked, “Don’t I deserve your loyalty?”

Jutta’s eyes widened. “Of course, you do. You have it.”

“Then why?” Glow already knew the answer but she hoped it would be different this time.

The chief vizier glanced to a spot behind her. “John Turner was the one who rescued me when the Htarians killed my family in one of their ‘hunts’.” Revulsion and pain contorted her features. “It was he who finally destroyed them and avenged my family’s deaths. What more can I give him but my total obedience?”

What was insanity but repeating the same feat and expecting a different result?

Glow knew Jutta would probably give her life for John Turner, the man who rescued her. Ag’osian culture being what it was, if someone saved your life, you gave them yours in return. Wryly, Glow thought of the fact that humans may be forever appreciative, but the magic of rescue often faded away.

“It was me who held you at night when the nightmares came,” Glow gestured wildly. “It was me who listened to your cries when no one else in Ruler’s House would even give you the time of day. Me, Jutta! Your best friend.”

Images of them as little girls pirouetted before her, wispy shadows of days gone by. Jutta screaming and hiding in the corner of the room set aside for her in Ruler’s House. Glow shoving the heavy door open and running to her, rocking her and telling her it would be okay.

Bonds had formed from those nights. They had both been children of high status. Glow, selected to be the next ruler of Earth. Jutta, daughter of one of the most prominent plenipotentiaries of the Alliance. Yet in reality, they were two little girls caught in the numbing clasp of loneliness.

Jutta must have sensed the direction of her thoughts because she sighed. Grasping the edges of her voluminous blue gown, a garment that resembled a nun’s habit, she fell into a deep courtesy. Glow opened her mouth to protest when Jutta said, “You are my friend and my queen. I will serve you with every breath of my body.”

“Jutta, how can you say you’re my friend and I am your queen when you constantly defer to John?“

“My loyalties are strained.” Jutta stated with a low bow of her head. “The Ag’osian beliefs I was raised with dictate to me that I am to obey without question the man who saved my life. The human I am, the DNA that runs through me, demands I question such blind devotion when you have always been there for me.”

She gave a hint of sad, sardonic smile. “I’m torn between worlds, you know. The world of my birth and the world of my soul.” Jutta’s lips trembled. “How fortunate that you do not suffer from such dichotomy. You’re a better human than I am, my lady.”

That was a preview of The House of Haddaway. To read the rest purchase the book.

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