Chapter Nineteen: Honor Unchained — Part 3

Susan sat quietly at the currently dead terminal, frowning at its lacking complexity. The imager was a bare metallic box, buffed to a dull gray, and sitting inside the box was a phosphor screen. Susan could make out the room behind her in its polished, reflective surface. She had just turned the imager off, and wiped it clear of dust, wondering why, with all the alternatives available even to the most primitive space-faring folk, they insisted on using a black and white screen. Devon sat down behind her, studying the screen closely, not knowing what to make of such out-dated technology. Rather than comment on it, he simply sighed and asked the question on everybody’s minds.

“So what have you found out?” Devon asked, squeezing her tightly about the waist.

“Only what they want me to know.” Susan said. “They’ve developed a religion that is a basic cross between Buddhism and Shamanism. They’re an active lot, much into politics, and they have developed a single nation with a federalized democratic government that spanned, until recently, across two worlds. Despite this they still have and struggle with a class system. The Storm Clan, which was responsible for them gaining freedom from the Cynosure, has been banished from the surface of Vodia during a failed attempt by the current leader of that family to act out a political coup. I don’t know who the good and the bad were on that issue. They seem to feel this little piece of information would be pertinent to us, as if we would be in opposition to the Storm Clan, just because they paint this group in a negative light. The Vodian Commerce Council has opened trade negotiations with all the local worlds, and according to their own records, are attempting to open peaceful negotiations with us. It’s vague, like a child’s history lesson.”

“Hmm.” Devon listened intently. He could hear the firestorm starting, and he smiled, because the sound of thunder reminded him of home. “I want to go hunting.”

“You want to snoop.” Susan corrected, her fingertips plying gently on his leg, sending chills down his spine. “I think it would be wise for us to doze a little until Alexsai returns. What we need to know will become obvious to us soon enough.”

True to her predictions, Susan lay back with Devon, and waited for Alexsai to wake up. The servants came and went about their duties, looking at the small group with mixed awe and fear. Susan took notice that the servants dressed in specific colors and wore what appeared to be uniforms. White linen shirts and pants seemed to be the standard. The two cleaning her room were of a specific genetic stock, slightly shorter and lighter in their skin-tone than Alexsai had been, with softer features that may only have been because of their youth. The servants spoke little, but Susan didn’t need their words to feel the general contempt that they held for their ‘Masters.’ Being a creature attuned to suffering, Susan could feel pinpoints of loss and pain throughout her environment. She cornered a servant, a boy of about fourteen, lanky and beautiful, with deep, flint speckled eyes, and a smile that rarely appeared. He worked with a small girl, who was diligently polishing the wood off a tabletop, aiming for some level of perfection that no person could hope to obtain with wood so old. The girl glanced at Susan occasionally, polishing harder after every sidewise look, as if Susan might punish her for indolence. Caution to the wind, Susan extended a greeting.

“Hello sir, ma’am.” She said, smiling kindly.

The boy looked around nervously, unsure of what he should do in response to her. “Don’t call me sir, you’ll get me in trouble.” He whispered, and then continued loudly. “Good day ma’am, how may I assist you?”

“For one thing, you can relax. Charles and Devon disabled all the surveillance devices before I entered the room, and we further buffered the walls and doors so that no sound comes or goes from this room. Alexsai is wired, but you aren’t, or we would have detected it. In other words, we like our privacy. Sir, might I ask your name?”

“I’m not supposed to be talking to you. I have work to do.” He said, dusting a table.

“Yes, yes you do. Might I help?” Susan asked, taking up a cloth.

“Oh, no ma’am, they’ll kill me.” The boy said. He looked up, realizing that the highest points were well out of the range of his dust rag. “Damn – excuse me ma’am. I forgot my ladder. I’ll be back in a short while.”

“With a sore ass and back. Oh Joni, you’d better just throw me on your shoulders again.” The girl warned silently.

“You still can’t reach the high spots.” Joni said. “They always check the high spots.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll hold you up there until you’re done. You’ll be able to hit all the high spots. How does that sound?” Susan smiled.

“Like a blessing in disguise. What’s the price?”

“Friendship, if you can spare it.” Susan said, her skin tingling as she touched him.

In order to keep herself from being overwhelmed, Susan put her jumpsuit on, leaving the armor aside. The boy had bruises everywhere, injuries calling to her body and mind to be healed.

Joni made a sudden realization as Susan stepped up next to his sister. “You’re almost as short as Trina. How are you going to hold me any higher than I could hold her.”

Susan gathered from his words and actions that Trina was his sister. Trina flushed as Susan studied the girl. “Actually, your sister is about an inch taller than me. Put your feet in my hands and trust me.”

“I’m not clean.” Joni said.

“I come form a world covered in muck and mud, a little dust from the ground isn’t going to bother me too much.” Susan said.

Susan felt his feet step into her hand, the large awkward feet of a boy who was about to shift from puberty to manhood. She lifted him off the ground, balancing him much like one balances a broom in one’s palm. Holding him high in the air, her arms fully extended over her head. Joni’s head was within six inches from the ceiling because of the extra footage that Susan afforded by being able to hold him at arm’s length above her. He had a light body, the result of a limited diet, Susan guessed, but he was also spry and lanky, a hint of his full potential.

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