Home Again

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One:

 

“A skeptic is one who is willing to question any truth claim, asking for clarity in definition,

consistency in logic, and adequacy of evidence.”

—Paul Kurtz—

 

They flew home feeling the long sigh that settled in the gut when a task had at last been fulfilled. There were no regrets, though they had inklings of sadness that their carefree days were over… as if they had ever been carefree, but relatively so considering the future that lie ahead. Zormna Clendar and Jafarr Zeldar were coming home to stay, bringing with them the last vestiges of their former life on Earth to ensure they would not forget the friends they had to leave behind.  

But they had to leave it behind. Though only eighteen, Jafarr was the newly elected president of Arras, despite the fact that he didn’t want it. And at fifteen, Zormna was the queen-inherit… hoping to release herself from those bonds as soon as possible—to abdicate the throne she had just newly acquired to a more democratic ruling, the first in over ten thousand years on their world. Though, she was thinking more of angling towards a republic, as rule of law was better than the rule of a mob. They had quite enough of the aristocratic caste-divided society that had ruled and oppressed them. Still, to leave that lush world of Earth, so alive and thriving, and return to their desert home world of Arras (Mars as it was best known to outsiders) was a wrench to both teenagers. And when they flew into the atmosphere of the planet, Zormna let out an audible sigh.

“Homesick already?” Jafarr asked, tilting his head and leaning forward in his seat toward Zormna who was piloting the spacecraft.

She huffed. “Not homesick. Just sorry.”

He also sighed and leaned back. “Me too.”

They soared over the desert towards the enormous canyon that cut across the equator of their planet. She steered the ship into the canyons for one last free ride through the walls.

“Do you think they’ll have a welcoming party for us? We did leave without telling anyone, and you know how the Kevin has been getting lately,” Jafarr said.

Shrugging with a trace of a moan, Zormna replied, “I’m sure he’ll have some lecture ready for us. ‘You are a queen now with responsibilities. You can’t go gallivanting around in your ships anymore without telling anyone.’ I’m sure he’ll get Salvar to join him so I’ll feel thoroughly guilty. He’ll probably try to confine me to quarters or something.”

“Confine you to quarters?” Jafarr laughed at the idea, peering out the window through his blacker than black hair as they came upon the canyon wall where the docking bay was set. “Zormna, you’re the queen. He may be the Kevin, but you hold more authority than him now. You could confine him to quarters if you wished it.”

That thought invoked an amused snort from Zormna as her eyes tracked the canyon walls. “Don’t be stupid, Jafarr. Me, confine the Kevin?”

“Well, he can’t order you about anymore. Your position as queen outmodes your rank as an Alea in the Surface Patrol… and that outranks him too.” He really hoped she understood this. Though Zormna was intelligent, it was easy to fall back into old mores and forget oneself. Certain things triggered her to forget. She was still rather sensitive to her environment and the people in it.

Jafarr braced himself for the landing. Though Zormna was also a talented pilot, her flying was often abrupt, as was her landing, and they had been flying too fast as usual—which would consequently result in some whiplash if he was not careful.

They did fly into the docking bay uncomfortably fast, but they landed sweetly on the ground without the slightest jolt. Zormna smirked as she unbuckled her belts and glanced at Jafarr from over the seat, knowing what he was thinking.

He let out a relieved sigh and followed her lead.

Pressing the button to open the hatch, Zormna stood up and folded down her seat. Both of them removed their helmets, propping them onto the ship’s top. Jafarr stepped onto the back of the seat she folded down then folded his down. Behind his seat was a long hollow cargo hold. It did not hold very much, but fitted inside this one were a handful of cardboard boxes taped up and labeled. One was long, containing a number of stringed instruments from Earth in their cases, each of which Jafarr was skilled at playing. He climbed inside and started to pull the boxes out, handing them to Zormna. Working as a team, she took them and placed them on top of the hatch next to their helmets, receiving the others. There were only five—three for Jafarr and two for Zormna, though the ones for Jafarr were labeled Jeff, and Zormna’s were marked with a big Z as if Zorro had swooped in with a black marker and struck every side of the box. 

When Jafarr climbed out of the cargo hold, he folded the chair back up and looked up at Zormna who was balancing two boxes on her bent leg like an expert.

“Are you sure you got everything from that house that you wanted?” he asked, knowing she had left behind sentimental items which she would never use again, from her old cheer uniform to all the nice kitchenware her great aunt had left to her. “Because we can take a trip back sometime… if you want.”

“I’m sure.” She nodded with a sigh. It had been a struggle, actually. She had taken one favorite cup and left all crystal. She just could not imagine where she would use them. Zormna then glanced over the edge of the cockpit and let out a moan.

“What is it?” Jafarr asked, now folding up the other seat. He slid over the front seat to climb out of the cockpit after the other boxes.

Zormna grimaced painfully and jerked her head towards the docking bay door leading into the Surface Patrol compound. “Looks like our welcoming party has arrived.”

Indeed, it had. Jafarr peered down at the scene and groaned. Down below contained not only a handful of irritable looking Surface Patrol officers but also an orderly set of people in starch-crisp suits of matching vanilla. Each of their faces were carved with stern expressions similar to that of disapproving teachers and administrators with a thin layer of post-office consternation. He recognized none of them.

“Who are they?” she whispered to him.

“I don’t know,” Jafarr replied. “But we’ll be finding out soon enough. Here, hand me those boxes and you slide the rest down the wing to me when I get on to the ground.”

Zormna nodded, still keeping her eye on the approaching groups of soldiers-in-arms and stuffy-looking civilians.

Jafarr climbed down the steps that popped open on the wing, carrying the first box. He placed it on the ground at his feet once he reached the smooth rock floor. He waved up to Zormna to send the rest down. She reached in her ship and pressed a button, sealing up the stairs so they rested flat in the wings again. She slid the first box on the wing down to him.

“Queen Zormna!” one of the crisp-looking civilians called out. It was a woman who had a rather angular nose, though not unattractive or beaky. She called with a somewhat stern tone of voice, reminding both teens again of a strict schoolmarm.

Catching the first box, Jafarr waved for the second one to be sent, placing that box next to his first.

“You can unload your ship later. We need to speak with you,” the woman said, lifting her chin as if Zormna had not seen her the first time and she were peering over a large crowd rather than leading a group of people.

Zormna slid down the second box then picked up the last one. “Hold on a second.”

Jafarr masked a laugh with a cough, catching the second box and waiting for the third.

“It cannot wait even a second,” the woman declared, her voice going shriller, crisper than before.

This time Zormna coughed a laugh and shook her head, sliding down the last box, watching it with her eye to make sure Jafarr caught it. She reached into her ship and pressed the stair button again to release the steps. Then she stepped out onto them, leaning over the shield to type in her door code. The shield slid shut and locked with a series of beeps. Then she simply hopped off the side of the ship and landed on the ground with satisfaction.

“Your Highness!” the woman exclaimed, now rushing forward as if Zormna had done the unthinkable. The others in the civilian group looked just as alarmed, though the Surface Patrol officers appeared amused as they watched the group become overexcited.

“You could have been killed! Do you not know how dangerous that is?” the woman exclaimed, grabbing a hold of Zormna’s wrists and pawing her, peering over her queen as if she were made of glass and she was looking for cracks.

Sharply shaking the woman off, Zormna stepped back. “Excuse me! Who are you, and why are you groping me?”

“You took a dangerous leap!” that woman exclaimed; yet she pulled her hands back now, seeing how Zormna disapproved.

Huffing, Zormna tromped over to Jafarr who was working hard to hide his amused smirk by pretending to search for a hover platform to carry their boxes. The boxes they brought were rather hefty. Zormna joined him, squatting down to pick up a box with a shake of her head.

“No!” the woman exclaimed immediately. She clapped her hands and called to several people in the group. These people dashed forward at once and lifted all four boxes, some of them struggling from the weight as one was filled with books. Zormna gazed at her and then the people who were taking hers and Jafarr’s things, looking a little dazed. But after a few seconds she made a face, propping her hands on her hips.

“You know, I’m not a weakling. I can carry my own boxes,” Zormna told them with a glare.

Jafarr coughed and leaned over to her, whispering, “Don’t knock it. It means we don’t have to dig up a carrying platform.”

Zormna was about to snap back a retort, but the civilian woman eyed Jafarr sharply, her chin uplifted with a self-sense of dignity as she spoke. “Indeed. Her Highness should not be burdened with menial labors anymore. Now that she has come into her own, she must be properly cared for and treated—and guided.”

“Who are you?” Zormna instinctively recoiled as she inspected the woman with a distasteful eye.

Jafarr also stared at the woman, though his expression remained mildly blank while he attentively observed the woman as her word choice expressed a point-of-view he was not so sure he agreed with.

The woman bowed at her waist and lowered her eyes graciously. All the others behind her bowed likewise—a sight that automatically made Zormna uncomfortable. She hated when people genuflected.

The woman said, “I am Klii Hoiipa, elected Social Work Class advisor for the queen. And these with me are the selected advisors of the Royal Council.”

The word council triggered an even darker sensation in Zormna’s gut. In the old government, councils were groups of people that issued judgment in their courts. In her former life on Arras, before she came to Earth, she had stood in front of many councils that mandated judgment on her in punishment for naughty things she did and didn’t do. She had not won one case. She didn’t know anyone who did win against a council.

“Who dictated that I needed a private council to judge me?” Zormna automatically seethed, clenching her fists.

Paling, the woman faltered, looking up. “Oh, no. No, no, no… We are not that kind of council. We…” She took in Zormna’s fury, and she immediately appeared less crisp and more unprepared.  “I apologize,” the woman bowed lower, now bending to the ground. “That is not what we meant. Forgive us, Your Highness. We merely are aids to the queen’s transition into her duties.”

But Zormna cringed more. The woman’s bowing was even more offensive than all the talk.

“For pity’s sake, get up!” Zormna grabbed hold of the woman’s shirt and lifting her to her feet. “Do not bow to me! Do not even call me ‘Your Highness’, and for pity’s sake explain what is going on? I have every intention of abdicating the throne to the people.”

Less crisp and this time not as proud, the woman not look Zormna in the eye as she said, “But you can’t.”

“Why in blazes, can’t I?” Zormna snapped back, looking likely to stomp her foot like a child in a temper tantrum rather than slap the woman, though Jafarr thought she was resisting that urge also.

Jafarr stood back and watched, allowing Zormna to handle this on her terms as she liked. He was ignored actually, by this woman and her crew. The woman considered only Zormna and spoke to only Zormna. Not that it bothered him, but it put him in a position to watch as a spectator rather than a participant—giving him a more objective point of view. It occurred to him that something odd had happened when they had taken their short trip to Earth, and he wondered what.

“You cannot because the people do not wish it,” the woman declared.

Zormna’s mouth fell open in a gape.

“When you left with our elected president,” the woman said, now regarding Jafarr for the first time, “so unexpectedly, without a word, the people became immediately concerned for your welfare.”

Snorting, Zormna glanced at Jafarr as if to ask him if he could believe what he was hearing. He just shrugged.

“But long before that, the people have expressed a wish that you to remain their queen,” the woman said.

Those words were a bit of shock to her and made Zormna pause. She stared at the woman, leaning in a bit. “What?”

Emitting a sigh that sounded more like her old crisp schoolmarmish self, the woman explained, “The people expressed almost unanimously that they wish for you remain their leader—alongside the president.”

Zormna instinctively stepped nearer to Jafarr, speechless. She glanced to him; a degree unnerved at his silence. Already Zormna could decipher his mind concerning the people and their desire. Jafarr’s will always bent towards what the people wanted, as he wasn’t so much a leader of the rebellion as the servant of those within the rebellion. He made final decisions, but he did a lot of listening to his cohorts first. It was the one kind of peer pressure he could not stand up against. That was why he had accepted the position as President even when his true desire was to be an ambassador to Earth. He always put his wants second, which had surprised her once she realized this about him. And unfortunately, that meant he would also lean towards their will in regards to this. She would find no protection in him from this new thing. Not from the People’s will.

“The people want me to stay queen?” Zormna said with the desperate hope the woman was only joking. She was a soldier. It was all she really knew. What did she know about ‘queening’?

The woman bowed with a nod.

Zormna swallowed, grieving her lost freedom. “And you are…?”

“Klii Hoiipa, elected advisor for the queen,” the woman said again.

Though familiar with responsibility, as she had once been the head Alea of the Zeta district of the Surface Patrol; and though she was the last all Tarrns (the royal class of an ancient age long gone), she stared at the woman feeling the heavy weight of that ancient prophecy fall on her shoulders once again like sandbags. It was a terrible weight. Her life on Earth as a fifteen-year-old teenager in a simple high school was feeling even more like something she had merely dreamed. Zormna had honestly hoped she had fulfilled of the responsibility as ‘savior to her people’, fully ready to go back to being an Alea (a job she had deeply loved) now that the rebellion was over. For pity’s sake; they had unseated the High Class and banished them to a distant yet habitable planet. Their adversaries and oppressors were gone. She even tried to ensure her freedom by setting up elections for president so she would not have to rule. What else did she need to do?

But here it was. Her people insisted that she rule—just like the people did to her ancient Tarrn ancestor Zeldar Tarrn, the first of all ruling Tarrns. It was horrid history repeating itself. And what could she do about it? Her people insisted. And Jafarr would support what they wanted.

“I see,” Zormna said in a hushed voice.

She glanced at Jafarr one last time, seeking some way out. However, he actually looked equally dismayed. He frowned over at their cardboard boxes. Turning to her with a sigh and a shrug, he said, “You should have expected it.”

“Did you?” Zormna asked mildly, though there was a trace of an accusatory glare left over from their earlier, less friendly, relationship.

Jafarr winced and shrugged, nodding a little. “I thought it was a possibility.”

She did not want to hear that. Zormna moaned. Gathering herself again, squaring her shoulders to her full five-feet to brace herself against the future, she huffed peevishly. Turning, she glared at Klii Hoiipa. “So, do I call you Klii or Hoiipa?”

The woman advisor bowed again with renewed strength. She waved her arm to the side as though she were directing Zormna. “You may call me First Klii.”

“First Klii?” Zormna said, slowly stepping into the midst of the people carrying hers and Jafarr’s boxes. “Does that mean there is a second Klii around here?”

The woman laughed. It was not the sort of laugh that made the listener feel good though. It sounded like a woman laughing at a simpleton—too high and adult—and it grated on both teenagers’ ears. Jafarr rolled his eyes and followed Zormna as she walked among the crisp-suited attendants.

“No, no. But my title is First. Your Second is Miia here. You would call her Second Miia,” First Klii said.

Zormna smirked irritably at Miia, who blushed as if honored and embarrassed at the same time.

“Is there a third?” Zormna asked with sarcasm.

The soldiers nearby chuckled. First Klii cast them a chilly glare.

“No.” The woman’s voice was sharp. “The organization has first and second advisers, then there are the ladies in waiting…”

“Waiting for what?” Zormna murmured.

The nearby Surface Patrol officer snickered again. First Klii ignored them. As Jafarr watched and listened with a smirk, he kept glancing back at the soldiers who had come with the civilians. They were still standing at attention, waiting.

First Klii looked like she wanted to pat Zormna on the head, as if her queen were a simple schoolgirl in pigtails. She did not, which was wise. If she had, Zormna would probably have twisted her arm and flipped her onto her back. Rather, the woman continued to explain the new group of advisers to her with that same sanctimonious air. “Above the advisors and ladies in waiting, is the Main Council that will see to things working properly for her Highness…”

“I said for you to quit calling me Highness,” Zormna snapped back. Each step she took was like she was being walked toward some chasm.

First Klii ignored Zormna’s terse reply. “They will be gathering all useful tools and information to ease your transition into your new position.”

Zormna frowned. They had walked through the group to the door, and Zormna had found all the new civilian attendants following her. It made her even more uncomfortable. So much so that she looked for Jafarr. His face was lost in the crowd.

Her heart raced. “Jafarr?”

“I’m still here,” he said, pressing through the crowd now. Jafarr passed through the crisp suits and stepped to her side with a sigh. Planting his feet down, he glanced at First Klii who had given him only a smidgen of a dark glare when he arrived beside their queen.

Stepping up to him, Zormna said, “I want you to go and confirm all this. I want proof the people actually want me to be stuck in this position.”

Nodding, Jafarr then bowed slightly with a cringe. “Okay.”

“Don’t you start bowing at me,” Zormna snapped, making a face, her cheeks coloring. “It’s bad enough coming from her,” she said, thumbing towards First Klii who was visibly alarmed at being regarded so casually.

Jafarr noticed the woman’s expression. His amused grin leaked out.

“OK,” he said again to Zormna, nearly laughing at her bad temper.

Tense, Zormna turned once again from him and took two steps into the hall. Then she stopped and spun around again. “Where are we going anyway?”

Jafarr glanced at First Klii, who was looking pleased once again. She stepped forward. The entire entourage followed her, brushing past Jafarr as if he were merely a pillar in the room.

“We are going to take you to your new home in the Uppercity,” First Klii said.

Immediately, their young queen huffed and looked over First Klii’s head to Jafarr. “Jafarr! Did you know about this?”

He shook his head and shrugged a little stiffer. “No, but I suspected it.”

First glaring accusatorily at him for not letting her in on all those nitty things he suspected might happen, Zormna then rounded on First Klii again. “Uppercity my eye. Why can’t I stay in the Patrol?”

The woman at once went back into her bowing posture, taking care as she explained much like a humble servant would to a temperamental queen that… “You are royalty. Your place should be near the capitol and not in a cramped soldier accommodation….” Etc. Etc. Etc…...

Zormna kept casting Jafarr glares as if it was entirely his fault for not telling her all the possibilities that might happen to her once she became queen. He wordlessly replied to her glares with rolls of the eye and huffs that said she was being ridiculous and thick if she had not figured it out on her own what might happen to her.

Midway through the lecture from First Klii, which neither of them really paid any attention to as it was mostly fluff and political blather, Zormna threw back her head and folded her arms in a huff. “Fine! Fine! I’ll go to your stupid Uppercity accommodations—but don’t expect me to be happy about this. I want to see the Kevin and have a word with him after we arrive there. Hopefully we’ll get to the bottom of this insanity.”

Of course, this was not the reply any of these folk had expected from their queen. First Klii had stiffened. However, as the queen had finally acquiesced, the woman at least was pleased to see that her queen was willing to go. First Klii briskly ordered the attendants with her to follow them down the hall to the front gates where they had a transport waiting for them. Jafarr traipsed after them, not quite sure how things had ended up like this. He was half-amused, half-puzzled. It was clear something he had not been able to account for had happened while they had been gone. They both had honestly thought it had been a brief trip, safe to take. And yet he knew he could not predict all the paths and choices his people would make once the High Class were gone.

For Zormna, the walk through the Surface Patrol Alpha district compound was arduous. Like with Jafarr, she had not been able to predict this outcome. She had hoped that she was coming home to the home she loved most. But no, she would only pass through it and go to a new home with a new bed that no doubt she would be unable to sleep on for weeks because she could never sleep in an unfamiliar place. But the worst part was seeing old faces of friends who wished to greet her, embrace her and welcome her back as one of them, only to see them shoved aside and guarded from by the stuffy, uptight schoolmarm First Klii. More and more as they walked through her old haunts to the gate, an ugly dread filled her. More than once Zormna wished she had never returned from Earth and that she had remained living in Pennington in the old house her great aunt had left her. She had gotten used to that bed.

When they reached the doors, Jafarr decided it was time to retrieve his boxes. He strode through the group and tapped on the shoulder the crisply-dressed attendants that were holding them.

“Those are mine, thank you,” he said.

The attendants stuffed them into his arms irritably. Jafarr placed them on top of one another on the ground. He smirked at Zormna as they loaded her boxes into a pristine white vehicle with plush seats.

“You get in too,” the Surface Patrol officer behind Jafarr said.

“Wha…?” Jafarr turned with a laugh, looking at the man who had spoken. One of the soldiers in the troop who met them in the docking bay stared back. First Klii was glaring at them, but most especially at Jafarr, waiting on a seat across from where Zormna saw down with an irritable huff.

“You are the president and her bodyguard. You must go with her to the Uppercity. Your new accommodations will be near Queen Zormna’s,” the Alea said.

Jafarr blinked at him for a second, bending to pick up a box. “Are you serious?”

The soldier gazed sternly at him as if he had not an inkling of a sense of humor.

Thumbing back towards the gates, Jafarr told him, “I’m going back to my apartment in the undercity. I don’t mind working as your President as a day job—but I’ve got a home already, thank you.”

Yet the Alea stepped forward and commanded his men to pick up Jafarr’s boxes. One had to wrench the box out of Jafarr’s hands. Jafarr would have fought for it, but in the end, he decided to give the box up for lost to avoid a damaging the contents.

“It is inappropriate for the President to live in the undercity,” the Alea stated. “As you well know, even the president of that country you had been living in on Partha does not live in his original home, but in a government home where he can do his work.”

Jafarr swayed on his feet, struck by those obvious facts. He knew it was right. But like Zormna, he had hoped to start where he had left off, with a few minor changes. Huffing audibly, he tromped over to the clean transport platform where Zormna watching him from the back seat without a word. It wasn’t a Surface Patrol shuttle, which would have been safer, but one of those High Class showy roofless touring cars which only the wealthy had ever used, and only in the Uppercity. When he climbed in and sat down next to her, Zormna leaned near him and whispered in his ear. “You didn’t see that one coming, did you?”

He slumped in his seat and folded his arms grumpily. It was so unlike him to sulk that Zormna smirked at him, glancing once at First Klii. That woman still held her schoolmarm-like stance with an added smug expression on her face as if Jafarr was behaving exactly as she expected.

The vehicle rumbled out of the open Surface Patrol gates, going into the tunnels to take them to their new home.

Jafarr mellowed out by the time they passed through the Surface Patrol passages to the Surface Gate and merged into the traffic of the multilevel commerce center of their underground city. He mused silently, thinking over what other changes and restrictions might be placed on him and Zormna now that they were important government officials. When the vehicle slowed to a turn—a turn, had Zormna been piloting the craft, they could have taken at much quicker speeds and barely grazed the walls—Jafarr noticed that the people outside in the hall were bowing and standing reverently, watching them. Some people cheered.

First Klii seemed to be enjoying the attention. She lifted her head so that it maintained a noble angle much akin to that of a High Class citizen. Both Zormna and Jafarr gazed darkly at her, exchanging looks, nearly mentally trading thoughts on the situation. They were much of the same mind. Zormna grew extremely disconcerted by all the attention, while Jafarr kept peering out at the crowds to see if he could find someone he knew to get some added help. Luckily for him, he saw one.

“Al!” Jafarr stood up in the platform and yelled in a manner that startled First Klii. Grinning and waving, he caught the attention of a tall figure in the crowd who quickly grinned and waved back.

“Sit down! It is not dignified!” First Klii snapped at him—the first words she ever spoke to him at all.

Zormna choked on a laugh, not at Jafarr but the woman. She covered her grin with her hand, especially as Jafarr ignored the woman.

“Al! Find Orrlar for me, would you?” Jafarr barked over the noise of the crowd.

The tall blond youth waved back, gave him a thumbs-up, and then an OK sign. Jafarr sat down at once, feeling more satisfied with his situation.

“What kind of ill-mannered man are you?” First Klii snapped, her face apoplectic with indignity. “You could use some etiquette lessons.”

With a glance at Zormna who was barely smothering her laughs, Jafarr snorted. He understood all that the woman implied in her wording, though—meaning Zormna would be forced to take such lessons as part of her queenly training. Whether Zormna noticed this or not, he couldn’t tell. What he could tell was that Zormna was equally relieved that he had made contact with a friend, so much that she was more able to settle herself to this trip without feeling as oppressed. It was a win-win.

“What kind of ill-mannered man am I? I thought you knew,” Jafarr smirked back.

First Klii’s expression went darker than ever. “I would have thought that a half-blood seer would at least have some semblance of manners.”

Zormna stopped grinning. Her eyes fixed hard on the woman. “Look who’s talking. What does blood have to do with anything?”

Hearing her, the woman’s cheeks quickly flushed. She bowed humbly to Zormna. “My apologies. I was merely thinking about his upbringing. His behavior is unsuitable for a leader of men so prominent in view.”

“Really?” Jafarr broke into a laugh. “Then they should not have elected me.”

The woman had not ceased bowing to Zormna, but she still did not look kindly on Jafarr. She let out a sigh that said she was enduring a lot. “You are to stand tall as a leader. But undoubtedly you feel abruptness and frankness is preferable to tact and decorum.”

He shook his head. Leaning toward the woman, he said, “Indeed tact and decorum are good in their proper place. But need dictates that I claim allies before Zormna and I are dragged off to who knows where. You came with soldiers at your heels, and with news we have not yet confirmed. At this present moment, decorum is the last thing on my mind. The first thing is Zormna’s safety. Understand?”

He didn’t realize that First Klii was cowering until that moment. Jafarr had never personally considered himself a frightening visage, but then he had never been bullied by himself and did not have to look into his scarred face or is dark threatening, fathomless eyes when he was angry… and at that moment he was incensed. Coming to himself, Jafarr sat down next to Zormna and resumed to just glare mildly at First Klii.

“As for my upbringing,” Jafarr spoke more plainly, regaining his composure, “my Seer Class blood has no claim on manners, but on knowledge. My manners come from my Zeldar line—and I think they are fit enough for what I have to do.”

He glanced once at Zormna who was nearly beamed at him, admiring everything he had just done. This was the person she had entrusted her life with.

Silence answered him as the woman’s eyes flickered from Jafarr to the queen.

The flying craft turned, entering the opening of the transit tunnel leading to the Uppercity. They rode in that silence for several minutes—no one saying a word. The only sounds were the hum of the engine and some breathing. It was not until half-way through the tunnel that First Klii finally broke the silence.

“Well, it seems that the texts are not wrong when they say Zeldars are opinionated.”

There was no point to refute that, Jafarr decided. Being opinionated was not an issue. Everyone was entitled to one, he believed. Besides, as the texts went—he having memorized them in his school studies and knew most of them word for word—that was the least offensive remark made about his ancestors within them. They had been called treacherous, unscrupulous filth. ‘A thorn in the side of peace’ a famous poet once said. A virus, by some of ancient rulers of the High Class. An irremovable wart, by social- reconstructionists. And most recently, vermin. Never mind that Zeldars were of royal blood the same as Tarrns.

Jafarr nodded to her. “So?”

First Klii narrowed her eyes and smiled, nodding back to him with her first real regard since she first saw him.

 

They arrived in the Uppercity five minutes later. Uppercity traffic had entirely changed from before the revolution. There were more Middlecity and undercity vehicles in the area as the entire Uppercity had been stripped of its High Class citizens and corroborators and banished to another world without tech. People from the Middlecity and Undercity had been moving into their apartments and taking over their business establishments. Much of it was also under reconstruction as the Uppercity had also been a major war zone.

Their flight craft took them through most of the major flightways. Jafarr and Zormna both recognized where they were headed once they entered the High District—a place in the Uppercity filled with open air parks that had chemical fountains that displayed light color and jets of colored liquid shooting through clear tubular sculptures. The last time they had been in this place, there were barricades and they were exchanging laser fire with the People’s Military outside the doors of the Great Hall. Since that time most of the scorch marks had been scoured off and the buildings were looking pristine once again. Though, some scars still remained from the battle and would remain until the end of the city itself. Some people had suggested filling them with gold.

Here they landed.

First Klii briskly stepped out of the machine and lifted her chin to get a good look around herself. However, Jafarr got the impression that she was also sucking in deep satisfaction at being official-looking in such a prominent place with important things to do. Zormna climbed off after her, though when she looked around, she sighed with an annoyed huff, clearly disgruntled with the situation. She would have been happier somewhere dirtier… or obviously back at the Surface Patrol barracks. The Uppercity gave her the creeps, which Jafarr understood. She glanced back at Jafarr who was climbing out of the vehicle looking slightly less annoyed than she did. He sighed as he gazed up at the building that he was guessing would be their new home.

Hardly a block away from the Great Hall stood the former housing complex for the old Ruling Council and the Great Head. Undoubtedly those apartments once had been the old living quarters of the ancient Queen Zormna which had long since been converted to hold more people and no longer in the image of the ancient Tarrn chambers. The housing complex itself was clean and tall, reaching the sky panels of the cavern. The outside façade was as white and clean as the open park and perhaps the most beautiful building on Arras—but that was not saying much since Arrassian buildings in the underground city were never much to look at. They were all plainly adorned and blockish, every last one of them. The beauty was in the stone.

“Marvelous, isn’t it?” First Klii said, noticing both Zormna and Jafarr’s gazes upward at the building.

Zormna said nothing as she continued to stare at the white marble, grimly accepting her fate. But Jafarr lowered his eyes to the doorway where the old national insignia was being torn down and replaced with a new one. The workers were still attaching the new plain symbol of their ancient nation, this one that no longer having the quote from the Creed of Tharser on it. The words ‘everyone is born with a purpose. Everyone is born into a place.’ had been in broken bits on the cold stone. Seeing it, Jafarr smiled. It was a step in the right direction at least.

“Look.” Jafarr tugged on Zormna’s elbow, pointing.

She looked. Blinking at the broken letters, a similar smirk spread across her lips. She breathed a little easier. “Good.”

Zormna then stepped towards the doors to inspect the change herself. First Klii followed but her expression did not reveal as much pleasure.  

Heading to the doors, flanked by the civilian entourage and the Surface Patrol escort that carried Jafarr’s boxes still, both Zormna and Jafarr examined the work on the sign more closely.

When they got as close as a yard away, one of the men working there saw them. He nearly fell on his face in a bow.

Automatically annoyed, Zormna stepped back then turned to Jafarr. “Jafarr, would you get him up?”

Since the start of the war, Zormna had found it nearly impossible to stop people from bowing at her by herself. No one seemed to listen to her when she begged them to stop, for some dumb reason. So, used to this, Jafarr nodded with a smirk and knelt down to lift the worker back onto his feet. But when Jafarr looked at the worker’s face, his eyes lit up. A surprised grin spread across his face. “Well, I’ll be! Ber’sak K’renn! So nice to see you!”

Jafarr turned toward Zormna, embracing the fair-haired, balding tubby man with one arm, standing tall next to him. The man appeared to be in the middle of his life, a little dazed and overwhelmed by this greeting.

“Zormna! This is my old boss, Ber’sak K’renn,” Jafarr enthusiastically introduced them. “I had my first job under him.”

Smiling with relief and intrest, Zormna bowed to the man, an act that unsettled the man even more. Zormna extended her hand to Ber’sak. “It is nice to meet you.”

Jafarr nudged him to take Zormna’s hand, but Ber’sak shrank as if someone would strike him down if he touched her. The man’s eyes were on First Klii who glared something awful as if she would do the striking.

“It’s ok.” Jafarr encourage him. “It is a common Parthan tradition to greet an individual by gripping their hand and giving it a firm shake.”

“Strange tradition,” the man replied, still shrinking back.

Observing his discomfort, Zormna reached out and took his hand instead. When she shook it, Ber’sak stared at her as if electrified. And yet, a pleased and embarrassed grin spread across his face as he looked into her earnest stare. He then stared at her pale hand as if it were porcelain in his large dirty grip. He cradled it just as delicately.

“It is indeed a pleasure to meet you,” Zormna said again. “Jafarr told me much about you. He said you were an honorable man.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty,” Ber’sak replied breathlessly.

Zormna winced at those two words. She pulled him closer by the hand and said plainly for him to hear, “Please, call me Zormna. I’d rather not hear ‘Your Majesty’ if you don’t mind.”

First Klii growled with a step forward them between them. “As much as this is good human relations, we must be on our way.”

“Must we?” Zormna turned with a huff, reluctantly letting go of Ber’sak’s hand… which he could feel.

The woman nodded pertly, insisting.

“Fine,” Zormna peevishly replied. Yet she turned from the man with a respectful nod to him.

Amazed if not enamored, Ber’sak stared after her, Jafarr still at his side. He was sighing. As Zormna was being led into the building, he looked to Jafarr, whose continued presence caused him to reflexively chuckle. He shook his head. “Well, Mr. President, I must say I did not expect you to remember me. But this…” He sighed meaningfully. “…Meeting her.” He sighed again. “I will never forget this day, or wash that hand.”

Jafarr nearly broke into a laugh, yet he stopped it with a simple smile at his old employer. Unfortunately, the near Surface Patrol officers were urging him to continue on his way. He ignored them, turning to the man who had once taken him under his wing. “Ber’sak, I think it will be safe to wash that hand. I’m sure if Zormna sees you again, she’ll remember you and speak with you once more—perhaps even shake your hand again if that old grouch would let her.”

Ber’sak blushed excitedly at the thought. “Oh, no. I doubt that. I’m only Labor Class. She is a Tarrn. I’m certainly below her notice.”

Something in that, rubbed Jafarr backwards. Automatically he rolled his eyes… and for that matter so did the other Surface Patrol officers listening in.

“Trust me,” Jafarr said before finally stepping through the front doors at the urging of the soldiers behind him. “Zormna does not consider anyone below her notice. As for your caste—don’t worry about that either. If Zormna and I have our way, we’ll be blowing the Creed of Tharser to the wind, and you won’t have to hear squat about what caste you are again.”

Those words rippled through both Ber’sak K’renn and the workers with him. Amazed, and hopeful, the man bowed reverently to Jafarr, watching the soldiers grumble again at their new president to hurry on and to quit lagging.

“I’m hurrying already, Scrapes,” Jafarr snapped back, still the boy yet definitely a new man.  

Friends, Foes, and Concessions

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two:

 

The lion and the lamb shall lie down together, but the lamb will not be very sleepy. —Woody Allen—

 

 

First Klii did not wait for Jafarr, but it was not like she needed to. The soldiers urging the young man knew where they were going, and they soon directed him to his new living quarters down the same hall where Zormna had been led. He knew it was the same hall because several members of the civilian entourage still stood in the hallway. He could also hear Zormna’s irate voice echoing.

“I am not staying here!” she shrieked.

Jafarr walked more briskly to her door and peered into the room where First Klii was standing like a bossy aunt and Zormna actually looked her age for once—like a sulky fifteen-year-old having a fit. She was red in the face, fists clenched, and her boxes were now resting on the floor next to her.

“Is anything wrong?” he asked, stepping into the room. He peered around as if checking to see if the coast was clear.

Zormna folded her arms tight across her chest. “This place used to be home of the Great Head! I’m not sleeping in his old apartment!”

“Oh…” Jafarr gazed about the room with a little more curiosity. He had never broken into the uppercity apartments before when he had been in the rebellion, so this was something new.

“This place also used to be the personal chamber of the ancient queen and king. It is your inherited home,” First Klii said quite firmly.

Zormna’s eyes narrowed even more, her irritation swelling.

Sensing she was about to blow a gasket, Jafarr strode across the room, examining the open space and basic furniture and shrugged nonchalantly. “His personal things are gone…”

“The Great Head, if you’ve forgotten, killed himself in our last battle. This room is probably haunted,” Zormna growled back at him, not appreciating his flippancy. “Who cares if his things are gone?”

Jafarr shrugged again, trying to diffuse the tense situation as he said, “Well, the ancient queen and king were murdered in the Great Hall—and they’re not haunting it. This room is fine.”

Detecting his humor, Zormna glared at him. She didn’t like him joking at a time like this. And though she realized that it was a coping mechanism he had picked up from Brian Henderson, she wanted him a little more serious in that moment.

“So, where am I stuck,” Jafarr asked, looking around as if that was that.

With a narrower glare on him, First Klii replied, “You are next door.”

He turned back with a smirk and an eyebrow-lifted nod to her. “That close, huh? No doubt that really irks you.”

The woman did not respond as her jaw tightened, her eyes raking over his face as if every piece of it offended her.

But Jafarr did not let that bother him. He headed back out the apartment, peering down the hall where only three Surface Patrol officers stood, the rest having remained in the outside cavern. He weighed his words as he inquired flippantly, “Which way? Right or left.”

First Klii still did not respond.

But the soldier outside did. The Alea waved his arm to the right. So Jafarr turned, searching for the door. Zormna followed after him, wondering why he was acting so casually. Yet, because Zormna moved, First Klii followed her. The woman shared a quick look with her second, alarmed at Zormna’s immediate curiosity at where Jafarr would be staying… which was what she had assumed. Jafarr’s door was just a short distance away with nothing in between her room and his, which clearly did not settle well with the woman.

However, Jafarr was pleased. At least they would let him do his predestined duty as protector. It had been his one concern since the welcoming party met them in the docking bay. His instincts had shouted that a political coup was afoot, and he didn’t want to alarm Zormna until he was sure of it. At least now he knew that had been false.

He pressed the door button to open it and entered straight away.

“You’ll have to put in your own door code,” the Alea informed Jafarr, following him inside the room.

Jafarr repressed his reply that ‘it goes without saying’…. Of course, he would input his own door code. He’d hack the security system once they were gone and set up a better one for himself and Zormna. This entire situation felt off. And though they had won the war, Jafarr could tell there were battles that still needed to be fought to get their nation in the right order. Protecting Zormna was still his top priority.

But in order to present a strong façade, Jafarr strode into the apartment and peered around the front room with a display of the same intense curiosity as Zormna. He noticed that his room was not as spacious as hers—but then no room would be as big as the Great Head’s family home. Besides being built for an important figure of their former nation, the family had had three children. His quarters seemed to be built for a bachelor… or just an ordinary bodyguard.

“This works,” Jafarr said, letting out a sigh.

Zormna lingered in the doorway with a decided frown. First Klii hovered a pace behind her like a watchdog.

“Yours is built for one. Lucky. What am I going to do with all the space I’ve got?” Zormna peevishly jerked her head back toward her apartment. “I’ve five rooms in there.”

The Surface Patrol officers that were carrying Jafarr’s boxes strode into his apartment and dutifully set them on the floor, greatly relieved to be free of their burdens—especially the boxes carrying his various instruments. They marched out of the room just as happily and departed back down the hall to go wherever. Peering out after them, Jafarr was glad to be rid of them, as he wasn’t sure who had ordered them to follow him and Zormna in the first place. He then glanced at Zormna who still appeared put-out over the arrangements.

The Alea remained.

“So, are you our door guard, or just mine?” Jafarr asked him, stepping out into the hall.

The Alea snorted disdainfully and turned to First Klii. “I will be waiting in the lobby for the vice president, Madame.” With that, he bowed and walked out.

“Rude, that one,” Jafarr said, angling towards Zormna. He then looked to her. “He wasn’t one of your officers, was he?”

Zormna shook her head, going back into the hallway with a disgusted sigh. “No. Omega—which is probably why he is so grouchy. Alea Brensk is a bit difficult to live with.”

Jafarr stared after the Surface Patrol officer again with a narrower gaze. “So why is an Omega Surface Patrol officer escorting me—or us, or whatever? Wouldn’t you think Alea Arden would have set up our security detail? Or your friend from Zeta would arrange one?”

Wishing Jafarr knew more about the how the Surface Patrol worked, Zormna shot him a weary look. “Zeta is not a military detail district, Jafarr. They don’t provide bodyguards. None of that is in Surface Patrol jurisdiction anyway. While we were gone, they had to have made up some new department.”

“Then…?” Jafarr rolled his hand to lead her on. “Why Omega?”

“I dunno.” Zormna shrugged, glancing about at those who had come with them. “Perhaps it is because Omega is the district I have the least influence… or the least amount of friends. Normally it is Alpha that deals with outside matters, you are right about that. But then those in Alpha would just do as I ask—probably arrange quarters for me there rather than here, instead of… I don’t know, what those advisors want.”

“Which reminds me,” Jafarr glanced at First Klii, who had been glaring at him as if he had no right to stand so close to Zormna, “Where are everyone else? Orrlar, Eergvin, Asdrov, Al—scrapes, even Alea Salvar would be welcome to see.”

As Alea Salvar had been her best friend as a child, Zormna shot him a dirty look. However, she knew what Jafarr meant. Since she and Jafarr had first returned to Arras at the beginning of the revolution, Salvar had hated Jafarr on sight. They had bickered almost every time they had to make decisions, especially in regards to her. However, she didn’t say anything, as she also wanted the question answered. Where were their closest allies?

“The vice president will arrive shortly,” First Klii informed them in her school authority voice again, her eyes dry on Jafarr. “At present, he is in a meeting with the governing board—”

“Governing board?” Zormna and Jafarr said at once, their voices identical in alarm.

The woman swallowed apprehensively, shifting one foot back in preparation, possibly to escape if necessary. Yet she raised her chin and continued to speak informatively. “Yes, the governing board in charge of civic organization. They will be selecting the presidential advisors shortly to conduct—”

“Hold it,” Jafarr interrupted, stepping forward. “We didn’t discuss any governing board—let alone them selecting advisors for me. I want to see Orrlar right now, or we can call this whole presidential thing off, because I won’t do it if someone else is running around setting the terms.”

“Someone other than you?” the woman said in a sharp accusatory tone.

“Someone other than Zormna,” Jafarr barked back, his dark eyes fixing dangerously on her. “Or have you forgotten that she is the queen and not you!”

This set First Klii back. Her eyes whipped to Zormna’s glare again. At once she fell on her face in bow.

“Ah, don’t do that!” Zormna groaned, moving to pull the woman off the floor.

“I am so sorry! If you thought that we were overriding your rule…” First Klii’s voice took on a pathetic begging tone, which Jafarr mentally detected as an act and only barely sincere—one they had put on for the High Class previously as part of a survival mechanism.

Likewise, after seeing and hearing this kind of apologizing and begging for the third time Zormna shot Jafarr a weary look, also doubtful of the sincerity of the act. The melodrama was too much.

“Well, I do think it,” Zormna snapped, still trying to lift the woman off the floor. “But that doesn’t mean you have to cower before me. Get up and face me, for pity’s sake.”

The woman did get up, but she still cowered, casting Jafarr dark looks at the same time. He didn’t miss it. His gaze went drier on her, quietly warning that these antics were getting old, and neither he nor Zormna were duped by it.

“What we both want…” Zormna said in a firm commanding tone, which she reserved for people who were a little thick-in-the-head, “…is for you to get your waiting ladies out of my quarters, and you go and fetch the Kevin and Orrlar Aflov. And for that matter I want Alea Arden as well.”

“But don’t you think—” First Klii hunched pathetically, gazing up like a weary relative rather than a professional… whatever she was.

“You heard me! Go!” Zormna pointed sharply at the door.

First Klii bowed low again and backed down the hall, the other civilians following her. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

And though the woman did leave, she shot Jafarr a final dirty glare as if Zormna’s temper was his fault. When she was gone from sight, Zormna grabbed Jafarr by the arm and pulled him back into his apartment. “What was all that? You walking around and saying… ‘This works?’ Jafarr, why were you playing along? I don’t like this at all. Something strange has happened since we left.”

Jafarr lifted his hands, bowing his head in defeat. “I know. I know. Sorry. I just wanted to get a lay of what was going on at my own pace.”

“What do you think happened?” Zormna met his eyes, graver.

“A coup d'état, you think?” He shrugged.

Zormna shook her head, staring at the floor introspectively. “No….” She kept shaking her head. “But I don’t think things sorted out the way we had planned. Do you think Orrlar has lost some of his influence? We left him in charge of the organizational clean up. We were only gone less than a week. You’d think those we trusted would keep everything on track. They are our allies, for pity’s sake. We were all in agreement. So, how did that council form? It wasn’t in the plans. And where did that governing board come from? If Orrlar is not on it, I’m worried.”

Nodding, Jafarr glanced around the room, thinking. No. None of this was in their plans. Something had gone off. He then shook his head “Fancy aren’t they—our new prison cells?”

She nodded, looking at the room darkly. “Do they think we’re stupid? Something is not right.”

Taking a walk around his new quarters, Jafarr felt around the lights and on the edges of desks. He peered around and under things for a moment then he stood on his toes to peer at the air vents, which were narrow and covered in a fine bolted-in grate.

“I don’t see any bugs,” he said after a while. “Would you mind searching around just in case? I might not have seen all possible places.”

Zormna shook her head and sat down on the nearest chair. “No, Jafarr. I don’t think they are spying on us. I think whoever arranged this are not as thorough as the P.M.s—or the FBI for that matter.” She let out a sigh which turned into a groan. “I think they are sincere in keeping us comfortably here. What worries me is what they are doing out there—what they are trying to keep from our eyes and ears.” She then glanced up at Jafarr with a grateful smile. “It was a good thing you spotted Alzdar. I have a feeling that he was trying to catch your attention. I think he might have our answers.”

With a slow shake of his head, Jafarr peered around at the room again. “The question is, will those fold downstairs let an old rebel in here? Alzdar was never high up in the rebellion—not that influential except in his friends anyway—and I don’t think he got much recognition by the public after the revolution ended. I have a feeling that if I had not been elected president, I would be treated the same way as my old boss outside—poorly.”

Marching over to his boxes to examine them, he pulled out his pocketknife from his jeans pocket and pried the knife open, proceeding to cut the tape that sealed the box shut.  He lifted open the flaps and blew out a resigned breath, staring at the things inside. A pile of random mementos was all he had left of that life. Unfortunately, there was no going back.

Reaching into the box, Jafarr pulled out a wrestling trophy, lifting it up to stare at it. High School state champ. Meaningless now. With a huff, he dropped it onto his bed and reached into the box for more things.

Zormna silently watched him.  

After he unloaded his yearbook and his letterman’s jacket, she said, “So you’re going to settle in?”  

Lifting his eyes to her, coming out of his melancholy reverie, Jafarr sighed with a nod. “What else is there to do while we wait? Until we can think of an escape route from this building, we’re stuck.”

Nodding, Zormna stood up. “I’ll help you unpack. Then you can help me. I don’t want us to be divided when they return.”

Agreeing, Jafarr nodded and took out from the box a mug with a drawing of green cartoon alien with bug eyes and antennas on it. Zormna smirked at it. He walked over and put in on the kitchen counter.

 

Orrlar did not arrive at their apartments until nearly three hours later. And when he did, trailed by the Kevin and Alea Salvar (Alea Arden somehow did not get the message to come) along with the whole slew of First Klii’s attendants as well as First Klii herself, he found both Zormna and Jafarr in her apartment sorting through her books and old homework, laughing at something she wrote for her Biology class to the irritation of Mr. Zeigler—her former Biology teacher. Tears were streaming down from Jafarr’s eyes when they opened the door as Zormna recounted her teacher’s reaction.

“…And then he goes, ‘Did you lose your scientific objectivity.’ Well, I just blinked at him and said something like ‘what?’ because he just stared at me as if I were nuts. Well, anyway, Mr. Zeigler then goes into his tirade about me making derisive marks in his class about evolution—it was the same day you fainted, remember… seeing those bones—and he says to me something like ‘I would have thought a girl with a scientific mind such as yours would appreciate the dynamics of this subject. I am sorely disappointed in you.’ And then he said something like, ‘this is science. Fact. I do not teach fiction here in this school or theology.’ I nearly clobbered him. But I had to tell myself the guy was an idiot, and after getting back this paper with such a low score because he didn’t like my attitude, well I—”

Then she saw the Kevin, who was staring down at her like a disapproving father. In fact, so was Orrlar, flanked by First Klii who stood there as smug and satisfied at the scene as any schoolmarm.

Jafarr wiped his eyes and tried to wipe off his grin, but after reminiscing with Zormna for three hours straight while unpacking, it was hard to forget the feeling even with those people staring down at them with such facial expressions.

“Kevin,” Zormna said at once. “It is about time you got here. Jafarr and I were wondering if you were ambushed along the way, and we would have to sneak out to go in search of you.”

First Klii repressed what could have been a snort that said that there would have been no way they could have snuck out without her knowing.

“Zormna, what did you call me here for. I’m a busy man.” The Kevin’s eyes remained without sympathy. “It takes a lot to get a country organized after a war, whether you have noticed it or not.”

Zormna sobered up immediately. She looked around at the crowd that had gathered in her room. She frowned deeper. “Where is Alea Arden?”

“He is very busy,” the Kevin replied in a sterner voice.

Jafarr’s smile vanished. He stepped right next to Zormna.

“Young man, you needn’t step so close to Zormna either,” the Kevin snapped, turning to face him. “We aren’t attacking her. However, we are rather disappointed in how you two have behaved yourselves since the end of the hostilities. You two are no longer children.”

Nearly all faces agreed, from First Klii to Alea Salvar who glared primarily at Jafarr. However, a pleased flicker crossed Orrlar’s stern expression, and his eyes seemed less cold now. Jafarr scanned the faces of all as he remained at Zormna’s side, all the more appreciated for it by Zormna herself who was feeling quite attacked by this unexpected alliance.

“Excuse me?” Zormna opened her mouth, appalled at what had just been said. “You are disappointed in the way we have behaved ourselves? Look. We just went to get our last things from our homes in Pennington—a few-days trip of no danger whatsoever—to come back and find a council set up by I-don’t-know-who to boss me around, and a governing board that we never discussed. Under most circumstances, such acts would be considered sedition.”

This came like a slap to the Kevin’s face. He stepped back, eyes blinking.

“Now I want to know what’s going on! Why was I taken here? And what roach set up a council and governing board without my say so—if I am indeed forced to remain queen as I have been so duly informed?” Zormna demanded.

Orrlar let out a small grin and stepped forward. He gently bowed to Zormna. “Indeed, I figured you would be upset. But I can explain.”

Both Zormna and Jafarr turned, both staring at Orrlar as if he had jumped out of the blue and told them he was a People’s Military officer double agent who had now captured them.

“You?” Jafarr flinched.

The older man smiled more at Jafarr and nodded.

Jafarr pulled back. “Orrlar, you had better explain this very well, or I’m taking Zormna and we’re skipping out of here.”

His words effectively unsettled everyone, except Zormna who nodded firmly at his side, standing closer to him for protection.  

First Klii flustered with a scowl at Jafarr.

Orrlar Aflov, who was the newly appointed vice president and once second in command in the rebellion, drew in a long breath and sighed with the weight of an experienced advisor who knew and understood Jafarr and all his hang-ups very well. First, he glanced back at the eager crisp-suited attendants with First Klii. Then he turned to the woman, speaking frankly. “Please send them out. It is bad enough to have them following you everywhere. Zormna and Jafarr will not take well to them crowding them, especially at this present moment.”

Flustering more at this turn of events, First Klii shot Orrlar a killer glare before she turned to her entourage and commanded them to leave the apartment for the time being. They obeyed, though they delivered wary looks to their head of operations. Once they were gone, this left the room with only Kevin Desbah, Alea Salvar, First Klii, and Orrlar—and of course Jafarr and Zormna. As soon as the crowd was out, Orrlar shut the door behind them and strode over to a seat so he could take a positon in the room that would relax both Jafarr and Zormna—one which was not towering over them but on a more equal and casual level.

“Please sit. I think it will take a while,” Orrlar said, waving his hands to the box-shaped seat next to where the nearly empty cardboard boxes sat.

Though the Kevin frowned on Orrlar for his concessions and remained standing, Salvar, his son, moved to a seat. But Salvar’s eyes still glared angry daggers at Jafarr. First Klii also remained standing.

Jafarr pulled Zormna to the seat across from Orrlar, which ruffled the sensibilities of those who believe they had a prior claim to Zormna’s respect and attention. Yet the pair sat together, looking at the man who used to pretend to be Jafarr’s uncle when they had been on Earth. They waited for the long-overdue explanation.

“When you left so abruptly three days ago… and the people found out about it… uh…” Orrlar explained with a little nervous palm-rubbing, “… a group of the citizens organized a petition, and a protest.”

Recoiling, Zormna made a face. “They protested over me taking a small trip?”

Orrlar nodded, keeping his expression clear of emotion. “A great many people feel that a queen—their queen and last of her kind—should not be gadding about around the solar system, even if she can fly a ship.”

Cringing more, Zormna folded her arms with a scowl at him. “You’re about as bad as the Kevin.”

Flustering at being called ‘bad’, the Kevin disapproval increased on his face. “You have always been too flippant when you fly, Zormna,” the Kevin retorted in his defense. “You don’t take enough care with yourself.”

“Oh, is that so?” Zormna rose indignantly. “Well, who abandoned me on a planet without seeing if I was all right and settled in? Hmm?”

The Kevin opened his mouth to say something then shut it again, as it had been her main arguing point since she had returned from Earth.

“I take greater care with my life than you do,” Zormna snapped. That past year feeling so utterly abandoned could never be forgotten.

Bristling, he retorted, “What about all your crazy experiments? After all I’ve done for you to keep you safe. Sending you to Partha saved your life.”

“No!” Zormna countered vehemently. “Falling in with the rebellion saved my life. If it hadn’t been for Jafarr here, I would have been dead long ago.”

Her words were like a bomb. It devastated all protests—because she was right.

But then Jafarr lifted a finger, piping up. “Uh, Orrlar—you still didn’t explain why there are two organizations we didn’t authorize now hanging around.”

Orrlar smiled at him and nodded, glad Jafarr was still on point. “I was just getting to that. If you two would please sit, I will explain.”

Zormna sat down next to Jafarr again, closer this time. In fact, Jafarr felt a little cramped with her so close. And yet, he had to suppress the gratification that she preferred being by him than the others at the moment. The Kevin, who remained standing, looked away from Zormna and at the wall.

With care, Orrlar started again. “Well, the protesters selected a handful of citizens to parley with us. At least that was what they called it.”

“Parley?” Jafarr’s brow wrinkled. “What? Did they think we conquered them?”

Orrlar shook his head. “No, but several of the citizens were once government workers under the High Class—guiltless yet still fearful that we might, well, harm them because they supported Tharser’s Law.”

“Which we struck down,” Jafarr finished for him with a nod, making it clear he did not want to see a return of Tharser’s Law for any reason.

Zormna cut in. “So, are you saying these Social Work Class members set up these groups?”

Ambivalent to it, the Kevin and Alea Salvar merely exchanged looks. But First Klii lost her smug expression and pulled back a little. Her hands clenched like they were going clammy. Her eyes looked about the people in the room as if she suddenly realized she was in a room full of cutthroats and conspirators.

“No… not exactly.” Orrlar’s brow furrowed as he thought about it.

“Then what, exactly,” Jafarr asked, not liking where this was going. Three days gone, and somehow their work had this new foreign entity inserted into it.

Irritated, Orrlar stiffened. “If you two would quit interrupting I’ll answer.” Orrlar then let out a sigh and leaned closer to speak plainer. “We—that is—the heads of the Revolution that you left behind to take care of things while you went off to pick stuff up from your houses, uh… we, decided to take a poll and get the general feel of the people, what they wanted. And they…” He looked from Zormna to Jafarr and then back to Jafarr. “They want these groups set up for the proper management of city and of their newfound queen.”

Zormna blinked at him, feeling a little sick in her gut. Jafarr also stared, not quite believing it.

“Then the people really want us stuck here?” Jafarr said this just to make sure. “And they really want that council to advise Zormna?”

Orrlar nodded resignedly.

“I want proof,” Zormna declared at once, still disgusted at the thought. As far as she was concerned, this council was an unreasonable demand.

Expecting that, Orrlar signaled to Alea Salvar.

Zormna looked to her old friend who had been like an elder brother to her as well as a comrade in arms when they grew up in the Surface Patrol. He was maintaining a placid expression on his freckled face, masking his distaste for how Zormna and Jafarr were acting almost in tandem. His cheeks were a little flushed, almost blending into the roots of his red hair. But he behaved as if on duty, pulling out the flat computer pad which he handed it to Orrlar. Orrlar handed it to Zormna.

She took it at once and peered over at the data gathered from the poll—from the questions to the answers and all the information in between. She did this for several minutes before she stuffed it into Jafarr’s hand in disgust. Jafarr took one look at it. A defeated expression sank into his face as dread swept through him, reading all the stats. He glanced painfully at Zormna, feeling as sick in the gut as she did.

“I can’t believe it.” Nausea rose in his throat.  He looked to Orrlar. “And this… governing council? What are they to do? What implication does this have on me?”

Orrlar heaved a deeper sigh. He retrieved the information pad from Jafarr’s hands. “That… is our mutual problem. The citizens selected them in a vote that we cannot ignore. They are to administer under us and feed us the voice of the people. They are to replace the Great Council.”

Jafarr narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “This is not at all how we wanted it. This just the same old crap, different leadership.”

“But this is how the people want it,” Orrlar said gazing at Jafarr gravely now.

Rising from the couch, Jafarr continued to shake his head. “I can’t entirely accept this. This is not what I fought for!” He glanced to Zormna, speaking his thoughts aloud. “How can we change ten thousand years of training? This is the old system all over again. I bet not one person on that governing board is a classless man, am I right?”

A faint smirk flashed across Orrlar’s lips, but he said nothing.

“What classless man has the expertise and training to govern a nation?” First Klii asked, now stepping forward. She had given up wringing her clammy hands when she saw Jafarr’s defeated expression.

Both Jafarr and Orrlar gave her an unsmiling look.

“I can name several,” Jafarr replied, stepping toward her. “Each of which have regulated and governed affairs quite well among people.”

“You mean among the rebellion,” Alea Salvar snorted, his disdain plain.

Jafarr glared at him.

Zormna briskly stood up. “And what is wrong with people who worked in the rebellion? I have met these people. They are valiant and capable. Caste does not dictate capacity.”

Seeing her indignation, Salvar went silent and looked away. But then he retuned and shook his head. “But it does not indicate opportunity to acquire skills needed for leadership. Personally, I find those rebels to be cagey.”

“Cagey?” Jafarr stepped toward him now with a glare. “You didn’t say that when they were fighting alongside of you during the revolution.”

“That’s enough,” Orrlar said, standing up to block a fight. “The fact is, both groups are set, and we need to take care when working with them because, like it or not, the people did select them.”

“And we have to do what the people wish,” Jafarr finished tersely. “I know.”

Hearing this, First Klii stood triumphant. She smoothed over her suit so she would look formidable again. “Well then,” she said, stepping forward, “I think we will start with training our new queen… after this long delay.”

Jafarr glanced at Zormna. She made a face back at him.

“Uh… Zormna has jet lag,” Jafarr quickly declared.

Orrlar covered a smirk.

“Has what?” First Klii gazed at him narrowly, unfamiliar with the term.

“Jet lag,” Jafarr said, catching Zormna’s eye. Zormna barely nodded then quickly feigned exhaustion, massaging her forehead. “It is something you get when you travel from one time zone to another—especially when you have been used to one time for so long.”

First Klii looked at Zormna. Apparently, she had not noticed that Zormna had been fine just a few seconds before—but then Jafarr was counting on the Tarrn reputation for weakness. She moved directly to catch her queen. But Zormna dropped toward Jafarr so he would have to catch her, almost stepping on his foot for making her pretend to be lightheaded and weak.

“Yep, jet lag,” he said, bracing her up while hiding his amusement.

Alea Salvar huffed, comprehending the act. He wasn’t stupid. And further, he could see Zormna was willing to play along with Jafarr’s antics to get rid of them. Rising from his seat, he turned toward the door. “Fine. If that is a hint to leave, I’ll go.” He pressed the door button with a weary glance at his father before speaking to Zormna. “Zormna, when you are done playing around with this fool, I want to talk with you.”

The Kevin wordlessly followed suit, maintaining his disapproving watch on Jafarr. He seemed especially disappointed in her, but he didn’t say anything.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” First Klii asked, now moving to help lift Zormna to the bed if she could. However, Jafarr steered Zormna to the chair they had been sitting on, where she sat down while still acting faint. With a wave, he motioned that he didn’t need First Klii’s help.

“I can handle it,” Jafarr told her firmly.

First Klii stepped back from them with severe judgement. “I’ll bet.” She finally stomped out of the room.

Only Orrlar was left.

Jafarr dropped to the seat next to Zormna.

“So,” Orrlar said, glancing at the two of them as they were both now smirking together like conspirators. “Alzdar said you wanted to talk with me.”

Jafarr nodded with a glance at Zormna. She sat up straighter with a grin.

“Yeah,” Jafarr said, regaining a little presidential posture “I don’t care what that woman or the newly-formed governing group has said. My prime concern is and has been getting things done right—not falling into old patterns. They’re restricting Zormna’s and my freedom. We are both going to go batty here if things aren’t changed soon.”

Yet Orrlar’s response was like a man who was very, very tired. “Indeed, Jafarr. But what you have to understand is that you and Zormna are no longer two free teens living in the United States. As two leading officials of our country, you two must become entirely serious and extremely responsible.”

Zormna’s mouth gaped open in protest.

“AND…” Orrlar cut her off before she could speak. “Regardless of your adult level, past responsibilities, and history, you two need to consider what others want for a change—and possibly reform a few bad habits.”

“Bad habits?” Zormna piped up, bristling.

Orrlar delivered a firm fatherly look that silenced her. “Yes, bad habits… such as sneaking off and having temper fits when things don’t go your way.”

Her gaze darkened on him.

“Such as walking free and clear where we wish?” Jafarr dryly asked, annoyed with this change in attitude towards him and Zormna.

Sadly, Orrlar nodded. “That too. Even the American President cannot go anywhere without bodyguards… and he has fewer enemies than you two. We have not caught all the PMs—if I may remind you both. There are still those around that want you both dead, and they’re just biding their time for when they can kill you.”

“Or bossing us around,” Jafarr cut in. “How can you trust that Klii woman? She just reeks with old Creed of Tharser hate.”

Stiffening where he was, Orrlar paused in thought. He glanced at the two and nodded. “Well, I can’t say that we didn’t try to kill the vestiges of Tharser’s Law. And you are right. But Jafarr, how do we kill ten thousand years of training?”

“By example, Orrlar,” Zormna rose to her feet and walked over to her box to finish unpacking.

Jafarr nodded. “Indeed. By example. Those that can change things shouldn’t let others convince them that they can’t. I want to set up my own advisory council—call it my cabinet. The American president has one. I want to be advised by those other than Social Work Class members.”

Slowly, Orrlar nodded. “And if we select people of lower castes…”

“And casteless…” Jafarr reminded him.

“And casteless,” Orrlar agreed, though it sounded more like he was humoring them. “Then possibly it might change the tone of how things will run.”

“We better get Alea Arden on that council,” Zormna remarked, taking out the last book from her box and tossing the empty cardboard box onto the floor.

Agreeing completely, Jafarr nodded. “Yes. Most definitely.”

But Orrlar frowned. “I don’t know if the Kevin would approve of that.”

“I’m positive the Kevin won’t approve.” Jafarr looked to him, hard. “Which is why Zormna will be the one insisting on that, right Zormna?”

She nodded. “I do insist on it. Alea Arden is one of the most influential Aleas in the Patrol now. He has been my ally for years, and he’ll be the next Kevin. He has the right attitude that we need to get things changed.”

“Besides that,” Jafarr added. “He has a huge influence in the undercity. He was an undercity man himself once.”

Zormna smiled, deeply glad Jafarr and she were on the same page. “Exactly.”

Rising from his seat, Orrlar sighed again and walked toward the door. “Ok, I see you two have already given this some thought. Is there anyone else you have in mind that you want me to contact for this advisory cabinet?”

Zormna and Jafarr looked at each other and nodded. “Dzhon.”

“I see,” Orrlar said, “Mutual friends.”

“You can select some people too, Orrlar. I just want people we can trust,” Jafarr said.

Orrlar smiled. “Then I’ll bring in Eergvin. He was shunted aside when this whole governing council was set up. I think it did not settle well with him.”

Jafarr nodded, his eyes saying Eergvin was a given in this case.

“Are you going?” First Klii suddenly stuck her head through the open door.

Zormna moaned, fell into her chair again with a meaningful looked at Jafarr.

“Yeah, I’ll go. Just leave Zormna alone tonight, and we can call ourselves even, ok?” Jafarr said to her, getting up and stepping after Orrlar into the hallway.

First Klii stood smugly at the open door and nodded, watching Jafarr leave the room. She closed it once he exited into the hall and Orrlar had departed. All the attendants were still standing there in the hallway, leaning on the walls with grumbled to themselves under their breaths. When Jafarr walked toward his door, they looked up, watching to make sure he was going inside. It had given him such a thought that he paused and marched back down the hall towards them.

“I think I should subject you all to a search. …Standing around like assassins,” Jafarr said to them in a belligerent voice.

Hearing that, the attendants fled down the hall away from the queen’s apartment. Only First Klii remained. She glared at Jafarr.

“You think you’re so clever.” First Klii spoke in a low voice as Jafarr turned back toward his room.

Halting, Jafarr turned around. “Think? First Klii… I don’t know what you are up to, but I don’t trust you. I’ll make it plain.” Then taking another step near her, he said with the same frightening firmness as he did on the flight car, “If you as so much give Zormna a headache, I’ll permanently remove you and all your fancy-dressed followers from the Uppercity. I am her protector, and I will not allow you to harm her in any way. Got it?”

In the silence of the long hallway, the woman glared back at him much akin to someone who believed her cause was not only righteous, but also the only true and noble way. It was nearly fanatical.

Yet Jafarr turned to go back to his room, not really after a staring contest.

“And I’ll have you know that I serve the people,” First Klii said in a shriller tone than usual. “And my duty to the people is to coach and create the queen they desire. If anyone is harming Her Highness, it is you, with your crude manner and idle demeanor. You have influenced her to become an idler and brazen fool herself—behaving below her dignity… sneaking off like a child when she had already proven herself an adult. And don’t you think I don’t notice the way you look at her. She is a lady and not some gutter wench for rats to toy with until all her fancies run dry and her beauty is spent. She is fit for better things.”

Hearing this, the ridiculous speech which had attempted to wax poetic, Jafarr halted. This was what the woman imagined was going on? It was too absurd. Turning, Jafarr looked to the woman sharply. “I don’t know what you are imagining in my looks at Zormna—”

“Queen Zormna!” First Klii snapped. “You cannot be so familiar—”

“I’ll be as familiar as I

Imprint

Publisher: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Publication Date: 03-25-2022
ISBN: 978-3-7554-7922-2

All Rights Reserved