* * *
The following morning dawned bright, the sun warning the world of a coming warm, sultry day. Mihai had excused herself after breakfasting and departed for the South Diamond Convalescent Center, some distance north of Palace City. She was currently sitting in a breezy portico with her dearest Sirion.
Sirion was mending well. The hospital ship, LoriGee, rushed to a rendezvous with the fleet en route from EremiaPikros to EdenEsonbar. Sirion and the other freed prisoners were hurried aboard where surgeons waited. By knife and healing machine, the medical teams worked feverishly to repair broken bodies, while psycho-renewal chambers assisted to rebuild shattered minds.
(Author’s Note: The term ‘knife’ was used for describing any form of invasive surgery where the body was opened to make repair or remove foreign objects. This included countless arrays of machines and tools as well as ‘harmonic’ or ‘song medicine’, where certain skilled Ancients used finger manipulation combined with audio interposition to perform internal surgeries.
Reconstructive surgery for non life-threatening injuries was a relatively new practice at the time, the feeling previously being that natural healing, though timely, was sufficient, leaving the surgeons to tend to more serious physical injuries. The unprecedented volume of wounded from burns and explosions during the Great War hastened the development of proper medical facilities to treat the horrific disfigurement and mental trauma the war was inflicting. Not only were hospitals and sanatoriums constructed to care for such injuries, hospital ships like the LoriGee were commissioned to take that kind of treatment into the field.)
Sirion’s surgeries were many, yet for a large part, the healing machines were allowed to do most of the work. Already the girl’s breasts were in process of regeneration with the assist of skin grafts and injections of super hormones. Broken bones were mending, muscle, and other tissue reforming, and even new teeth were beginning to poke through her gums. All in all, Sirion was quite pleased with the results as she preened before the looking glass she held up in her hand.
Mihai laughed, watching her child carry on with such merriment. Still it was not all rosy. She had been informed that Sirion still suffered from post trauma. At the present time, the girl made daily visits to the psycho-chambers, the medical staff feeling a few more days of that therapy helpful. But the surgeons feared nerve damage affecting her motor controls - and ruined eye – could possibly take years before they would fully heal.
It was this final diagnosis that bothered Mihai the most. Sirion was a strong-headed child and was determined to get back into the cockpit of a fighter craft. Being relegated to driving a hack did not set well with the girl’s temperament. Since the beginning of her visit, Sirion had been pestering her with request to be released for combat duty. For much of the morning, Mihai was successful at changing the subject, which she was preparing to do again.
Sirion looked over from the mirror, grinning, her new teeth recently becoming visible. “See! I’m almost fully healed. The nurses say only a few more days and I’ll be good as new. Now what…”
Mihai looked at some flowers on a table near Sirion’s chair, asking excitedly, “Are those jewel’s weed? They don’t grow around here, but off to the east.”
“Yes.” Sirion answered reluctantly. “Colonel Treston…you remember Treston, my Treston who I mentored? Well he’s been made a colonel by the War Department…assigned to Army duties near the Oros desert. Supposed to start training new recruits, I was told. Well, he’s come to Palace City to meet with some of the high brass. Early this morning, he paid me a visit.”
She frowned. “I’ve never been treated so special before, at least to the point of being fought over.”
“What?” Mihai asked, curious. “Is Treston a threat in some way?”
Sirion denied it was so, explaining, “Oh no, a more polite and caring gentleman I’ve not known, but I do feel strange when men spar over me like I’m some special treasure to be had.”
“How so?”
“Well.” Sirion confessed. “Treston was not my only visitor this day. I was sitting right here, admiring the flowers given me when Eutychus arrived to visit. He’s been stopping by from time to time since my coming here.”
She looked up, dismayed. “They were polite enough, on the outside at least, but if looks could kill, I’m sure there would have been bloodshed.”
Mihai felt Sirion was making more of things than necessary, thinking it amusing. “Sounds rather sweet to me... Shouldn’t you be feeling flattered?”
Sirion’s opinion did not change. “No, those two weren’t jousting in some flirting game the likes I’ve seen the men from this world do. Those fellows from the Lower Worlds play possessively. I noticed it when mentoring Treston. I felt his growing desire to own me, only breaking that spell by seducing him into the arms of other women. Eutychus and I have only known each other since the Prisoner Exchange. He’s my saving angel, and we’ve been good friends since, but that is all, yet I felt his heated desire this day to lay claim to me.”
Thinking over what Sirion revealed, Mihai cautioned, “Selfish ownership is a common trait of many in the Lower Realms. That kind of baggage is known to be carried into this world by some of them. It is possible that you might get sucked into an unpleasant turf war if you’re not careful.”
Troubled, Sirion asked. “What can I do?”
Rubbing her chin while looking at the floor, Mihai answered, “Well…first, I’d keep ‘em out of my bed. That’s for starters. Then I’d put ‘em in their place if they start to get out of line. Let ‘em know who the boss is, that you own your body and will enforce that ownership in unpleasant ways, unpleasant for them.”
“How do I do that?” Sirion cried. “Treston’s the only man from the Lower Realms I’ve been with. Unlike you, my lovers have been few. You’ve been around men of both Realms long enough to know how to keep them in line.”
Mihai patted Sirion on the leg. “You’ll do just fine…put them in their place. Those fellows learn quickly. Mind you, do be careful not to deflate their egos too far. The men from the Lower Realms have a passion that…well…is too valuable to risk losing.”
Looking back into the mirror, Sirion mused, “I can always leave the matter go after getting back to my duties in a few days.”
Mihai was not pleased. “The surgeons have not given you a clean bill of health yet. When you’re up and about, we’ll discuss your return to duties. Until then…”
Sirion soured, her reply caustic. “No child am I! A daughter born to the blood of war since the days after the Great Flooding I am! I’ve watched others with greater injuries than I return to battle, and with your blessing. I’m not your little baby and you not my mother hen.”
Surprised, Mihai defended herself. “No mother hen am I over anyone, especially you! I have no intention of holding you back. If you want to get kil…Look! I just believe you need to heal a bit more. A few weeks or a month might be a much better tim…”
Sirion cut her off, angry. “Don’t think you can brush me off with hollow promises! My body’s been ruined by combat before, my returning to the Army at those times my choice. Since the 200 Years War, you’ve coddled me, pushing me out of frontline duty by refusing my request to have the Review Council reopen the Chobine Incident, which would have proved that collision was mechanical malfunction.”
“Dear.” Mihai lifted her hands defensively. “It was very tenuous times then. The carrier, Chobine, was engaged in another theater. I could not afford to call in the witnesses of the event to testify, nor afford to pull officers out of combat to form the council. I…”
Sirion’s retort was bitter. “There is no safe haven when death searches you out! I wished to ship aboard the SharonGray as a pilot scout, and patrol Eden’s Gate, but you sent me off on the Zephath to ‘protect me’…your words. Well, the SharonGray returned to port after a successful patrol. Need I tell you what ha
ppened to the Zephath?”
Sirion’s stinging question was like a blow to Mihai’s midriff. She stammered as if gasping for air, finally stuttering, “I…I…I’ve…lost…so many. I…I can’t afford…to lose you…too.”
Sirion’s was noticeably upset. Not that she blamed Mihai for her capture on the Zephath, but for seeing herself in Mihai’s eyes as little more than a precious pet needing protection. Her dander was up, and at the moment cared not the damage her verbal blows might cause. She spewed her pent up feelings remorselessly. “You lost me the day we drew swords together in the First Aphrodite War! I, along with the rest of my kindred, was thrown upon the altar of war to live or die at the whim of those Fates. A covenant I made with the damned with my first murder of one of Mother’s children, and in that bed shall my heart and flesh remain until this Rebellion is finished.”
With tears welling up in her eyes, Mihai cried, “You need time to heal! That’s all! Just a little time! Take some rest…”
“I’ll rest when I’m dead!” Sirion fumed. She leaned toward Mihai, her face clouding with smoldering fury, the girl speaking in little more than a low, guttural hiss. “How do you think I kept my sanity when riding the bellies of horses? By dreaming revenge, remembering the names of those torturing me, their faces, their genteel ridicule! Then, while my body was being mercilessly desecrated by those bastards, I would envision my hands doing the same to them, their screams and pitiable whimpering for mercy as I slowly tore the living flesh off their bones.”
Mihai was caught up speechless, finding no words with which to make reply.
Sirion looked away, pitching the hand mirror against one of the building’s pillars. “The surgeons have given me release to attend the upcoming council. Mother has invited me to it and I will not disappoint.”
She looked back at Mihai, threatening. “If you’ve not found me a command to join by that time, I will ship aboard the SueTondie, its captain having already contacted me. The Wildcatters are looking for fighter pilots and they’re not fussy as long as the person knows how to fly.”
Desperate at hearing this revelation, Mihai begged Sirion in hopes to buy a little more time. “Please! Please be patient with me and I promise - promise to get you back in the pilot’s seat.”
“You’ve got two more days!” Sirion shook a finger at Mihai. “I’m not coming back here after the council! The SueTondie leaves but two days after and I will not risk waiting to join another command on your whim.”
“My darling! My little darling!” Mihai cried, becoming frantic. “Look! The Admiral of the Fleet, Gabrielle, is departing Palace City next week to take the new carrier, Sophia, out for its shakedown cruise. Three weeks following, it will return to make report and take on provisions for extended duty. If I can procure a writ from the Admiral that you will be allowed to ship aboard before it leaves, then will you linger here a little while longer?”
Sirion trusted Mihai, but dared not trust only to her words, not this day. She tapped her opened palm with a finger. “You hand me that writ, signed by your admiral and sealed with your kingly ring and I’ll consider it. A paper in writing signed and sealed!”
Mihai nodded, promising she would, her tears falling freely. Sirion was changed, full of venom and hate. Better to let her burn some of it off while walking the deck of a warship than to be consumed by it behind these walls. “I’ll contact Gabrielle on my return to Palace City. It will be done.”
Sirion relaxed, resting her head on the chair back while closing her eyes. “Thank you...”
The two sat there in silence as the morning sun gave way to early afternoon. Mihai eventually offered her leave, assisting Sirion back to her room before going. As she walked toward a waiting carriage, the new king pondered what she had earlier witnessed. It was very troubling to see her comfortable world crumbling about her, and not just with Sirion. No, like ravenous beasts after a long, hungry winter, her people were waking to seek the blood-feast of war. Every day the wolves were congregating in increasing numbers, to the taverns and gathering places in search of old comrades, or to outright reenlist.
Too long they had waited to rid the enemy from this Realm. It was no longer a matter of if but when war would come, and if Mihai did not bring it soon, the people would take it up without her. She was their goddess king, but now only a figurehead who would declare their day of damnation. A new leader stood before the crowds, her bloodlust clearly defined at the last council. It was her that the people worshiped, or what she stood for - complete and total war, no parley, no debate.
This time it would be a fight to the end. Death or victory, it mattered little to the people at the moment. The boilers were dangerously hot, the fires burning wild. Mihai must release that pressure, no matter the cost or her world would explode in uncontrolled mayhem. She must pick the hour, but it must be soon and for the right reason.
Oh, how she hated her very existence at that moment! Oh, how disgusting her very birth...