The Light-Field

  ‘Ah,’ Anselm looked back to the soldier, ‘I know what this might be about … aren’t you the one who tried to seduce my daughter —’

  ‘Dad!’ Taren cut in; even in the most serious moment, he had to tease her.

  ‘This would be about your sibling then.’ He invited Yasper to sit on the throne beside him.

  ‘Boy or a girl?’ Yasper asked as he sat.

  ‘Boy,’ Anselm replied.

  ‘A brother.’ He smiled, pleased. ‘Dead or alive?’

  ‘Alive,’ Anselm was pleased to advise.

  Yasper burst into a huge smile, clearly excited. ‘Do you know where I might find him?’

  Anselm nodded. ‘Last I heard he’d been assigned by the inter-system gateway network to try to open the old gateway through to Maladaan’s neighbouring star system.’

  ‘Telmo Dacre!’ Taren deduced, shocked and excited by the announcement.

  Anselm nodded.

  ‘But you said you didn’t know who Telmo was?’ She remembered the very conversation, and her father shrugged.

  ‘I had a secret to keep, just like Ronan did,’ he justified. ‘Now Ronan wants the truth known, I am free to tell it.’

  ‘You know my little brother?’ Yasper was out of the throne and in Taren’s face.

  ‘From the other time line,’ she explained.

  ‘Whoa!’ Yasper was overjoyed. ‘What does he do? What’s he like?’

  ‘Well he —’ She spotted the royal physician entering the throne room with Jalila Lamus, and all eyes turned her way.

  ‘She is awake,’ the viceroy announced, whereupon everyone breathed a sigh of relief. ‘The Qusay-Sabah Clarona is asking to see Jabez.’

  Anselm was very surprised that she would summon him by his first name. There had only been one short day that she had called him by that name — the day Taren was conceived. She had never called him Jabez since, as days later she was crowned Queen of Phemoria and cast into madness.

  The president accompanied the viceroy back into the queen’s private chamber, and Taren crossed her fingers that the Grigori were right about their love for one another.

  Lucian gave Taren a hug and a kiss on the head for support. ‘Hopefully we can cross two items off your list this day.’

  ‘Here’s hoping.’

  ‘Hey, boss.’ Mythric came forward. ‘I was thinking we should get Amie down here to wipe the minds of these Valoureans and send them on their way. There were a few things mentioned during this meeting that might be better forgotten for now.’

  ‘Good call.’ Taren was about to suggest she assume wilful control of the Valoureans from Mythric, when Zeven suddenly appeared with Amie.

  ‘Aurora said you needed Amie.’ He let her go, and she was staggering. ‘So what’s happening? Whoa!’ He turned and stared at all the glaring Valoureans. ‘They looked really pissed.’

  ‘That’s why we need, Amie.’ Taren looked to her, and Amie’s eyes boggled at the small army she had to bemuse.

  ‘What do you want me to implant?’

  ‘Let them believe that the meeting between their queen and Anselm went swimmingly well, and they are all dismissed for lunch.’

  ‘I’ll get to it.’ She moved to the beginning of the line to alter the first guard’s memory of events and send her on her way.

  A few hours passed before Jalila Lamus returned to advise that the queen was now asking to see her daughter and Spyridon Vidor.

  ‘Me?’ Mythric was startled, but then figured it was his ghostly partner that the queen really wanted to see. He raised himself to accompany Taren to where the ruler was recuperating.

  When they entered, the queen was no longer infirm, but sitting in the lounging chamber with Anselm, smiling broadly for the first time in forty-five long years. ‘Your father tells me that Taren is the name you are now known by.’ She rose to stand. ‘And he also tells me that it was you who masterminded my release from the Phemoray.’

  ‘Yes,’ Taren confirmed on both counts. ‘But we are not rid of the Phemoray yet, they are only contained.’

  ‘I know,’ her mother concurred, clearly proud of her daughter’s knowledge and foresight. ‘I am touched that either of you would take such a huge risk to free me … they would have come after you next. I was already helping them track you down.’ She began to tremble with trepidation at the thought. Taren had already converted the queen’s spy, Ayliscia Portus, to AMIE’s cause, so she need not have worried. ‘You might have ended up like poor Satomi.’ Clarona looked in Mythric’s direction, and tears were in his eyes. ‘I never understood why she fled Phemoria, until that crown was placed on my head.’

  ‘She wanted to protect you. She spent decades in hiding in the hope of finding a means to do it,’ Mythric assured her. ‘It took Taren to figure out the curse of Phemoray.’

  ‘I know Satomi feels she abandoned me, but I am glad she escaped this cursed realm, if only for a little while.’ Clarona shed a tear. ‘Mother went quite mad after her secret pregnancy. She was taunted by ghastly spirits that she claimed fathered her unwanted son.’

  ‘Your mother was not mad — Khalid was an abomination,’ Mythric said with spite. ‘I didn’t realise how powerful he was until it was too late. If I’d known then what I knew after that night, Satomi would still —’

  ‘Shhh!’ the Phemorian queen urged and, as she approached Mythric, he fell on one knee before her. ‘Satomi has nothing but praise for you, Spyridon.’ She placed a hand on his head in comfort. ‘Now that the veil of insanity has been lifted from my eyes and I have my free will back, it is my wish that you return my beloved sister’s body to Phemoria where it belongs.’ The queen was in tears again, and Anselm came over to steady her.

  ‘You don’t have to try to right everything you did in forty years in just a few hours.’ He suggested escorting her back to a seat, but she turned to Taren, who was close by.

  ‘My daughter, my heroine.’ Clarona brushed a hand across her cheek and then embraced her. ‘You will make a formidable queen.’

  ‘No, Mother.’ Taren wiggled free and grabbed her mother’s hands in her own. ‘No more monarchical rule; Phemoria needs a government like Sermetica, where those of royal birth earn their right to rule, if they feel that is their vocation.’

  Clarona was completely shocked by Taren’s words. ‘Why did you do this, if not to secure your inheritance?’

  ‘I did it so that the people I might have been responsible for will have a better future, with or without me,’ Taren replied and Clarona had to sit down.

  ‘Why do I suddenly feel like the child here?’ she observed.

  ‘I know exactly what you mean.’ Anselm sat down opposite Clarona. ‘But, you know, Taren has whipped me back into line fairly well and my planet has truly prospered for it. All I had to do was face the fear that my all predecessors were afraid to face. And now I wonder what we have all been so afraid of. What those on Maladaan are still living in fear of!’

  ‘It hardly makes sense that Maladaan would hold their fear so well, when it was Sermetica that the Phemorians harmed with their psychic uprising,’ Clarona reasoned.

  ‘They are just doing whatever they can to ensure a psychic revolution never occurs there,’ Anselm supposed.

  ‘But they are using my invention to aid them, and that’s not on!’ Taren let them both know that she wanted support on addressing that little issue.

  ‘We’ll get there.’ Her father urged her to back off and let them catch their breath. ‘Clarona and I have a whole load of fancy political footwork to do in the immediate future, before we go charging off and throwing our weight around with other planets.’

  Taren accepted this. ‘We’ll see to mother’s request regarding the Princess Satomi.’

  ‘I would appreciate that,’ Clarona said. ‘Perhaps then she shall rest in peace.’

  After that, they had to prevent Kalayna and Telmo from opening the gateway, so there was plenty to keep AMIE busy whilst the president and the queen sorted through their new
political alliance.

  Back on board AMIE, the crew from the last mission were debriefed together and the team for the next mission was selected. Obviously they needed Mythric, who knew his way around the House of Vidor and its crypt. Lucian could see Satomi but needed Jazmay and a telepath to translate — and Kassa insisted on being the telepath of choice this time.

  ‘Hold on,’ Zeven protested. ‘If Taren, Jazmay and Mythric are going, that means I can’t go again. There’s no way I’m staying behind this time — this is my mother we’re talking about!’

  Ayliscia put her hand up. ‘If I replace Jazmay as translator, she can stay and Zeven can go.’

  ‘Hey thanks, Dr Portus.’ Zeven was genuinely surprised by her offer, probably because in the last time line she’d never liked him very much.

  ‘This can’t be easy,’ she said sympathetically, ‘for either of you.’

  Mythric forced a smile.

  ‘We still have each other.’ Zeven batted his eyelids at Mythric to dispel the gloom.

  ‘Everybody else may as well go get some R & R,’ Taren suggested.

  ‘I’ll keep one eye on you from here,’ Aurora advised, kissing Zeven in leaving.

  ‘Yeah, that was really intense.’ Ringbalin was glad to be dismissed. ‘I’m going back to my greenhouse where it’s peaceful and calm.’

  ‘Great job, thank you.’ Taren waved to him in leaving, and Yasper and Jazmay who followed him out.

  ‘I’ll go find my husband,’ Amie commented. ‘One guess as to where he’ll be?’

  ‘Module D,’ replied all with a laugh, as that was where the track, gym and pool were located. Swithin had set up office in one of the labs there.

  It had occurred to Taren to speak with Swithin about the possibility of resurrecting Mythric’s deceased princess. However, Swithin had explained that once a body had begun to decompose it did not repair once life had been breathed back into it; Mythric would wind up with a walking corpse and not the beautiful wife he remembered. This being as it was, Taren had not mentioned Swithin’s talent to Mythric. In fact, Swithin rarely spoke of it to anyone, as he didn’t like the idea of playing lord over nature’s selection process.

  Mythric’s mental guidance landed their party in the large cellars of the House of Vidor that had been locked up since Maiara’s death. Taren cracked a glow stick, as did Zeven, and the space around them lit up green in the glow.

  ‘Well, drown me.’ Zeven was amazed by the scale of the cellar with barrels ten times the size of a man.

  Taren noticed Lucian frowning as his eyes scanned the room. ‘Are you all right?’

  He raised his brows, unsure. ‘There’s a fair few ghosts in here.’

  ‘That’s just going to get worse as we enter the crypt. Do you want to leave?’ Taren hadn’t considered what an uncomfortable situation this was for a medium to be in.

  ‘No, I’m good,’ he assured her. ‘But if I start acting strange, don’t shoot me. I’ve most likely just been possessed by someone.’

  His humour made her smile, as they followed Mythric’s lead through to the family crypt.

  In the stone annex that marked the entrance, there was a key card scanner and a number pad lock on the door, which was linked to a security company. By his will, Mythric bypassed the key pad and blocked the security signal to part the doors before them.

  The room beyond was not at all what Taren had been expecting; it wasn’t old, dim and dusky at all. The chamber was completely white, spotless and filled with light, which poured in through a skylight in the centre. The majestic, hexagon-shaped room was filled with ornate sarcophagi, housing the remains of the royals of Vidor.

  ‘So which one of these is Mother’s?’ Zeven eyed over each one as they passed.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Mythric replied, ‘I haven’t been in this chamber since my parents died, which was some time before I met the princess.’ His eyes turned to the centre of the chamber where stairs rose to a hexagonal platform. One sarcophagus sat bathed in the natural light from the skylight above. ‘That’s new,’ Mythric noted.

  ‘Maiara?’ Taren felt the great lady might have been honoured with the central spot in the crypt.

  ‘Maybe?’ Mythric led off to investigate, and everyone trailed him to the base of the stairs and allowed him to ascend alone.

  Upon reaching the platform, Mythric looked down upon the sarcophagus and gasped in shock, before falling to his knees beside it. His eyes were transfixed on the top of the tomb, which appeared perfectly flat from where Taren was standing — perhaps the inscription was emotive? In fact, the tomb itself appeared rather sleek and ultra-modern compared with the others.

  ‘Is it Mother?’ Zeven ventured to ask what they were all dying to know.

  ‘Yes,’ Mythric managed to squeeze out an answer, ‘no doubt about it.’

  Zeven was concerned by his father’s obvious distress and ascended the stairs to see for himself what was crippling the man. ‘What the? Whoa!’ he gasped, amazed by what he saw.

  Too curious to maintain their decorum, the others ascended to view the oddity themselves.

  The top of the sarcophagus was glass, and inside the perfectly preserved and cleant body of the Princess Satomi rested peacefully. She appeared to have just drifted into sleep and looked barely older than Taren.

  ‘Why do this?’ Mythric appealed to Taren. ‘So as to torture me, each time I see her?’

  ‘Hold on.’ Kassa looked over the unit. ‘This is not a crypt, she’s been put into stasis.’

  ‘But she is already dead?’ Mythric appealed. ‘I held her lifeless corpse! No wonder she cannot rest in peace!’

  Taren gasped so loudly that everyone jumped. ‘Maiara was a precog,’ she attempted to explain, but only Lucian appeared to twig. ‘She knew we’d have Swithin —’

  ‘Swithin?’ Zeven frowned. ‘What has he got to do with this?’

  She held up a finger, too excited to continue. ‘Nobody do anything before I get back!’ She looked to Mythric, who clearly didn’t know what to feel. ‘I think there is a very good reason why Maiara did this, and it wasn’t to torment … she may have just managed to save both your kin from Khalid.’

  ‘What?’ Mythric threw his hands up, as Taren held up a finger and vanished from their midst.

  Under a sun lamp by the pool, Swithin was startled out of his wits when Taren silently appeared beside him and grabbed his arm. ‘Swithin —’

  ‘Fricken heart attack! Don’t do that! I swear, sis, I near took your head clean off!’

  ‘We need you,’ Taren said and made a move toward him, whereupon Swithin backed up out of arm’s reach.

  He cocked an eyebrow, not liking the sound of that. ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s Satomi —’ Taren began.

  ‘Ah! No, no, no, no.’ He shook his head.

  ‘Her body has been perfectly preserved, Swithin,’ Taren appealed. ‘I think she might be one of the major reasons you were given the gift you have.’

  Swithin was rather taken aback by that claim. ‘So I have her to thank for this, you reckon?’

  ‘Not at all.’ He’d misunderstood her. ‘But I do think it is a clear sign from the universe that, in this case, you are meant to come to the party.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll come.’ Swithin frowned deeply, unhappy that he agreed. ‘But let me get my shirt on first.’ He whipped it from the back of his chair and pulled it on his body. ‘Right then, zap away.’ He gave her leave to take hold of him, appearing none to eager to experience his first taste of teleportation.

  ‘It’s not going to hurt,’ she promised as she took hold.

  ‘Yee-ha!’ Swithin cried upon arrival, completely forgetting that they were teleporting to a crypt. As his excited cry echoed very loudly around the chamber several times, Swithin became increasingly embarrassed by everyone’s stares of disapproval. ‘Sorry … first time teleporter.’

  ‘Why is he here?’ Zeven asked, disgruntled — still holding a bit of a grudge against Swithin for his betrayal
in their last time line.

  ‘Didn’t you tell them?’ Taren looked to Lucian, who shook his head.

  ‘I wasn’t sure he’d agree.’ Lucian thought he’d best wait.

  ‘Taren seems to think I was destined to help with this one.’ Swithin scaled the stairs to take a look at the setup. ‘Wow, she’s quite the looker.’ He glanced at Mythric, who, although shocked by the proceedings, had to smile with pride. ‘It does seem a little odd that she’s been preserved to this extent.’

  ‘Will someone please explain what you mean to do?’ Mythric appealed as calmly as he was capable.

  ‘I mean to bring your princess back to life,’ Swithin advised with a cocky grin. ‘With your consent, of course,’ he added, as Mythric was utterly speechless.

  ‘You can resurrect the dead?’ Zeven was shocked, as was Kassa and Ayliscia.

  ‘I was wondering about you,’ Kassa commented with a grin.

  ‘Nice to know you’ve not invaded my head to find out,’ Swithin replied.

  ‘That’s against company policy, unless otherwise specified by the captain,’ she assured everyone, not just Swithin. ‘It was in my contract.’

  ‘Good to know.’ Zeven was relieved on that count. He noted his father appeared bewildered, so moved to comfort him.

  Mythric didn’t know what the right course of action was. ‘Does Satomi want this?’ He looked to the captain for an answer. As Kassa and Ayliscia approached to help Lucian translate, he held up a hand to let them know he didn’t need a translation. ‘She is nodding, laughing, crying, more nodding … I’d say she is keen.’

  Mythric began to choke on the expectation of what the next few minutes might hold and Zeven hugged his shoulders for support.

  ‘Looks like true happiness might be a bit closer than the next life after all, hey what?’ Lucian commented to Mythric, whose fear appeared to melt away. He fathomed the reality he now faced was very different to what he’d come to expect his life would be over the past two and a half decades.

  ‘Do you know how to crack this thing open?’ Swithin asked Kassa, who moved to look over the control panel.