Below is the link to my book on the US Amazon site but can be searched and bought in all countries.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1097836304
PROXY
CHAPTER ONE
The
girl sighed.
There
was always that split second between sleeping and waking that Ceridwen Nairini
felt light and peaceful, when she would snuggle down under her course blanket,
burying herself in sleepy warmth. She always tried to hold onto the feeling as
long as she could but, with the specific thoughts of holding onto the
tranquillity, reality came crashing in. Her eyes would flutter open to inky
blackness, the smell of mould would invade her small nostrils and despair would
crush her as memory invaded.
She was
still in the room next to the cold cellar under the Keep. How long she’d been
there, she had no idea. Each day bled into the other with nothing significant
to separate them or make one stand out in her young mind. She knew what had put
her here; fear. But fear would not get her out.
The
five year old squeezed her eyes shut but there was no relief; eyes open or
closed, all she saw was endless darkness; the light overhead could only be
turned on from outside the thick, metal door. She held her breath, waiting to
hear the heavy footsteps down the hall way, wishing for them and dreading them
at the same time. With them came a tray of food and a clean dress carried by a
guard.
Who
would it be today? Felden of the quick, skittish mind who had a secret desire
to bed his mother in law, Berkis, desperately saving up to visit the pleasure
planet Milar or Jon, slow and pondering, not the brightest spark in the tool
shed, whose wildest dream was to own his own ondan for milk.
Ceridwen
didn’t really care which one it was; none of them would let her out, none of
them would be nice to her. She squeezed her eyes even tighter trying to
remember people other than the guards but faces didn’t swim behind her mind’s
eye, not even the faces of her parents who had put her down here. Like always,
all she could envisage was the forest behind the keep.
Dark
and possible, she remembered being able to see it from her old room, used to
watch the sun angle through the thick foliage to ray down onto the rich dirt
below. The little girl smiled at the memory as another crashed in; running
through the silky grass towards those trees, bare feet crushing bright flowers
as she hurtled into woods to hide and play. It struck her then that there must
have been someone who was nice to her once, someone who played with her. Surely
she hadn’t always been alone?
A face,
round and sunburned with a bulbous nose, eyes crinkling with a grin flashed
along with the scent of stinging sea salt and cool water in her hair. There was
no recognition, no name that came to her, just the face and the idea that they
were nice.
And
then came the most persistent thought, the one that almost superseded I want out.
If only I had a window…
The
little girl didn’t understand that she was below ground, that a window would
look out on a wall of rock and dirt, she just longed to see something other
than bare stone slick with condensation, naked stone floor. Apart from the
giant wall screen opposite her bed, the room held a table, chair, toilet and
sink. There were no toys or books, nothing to keep her mind occupied. The
screen was turned on with her light every morning and off every night but it
only played the one channel. She didn’t know what it was called but the
programmes were all about improving oneself; how to lead a good life, how to be
a good person, how to give to others and not be selfish. Ceridwen didn’t
understand half of what presenters droned on about so, instead, she made up
games. She counted how many times they said a particular word or tried to guess
what colour their eyes were without opening her own. She’d already counted
every stone in the room, measured its length with her body from one wall to the
other, counted the stitches that hemmed her blanket. But it didn’t matter how
she tried to distract herself, her thoughts wouldn’t leave her alone.
A window.
The
sound of footsteps intruded on her and she slowly sat up in bed, eyes still
shut as behind the lids, she saw the bright glare as the guard turned on the
light. The loud sound of the screen came on and she reluctantly got out of bed,
guardedly opening her eyes.
The
slot in the door was already open, a beefy arm extended into the room holding a
pale grey woollen dress; she wouldn’t get her food tray till she’d handed over
her night wear and put on the gown. She did so quickly, standing against the
wall beside the door to hide her nakedness. Perversely, she held back giving
over her night dress. It was Berkis behind the door and he was an impatient
man; sometimes she enjoyed tweaking him. Honestly, what else did they expect?
They
both waited, the arm hanging out of the slot started to shake and she could
hear his laboured breathing. Wouldn’t be long now.
“Please.”
He whispered hoarsely and Ceridwen almost giggled. “Please, I didn’t put you
here, it’s not my fault, don’t do it.”
Ah,
Berkis was so easy to rattle. She handed over the nighty and took the proffered
tray of food, placing it on her little table. The slot quickly shushed shut and
she could hear Berkis run back down the hall. Ceridwen sighed and sat down to
eat her oats and dried fruit. The food was as boring as her room, as her days.
“Today
we’re going to be showing how to clean your room – a tidy room means a tidy
mind!” A voice said gaily from the screen. The little girl didn’t even glance
up; what on earth did she have to tidy up?
Chewing
to swallow, she almost choked as a siren suddenly blared, huge red letters
flashing on the screen. She mouthed out the words having no idea what
‘Mandatory Viewing’ meant. To her, it was something new. New was good, new was
different.
A relatively
small planet replaced the flashing words, blue and green, slowly revolving on
its axis. The writing at the bottom of the screen named it Vicol; 3 billion
inhabitants, 24 million years old, part of the Galactic Accord for the last 700
years, one of five planets within their solar system that sustained life. In
other words, average, unimpressive, just like billions of other inhabited
planets throughout the galaxy. Yet here it was displayed on the Galactic
Channel, a mandatory broadcast via the Proxy Assembly Systems blaring into
every home and public domain on every planet within the Accord. The small
planet was under imminent attack. A fleet of matte black war ships hovered to
the side, dwarfed by the planet itself but menacing in their intent.
Ceridwen
was mesmerised. She couldn’t remember ever seeing anything like this before.
She could understand some of the smaller words, knew this was a planet but what
were the ships doing there? And then a smooth, commanding voice boomed out.
“Armada
of the New World, Relanta, you were given the choice three times before
folding. You have refused every time. You no longer have a choice. As per the Galactic
Accord that you have also agreed to, no peoples are permitted to make war on a
planet outside of their own system. It has always been thus and always will be.
As such, you are formally charged with waging war on Vicol, a planet outside
the system of Relanta.”
She
didn’t recognised the voice but she understood the intent now.
“Relanta,
you presumed the few Laws of the Galactic Accord either did not apply to you or
would not be enforced. As a result, you have now lost almost ten million of
your people. You have scarred families, gutted your economy and shamed
yourselves within the Galaxy you are a part of. You are free to withdraw from
the Galactic Accord at any time but you will still never be permitted to make
war on another Solar System.”
There
was sadness in the voice as it whispered. “You should not have tested me. I am
The Deciden”
Trembling
slightly, breath held waiting for disaster, for missiles to fire or for the
ships to be destroyed in a glorious conflagration, Ceridwen sat stiffly in her
chair, eyes glued to the screen.
But
there was no sound, no popping, no inrush of air, no clap of thunder.
The
entire armada simply disappeared from the screen as though wiped out with an
eraser.
Ceridwen
jumped, eyes wide with shock.
Where did they go?
The
Proxy was offered a ground car to take him to the spaceport.
“No
thank you, I’d rather walk.”
He was
offered an escort who knew the fastest route.
“No
thank you, I’d rather just take a stroll.”
For
goodness sake, he needed some time to himself. He’d just finished a Standard
Yearlong assignment as the appointed Resident Proxy for Lesistra. He needed
clear, crisp night air to quiet his mind so chose to walk down the wide,
descending boulevard that led away from the Palace, a decorative stream running
down the middle, lights blinking underneath the water as it bubbled down wide
steps towards the city below.
Perit
realised he was hungry and glanced around for an open eatery as a shallow
buzzing vibrated though his head. The Proxy pressed the answer button on the
com-link behind his ear.
“Perit,
Elite Proxy, 2nd Class.” he answered.
“Morning,
Perit.” rumbled a familiarly friendly voice.
Perit
made his way over to a nearby bench, coiled and tense.
“Evening
actually, Sir.” Perit replied.
Myte
grunted, “It's morning here so we'll go with that.”
“Yes
Sir.”
Silence
followed.
Perit realised
Myte may not have wanted to talk about the incident on Relanta but dived in
anyway. “What the hell happened on Relanta, Myte? There’s been no recent
intelligence that they were gearing up for a war, how could we have missed it?”
“You’re
not in the thick of things when you’re on assignment, Perit.” Myte snapped.
“There’s been plenty of intelligence regarding their movements; The Deciden
knew this was coming and our Proxy diplomats and shadows have been doing
everything they could to forestall such an outcome.”
“Then…how?”
Perit was astounded.
“Relanta
honestly believed they wouldn’t be stopped, apparently. Happens every few
millennia. Some poor schmuck is elected to power, convinces everyone else that
the Accord is just words that The Deciden is a figment of the imagination, a
god that is worshipped but that doesn’t really exist. You know how it is.”
“I’m
not concerned with Relanta’s motivation; that crap is understandable – only
Proxies have ever really seen The Deciden himself. But we have systems and
firewalls, procedures in place to stop this kind of thing from spiralling out
of control. No one on Relanta should have even been able to garner enough
support for such an undertaking.”
“Ah,
Perit.” Myte sighed tiredly. “It’s part of the Accord; each Solar System
governs itself. We don’t interfere, we do damage control and diplomacy and
mediation. Vicol apparently does a roaring trade in second grade gold,
something Ralenta prides themselves on and thought they would be able to
monopolise the market. They didn’t want competition. But that was just an
excuse for a very warlike race. We did what we could but in the end, The
Deciden solved the problem.”
Perit
snorted. “And now we have to clean it up. I’d like to be one of the Proxy’s you
send in to stabilise.”
“They’ve
already been dispatched, Perit. Besides I need you for something more
important.”
Obric
Myte Newfort was one of ten within the Obric Council; assistants to the Deciden
himself in administrating the Galactic Accord. Both he and Perit had gone
through Proxy training together over a century ago but Myte’s unique abilities
to lead and manage saw him rise higher than his friend. Having never desired
that level of authority, Perit was content with Myte being the boss of his
direct superior, Elite Proxy Van, 1st class. But this also meant he
was too high up to be giving out assignments personally; Perit was instantly on
guard.
“More
important?” Perit sputtered. “Myte there has never been an attempted war on
another system within our lifetimes, what could be more important than being
involved in the clean-up of such a disaster?”
“Trust
me.” Myte said quietly. “Your specific skills are more needed elsewhere
although the assignment will be unusually long.”
“Van
usually contacts me with my next task, Sir.” Perit reminded unnecessarily,
prompting an explanation.
Myte
cleared his throat. “Oh, I just felt like touching base with you, seeing how
you’re going.” There was a forced note of gaiety in his voice that put Perit on
further alert. “It's a bit of an unusual mission. As you know, duration can
vary depending on what's involved.”
“Okay.” Perit said slowly “You do know you could just tell me
rather than beating around the bush, Myte.” The use of his first name was not
lost on the superior.
Myte sighed. “You haven't changed since Proxy training, Perit.
Alright, there's a five-year-old girl in System 736 in need of... protection.
Well, it's a long story, I'll send you the full report but, suffice it to say,
she's the daughter of the planet's ‘High Noble’, whatever rank that is. Latro
Nairini: he’s the ancestor of the founding colonist, Tyran, who colonised the
system's second planet at the request of The Deciden.”
Perit let out a slightly awed whistle. “There have only been a
dozen or so recorded planet colonisations directed by The Deciden throughout
Galactic Accord History. Calling in an ancestral debt?”
“Kind of. Look, from what we know, she's a strange, highly
intelligent child; has been almost completely isolated because of past
incidents. She’s withdrawn, indifferent...”
Perit cut in. “That's no cause for giving her over to the Proxy's,
Myte, because I’m assuming that's what's actually happened here; she's being
relinquished.”
“Correct. I haven't spoken to the girl but I have had a
holo-meeting with the parents and, well...the mothers under Mental Care at the
moment.”
“It's that serious? Is she a physically violent child?” Perit
asked.
“No physical violence, it's…something else but, yes, it's that
serious. Like I said, it will be a long assignment. She is legally being handed
over to the Resident Proxy in a few hours.”
“Why is the Proxy Assembly dabbling in such a small matter? It's
just one child; hardly important. Why wasn't she placed in permanent care on
her home planet? I'm sure they'd have the facilities; most civilisations do.”
They were both silent as Perit watched the sun finally sink behind
the mountain range, lights along the boulevard automatically blinking on. He
was too preoccupied to marvel at the array of colours across the horizon as he
usually did at this time of day.
“We've known each other a long time, Myte, so be honest with me –
is this as you say or are we about to brand a child as weird and unwanted only
to feed a mother's mental instability? We're the upholders of the Galactic
Accord, not a hostel for unwanted children.” Perit said, rubbing his smooth
jawline.
“The matter has been investigated. The mother has no history of
anything like this during her lifetime or in her bloodline. They have the
standard genetic and psychological screening on Nairini and sterilise any who
fail before puberty. Post-birth distress has also been ruled out due to the
child’s age.”
“You think it's her fault?” Perit’s eyes narrowed, suspicious of
Myte’s deliberate avoidance in answering why this was a Proxy issue.
“Seems to be. I need to give this one to someone reliable, Perit.
You've been the escort and guardian for young adults for over a hundred years;
you're specifically trained to protect, to guide. But you also understand
people and what makes them tick, an invaluable ability that is vital in this
case. And...you may be required to do what is needed.” Myte said the last
quietly.
Perit finally understood.
“So I'm to assess and eliminate if necessary?”
“Only on my direct order, Proxy, but yes, that's the gist of it.”
“I see.” Perit muttered. He'd been on assassination missions
before but they had always been obvious threats to the Galactic Accord; people
that were causing, or could potentially cause, strife outside their own
systems.
She's
just a little girl.
“She’ll be put on the first puddle-jumper the local Proxy can
commandeer and you’ll be informed when she should be in your orbit.”
“Wait.” Perit laughed slightly “I haven't even agreed yet. Has she
started education? What's her medical history? Does she even have a Translation
Implant? Would be silly if we couldn't talk to each other. After all, I'd have
to be her Protector till she reaches Majority if she isn't terminated, right?”
“The official report will tell you all you need to know. Nairini
isn't a backward planet, for all their adherence to old government; the girl
has Full Immunity status and had her translator implanted at birth as most
children do. And yes, you would be her Sub Parent till Majority…But I'm not
asking on this one, Proxy, I'm ordering.”
Perit froze at the Obric’s words, hairs prickling on the back of
his neck.
“This is from The Deciden himself, isn't it?” He breathed,
incredulously.
Myte immediately launched into a list of all the materials that
had been dispatched to Perit for him to carry out his assignment as well as the
astonishing ‘unlimited funds’ account that was now programmed for any
Encephalote to identify Perit's brain wave pattern.
He was dumbfounded.
“So it's all been set up.” Myte continued “There's a large transport
scheduled to depart Lesistra in four days; you shall both be on it. I've
arranged for their first Fold to go directly to Tri-Nor in System 89; the
Resident Proxy there has been informed and will meet you at the Capital
Phiron's spaceport. I'll expect weekly reports unless something important comes
up to which you shall contact me immediately. Those above and below have been
notified that you are reporting directly to me from now on.”
“Understood.” Perit said. Myte’s obvious reluctance to answer
confirmed it; for some reason, The Deciden was interfering on a personal level,
something unheard of.
Although,
he admitted to himself, how
would I know if it had ever happened before?
“So, I'll hear from you in a Galactic week or earlier if something
comes up. Myte out.” and, with that, the com clicked off.
A
young girl apparently driving her mother insane and The Deciden rescues her
Perit shook his head. That's far more
than a mere favour
He stayed on the bench speculating till long after the first moon
started to rise.
Latro Nairini sat at his wide, wooden desk leafing through
dispatches ready to go out. There was a knock at his door.
“Enter.” He snapped.
A servant in plain brown clothing slunk in, announcing the arrival
of the Resident Proxy, Nexter, 6th Class.
Short, fat and balding, a green clad man strode towards the desk
with a wide smile on his pudgy face.
Latro’s momentary hesitation before standing and offering an
official nod of his head in greeting did not go unnoticed.
Nexter chuckled as he nodded in return. “You’re lucky I’m so easy
going, Latty; not many Proxies would stand for your recalcitrance.”
The High Noble quickly sat back down, false smile plastered across
his face.
“I’m sure you can understand that, with my wife where she is, I
may not be as quick to follow protocol as usual…and be forgiven for such
slips.”
“Of course, of course.” Nexter agreed. He’d just come from seeing
Latro’s wife Rana at the sanatorium. He hadn’t been allowed in her room,
viewing her through a one way mirror instead as she lolled in a chair, spittle
dribbling from the corners of her thin mouth. He’d known this was coming, saw
the once strong woman disintegrate before his eyes but Latro, apparently, had
been oblivious and having to institutionalise had come as a shock.
“I take it everything has been arranged with your Proxies?” Latro snapped.
“Yes. A small Folder has entered Orbit and is waiting. I am here
for the girl.”
“Good. I’ll have her brought up to the main lobby.” The man went
to speak into his communicator as Nexter held up a thick hand.
“I will not wait in a vestibule like a guest. You will take me to
her.”
Of equal rank on this planet, neither could order the other. But
Latro knew too well – off planet, Latro was a nobody while this squat man,
sweating onto the back of his chair, served a being who could wink the High
Noble out of existence with less than a thought and no provocation.Latro needed
the Proxy Assembly on his side and the decision had been made.
I’m
going to have to tell the people she died in an accident. Rana will just have
to produce a new heir as soon as possible to forestall public concern.
He grimaced at the idea; the idea repulsed him. His mistresses
wouldn’t be pleased. Latro shrugged it off. His composure came from resolution.
The girl had finally gone too far. He’d had to put her in the basement after
finding Rana catatonic in the girl’s room one night. He’d told Rana last year
to leave the care of the girl to the servants, to stop subjecting herself to
such torment but she’d defied him, to her own detriment. Now, with his wife
mentally unfit, he had no choice. As much as he disliked Rana, it was easier
for the girl to disappear from public view than the High Noble’s wife so the
girl had to go. And as cold a man as he was, he couldn’t stomach putting the
girl to death - that much he knew.
This was his only solution.
And if he wanted this deal he had made to go through, he would
have to toe this repulsive man’s line. Nexter watched Latro, almost able to
read the thoughts as they played across his expressive face, orange eyelashes
fluttering.
The Proxy cleared his throat impatiently; he’d never liked the
High Noble and liked him even less now that he was giving up his only child.
Latro stood quickly, knocking his heavy desk slightly askew. “Follow
me.” He commanded, striding out.
They went down empty stone hallways as Nexter puffed along behind
the tall man. It got colder as they wound their way down a wide, circular
stairwell at the rear of the Keep, coming to a steel door set into the wall at
the end of a short corridor.
Latro pressed his hand into the wall plate. The door swung inward
to reveal a brightly lit room, cold and impersonal.
Nexter grit his teeth and bit his tongue; it looked like a dungeon.
As much authority as he had as a Proxy, he could not interfere in the everyday
running of a planet, let alone an individual household. But, oh, how he would
love to teach the High Noble a thing or two.
Latro gestured the man in but refused to enter himself, standing
in the doorway as the Proxy lumbered down the short steps to stand in the
middle of the room. Ceridwen sat at her little table beside her bed and stared
levelly at Nexter. He suddenly realised that this little girl had been kept a
secret, even from him. What he didn’t understand was why. Sweet cherub face,
cherry red hair and wide, violet eyes that calmly appraised him, Nexter was at
a complete loss.
Thank
Deciden I’m getting you the hell out of here, little one, he
thought as he took another step into the room and gave her his biggest,
friendliest smile. He opened his mouth to speak and felt a buzzing in the back
of his head.
She stood up, her full dress falling to cover bare feet as Latro
visibly flinched in the doorway quickly stepping back. Ceridwen walked over to
the Proxy sedately and put her hand in his big meaty paw.
“I’d like to leave now.” She said quietly looking up at him.
It hadn't taken Perit long to organise adjoining rooms at his
current hotel for the next four days and move his belongings. He then spent a
good hour with the Hotel Manager requisitioning the different items he would
require added to the second bedroom for the little girl. Alone again, he was
finally able to sit at his Personal Holo Processor and read through the report
Obric Myte had transmitted along with her arrival time.
Half an hour later, he found himself flicking back through,
wondering why it was so short.
Twenty
years on one assignment, Perit shook his head in wonder as he
leaned back in his chair.
He closed his eyes, taking steadying breaths to organise his
thoughts but there was so little to go on. It's
almost as if no one knows anything about her as a person. Even the shortest
assignments’ Official Reports were complete with personal details; preferences,
personality profile and, often the most useful, do's and don’ts, why not his
one? Perit mused. Myte’s voice patterns had exhibited stress and restraint.
He wished he knew why.
When he opened his eyes again, he realised the girls ship would be
landing in two hours.
Perit stood and moved into the clear space in his room, starting
the second of his twice-daily physical routines to keep his reflexes sharp and
his muscles supple. He heard the hotel staff installing what he'd requested in
the other room while he flowed through the movements.
An hour later, showered and dressed, he went to see if everything
had been set up.
The door between their rooms slid aside at his approach to reveal
a decent sized space with child-sized bed and furniture and pale grey walls.
Under the large window stood the handcrafted dollhouse, an extremely expensive
item that he’d been pleased to find the Hotel kept for children of visiting
dignitaries and royalty.
He crossed the thick, soft carpet and palmed open the cupboard
wall, nodding in satisfaction at the wide variety of clothes, games and toys
the staff had selected. Perit decided not to change the colour of the walls
until he found out more about the girl’s likes and dislikes. The Proxy’s steps
automatically paused for a fraction of a second as he walked out his door, the
Encephalote on the lintel scanning his brain waves and locking the door behind
him.
As he left the hotel and briskly walked the short distance to the
spaceport, Perit went over the few details that were in the report.
Five Standard Years old, five point six units tall, violet eyes
and hair the colour of ripe Brezin berries. Perit had smiled at the description
knowing exactly which Proxy had written it on Nairini.
Good
ol' Nexter, he thought as he approached the Port; high, plaz entry doors
opening with a loud whoosh as he neared. Nexter had always been chastised and
marked down during training for making his reports too ‘casual’. Personally,
Perit had always enjoyed his more descriptive language.
He stopped at the nearest info-holo and saw that the girl’s ship
would be alighting at dock thirteen. He chose the ‘show me’ option and followed
the lit pathway towards the dock. Being the first hour of a new day, the port
was relatively deserted. There were mostly servo and attendant bots waiting at
attention in the stark corridor and on either side at each dock lounge.
With only half a body from hips upwards, as always, bots looked
incomplete to Perit as they hovered noiselessly at desks and doorways, metallic
casings shining, chest plates glowing green to indicate available for service.
He entered dock thirteen, a servo bot standing by the doors to the
walkway that connected to landing shuttles. Perit sat in the nearest seat to
wait, closing his eyes to think without distraction.
There had been no other physical or personal descriptions, only a
brief line about lineage. The rest of the report went into detail, complete
with formal language and legal notations, of her ‘adoption’ by the Proxy
Assembly. There was no mention of why, only a last line stating Perit's
appointment as the girls Guardian Proxy ‘till Majority or demise’.
What
a nasty phrase
What puzzled him most was the Personality Profile; it was
completely blank. Her biological parent’s profiles were included but shed
little light on their daughter.
They were the lineal rulers of the planet which only boasted a
small land mass, the rest being ocean. As such, the ruling of four billion
inhabitants seemed rather insignificant. For all that it was a small planet,
they seemed to thrive due to the abundance of plump, delicious aquatic life,
exporting such in trade for manufactured goods, off planet.
Her parents themselves were unremarkable; seemingly well liked if
not tolerated as rulers by their subjects. As far as Perit could ascertain from
the report, they were plain, normal people with nothing to make them stand out.
It only added to his confusion.
He sensed the android moving before he felt the light tap on his
shoulder, and opened his liquid brown eyes.
“Excuse me, Sir, the landing vehicle has touched down and is going
through the disembarking procedure.” It stated in a tinny voice, bowing its
shiny, metal head deeply then glided back to open the doors.
The lights down the long walkway came on in sequence and the Proxy
stood up, stretching. As he went over and stood in front of the exit, Perit
realised he was nervous.
He'd carried out assassinations before, some clearly necessary,
other's he'd had to work out the reasons why before he could exterminate a
person with a clear conscience. Terminations dictated by the Proxy Assembly
were usually political and the ramifications of inaction would have been felt
on a Galactic scale, usually obvious even to an average citizen.
Try as he might, however, Perit couldn't fathom how one little
girl could affect more than one System, let alone the Galaxy as a whole.
The Attendant bot's chest turned from green to purple, indicating
‘In Service’ as Perit saw them; two men walking briskly with a child in between
whose hand was held tightly by the one on the right.
Light reflected off the girls long red hair that hung in a curtain
from her drooping head causing an almost halo effect. She looked small for her
age, tense, like elastic stretched too tight and ready to snap. Her legs
trembled slightly as she tried to pull her hand out of the man's grip.
Holy
Deciden, Perit thought, she's
absolutely petrified.
As they neared, he could detect the faint odour of fear but
smelled nothing of injuries or abuse. Perit relaxed his stance and face in
response, arms loosely at his side; he didn't want to add to her anxiety.
The girl jerked to a stop just before the open double doors and
the man let go of her. The two attendants, identical pale blue uniforms and
pale smiles, halted before the Proxy, bowing their heads deeply.
Perit nodded slightly in return. “I am Elite Proxy Perit
Minot-Tenora, 2nd Class.”
“We are Ships Security. I am Twelve and this is Seventeen.” The
one on the right said. “Will you submit to an identity scan?” He asked
politely.
“Of course.” Perit agreed and glanced at the girl, smiling. But
she remained in the doorway, staring at the stark, white floor.
Twelve unhooked the portable Encephalote from his hip and held it
in front of Perit’s forehead. After a few seconds, the attendant checked the
holo-display and visibly relaxed.
“Well met, Proxy.” Twelve said with a smile. “Was a quick fold so
we didn't have much time to get to know this little one.” He walked back to the
girl and gently led her to stand in front of Perit. “But she's been no trouble
at all, quiet as space, just stared out the windows...in fact, she hasn't said
a word yet.” He chuckled and ruffled her hair.
The girls head jerked up, startling violet eyes framed in long,
black lashes narrowed, glaring up at the man beside her.
“That's a lie.” she said, flatly.
“You asked me for a fizzy drink once we reached the troposphere.”
Twelve blurted out in one breath, grabbing the back of his head. The guard
looked puzzled, blushing.
The little girl went back to staring at the floor, trembling.
An awkward silence followed as Perit frowned, wondering what had
motivated such instant offence to such a small lie.
“Your shuttle is ready to return, Sirs.” the Port Attendant at the
door reported.
Perit snapped out of his reverie. “Thank you for your care of the
girl. Remember to lodge a Completion of Delivery once on board; my superiors
will be waiting for confirmation.”
The two men nodded respectfully and headed back down the walkway
to their shuttle.
“One moment.” Perit called out and Twelve turned around “How many
luggage crates does she have?”
“No luggage at all, Sir.” He said and hurried after his partner,
the Port Attendant closing the doors behind them.
They were left in silence.
Soundproof walls and engine dampening deadened the noise of shuttles
landing and taking off outside and, at this time of the morning, there were no
bustling families or frustrated businessmen cursing into their coms. The man
and girl stood quietly amongst the muffled whirring of air circulators and far
off announcements.
She stood only a few steps away but, to Perit, it felt as though
there were a deep chasm separating them and that if he moved wrong, she would
fall. He felt his heart wrench slightly as he realised he would have to get to
know her before he could kill her...if he had to. Bringing his training to the
fore, judging by her response, he suspected he should be honest with her.
At
least she seems to hate lies, he thought.
So deciding, he lithely sat cross-legged on the cold, tile floor
in front of the little girl.
The Port bot at the doors raised a silver eyebrow and watched the
dignified Proxy, patiently waiting, sitting like a child. Minutes passed before
the girl became curious enough to raise her head slightly. Perit was smiling
warmly at her.
“Hi there. My name is Perit. What's your name?”
She raised her head a little more, face tense with fear, body stiffy
trembling. Inky black pupils bore into him, searching his features. The small
child seemed to come to a conclusion as she cocked her head slightly to the
side and asked, “Can I stop now?”
Wondering at her phrasing, Perit smiled at the slight lisp to her
s’s.
“Almost. In four days, we'll board a much larger Cruiser than you
were just on and then it's just one more Fold till we get to our new home. But
you will be handed over to no more strangers; your uncertainty can stop here
with me.”
Peering into his eyes intently, Perit marvelled at the violet
irises with small flecks of green. Her face, if looking at the features
separately, looked almost out of place. Her small chin was overly pointy, the
button nose almost too small, chubby cheeks as red as her lips. But it was the
starkly black, long lashes framing those amazing eyes that leapt out at a
person, even deeply shadowed with fatigue.
And it was those eyes that brought all of it together to make her
face almost excruciatingly perfect. Knowing how deceiving looks could be, the
Proxy wondered what was behind such innocence. Realising he'd been staring at
her for too long, Perit noticed that her trembling had diminished and she was
calmly gazing back at him, head still slightly askew.
“Ceridwen Nairini.” She said quietly.
Perit grinned then groaned theatrically as he uncrossed his legs
and stood up. He was rewarded with a small smile.
“Ugh, my bones. You'd think I was old, Ceridwen.” He grumbled and
gestured for her to follow him out of the dock. “But I’m only one hundred and
fifty-one standard years old and still in my prime, little miss.”
As they walked through the corridors back to the entrance, Perit
shortened his stride to match her small steps. He kept up a light chatter,
asking where she'd got the travelling suit she wore as it was identical to his
Proxy uniform, laughing when Ceridwen haltingly described how the Niarini Proxy
had shrunk one of his when she expressed a liking for it.
The little girl brushed her hand over the emblem near her left
collar bone. “I like this picture a lot; it’s pretty.”
It was the Proxy Assembly’s official emblem; a circle with their
galaxy standing out in relief, done in green thread with real chips of white
crystal studded throughout representing the systems of the Galactic Accord.
“That’s the Proxy insignia.” He said as he absently took her hand,
feeling it tense slightly.
He suspected that with the slightest wrong step, like a frightened
turtle, she'd quickly retreat back into her shell. But the little girl started
to look around her, taking an interest in the surroundings that she hadn't
shown back at the dock. Noticing them for the first time, Ceridwen stared at
the attendant bots, scattered at intervals along the hallway, as they passed.
Perit felt her gently tug on his hand as she asked “What are those
half body things?”
They came to the entrance and Perit stopped in front of the
Attendant at the open doors.
“These? They're Servo’s; robots, androids, metal attendants –
they’re called lots of things but they’re just artificial humans that are
programmed to do specific things. These ones run the Space Port on the ground
level, help passengers like the one that was at the dock.”
Ceridwen looked up at the robot intently, almost searchingly.
“Can they think?” She asked.
“Not like a human, no. Most civilisations integrated into the Galactic
Accord have tried to create an artificial intelligence at some point through
their evolution; none have ever succeeded. You can have a conversation with
them but their responses are limited to factual knowledge and incoming data
when streaming. Basically, Ceridwen, they can only do and say what they're
programmed to.”
She stared for a moment longer then looked back at Perit, beaming.
“They're silent.” She enthused, delighted.
Puzzled, he smiled back, and then led her out into the night.
By the time they reached the hotel, a yawning Ceridwen had almost
exhausted Perit’s knowledge of Servo’s and automated machines. He was a little
surprised she hadn't been exposed to such technology as it was pretty common
within the households of country and planetary leaders like her father, the
High Noble.
Once inside, hotel staff quickly scanned and lodged Ceridwen’s
encephalon pattern for identification purposes then left them alone in their suite.
Perit showed her into the room that would be hers and stood back to study her
reaction.
The young girl hesitantly walked in, eyes wide and instantly
awake. She drank it all in, the cupboard doors left deliberately open for her
to see all the toys and clothes inside. She’d been taken straight from her
parents Keep by hovercar to the spaceship; a boring white blob, inside and out.
Granted, these walls were as grey as the ones she’d lived in for goodness knows
how long but there were other colours now in curtains of heavy cream with gold
filigree, bedspread of the same nubby material and colour, bright green, blue
and red carpeting…and toys.
“Now, I’ve left the walls grey so that you could pick what colour
you want them to be.” Perit said, indicating the control panel on the wall. “So
what's your favourite colour, missy?”
Ceridwen looked around, overwhelmed by all the colour, bewildered.
Then she spotted the doll’s house and froze. It was custom made by Anders, a
Galactically famous artist who never made two the same. With its own
micro-Celeation generator, it had halogen lighting, running water from the
small, refillable tank attached to the rear and even a mini Victualator which
actually produced real, if tiny, edible food. The Proxy Assembly commissioned
at least five a year and gave them as gifts to orphanages throughout the
galaxy. This particular one had a deep blue, gabled roof, walls a paler,
sweeter blue with white shutters on the windows and window seats jutting out
from the first floor. The hinges, doorhandles, light fixtures, even the cutlery
were all made from rare Astrinian gold, plates, sinks and bathtub from smooth,
glistening porcelain.
When the Hotel Manager had given Perit the list of available toys
and he'd seen ‘Anders Creation’, he'd jumped at getting it for Ceridwen;
observing how a child played was a good way to assess base personality. He
didn't know whether she'd ever had one or not; many wealthy, planetary leaders
spoiled their offspring, much to Perit’s annoyance.
By her reaction, he guessed she was not one of these children.
“Is...is that a little house?” Ceridwen whispered.
By
Deciden, she's never even seen a dollhouse, Perit thought.
“Yes. They're called dollhouses. There's furniture and people
dolls inside, even a little baby doll. A lot of children like to play with
them; move the dolls around, pretend they're real people, moving about, living
their lives.”
“Am I allowed to do that?” She asked, looking longingly at the
blue and white miniature building even as she yawned.
“Of course, but not now. It's way past rest time. What you can do
now is pick out a night dress and get into bed.”
He led her over to the cupboard where she stood gawking at the
hanging clothes in confusion till Perit took out a red, linen nightie with
small orange flowers on it and gave it to her. He went into his room and got
into his nightwear while she changed. He went back in a few minutes later to
get her to brush her teeth.
The little girl was curled up in front of the closed dollhouse
fast asleep. Perit picked her up and tucked her into bed. Ceridwen snuggled
down, rousing slightly, smiling sleepily at him.
“Green, like a forest.” She whispered.
There was a long road ahead of him, gaining her trust and
discovering what, if any, reason there would be for her termination. Perit was
surprised to realise he was looking forward to getting to know her and changed
the wall colour to forest green with a smile.
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