The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix (90 page)

Jonathan was abhorred at what he was
hearing. Planetee silenced him. “Don’t resist it! It is your
destiny... Your God ordained it, and my kind has honored it. No, my
friend, you cannot escape your future any more than I can escape my
past.”

She lifted her glass, drawing his attention
to it. “Now, you can do as I have done…disown your soul and
repudiate your sanity… or you can turn to this for help.” At that,
she tipped up the glass and gulped down the hard liquor. Setting
the glass back on the table, she wiped her lips dry. “Truth be
told, the stuff only lets you forget for but a moment, but the
following sick headache helps to keep your mind off it a bit
longer.”

Jebbson spoke up, downing the last of his
rum. “The Lady speaks with wisdom, my fine fellow. Listen and heed
what she says. It becomes easier when you view only the objective
and ignore the means you’re forced to take to achieve it. Indeed!
War can become quite fun if you, you know, stick to only the
meaningless, cold numbers, forgetting the hearts and souls behind
them.”

Planetee peered into Jebbson’s face,
wondering the true meaning of his statement. His hardened gaze told
it all. Here was a man who had surrendered up all to attain the
valued prize. There was no judgment or ridicule found in his eyes.
The man understood well the price to be paid for such service and
accepted without hesitation the cost. She puzzled about him, seeing
that he had discovered a way to retain his sanity in the insane
world of war. Did he have hidden knowledge from which she could
benefit?

Reaching out and taking Jebbson’s hand,
Planetee silently stared into the man’s eyes, hers pleading for
understanding and sympathy. Jebbson did not disappoint, in only
moments of quiet contemplation he beginning to tear down her walls
of guilt and self-loathing, renewing ever so slightly a desire in
her heart to live and to love again. Whatever powers this man
possessed, she wanted to experience more of them.

Jonathan suddenly broke the silence by
calling out to someone entering the tavern, motioning the woman
over. “Chess! Chess! Come on over here. It’s good to see you!”

Chasileah stood there, awkwardly wondering
what to do, seeing that her former commanding general sat in the
booth with Jonathan. Finally surrendering to the fellow’s constant
pleas, she slowly made her way over.

After politely sitting, Jonathan ordered
Chasileah and the others a round of cold cider. Seeing a distraught
look on Chasileah’s face, believing the woman held her responsible
for the ruin of her regiment at Bauglow, Planetee reached over and
took Chasileah’s hand, her eyes speaking volumes of pleading
emotion. Whether Chasileah understood or not, it served as a curing
salve for her heart to have it done so. The two women quietly sat,
staring into each other’s eyes while Jonathan and Jebbson went on
about some rather unimportant issues.

Finally Jonathan asked Chasileah about her
visit to Oros. She answered, “I was making some important
deliveries for the Postal that brought me over this way. When
finished with my duties, the last of the day’s sky ferries was long
since departed. I wanted to head back to Palace City tonight, so
decided to take the twelve-thirty rail-stage back. It’s a slow
ride, but I can catch some rest on the way.”

Jonathan leaned forward, smiling. “I was
going to leave for Palace City in the morning, but have no reason
to stay here tonight. Would you like some company on the
rail-stage? I’ve got my pack with me.” He frowned. “You said you
wanted to get some sleep.”

Chasileah was honestly polite. “I’m tired.
It’s been a long day, but yes, I would enjoy your company on the
way back. Besides, keeping me company doesn’t mean we need
entertain each other the entire trip. There will be plenty of time
for talking and napping.”

Seeing the hour, the two stood to leave,
Jebbson and Planetee doing the same. They all walked to the door
together and into the warm, starry night, not parting until
Jonathan and Chasileah passed through the doors of the Oros Low
Station. Jebbson and Planetee stood there for some time until they
saw the rail-stage begin its slow, ponderous ascent through the
city for its next stop further up the mountain. Eventually it would
arrive at the Oros High Station, then make for the Obeb High Pass,
over the mountains, and down the western slopes for Palace
City.

Jebbson finally broke the silence. Taking
Planetee’s hand, he mused, “The sunrise is ever so beautiful when
seen from the high bluffs above the city. I have a machine that can
take us there in a jiffy. Can I talk you into accepting my
invitation?”

Planetee blushed, like a maiden experiencing
her first flirting. “The pleasure would be all mine, my fine
gentleman fellow.”

The morning found Planetee waking to soft
breezes drifting up from the valley below as the sun was peering
over the hills, turning the sky brilliant hues of burnished red.
She sat up quickly to take in the mesmerizing scene. Doing so, the
woman looked about, noticing the scattering of clothing all around
them. Leaning back on her hands, Planetee closed her eyes, dreamily
recalling their earlier romantic interlude that had so warmed her
soul and refreshed her spirit.

The sun broke over the distant mountains,
casting its warm, golden glow down upon the two people high atop
the bluffs. Reaching out, Planetee placed her hand on Jebbson’s
chest as he lay there sleeping. Thump... thump... thump... the even
beat of his heart warmed her, and his rhythmic breathing made her
wish this morning would never end. Well, let it last a little bit
longer. There was no rush, no hurry for the day to begin too
soon.

Planetee slowly sank down beside the
peacefully sleeping Jebbson. She snuggled up in his arm, resting
her head on his shoulder. Jebbson grumbled something inaudible,
wrapping his arm about the woman and drawing her close. Soon
Planetee had drifted back off to sleep, her heart beating in rhythm
with the man holding her.

* * *

“Why must you leave now?” Ardon whined.
“Tomorrow’s the Council. Mother said you could come if you wished.
Why must you depart on that…that old
ore freighter
the…the…MoonDust? Dangerous it is, what with all those hot fuel
rods for the outer reaches. Besides, the SueTondie is making
straight for the Trizentine when it leaves in a few days. The
captain told me so himself. You will be home to Exothepobole in no
time at all.”

Tashi was polite, but firm. “Now we’ve
already talked this out. Mother was polite, but she knows I’m
needed back home, and soon. The Stasis are becoming bolder by the
day. The collier, MoonDust, is a substantial little ship,
comfortable and quite safe. It runs a tight schedule to Eneweah
City, on TilgathPilneser, to drop off the last of its hot fuel rods
before being off to Desiah with the spent ones. I’ll arrive on
TilgathPilneser, just in time to catch the imperial starliner,
Sunflower, before leaving on its monthly run for Exothepobole.”

She fussed with the collar on Ardon’s robe.
“I will be home in no time. Besides, the SueTondie is a Wildcatter
rig. I trust the captain to his word no more than a fickle breeze.
Well he may promise something, but just how easy he may forget it.
Remember, until recently, our main means of transport was by that
independent lot.”

She tipped her head back and called out in a
sailor’s voice, mimicking the Wildcatters. “Today, tomorrow, what’s
the difference? As long as there is rum in the barrels, food in the
hold, and fuel for the engines, what’s the hurry? Tomorrow...there
is always tomorrow.”

Tashi laughed, then gently cradling Ardon’s
face in her hands cooed, “It not going to be easy convincing the
population of Sustrepho the need to abandon their homes they have
held dear for so long a time, yet that is what Mihai’s council has
requested I attempt to do. Already the colonies of the Trizentine
are too lightly garrisoned. Should war come, the little support the
Navy provides us currently may vanish, leaving us on our own.”

Ardon whimpered. “Only a day or two more...
That’s all, a day or two. There’s so much more of the city for us
to see.”

Tashi shushed him, kindly chiding, “Tell me
the truth. You want me to warm your bed for a little longer, don’t
you? Haven’t got enough of me?”

Embarrassed, Ardon stammered with a
reply.

Tashi grinned, pressing her body against
his. “Enough. Enough... What is done is done. But…” She wrapped her
arms around his shoulders, her lips nearly touching his. “We have
tonight. Do you want to waste it arguing about something you can’t
change, or do you want to explore other worlds with me?”

Ardon could not argue with such a proposal,
at least not one coming from this woman who drove him mad with
passion. Oh, how he hated and loved her at the same moment! After
glancing about to see if anyone was noticing, he took Tashi’s hand,
the two scurrying off to some secluded place for one last night of
indulgent delights.

* * *

“
Oh, shit! I’m dying! I wish I was
dead!”
Darla’s foul ranting was cut short as she fell to her
knees and erupted in another violent outburst of vomiting.

Euroaquilo dropped the dish he was cleaning
and rushed over to render assistance. Darla heaved once more,
puking up little other than bloody mucus. Cradling her in his arms,
Euroaquilo attempted to support Darla’s head with a hand. The
vomiting bout finally came to a finish, leaving an exhausted woman
gasping for breath, while a tiny stream of drool oozed from chapped
and broken lips.

Since her blood share with Zadar, the girl
had been sick, oh, so very sick - blinding headaches with fits of
uncontrolled vomiting, bleeding from her eyes, ears, and other body
cavities, and terrible ghastly visions, while sleeping and awake.
Indeed, she had been in such a frightful state the first morning,
Zadar had rushed her to Lowenah, fearing the girl was dying.
Lowenah saw that she was very much still alive, but in a sorry
condition, suggesting she be taken to Euroaquilo.

Even with Euroaquilo’s curative efforts, the
surgeon was called upon, her latest visit this very morning. Little
could be done other than offer some mind-numbing painkillers, which
worked for a little while on the headache, but not on the vomiting
and severe diarrhea. When Darla took to bleeding in her tears,
Euroaquilo reached out to Gabrielle, who managed to ease the girl’s
distress a little.

“She needs some serious bed rest.” Gabrielle
recommended - the one form of medicine Darla could not afford to
take at the moment.

Euroaquilo was nearly in tears, pleading,
“Please! Go back to bed! Mother will understand if you can’t be
there! No one will question your decision to remain here. I’ll
inform them, telling them all about your sickness. I promise. I
promise...”

Darla glared at Euroaquilo.
“Damn you!
Don’t do this to me. I’m going if it should be the death of me! I
was invited! My heart tells me I must go. I
will
go. I…”
The woman was instantly consumed in
another bout of vomiting, passing out from the agony.

Darla woke with her head on a pillow, the
woman stretched out, lying on a divan. The surgeon was quietly
remarking to Euroaquilo, “I’ve given her enough to knock out a
horse. It will stop the seizures for a while, and ease the
headache. There’s nothing left inside her to come out, so I believe
she will be able to travel a bit, but I don’t recommend it.”

Darla waved an arm, fussing at what the
surgeon had said. Euroaquilo thanked the woman, walking with her to
the door. When he returned, he kneeled down beside Darla, asking if
he could get her something.

Gripping his hand, Darla made him promise,
“Swear to me that you will see to my arrival at the council. Swear,
even should it be only my dead carcass, that you will get me
there...”

Dismayed, Euroaquilo promised to do just as
she had asked. Darla relaxed, sighing, falling off, fast
asleep.

It was early afternoon when the auto-taxi
pulled up to the South Gate of the Palace Concourse. Along with the
driver’s assistance, Euroaquilo managed to get Darla up the granite
steps and through the concourse doors to the tramwaiter. The ride
from there to the tram waiters’ last stop up the North Concourse
just past the Winter Gardens was difficult for the girl. Moaning in
sick agony, she sat, head in hands, the motion of the tramwaiter
almost unbearable.

Euroaquilo felt tremendous pity for his
companion. She looked a fright – sallow-faced, sunken eyes and
disheveled hair. Euroaquilo had done the best he could, but Darla
was too sick to even bathe, let alone primp in front of a mirror.
Even the woman’s comely form was lost in a saggy uniform, she being
down over a stone and a half in weight.

The distance from the tramwaiter to the
entrance leading off the North Concourse into Lowenah’s private
world of the Upper Palace was not far, but for Darla it felt to
take a merciless eternity. Euroaquilo offered to carry his charge,
but she refused, saying her pride could not accept it. Eventually
they arrived at the long-sealed ornate doors that opened upward
toward the palace proper. Unable to make the stairs on her own, she
finally relented, permitting Euroaquilo to swoop her up in his
arms. Refusing to set her down after ascending the ornately carved
rock-hewn staircase, Euroaquilo carried the girl the remainder of
the way to a private theater buried deep within the palace
butte.

Darla remembered little until being placed
down in a chair some distance from the doors of the old theater.
Yes, it was an old theater, secluded deep within the bowels of the
butte under the Upper Palace proper, built during ages in time
immemorial. In fact, the story was that this theater was the very
place where Lowenah brought Chrusion when celebrating his coming of
age.