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CHAPTER I

Visit. Or Not.



“If you go with them, you will die.” The General of the Pharaoh’s Army scowled at her sister Lavinda. “That is unacceptable.”

Bhaaj stayed back from the arguing sisters and kept her mouth shut. The chamber where they stood practically oozed serenity, from its sky-blue walls to its many windows. Yah, sure. Right now, it felt about as calm as someone shouting, “No way!”

General Vaj Majda stood taller than everyone else in the room, indeed taller than most anyone alive, even her imposing sisters, Lavinda and Corejida. All three had the black hair and dark eyes of Skolian royalty, a trio of inexcusably wealthy human beings with enough power to crash a few planets together if they got angry enough. Not that planet-bashing technology existed, but what the hell. If they’d actually wanted to do it, instead of just sounding like they did, they’d have found a way. Majda always triumphed.

Colonel Lavinda Majda met her sister’s glare without a flinch. As an army officer, she served in Vaj’s chain of command. The middle sister, Corejida, had remained a civilian; she ruled the financial empire the House of Majda had built over the millennia, since the age when their ancestors rode as conquering warrior queens and inflicted enough barbarism on the universe to last an eon. These days, the Majdas increased their holdings in a more civilized manner—like taking over the economies of entire worlds. Why bother with bloodthirsty armies? Just buy everything on the fucking planet.

“Or maybe these people you want to visit won’t murder you,” Vaj continued, relentless. “They’d benefit more by taking you hostage. We never bargain with kidnappers, but you are my sister and heir, which means we’d have to negotiate.” She crossed her arms. “So no. You will not visit the Undercity.”

Bhaaj wanted to curse to the sky. Would this mission die before it started? She’d come with her protégé Angel to discuss Lavinda’s visit. Or so they’d thought. Angel waited at her side, taciturn and still, as if they could vanish into their silence. Good luck with that. They stood out like throbbing thumbs someone had slammed in an old-fashioned door. With their curly hair and subtle differences in features, anyone would know they came from the Undercity, which supposedly meant they might go wild and beat up everyone in sight. Never mind that Bhaaj had served in the army for twenty years and then as a private investigator for the elite of an empire.

It was true, though, that Angel looked as angelic as a jackhammer. Strong and powerful, gorgeous in her vibrant youth, she made no attempt to hide the tattoos, scars, and circuit-diagrams that covered her muscled biceps. She’d run with a dust gang since childhood, with all the angelic behaviors that implied, like beating up rival gangs. Despite her upscale clothes today, she obviously didn’t come from the City of Cries.

Goddess, what a name. Seriously, Cries? What did they have to weep about? Sure, they lived on a world that had been dying for millennia, until even in its kindest regions it threatened to barbecue its human settlers. Except the Majdas lived here, and they wanted a nice place for their palace. Like paradise. Sorry, Cries, you can’t die yet. Not that anyone objected to it existing as one of the most starkly beautiful cities in an interstellar empire. They just chose to forget the Undercity, that so-called slum hidden in ruins beneath the desert.

“I’ll have protection.” Lavinda motioned at Bhaaj and Angel. “Major Bhaajan and her Dust Knights.”

Vaj gave Bhaaj the slightest nod, her only acknowledgement that Bhaaj had worked on retainer to the House of Majda for over four years now. She barely glanced at Angel.

Don’t disrespect my protégé, Bhaaj thought. Angel didn’t look offended, though. More than anything, she seemed curious about the sisters.

“It’s still too risky,” Vaj told Lavinda.

“I’m willing to take the risk,” Lavinda said. “This visit is too important to cancel. We aren’t getting anywhere with people in Undercity.” She indicated Angel. “She’s the only one who has agreed to take a job with the government, and she’s joining as a civilian.”

Angel remained impassive, but Bhaaj felt her interest spark. Her protégé was far savvier than anyone outside the Undercity gave her credit for, except perhaps Lavinda.

Corejida Majda spoke up. “She’s right, Vaj. We need to meet the people of the Undercity on their own terms if we’re going to establish better relations. Hell, any relations.”

Vaj motioned toward Bhaaj without glancing at her. “That’s Major Bhaajan’s job. I see no reason to send my sister.”

“General, permission to speak?” Bhaaj asked. Although she’d retired from the army ten years ago, she instinctively reverted to military behavior with the general.

Vaj turned to her. “Go ahead.”

“I’m happy to act as a liaison with the Undercity,” Bhaaj said. “I appreciate the chance to improve relations. However, the gap between our cultures is large.” She was the queen of understatement today. “We’ve existed as separate worlds for so long that my people don’t trust the government.” Why would they? For millennia, Cries had ignored them. Now the Undercity had something everyone wanted, and suddenly the authorities were all about “relationships” and “mutual benefit.” Bhaaj had no intention of letting them take advantage of her people. She could act on their behalf, but she didn’t want to alienate the powers of the Imperialate in the process, with who knew what disasters that might create.

She spoke carefully. “Colonel Majda’s visit would go a long way toward establishing more trust with my people.” Lavinda needed only to meet folks, be diplomatic, and listen to them. That alone would offer a big step forward, the first time anyone with influence had reached out to the Undercity.

Vaj snorted. “What, they don’t trust us because we’re offering them a higher wage than they’ve ever seen, with actual benefits, a decent standard of living, and access to education so they can better themselves? They’d rather be a bunch of lazy thugs, take drugs, and live in squalor?”

For fuck’s sake, Bhaaj thought. Angel tensed at her side, and Bhaaj spoke quickly, cutting off any response Angel felt inspired to bestow on the Majda queen. “General, I mean no offense. But my people don’t live in squalor, and we value a strong work ethic.” How did Vaj think they survived? As for the drug use, yah, it was a problem, but they needed solutions, not dismissal. “Both of our peoples could benefit from coming to understand each other better.”

“Well, that was tactful,” Lavinda said. “Vaj, you have no idea how much you just insulted them. I’ve encountered only hints of their culture, and already I can see it’s incredible. Beautiful. We need to get one of us down there, not only to show the Undercity we genuinely want better relations but so we can educate ourselves as well.” She met her sister’s intransigent gaze. “We have to meet them on their terms, or they will never trust us. And we need them. They can make the difference between our surviving as a free civilization and conquest by the Trader Empire.”

Vaj spoke tightly. “I won’t risk your life.”

Lavinda tilted her head toward Bhaaj and Angel. “I’ll have protection.”

For an instant, Bhaaj glimpsed something under Vaj’s iron exterior, something unexpected, maybe even impossible. Vulnerability? The general feared for the sister she loved.

As quickly as that reveal came, Vaj recovered her control. She said only, “Yes, Major Bhaajan and her martial arts fighters do excellent work. But it isn’t enough.”

“Send a squad of Majda guards with me.” Lavinda glanced at Bhaaj. “Would the Undercity accept their presence?”

They’ll hate it, Bhaaj thought. Given that she’d doubted Vaj would agree to anything less, though, she’d prepared her people for this possibility. “Three Majda guards can come. No uniforms. They should dress like us, simple clothes designed for durability.”

Angel spoke in the terse Undercity dialect. “Maybe not bring weapons.” Her gaze glinted. “Gangers steal.”

Bhaaj almost swore. Sure, high-powered guns would be more tempting to her people than gold, but they’d deal with it. They didn’t need Vaj finding another reason to get worried. “We shouldn’t have a problem. Three Dust Knights led by the man Ruzik will also escort Colonel Majda. My people hold them in the highest regard. It will be a sign of honor to Lavinda that they give her protection. All the Dust Knights will uphold that vow, not just those who work with Ruzik.”

“Ruzik?” Vaj motioned at Angel. “Are you talking about her husband’s gang?”

Well, yah. That was another factoid better avoided. “The Dust Knights are the martial arts circle I established. It includes both young students and adults earning higher-level belts. Angel and her husband received their first-degree black belts last year.” Bhaaj nodded to Vaj as one martial arts teacher to another, even though Vaj didn’t teach anyone anything martial except how to obey orders. “One of their testers was Randall Miyashiro, your tykado master here at the palace.”

“Ah, yes.” Vaj sounded a fraction less recalcitrant. “Randall speaks well of your students.”

What amazed Bhaaj most wasn’t the General’s nod to Miyashiro’s high position, but the cognitive dissonance of hearing the most conservative matriarch alive speak with respect for a man’s judgment in matters of combat. The days when barbaric queens kept their men in seclusion had long ago vanished, replaced by a supposedly egalitarian society where men had equal rights. Employers, politicians, influencers, and most everyone else gave at least lip service to the idea because they wanted to avoid becoming the mesh-media’s favorite hate object. The Majdas, however, didn’t give a rat’s ass about controversy. They still secluded their princes, unrepentant in their conviction that men should stay hidden while women ran the universe, and if people didn’t like it, tough.

Except.

The general served as a joint commander for a male Imperator. Almost as many men as women served under her, and if she acted against them, the backlash could threaten even her position. So Vaj dealt with it, the “it” being that she had to treat the men as equal to the women. Besides, she was no idiot. When she decided to hire a tykado expert to train her security forces, she wanted the best. That he happened to be male was, in her view, an unfortunate anomaly, but that didn’t stop her. She offered him an unprecedented salary, and Randall Miyashiro became the only male tykado master in the history of Majda.

“I’m glad Master Miyashiro thinks well of them,” Bhaaj said.

Vaj frowned at her. She frowned at her sisters, first Lavinda, then Corejida, then Lavinda again for good measure. Finally she said, “Very well. Three Majda guards.”

Glancing at Bhaaj, Lavinda gave the barest nod. Good. They’d passed the first hurdle.

As the Majda sisters discussed the visit, Bhaaj considered their next step. They had to face the Undercity, which the rest of the Imperialate considered the lowest of the low. The media loved to make villains out of her people, who had no voice to protest. They wouldn’t have known how to object even if they’d realized the rest of humanity despised them. They hid their true culture, a world of great beauty that existed within their crushing poverty.

Bhaaj wanted to improve matters.

This trip had resulted from her attempts. Her people would never accept charity, so a few years ago, she’d arranged an exchange; in return for a day of free medical care and food, they’d let the military test them as Kyle operators. Not that people in the Undercity cared what “Kyle” meant. Bhaaj had given up trying to explain that it referred to humans with the neurological mutations needed to operate tech from the ancient Ruby Empire. In truth, no one understood those rare machines that had survived the Ruby collapse. Scholars wrote no end of papers about the subject which, when stripped to basics, said, What the hell? How can you mash neuroscience, math, and mysticism into one discipline?

No matter. The Imperialate could use the few remaining Ruby machines that still worked. The result? Almost instant communication across star-spanning distances. It created their sole advantage over the other empire that dominated the stars—the Traders, those narcissistic psychopaths who viewed galactic domination as their gods-given right. Traders had no Kyle tech or trained operators, which meant their interstellar communications crawled compared to the Imperialate. For that reason—and only that reason—the Imperialate survived against them.

The Undercity had no idea. Their ancestors had taken their introverted selves underground, choosing isolation over the sunlight. They’d left the rest of humanity to rampage in barbaric splendor until the Ruby Empire exploded in the flames of war and plunged into five thousand years of dark ages. Now humans had spread across the stars again. To survive, the Imperialate needed Kyles, but for reasons science hadn’t yet solved, they were almost impossible to clone. Not that most people wanted that dubious honor. The neurological changes that defined Kyles also made their minds painfully sensitive. They were empaths. Only one in ten thousand humans qualified as a full Kyle, driving the military to seek them anywhere. No one expected to find many in the ruins beneath the desert, but the government was desperate enough to try.

On that day, they learned the truth.

One in three Undercity citizens was an empath.

Bhaaj finally understood. Her ancestors had retreated underground because they couldn’t bear the mental pressure of their brutal ancestors. They chose isolation instead, living, dying, and loving in the dark. It concentrated their traits until now they gave birth to Kyles at a rate three thousand times that of normal populations. Suddenly the Imperialate—which had dismissed, ridiculed, and ignored the Undercity for centuries—said, Hey, let’s be friends.

Convincing General Majda to allow this visit had proved difficult, but doable. They now had a more difficult task, maybe an impossible one.

They had to convince the Undercity.


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