The Premier smiled, nodded, shook hands, and kissed cheeks, as he greeted the throngs of attendees at this years Accession Ball. He appeared perfectly at home as the ambassador of ceremonies, and executed flawlessly the skills that his father had taught him long ago. Though a bit of a bore, and always pretentious, he did enjoy this part of his life. There was truly something addictive to him about the constant flow of adoration that he received from his subjects. That was how Father had taught him to think of all of the others that he ruled over. Subjects. True, as their Premier, he must see to their well being. He must ensure that there was food, safety, and the opportunity to seek happiness, in whatever strange form that may take. But most of all, he must provide them with a clear image of what a true leader should be. Father had taught him that at all times, he must be above reproach, unless of course, he was not. Then in those cases, he must make sure that those who might know the truth, would never have a chance to speak of it.
There were no prisons or dungeons to throw people into any longer, so often it came down to a little persuasion. Sometimes the persuasion could be very subtle. Just a suggestion, really. And sometimes, the suggestion may have to carry weight with it, in the form of one consequence or the other. In most cases, careful explanation and communication of the potential consequences would quickly resolve the problem at hand.
In an extreme case, the Premier might even suggest that all rejuvenation treatments may no longer be available to the person in question, or worse, to their spouse. And the few times that Roger had employed this technique, there had been immediate compliance without fail. Rarely did Roger find himself in the situation when he needed to address these issues, but as his Father had said, at some time, all leaders will find the need for discretion, and he had been right. Very right indeed. It had been in the first year of his inherited office as Premier that Roger had in fact faced such a problem. A relatively minor problem at the start, it seemed, which had quickly changed in to what could have become a major issue. A few suggestions to the people involved, and all was resolved. That first time was not at all like the second time. That one had become quite an issue. An almost irresolvable issue in fact. That was until his Chancellor, Charles had offered a solution. Not a perfect solution, but definitely a solution. A solution that had laid that problem to rest permanently.
Roger did not so much trust Charles and his judgment, as he needed him. Charles had been his father’s Chancellor when he was Premier, and knew how the systems worked better than anyone else alive. He had an uncanny understanding of the balance of the Premier’s power and responsibility. Though his father had been the first Premier in the two hundred and fifty year history of New Sebastian, and therefore, he himself was the second Premier, Charles too was only the second Chancellor to the Premier in that same length of time. One day in some unknown future, both Roger and Charles would each be required to sire a male child, and in later years groom them for their future responsibilities. The ruling lineage must go on, his father had explained. And since the population cap that had been implemented a little over a hundred years ago, only the Premier and his Chancellor were allowed to have children, and only then, a male child.
But for now, it was time to turn on the charm, and allow his subjects to bathe in his glory. He smiled as a charming young man in a devilishly handsome grey tunic introduced his wife.
“Your Lordship, I present the Lady Markery, my wife.” He said proudly, as he held her hand of his wife, as she curtsied. The young man followed with a shallow bow.
She smiled, though it was obvious that the movement caused her great pain. Her snow white hair was braided into an intricate headdress, woven with sparkling ribbons and lace. A few tendrils had been intentionally left loose, and curled so that they hung close to her face, with an obvious attempt to soften the sagging wrinkles that time had stamped into her papery thin skin. After a slight smile, and brief nod from Roger, she straightened her thin frail body, and smiled weakly.
“Thomas.” Roger began. “I see that Elizabeth is as beautiful as ever.” He said as he smiled ever so slightly at the lady.
“Well, sir. It’s been a rough year, but she is finally scheduled for rejuvenation next week.”
“Thank you, my Lordship.” She said weakly, her voice barely audible.
“Yes, thank you.” Said Thomas. “She has been so weak lately, I was beginning to worry if we would ever get word on the rejuvenation.” Roger caught Elizabeth’s gaze, and a slight smirk came to his lips. Just a flash, and then he went into a full smile.
“Glad to be of assistance to the both of you.” He said with an air of graciousness that his eyes did not carry. “So, Thomas. You’ll be part of the big unveil?”
“No, Sire. Not this year. I just received the standard rejuvenation. No enhancements. I wanted to wait until Elizabeth had received her rejuvenation as well. Thank you again, your Lordship.” He bowed once again, and Roger nodded his approval, and dismissal. Thomas took his frail bride by one hand, and wrapped his arm gently around her waist to guide her away. He did not notice as her stare lingered after the Premier, or the Premier’s continued glance in return. Thomas did not know that anything had transpired between his beloved wife and the Premier, nor did he know that the horrible condition that he had been in before his most recent rejuvenation, and the frail condition his wife was in now, was the result of that past incident. He also did not know that his beloved wife would see to it that he would never know.
The next in the long line of attendees advanced. Another young man stepped forward, as he proudly held the hand of his bride.
“Your Lordship, the Lady Taragon.” He said, as his wife curtsied, and he followed with a shallow bow.
“Albert.” Said Roger. “How good to see you. And the beautiful Madeline as well.” He smiled, nodded, and they straightened from their bowed positions. A heavy set man in a dark tunic stepped up behind the Premier and whispered into his ear.
“Sir. A moment if you please.” Roger finished the conversation with the lovely young blonde lady dressed immaculately in flowing blue and white translucent veils.
“Madeline, it will certainly be a pleasure to partake of your reveal. I so look forward to it. Now if you’ll excuse me. Duty calls.” He released her hand, and she curtsied again, as she blushed. Her husband took her hand and led her away. Roger turned, and stepped towards the door held open by his Chancellor. “Well, what is it this time.” He asked impatiently. “Someone forget to stack the sweet buns high enough? Or maybe the cake is stale?” He said with sarcasm.
“Sir, I think you will want to hear this right away. This way please.” Charles said with true concern. He led Roger into the adjacent room and quickly closed the door.
“Well? What is it? What is so blasted important-”
“Sir, forgive me for interrupting. Will all due respect, you need to shut the hell up and listen to me.” A look of pure shock swept across Roger’s face. “Sir we have a-”
“Shut the hell up? Did you just tell me to shut the hell up? Who in the hell do you think you are!” He yelled, as the anger raged in his expression and he approached the slightly smaller man. “How dare you-”
“We have an intrusion, sir.”
“-speak to me like…an intrusion.” His expression changed from anger, to mystification. “An intrusion?” His anger had completely dissipated as he tried to wrap his mind around what he had just heard. “What do you mean…intrusion?” He asked as he walked towards the near wall, and slumped onto the edge of the chair.
“Forgive me for my abruptness, sir. An intrusion. In the harvesting ward of the farm, sir. Sub sector six.”
“The harvesting ward?” His face went pale. “But how?”
“We don’t yet know, sir.” Charles clutched his hands behind his back, and stepped closer to the Premier. “Guardian control is processing the data now to get those answers.”
“Have they contained the intrusion?” Roger a
sked, as he looked hopefully up at Charles.
“No sir. Not as of yet. So far it appears as though several Guardian units have been incapacitated, but the-”
“Incapacitated? A Guardian?” Roger asked in disbelief. He began to shake his head. “But that has never happened.”
“No sir, it has never happened…before now. It is important that we contain this threat immediately, sir.”
“Yes, yes. Eradicate it.” He said, still confused from the shock of the news.
“Sir. Eradicate it?”
“Yes!” Roger exclaimed, as anger flashed across his face again. “Eradicate it. Catch it and harvest it. Whatever. Just get this contained!” He said impatiently.
“Harvest ahead of schedule? Is that correct, sir.” Charles asked calmly.
“Yes, damn it. Find and kill the bastard. Is that plain enough?” He said angrily, as he jumped to his feet, and approached him. Charles took a small step back, and then stood his ground. His hands still clasped behind his back. “Well? Is it?”
“Yes, your lordship.” Charles responded. “Quite plain.” Without further hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small communication device. “Guardian control, proceed with eradication and harvesting immediately.” He said into the unit. Roger rose and stood near the doorway. As it opened, he turned back and said, completely calm now.
“And Charles…see to it that this does not interfere with the Ball.” The thinly hint of a veiled threat lingered as the two men locked eyes. Charles nodded compliance, and Roger exited the room, and reentered the revelry from the main ballroom. “Ah, Sinclair. So nice to see you, my good man!” Charles heard the Premier exclaim, as the door slid shut and left him in silence. Charles shook his head, and stepped towards the chair that Roger had sat in only moments earlier. He bent down, and brushed at imaginary lint where Roger had sat, and then took a seat. He inhaled deeply. Suddenly a wall panel on the far side of the room slid back, and a dark haired woman with a sharp expression on her face entered the room.
“Sir?” She said, as she stopped abruptly in the center of the room. She took a stance with her feet apart slightly, and her arms to her sides stiffly.
“Yes, Amelia.” Charles responded, as he lifted his head.
“Guardian control has confirmed the origin of the intrusion.”
“Well. Let’s have it.” He said impatiently.
“It came from the farm, sir.”
“The Farm.” He said. “As in a specimen from farm?” Charles asked.
“Yes, sir. Data records show that it is specimen one six mark one five Omega Alpha, sir.”
“Omega?” He asked. “Omega Alpha?” he asked again, in disbelief.
“Affirmative, sir. Omega Alpha.”
“How many of that series are active?” He said, as he rose to his feet. A look of concern entered his expression.
“Unsure, sir. I’ll make a request to find out.” She watched quietly as he crossed the room to the window. He stood there, and silently looked out. “Uh, sir?” She began slowly. “Is there some significance to the specimen’s genus?” She asked, almost hesitantly.
“Hmm?” He responded, as he came out of deep thought, but did not turn back to face her. He ran his hand over his bald head, and let it come to a rest on the back of his neck.
“Omega Alpha, sir. Is that significant?” She asked. He brought his hand down from his neck, and let his fingertips rest on the glass of the window as he still stared outside.
“Let’s hope not, Amelia.” He turned and looked back at her. He gazed for a moment into her hazel eyes, and then cast his glance back outside. “For all of our sakes. Let’s hope not.” He said in almost a whisper, as if he spoke to himself, and not to her at all. She stood motionless for a moment, but with nothing further offered from Charles, she looked down, hesitated, and then looked back at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but again hesitated. Then suddenly, without another word, she turned and left the room. The panel slid closed behind her. Charles remained at the window for a few minutes more. He was silent
His communication device vibrated, and he pulled it out and read the screen. Amelia had sent him the answer to his question. There were two Omega Alpha units that were active. The message indicated that one of them had been the intruder. The other Omega Alpha unit had been previously removed from the farm, and was already in the harvesting ward. The last line of data indicated that it had been harvested. He reread the message again, and then pocketed the device.
“Harvested.” He said to himself. “Good.”
Chapter 17