CHAPTER TWO: REFLECTIONS

Abagai, Empress of the worlds of Tengri-Nayon and First Mother to the people of Shanji, was pleased with the way her daughter was reacting to the defeat of their armies, and eventually told her so.

They shared tea in Abagai's private suite, lounging on thick cushions with the low serving table between them, and the young lieutenant who'd served them had just left the room. For the first time in nearly a year they were alone, and could talk privately. The windows were shuttered, the room glowing orange in the light of three oil lamps, for all power had been shut down during the storm that still raged outside. Even through thick plas-steel and concrete walls, they could hear the sound of sand scraping at their dwelling with terrible force.

Abagai sipped her tea, and said, "You're very quiet, Yesugen. Do you still think about Shanji?"

Yesugen leaned on one elbow, and shook her head. "Not about the war, if that's what you mean. I think about the blue sky there, and how easy it would be to live without constant storms. Here we are again, Mother, living like burrowing animals."

"It will pass, dear. The storms are more infrequent each year; your children will see blue skies, and play under them."

Yesugen lowered her eyes, for the subject of children was a sensitive one with her. No man had yet dared to approach the Field Commander of Abagai's armies, even though her figure was striking when not clothed in armor. "Perhaps," she said, then sipped her tea and scowled. "Kati complains about the difficulty of her peoples' lives. She does not know what difficulty is."

"She has known hardship," said Abagai. "Is it Kati you think of? Do you hate her, Yesugen?"

Yesugen thought for a moment, and sighed. "No, that is not what I feel."

"Do you feel humiliated by her?"

"No. There is no humiliation in defeat by a superior adversary. Her powers are far beyond what I was expecting. Even my hardened troops so willing to die with honor were relieved when she showed mercy in those final moments. She could have destroyed all of us."

"Then what's bothering you?" said Abagai softly, for she knew what was there in her daughter's mind. The knowledge of it apparently showed in her eyes, for Yesugen quickly answered.

"You see my jealousy there." Yesugen's eyes glistened, but only for an instant.

"I have done that to you, not Kati, and I'm sorry for it. I did not seek to hurt you, Yesugen." Abagai felt an ache in her throat.

"But you have done so. You treat Kati like a favorite daughter, and I have spent my adult life serving your empire. Am I nothing to you but someone to command your armies?"

Abagai sipped tea to wet her dry, aching throat. "I love you with all my heart, Yesugen, and I love your brothers, but there is a harshness in all of you that comes from your father."

Yesugen's eyes turned red in an instant. "He taught us to be strong! He gave us discipline!"

"With a closed fist," said Abagai. "He was a harsh, cruel man without compassion, and if he were alive to hear me say it he would strike me to the ground out of habit. When you were a child, you saw him do it more than once. Tell me, Yesugen, is that the kind of person you would trust to use the unlimited power of the gong-shi-jie? The power to destroy?"

Yesugen seemed stunned. "You see father in me, and so you do not train me in the gong-shi-jie? Instead, you train another, not even of our world, so she can destroy our armies. Do you see the powers you've given her?"

"I gave her nothing," said Abagai. "Her training only brought forth the powers that were already there. She was undoubtedly exceptional at birth, though I didn't sense her existence until she was four. For years I thought she might be the Mei-lai-gong we've sought to produce for centuries. I was excited, and struck by Kati's deep love and compassion for all people, even those who oppose her. I do not regret my decision to train her."

"You can tell that to the relatives of our soldiers she incinerated by Shanji's sea. She did not hesitate, Mother."

"That was war, Yesugen, and the war is over. When we left Kati, I felt no malice in her, only the desire that we can work together, even when it is you who rules here. I made it clear to Kati that you are to be my successor."

Yesugen lowered her eyes again, and picked at the fabric of her cushion. A sudden gust of wind rattled the heavy, steel shutters over the windows.

"You will not train me in the gong-shi-jie, but you trust me to rule in your place," she said sullenly.

"I want to trust you," said Abagai, "and to rule is your rightful inheritance. But I will be blunt with you, Yesugen. Your father is gone, and I am glad of it. Now it is you and I, without his influence or threat. You have my blood in you, and I want to see evidence of it. I want to see compassion in you, a concern for the welfare of our people."

"I suppose that includes the plague of migrants I have to deal with. They come here uninvited, and we have no place for them, and so they complain and riot, and you show sympathy for them. I would put them all on the next ship back to Lan-Sui, and let their incompetent governor deal with them," said Yesugen angrily. Her eyes were now ruby-red, and she sat up on her cushion, hands knotted into fists. "We live like moles under an angry sun, Mother. There are barely enough resources for our own people on the surface."

"Soften your heart, daughter! Lan-Sui is a dying world. The people come here because they want to live in sunlight, and breathe air that doesn't smell of oil and ozone, and have a life on the surface of a real planet. You have just spent a year in space. Would you prefer to live that way for a lifetime?"

"Of course not," said Yesugen, "but it's not our problem! We're just beginning to build on the surface here, and it will take all we have to provide for our own. We don't have the resources for new people!"

"Then we must find them. We'll work together to find a solution to the problem."

Yesugen sighed in exasperation. "Can't you at least stop the flow of migrants? The camps are overflowing, and there were two riots while we were gone."

"Were there killings?"

"No, but several were injured. Kabul was in charge, and I think he was softer than he should have been with them."

"I hear your father again. That is what I want to see change in you. Brutality does not win the hearts of the people, it only creates new problems."

"But the migrants keep coming! You risk a break in relations with Lan-Sui over this. They will cut off our fuel shipments, and then how do we run our reactors? We need those gases, Mother!"

"I've spoken with Governor Wizera about this," said Abagai. "Unauthorized travelers from Lan-Sui will not be allowed off-ship here any longer, but Wizera must control the smuggling traffic on his own world. Small ships land in our deserts every month, and we cannot police that. People are dying horribly out there, only because they want a better life. Can't you feel compassion for them?"

"I'm sick of that word! I want to build our world, not destroy it. I want a better life for our people!"

Yesugen's emotion was deep, and Abagai was startled by it. "Well," she said, "it's a start in the right direction. And I agree with you. Can we begin there? Will you work with me towards that goal?"

"I always have," said Yesugen, eyes lowered again.

Abagai stood up, stepped around the table and put her hands on Yesugen's broad shoulders. "Stand with me, daughter," she said.

Yesugen looked up at her curiously, then stood up, facing her. Abagai grasped the hard muscles of Yesugen's arms, and pulled her closer. "You are my only daughter, and the heiress to my throne. Do you believe that I love you?"

Yesugen could not look her in the eye. "Yes," she croaked.

Abagai pulled her into a long hug, but Yesugen remained rigid, her arms stiffly at her sides.

Abagai sighed, "You are loved, daughter, but life will flow more easily for you if you allow yourself to be loved."

The terrible hardness was still there when Abagai released her.

 

By evening the storm had subsided; Yesugen put on her greatcoat and masked helmet to ward off blowing sand and went back to her own quarters in the dugout next to Abagai's.

In the gloom of her private suite, a sense of solitude and loneliness descended on Abagai only a moment after her daughter was gone, and her thoughts were suddenly about Kati and her unborn child. No, not unborn. It had now been over a year, yet she'd sensed nothing, but during most of that year she'd not ventured into the gong-shi-jie or made any effort to contact the new Empress of Shanji. Was the child now born alive, and well? As much as she loved Kati, her thoughts were mostly about the child, Yesui, and what she'd done while still in the womb of her mother.

It had only been a few weeks into the trip back from Shanji, and she'd been meditating in a cubicle smelling of oil, horseflesh and dung. Her mind and soul strolled the place of creation near the edge of the galactic wheel where the aural vortices of stars suddenly disappeared, and there was only shimmering violet light. Far beyond was another disk of deep reds and green that was another galaxy she had visited once, and now considered again, but then Kati's shriek of joy and pride had broken her reverie, and she'd returned without time-lapse to the aura of Shanji's sun.

Kati's cry had been powerful. Oh, Mandughai! My little girl is with me in the gong-shi-jie, taking her first steps here! Come quick! 

Kati had called her, and so she came, but she could not bring herself to reveal her presence because the moment seemed so private, and amazing, and so she'd only watched. Kati's manifestation was the usual one: her own, beautiful face with the highly arched nose and long neck, the tall, slender figure clothed in a robe of royal gold. Hands folded on her stomach, face serene, she drifted towards the green vortex that was the aural signature of Tengri-Khan. Come with Mother, dear, she said without words in this place of creation.

Behind her, a tendril of green fluttered like a tiny flame, following tentatively at first, then quickening its pace. Abagai was instantly aware of a new, powerful presence, a presence that penetrated to the core of her being, a mental touch that penetrated her invisibility. Kati was gone in a flash, her manifestation seeming sucked into the vortex of Tengri-Khan, but the tendril remained behind for an instant, wavering before Abagai, as if studying her. Abagai felt warmth, a kind of euphoria mixed with excitement, and then the tendril descended slowly, slowly into the signature of Shanji's sun.

Kati was back in a flash, but the tendril of green seemed reluctant to return from real space, emerging slowly from the vortex and remaining attached there. Kati smiled when she saw it.

Did you come with me? Did you see the star, or stay here? This is enough for a first time, and Mandughai still hasn't come to see you. Let's go back, now. Stay close. 

Kati drifted away towards the dim, purple vortex leading to herself, and the green tendril followed her, but behind the tendril came a writhing, dark shape streaming from the place of Tengri-Khan, a color so deep red it seemed black in the swirling violet and purple background of the gong-shi-jie. The swirls near it were suddenly distorted, as if a great energy density was disturbing them. And then an invitation came, so strong that Abagai nearly lost control of her invisibility.

Come? Yesui. 

The mental force was so powerful she followed without thinking, and it was the green tendril she followed, not Kati. There was the flash of transition, and she was overwhelmed by emotions and visions: fear from Kati, excitement from another, the sight of a roiling mass of dust and glowing gas ascending from a mountain on Shanji, then little hands waving, legs kicking in a tiny place illuminated in emerald green.

Come Yesui. Hot. No. 

The dark shape following the child had frightened her, and she had disposed of it at a place she'd seen through her mother. The strong presence, the child's slow transition to real space, her return with energy at incredible density, it all came together for Abagai at that instant. The mental connection was still strong, and it was not with Kati, who was still fearful, and oblivious to her presence. So she went to the child, and showed her a vision of watchful, emerald-green eyes. Within herself she felt euphoria, and reverence for the being so long awaited by the Moshuguang of her blood-line. And the message she gave the child was similar to one she'd given to the mother years before.

Yesui. Yesui—my child. I am Mandughai. I was with your mother, and your grandmother, and now I will be with you. Sleep, now, and build your strength. You have much to learn from your mother and me, and there is something I would have you do for me when you're a woman. 

But the mental connection had weakened, then broken at that moment. Yesui had fallen asleep. So Abagai had returned to the gong-shi-jie without revealing herself to Kati, who now basked in the warmth of her husband's loving concern for her fright. Abagai returned to herself in the smelly cubicle on the ship, and discovered her own eyes were filled with tears.

Now it was a year later. The child was born, and Abagai had not kept her promise yet. She'd forgotten the dilation of time in moving at near light velocity, become absorbed by the logistics of moving and unloading an army, and now her attempts to grow closer to her own daughter.

For a moment, she was tempted to enter the gong-shi-jie, and make contact with Kati to hear news of the child. But Kati had not contacted her, and could do so at anytime. Surely the child had been born healthy, for in times of grief, Kati had always sought comfort from the woman she called Mandughai. No, Kati was herself busy with the duties of a new Empress, and the child would be recently born. Kati would see the magic of her first-born. Let them bond together, mother and daughter, and then it would be time for Abagai to become involved with them.

The urge to contact Kati persisted. Abagai yearned for a touch of that mind, the warm feelings there, the warmth she wished could be present in her own daughter. She busied herself with paperwork as a distraction, then opened the window shutters when the roar of the wind outside had subsided to a low groan. Sand was still blowing, and the sky above was a dirty brown where the light of Tengri-Nayon fought to be seen. A flyer had landed before her dugout after braving the wind, and a column of armored men was descending a metal ramp leading from the maw of the craft. Their face plates were up, and she could see faces. It was Yesugen's military advisory council, Colonel Kabul in the lead. They marched in cadence towards the dugout next to Abagai's.

Yesugen had wasted no time in calling her council. And the faces of all the men marching to meet their commander were grim indeed.

 

Yesugen had dreaded this moment for months, and now it had come. She would not make excuses, for there were none to make, but not one of the men on the council had been there to face Kati's awful powers. Any criticism would come from ignorance, and she would need patience in facing it. She had only moments to compose herself, sitting at the head of a table nearly filling the small room. The brown stucco walls were barren of decoration, dimly lit by the single oil lamp in the center of the table. She closed her eyes, and breathed deeply until the orderly opened the door and said, "They are here, Commander."

"Send them in," she said sharply, then folded her hands together on the table, and took a final, deep breath.

Six men entered the room. Only Kabul looked her in the face as he came to take his place at her right hand. The rest stood rigidly behind their chairs, eyes on the walls.

"Sit," she said, and they did. Still they did not look directly at her, but at each other from either side of the table. She waited a long moment, but there was only a horrible silence, and the masks of their minds were like stone. Finally, she spoke.

"You've had time to read my report, and I'm here to answer your questions. Please do not be conciliatory with your comments. We don't have time for it, and it will accomplish nothing." Her voice was calm, but forceful.

Silence. No heads turned. Yesugen unfolded her hands, and tapped a fingernail on the table. "I'm waiting, gentlemen," she said softly.

Kabul looked at the others, then her, and cleared his throat. "We all share great disappointment in the outcome, Commander. Shanji was very important to our plans."

"Yes, it was," she said, "and it remains so. Shanji will be quite instrumental in our surface development if we proceed wisely."

"Perhaps you could elaborate on that for us, ma'am," said Kabul respectfully. "The report does not detail your discussions with Shanji's new Empress. It only says that they occurred."

Heads now turned, and they were finally looking at her. "The discussions were brief, and we spoke only in generalities, but it was enough for me to know that our relations with Shanji can be quickly normalized to the point that it can be a considerable resource for our growth."

"What we need is someone to take these vermin off our hands," growled Ghazan, the most senior on the council. He had served as a field officer under Yesugen's father, and bore the scar of a sword slash on one cheek. It had been given to him as a reprimand by his superior. "The purpose of your mission was to secure Shanji for relocation of these people, and that has not been accomplished."

Yesugen willed her hands not to clench. They were all staring at her, now. "That is true, Ghazan, and I take full responsibility for it. Our people fought bravely, and well. The error was mine in underestimating the force we faced."

"Sheep herders and fishermen, and a small, inexperienced army," said Ghazan disdainfully. "You could have destroyed them all from space."

"And risked total annihilation," said Yesugen, her voice rising. "The force has a name, Ghazan, and it is Kati. A young woman, yes, and seemingly gentle as a person, but when threatened, she has the power to destroy a world, or even a star! What she did to us is a tiny fraction of what she is capable of. She could have ionized all of us, and our ships, with a wave of her hand. If I had fired from space at anything except her flyers, she would have done so, and then, Ghazan, you, in your safe place here, might also have felt her power. She could have traveled through the gong-shi-jie in an instant, and reduced our planet to a cinder! Do not disgrace the names of our men who died by her terrible fire or her sword. Her powers are real, and overwhelming!"

"We've read of the destruction in your report," said Kabul quickly, "and it's a reality we must accept. The conquest of Shanji is no longer a consideration. How, then, are the resources of that planet of use to us?"

"We need metals, and synthetics, in considerable quantity, and there are excesses of such things on Shanji. Their agriculture is advanced, and tailored to surface farming. Ours is purely hydroponic. We need new plant varieties to match our erratic growing seasons and acid soils. Shanji has the expertise to develop them for us. We need trees that can stand dryness and hot wind, and chemicals to neutralize our soils. All these things can come from Shanji."

"And what is their return?" asked Toghril, who'd been given the task of constructing the holding camps for migrants and the command of security forces there. He was near Yesugen's age, and a captain, but had never known battle, and was not held in high regard by the others. "If the Empress of Shanji has such great powers, what do we have to offer her?"

"Space-faring capability, which her world abandoned a thousand years ago. I left two shuttles behind as a token of what we can provide. Also, she needs us as a market, to expand her economy and provide jobs for her people."

"You gave her two of our shuttles?" asked Toghril.

"No matter," said Ghazan. "We brought back far fewer troops than we sent. The dead have no need for transportation."

Nobody laughed.

Yesugen's fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. "Kati was very appreciative of the shuttles, and said so. She believes my sincerity in making trade with her, and has agreed to a meeting with me to discuss details. I plan to do so in the near future." Yesugen stiffened her back as she said it, sitting a little taller on her chair.

"You're leaving so soon?" asked Kabul. "Shanji is already a light-year from us."

"I will meet her in the gong-shi-jie," she said casually.

"Accompanied by our Empress, I presume," said Ghazan. "Any plan that's approved will of course be hers."

"We will meet alone, Ghazan, and my mother has agreed to it. What comes in future years will be decided by Kati and me, not my mother. I will be Empress here, Ghazan. Remember that."

Her voice was low, but the warning clear, and she'd had enough of him for the moment. Ghazan nodded respectfully, and looked down at his hands clenched on the table.

"We now begin surface construction in earnest, gentlemen, and I wish to move quickly. I need from each of you an overview of necessary materials and labor force for your individual areas, with timelines for each stage of construction. The figures may be approximate for now. I need only estimates for a first meeting with Shanji's Empress, but I need them within a month. Give your reports to Colonel Kabul, and he will collate them for me. Can you do this?"

Heads quickly nodded, and Yesugen suspected that such estimates had already been made during her absence. "That's all I have for now. Some of you have remained silent, so I presume my report was sufficient for you. I sense your disappointment about our action on Shanji, but I do not regard it as a setback. I think, in fact, that we have made an important ally. Let us proceed with that in mind."

Yesugen stood up, and the men stood with her. "You may return to your duties, gentlemen. Kabul, please stay for a moment."

Kabul smiled faintly, and stood by her side while the rest of the council left the room, closing the door behind them.

"Sit," she said, and they sat down together. Kabul seemed relaxed, and looked straight at her. In the four years he'd served her as Executive, she'd never sensed fear or hostility in the man, only a quiet strength and intelligence she admired. Her mother had chosen him for the job at the same time she'd declared Yesugen Chair and Field Commander, and so far the arrangement had worked well, even though he was her senior in age by ten years.

"When I criticized your handling of the camp riots, I was rushed, and didn't ask for an explanation of your actions. I would like to hear it now," she said softly, then steepled her hands in front of her face.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, eyes steady. "They were not really riots, but more like a demonstration. No property was damaged, no fires, no weapons we could see, only a mass of shouting people, and there were many small children among them. But when people began climbing the fences, we moved in to support the small unit of guards Toghril had stationed there. About twenty young adults got over the fences, then ran from us. I could see no threat from a few unarmed, half-starved people, and ordered weapons shouldered. Women and children were screaming in fear when we arrived, Commander. Our troops are horrors to them, and rightfully so. Upon physical contact, our troops beat twenty young men into bloody heaps before I could stop them. Several remain in hospital in serious condition, but there were fortunately no deaths. Such harshness was unnecessary, and I disciplined four troopers for actions taken after I'd ordered the beatings to cease. It was a matter of discipline, ma'am."

"The prisoners were escaping, and you would have been justified in shooting them," said Yesugen.

Kabul shook his head slowly. "I don't think you'd say that if you saw their living conditions. They're stacked like cut wood in the barracks, and many spend their nights huddled in the crawl spaces beneath the buildings just to get away from the wind and blowing sand. The camps aren't being built fast enough to accomodate these people."

"I would put them on the first ship to Lan-Sui, and be rid of them, but our Empress won't allow it. How many arrived while I was gone?" Kabul was frowning at her, now, and she softened the sharpness in her voice.

"A thousand—two thousand. Now they come in private ships, landing far out on the sand plains. They straggle in here on foot, nearly starved, whole families of them, tiny children, pregnant women. Four children were born in the camp last week, and we provide what food we can. It's not enough!"

Kabul's voice shook with emotion, and the sound of it seemed to soften her heart. "We provide what we can, but I still think deportation is the solution," she said. "I should personally see if conditions are as bad as you say, and my mother should accompany me. If things are really so bad, perhaps she will agree to send these people where they belong. Can you arrange a visitation for us?"

"Right away," said Kabul, not looking disappointed, but relieved. "I'm grateful for your request," he added.

Yesugen nodded, and allowed herself a slight smile. "I appreciate your frank appraisal of what happened at the camp. You were correct in disciplining troops for not obeying your verbal orders. Their bioengineered instincts are vital in war, but must be kept under our control at all times. You may join the others, now." She waved a hand in dismissal.

Kabul stood, bowed, and went to the door, then turned back towards her and softly said, "I'm sorry that I couldn't bring you better news, Commander, but I'm very pleased to see that you've returned safely from Shanji. Welcome back, ma'am."

He closed the door behind him, and Yesugen was still sitting there, mouth open in surprise, and feeling strangely warm all over.