The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

I regret, but I guess the worst was leaving you in the dark. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through, or what the hell they’ve been saying about me. Just know I didn’t have time to make a smart decision. I went with my gut, which pretty much always spelled trouble. No different this go-around.

I’ve gotten my sorry ass caught in the frying pan more times than I can reckon. Somehow, I always come out the other side, either on account of dumb luck, an angel on my shoulder, or hell, maybe there was a plan for me.

Not this time. The place I’m going, there’s no coming back. That means I’ll never say this to you in person.

I love you, and I’ll never forget you.

25

Marsche Compound

Ericsson Fjord, Scandinavian Consortium

Six weeks before the attack on Vasily Station

 

C ELIA MARSCHE RELISHED THE STORIES other Chancellors told about her. The Empress of the North, they whispered, lived as a recluse with a messianic complex. They said she became matriarch of the original Chancellor descendancy by murdering competitors: Specifically, parents, aunts and uncles, brothers, sisters, and cousins. They said she began her treachery as a child by mapping out her family tree and developing a bloody, thirty-year plan to ascendancy.

“The stories are wrong,” she reassured her oldest brother Eldric, who confronted her about the rumors as they hiked the Ordsson Trail one summer’s day. “It was a twenty-year plan. I made mistakes.”

Then she pushed him over the edge, where he fell long and lonely into a rainforest ravine thick with titanic spruce trees. He never screamed on the way down. She hated him for it.

None of them ever screamed or whimpered into death. Cold, rigid, and too arrogant to acknowledge their terror. They were mere shadows of their ancestors, unworthy of Johannes Ericsson, the man who gave birth to the Chancellory and to Elevation Philosophy. The man whose wars cleansed the world of divine worship and took humanity out of the darkness of pre-history. The man who built the oligarchy which sent humanity into space. And in the end, to claim Earth for itself.

“A man of staggering vision,” Celia told her handmaid, Ester, who was running a brush through her mistress’s thick, sun-bright hair. “He saw how far we could reach as a species. He was unafraid to sacrifice his life in pursuit of that potential. I tell you, Ester, if I had the ability to traverse the laws of time and space, I would sell all my holdings to spend a day with Johannes.”

“Yes, Miss,” Ester said with courtesy. “I imagine it would be quite the adventure.”

Celia gazed into the vanity’s mirror but not at herself. She studied the slim wrinkles on the Slavic Solomon who attended her needs since she was a little girl.

“Tell me, Ester. What do you think of Solomon equity?”

Ester furrowed a brow. “Can’t say as I’ve considered it, Miss.”

“But you must have an opinion. Are you not tied into the public streams? Surely, your family follows the infotainment stacks.”

“Can’t speak for the others, but when would I find time, Miss? You keep my life full. And when I’m not here, I’m tending to my children.”

She grabbed the brush. “Very nice, Ester. The amulet, please.” As her handmaid opened a jewelry case, Celia probed further. “What do you think of their cause? Should Solomons have the right to own property and be represented in the Sanctums?”

Ester paused, as if she were contemplating the matter for the first time. “To be honest, Miss, I don’t see what would change. We are handsomely paid. We want for nothing. By all I know – and I can’t claim there’s much banging around up here,” she tapped her forehead, “we live in luxury compared to everyone on the colonies. I’d say our families made the right decision to stay behind.”

“And no one in the Chernik clan has voiced support for equity?”

“We’re old blood in these parts, Miss. We’re born to ritual.”

“Strong roots. Yes? Like the oldest birches and the king elms. They dug deep into the earth and held on for three millennia. Johannes Ericsson planted those saplings. He made sure the soil was firm, the sun plentiful, and the air pure.”

Ester rested the jade amulet over Celia’s chest and fastened its chain behind her neck. “If I might make an observation, Miss, you are especially reflective today. I’ve known you to be this way on special occasions, but there’s nothing on your calendar.”

“I am always reflecting,” Celia said. “I am always thinking about what we were and what we might become. It’s my special talent, Ester. No one else in my family bothered. Perhaps that’s why they lived shallow lives. Perhaps that’s why they left me all too soon.”

Ester bowed her head. “Such tragedies, Miss.”

“Tragedy is a term reserved for those we remember. My family lost its way generations ago. Did you know my father went his entire life believing the Solomon Treaty was the Chancellory’s single biggest mistake? Yes. I overheard him speaking to Uncle Frederick when I was nine. This was after the fall of Hiebimini. He said the Chancellors would slide into irrelevance without brontinium extract, and we would regret not having equal partners to guide us into that gentle night. He'd given up, even then. He did not deserve our historic descendancy. There have been no tragedies in my life, Ester. Only surrenders.”

Celia grabbed Ester’s hand. “And you.”

“I’ll always be here for you, Miss.”

“Yes, you will. But not for the next several hours.”

“Beg pardon, Miss?”

“I do have plans. A guest. He’ll be here shortly. I wish for you and the other staff to retire to the north lodge. Nullify your amps. Prepare a feast and drink from the vintage stock. Perhaps you’ll even stay the night and enjoy each other’s company.”

Celia