Read Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights Online
Authors: Lawrence White
Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights (64 page)
Two hundred twenty-seven years: just the blink of an eye compared to the lifespan of a world, but a long, long time for a person. As for a civilization . . . well, that must be about how long it took to go from puberty to young adult, Galborae decided, provided there was someone pushing and prodding along the way. And sometimes pleading, sometimes threatening, and always loving and hopeful.
That would, he believed, one day become the legacy of the Eight.
He waited on the front lawn of the governor’s mansion with the others. Milae stood to his left. To his right stood Governor Havlock, Atiana, Builder Graylee, Teacher Hawke, Healer Kori, and Constable Crowles. Behind them a few staff members who had chosen to remain to the very end stood clustered around Ladies Krys and Claire who had decided to stop by for this very special occasion. With them stood Lorko, a brilliant green dragon. Quite a few Rress had passed through here during the years since the last gleason left, so joyously welcomed were they on Tranxte. Fairy tales had come alive with their presence.
The sun was just peeping over the mountains on the far side of the valley, signaling the dawn of a new day. Galborae, once again elected Speaker for Tranxte—the planet’s highest office—had chosen this early morning timing on purpose: the new day would usher in a new beginning for Tranxte. They had discussed holding the event at the spaceport where there was more room for spectators, but Galborae had decided the mansion’s front lawn would hold more significance.
The request by Tranxte’s council had come as a surprise to Havlock, but what parent ever felt his or her child was ready to leave the nest? After so many years of preaching the mantra, he had not hesitated. He had said all along that the Empire would leave Tranxte when one of two conditions had been met: either the Empire judged Tranxte was ready, or Tranxte made the demand.
Well, Galborae, as Tranxte’s Speaker, had made the demand. The formalities had been processed, the speeches had been delivered, and the governor’s mansion was now the Speaker’s mansion. The vast administrative offices, the university, and the spaceport now belonged to Tranxte as well.
Havlock and the rest could have gone with the rest of the Empire staff who had left over the past couple of months, but Galborae wanted to draw a line in the sand today, and Havlock had agreed wholeheartedly. The dissolution of the Eight and the departure of six of them would provide clear and unmistakable closure to the people of Tranxte of a long, difficult, and proud chapter of their development.
Havlock had stayed clear of the debates, but once Galborae delivered official notification to him that the time of Empire stewardship was over, he did not hesitate to let his pride in them show. Since then he and Atiana had visited her old kingdom of Tricor, but the memory of her as their last queen had mostly faded there—most knew her now as Governor Havlock’s wife and First Lady. Her castle had become a museum, and the curtain wall around the old city where Galborae had made his stand against the gleasons had been torn down long ago.
The horrors of the years under gleason domination might never fade from memory and would certainly never fade from history books, but other than the few individuals with Riders, no one on Tranxte had personal knowledge of the beasts. The people of Tranxte looked forward, not backward now, and the Eight took pride in that knowledge.
Galborae’s comm unit chirped. He answered, then turned to his friends. “The cruiser has started down.” To Havlock, he said, “You’ve been keeping your plans a secret. It’s time to come clean, Sky Lord.”
“Sky Lord. Hmm . . . I haven’t heard that one for a while,” Havlock responded. He grinned as he shot a glance to Atiana and squeezed her hand, then returned his gaze to Galborae. “I’m surprised at how refreshing it is to pass the burden to you,” he said to him. “Again, let me wish you good fortune. I wish on you the same quality of help I had . . . we had.”
“And the camaraderie,” Galborae agreed, nodding. “There’s something to be said for coming together under fire.” His eyes moved down the line of friends, then he opened his arms wide, inviting them to share a little intimacy. It was not part of the protocol he’d established with the media, but it was how he liked to do things.
“So what’s it to be?” he repeated as they gathered around him.
“I’m not exactly sure,” Havlock answered. “The Queen arranged for us to spend some time with the Rress. Atiana has never taken the time to get a proper education, and despite having a Rider, she will benefit from what the Rress have in store for us. As you know from your own experience there, Riders don’t teach us everything. They’re famous for their philosophers and historians among other things, so we’ll all benefit. I’m told they might want us to do a little teaching while we’re at it. The Queen wants us to undergo some specialized training—she won’t tell me what it’s for—but we’ve all essentially learned the hard way how to be diplomats.” He grinned, adding, “Maybe the Rress will teach us how to do it the right way.”
Atiana clasped her hands together in joy, her happy gaze going first to Havlock, then to the others, especially Graylee. “I get to live among dragons? And go to a real school? I feel like a little girl again!”
“Well, you’re not a little girl, you’re My Lady,” Havlock reminded her. “Whatever happens, there won’t be many who can claim to have been a real queen who’s gone up against gleasons and lived to tell about it.”
She hugged his arm possessively. “You mean besides the Queen herself.”
“The years Milae and I spent with the Rress were not just a vacation,” Galborae said, nodding knowingly as he squeezed Milae’s hand in remembrance
.
“They truly opened our eyes, and in many ways I envy you. But despite their best efforts, I have to confess that though I have a scientific understanding of why the people on the bottom of our world don’t fall off, I still don’t get it. And as for a light-year . . . well, it’s just numbers to me.”
Graylee frowned. “Maybe I should stay a bit longer?”
Hawke put his arm around her waist. “No more baby steps. They’re on their own. Besides, I’m a pilot and I still can’t feel what a light-year is even if I can make the computations.”
She grinned. “You’re a marine. You don’t do computations. Without computers you’d be lost.”
He shrugged, knowing she was partly right. More education at the hands of the Rress would do them all some good.
The belly of an enormous cruiser appeared in the sky high overhead, it’s stately descent broadcast across the world. A single hatch opened in the side of that belly as it jockeyed into position—the mansion’s front lawn had never been intended to hold a ship of that size.
Suddenly, it was time.
Goodbye’s had already been said. The six turned as one and stepped to the ramp and up toward the opening. Just before entering, they turned and bowed deeply, Havlock and Atiana in the forefront, then they turned their backs on Tranxte and crossed the threshold of the ship. The hatch closed, the cruiser lifted silently, and a chapter of Tranxte’s history came to a close.
“I feel strange, and I already miss our friends,” Atiana said as an officer escorted the party to their quarters.
Havlock nodded. “We’ll be back. That’s a promise, but for the first time since you and I met, we’re just regular people. No titles or jobs.”
Atiana smiled. “The Queen will never put up with that, and it’s too soon to start our family—we’ve both agreed we don’t want to outlive our children.”
“Well, I don’t doubt she’ll claim some of our future . . .”
Outside, Galborae drew his sword and held the shimmering blade high in salute as he watched the ship diminish. The corners of his mouth trembled, and a quick glance to Milae showed real tears flowing. He took her arm, and she responded by holding his tightly. The Eight had been an intimate group for so long, they had depended on each other and leaned on each other for so long, that he felt like he should be with them rather than here. He had known saying goodbye would be hard, but how do you say goodbye to friends you’ve known for 200 years? He could not. He had to think of it as “until next time.”
When the ship disappeared, he sheathed the sword and faced the media with his arms outstretched. “People of Tranxte . . . friends . . . today we are children no longer. I stand here in awe of what we and our ancestors have accomplished in the last 200 years. Many in the Empire said it could not be done, that an emerging people could not emerge as who and what they chose to become.
“I do not stand here today and tell you we are exactly who we would have become. Instead, I stand here today and say we are more than we would have become on our own and that we are who we have chosen to become.
“Today the Empire honored a promise made to me all those years ago on behalf of the people of Tranxte—they did not come to conquer, they came to free us, and they promised to stay only as long as we asked them to stay. They proved today that they are who they say they are, something I will keep reminding everyone of during our deliberations concerning whether or not Tranxte applies for Empire membership.
“Today is day one of our new calendar. Today we celebrate. Tomorrow we begin forging our children’s future, the future of Tranxte, a future we will determine together as a united people.”
He turned with Milae and started walking up the hill toward the front door of his new home. He had to host a huge party later in the day and it worried him—in all his years, neither he or Milae had learned how to party. He thought back to the person he had been when this all started—a grim, broadsword wielding knight who had never been farther from his home than a gorlac could travel in one month. Before the gleasons came, he had been happy in his small world. Then, he had died. Since then, he had considered every day a gift. He looked ahead to the double doors of the mansion. Was he as happy now as he had been then?
He and Milae had enormous problems ahead of them, that was certain. But . . . he still considered every day a gift, so he must be.
He glanced to his side at Milae. When she looked back, her eyes widened. “Is that a smile on your face, Speaker?”
I hope you have enjoyed reading the
Spirit of Empire
series as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Whether you liked this book or not, I am asking you to take a moment and write a review on Amazon.com. Writing reviews is easy, just one or two sentences is adequate, and they are important to authors and readers alike.
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Writing is a very personal business. I’m always trying to improve, and I welcome your feedback. Check out my web site:
On that website you will find a link to my books and a link to my private email. I enjoy hearing from you, whether the comments are positive or negative. I will do my best to respond to every email.
The next book in the series, Wisdom of the Chosen, is well underway. I can’t promise a release date, but know I’m working as quickly as I can.
Please, Please, Please, send in those reviews, and don’t hesitate to email me.
Born in 1950, I have been a pilot all of my working life and a writer for the past 20 years. I flew over 600 combat missions in Vietnam and have since traveled over most of the Earth flying private jets. About half of my career has been in management positions.
I retired at the end of 2014 to write full time. In theory, that should mean my novels will come a little faster, but I am always quick to remind everyone that writing is not a simple process and I am probably the last person on the planet who should be writing. I spent most of my time in English class looking out the window at clouds and airplanes.
The Spirit of Empire series has been, surprisingly, a huge success. Sky Knights is the fourth book in the series, and Book 5,
Wisdom of the Chosen
, is underway. That will likely end the series.
Years of traveling the globe gave me opportunities to experience many different cultures. I strive to take a global view of humanity and admit to a hope that one day the people of Earth will speak with one voice. At present, however, it looks like that will take something striking—like contact with an alien civilization—to open our eyes.
Still . . . I continue to hope.
I encourage your feedback. Feel free to check out my website and/or send an email.
Email: [email protected]
Website: www.
spiritofempire.com