CHAPTER 10

She could see it in their eyes as she walked down the rows of cubicles. No one actually ever overtly looked at her but, when Taylya would attempt to single someone out, their head would snap back. She could see the tips of their ears quivering as they pretended to have been doing something else all along. Taylya actually remembered a day when she was offended. She remembered how, back then, when she got home, she would retreat to her chamber and cry for hours on end. These days, she almost found it amusing.

Somehow, Taylya had discovered something about her kind and, quite possibly, every other race as well. They were all just plain full of shit. Taylya was not sure when that epiphany struck her. She was certain that she did not know how she accumulated this bit of wisdom but, the one thing she was absolutely sure of was, it was correct. It was not that these people, her fellow Fey, did not matter. It was more like their opinions of her did not or, at least, they did not until they could do something to her.

Most the ones here, on this floor, were simply office workers. They would probably never matter to Taylya. All of them were here for one reason only, to do her father’s bidding and file his papers. He often called them an extension of his brain. Elves had invented the bureaucracy, like so many other things. It was funny how they never bragged about that like they did everything else.

Taylya almost found it funny. She could see, in her mind, an instructress with a big stick, telling the little ones that, “first we learned to control fire, and then we invented the triplicate form so that we could remember how we did it. This led to the filing cabinet!” She would then smack the stick on her board and say, “now repeat that!” Taylya was almost giggling when she reached the doors to her Father’s outer chamber.

Like anyone else, Taylya had to wait. She could remember doing that in human offices too. They called it the ‘corporate world’ and it was not so much unlike where she was now. The humans had finally learned how to make buildings of glass and steel that rose to the sky, like the one she was in now. They had even put buildings like this one, all over their planet. They had finally figured out the secrets of paper, the printing press, and any number of inventions that were things that Taylya’s people had been using for ages.

As Taylya wandered over to the glass window and looked down on that gorgeous urban sprawl, the city of the elves, the imperial seat of power, their capital Cheau-Gan, she realized how normal it must look to the humans that came here now. When Taylya reflected on it, the differences between her home city and any like sized urban center, on Earth, was really quite small. It was certainly not to the degree of difference that those human cities had with each other. Taylya supposed a New Yorker would be more at home in Cheau-Gan than he might be in say, Hong Kong. Someone from London would definitely find Mexico City a far more alien environment than here.

Of course, Cheau-Gan had been here long before every city on Earth was just a village and, most of them, not even that. The humans that traveled here in the past must have looked upon the wonder of the elves, on their creations and machines, and thought it magic. That begged a more serious question in Taylya’s mind. What were they thinking now?

Taylya had her doubts that many in leadership positions had even considered that possibility. They still dealt with the humans as they always had. At best, they treated with the stronger tribes as simply other clans of elves. They were always confident in the irrevocable human ability to destroy themselves. To men like Taylya’s father, those strong humans would, one day, be as weak as all the rest. The elite of Fey society simply saw them as “uppity” and relied on the great force of time to correct a glitch in nature. Taylya had no doubt that her father was acting on this belief and, quite possibly, the Emperor as well. She had no idea what the Olyan-Notae thought and was equally confident that she did not want too.

As was the case with the Wychenclyf, you call their name and they come. Taylya heard her father’s doors opening and she turned to see the party that was leaving. Naturally she recognized that it was a party of Olyan-Notae. That was impossible to miss. The ones who were not wearing those pressed, dark gray, uniforms had on the mottled woodsman camouflage that largely consisted of the fur of many small animals. They also had those strange haircuts they liked so much and, as was always the case, they smelled worse than humans. At least the humans had no choice. For the Notae it was not only deliberate but, a badge of honor.

At least a smiling face followed the grunge fest that had obviously occupied her father’s meeting hall. Jeuhal Neubris came out behind them and walked right up to Taylya with a smile. Instead of rendering formal customs, they hugged instead. Jeuhal laughed as he told his cousin, “decided to join the land of the living again?”

It was a small comfort, to Taylya, that the first extended conversation that she had carried on, in her native language, in quite some time, was with her childhood playmate. These days Jeuhal served her father as a second. Jeuhal took care of many of the day to day activities that it took to run the Noveus-Faeyu. It made him something of an important man in his own right. It also made him worth talking too.

They wandered into the outer meeting chamber and Taylya noticed that they were alone. She was not that surprised if, not somewhat disappointed. Jeuhal noticed this and it surprised Taylya more than the absence of her father. She was just so used to being around humans now. They could never read her body language and, so, she found it a moot task to try and hide it. She would have to relearn that skill rather quickly.

“Your father will see you Taylya,” Jeuhal told her with a hint of regret. “Don’t worry about that.”

Taylya tried to pretend not to be as she walked around the room, examining new trophies that her father had collected, “I wasn’t concerned cousin. I was just wondering what that was,” she pointed to the door with contempt, “all about. Why were they here?”

Jeuhal was always the diplomat. Taylya supposed it was not just a job requirement for his position, it was more like a survival skill. He phrased it in such a way as to say nothing at all, “what do you think?”

Taylya very well knew. Her sister had been promised to the Notae. First Taylya took action and, apparently, her father was willing to balk on the deal as well. The results of these actions had brought Feyland to brink of civil war. Of course, it would not be the first nor the last and, unlike such activities amongst the humans, it was far less of a serious matter.

The clans lived in a perpetual state of war, anyway. Sometimes it simply got more violent but, no one was stupid enough to destroy anything of serious value to society. To do so would bring down the wrath of nearly every other clan. It would not matter how strong you were then, you and your family would simply vanish into history. It had been a long time since anything like that had happened and, Taylya supposed, it was unlikely to ever happen again.

Of course, it all led Taylya to one simple question, “how bad were we hurt in the purge?”

Again, Jeuhal answered without really saying anything, “not as bad as some.”

Taylya broke out in English, “no fucking shit Jeuhal.” She then switched back to her native tongue, “are you going to keep dancing around my questions all day? This could get very old, very quickly.”

Jeuhal did not seem to take the outburst with any great alarm. He seemed to find it humorous, “you’ve been around the humans too long, dear cousin. I’m not picking at you, I’m simply pointing out what it’s done to you.”

Taylya snapped back, “I’m doing the job I was assigned, just like we all do, for our clan, for the empire.”

“Oh I see,” Jeuhal replied, “and for some strange reason, unlike everyone else, you never seem to complain. Even after certain, how should I say this, incidents? You still keep running right back to your pet humans.”

She should not have been but, Taylya was not that surprised. She could see how easily he learned of the incident with the society warriors. That was really very simple actually. Taylya’s sister, Camiceau, told their father and their father told Jeuhal. The fault was with her father and there was nothing that Taylya could do about it. She decided not to waste time trying.

“I did what I had to do,” Taylya stated plainly.

“No doubt,” Jeuhal replied. “I would have done the same. I just can’t help but thinking that you would have never been in that situation, in the first place, if you would just stop following them around, and you know who I mean by them.”

“I have,” Taylya stated in an aggressive tone. “I’ve been working as an observer with the Americans for almost eight months now.”

“So you have,” Jeuhal replied, “I believe you Taylya.”

What was he saying? In frustration, Taylya growled at him, “is there anything there to disbelieve?” He said nothing in reply. That left Taylya pacing away. She finally stopped and just told him, “I can take this from anyone in this entire building, from my father to the janitor. You? Why you?” He still said nothing so Taylya yelled at ceiling, “that’s enough already! Father?”

The other set of doors to the room opened and her father walked in. Taylya was a little surprised to see him wearing more formal attire. He was not completely decorated as if he were going to court but, for him to just be wearing such garb, in his own sanctuary, was just plain wrong. Taylya could remember his disdain at such manner of dress. He always complained about it, he always shed it as soon as he could, preferring more practical wear. Why was he dressed in it now and, even if, he wore it more casually than most?

“I will handle this Jeuhal,” the man said with a waive of his hand. It looked as if Jeuhal had no wish to do it but, he also did not complain. He left by yet another set of doors as Quintescau Ceascu seemingly glided into the room. His manner of dress made it appear as such, a simple trick really. Taylya still wondered what the meaning of this was but, she did as she should and fell to her knees. She bowed her head and wondered what her father had in mind. She closed her eyes and recited her poem as was required.

As much as her actions were custom, Taylya also knew they served a practical purpose and one that, until now, she had never thought twice about. She had just made herself completely vulnerable. She had literally just offered her life to her father. He could take it if he wished. She knew the man well, he would do it without hesitation if he thought it required. She more felt this than knew it. That was why she sang. Remembering the lines, concentrating on the perfect pitch, all lessons that went back to her earliest days in school. They were designed to keep you thinking only of them. There would be no time to be afraid. There would also be no way to defend herself if she ever realized an attack was coming.

Nothing came. Without being prompted, Taylya rose to her feet and faced her father. She waited for him to speak and it was not very long before he said, “so you do remember who you are.”

“I belong to the greatest of all creation,” Taylya recited the proper verse for him. “I am the worthy, I am the master, I am the inheritor of all that is, without me there is no life, without me there is no plan.”

“And I am not very religious as you very well know,” it sounded almost as if he were making a joke. Quintescau then turned towards his inner chambers and motioned for Taylya to follow. He did not look back to see if she did. Taylya shut the doors behind her and stayed in step, behind and to his left. The hallway was dark, more traditional than she remembered from her last visit. She was almost thankful when they reached his office. It had windows, was well lit, and looked more practical to her eye. That made Taylya wonder about a few things and, strangely enough, those things were all about her.

Her father walked to one of his walls which was really a hidden closet door, It folded out to form a screen and he began to change. As he did Taylya just stood there. He said nothing to her so she asked, “why put me through all that?”

“Did you not deserve it?” He asked and did not suspect there would be an answer.

Taylya was almost timid when she did respond, “I think I deserve an answer.”

Quintescau closed up his closet and was dressed in a fashion that was more to what Taylya was used too. He wore his tan uniform with his less than obvious rank markings and pins of the clan. He was still buttoning up his shirt as he told his daughter, “a far less enlightened father would have already had your head. Why do you always force me into such awkward positions? You have made a habit of that Taylya.”

There was no question about what he was talking about, maybe. Taylya had done more than a few things over the years that might qualify in the category of which he spoke. Still, she had to believe he meant the most recent and she told him, “you knew what I was doing. How could you not?”

Quintescau wasted no time admitting, “of course I did. I even helped you along the way. Do you really believe you could have gotten your sister out of this city without my knowing about it?”

“Well,” how did you answer that? Taylya truly believed what she said, “yes.”

“Then,” Quintescau acted as if he were scolding her, “you trusted Ian Balfour, a human. For that matter, you trusted any number of humans. Are you ever going to learn that you can’t trust them?”

Taylya sneered, “You do business with Balfour, the same as everyone else.”

“That doesn’t mean I trust him,” Quintescau replied. “I thought you had better sense. That is why I trusted you with your sister and, now, I have to ask myself if that trust has been misplaced, again. Do you remember the last time you got mixed up with the Camelonians? That my dear, nearly cost you your life. If what your sister tells me is even half true, which I doubt it is, it almost got both of you killed this time as well.”

Quintescau eased off and then became more fatherly as he told her, “when are you ever going to learn Taylya? They are humans and they are weak creatures. Yes there are some good men in their midst but, overall, they will always fail you. It is a lesson that you never seem to grasp.”

Taylya was not so accepting and she scornfully replied, “I’m not the one who brought them here. Who did that father? Was it you or the Emperor? I know that Montceaus would have never condoned such an action.”

That made Quintescau laugh, “you think you know politics, do you? If I were you I would leave that to those of us who know better.”

“I know that,” Taylya was becoming angry at the condescension, “you are going to hand your daughter over to those animals. Even after all that I did to make sure it could not happen.”

Despite his daughters anger, Quintescau only smiled, even had a slight laugh, and then he told her as he walked behind his glass desk, “all that you did? You see child, that is why you should leave politics to those of us who have been trained for the job.”

“Why?” Taylya would not let her anger go, “you go through all of that just so you can turn her over? I don’t understand this.”

Quintescau was shuffling some papers in front of him as he quietly commented, “you were never meant to.”

Taylya kept right on going, “you sent her to that dangerous place. Then you sent me after her and…”

“I did nothing of the sort,” her father replied. “I sent her to Gnomeland where, if she had stayed, she would have been perfectly safe. I made sure that she had protection and then I sent you, one of our finest warriors, to make sure the entire operation didn’t fall apart, which it did!”

“Oh I see,” Taylya felt a tear but held it back, “we’re just an operation?”

Quintescau looked frustrated as he said, “were you here for the purge, Taylya?”

“What?” Taylya was stunned.

“The fact is that neither of my children were here to be targets,” Quintescau told her with a deadly seriousness about her.

A sudden horror swept over Taylya, “you knew?”

“Course I knew,” Quintescau replied and waived the matter off as if it were nothing at all, “I arranged it. It was necessary.”

“How many of our people died in the violence,” Taylya tried to remain calm as she asked, “did anyone report that to you? You have so many minions around here I’m sure someone told you.”

“Grow up Taylya,” her father demanded, “it wasn’t how many that was important, it was who.”

“I see,” the daughter said, “so you had a specific target in mind when you started all that madness. I have to wonder who is better, us or them. They don’t periodically wreck their own cities every time someone gets in their way.”

“No they don’t,” Quintescau replied, “they do it continuously. We are far more orderly with our violence. We don’t wreck our entire world every time we have need of letting off steam. Our competition strengthens us whereas, the humans, they simply destroy without even asking why they’re doing it. I should think the current campaign is sufficient evidence of that. It was something I would hope that you might learn.”

As far as Taylya was concerned, she had learned enough. When she left the tower that belonged almost exclusively to the Noveus-Faeyu, she got in her car and left the city entirely. She did not stop till she sat, at RAF Merlin, in the officers club. She still preferred to come here as opposed to where all the Americans liked over at NIKA, some twenty miles away. The British served alcohol that she could actually drink and Taylya decided that she wanted as much of it as she could get. Few people paid her any mind here. Both humans and elves frequented this place and, it was probably the one establishment in two worlds that Taylya could be anonymous. Unfortunately for her, she was not anonymous enough.

John pulled up the barstool next to her and dropped some currency on the counter as he told the bartender to pay for Taylya’s round and the one that he ordered. Taylya was not impressed and she showed it. She was nearly pouting when she said, “what do you want John?” She then looked around the room to see if he had company. Apparently he didn’t.

John Snow noticed her wandering eyes and said, “he’s not down here right now.”

“Small favors,” Taylya replied. Then she sounded a little bitter when she said, “I suppose he has his company now.”

“Don’t start that Tay,” Jonn told her. “As I recall, you were the one who…”

“Shut up John,” Taylya replied. “Since when do you find yourself in a position to give me advice about my personal life.” Before John could even answer she snapped out, “I’ve had enough of that today.”

That caused the British sailor to nod, “went to see your old man, didn’t you?” Taylya did not answer so John told her, “I have a similar reaction when I’m around my mother.”

“John,” Taylya replied with a hint of finality in her voice, “I’m really not in the mood today and, speaking of which, today isn’t the old days. You lost your right to comment on my life, a long time ago.”

“Wasn’t that long ago,” John told her. Before she could throw attitude at him again he said, “besides, it’s not your personal life I’m interested in.”

Taylya took another sip of her drink and said, “I’m not in the mood to talk about that either.”

“Tay,” John got firm, “somebody fucked up. You heard what happened, right?” Taylya had an almost evil stare when her eyes drifted in John’s direction, “which thing? There are so many John, I loose track these days.”

There was little doubt that Taylya was deliberately being agitating and John knew it. He grunted as he pulled a rolled up newspaper out of his jacket and shoved it in front of her. It was written in Elf, and was even the official state news service, so, Taylya figured that John must have picked it up in Kalean-Erc. She couldn’t imagine him coming down here to go anywhere else. Past that, Taylya was disinterested in the head line. It was the usual dribble pumped out by the Imperial news.

John noticed her reaction and pointed to the bottom of the page, “not that. Look at the bottom.”

Suddenly, John did spark her interest. She became puzzled, “who did it?”

“That’s the problem Tay,” John told her, “I don’t know and nobody else does ether. Who would have a reason to hold an American officer prisoner and then just hand her back?”

“Says here,” Taylya was noting the paper, “she was lost at that firebase they had, you know, from the night when it was attacked. The obvious answer would be the Orc’s but…”

“They don’t take prisoners Tay,” John was dead serious as he replied, “we’ve both seen that.”

“I think I need more to drink,” Taylya said and ordered another round. When the bartender was gone she said, “does this effect our mission?”

John rubbed at his chin and in a frustrated tone he replied, “I don’t know. I don’t like it when I’m this in the dark. We’re getting close Taylya and, at best, this is getting in the way. The Americans are crawling all over that area now. They flew a forensics team up there yesterday. That‘s the same place we had to scuttle those scientists. Now we can‘t get any where near it again.”

Now Taylya felt a twinge of concern, “and at worse?”

John stabbed the profile picture of the Lieutenant and said, “this is what we’ve been looking for.”

That was a revelation for a lot of reasons. Taylya knocked back her entire drink that had been completely full when she started. Then she looked John in the eye and said, “you believe me, don’t you?”

John only shrugged and replied, “I know your not prone to hallucinations. I also know you’ve got to find out what happened to that girl, the one they found. You’re the only one who can…”

Taylya grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her. She kissed him long and hard. After a few moments, John even quit resisting. When she pushed him back she got off the stool, walked by him, and whispered in his ugly flat ears, “my billets, now Commander.”

John watched her walk to the door of the officers club and then just stand there with her back turned to him. When John dropped off the stool she walked through the door. John took a deep breath and told himself, “you are seriously fucking up John.” He went anyway.