Heart of Steel: Book II of the Jonathan Pavel Series (3 page)

“Commander if you would, take a detour round the river walk.”

“Aye aye skipper.” Nathan called in reply turning the car from the main street, which was still mostly pedestrian but was seeing a resumption of traffic, onto the smaller, narrower lane that was clearly marked as only open to pedestrians, cyclists, hover borders and other light vehicles. The inter-module occupied a bit of a gray area legally, but Jonathan was feeling reckless tonight as were his companions judging by their reactions.  All told, Jonathan had not taken well to being confined groundside. He drank often and heavily, and entered one self-destructive relationship after another. It didn't help that Agatha, Jonathan's downstairs neighbour for whom he had a shared love of chess and hot showers, had moved to Junopolis while Jonathan was deployed on
Titan
. His cycle of self destruction had continued wearing away his normally affable and conciliatory demeanor. It wasn’t just the being stuck groundside though. Jonathan's injuries and long recuperation had left him with deep scars both mentally and physically, and it was wearing on him everyday he remained here confined to the solid ground, and not out among the vast emptiness of the stars where he belonged. It was like the surf beating away at the rock of his resolve. The rock could withstand any assault for a time, but it would eventually be worn down.

The path Jonathan had directed Nathan onto wound through Founders Park, a leafy open space which sat at crux of where the Serentine and Agora rivers joined. Along the concrete steps, which led down to the water, stood fourteen statues, each twelve feet high and carved from marble.  They were the carved visage of fourteen of Solaria’s great heroes and statesman for whom the park was named. At either end of the row, stood empty pedestals symbolizing that the Republic's history was still being written, and new heroes would be added. The statues faced the Capital itself, which sat like a great edifice raised in the long bygone days of Rome, England or America. Looking over the park and at the great Capital and then past the statues to the river and the towering skyscrapers of the New City beyond, Jonathan felt trapped. Without  great show, he withdrew a bottle of pills from his pocket and popped one in his mouth before replacing them. His companions saw the action, but didn’t comment. Jonathan suffered from mild to moderate terraphobia, which was to simply say Jonathan grew agitated and uncomfortable in open terrestrial spaces. He felt more at home in the confined, artificial spaces of spacecraft. Cities were therefore Jonathan's more natural element. Whenever he was ground side, the artificial structures and grounds substituted for him the cramped conditions and enclosed spaces of ships. It use to be in Singking he could maintain himself with one or two doses of Oxitanie. The dose he had just taken was his fifth, and this was a good day. Jonathan suddenly stood up spying what he’d been looking for.

“Aye thar she blows,” he cried pointing gleefully to the water beyond the steppes where a crowed gathered. In the middle of the Serentine illuminated by the lights of the city, seven gaudily painted vessels glided through the water. They were trim craft, forty feet long with a crew of sixty rowers. Each was painted a different panoply of colors, and at their fore was the figurehead of a great Crag Dragon, while at their aft burned a large torch. The dragon boats were a magnificent sight. Each was commissioned and built the whole year through by different charitable organizations in the city all in anticipation of First Planting. On Sowing Eve, they were rowed the whole length of the Old District from the Capital to the Diplomatic quarter. Later they would be hauled ashore and paraded down First Street until they were carried back to Founders Park, and as the first light of daylight began to grace the horizon they’d be burned. The tradition was rich in symbolism. The Crag Dragon was the Republic's official symbol, and the trip up river represented the journey from Earth to Solaria, the Diplomatic quarter was the sight of Allen Warren's original settlement, which would grow into the great Metropolis of Singking. The journey down First street showed the growth and magnificence of the city, and the burning of the boats symbolized the old giving way to the new and providing for the promise of renewal.

Gopal pulled over the inter-module so they could stop and watch the procession. They weren’t the only ones to do so. The crowd was quite large and colorful, and not surprisingly full of families as well as drunken revelers. The launch of the boats was the unofficial end of the more family friendly revels of the earlier evening, and the beginning of the more graphic celebration which would spread beyond the River Front and throughout the city.

Jonathan and his companions sat watching the boats go when some one cried out.

“Hey, Captain Pavel, Skipper, Hey!”

Jonathan turned to see a young man in the rugged, functional clothes favored by a spacer. His boyish good looks marred by the terrible scarring on the right side of his face, where modern medicine had tried and failed to repair the result of a plasma burn. The man strode up to the inter-module before snapping to attention.

“Captain Pavel sir, Able Spacer Mi Peters of the
RSNS Bombard
formerly of the
RSNS Titan.”

Jonathan returned the salute, out of reflex and then took the man's offered hand when he thrust it out.

“I just want you to know sir, if they ever get off their asses at the Admiralty and give you a command, I’ll request a transfer aboard sir.”

Jonathan felt an uncomfortable mix of relief, gratitude, and pride.

“It would be an honor to have you aboard Able Spacer,” Jonathan offered him his flask. “Drink with me.”

The man took the flask and tilted his head back taking a good hearty swig. He then seemed to roll the liquor in his mouth as if evaluating the taste before swallowing, and nodding.

“Right good brew sir, right good.”

“I thank you Able Spacer,” Jonathan said. “Now I’m afraid we must be off, less we keep our honored host waiting.”

“By God, is that the time?” Gopal cried feigning outrage looking at his chrono. “Everyone buckle in.” The inter-module sped off zipping around the river walk back toward the main road.

Jonathan sat in silence his eyes staring ahead. The young spacer had been friendly enough but those scars. He should have hated Jonathan. He should have cursed him, screamed at him, raged and raged, but he hadn’t. William Trendale and Nathan Gopal shared a mutual look, which was lost on Zeta who was still leaning out the window trying to get a glimpse of the dragon boats. Both men were aware of their old CO’s unhappiness, and ongoing melancholia. It wasn’t unusual in the service. Often the best officers were like fish or birds. In the sea or sky, they were in their element, but put the fish on dry land or clip the bird’s wings and they were lost. Which was why they had been overjoyed when events gifted them an opportunity to if not cheer Jonathan up, then at least allow him to gain a small measure of revenge. The fact that their clever scheme, which Zeta and Jonathan had approved of wholeheartedly, involved an invitation to the most exclusive social event of First Planting, was just an added bonus. After all, who did not like a good party? Especially when it was  Senator Eugene Halman’s party! The three officers and Zeta shared an evil grin as they pulled up in front of the stately manor on First Street. The tricycle design of the inter-module contrasted starkly against the expensive ground cars and limos that were queuing up to drop off the other guests. Pulling up to the valet stand, Jonathan and his companions leapt from the vehicle with a distinct lack of grace. Nathan Gopal handed the key and a ten solar bill to the slack jawed, wide-eyed valet and said, “Do be careful my good man, she’s a rental.”

“Uh, of course sir,” the valet said.  Solaria’s social classes celebrate First Planting in distinct, yet similar ways.  Steaders, the people whose ancestors had been recruited to the original Solarian colonization effort to provide cheap labor, held debaucherous parades in the streets, intermixed with pub crawls, dances, and plays. Landeds were the descendants of the original investor class who had provided financial support for Solarian Pacific Colonial Trust in exchange for vast land grants, and who despite seeing a marked decline in their political power quite literally owned large swaths of the planet, celebrated through lavish balls and functions. The celebrations were not mutually exclusive, and often bled into one another. Often it depended on where one stood politically. Solaria had five major political parties and  a dozen smaller ones, which held a seat or two in the Quorum the national legislature or the Estate General, the local legislatures of the Estates. Among the Landeds, there were only two broad political factions with political parties serving more as cliques depending where on the spectrum you fell. Landeds divided themselves into Conservatives and Liberals, and then subdivided into Nationalist, Judicialist, Conservative Party, Liberal Party, and Democratic Populist after that. Among those who were on the Conservative spectrum, there was a reverence for Solaria’s traditions and the path the founders had followed. The Liberals were more progressive, and as such more open to intermingling, intermarrying, and intermixing with the Steaders. Nationalist and Judicalist Landeds were fairly open to the concept as well. Nationalists were in fact rabidly supportive of meritocracy. However, the Solarian Conservative League of Landowners who were frequently just called the Conservative Party were a clique of about 25 to 30 Senators who felt Solaria must adhere strictly to its founding traditions. Among those, there was the likes of Eugene Halman who had commented  on the record of doing away with the Estates General that now governed the Estates, and giving power back to the Landed families themselves, including the right of life and death over all Steaders who resided on the Estate. That was probably the least noxious of his positions. The Conservative League platform was a hodgepodge of xenophobia, and a longing for the days when Landeds had practically owned their Steaders. Of course a group so hung up on pedigree also cared far too deeply for appearances, which made intruding upon their festivities all the much sweeter.             

Jonathan and his comrades proceeded up the walk past the paparazzi drones which buzzed about. The paparazzi themselves were on the other side of the street.  Setting foot on the grounds of the mansion would lead to them spending the rest of the holiday in the city jail on trespassing charges. Jonathan and his comrades made an effort to not walk so much as strut. Jonathan and William arm and arm sharing the flask, while Nathan and Zeta sauntered, and as they reached the steps Nathan pulled Zeta in for a passionate kiss.  Jonathan offered his flask to a gawking Quorum delegate with the Black and Gold Scales of Justice lapel pin indicating he was a Judicialist. The man was too busy watching Zeta, but his companion who was most certainly a professional escort accepted, complementing Jonathan on his choice of liquor. After Zeta and Nathan had finished their several minute snog session, the party proceeded through the gilded bronze doors into the main hallway.  The Halman mansion, Jonathan knew from his habit of reading up on various historic sites and places in Singking when hungover, had been built at the beginning of the First Republic and had been burned during the Three Days of Blood, which had heralded the beginning of the Glorious Revolution.
The mansion had been rebuilt after the signing of the third constitution, and the end of twenty- five years of military rule. The architecture showed the building’s age and history. Its outer walls were simple brick, painted white with red stripes and gold gilding at key points. The riots had gutted the building, but left its core structure standing, and the interior had been rebuilt in the most opulent style imaginable. The floors were marble, and the walls were painted with agrarian frescos and the chandeliers were artificial diamonds. The doorway into the main ballroom was over ten feet high and sculpted with various mythical beasts from ancient earth lore - winged dragons, chimeras, griffins, and llamas. The herald, in a traditional double-breasted coat with purple and white leggings the colors of the Conservative party, announced them to the crowded ballroom.

“Announcing commander Nathan Gopal of the RSNS
Minerva
and his lady Ms. Zeta Chu Esquire, Lt. Captain William Trendale commander of the RSNS
Cronus
and Lt. Captain Jonathan Pavel commander of the RSNS
Titan.
”

As Jonathan and his comrades entered he could have sworn he saw William Trendale and the herald shared a conspiratorial wink.

The guests already in the ballroom were a who’s who of the upper crust of Solarian society, their offspring and associates. At a quick glance, Jonathan counted two dozen Senators, and at least as many Quorum delegates, two deputy cabinet ministers, a full blown cabinet minister, a mixture of military officers from all branches of the service, a few vid stars and several staples of the gossip pages rounded out the group. At the center of the room, was the wizened frame of Eugene Halman who currently was staring murder at Jonathan and his friends. Striding across the room in a green, backless dress, was the 6’2” brunette beauty  Heather Conigen, daughter of Robert Conigen and Maria Conigen nee Halman, Eugene's niece.

Heather wrapped her arms around William and gave him a passionate kiss.

“Oh gross Heather!” cried a slim women with natural blond hair that she bleached even blonder and green eyes.

“Get your hands off my brother!” she giggled.

Breaking the kiss, William smiled, “Hello sis,” he said giving her a hug.

William had a complicated relationship with his sister, and with most of his family. But following almost being blown out of space over New Helsinki, William had made an effort to repair the damage with his siblings, and in doing so got reaquainted with Heather who he had known in his younger days and had remained a close friend of his sister Bethany.