Ch. 8 - The Radiant Echo didn't have an actual World Rep on board. I guess they figured with so many damn Impies crawling all over her for transport to the contest on Echolalia, one of them could earn his damn pay and do the job his damn self. A quick name dropping contest among my hosts revealed that Alphonse Drake was the biggest fish in the pond, and would oversee the lodging of my Complaint. The ship's staff got us a conference room, since there was no official courtroom on the ship, but no courtroom meant no Verity Device to protect my rights, so Drake's lackey from the hangar was summoned to bear witness to my complaint along with a senior member of the Radiant Echo's crew. “Mr. Dragan, Commander Romanov and I are here to warrant that you were neither coerced nor suppressed in any way.” Drake explained. “This way the investigation of your complaint won't have to wait until we arrive on Echolalia to begin. With myself, Agent Dragan, and Commander Romanov as witnesses to warrant your rights, your complaint can be entered into the Imperial system from here and the investigation will begin at once.” “It will only take a few minutes to route the call through SpaceCom, get clearance for InstaFeed and establish our bona fides, Miss.” The Kirovan Commander said. I liked the look of her, short white hair and spotless uniform. “Then we can begin.” Then the three of them had disappeared into the conference room, leaving me in a lovely lounge with the even more lovely Arandia Prince, who seemed determined to make up for any injustices I'd ever suffered in life all by herself. She had a pretty good shot at it. “You don' haveta sit here with me.” I said. “M'sure there's other stuff you'd rather be doing.” “Nonsense.” She answered giving me the concerned and determined version of her million watt smile. “I am just so sorry that your first evening on board the Radiant Echo must be spent on such unpleasant business when there are so many more pleasant diversions available.” “S'nice of ya.” I smiled, fighting the worms in my belly. Filing a formal complaint against the Company hadn't seemed like such a big deal from the other side. I tried to think about art instead, but for once my fire was ashes. “We've been so avidly looking forward to your impending arrival.” She explained, laying one of her delicate little hands on my thigh. “Most of the contestants to be picked up on this run are from Kirova, you see. In point of fact, it became clear through our group dialogue that not one of us had ever actually met a Cthonian before. We of Echolalia passionately adore new experiences of all kinds. It's one of the reasons we were so inordinately pleased to be chosen by the Emperor, Long May He Reign, to host this first part of the tournament of Art!” Arandia Prince talked more than anyone I'd ever me, but she was so sweet, you couldn't get mad. You just couldn't get a word in either. She had deputized herself as my companion until the hearing could be set up, so I decided to make the best of it. Her perfect little hand, which was still on my leg, might have had something to do with that decision. That and it was stirring the embers of my fire. “Are all Echolalian's pretty as you?” I asked. She laughed, and it was glass over stone, sweet and tinkly and possibly dangerous, but hypnotic to the artist's mind. “Aren't you the flatterer?” She said and leaned in closer. I caught the faintest hint of something floral and under that, the intoxicating scent of her. She smelled like sex and good light and spices and my fingers twitched again. “I'm actually considered quite plain by Echolalian standards.” “Yer jokin'.” I laughed. “You've got such great lines. I'd love to sculpt your hands.” She gasped and her blue eyes turned almost black. The hand on my thigh tightened once, spasmodically, and her smile grew dreamy and sharper. “How kind of you to say such a lovely thing.” She whispered, leaning a little closer to me. Her breath was soft on my face. “Aren't you sweet?” “Yer welcome to find that out for yerself.” I whispered back, and her face drew nearer to mine. My evening was looking up after all, and the impending court proceeding was completely forgotten, lost in the prospect of more beauty to touch than I'd ever really even seen before. I leaned in as well, ready to taste the velvet of her mouth. “We're ready for you, Miss Grace.” Drake's voice hit me like cold water, and Arandia leaped back like a guilty cat. His eyebrow was raised sharply but all the questions in it were directed at her, so I reluctantly got to my feet and slipped past him into the conference room. Damn duty, anyway. “Watch yourself, Miss Prince.” The Imperial Commissioner said. It wa a tone not meant for me to hear, but listening for the tiny cracking sound of collapsing tunnels makes you sharp eared. “I certainly am.” Arandia's beauty rippled for a moment, and I stared over his shoulder as a pattern of scales chased itself across her perfect face. It was my first clue that she wasn't all human, and though it didn't diminish my desire to sculpt her, it did make me cautious. Non humans could have strange effects and I didn't want to end up elfshot. I wondered if she could shift forms, and my hands twitched again. “You won't be able to keep her all to yourself, Drake.” She hissed back, then she flounced off down the corridor. I blinked rapidly, wishing my cutter weren't packed in the hold. There was stranger rock here than I had expected. Drake closed the door and pointed out which chair was for me. I sat, and then he joined his colleagues on the other side of the conference chamber. The large viewscreen at the end of the chamber was filled with the upper torso and face of a uniformed Imperial. This one was in black, unrelieved except by the scarlet piping of his rank, and the light dusting of scales across the bridge of his nose indicated his Imperial descent. “State your name for the record, please.” The man in black had a smooth voice, pitched to encourage confidences. You could easily imagine him on the other side of a confessional back on Old Terra. “Artemisia Grace of Cthonia, sir.” I wished I had spent as much time studying Impie speech as I had studying Impie art. Then again, maybe my bad grammar would give them a clue as to the state of educomp on Cthonia. “I am told that you are here to lodge a formal complaint against Cthonia Mining Limited, is this so?” “Yeah.” My voice wavered for a moment, and I wished I had a glass of water, but that reminded me of Rumik's office too, and suddenly it was much easier to talk. “You may begin when you are ready, and tell me in your own words what is the nature of your complaint and what it entails.” “'Kay.” I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts and translating them into Imperial while they waited patiently. Drake was giving me a silent look, and his eyebrows said, “Go ahead, this is your chance.” When I spoke, it was in the Imperial worsd I'd memorized, but I poured all of my Cthonian soul into the saying of them. They had to believe me. For Boo. “My name is Artemisia Grace, and I formally accuse Cthonia Mining Limited of violating the Imperial Sentients' Rights Act. They're also in violation of other Imperial edicts regarding the education, Maslovian provisions, fair work practices, and health services sections of the Imperial Private Enterprise World Membership Compact.” Drake and his agent looked stunned. I expect it was more due to my opening my mouth and talking like a real person than due to what I said, even as serious as my allegations were. The Commander from the Echo's crew wasn't phased, but she was a tiny little old Kirovan by her look. Her name said she was from a noble house, and Kirovan nobles aren't known for being easy to read unless there's vodja involved. Given her age, it'd probably take three bottles of the stuff just to get her to smile. I'd been talking for four hours when Drake finally called a halt. In that time, Commander Romanov had gone from silent to downright surly, Drake was pale under his chocolate glory, and the air pressure in the room was off from all the gasping Agent Dragan had done. The Imperial Examiner hadn't reacted at all except to prompt me kindly, ask good questions, and make sure he understood me. He was carefully polite the whole time. Unruffled, unrushed, unreadable. “Surely, my lord, that is enough to be going on with?” Drake asked when my stomach growled for the fourth time. “Miss Grace has only just escaped Cthonia and has not eaten in hours.” “It most assuredly is enough, Your Grace.” The Examiner nodded. “Well done. We have more than enough testimony here to warrant the dispatch of a formal Investigator.” I sagged into my chair. My bit was done. All I had to do was get the investigator onto Cthonia. The Imperials would have to do the rest. “Thank you, Miss Grace for bringing these matters to Imperial attention. This is not the way that the Emperor, Long May He Reign, allows His people to be treated.” There was something hard in the Examiner's eyes now, like the light in the eyes of a hunting thing. “Investigation into your complaint will begin immediately, and the final results will be transmitted to you upon its' completion.” “Not so much worried 'bout tha', sir, uh, m'lord.” I answered truthfully. “I jus' had to get th' word out. T'rest is yer doin'.” “It is, indeed!” Agent Dragan said fervently. He seemed young to me, too, and I wondered why. “You may rest assured that the Imperial World Commission will get to the bottom of these allegations.” The Examiner reassured me again, and then the com was disconnected. “Let's get some food in you.” Drake said, rising from his chair with a creak. My own bones protested when I rose to follow him, and we all made our stiff legged way out of the conference room and down the corridor to a lift. “Officer territory.” The Commander intoned to the lift and it took off. Drake raised one of his coal brows at her and she almost smiled, but not quite. Kirovan nobles don't smile. “There'll be food for all in the Officer's Mess, and much less noise and confusion for Miss Grace's first night aboard after so much trouble.” “Is that well with you, Miss Grace?” Drake asked, inclining his head. I just nodded, leaning against the lift wall, glad to be upright instead of crammed into the conferenc room chair. He nodded to Romanov and she led the way out of the lift and into a room full of food. After four hours spent reciting the sins of the Mining Company Admin, the sight of so much plenty was almost enough to make me cry. But Cthonian's don't cry, so I didn't. I was quickly ensconced at a long table with Romanov on one side. The room was mostly empty. Drake settled in across from us after dispatching Agent Dragan to fetch trays. Romanov handed me a flask from her hip and I knocked it back, sighing gratefully. It was my first taste of vodja, and after all that talking it tasted pretty damn good. It wasn't engine cleaner, but it would kill brain cells for sure. Dragan returned with trays full of savory food, and my mouth watered. We all tucked in and silence ruled unbroken except for the scrape of forks on dishes for several long minutes. The food was like nothing I'd ever seen, let alone tasted. There was meat and some long green vegetable stalks I didn't know the name of, smothered in sauces, plus some tasty white squishy stuff that was pipng hot and melted in the mouth. I was later to learn that the food was vat grown soy pro, but at the time it tasted like a feast from the Emperor's own table, and couldn't have been finer. “S' John Dragoman okay?” I asked Agent Dragan when my immediate hunger was sated. I had settled in to eat more slowly, savoring the flavors and textures. “Well, indeed, Miss Grace. Thanks for asking.” He answered with typical Imperial brevity. “He's up and about and right as rain again. And quite pleased to be back on the Radiant Echo, too, though he's apologetic for having abandoned you on your first flight.” “I get that.” I laughed with relief. It was over. “I'm happier to be here now than anyplace else ever in my life.” The Imperial investigation had begun. Life on Cthonia would change forever. Boo would get fruit, and knowledge, and hope for the future, and I could go off to be an artist in the Imperium with a clear conscience. If I played my cards right and Drake's eyes weren't lying, I might even get laid. He wasn't Saint Ziggy, but he was here, and that was something my Cthonian god had chosen not to be.