Come What May - A Space Opera Anthology

Future's Ending

Cleopatra stared out at the burning skyline, watching as the dual suns of Goobishen Prime set behind a wall of smoke. The fires had been stopped at the city limits, but she knew better than to believe the war was over. All she had ever known was the war, and it was all she was likely to ever know. With a sigh, she pushed away from the window, making her way back into the palace. Walking past busts of famous ancestors, she stopped beside her namesake: Cleopatra VII, or, as she liked to call her, The Cleopatra. For a moment, she stared back at the empty eyes of cold marble, not for the first time wondering what her ancestress would do if faced with times such as these.

The last warships of the Empire sat in orbit, and Cleopatra didn't have to look up to know they were still there. They had promised to leave, a term of her supposed treaty. But Cleopatra had not studied her namesake's history for nothing. She had refused to sign a full surrender. Instead, she had signed the formal withdrawal of all forces. The Empire liked to think they had the upper hand, and they did, in the long run, but for now, it would be enough to enjoy the last few years of the planet's existence with some form of autonomy.

What no one outside of Goobishen Prime knew was that the planet was close to death. The core had destabilized after a few of the palace scientists had failed to recreate the magic in a bottle effect of radiation. Instead, their experiment had first leaked, then exploded, too close to the core for the planet to recover. Now, like Marie Curie, the planet was radioactive, and no amount of lead casing could save it. But there was irony in the planet's fate, and Cleopatra was not above reveling in it. Every warrior from the Empire who had set foot on her home world was now bound to the same fate as the survivors of Chernobyl. The radiation would never leave, and the mark of one stubborn planet would be felt for decades to come.

There was little peace to be found within the walls of the palace. As the last anointed Queen of Goobishen Prime, Cleopatra knew her privacy was limited. Instead, she pasted on her air of queens, and went back to where the celebrations of her councilmen continued. They all gave a shout and a cheer at her entrance, but they were quick to return to the drink she had only been too happy to provide. They all knew this victory was fleeting.

With the grace of generations of nobility bred into her, Cleopatra swept onto her throne. A small dog came to sit at her feet while two stately creatures that at their best resembled cats of the ancient Earth Sahara took their positions at the edge of the dais. Absently, Cleopatra scratched the mutt's ears. She had been created in a lab, like much of the planet, but little Laika had as much history to her name as any member of the council. Old Worlders liked to recreate relics of their past, and they had left the Empire to avoid the persecution that followed. Every OId Worlder knew that if there was one thing the Empire hated, it was being reminded of their own humble origins. Even the name that Cleopatra's family had taken, the Second Ptolemaic Dynasty, had grated on the more elite rulers of the Empire.

"You Majesty? Would you care to join us?"

Cleopatra turned her attention to the man who had come to kneel beside her. He was handsome enough, but she knew all of her council members by heart, and none of them were brave enough to offer her more than a night of comfort.

"Thank you, Consul Plato, but I would rather you all indulged - for all your hard work." She gave him her best smile, and was pleased when he left.

"You have them all trained, better even than that mutt," said a more welcome voice. Cleopatra smiled with true warmth at the young woman who boldly took a seat on the stool beside her. Zenobia was many things, but to her Queen she was nearly everything.

"I should hope so," Cleopatra replied archly. However, around the one who knew her best, even her years of training faltered, and fine lines of worry crinkled around her eyes.

"The Empire retreats tonight?" The young woman leaned forward to try and see what Cleopatra kept hidden.

"They do."

"And you're sure they won't return?"

Cleopatra's lips quirked as she gazed down at her confidant. "I think they know it would not serve them well if they did."

"The people will call you a hero, just you wait."

"We don't need another hero, we have had enough of heroes in all our years of war. What we need is a way out, a life beyond Goobishen Prime."

Zenobia hunched forward on her stool, awkwardly leaning around one of the guard cats. "Have you found a way?"

A thousand thoughts ran across the Queen's face as her eyes dimmed from the weight of her world. "That was a part of my surrender."

"What? You called it a treaty, not a surrender."

"And so it is, for you, for them," she gestured at the councilmen, still enjoying the rewards of their labors. "But not for me."

"You're scaring me, Cleo, you don't mean that you won't leave with us?"

"The Empire is many things, Zeni, but forgiving is not one. I have done all I can, and they shall rue setting foot on our home world for many generations. But I am not a magician, I cannot pull a perfect treaty out of thin air. I can only do what I can with the powers that I have."

"You're frightening me."

"I do not mean to." Her face softened, and she reached out to caress Zenobia's cheek. "But we have known for some time that our fates were not meant to be the same."

"Yes, but I thought that just meant you were in need of an heir."

Cleopatra pulled away, staring far off into the distance at a world only she could see. "No, the Second Ptolemaic Dynasty will end with me, just as it did with her, The Cleopatra." A smile softened her stately features, making her seem like any other, free for the shortest moment of all the cares that surrounded her. "I appreciate the irony." She scratched the dog's head. "But don't you worry, my limonchik, you won't share your namesake's fate." Pointedly, she looked from dog to lover and back. "She will be yours to care for, for the rest of her life."

"But -"

"Do I accept my subjects talking back to me?" demanded Cleopatra, suddenly full of all the power of her ancestors combined.

For a brief instant, Zenobia let the betrayal show, but she quickly masked her own pain. "No, Your Majesty."

"Good, then you are to make all necessary arrangements for Laika."

"And the cats?" Zenobia eyed the fearsome creatures warily.

"No, they remain with me. This was their planet long before it was ours."

"B-" Zenobia caught herself. "Your Majesty, what plan is it that you have for us? Surely we are not to become subjects to the Empire?"

"Not at all," replied Cleopatra with a calculating smile. "There is a moon, not that far from here, in a direction the Empire has not thought to travel. It is capable of sustaining life, and I have sent several scientists on ahead to start the process."

"How did I never know?

"Because even you are not privy to every secret I keep," replied Cleopatra with a touch of too much pride. "That is your fate, Zeni. You will lead our people to a new life, far away from the war we've known here, and far enough from the Empire to live free from their rule a little longer." She gestured all around them. "The future of Goobishen Prime is no longer to be found here." She stood, glancing back once more at the woman who had shown her the closest thing to true peace she had ever known. "You will be the future of our people, I will be the future of our world, what little there may be left of it." With one last nod, she left the revelries. There was no reason to stop the celebrations of those who had survived so many years of bloodshed to finally be granted temporary peace. There was no need to bring down the mood of what remained of her people. Instead, she made sure that no expense was spared as the celebrations continued long into the night and into the following day. There would be time enough for the survivors to begin their next journey. And time enough for her to begin hers.