Return Of The Fontalo
by Linda Rigsbee
Chapter 12
Celyn followed Kenyon and Beier into Donte's office, where he was talking to Commander Adriaan on his medallion. He glanced up and gave them a warm smile, pointing at the chairs in front of his desk.
“Do you have an approximate course?” Donte asked Commander Adriaan.
The voice on the medallion responded. “If it continues its current direction, it looks to me that it may land at the airfield.”
Donte looked up at Beier. “Could you notify the airfield of a possible incoming shuttle from the Fontalo ship?” He scooted his chair over so that Beier had access to the message machine. “Keep trying to contact them,” he said to Adriaan.
“Yes Monomi.” Adriaan’s voice turned sarcastic. “I’m sure Captain Pacilio feels no need to ask permission to use his airfield.”
Celyn looked at Kenyon. He shrugged.
Beier finished his message and waited. In only seconds he had a response. He pulled it off the machine and handed it to Donte. Donte read it and addressed Adriaan. “I have confirmation that the shuttle is landing at the airfield. I need to talk to them verbally. I’ll let you know when I know something.”
“Yes Monomi.”
Donte tapped the medallion off and on. “Could you connect me with the airfield?”
Donte finally spoke to Kenyon. “I had a conversation with the captain on the spaceship yesterday and things didn’t go well. I hope….” His attention was recalled to the medallion when someone at the airfield responded.
“Monomi, we have an alien spacecraft landing at the airfield. What do you want us to do?”
“Welcome them. They speak the old language.” Donte gave him a flash course in how to welcome them and get them on the medallion talking to Donte.
Celyn leaned toward Kenyon and spoke softly. “I think we may have arrived at an inopportune time.”
Kenyon lifted a brow. “Inopportune for whom?”
Celyn smiled. Indeed. It was an opportunity for them to meet The Fontalo and certainly Donte could use the support. Obviously, the arrival was unexpected. Hopefully it wasn’t a hostile visit.
Donte looked at Celyn. “I’m delighted to see the two of you. I hope you’re ready to work.”
Kenyon laughed. “Now that’s some way to welcome guests.”
Donte gave Kenyon a wry smile. “I’m trying to climb out of a hole I dug yesterday.”
Kenyon leaned back in his chair and lifted an ankle to his knee. “What did you do this time, brother?”
“I was talking to the captain of the Fontalo spaceship and things got so bad that I terminate the conversation. I haven’t heard from them since. I hope this is him coming to talk to me.”
Kenyon frowned. “It must have been a bad conversation for you to terminate it. What did they want?”
“They have a list of leaders that is apparently outdated. He wouldn’t tell me who was on the list or what they intended to do with that list, but he did tell me that the Mascots belonged to them and he wanted me to update his list with the current leaders.” He shrugged. “He thought I was being insubordinate by not turning the Mascots over to him.”
Kenyon eyed Donte for a moment. “He didn’t know that you are a Mascot.”
Donte glanced at Celyn. “It might be a good idea if you two weren’t here when they arrive. They don’t even know we exist.”
Celyn gave him an indignant look. “I’m not leaving. We are supposed to lead the colonists to freedom. I refuse to run.”
Kenyon gave her an adoring smile. “Where she goes, I go so it looks like you’re stuck with us.”
“Monomi,” Donte’s medallion spoke. “I have Captain Ryker Tate Pacilio here and he says he will talk to you.”
After a few moments another voice spoke in the old language. Celyn had been studying the language with Neirin and Kenyon, but she still had difficulty understanding the captain.
After Donte talked to the captain, he made arrangements for a tram. He looked up at Beier. “Could you have Gerritt assemble the militia? I don’t want them visible – merely ready.”
“Yes, Monomi.” Beier left the office at a brisk pace.
Donte tapped his medallion again and, after being transferred to Adriaan, explained the situation.
“I talked to Captain Pacilio again. He is on the alien shuttle that arrived at the airfield. I have arranged for a tram to bring him to the Groot Thuis.”
Donte concluded his conversation with Adriaan and sent a message to Dalziel, informing him what was happening.
He finally turned to Celyn and Kenyon. “I apologize for the distraction.”
Kenyon gave Donte a wry smile. “I’m exhausted simply watching you.”
Donte laughed. “We can talk about this while we wait for the tram. This should be an interesting day.”
Celyn smiled at him. “Maybe even a little crazy.”
Donte nodded, glancing from Celyn to Kenyon. “How are things going between you two?”
Kenyon put an arm across the back of her chair and looked at her, his eyes expressing amusement.
Celyn’s face grew warm. She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. She couldn’t explain the sudden embarrassment. Maybe it was because their union was so new that their relationship revolved around intimacy or maybe it was because Donte was asking. “We’re getting along fine.”
Kenyon chuckled. “I certainly can’t complain. Give it a little while, though.”
Celyn jerked her head up and looked at Kenyon. His eyes were twinkling with humor.
Donte leaned back in his chair. “Are you living at the palace now, Kenyon?”
He nodded. “I like the desert and Anialwch could use another doctor.”
“I imagine Neirin is delighted with that situation,” Donte said.
Kenyon looked at Celyn, as if seeking agreement. “I feel welcome.”
Celyn looked at Donte. “He is welcome. Everyone loves him.”
Donte nodded again, his gaze shifting to Kenyon. “I’m not surprised.” A touch of humor came into his eyes. “He’s a lovable guy.”
Kenyon looked uncomfortable. “Where are Rianne and the children?”
Donte sobered. “In a safe place.”
“Premier Infantry?” Kenyon asked.
Donte nodded.
Celyn looked at Donte. “You must miss them. How long have they been gone?”
Donte smiled. “Only about a week, but it seems like a month. Yes, I miss them.”
Kenyon shifted in his chair. “So, tell us about your conversation with this captain.”
Donte repeated his conversation with the captain. “I shouldn’t have terminated the conversation.”
Kenyon smiled. “I don’t know. It sounds like you got him to come here.”
“I think he’s going to be surprised – and not in a pleasant way – that there are so many Mascots.”
“Well, if he doesn’t see little Mascots running around, maybe he won’t realize that’s a possibility.” Kenyon hesitated. “So, who do you think is on his list? He obviously didn’t know Pieter was gone.”
Donte shook his head. “I don’t know. Dad and Neirin probably are – and Farasi.”
Kenyon stood and helped Celyn to her feet. “I think we’ll get a room and rest for a while. We were up early this morning to catch the tram. It should be a few hours before he arrives.”
Celyn stood close to Kenyon, looking up at him. She was tired, but mostly she wanted some time alone with him.
He looked down at her and smiled. His eyes harbored a touch of humor and hunger. All this love wouldn’t last, but she was going to embrace it right now. Living with Rianne and Donte for a year had taught her that having children around could stifle a love life. Sometimes the way that Rianne and Donte looked at each other had prompted her to take the children to play near the pond for a while. She hoped to have a relationship like theirs. She wished she could see Rianne right now - but not as much as Donte did, no doubt.
Celyn and Kenyon were at the station with Donte when the tram came in carrying the captain. The best term Celyn could think of to describe the captain was big. He was taller than Donte or Kenyon, and a lot wider. The Captain was thick around the middle. He dropped a metal object on the floor and when he bent to pick it up, he spread his legs in an ungainly manner. He was a colonist, probably around forty-five, and his features were pale, as if he had spent little time under the ultraviolet lights. The thing that struck her most about him was his eyes. They were a light gold with small pupils and surrounded by black lashes. His dark brows were bushy and low, giving him a perpetual scowl. She felt like shrinking back to Kenyon when he looked at her, but she didn’t. Instead, she lifted her chin and stared boldly back at him. Even his smile had an evil look to it. He had the thinnest lips she had ever seen. His teeth were yellow and uneven, with gaps between them.
Donte approached the captain with his usual amicable smile and delivered his greeting in the old language.
It was amusing to watch the captain. For a few seconds he would look at Donte’s eyes; then his gaze would travel all over Donte’s face – back to his eyes and then on to study his uniform. To be fair, most people stared at Donte. His features and physique were so attractive as to be awe inspiring. The captain would discover that Donte was more than simply awe inspiring to behold. Of course, he had already discovered that. Wasn’t that why he was here?
Donte extended a hand to Captain Pacilio. “Welcome. I am Donte.”
For a moment the captain stared at him. Finally, he grasped Donte’s hand. “You didn’t tell me that you were a Mascot.”
Donte met his gaze. “Does it matter?”
Captain Pacilio studied his face and eyed him up and down. “I’ve never seen a Mascot before. I expected something different.”
He didn’t say what he expected and Donte didn’t ask. Since it was doubtful that it had any bearing on the man’s mission, Donte said nothing.
The captain looked at Donte’s eyes and hair. “You are a mixture.”
Donte nodded. The captain appeared to have a habit of stating the obvious as if it were a new discovery. Donte turned and introduced the Captain to Kenyon and Celyn.
He shook their hands, his gaze lingering on Celyn. That was no surprise. Celyn was breathtakingly beautiful. Still, it crossed Donte’s mind that the captain knew she was a Mascot. Mascots knew when they greeted a woman Mascot, but colonists rarely did.
The captain eyed Kenyon, whose smooth cheeks declared him a Mascot. He didn’t appear to be as interested in Kenyon – possibly because his bloodline was still pure. Was it the fact that they were young Mascots that held the captain’s interest, the fact that they were pure, or could he detect that they were fertile? Donte pushed it from his mind. He was probably imagining things.
The captain’s attention returned to Donte. Once again, he studied Donte’s face, as if it held an answer to a question. Finally, he gave Donte a wry smile.
“Mixing didn’t hurt your looks any.” His gaze traveled over Donte’s lean build. “You’re the best argument for genetic modification that I could imagine.”
Donte stared at him. Was there currently an argument concerning the engineering of Mascots? Hopefully the Captain didn’t come to Purlieu for product samples. No, he said he wanted all the leaders. Did they want to remove the Mascots from leadership? While Donte wasn’t willing to fight to keep Mascots in leadership positions, he would definitely fight for the right of colonists to make that choice, not The Fontalo. Had Dalziel misinterpreted his vision the way Celyn had hers?
The captain continued to stare at him. “You can’t be more than twenty-five.”
Donte shook his head. “Mascots always look younger than they are.” He turned to the door. “A coach is waiting to take us to the Groot Thuis.” He didn’t want to get into the age issue. That would open the door to a whole new set of questions.
The captain fell into step beside Donte, his attention finally shifting to the room around them. “This is a nice lobby. I like it.”
When they climbed into the coach, the captain grimaced. “You obviously have the technology to build something more comfortable than this.”
Donte smiled. “It isn’t far. We are trying to maintain the pristine environment.” The captain was obviously used to better traveling accommodations.
When they reached the Groot Thuis, Kenyon and Celyn left them. They were struggling with the language, but Donte suspected the real reason they left was because they decided the captain was harmless. Donte didn’t think that was the case, but he felt capable enough of defending himself against the man.
Donte took the captain to his office and gave him a comfortable chair before sitting in the chair behind his desk. The captain examined the office for a few minutes in silence. Finally, his gaze came back to Donte.
“Nice. All this wood couldn’t have been friendly to the environment, though.”
“It’s renewable,” Donte said.
They talked about the weather, the mountains and the tram lines for a while. Finally, the Captain leaned back in is chair, resting his elbows on the chair arms while his hands wrapped around the curved ends. He studied Donte’s face again.
“You never answered my question. How old are you?”
Donte shrugged. “Forty.”
The captain’s eyes were like that of a lobo. “How did that happen?” He asked. “All the Mascots were supposed to be sterile.”
“I was in the womb during the time the serum was administered. My mother didn’t take the serum.”
The captain watched him for a moment. “Who was Pieter to you?”
“He was my grandfather.”
“Who was your father?”
“Quade. My mother was Anica, Daughter of Saskia and Pieter. Saskia was the queen of Bosvrouwen until she became Pieter’s mate.”
The captain continued to watch him. “That would make your mother a princess…and you a prince.”
Donte shrugged. “The title doesn’t matter. All leaders have equal importance.”
“Ah, a point on which we agree.” The captain’s gaze traveled over Donte’s face and landed on his eyes. “A man as good looking as you; I wonder why you don’t have a wife.”
Donte frowned. “Wife?”
The captain shrugged. “Mate, I believe you call it.”
Donte said nothing.
The captain gave him a satisfied smile. “I think I’ve found your weakness.”
Donte looked at him, but remained silent.
The captain’s smile was smug. “You won’t lie.”
Donte lifted his brows. “That’s a weakness?”
The captain nodded. “So, tell me, are you fertile?”
Donte looked him in the eye. “That’s a private question and I don’t know how it would concern you.”
The captain’s smile was sardonic. “Everything on Purlieu concerns me. As I said, Fontalo financed this experiment and they designed the Mascots. They have the right to do with them as they please.”
“What about the colonists?”
The captain shrugged. “That’s up to Oriel. If they want to leave the colonies here, we don’t care. All we want is the Mascots.” He stuck a hand into his jacket and pulled out a piece of paper. “These people specifically, but I’m sure they will want any illegal offspring as well.” He gave Donte a stern look. “You weren’t supposed to be breeding at all, let alone mixing.” He pulled spectacles out of his pocket and put them on. He shook the paper out and began reading the names of those he was supposed to collect. “You said Pieter was dead, so we needn’t be concerned about that one. That leaves Adriaan, Niall, Xever, Eilig, Farasi, Neirin, and Quade.” He lowered the paper and looked at Donte over the rim of his spectacles.
Hearing his father’s name read from a possible termination list twisted Donte’s stomach into a knot. “What do you want with them?”
The captain sighed. “Again, with the questions. It doesn’t matter what we want them for. As I explained, we have the legal right to remove them from Purlieu.”
Donte sat up straight, leaning forward as he confronted the captain. “I heard you say that, but these are not items to be owned. They are human beings. You are correct in saying it doesn’t matter why you want them. Where you err is in thinking that you will remove them without their permission.”
The captain stared at him, his mouth hanging open, obviously not willing to accept what he had heard. Finally, he clamped his mouth shut. His face turned red and his eyes were cold.
“Young man, I don’t think you understand who I am. I’m the CEO of Fontalo. You don’t tell me what is going to happen or not happen. I tell you. Do you understand me?”
Donte leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Captain, there is nothing wrong with my hearing or comprehension of your importance.”
The captain stabbed a finger at the paper. “You will deliver these people to me within the week or face the consequences.”
Donte stood and placed his hands on his desk. “And what are those consequences?”
The captain stood, stretching to his full height and looking down on Donte. “If you do not deliver them in the next week, we will hunt each one of them down and terminate them.”
“If I give them to you, then you will terminate them anyway. What difference does it make?”
“If they come willingly, we will not terminate them.”
Donte had a sense of evil intent. The man said not being able to lie was a weakness. He was proud of his ability to lie. Donte straightened, making no attempt to match the man’s height. He couldn’t, but that didn’t make him wrong. “You can mark Farasi off your list. I already terminated him.”
The captain’s eyes narrowed. “You insolent little…Mascot. We have been gone too long. Power over the colonies has gone to your head. You cannot defeat us. You have no idea….” He slammed a fist on the desk “No one can defeat us. You have one week to get all those Mascots to us – including you and any other illegal offspring. You have no legal right to keep them from us.”
Donte stepped around the desk, facing the captain. He maintained eye contact and kept his voice calm. “I feel certain that you understand hierarchy. I am the ruler of Bergen and the elected leader of Purlieu. When you speak to me, you will do so with the respect I deserve, regardless of how you feel about me. Have I made myself clear?”
For a moment the captain stared at him. His expression wavered between shock and confusion. Finally, he gave Donte a sardonic smile, his tone sarcastic. “Yes Monomi.”
Donte stepped around him and opened his office door. “I will arrange for a tram to take you back to your shuttle.” He motioned for the captain to step ahead of him. “I will notify the leaders of your request.”
The captain started for the door and stopped when he realized what Donte was saying. “Be sure to tell them that we have the legal right.”
Donte gave him a wry smile. “I assure you that I will give them all the information you gave me.”
Donte tapped his medallion. “Beier, would you meet me at the station?”
“Yes, Monomi.”
The captain frowned. “What language is that? It sounds familiar.”
Donte led the captain down the hall. “I’m sure the language has evolved over hundreds of years to the point that it is no longer a representation of the original.”
Beier met them at the station and Donte explained what the captain wanted. “I want you to escort him to the airfield and see that he gets off the planet safely.”
Beier’s eyes expressed comprehension. Donte was telling him not to let the man out of his sight.
Beier boarded the tram with the captain and it left the station, bound for the airfield. Beier was armed and probably physically capable of handling the captain. He fully comprehended the situation.
Donte took the coach to the Groot Thuis, where he discussed the situation with Celyn and Kenyon.
Kenyon shook his head. “Surely he doesn’t expect you to turn over all the Mascots.”
Donte leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face with his hands. “Actually, I think he does expect that. I wonder what he will do when it doesn’t happen.”
“He’s a bully,” Kenyon said. “The question is; how much muscle can he display?”
Donte lifted his brows. “I don’t have a clue.”
Celyn looked at Donte. “We can’t fight Oriel.”
She was frightened and Donte could hardly blame her. He sighed. “We can fight one spaceship.”
She shook her head. “IF we won, they’d just send more. After all, we belong to them.”
Kenyon was silent a moment, his expression reflective. Finally, he looked at Donte. “I wonder if it was actually a Prophesy or if someone simply made an educated prediction.”
It certainly was a possibility. Donte looked at Celyn. “I think we need to put you and Kenyon in the shelter.”
Kenyon shook his head. “No, they’d be looking for me. Put Celyn in there, though. I don’t think he knew she was a Mascot.”
Celyn gasped. “I’m not going to the shelter and leave you two here to face them alone – and Papa. How could they treat us as if we were nothing more than a kernel of corn – a seed that they have developed and own rights to? How can they own us?”
Donte looked at Kenyon. “To them we are improved livestock. We leaped the fences and created offspring that needs to be culled.”
Kenyon studied Donte a minute. “And yet, he said you were the best argument for genetic modification.”
Donte suddenly felt unclean. He’d had that feeling before - when Farasi had determined he wanted him to father an heir. Everyone thought that was wrong. Surely everyone would see the similarity with what The Fontalo wanted. Donte had no intention of being taken again for that purpose. He would die fighting it, if necessary. All the same, the colonists had a right to know what they were getting into.
Donte sighed. “I need to notify all the leaders and get the cabinet together. A week isn’t much time to prepare.”
Celyn’s eyes were wide with fear. “You’re going to fight them – even though they have a legal right?”
Donte had started to get up, but her question dropped him back into the chair. “Celyn, if I accepted their legal right, I would have to turn my children over to them. I’m going to fight them until I have no breath left to fight.”
She stared at him a moment, as if it had not occurred to her that the children would be involved. Slowly her expression changed to determination. “So will I.” She looked at Kenyon.
He smiled at her. “I’ve already told you. Where you go, I go.” He looked at Donte. “Besides, I swore an allegiance to Donte years ago.”
Soft Science Fiction
