Eyes of Tomorrow (Duchy of Terra Book 9), Glynn Stewart [reading well .TXT] 📗

“It’s as true for lost friends and shed blood as it is for money.”

“So it is,” Oxtashah agreed. “Very well, Morgan Casimir. I will travel to the Astoroko Nebula with you and we will make peace with this ancient leviathan.”

She gestured around the room.

“I think it is within all of our power to end this war for our people,” she declared. “So, I suggest we take one ship, with the five of us, into the heart of the hive.”

The Wendira’s multifaceted eyes now bore into Morgan’s gaze—and Morgan’s soul.

“I trust your Dr. Dunst,” she told her. “And I know he would follow you into hell, Division Lord Casimir. So, lead on into that hell.

“I believe that you believe we will find peace there.”

Chapter Sixty-Six

Rin Dunst had not been on Earth in over ten years. Even before that, he’d been born and spent almost his entire life in the northern hemisphere. That Hong Kong was covered in Christmas decorations in the middle of what was clearly summer was…disconcerting.

It wasn’t the main source of his discomfort, though. When he’d landed at the spaceport, he’d been met by a very earnest human Imperial Marine with a summer suit in exactly his size. The young man had turned out to be his permanent escort and was driving the car as they headed into a district of luxury residential towers.

Slowly. Hong Kong traffic hadn’t improved over the centuries.

“Lance, who exactly assigned you to me?” he asked the soldier. “I wasn’t expecting an escort.”

“Sir, you’re a Category One asset,” the Marine pointed out. “You are supposed to have a permanent detail, but according to the brief I received, the Institute and the Marines haven’t sorted that out yet.”

“Huh.” Rin stared out the window at the streets of Hong Kong. Even though—or perhaps because—it was Christmas Eve, the city was busy. Sidewalks were full of people, only about three-quarters of them human, cheerfully yelling and making their way around.

“We’ll have you to your appointment in no time, sir,” the Marine told Rin. “I’m coordinating with the Division Lord’s detail.”

“I supposed Morgan would have one of those,” Rin admitted.

“Most flag officers do, sir,” the noncom said. “And, of course, Division Lord Casimir is currently the center of everyone’s attention. She did end a war.”

Rin chuckled.

“Even if she thinks everyone else involved should get the credit,” he murmured. “Typical.”

“I can’t speak to that, sir,” the Marine said. “We should be at the Tower already, but, well…” He gestured out the front window at the barely moving traffic.

“I imagine everyone else is being equally delayed,” Rin told the other man. A twinge of discomfort ran through him as he considered who the rest of said everyone else was.

“Captain Antonova’s detail reports that she and Mrs. Antonova are equally delayed,” the noncom confirmed. “Division Lord Casimir is on site. Speaking with her sisters, I believe.”

The thought of meeting Morgan Casimir’s sisters did not help with Rin’s comfort. He’d traded a few messages with the twins, Leah and Carol Bond, but he hadn’t encountered Morgan’s younger sisters.

The twins had a reputation in scholarly and political circles. Both held PhDs—Leah in political science, Carol in economics—from top-tier Imperial universities. Leah was the heir to the Duchy of Terra, and Carol was rarely far away from her sister.

Combined, they were their mother’s hatchet women—and multiple planetary leaders had ended up bruised and confused after assuming the pair of mid-twenties blondes were innocent, naïve or inexperienced.

“All of the Bonds are on site, according to the Militia details,” Rin’s escort told him. “That should make this easier, yes?”

Rin snorted.

“Not what I want to hear when meeting my girlfriend’s parents for the first time,” he told the Marine. “How many other people is the Duchess’s detail coordinating arrivals for?”

The driver chuckled.

“Including Captain Antonova and her wife, seven,” he noted. “And from the rumors that swirl around, Megan Bond is single, so I can’t even math it.”

Rin snorted. Somehow, the realization that he wasn’t going to be part of the only polycule at Christmas Eve dinner was reassuring.

Rin beat Victoria and Shelly Antonova to Pegasus Tower—known for thirty years now as the residence of the family of the Duchess of Terra, who had been slowly taking over more and more floors over those years—by about five minutes.

Morgan saw him enter the marble-clad lobby from across the room and immediately abandoned the pair of taller platinum-blonde women she’d been speaking with. The gazes of a dozen guards followed the Division Lord across the lobby as she jogged over to embrace him.

“Damn, it’s good to see you,” she told him. “Been too long.”

“I didn’t get called back to the Houses to give briefings on Infinite psychology and the likelihood they’d keep the peace,” he pointed out.

“No, you just spent a full long-cycle interrogating a brain the size of a planet about their worst enemies,” his lover told him—and then kissed him thoroughly to keep him from responding. “Anything interesting in that?”

“A lot,” he admitted. “Their perspective on everything is fascinating. The Infinite are going to make for intriguing partners.”

“Yeah, we’re talking about recruiting Cat-One bioforms to act as sentient shipboard communicators,” Morgan told him. “We’ll need to trust them a lot more than we do yet before we go that far, but it’s on the Navy’s mind.”

“I’m glad you got people to talk to them,” Rin said. “We’d have lost so much if we’d destroyed them. Or they’d destroyed us, but that seems more obvious.”

“They could easily have killed either or both of us,” she agreed. “But…we’re home now. We made peace.”

“Doesn’t seem to have hurt you,” Rin murmured. “No extra medals, though.”

“Making peace generally doesn’t get you medals,” Morgan said. “Just warm, fuzzy feelings and a lot of attention that should have gone to others.”

“Sir, Captain Antonova’s car is arriving,” a Marine interrupted.

“Good. We’re still waiting on Carol’s boyfriends, but I think I can take my cluster upstairs once the Antonovas are here,” Morgan told the guard.

“Is this as complicated and messy as it