Beauty and the Beaast

Etaan: Highest Son

“Ah, there you are, Etaan. How went the invasion? Pretty exciting, eh?” The short, pale little Atiniaan on the viewport before him looked much older than Etaan remembered. Heavy lines creased his green face and his hair was all but gone. Only a few sprigs of white sprouted from the top.

“Highest Father,” he greeted as etiquette dictated, his displeasure barely masked. “It was rather easy since Haarkin decided to deploy the Deadlock missiles. At what point were you planning on telling me that our mission was not a peaceful one?”

Silence rang loudly in the hospital lounge that was temporarily being used as a headquarters. He glanced at the other members of his team. They avoided his gaze, staring intently at the white walls. At least his father had the decency to look a little ashamed, although he bet it wasn’t for the reasons it should have been.

“You were told what you needed to know.”

“So, lies, then.”

His father’s eyes narrowed into tiny gleaming dots. “Yes,” he said matter-of-factly. “I knew you would never agree to lead an invasion.”

“Because it’s barbaric.”

“The Zirrlen do it all the time.”

“We are not the Zirrlen.”

The old king sighed and slumped back into his throne with his eyes closing. “Even the gods don’t stand on such high standards of morality as you. Goraan the Greater invaded a hundred planets such as this and he is among the most worshipped. We are merely following his path.”

Etaan clenched his jaw. His desire to verbally bash this, his least favorite of the accursed gods, tempted him, but he knew that would be unwise. His father may be on another planet, but his arm was long. No need to make an enemy of the only person who could grant him what he needed. Instead, he forced a smile and said with as much reverence as he could muster, “As you say, Highest Father. Who am I to question the gods?”

This brought a benevolent smile to his father’s face. “Good! I knew you’d come around eventually. Although I hadn’t dared to hope it would be this quickly.” A fit of coughing racked the old Atiniaan’s body, blood dribbling between his teeth and down his chin. It was then it hit Etaan just how old his father looked.

For a moment he forgot etiquette. “Father, are you alright?”

A young hand appeared from off-screen and patted the blood away with a handkerchief. His father took a deep, rattling breath, his face blue with the effort. “Etaan, you’ve been gone several kaarta. Your father is an old man, in his last stages of this body.”

Anguished, he barely managed to keep from crying out.

The king chuckled. “Don’t look so upset. I shall soon be reborn and, when once we see each other again, I will be even more handsome than you are.”

“But you won’t be the same.”

“The scientists assure me they’ve finally perfected the memory transference procedure.” A triumphant smile covered the old face. “I’ll be the first to keep memories from two lives. Just think what I could do with all that knowledge!”

What a terrifying thought.

“But just in case… in case….” Etaan swallowed down the tightness in his throat. “Will you grant me your blessing?”

With an exasperated sigh, his father said, “Alright. You have it. Rule with power, my son.”

The screen blipped off.

For a while he just stood there, staring at the dark screen.

“We’ve lost transmission, sir.”

Starting, he looked up at his communications expert. The young man looked worried as though he might be losing his sanity. “I know, Kaaz. I was just… thinking.”

He straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Well… I guess we’d better get started. Open all frequencies. I want everyone to hear my first declaration as ruling prince.”

The five other men in the room snapped to attention, backs ramrod straight and eyes fixed straight ahead. With one voice, they chanted, “Hail, Highest Son!”