Tsar Wars: Agents of ISIS, Book 1 (27 page)

The major officers of the ships that had
bombed civilian populations were executed as well. In all, over
four hundred executions resulted from what became known as the
“Pretender’s Rebellion,” and close to three thousand people were
exiled to Gulag—one of the greatest population influxes in its
history.

* * *

Judah and Eva stayed on Earth for a week
after the Sovyet Knyazey. Nkosi Wettig put them up in special
quarters within the Orion Hall of State. Neither had been to Earth
before, and took this opportunity to do all the corny tourist
things around Moscow. Eva also took the chance to put the “good
behavior” of the past few weeks well behind her; she seldom
returned to their lodgings before nine in the morning—and for once,
Judah refused to worry about her.

But after a week they started getting itchy.
The longest breaks they ever had were when they were “on the road,”
traveling with the Ville between worlds, and even then they
practiced, worked out new routines and helped out their fellow
performers where needed. Not having something specific to anchor
their lives to was surprisingly tiring. Even Eva’s gadding about
began to feel hollow; taking a break from doing nothing wasn’t
nearly as relaxing.

Six days after the Sovyet Knyazey, Judah and
Eva were called in to the office of Nkosi Wettig. As they entered
the large room, they froze at the sight of Tsaritsa Natalia sitting
in a comfortable chair facing the door. They hadn’t seen her since
that day, and were amazed at the changes a single week had
produced. She no longer looked like a deer caught in the
headlights; her face was the picture of serenity and self-control.
She looked as though she’d matured three years in those few days,
but she still smiled warmly when she saw them.

Eva recovered her equilibrium first. “Being
tsaritsa agrees with you, sis.”

Natalia’s smile never wavered. “I shouldn’t
have worried you’d become all shy and formal.”

“Not a chance,” Eva said. “Not in private, at
least. I had too much fun being the level-headed bitch.”

Judah, though, was still somewhat reserved.
“I hope your life has settled down into a happier routine.”

Natalia made a sour face. “People have gone
back to curtsying and bowing. They speak in careful, reverent
tones. I almost miss being on the run for my life.”

“Really?” Judah asked.

Natalia laughed. “Of course not. It’s
wonderful to be pampered—only now I can appreciate it, having had
to live without it.”

“I’ve watched you in the news,” Eva said.
“People didn’t really know you before, but after almost losing
you—and seeing the alternative—they really adore you now. Seems
like the press is following you everywhere.”

“Even into the bathroom, if I’d let them,”
Natalia said with a pretend grimace. “But you know all about what
I’ve been doing from the newscasts. What about you two? Are you
enjoying Earth?”

Judah told her all about their sightseeing,
and Eva gave a brief, highly bowdlerized version of her own
adventures. The tsaritsa listened politely and did not interrupt,
but Eva noticed her eyes were not completely focused on the
here-and-now. Eventually she called her on it. “You didn’t come
here to hear about our visits to tourist traps. What’s really on
your mind?”

Natalia was still young enough to blush.
“Sorry. You caught me. I was practicing my ‘pretend to be
interested’ look. My teachers tell me I’ll need it a lot when I
visit dairy farms and launch battleships. No, although I did want
to see you again, I came here because Nkosi invited me. He has a
favor to ask you.”

For the first time since the Bar Nahums
entered the office, the new Commissar of ISIS spoke up. “I wanted
to thank you both again for the wonderful jobs you did on behalf of
the Empire. You’re both untrained and neither of you worked in an
approved manner—but then I brought you on board because I was tired
of by-the-book workers, so I have only myself to blame for that.
Neither of you is temperamentally suited to the day-in, day-out
drudgery of the ordinary assignments most ISIS agents have to
do—but you each have unique approaches that my other people lack. I
want you both to get some intensive training in ISIS techniques and
then hire you on full-time as my personal field representatives.
Trouble-shooters, if you will. What do you say?”

Judah’s eyes lit up. “Hell yes…uh, begging
your pardon, Your Majesty. Except for the parts where I was scared
to death, this was almost as much fun as dancing. I’d love—” He
stopped suddenly and looked over at Eva. “Uh, that is, if my
partner agrees. It’s not fair to her to break up the act.”

Natalia looked over at Eva. “Yes, I’ve been
told you didn’t really want the job of saving my life.”

Eva had the decency to look abashed. “Well,
everyone’s entitled to one mistake. It was nothing personal.”

“Yes, about that … I’ve looked up ‘tsouris.’
It is
not
a Greek word for sweet.”

“Whoever said it was?”Judah asked.

“A tsaritsa who remembers, who reads, and who
looks things up,” Eva said. “I think we’re all going to be in
trouble.” She paused. “Look, if it’s any consolation, I’m delighted
I was wrong about the assignment. But as a full-time career … well,
I really do love dancing.”

“And other things,” Judah muttered, barely
audible.

“I’m afraid you have no choice,” Natalia
said. Her voice and face grew very stern. “Eva Sarah Bar Nahum, you
are hereby charged with multiple counts of assaulting my royal
person, misappropriation of royal property, grand theft, and
innumerable insults upon the royal dignity—not to mention
kidnapping of civilians and destruction of property. I have
witnessed all these crimes personally. How do you plead?”

Eva knelt on one knee. Her voice was equally
sober. “Guilty, Your Majesty. I do claim exigent
circumstances—”

“Silence!” the tsaritsa commanded. “The
assaults on me alone are treason, subject to capital punishment. I
have no choice but to sentence you accordingly. You are hereby
condemned to ten years of hard labor at the discretion of the
Commissar of ISIS.”

Eva hung her head. “As Your Majesty
commands.”

“I’m sorry,” Natalia said more gently. “I’d
rather keep you on in the palace as my personal dance instructor,
but I admit I’ll feel a lot safer if you’re out in the field,
protecting the Empire.”

“Well, at least
one
of us will feel
safer,” Eva said in a mock growl.

The tsaritsa hesitated. “There’s one more
thing I’ve been curious about, and I can’t just look it up in a
reference book. I was hoping the two of you could help.”

“If we can, Your Majesty,” Judah said.

Looking particularly at Eva, Natalia said,
“Whenever I was tired or discouraged, you’d prod me on by saying,
‘The show must go on.’ I know that’s an old show business
expression, but I keep wondering why? Why must the show go on in
the face of insurmountable obstacles? Why?”

Judah looked as though she’d whacked him
between the eyes with a baseball bat. It was an expression he’d
heard all his life growing up in the Ville. It was part of every
atom in his body, infused deeply into his soul. It was like asking
a fish why it swam—because anything else would be
inconceivable.

But Eva had no such problem. “That’s simple,”
she said with a smile. “The show must go on because the show is
Life—and Life must go on.”

Read the entire
Agents of ISIS
series
by Stephen Goldin:

1: TSAR WARS

2: TREACHEROUS MOON

3: ROBOT MOUNTAIN

4: SANCTUARY PLANET

5: STELLAR REVOLUTION

6: PURGATORY PLOT

7: TRAITORS’ WORLD

8: COUNTERFEIT STARS

9: OUTWORLD INVADERS

10: GALACTIC COLLAPSE

For more details, visit Parsina Press at
http://parsina.com/isis.html
.

Read more about the author at his Website,
http://stephengoldin.com/
.