The Gossamer Globe

The Gossamer Globe

by

Abbie Evans

Copyright © 2019 by Abbie Evans

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

For Katie

Chapter 1

When it was announced that Lucia Straw was the first ever Prime Minister of the great nation of Zatoria, she was diving across her bed to stop the fitted corner coming off for the seventh time. Bugger it, she thought. I’ll finish making my bed after my victory party.

She collapsed face down on the mattress just as Jevan burst into her bedchambers shouting The Queen is dead! Long live the Prime Minister! The Queen is de−

The Queen is not dead, Jevan, she’s living in a mansion up on Hokirua Hills with butlers for her poodles and her own personal cheesemaker. We decided against beheading her, remember.

She looked up. Diving across the bed, had, of course, only made the corner come off completely, but after the sixth time it had refused to stay put, she had rejected all manner of rational bed-making methods and taken a more drastic approach.

What are you doing up here anyway? Jevan asked. You missed the announcement. It was glorious. They went on and on about how you’re the total opposite of our wonderful Queen.

"Former Queen. We dethroned her. There was a Revolution and everything."

They said she was so regal, Jevan continued, plopping down on the bed. So graceful, so poised, so awe-inspiring. And you, just a commoner, a nobody, a poor starving child from the gutter.

I’m solidly middle-class, said Lucia, sitting up and readjusting her bodice. I have a mortgage. Her port buzzed from across the room.

Ooh, a telegram. Jevan’s face lit up. Want me to get that for you?

No, she said, a little too quickly.

He raised an eyebrow. Things on there you don’t want me to see, huh?

Absolutely.

And I thought you told me everything.

Only almost everything.

The cheering from downstairs grew louder. Her entire party was crammed into her solidly middle-class cottage watching election night unfold on the kinematic imager. Lucia had quietly withdrawn from the room right when the announcers were arguing over whether the infinite cheese wheel the Queen had been eating on the night the revolutionaries stormed the Palace belonged to the state now.

They were calling her name. Lucia, get back here! PRIME MINISTER, where are you!

Come on Prime Minister, you have a country to run. Jevan took her arm and pulled her off the bed. She grabbed her port on the way out, buzzing continuously now, and switched it off. Gathering up her skirts to run down the spiral staircase, she almost tripped over Butterfloogles, who paused from washing his paw to give her a disdainful look. Sorry Floogles, she said giving him a pat, you’ll get your spot on the sofa back as soon as they’re gone.

The cheering grew louder as she walked back in. Countless confetti-covered Sheppardor party members squidged into her living room, the air electric with excitement, ports going off everywhere, champagne corks popping. She scanned the crowd and put on her best Prime Ministerial smile while she waited for the din to subside. The kinematic imager mounted on the wall caught her eye as LANDSLIDE WIN FOR THE SHEPPARDOR PARTY flashed across the monitor.

LUCIA STRAW NATION’S FIRST PRIME MINISTER AFTER CENTURIES OF AUTHORITARIAN RULE

ABSOLUTE MONARCHY ABSOLUTELY ABOLISHED

SHOULD WE LET FORMER QUEEN KEEP HER CHEESE? EXPERTS WEIGH IN

The cheers were only growing louder, so Lucia put her hands up to quiet them. It took a few minutes, but eventually the boisterous crowd settled down. Serai, her PR manager, hurried over and offered her hand. Congratulations, Prime Minister, she said beaming. Then, uncertain, she did a little curtsey. Lucia laughed. There’s no curtseying in Zatoria anymore. The room erupted into cheers again. NO CURTSEYING, NO CURTSEYING!

Unless, Lucia continued, you want to be thrown into the dungeons. Everyone shut up and stared. One nervous titter came from somewhere in their midst.

Folks, I was kidding! Sorry, that was a bad joke. Relieved laughter. Lucia exhaled.

Patrik cautiously rose a hand. "Just to clarify, we get thrown into the dungeons if we do curtsey?"

Patrik, it was a joke.

I know, I just want to clarify the logic. Normally not curtseying or bowing would get us thrown into the dungeons. But you said no curtseying unless you want to be thrown into the dungeons. Which mea−

Look, no-one is getting thrown into the dungeons on the basis of whether or not they curtsey or bow.

Don’t be a gambolling gherkin Patrik, have a drink, yelled Jevan, causing another smattering of cheers to rise up.

It’s certainly time for champagne, said Serai, bringing Lucia a glass. And for a speech.

Serai continued round the room pouring champagne for the Sheppardors while chants of Speech! Speech! filled the air.

Thank you thank you, thank you everyone. Lucia raised her glass, waiting for the hubbub to die down again. Finally, she took a breath and opened her mouth: First of− she stopped and closed her mouth, as they were not yet finished with their hubbubbing, and exchanged a smile with Jevan.

First of all, she began again once the noise level reduced enough for her to be heard, I want to thank each and every one of you for the amazing work you have all put in these last few months. This is truly a historic moment. In the most turbulent time our country has ever seen, when we didn’t know what was going to happen, we barely knew how to form a party let alone a government, we had no map for the path ahead – we were like a Tangean tourist blundering about the streets of Awatere. We somehow managed to figure out how to run a successful campaign, how to draft policies, and whether beheading political opponents was frowned upon in a post-monarchist world.

The crowd politely chuckled. Patrik raised a hand, which Lucia pretended not to see.

But seriously, she continued, you all worked tirelessly to make this happen. We are now the ruling party of a truly wonderous country, a country that managed to pull off a relatively peaceful Revolution. We kept the sword fighting to a minimum, which is quite saying something for a country that holds the blade very dear to its heart. We threw barely any of the former aristocracy into the dungeons – though perhaps that was more out of compassion for the other prisoners. Imagine having to share a cell with one of those todgers.

The crowd laughed and cheered. We took the former Queen’s crown, we took her cheese, but we did not take her head. My victory tonight is your victory, it is the Sheppardor party’s victory, and above all, it is Zatoria’s victory. Let us all raise our glasses and drink to the future of Zatoria!

The noise grew louder than ever before as everyone toasted. Lucia began working her way through the party members to shake hands amidst the smiling, beaming, drinking, and cheering.

Patrik, she said, clinking glasses with her second-in-command. You may be too serious, but you keep me in check and that’s good. I feel we balance each other well. I want you to be my Deputy Prime Minister.

I am honoured, Prime Minister, he said, instinctually bowing, before quickly standing upright again. A look of concern crossed his face as though he had done the wrong thing, and he teetered forward again. Then he rethought that decision and stood back up.

Lucia had to clap a hand across her mouth to stop from laughing. Patrik, stop that, you look like a bobble head.

I am sorry Prime Minister, he said, adjusting his bowtie, but you know I like to abide by the rules, and they have all changed so much in recent months. He looked glum. I’ve had to completely reorganise all my files and folders.

Well, now we’re the ones who make the rules, she said brightly. And I say bowing is officially a relic of the past.

She continued around the room with a twirling skirt and dazzling smile, appointing various ministers as she went. Shoma would be Commander of the Guards of course, and Varielle would be Chancellor of the Treasury. Serai would stay on as her PR manager.

Allowing herself a break, she perched on the edge of the sofa and glanced up at the KI monitor. It was replaying highlights from the Prime Minister’s sword fight the week before, the black and white images jerkily reliving the duel between the two main contenders for Prime Minister in their best duelling gowns. She winced as it replayed the moment when Kailani Rhys, her political opponent, disarmed her and Lucia’s sword clattered across the floor. She watched herself scramble after it, but it was too late, Kailani stood over her pointing her sword at Lucia’s throat.

Ah, don’t worry, Luci, said Jevan, coming up and clapping a hand on her shoulder. It doesn’t matter that you lost the duel. It didn’t stop Zatorians from voting for you.

Why do they have to replay it over and over in slow motion though?

He squinted at the screen. I don’t think that’s slow motion. Just a jerky kinematic camera.

Lucia shook her head and took a sip of champagne. I swear it gets slower and zooms in closer each time. She turned to him. It’s not that I mind losing, particularly, but I worry Zatorians won’t truly accept a Prime Minister who doesn’t win her sword fights.

He nodded. They’d prefer it, of course, but they wouldn’t let that stop them voting for the best politician. A landslide win, Luci! You have nothing to worry about.

She smiled at him gratefully. Jevan, you will of course continue to be my assistant? I need you as my right-hand man. You’re my oldest friend and I trust you the most. You’ve kept my secrets for years. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. You never told anyone it was me who accidentally broke the ice cream dispenser in kindergarten.

How can you even ask. You know I’d do anything for you, he whispered back.

She squeezed his hand. Great, because I have another secret for you now.

Ooh, I love it. Tell me tell me! He leant down as she lowered her voice even more.

I am absolutely panicking about the fact they just put me in charge of the entire country.

He gave out a loud chuckle despite himself. It’s not like you not to be confident.

This isn’t like anything I’ve ever done before though.

Luci, he said, looking quite serious now. Did you not hear that speech you just gave, all the cheering for you? You’re a leader. You were made for this job. 63% of Zatorians certainly think so.

She took a moment to absorb their success. I can’t believe we got 63% of the vote.

They were interrupted by a tap on her shoulder. Lucia, it’s her, Serai said, holding out a port. An audio telegram from Kailani Rhys.

Lucia made a face. Bugger. I wish they hadn’t added audio capabilities to ports. What does she want?

To congratulate you, I assume.

A slow hush began to spread around the room as whispers of it’s Kailani rippled through the crowd. The room quietened and all the Sheppardors turned to look. Lucia took the port and stared at the name on the monitor.

She pressed the audio button. Kailani, good evening.

There was nothing but crackling silence. She exchanged a confused look with Serai.

The audio line quality is excellent, Serai assured her. I could make out at least one in three words.

…Kailani? More silence.

She looked up at Jevan and mouthed What do I do? He shrugged. Another few moments of silence. Everyone in the room had shut up completely, staring at the port.

Eventually, Lucia said this must be a bad line. If you can hear me, thank you for your telegram. I know this is new territory for all of us. You and your party were a worthy opponent in this election.

More silence.

You ran a great campaign, Kailani. And you have some great policies. Your party will have 18 seats in parliament, and as Leader of the Opposition I hope we’ll be able to work well together for the benefit of Zatoria.

Still, she said nothing.

Lucia shifted uncomfortably. Kailani, the voters have spoken, you have to respect that. Zatorians took to the voting booths today and made their decision. That was the point of the entire Revolution, of everything we’ve fought for. We’re a democracy now.

More silence. The atmosphere of Lucia’s crowded cottage living room was filled with the tension of dozens of people collectively holding their breath.

Finally, Kailani spoke:

I know you rigged the election.

Chapter 2

It’s not true, Lucia said, flinging the port away from her as though it were an explosive.

Of course it’s not, you would never do such a thing, Patrik assured her. That you would so flagrantly disregard the law is quite inconceivable.

She stared at him wide-eyed. I wouldn’t even know how to rig an election! You’d have to hack into the electronic voting system. I don’t know the first thing about hacking; I can barely navigate my port.

Varielle thought about it for a moment. There are only two ways you could hack into the electronic voting system, log into it or penetrate the gossamer shields.

And that’s not even possible, Serai quickly assured her. "It was developed by Zatoria’s best technologists and they made absolutely sure the shields could not be penetrated. And even if it were hacked, they’d be able to see it had been."

Shoma shook his head. I would’ve heard something about it from the guards if it were true. Kailani’s just a sore loser. This is really quite unprofessional of her. You know I always thought she was so proper and by-the-book.

A bit of a snob, actually, said Varielle. Everyone nodded in agreement, but Lucia felt no better.

Don’t worry Luci, said Jevan, putting his arm around her. This is your very first scandal, all leaders have them.

Oh yes, agreed Serai. Remember when everyone thought the King of Tangea was having an affair with a busty milkmaid, and it turned out she was teaching him how to knit sweaters for baby goats?

Varielle shook her head at the memory. "Quite scandalous. So unbecoming for the ruler of a war-faring nation."

And what of it, Jevan continued, if Luci’s first scandal happened mere minutes after becoming Prime Minister. I’m sure there will be many far more exciting scandals to come.

Thanks Jev, said Lucia with a weak smile. That makes me feel much better. She took a moment to calm herself. But it doesn’t matter that I’m innocent, going public with the accusation alone would be extremely damaging.

Surely she’d only go public or take it to the guards if she had proof, which she can’t have if you’re innocent, said Varielle.

Exactly, said Jevan. Come on Luci, don’t let impending political downfall ruin your evening, have a drink.

She nodded, and the Sheppardors clustered around her slowly dispersed as it became clear the excitement of the port telegram was over. Lucia took out her own port and stared uneasily at the anonymous telegram she had received earlier that evening. She grabbed Jevan’s sleeve as he, too, turned to go and pulled him back. Jev, I think I’ve been set up. I think Kailani and the former Queen are working together to bring me down.

He looked at her in astonishment. That doesn’t make any sense. She’s a revolutionary. The Queen hates her.

Lucia shook her head. They worked together for ten years. Plenty of time to become steadfast allies. They’re up to something, I know it. She pulled him aside and they cornered themselves away from the main throng with their heads together, talking in low whispers while the party went on around them.

The evening continued, though the celebratory atmosphere of earlier was somewhat subdued. All the Sheppardors kept a nervous eye on their ports waiting for that fateful telegram from reporters, or a summons to the court by the guards, or perhaps even something from the Revolutionary Council disbanding their party.

It belongs to the state, Patrik was saying on the other side of the room. Valued at 7,000 Zatorian crowns. That’s tax payer money that could go to impoverished children.

It’s cruel and inhumane punishment, Varielle replied. You can’t take a woman’s cheese from her. She sipped her wine and glared at him for a moment before noticing Lucia had rejoined the party. Isn’t that right Lucia? she said, pulling her into the conversation.

Hmm? Lucia replied, her mind elsewhere.

The Queen’s cheese, Varielle said. We’re discussing the ethics of cheese deprivation.

"Former Queen, Lucia said. And it belongs to the state, so it’s not her cheese."

If it’s infinite cheese, said Patrik, surely there is enough for everybody.

I don’t think so, said Lucia. I’ve heard it replenishes itself very slowly.

She continued to go through the motions dreading the moment the guards banged on her door. But the moment never came. Nothing more from Kailani, nothing from her party, and the only telegrams that came through everyone’s ports that night were messages of congratulations. The feeling of imminent doom gradually subsided and she found herself able to breathe again.

Her mind turned to the ceremony tomorrow. Her acceptance speech, her statements for reporters, officially appointing her ministers. There was so much work to be done, and she tried not to let it overwhelm her.

A sudden scream interrupted her thoughts. JEVAN. You’re hurt! Lucia turned in surprise, realising he’d been absent too long. Serai had caught him sneaking in the back door. Now she pulled him into the living room demanding to know what he’d gotten himself into this time.

He staggered in behind her looking rather worse for wear. Bruises, scratches, his shirt was torn, and there was a blood stain in the fabric that seemed to be expanding. A crowd formed around him quickly and Lucia hurried over and pushed through it. What in the world happened?

Oh it’s nothing, nothing, just a wee sword fight, he said, collapsing onto a chair.

You’re bleeding. Someone fetch medical supplies, Lucia ordered.

Serai stared at him full of worry. Where have you been? Who did you duel with?

He looked at Lucia. I may have paid Kailani a visit.

There was a hushed silence. The Sheppardors took a step back, stared once more at the blood dripping off him, and looked at each other in alarm. A heavy pause lingered, then Shoma said what they were all thinking. "Did …did you kill her?" he whispered.

Varielle looked quite dismayed. You bollocking bean! Lucia was only joking about the beheading thing.

Patrik was particularly aghast. "You can’t kill our