Resistance: Hathe Book One Read Free Page B

don’t dawdle, and call me Agnethe. Everyone
else does.”
    Marthe
followed her obediently, attempting to make sense of the maze of
intersecting corridors and halls. Soon they passed into a new area
and through a security door that was bland enough in appearance,
but harsh experience had left her with a wary sixth sense for such
entrances. It hit her now, the hidden surveillance screens setting
off a fine humming throughout her body.
    Beyond
it, the building changed. The corridors widened and the feeling of
being in a prison was no longer present. This must be the Terrans’
accommodation quarters.
    “ Major Radcliff’s rooms are along here,” said Agnethe, waving
to a doorway. “A word of warning. The Terran may be only a major,
but watch him. He’s the head of Special Services and from a
powerful Earth family, I am told. He is also, I might add, very
particular over the state of his room and will bawl you out
properly if your work is not up to standard; but please him and
he’s been known to be extraordinarily kind. Especially to a young
lady like you,” added Agnethe with a chuckle. Then she became
serious again. “One thing more. He speaks Harmish, though Mathe
knows why he ever bothered with learning it. He’s a strange one, he
is—very keen on asking questions, so you be careful.”
    She
threw open a door as she finished speaking, ushering Marthe into a
service cupboard. Then the woman opened the door on the far side of
the small room and Marthe entered a whole new world. They were in
an apartment, but this was like no place she had seen in all the
long and miserable years since the Terrans first landed. This place
was beautiful, filled with light, air and comfort. She could only
stand and gape, taking it all in. The bare plans of the Citadel she
had seen gave no hint of this reality.
    A
profusion of plants graced the room in front of her, particularly
on the small balcony at the far end and, beyond it, she could see
the second of the Citadel’s great courtyards. It was as unlike the
barren oppression of the first yard as the character of the girl
Riarda was to her own true nature. She walked forward as if in a
daze, needing to see more of this miracle. The courtyard flourished
with trees and flowers in kaleidoscopic abundance. The sound of
water played from numerous fountains and shaded walks meandered
through garden beds.
    Agnethe’s voice broke into the girl’s bemused entrancement,
following close behind her. “It may look lovely, but remember we
cannot appreciate it. We lack the quality of taste, so I’m told,”
she warned dryly. “Staff enter through the service door
only.”
    She
went on to explain Marthe’s duties, leading her through the elegant
rooms. Marthe was silent, a properly cowed and frightened detainee.
At one point only did she interrupt. They were entering the
bedroom, Agnethe instructing her in the precise ordering of the
room, when Marthe happened to glance up. She gasped, eyes opening
wide in recognition. Agnethe looked across sharply then saw what
had startled her. Above the sleeper hung a painting of a house, a
very beautiful house. It was not a Terran house. Agnethe had seen
Marthe’s shocked recognition. The older woman’s hand came down on
her shoulder, to all intents guiding her fussily onwards. In
reality, the fingers bit into her skin. Marthe acknowledged the
warning with a humble downcasting of eyes.
    “ A
pretty enough picture,” remarked Agnethe. “One of the filthy
Lieger’s City houses. The Major has an interest in such relics,
though why he keeps this particular one here is beyond
me.”
    She
guided Marthe onwards, talking of duties again. Marthe listened
with but half an ear and could not stop herself from giving the
painting a last, quick glance as she left the bedroom. She had
recognized the house of a certainty, every single, wondrous line of
it. Her warning hum was back and at full magnitude.
    It was
with a sense of relief that she followed Agnethe back