Dark Space - Marianne de Pierres [3]
Though he was in later middle age, Franco retained all the physical qualities of a younger Latino male. His thickset body and heavy patrician features hinted at an irrepressible virility. Mira thought he looked more determined and assured than his son. He had certainly been a forceful leader—as had his ancestors—though she had never seen him in true performance mode before. She had not been invited to Franco and Jilda’s court for reasons of politics. When the Pellegrini familia left Latino Crux they had invited only those of their clan who supported the Machiavelli politic. Yet the Insignia Pilot familia that they so desperately needed to fly their ship were of the Castiglioni ideal. The Pellegrinis had ever since played a double-edged game of inclusion and exclusion with the Fedors. Fedors were necessary to them but they would never be given a chance to influence the court.
Mira’s sorella, Faja, had warned her of this when she had been preparing to attend the Studium. ‘And it is just as well, Mira,’ she said. ‘Court is a place for rapists and societal cannibals.’
At the time Mira had shrugged off Faja’s words as theatrical but her later acquaintance with the Silvios had added an uncomfortable flavour of meaning to them.
As Franco began to announce the list of successful baccalaureates, Mira’s stomach fluttered. Her feminine degree in Latino Studies, Orion Literature and Genera would be among them. What no one knew about, though, was the knowledge that she had carefully—secretly—acquired about the designs and functional procedures of air and space vehicles. The long nights of complete absorption learning about flight: a labour of love in voluntary preparation for the thing that she so desired.
‘Pilot First’ was a discrete decoration that would be bestowed at the end of the ceremony. Then she would be properly honoured. Pilot First would confer on her a vaunted, influential position and Cochetta Silvio and her brittle friends would dare not speak aloud their demeaning thoughts of her again.
Mira left her place and curtsied before the Principe to receive her Literature laurel, her expectation of what would come next leaving her deaf to the perfunctory applause of the audience.
Soon. Soon.
The Principe cleared his throat when he had finished. ‘Our history on Araldis is still only fleeting, a little over two hundred years, and in that time there have been only three pilots of Inborn Talent able to fly Insignia,’ he said.
Mira’s heartbeat quickened.
‘Each of those pilots was a descendant of the Fedor Barony as has been tradition from the very early days on the planets of Latino Crux. The Fedors were chosen for union by the biozoons after the First Exchange, an honour to be preserved for as long as their line existed. Accordingly they were bestowed with the Inborn gene.
‘Today is an auspicious moment in our history. Today the honour of Insignia Pilot will be transferred to a new line, as the Fedor birthright has come to an end with the Inborn gene falling to a woman. Throughout history, Orion’s finest geneticists have not been able to unlock the biozoons’ secret—but now there is a way: a way that will allow us to bring new blood to this remarkable skill. In preparation for this, Trinder Pellegrini will be our Insignia Pilot designate. Trinder, mio figlio, step forward to receive your honour.’
No! Was it her or Insignia who cried out in her mind? In the moment of uncertain silence before the applause, Mira Fedor lost her self-possession. She stumbled down from the dais and through the ante-room in front of the many eyes that narrowed in amusement and curiosity.
Her instinct to flee the Studium steered her through the Grandioso Foyer and out onto the mosaiced promenade. As she reached the edges of the Studium