No, they couldn’t send her away, she reasoned later. She had not even been allowed to leave the palace once in her life. Nor her or Annie. Her sister looked cross each time someone spoke of travelling for vacation, as she was the one to sacrifice the most to keep up appearances. If it was necessary for Daphne and Greg to travel, both were left under Bertaliz’s care, but Annie and Bridget never did.

When she opened the secret door, Bridget found Daphne Britter focused in her reading. To her, her foster mother looked like an ethereal marble statue wrapped in satin; it was her floor-length skirt and her bright jade green hair. She walked in slowly, mentally prepared for the scolding she would get, but it never came. Daphne glanced at her without a word and went back to her reading on her screen.

“I’m sorry, mom, I wasn’t feeling well this morning,” she lied.

This time Daphne did not lift her eyes, but her silence screamed that she disapproved of not being told, at least, of her whereabouts, and of course that made her feel worse than if she had been scolded.

“Is Annie home?”

Without altering her posture, Daphne pointed at the door on the left; she sighed when she saw her enter the room. Again she had not had the courage to correct her. She loved her more than she should, her stomach shrank from worry each time she was late or had a new bruise.

Although the ultimate responsibility for her education did not lay on her, she thought she ought to adopt a more active role in it. In many ways the Princess already behaved with exceptional maturity, but she was still a teenager and, as such, prone to outbursts, mood swings and the occasional mistaken decision… She would feel better when she had nothing to report to the Queen about her, except that she had a wonderful daughter.

Being her fake mother had been a heavy burden. The first two cycles she had cried every night, remembering her own baby girl, dead a few weeks before carrying to term. The next six or seven she spent fighting her own nature, to avoid falling into the trap of believing the girl her own. As soon as the girl could walk she distanced herself from her by putting her in her nana Bertaliz’s care, and limiting their meetings in public. Why? She did not know, maybe another defense mechanism. But there was still time to redeem herself.

***

Annie was not at her desk, but she had left the electronic board on it, where she had been drafting an essay. She had crossed out three titles and the fourth was just as bad as the previous ones:

Laws regulating capabilities of robots, androids, artificial intelligence and their relation to the movement of “The Natural”.

Below, it read:

Machines should not learn, ethics cannot be taught to a silicon neural network without feelings. Machines exist to facilitate certain tasks.

It was a trending topic: the followers of this philosophical current declared themselves against all artificial forms of mimicking thought. Their struggle to limit the capabilities of information processors had led to a set of laws that banned their reasoning and autonomy. Therefore, they had no place in planetary defense systems, their use in automatic transport was questioned, and their application in medicine condemned. At least in Eloah the ancient AutoDocs had been taken apart for recycling.

The more orthodox naturalists, with their fixation on the artificial, also rejected from synthetic products to reproduction outside of consensual sexual relations. While they did not go against medical science in general, they disapproved of cosmetic surgeries. To Bridget they were no more than consummate hypocrites.

“Where have you been, Brid?” Annie asked her, stepping out of the bathroom.

With a finger, Bridget pointed upstairs.

“Sorry. I should have said I wasn’t coming. I was feeling a little odd, as if I were getting sick.”

“Now you see I was right.” Annie raised an eyebrow haughtily.

“Yes,” sighed Bridget. “Swimming wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

She said it to avoid arguing with Annie, who always had the same opinion about the impulsive escapades, and preferred to miss out on the fun if they involved risk or rule breaking. “There isn’t enough time, Brid, you are going to be late. Besides, the weather is changing, you’ll get sick,” she had said. It was the first and only time her prediction had come true, and now she felt infallible.

“What was class about?” she asked, as she sat down on a couch.

“Ethics. The controversial case of the Mortos.”

Annie went to open her wardrobe. She stood before it with her hands on her hips, eyeing the different options.

“Those that attacked the settlers in Ashai?” Bridget asked.

“Those were the Moriwhs. The Mortos were the ones we rescued because their planet was going to be razed by a planetoid crash.”

“The ones that lived for a while in Eloah.”

“And then we cast them out for all the trouble they caused.”

“What about them?”

“We discussed about the morality behind staying put and observe the law, or break it to save them.”

“With the added difficulty of knowing how violent their species is.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“And?”

“Nothing. It was basically a recreation of the trial the Galactic Community brought against Eloah when we helped them. The professor quoted the law that states that if a civilization has not reached the technological means to travel to other worlds on their own, they are not ready to establish ‘contact’, and let us discuss.”

“Aha,” said Bridget, urging her to continue.

Annie took several dresses to the mirror and started trying them out.

“Elisa Bandier said that our mistake was understandable, seeing how the Eloahn civilization was immature and primitive, like the Earth’s forty thousand years ago.”

“Oh no…” Bridget was surprised at the human’s audacity for saying that before half a dozen Eloahns. “I would have liked to see that.”

“No doubt. Paty shut her up.”

“Really? What did she say?”

“That, at least, Eloah’s intrusion in the Mortos’ cuture was a humanitarian act, whereas human interference in Eloah was stupid on their part. If they were forty thousand years more advanced, their failure was forty thousand times more dishonorable.”

“Goddess!” Bridget burst out laughing.

“As you can imagine, Elisa turned a thousand colors.”

“Not without reason.”

Despite the law that did not allow any kind of interaction with civilizations in progress, humans had accidentally crashed a spaceship on Eloahn soil way before Eloah had developed the first flying vehicle… and before thousands of witnesses!

It was probably because of that early intervention, on the delicate historical moment when it happened (coinciding with the overthrowing of the ancient empire), or due to over two thousand beltas of coexistence with humans, that Eloah had so much in common with them. Names were evidence of that, especially the ones of those born north of the mountain range of Arguell. Thanks to them, or because of them, Eloah was an anomaly; a developing planet with access to technological artifacts beyond their dreams.

“And it was mentioned,” Annie added, “that for being so far behind, we are thousands of times more aware of our environment, and we would never repeat the damage that humans inflicted on their mother planet.”

Bridget gazed at her sister, dazzling embodiment of mythical, green haired beauty. Annie was a belta older than her, taller by half a head, and bragged about it. When she wanted to appear older and justify her premature interest in boys, she used the year equivalent: fourteen, she would say with self sufficiency. Of course, she would also use her curvy form to convince their coach of letting her skip practice when she felt like it. Lately she worried so much about her looks that she couldn’t stand a hair out of place, sweat or getting her hair wet while swimming, and spent hours choosing her clothes or perfecting her makeup. It was annoying for Bridget, watching Annie hold dress after dress over her clothes to compare them in the mirror, especially if she was in a hurry. Or hungry.

“Are you going to wear one of those? We have practice,” she protested irritated, pointing at the robe that covered her sportswear.

“What’s the hurry?”

What is? I’m starving.

Annie threw two dresses on the bed.

“I was hoping I’d have time to eat something. I’ll faint,” whimpered Bridget with a hand on her belly. However, her stomach did not support her pleas with a groan.

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Annie held another dress over her clothes. “Besides, it’s not my fault that you haven’t eaten. I didn’t hold you back in the royal quarters all this time, did I?”

“No,” she admitted with a snort.

“And about the dresses, later I’m going to… bah!”

With a haughty gesture she let go of the last dress and went looking for her sportswear.

Bridget rolled her eyes. She loved her very much, but sometimes she could be a real pain… Annie was a professional slacker. Bridget could not be idle. She would swim, read, ride a unicorn… even a game of chess was a better way of spending her free time. Her looks were important, sure, without exaggerating.

“You’re not leaving your dresses there, are you?”

“Dana can put them away later.”

“Argh, you’re incorrigible,” she protested, putting them away herself.

Had the court not witnessed Daphne’s pregnancy and being rushed to the medical center, to emerge from it with a baby girl (not her daughter, but a three-day old newborn and heir to the crown), or because her foster father had a similar hair color to Bridget’s, people would not believe they were sisters.

Although, what siblings looked the same? Not even twins.

“Nevermind, take your time,” said Bridget dejectedly. “I doubt the kitchen will be open at this hour, anyway. I liked the copper one, with the bow on the back, is it new?”

Annie’s mood did not improve. Bridget suspected she had touched a nerve, and changed the subject before it got worse.

“So we’re supposed to write an essay on ‘bots’ for homework?”

Annie shook her head. She stepped closer to the desk, grabbed her ProCom, and traced an imaginary line from the plasma board to the device to save her work.

“William gave out individual subjects. He was furious,” she stressed, not bothering to hide her displeasure.

“That much?”

So far neither Christian or Daphne had told her off for skipping afternoon class; she thought the privilege was probably reserved for William.

“You be the judge. He left you extra work and even changed the debate teams. Now I’m with Paty and Tiffany.”

“That means I’m…”

Annie nodded and slammed a drawer.

“Pluck me!” cried Bridget.

She had been partnered with the most inept, lazy and boastful girls in class, Elisa Bandier among them. That newcomer still had to be reminded that a belta was equal to one point six standard years, or which was the correct hallway to access the Guest Tower. And she still had enough ego left to be condescending!

“I won’t do it again, I promise,” mumbled Bridget. Skipping class had turned out to be counterproductive. Now Annie, Paty and Tiffany (her sister, her best friend and the best in class, respectively) were her opponents. She slowly released a breath, and said, “What subject did our beloved professor William choose for me?”

“Easy. The origin of Common and the importance of interplanetary communication to avoid dialects. Speaking of the ansible should be enough. It’s the other assignment you should be worried about.”

“Ok. Say it.” Bridget heard voices in the living room and stepped closer to the door. “Wait, dad’s here.”

He did not sound happy. Greg Dufa’s booming voice sounded worried.

“Did you hear about Christian?”

“I heard there was an argument behind closed doors in the chamber of the Twelve Wise. Alaissa left upset, and the King angry. Not to mention William, he was enraged.”

“He left the planet, mywind,” her ‘father’ explained. Bridget loved how Daphne and Greg used that contraction for ‘my wind’ to express their love, since coincidentally her real parents also used it.

“Christian?” repeated Dephne in disbelief.

“Yes. I don’t know what they’re up to, but I don’t think he’s coming back. This is unthinkable, he was the Main Counselor.”

“Did you find out who is taking his place?” Daphne asked.

“As head of the council? William, of course, and Vaniah Black will fill the empty seat.”

“The King’s sister? Well, that was to be expected.”

Bridget flinched when she felt Annie’s hand on her shoulder.

“We should not be eavesdropping!” she scolded her softly.

But even if Bridget had wanted to keep listening, by the sound of their fading footsteps, Daphne and Greg were taking their discussion somewhere else.

The sound of her mentor’s name left her thinking about his sudden trip and his incomprehensible goodbye. She was sincerely sorry about his departure. Had she been able to choose between Christian and William, she would have gone for the first one. Although physically they looked the same, Christian was happy and understanding, while his twin was inflexible and irritable. Another set of siblings that were opposites. As for Vaniah, her aunt, she only knew her through holograms, for she had not even visited the planet for her grandmother, Danielle Andryl’s funeral.

Bridget turned back to Annie.

“You were telling me about the extra assignment?”

“I think it’s a warning of some kind. It’s about your family, with emphasis on your parents and what they do for a living. Three thousand words, and you will read it in front of the class.”

“What?” Her voice was two octaves higher.

“What do I know?”

So I never forget my place, eh?

While Annie tied her sneakers, Bridget borrowed her ProCom and wrote:

My name is Bridget Britter. My mother is Daphne Britter, the Queen’s lady-in-waiting; she keeps her company and travels with her. She likes reading, and attending concerts and parties. Someday she will inherit the dukedom with her name from her mother. My father, Greg Dufa, works in the Ministry of Finance as Vice Minister of Exterior Commerce. He promotes foreign investment in Eloah and the exportation of our local products. His job consists in negotiating; the cash flow depends largely on him. My sister is Annet Britter, the prettiest, most flirtatious and spoiled girl in the planet, a princess.

Ninety-eight words, she thought. How am I supposed to write three thousand?

She deleted everything she had typed wondering why, if she loved them so much, she knew too little about them to properly finish her assignment. Had she been asked for a hundred pages on the Queen she would not have had so much trouble, would she? She tried:

My name is Bridget Michelle Andryl, the last one in the long line of the Andryl matriarchy, from Bonniet Andryl to my mother, Alaissa, from whom I get my last name and who is Queen of Eloah and its natural satellites, Midas and Parsos. My father is Jhon Black, King of Eloah, chosen by the Queen at her coming of age as stated by our Law, among the twelve candidates chosen by the Assembly of Representatives of Eloah. My mother is an example of kindness, justice and gentleness. I visit her everyday and she never stops impressing me with her advice, even though sometimes I…

“We’re leaving,” announced Annie, leading the way to the door.

“Wait.” Bridget could not leave behind such evidence in her sister’s ProCom. She erased the revealing text and ran after her.

Hours later, with William’s visit to her room, the wait for the feared lecture ended, and so did the mystery about what was going to be done to her. Or so she thought.