Read Online Emperor's Edge Republic by Lindsay Buroker - Free Book Online
Authors: Lindsay Buroker
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of the remaining leaders of the disbanded business coalition responsible for so much of the trouble in the capital of late. The donation had been less about charity and more about ingratiating oneself to the new president. That seemed to be everyone’s agenda when interacting with Rias.
In contrast with the crisp evening air outside, the basement had the humidity of a greenhouse. Pipes knocked and hissed, and raucous laughs and cheers came from down a hallway marked Gentlemen’s Gymnasium. Tikaya had been in the smaller Women’s Gymnasium a few times, though she hadn’t found many women in it to exercise—or socialize—with. Even in this reformed Turgonian government, the majority of posts were filled by stodgy military men, with the exception of the treasury and economics branches, where more women had run for office. Rias had rejected her suggestion that he take on a female vice president, choosing instead the man who had been the runner up in the election. Dasal Serpitivich was pleasant enough, and Tikaya understood making choices to appease the populace, but thought Rias had missed an opportunity to initiate real change.
“Incremental changes, love,” he had said. “We’re already bending the blades of brittle old swords.”
Tikaya walked down the dim hallway toward the laughs. Doors to either side had labels such as Steam, Heat, and Structure Manipulation, leaving one to wonder if the rooms were for bath-related activities or for repairing one’s steam carriage.
A door opened, emitting a cloud of vapor and a man with a towel draped over his shoulder and nothing else. He turned toward her, but halted with an ungainly stumble.
“My lady,” he blurted, sweeping the towel down to cover himself. “This is the men’s gymnasium.”
“Yes, I know. I’m looking for a man. My husband, specifically. Have you seen him?” The man—a military intelligence officer she vaguely remembered as a chief of somebody’s affairs... Kendorian, maybe—shrugged. “Yes. No. I mean, you’re not supposed to be in here, my lady.”
“Half of the public baths in the city are mixed gender,” Tikaya pointed out.
“Yes, but not the lodges .”
Ah, she had scrambled up into his girls-not-allowed tree fort. Too bad. “My husband? Is he here, or not?”
The man stepped aside and pointed toward the end of the hall. “I believe he’s meeting with the heads of our department in the Rings.”
“Thank you.”
Tikaya strode down the hall, passing a few other nude men, some who appeared scandalized by her presence, some who smirked and bowed, and others who merely gave her the same polite, professional, “Evening, my lady” that they would when fully dressed and passing in the halls upstairs.
The laughs, she soon learned, were coming from the Rings portion of the basement. Here, the space hadn’t been divided into smaller rooms. The entire end of the building lay open, the cement walls bare with exposed pipes running along the ceiling. A handful of circles of various sizes had been painted on the floor, and a bunch of men, some in exercise togs and others in nothing, were gathered around the closest one. The sound of flesh smacking against flesh rang out more than once, and a bevy of jeers and catcalls erupted from the onlookers.
Tikaya had no more than started toward the ring when spectators leaped aside so a familiar bare-chested man could skid out of the boundaries on his back, a wince on his face.
She stopped at the gray-haired head and peered down. “Good evening, love.”
President Sashka Federias Starcrest blinked a few times before focusing on her. “Why, good evening. Do you... need me?” From flat on his back, he gazed about at the manly decor, such as it was, as if he couldn’t believe there might be another reason she would have stepped foot down here.
“Is it my imagination, or do you sound hopeful that I do?” Tikaya asked.
“Yes. This meeting is proving painful. In more ways than one.” Rias
In contrast with the crisp evening air outside, the basement had the humidity of a greenhouse. Pipes knocked and hissed, and raucous laughs and cheers came from down a hallway marked Gentlemen’s Gymnasium. Tikaya had been in the smaller Women’s Gymnasium a few times, though she hadn’t found many women in it to exercise—or socialize—with. Even in this reformed Turgonian government, the majority of posts were filled by stodgy military men, with the exception of the treasury and economics branches, where more women had run for office. Rias had rejected her suggestion that he take on a female vice president, choosing instead the man who had been the runner up in the election. Dasal Serpitivich was pleasant enough, and Tikaya understood making choices to appease the populace, but thought Rias had missed an opportunity to initiate real change.
“Incremental changes, love,” he had said. “We’re already bending the blades of brittle old swords.”
Tikaya walked down the dim hallway toward the laughs. Doors to either side had labels such as Steam, Heat, and Structure Manipulation, leaving one to wonder if the rooms were for bath-related activities or for repairing one’s steam carriage.
A door opened, emitting a cloud of vapor and a man with a towel draped over his shoulder and nothing else. He turned toward her, but halted with an ungainly stumble.
“My lady,” he blurted, sweeping the towel down to cover himself. “This is the men’s gymnasium.”
“Yes, I know. I’m looking for a man. My husband, specifically. Have you seen him?” The man—a military intelligence officer she vaguely remembered as a chief of somebody’s affairs... Kendorian, maybe—shrugged. “Yes. No. I mean, you’re not supposed to be in here, my lady.”
“Half of the public baths in the city are mixed gender,” Tikaya pointed out.
“Yes, but not the lodges .”
Ah, she had scrambled up into his girls-not-allowed tree fort. Too bad. “My husband? Is he here, or not?”
The man stepped aside and pointed toward the end of the hall. “I believe he’s meeting with the heads of our department in the Rings.”
“Thank you.”
Tikaya strode down the hall, passing a few other nude men, some who appeared scandalized by her presence, some who smirked and bowed, and others who merely gave her the same polite, professional, “Evening, my lady” that they would when fully dressed and passing in the halls upstairs.
The laughs, she soon learned, were coming from the Rings portion of the basement. Here, the space hadn’t been divided into smaller rooms. The entire end of the building lay open, the cement walls bare with exposed pipes running along the ceiling. A handful of circles of various sizes had been painted on the floor, and a bunch of men, some in exercise togs and others in nothing, were gathered around the closest one. The sound of flesh smacking against flesh rang out more than once, and a bevy of jeers and catcalls erupted from the onlookers.
Tikaya had no more than started toward the ring when spectators leaped aside so a familiar bare-chested man could skid out of the boundaries on his back, a wince on his face.
She stopped at the gray-haired head and peered down. “Good evening, love.”
President Sashka Federias Starcrest blinked a few times before focusing on her. “Why, good evening. Do you... need me?” From flat on his back, he gazed about at the manly decor, such as it was, as if he couldn’t believe there might be another reason she would have stepped foot down here.
“Is it my imagination, or do you sound hopeful that I do?” Tikaya asked.
“Yes. This meeting is proving painful. In more ways than one.” Rias
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