Orbital Entire

They both made an effort to convince him otherwise, but Corin insisted that he had a meeting on another plate and it was absolutely unskippable. He would meet up with them later, after the ship docked on Arkendus, and no amount of special pleading would change his mind. “Besides, you two should meet Cody and the others by yourselves,” he insisted, an excuse that seemed thin even to Markus. “And please,” he had yelled back down the long corridor as he headed towards the hotel’s exit, “don’t roll out the red carpet, I know Cody will hate that! Love you!” And then he had blown a kiss before slipping out of sight.

“He can be a bit much, but I know that I enjoyed last night,” the tiger said, yawning and stretching as he exited the antigrav bed. “Passing you back and forth was a nice touch–he is such a good kisser after all…”

The panther didn’t react to the witty repartee. He just stared forlornly into the distance. “Is there something on your mind, Markus? You’re quiet, at least for when it’s just the two of us.”

Markus snapped to attention, forcing a smile to try–without hope–to shake this morning’s malaise. “Oh no, I’m doing fine, sire! I was just thinking about your home–I’m just, just, so excited to see it!” He couldn’t help his fake smile from cracking and knew he had to give up a little bit of the truth, “Well, I am nervous about…about who I might meet there?”

The tiger chuckled a little bit. “That makes some sense.” He let his cock flop in front of the panther as he reached down to grab a solid purple pair of syndaxian cotton briefs. The resulting bulge was not more modest, but the added cover was enough for the panther to look up and attempt to meet his master’s gaze. “Corin is–well, he’s a lot to handle, and not just because he’s made himself a little larger than me–”

Markus felt compelled to pipe up here. “He may be taller, sire, but he is nowhere near as immense! Probably doesn’t weigh half as much as you do.” His derision was evident, and in the corner of his eye he spied the tiger’s cock pulsing in amusement.

“You are very cute, defending my honor like that.” He took a few stomps closer that the panther could hear but thankfully didn’t feel, “But you know what I mean. He might even do something like this.” Always a show-off, he spread his legs wide and plopped back onto the bed, a hefty fall that knocked the panther off his feet, leaving him supine in the canyon of his master’s substantial thighs. “I thought I heard the two of you talking, but you know how deeply I sleep. It’s always possible I dreamt it.”

The panther was used to his master’s teasing, and even allowed himself a moment to revel in his monstrous power without fear that it would be used against him. “We did.” He struggled with exactly how much to reveal, making a decision to pass over the lace for now. It was too much. “We spoke a while about you, and me, and, well, a little about us together.” As he debated how much more detail he should add, Pub interrupted.

“Oh, is that so? I thought he might try to peel you off me. I hope he knew better than to offer you a job,” the last word was filled with so much contempt the panther misread as patrician.

“No, in fact we–we talked about my loyalty to you, sire. He said he’d answer any question I had about you but I–”

“Didn’t know where to start?” the tiger laughed, leaning back as he hugged the toylike panther with a hard squeeze of his soft thighs. “Or did you figure out it was a trap, and he’d tell me all about it?”

“S-something like that.”

“Which means you must have asked a good question because he would have told me if it was a bad one, or probably even if you said nothing at all.” The tiger sighed, shaking his head. “You might have even passed the test, whatever that was.” He looked down, making sure to meet the panther’s gaze. “You don’t have to tell me anything, though. I respect your privacy.”

Another of the tiger’s peculiar lies. As if there were any thing on any world that the panther could reasonably keep from his sire. “W-well, I, I…didn’t know what to say and I just–I asked him what size he wanted you to be.”

The tiger reacted much as the deer had, uproarious laughter that resonated through the miniature panther. “And what lie did he concoct? That he wanted me the size of mountains? Or perhaps that he wished I were barely enough to taste on his tongue?”

“Closer to m-mountain-sized, I suppose, though, I, I don’t know how serious he meant it–”

“He likes me at both extremes. I’ve offered the same treatment to you, you know. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about me dwindling in your fist!” There was nothing the tiger could do to convince Markus that those words weren’t some elaborate trap, a test of his devotion. Himself, larger than his Lord? King of All Creation? Plenipotentiary and Viceroy for the Kynthari Empire? Of course he was bound to obey the chain of command, allow a superior such as Corin to lord over him–but the panther? The rules were different. They had to be. After so many decades, he fell prey to thinking that he knew the tiger better than he actually did. “Is that all you two talked about?”

The panther tried not to think about the expression on Corin’s face, a mixture of curiosity and smugness terrifying on the face of someone so immense. “Well, he rolled over after that. Said he had answered my question and had nothing more to say.” It wasn’t a lie, not really, but the omissions were glaring.

“He can be a little temperamental,” the tiger said as he sat up, “but I hope you don’t read too much into that. He liked you, I know that much. Always had a soft spot for cute little cats.”

Markus looked up and into the tiger’s eyes, enough that he actually started to convince himself that there was nothing to worry about. From Corin, at least. It was only a second’s hesitation, but once it became clear that the tiger recognized the look in his eyes for what it was, he knew he had to say something. “Well, if you really don’t mind–”

“I don’t,” the tiger boomed, his words sonorous for all their impatience.

The panther took a deep breath, gathering his resolve. “Well, that isn’t all that’s weighing on me these days.”

“Oh?”

“I’m worried about your home, sire. You–” an uneasy pause, words both said and unsaid, “have not told me much about it.”

The tiger was playfully indignant. “That’s not true, I’ve told you plenty!”

“Of course, sire, I know all about the grounds, the gardens, the orchards, the hermitage, the two opera houses, the model cities–but you haven’t told me anything about him.” Cody.

The tiger’s face froze for a moment, though not long enough for Markus to tell if displeasure or concern were the reason why. “I’ve told you plenty about him, too! What more could you want to know?”

“Well,” plunging in, far past the point of no return, “what do you think he’ll think of me? Of…us?”

Without warning, the tiger scooped the panther into his palm, bringing him up to his face with one fluid motion. “My dear, sweet panther. I am certain that he will adore you. It has been a while since we’ve been able to talk, but I doubt he sees you as much of a threat…”

The panther, who had until now not considered the possibility of being a threat, added another fear to his growing list. “It’s just that, well, you’re going through a lot of trouble on my account, and you two have lived together for so long, much longer than you and I–”

“Seventeen years is hardly nothing, even for us!” The tiger objected.

The panther withdrew a little. “Of course, sire, I merely meant that you and Cody have had so many more years together, entire centuries, even!” The tiger laughed at this overestimate but Markus soldiered on. “And he is like Corin, he knows this world as I know Olonne, perhaps even better than that.” The panther had to continue to ignore his tiger’s booming laughter. “And I worry that there are other people you haven’t told me about. It is such a large estate, sire, and even with your size, I know there must be so many people there, and, well–”

“Who knows what they will think about you?”

Markus nodded. “Something like that, yes. W-will they all be quite so large?”

The tiger considered this for a moment. “Many will be taller than you. A few will be smaller, some won’t have physical dimensions, strictly speaking, and some will be close to your size. Most of those will be servants, of course, in one way or another. I’ve told you why I built the place, right? Both the pretext and the real reason?”

“Yes, sire,” the panther’s right paw squeezed his left with enough force to make his knuckles crack. “Something about wanting to explore the effect of size on history? But you just wanted an excuse to lord your size over a group of people, boss them around with your sheer heft alone?”

“Well put. You’ve lived under tyranny so you probably won’t understand, but there’s a lot of playful nostalgia for hierarchy on Arkendus.” Markus didn’t understand the nostalgia for it, perhaps, but reverence for a towering master? That he could understand quite well. “Curiosity about it as well. And it helps that Kurfürsten is full of wanton hedonists.”

The panther’s ears perked at this. “H-hedonists?”

“Pure pleasure-seekers. Makes getting along with the estates around us very simple. Not all of them are obsessed with size, though the ones to our north and north-west are. All three of us were built to evoke different time periods and cultures, but we all share a similar obsession with size and natural hierarchies. The only people we don’t get along with are the monastics to the south who say they’re bothered by our footsteps whenever we go on hikes near their border. Even got a vote called so we have to resize within a kilometer, so there’s some bad blood there.”

The panther was frustrated that anyone would have the audacity to object to his master’s immensity. He had known those who did not fantasize about the tiger lapping them up on Olonne, but to know that such people lived so close to his homestead? Blasphemous. Even worse was the idea that his master could be so easily constrained by others. He didn’t know what he expected in this world of gods, but although he was prepared for many things and shocked by so many others, this was perhaps the most surprising–to find that the tiger had not been lying about his place in this world, a small part of a whole immensely larger than anything he had dreamed. He did report to others, and had to abide by the rules of this society. He marveled how the mighty tiger could handle the unnecessary aggressions of such clear inferiors like these monks. They were taking exception to one of his sire’s most endearing qualities, the way his tread made the ground shake with each footfall!

“You shouldn’t be that worried about them. They’ll all be on their best behavior around you since you’re new, and from a culture that hasn’t even left their homeworld. We don’t get many specimens like that in the Republic, let alone out here on Arkendus.” A flash of the galactic map entered the panther’s mind, a memory too large for his momentarily un-laced mind to fathom. Arkendus was remote, alone among foreign territory, more than thirty lightyears from the nearest Kynthari hab–a word he only vaguely understood and was somewhat terrified to find lying on the floor of his mind. 

The distances involved were so many times more remote than Olonne’s most remote wilderness. He didn’t even try to think about where his homeworld was located, not prepared for any possible answer. “If you insist, sire.”

*

Arkendus-Reboranze Ulysses Publius Maximus dai Marienheid gestured for the panther to look out the windows as they shifted from translucent to transparent. The scene was framed perfectly–the panther had no way of knowing that this was intentional but it was–the Reboaranzen sun’s backlight flushing the massive ring in a reddish-yellow aureole as it stood alone in the measureless darkness of space. He knew nothing about gravity and even less about physics, so to him the sight reminded him of some magician’s trick, though on an unfathomably immense scale. The ship had been large, unbelievably massive, but he’d only caught it in miniature, brief glimpses of parts of the whole, growing more and more colossal each second of the module’s rapid approach. He could see the orbital entire, a perfect circle in the sky that he quickly realized was occupied on the interior strip.

“Are you sure it’s…safe?” Something about living on the inside of a ring seemed a complete impossibility, like living inside the ground.

“Safer than living on your world was before I came and,” an infinitesimal pause that the panther barely noticed, “even afterwards.” The panther supposed he had no good reason to lie about that, though the afterwards sounded like false humility. “You worried about slipping into space? It can’t happen. There are four hundred layers of field generators holding the thing together, and that’s before we get to any of the physical stuff–I’m no expert in the engineering side of thing but I’m sure I could talk to one of the old bats in civil–”

“That won’t be necessary,” the panther interrupted, face flushed with embarrassment. “I’d rather spend the time with you, sire, if that’s alright.”

The tiger’s eyes flashed, amused. “You will have to suffer through some time on your own. This trip isn’t just for pleasure, unfortunately.” The panther felt a sharp pang in his heart, but knew the tiger spoke true. “But don’t worry, we’ll still have plenty of time together. I promise to spend as much of it with you as possible.”

It would have to do. The panther knew better than to gainsay the tiger, but he couldn’t hide his fear. “You really don’t have to worry about them, you’re much safer here than you ever were on Olonne.”

“H-how does that figure?” He didn’t have enough time to panic about his presumption before the tiger’s chuckle ruffled deep into his fur and rumbled through the entire transport.

“Markus, my dear, my most precious possession, I would not have brought you here if I thought you were in any danger, or even any chance of it! You have absolutely nothing to worry about from me, from Cody, from anyone in the Republic.” The words were sincere enough as far as he could tell, but they did next to nothing to assuage the panther’s fears.

“Even f-from the monks?” He asked, wanting Pub’s comfort, delighting in the way the tiger’s laughter filled the air and assuaged his deepest fears. Of course there was nothing to worry about. His master lived in a paradise.

“If you look close, there,” the tiger pointed to some spot on the strip of earth suspended in space. “You can see it.” The panther couldn’t tell what strip of land Publius was pointing to, but the thought that Marienheid was buried somewhere in that immensity filled him with a dreadful excitement.

“Oh, sire, it’s more beautiful than I could have imagined!” He wasn’t lying. He had the pleasure of seeing his homeworld from the air on many different occasions, but this was different. A circle of verdant greens and deep azures was hanging against the indescribable blackness of the aether as they sailed between the many worlds. 

If Pub knew about the panther’s ignorance, that he didn’t share his keen sense of what Marienheid looked like from every angle and perspective, he didn’t let on. The orbital continued to spin below, the large green estates abruptly replaced by blinding spaceport lights as the ship glided into drydock.

*

The horses pulling the carriage were all synthetics, perfect simulacra of the real thing but with the energy efficiency of one of the substantial factories they’d seen in port. Pub felt the need to justify the use of advanced technology in this approach, but of course Markus neither knew nor cared about the strictures of his project and whether the presence of anachronistic technologies ruined the precious verisimilitude to which the orbital community strived. He was used to a sneering contempt that, at best, turned into a sympathetic misunderstanding of the Orbital’s purpose in the minds of an endless stream of visitors. The panther was a blank slate, filled with a wiry, nervous energy that mixed uneasily well with a wide-eyed wonder.

The carriage–an opalescent white with all the baroque gold leaf touches befitting a royal conveyance from the classical period of aristocracy–had been one of the more comforting sights, finally something with which the panther was intimately familiar. His world used ungulates similar to an auroch as draught animals instead of anything recognizably equine, but Markus was intimately familiar with the idea of conveyances for the exclusive use of lords and ladies.

“Well, what do you think?” The tiger’s question boomed in his ears as he nudged the entranced panther away from the amber waves of wheat undulating in the fields they rode past. They were sized for the panther, a fact which delighted him to no end–Publius had many times tried to explain to the skeptical panther that his people included many persons of the panther’s size, but until now Markus had just assumed he exaggerated. Everyone had been friendly enough–”Well?” The impatient tiger repeated and the panther grew flushed under his dark black fur.

“I’m sorry, sire, I don’t…I wasn’t giving you my complete attention. Think about what?”

A devilish fire burned in his golden eyes. “Let’s have some fun. I’m not going to repeat myself. Just give me a yes or no.”

The panther fumbled on instinct, “I couldn’t, I mean what if–”

The tiger would have none of it. “It was an option, not any opinion, so you don’t have to worry about me ascribing thoughts to you that I know you do not hold. A simple yes will suffice.”

Markus trusted his tiger, but was completely unprepared for what he was agreeing to when he nodded his head.

“I’m happy you weren’t paying attention! I would never have gotten a yes in any other circumstance. Maestre?” He turned to the white-furred otter driving the carriage, who responded to the summons by handing the tiger a small black rod that the panther was unable to perceive beyond three basic facts: it was long, cylindrical, and a dark black darker than darkest night. The tiger secreted it in his palm before manipulating the object in some unseen way, some intricate series of movements that distracted the panther from the horror before the device’s purpose became clear to him. He was getting bigger.

“Sire–lord, m-master–Publius!” The panther cycled through his titles, trying in vain to fight the warm, pleasant feeling that had already halved the difference between their sizes. “Please, I really don’t–I, I’m begging you–” He had no clue how to make his master understand the sheer blasphemy, the absurd presumption of merely thinking he deserved to be so large. He fumbled long enough for the right words that the tiger cut him off instead.

“You did say yes, did you not? It is far past time for you to see yourself as more than a mere servant. You are my lover, Markus, and I will not have you approach Marienheid at anything less than this size.” And if Cody was thrown off along the way, all the better. “Besides, I’m still bigger.”

No amount of protest would change his mind. The tiger was so confident he’d be unable to operate it, Markus had to resign himself to his new size as best he could manage. He fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat, the sight of the fields outside the window making him a little nauseous and uneasy now that they reminded him of his heretical resizing. The tiger pulled him in for a kiss, soft and warm on his lips and shocking enough to bring him back to the present. “I always wanted to give you a proper kiss, and that certainly lived up to expectations.” The panther grew flushed and the tiger found an opportunity to pounce. “You’re much cuter when you’re embarrassed, you know that?”

He demurred as best he could. He was happy for any distraction from the massive manor that had just come into view. He would have hoped his increase in size would help the edifice to feel less intimidating, but if anything its dimensions seemed all the more impressive–it was built to be intimidating, even to someone of Corin’s stature. Whatever the mansion may have lacked in height–a mere two or three stories to the giants–it more than made up for in its length and width, stretching far into the distance as they drew closer to its immensity. It was mostly white and beige, with occasional gold and red flourishes and intricate patterns festooned into the smooth sandstone and marble. It was a fortress, entirely unlike the one he had constructed on Olonne and yet also not so entirely dissimilar. The panther doubted whether his people could construct something like this, even with the advancements Publius had brought them. The gardens in front of the castle were manicured to perfection, no fewer than three fountains bubbling water in symmetrical unison as their carriage approached the villa’s front gate.

“How is Cody treating you, Maestre? Still on ass-licking duty?”

Markus could see now the speckles of brown spotting the otter’s otherwise wonderfully cream-colored fur as his cackles filled the air. “Only when I misbehave, sir,” the driver managed to get out in between peals of deep, proud laughter.

“A Westfalen accent would be more appropriate, but I imagine your Low German needs some work.” The otter’s laughter abruptly ceased as the tiger stared daggers into him.

“I am sorry, sir, you are right of course–”

“Oh lighten up, Christien!” It was Pub’s turn to laugh, filling the air with his deep, resonant chuckles. Even now, the svelte panther felt his master’s voice burrow deep inside, calming and terrifying in equal measure. “I know it’s been a long time since I’ve been home but you all would do well to remember that I don’t fixate on the details. Not everyone is as versed in the Early Modern Era as I am, nor should they be!” He let out another rich cascade of belly laughter. “Ghastly time, filled with so much misery–not unlike Olonne before I conquered it, eh Markus?”

The tiger shifted to the panther, who felt compelled to say something, anything. “And we thank you for it, sire.”

Pub let out a sigh and kept quiet for what remained of the trip, stuck fast in a trap of his own devising. He was at least able to shake off the dour expression by the time they came to the front entrance, the carriage’s two large, oaken doors drawn open by servants Markus couldn’t help but note were half his new size, a thought that unnerved him almost as much the forbidden thought of how very, very close he now was to his lord’s size.

The bun was dressed to the nines, a solid green doublet hanging over dark blue breeches, each trimmed with elaborate patterns embossed in gold leaf. Draped in a fine red cape, arms open as he bellowed greetings to the opened carriage. “Welcome, gentlemen, to Marienheid.”

A large chortle followed the tiger as he emerged from the carriage. He preferred a more casual chemise, and made his opinions apparent. “I’ve already done that bit, Cody,” the bun gave him a sharp glare that he ignored, “and I didn’t realize you’d moved the estate back! More Henry VIII than Frederick the Great.”

The rabbit shifted his gaze to the panther now emerging from the vehicle. He’d been prepared for the possibility that Pub would resize the panther, at least he thought was, but seeing him across that lawn, aware that he might actually be taller than the bun…it made his complexe de Napoléon flare. “You should be treating me as your King, Publius. You know the rules, I’m lord of the manor.”

“I know how they used to work,” the tiger laughed some more, kissing the bun’s forepaw before surprising him with a slap on the ass. “If anything I should treat you like family, since we are both monarchs. And really, even you should know better than to humiliate people with a valid claim to your throne.”

The bun forced a strained smile. “As much of a pedantic asshole as I remember. Welcome to Marienheid, King Publius the Magnificent.” He affected a theatrical bow, the sarcasm of the gesture undercut by the regal attire that made his actions seem exaggerated and foolish. He turned to look at Markus. “I don’t believe we have met. I am Cody, master of the manor in Pub’s stead–”

The tiger kept his own sarcasm at bay as he spoke for the panther. “This, my dear bun, is my friend Mark, joining us from his home planet where I’ve been assigned for the past quarter century. I’m not surprised you’re pretending not to know, since you studiously avoided mentioning it in your responses.”

The panther avoided both of their eyes as he stood stock still, trying not to realize just how much larger he was than the many little valets and footmen now crowded around his ankles. Just one misstep would be all it took, then he could–

“What else did you expect after so many years without a solitary word? And don’t say you couldn’t have written, I know you were in regular access to general information, even heard you wished June a Happy Birthday the last couple years–”
“Oh come now, getting upset at me for well wishes–”

They would have doubtless continued to bicker well into the night if a certain owl had not chosen that moment to flutter up and onto the bun’s shoulder, doing as best a job as someone who could fit in either of their palms could at separating the two titans. “Pub, sir, it’s an honor to have you back here. If there is anything I or the other servants can do to help make you more at home, do not hesitate to ask.”

“Why, Quil! My, it’s been ages since I’ve last seen you, how are you holding up? Is Cody treating you well?”

The owl felt his cheeks grow hot at the direct attention, but it was better than hearing his two masters bicker like little children. “Of course, sir, no complaints here. I’m just honored to oversee Marienheid, it’s such a beautiful estate. Nothing like it in all of Kythar–I’ll never get used to the feeling of ordering around servants five or ten times my size.”

The bun could not let this continue without adding something of his own. “The little bird can be quite the tyrant when he needs to be, though it helps to have the lord–” glancing over at Pub, he corrected his word choice, “the lords of the manor looming behind you.” He gestured expansively at the behind, meeting the panther’s uncertain gaze with his own impossibly neutral stare. Or was it a glare? “Shall I show you the main house…Markus, was it?”

“M-Markus is fine, Mark works as well…” the panther broke eye contact, afraid of what he might find buried in the rabbit’s enigmatic smile.

Cody made an about-face, his cape lightly whacking the panther’s side and causing Markus to yelp in fright. A thoroughly unimpressive specimen with little to recommend. So tightly wound that he’s frightened of fabric phantoms. It took all his self-possession–and a little help from his drug glands–to keep contempt out of his expression. 

The panther could still feel the harsh judgment. It oozed from the rabbit’s every pore, every movement, every haughty expression. He started to feel chastened, his fears flaring up with such intensity of feeling. Who was he to think he deserved this, any of this–not just as large but even larger than this Lord? And deep, deep within, a quiet voice whispered: doesn’t Cody look a little less regal than Publius, a little more pathetic, even. The other parts of his mind tried aggressively to silence this clear, undeniable heresy, more terrors blooming into being as he considered that Pub might be able to read his thoughts like Corin had…

The owl was almost thrown off by the rabbit’s abrupt turn, but was used to Cody’s often taciturn moods and well prepared for whatever punishment clawing into the giant’s shoulder might bring. The thick fabric of his royal doublet was, luckily, rough enough to help the owl avoid being tossed the many dozen meters off and onto the cold, hard ground.

The tiger followed behind them all, making a point to nod and shake the hands of each and every footman in rapid succession. He knew most of their names without having to resort to a split-second of that slack-jawed expression of someone consulting with General Information or perhaps one of the plate’s Dhi, and the few he didn’t recognize turned out to be little more than subroutines capable of serving dishes and saying thank you in the dozen or so required languages. The smaller ones had to be picked up and gently caressed in something that approximated the action of a handshake, a full-body squeeze that made the micros feel as flushed and small as they made the tiger feel bigger and better. He turned to look at the open doorway. It had been many decades since he’d last crossed this threshold. He took everything in with a deep breath before letting it all out with an even deeper sigh.

He was Publius Maximus dai Marienheid, conqueror of Olonne. It would not work out by itself, but he would find a way to make it work. He always did.