Though Bor cringed at the comparison, he was all the more grateful his unflappable Pias would be speaking, not him. As Pias descended, his crystal floated from the constellation. They met in the center: the talisman floating a quarter-tradon above his head.
When it glowed white, Bor swallowed hard. There was no turning back. If Pias lied, the talisman would turn black and inflict pain. Not simply a shock, the discharge was designed to overload the nervous system, or circuitry, of any sentient being. Every dendrite or node would burn with phantom fire; each nolaprike would feel like a turn.
Within these beautiful walls, he’d heard screams otherwise found only in nightmares. If inflicted often enough, the pain could kill.
Pias cleared his throat. “Fellow councilmembers, species from thousands of planets, leaders who help operate this great government, it is my duty to inform you that the Creators of Space recently attacked the T-Class planet at the Nova System quarantine program. Furthermore, Odian Spek is not dead as we all presumed but alive and, again, leading them.”
When Pias’s crystal remained white, Bor counted several lifespans worth of silence. He wasn’t sure if anyone was breathing. Despite the lack of overt motion, the talismans revealed the wild subtext in violent, pulsing flashes of hues across the spectrum.
As the light show escalated, the room exploded. Voices and nonverbal sounds cluttered and rebounded along the walls as the members expressed what their talismans already showed.
“What is this nonsense?”
“I don’t understand!”
“How could this be?”
“Why are we only hearing about this now?” “What proof do you have?”
“Rooka! Is this a joke?”
The constellation of talismans, struggling to find and filter common questions, blinked madly. The mediators tried to quell the cacophony, shouting.
“Order! Order! Order!”
When the three red beams once more connected them, a silence descended as if all the air had been sucked from the room.
Brooznoor roared. “We are the leaders of the Galactic Star Alliance and will behave accordingly! Questions will be presented according to procedure.”
The color storm steadied. Though their brightness did not fluctuate, as the talismans stabilized, they sorted themselves into color groups. The hexagon beneath Barulka glowed; the others dimmed indicating he would ask the first question.
“Odian Spek was tried and convicted two-hundred turns ago. He escaped custody and has never been seen since. The Creators were a short-lived nuisance destroyed at the end of the Saaryki War, again, with no verifiable evidence of them since. Prime Abottkrine, how do you back up your claims?”
Studying the intent gazes, many with a stalwart belief in the GSA’s perfection, Bor imagined kicking a pebble down a mountain watching it become an avalanche.
Pias made a sweeping glance at his audience before looking directly at Barulka. “To probe my claims, I’ll begin with the fact that for the past two hundred turns, the continued activity of the Creators, along with Odian’s involvement, have been covered up by the highest levels of our government. Thirty turns ago, convinced he was dead, we decided that to maintain stability, public knowledge of incidents involving the Creators of Space should be contained indefinitely. That was... until 64 prikes ago. ”
Other than a few holdouts waiting to hear the rest, the shock and outrage was universal. Enareggario’s face became a cartoon caricature of disbelief. Barulka’s expression grew menacing. But, no one stopped Pias from continuing.
“There have been thirty-seven attacks by the Creators, mostly to harm T-Class planets. That’s why our quarantine programs have been steadily scaled up. Many will recall that after Odian obliterated the Saaryki, he blamed the GSA for giving them the opportunity to accomplish their genocide and vowed to ensure it would never happen again.”
Barulka raised his tail. “What proof did you have of Odian Spek’s death?”
Uneasy murmurs wandering the chamber, “The tactics used at Nova were highly consistent with the peculiarities of their known strategies. For example, the theft of a native probe which the Creators are no doubt now using to decipher data from Nova. If they deem Nova unworthy... which they doubtlessly will, they’ll try to sneak a bioweapon past our troops. We know this because they’ve done it before. Several planetary genocides have been falsely indexed as natural pandemics or concealed as ecological disasters. In one case, the Creators sabotaged first contact by inciting a war permanently removing the planet from Alliance consideration.”
The second mediator, Pika, asked, “What war are you referring to?”
“The Loronzon Incident.”
As Pias smiled darkly, his comm band projected a grizzly hologram. “This is Odian’s right arm and a portion of his upper torso. They were found in the wreckage of his cruiser in the wake of the Loronzon Incident. Analysis indicated there was a better chance of two stars going supernova simultaneously in the same system than him surviving. We compared it with genetic samples taken during Spek’s time in custody. It was a match. Not a clone, not code masking, not a quantum match tissue reprint, by any reasonable measure, this was him. It was over. Yet, because it was Odian Spek, we spent five turns hunting for any trace of the Creators and found nothing.” Pias slammed his two lower fists together.
The murmurs grew louder, angrier, predictably so, given that he’d brought up the Alliance’s most notable failures of recent times. The barely bottled rage made Bor anxious. Pias had to bring things to a point quickly before the debate accelerated away from him.
“Do you remember how many allies Odian gathered? How quickly? Many parts of the Alliance still agree with his central tenet that T-Class civilizations should be eliminated to make room for our own expansion. Numerous, scientifically-backed studies show that the resources required to cleanse a planet are insignificant compared to even the most minimal terraforming or, for that matter, the quarantine program used to protect these hostile species. How long will morality hold when we can, cheaply and more easily, play God? Given a voice, Odian could easily destabilize the peace. What happens if he finds a violent T-Class planet, perhaps Nova, to flaunt? How long before others decide to attack infant worlds? If his ideology spreads across the Alliance, how long can we ensure peace?” Pias smashed all four of his fists together. “This is why the Creators and their actions had to be concealed. This is why we need to act.”
The sound echoed around looks of anger and agreement, free and begrudging—the intensity of the emotions varying from passion to blank expressions. Bor noticed that Enareggario’s face had become a blank screen projecting a moving starfield.
Silence increasingly uncomfortable, Pias took a long, sweeping look at the representatives seeming to single out each one. “Every world deserves a chance. That’s why we formed the Alliance: to prevent the long ages of destruction from revisiting us. Odian wants to undo all that.”
Barulka gave Pias a nod signaling satisfaction with his answer. His crystal dimmed. The floor illuminated Pika Ru’Yak revealing tall, antelope legs made for Saroom’s high grasses. She wore a simple, yet elegant duraweave bodygown. It hid most of her tricolored stripes but didn’t obscure the scowl on her muzzle or the disdain in her voice.
”Prime Abbotkrine, by your testimony, despite your best efforts, Odian has already succeeded in eliminating more worlds. Don’t you agree that those efforts could have been more effective if you’d called upon the full government’s resources?”
Pika had worked with Pias over one-hundred turns and now suddenly found she’d been left in the dark. The Agriculture Department had no need for covert ops, but it clearly galled her that the secrecy granted the military had been so blatantly abused.
Pias was unperturbed. “Perhaps, but Odian is a Voidwhisperer, one of the best, and has given that technology to his army. Poetically, perhaps, the Voidwhisperers have been the only effective method of combating him. Full involvement of the Council would have meant pub
lic disclosure of the continuing Voidwhisperer program revealing we’ve all been lying for the past two-hundred turns.”
Pika Ru’Yak had no response.
Bor exhaled. There it is. He’s tipped the scales. Few things were as binding as mutually assured destruction.
“Next question?” Pias said.
Nimitz, the third mediator, hummed. “How was the Nova incident identified as a Creator attack when so few know of their existence?”
Bor’s fate hinging on what Pias’ said next, they briefly locked eyes. Bor occupied his final moment of uncertainty by contemplating the Valador’s beauty, especially the way the light flowed around the walls like an endless river.
He heard Pias saying, “A Nova system quarantine analyst identified the tactics. As per protocol, he was debriefed by a military and investigative panel on Mijorn and brought here for further questioning.”
The crystal remained white, but Nimitz found the vague answer annoying. “Allow me to rephrase, how did this analyst come by information so highly classified that most of this council, myself included, didn’t know about it until just now?”
Watching the dance play out was agonizing. Pias was about to weave some half-truth to protect him and the Inner Council. What if it failed, and a stubborn Pias was tortured to death by his crystal? Bor thought of all the justifications they had committed to, and yet here they were. He angered at others protecting Kruk, even though he was the one to blame. In fact, he couldn’t stand it anymore. As a master of communications, he knew that above all else you had to control the narrative.
The truth was a more powerful weapon than any lie. Having led himself into this mess, it was time to pull himself out. He touched his hand to the platform and shouted. “I invoke Article of Engagement 47!”
Instantly, the constellation locked a beam on him. The rest of the chamber cut to darkness; only the terraces beneath Bor’s feet glowed as he descended to the center.
His move was so stunning, he was nearly at the bottom when Barulka shouted angrily. “By what right do you use such an archaic protocol? Thousands of turns have transpired since anyone dared resort to it.”
They’d all be shouting at him if they could, but the silencing field prevented that. There were looks of shock, glares, disdain, disappointment, and offense. The voting crystals all went red with disapproval. A sea of twitching antennae, flailing hands, bioluminescent flashes, and thrashing tentacles accentuated the heightened emotions.
But Article 476 gave Primes a once in a lifetime opportunity to interrupt proceedings without opposition, so he approached the Valador’s center with open arms.
“I only take such action due to the greatest need. Allow me to answer your questions.”
Pika looked down her snout at him. “Because the Article compels us, we yield the floor.”
Bor stood equal to Pias. The Effective Force Prime remained stoic, but Bor felt his rage. Once Bor’s crystal drifted down to float over his head and reveal his heart, he began.
“Mediators, it is only right these questions be directed to me because the analyst is my son, Kruktusken. I admit to aiding in the concealment of the Creators’ activities. I also admit to grooming my son to be the best possible contributor to, and defender of, our government. When he was a child, I told him bedtime stories about the Creators. When he was older I taught him the reality and how to defend against our greatest enemy.”
His opening was enough to disrupt the brooding energy disengaging the silencing field and allowing a buzz of angry mutters to flood the air.
He pivoted to face the other half of the crowd. “I only ask that whatever conclusion this council reaches, any penalties be passed onto me. If Kruk had been given all of the information, if he’d known and understood the coverup, if I’d been forthright enough to admit my part in it he would never have publicly implicated the Creators. He would have understood the importance of secrecy.” Bor gestured all around the chamber. “Just as you all now understand.”
At this, the room hushed. “Mediator Pika, you suggested it might have been wiser to involve our entire government. Well, I fully share Prime Abbotkrine’s doubts that it would have worked. At the same time, as we naturally cycle, replacements must be aware of the truth to remain on the lookout for the Creators. But, who to trust? Kruk wanted to be part of this government. Like us, he gave up his home world, travelled far and wide to understand how life can be different yet similar, that even as the peaceful protectors of a vast alliance we must never lose respect for viewpoints other than our own, lest we slowly slip into despotism. I strove to give him a greater understanding, so he could see that, so he could be better. In the end, what I did tell Kruk gave us a warning we would not have had otherwise.”
The third Mediator raised his arm and a beam jumped to his grasp. “Prime KruktuskenBor, do you believe your disclosure of these secrets was lawful?”
Bor’s crystal flickered giving him a slight sting. Rather than react, he contemplated the question further before responding. “I do, because by no definition were my actions technically unlawful. The decision to hide the COS was not made by the whole council. Therefore, the revelation was not lawfully banned. Given that, I believe Kruk should be spared punishment and reinstated at his post in the Nova System.”
All waited, expecting to see Bor’s crystal turn black and inflict its agonizing consequences. When it didn’t, there was surprise from many—their crystals pulsing in shifting hues.
Pika’s eyes narrowed to slits. “After Prime Pias’ speech about the dangers of the Creators, you’d put your own son back into the line of fire?”
To avoid mentioning that the Mediator came from a group-raised species that hatched from eggs and never knew their parents, Bor bit his tongue. “For many of you, having a family was never an option. I love my son, yet I risked giving him information because this is that important. I’d risk his life again because we need him. Not only because we need those loyal to this government to watch for signs of Odian’s ideas, but because there’s a mole in the Nova System. It’s the only way the attack could have been planned so well. Kruk can help find them.”
He was sure to leave that last bit for the end. Much as empathy was a powerful persuader, danger was better. Indeed, the room buzzed. Bor felt Pias nodding behind him. The focus was shifting in his favor. Now if they’d only let him steer a little longer.
“And you’ll vouch that your son, Kruktusken, is qualified for such a task?” Barulka asked.
Bor straightened. “I do.”
The crystal did not strike. The room was silent. Bor hoped he had done enough. Maybe, if this all worked out, one day Kruk would forgive him.
The Mediators spoke in unison once more. “Are there any further questions on the subject of Kruktusken?” The crystals remained dim. “Then we are prepared to vote. All in favor of absolving Kruktusken, son of KruktuskenBor, of any crime and allowing him to keep his current position in the Nova system?”
Bit by bit, the crystals turned green or vermillion and joined their distinct group. There were too many changing too fluidly for Bor to count, but there seemed to be a clear majority—a fact confirmed by the announcement. “The vote is 127 for, 44 against.”
Bor’s heart leapt—his joy contained out of the need for decorum. For the first time since receiving Kruk’s message on Epiko, he properly exhaled.
The mediators called a recess; the Primes, again, took to mingling. Pias stepped close to Bor and casually lowered his large head. “Well done.”
Bor grinned. “Well, the hard part is over.”
Pias was oddly cold. “No, it’s not. We still have to see if you can save your own neck. I did have a plan to lift all of us out of this gracefully, I might add, but you decided to blow it up. Next time you interrupt me like that, I’ll throttle you. Two hands suffocating you and the other two to bash in your skull.”
He gave Bor that Anduuzilian head-splitting smile. Despite the warning, his stress continued melting away.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got something to take care of us, just in case.”
Pias’s face twisted at the maddeningly cryptic answer. Before he could demand more, the lights called them back into session.
The Mediators raised their appendages. The talking stopped and the talisman beams swirled with new questions: the strongest coalescing. Watching, Bor wondered how far he could get without resorting to his backup plan.
Barulka began. “Prime KruktuskenBor, having declared yourself part of this coverup, this council demands you name any co-conspirators in addition to Prime Abbotkrine.”
Pika added, “A sizable majority believe that as a consequence of yours and Prime Abbotkrine’s deception, you both should be stripped of your titles and removed from government. While a smaller sector of the council believes Article 37’s are in order.”
Nimitz rounded it out. “Having lied about so much, you both only came forward out of necessity rather than ethical considerations.”
“In consideration of those ethics, you’ll get no names from us,” Bor said flatly. “Do what you will, but those good people acted for the sake of the galaxy at great personal risk and no personal gain. Yes, necessity forced us to break the silence. The Nova Incident already known to many in various departments, it was inevitable that an effort to contain the information would fail. Now that the wider circle of this body knows, it’s crucial we strive to keep this from the populace and the Assembly of Planets. Problem being, our removal would prompt them to investigate.”
Ignoring the many hateful glares, he confidently looked to Enareggario. “Prime, how do you think this council would fare during their interviews with the Kalean High Council7 and the Assembly of Planets dissolution board?”
For a few breaths, the Kalean’s face flowed before solidifying into a Dragsan child with mischievous, blue eyes perched above a cloth-covered mouth. The eyes twinkled merrily as he answered. “Much as I despise deception, if all Prime KruktuskenBor and Prime Pias Abbotkine have stated is true, it would be ill-advised to pursue that route. Limiting communications is the more logical action.”
Beyond Kuiper: The Galactic Star Alliance Page 23