Imperial Echoes

by Eric Thomson

  “Noted. Now, why am I here? Surely not for a discussion on long-dead historians.”

  “Ah.” A smile crossed the intelligence officer’s face. “The Chief of Naval Operations wants to meet you in person.”

  “Admiral Benes? Why?”

  The smile became both mischievous and mysterious.

  “Your sending Colonel Torma to me with his findings put in motion events certain senior people in the Guards Corps see as an answer to their prayers concerning the Hegemony’s future. That makes you a potential ally in rousing our people and especially our government from their torpor.”

  She returned his smile. “Or a potential infiltrator seeking to bust the lot of you on behalf of Regent Mandus. One who merely used Crevan Torma as bait.”

  “Doubtful. We had you vetted by our own assets shortly after Colonel Torma shared his findings with me. And if you prove a better dissembler than we thought, well... I’m sure you can figure out the rest yourself. It won’t be a story with a happy ending for your career.”

  Robbins arched an eyebrow.

  “Or my life? I thought we were friends as well as Academy classmates.”

  “Some things transcend both. It depends on how close your lips end up against Vigdis Mandus’ ear.”

  Robbins let out a humorless laugh.

  “She’s not my type.”

  “That’s what we concluded. Though I understand your own Chief Commissioner works hard at ingratiating himself with the Regent.”

  “Perhaps, but we ‘manage’ Cameron Bucco, if you get my meaning.”

  Godfrey snorted.

  “There’s a lot of that going around these days. I daresay the three services manage their supreme commanders in the same fashion, seeing as how they spend more time playing politics than dealing with their commands.”

  “Too big a span of control, too rigid a system, and never enough trustworthy people. The curse of every authoritarian regime. It would probably be a different story if they weren’t members of the Ruling Council.”

  “No doubt..” Godfrey climbed to his feet. “Admiral Benes is expecting us.”

  He led her through a warren of corridors to the glass and concrete HQ building’s other side. Navy personnel stepped out of their way with alacrity the moment they saw the stars on their collars.

  A few nodded politely, and Godfrey greeted many by name, wishing them a good day. Robbins got her fair share of curious stares once people noticed the State Security Commission scales of justice on her insignia.

  Admiral Benes’ aide jumped up the moment Godfrey led them into the corner office suite.

  “Sirs.” He indicated the open door behind him. “Please enter. The CNO is waiting for you.”

  Robbins had never visited this part of Navy Headquarters, and her eyes were everywhere as she followed Godfrey into a wood-paneled room lit by broad windows on two of its four walls. The usual plaques, souvenirs, portraits, and naval art decorated the other two walls, while a stand of flags formed a backdrop behind an expansive glass and steel desk.

  Benes stood when they entered and watched their approach with intelligent brown eyes deeply set in a craggy face framed by short, silver-shot hair and a well-groomed beard. A compact man, he seemed as broad in the shoulders as he was tall, although Robbins knew it couldn’t be so.

  They halted a regulation three paces in front of the desk and saluted in unison. Benes returned the compliment with a formal nod since he wasn’t wearing a headdress.

  “At ease and welcome, Ishani.” He glanced over their shoulders at the door where his aide stood. “We’ll be fine, Arturo. You can carry on with your duties. I’m not available to anyone other than the Supreme Commander or the Regent, short of an emergency.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As the door closed behind the departing aide, Benes’ gaze settled on his visitors again. He gestured at chairs around a low table in one corner.

  “We’ll be more comfortable there.”

  Once they were seated, he studied Robbins in silence for what seemed like a long time. Unfazed, she returned the favor.

  “What has Johannes told you so far?” Benes finally asked.

  “That there are senior officers in the Guards Corps who seek a way of rousing the Hegemony from its torpor; that my peoples’ findings gave them a perfect excuse to deploy a task force beyond our sphere, and that you see me as an ally.”

  He nodded once.

  “Our first in the Commission.”

  “And you’re considering me for membership in your group.”

  “It isn’t so much a group as a network of like-minded individuals who fear the Hegemony will wither away if it keeps paying mere lip service to its founding principle, the reunification of human star systems under a single government. We can already see the effects of stagnation through the lack of technological innovation, the loss of our forebears’ pioneering spirit, and the increasing amount of corruption, as more and more activities our betters dislike are carried out illegally. Such as the expedition your people uncovered, and which resulted in us speaking this morning while Task Force Kruzenshtern is outbound with senior representatives of the three Guards Corps branches aboard.”

  “So, what does this network call itself?”

  A cold smile briefly lit up his face.

  “Nothing. It grew organically over the past few years, starting with the previous Regent throttling innovation more than ever for fear our leaders might lose their absolute control over Hegemony affairs.”

  “An illusory control at best, in my estimation, sir.” Robbins grimaced. “The Commission would need four times the people at least, and even then, the biggest threat to our future comes from within. Sadly, there’s nothing we can do about it because of the glass ceiling preventing my people from investigating our elites. They were probably behind the smuggler’s expedition to Hatshepsut and points in between, to begin with.”

  “And many other outrages, no doubt.”

  The smile returned, this time with a more predatory cast, and she returned it measure for measure.

  “You’d be amazed how they keep each other and their minions in check with various bits of blackmail. But since they’re off-limits, the only thing we can do is watch, take notes, and wait for a slip-up. And before you ask, there are people within the Guards Corps vulnerable to said blackmail because, as some in the Commission whisper among themselves, they traded their immortal souls for power, wealth, and the pursuit of illicit pleasures.”

  Godfrey nodded wisely. “They took a ticket to eternal damnation, as our friends in the Order of the Void Reborn would say. We know of some within the Navy. There are probably more.”

  “Would you like a list of those we know about?”

  Benes let out a bark of laughter.

  “This is getting more interesting by the minute. Yes, please, do tell us. Johannes can share what we know about Commission members who, to use his expression, took the ticket. But let me discuss a few ground rules everyone within the network observes.”

  She inclined her head by way of acknowledgment.

  “First, none of us know everyone involved. We use the old cell system for security. I could meet a general from the Ground Forces and not know they are part of the network and vice versa. You are now part of a cell that includes Johannes and me. Don’t ask if there are others in this cell. Neither of us will answer. Second, you can form a cell within the Commission involving trusted personnel, such as your colonel in Repulse and his assigned Void Sister. However, mention the network as little as possible. In fact, it would be better if you said nothing more than you know kindred spirits with the same goal of securing the Hegemony’s future and seeing that the Oath of Reunification is implemented.”

  “Understood. I assume I can form more than one cell so long as each isn’t aware of the others?”

  “Yes. Third, we don’t mention the network nor give it code
or cover names. Outsiders cannot perceive what is nameless. And four, we hold discussions in secure locations, covered by field dampeners, and never over any communications devices whatsoever. Your service is much too adept at intercepting everything and anything.”

  “Sensible rules, sir. Would you like my services in case you need to vet someone? We can access resources beyond your reach, and my people never ask why any given individual is under scrutiny by the Commission’s senior leadership. They fear the tender mercies of our Void Sisters.”

  “Johannes was hoping you’d make that offer. Yes, we accept with pleasure.” Benes sat back, indicating he’d said his piece. “From here on, communications will remain solely between you and him. It wouldn’t do if our betters found out one of the Wyvern Group’s leading generals was getting overly friendly with the Chief of Naval Operations.”

  “Agreed, sir.” She imitated Benes when the latter stood.

  “Johannes and I still have a few matters to discuss.” He held out his hand. “A pleasure meeting you, Ishani.”

  “Likewise, sir.”

  On her way back to Commission Headquarters, Robbins didn’t quite know how she should interpret the meeting with Vice Admiral Benes. But part of her felt strangely elated at the thought there were others concerned about the Hegemony’s future and eager to implement the Oath of Reunification sworn by its founder as he surveyed the ashes of humanity’s first interstellar empire.

  — 10 —

  ––––––––

  Commissioner Nero Cabreras, the three-star commanding the State Security Commission’s Wyvern Group, strolled into Major General Robbins’ office unannounced several days later, shortly after lunch. A tall, lean, narrow-faced man with a prominent nose and equally prominent Adam’s apple, he always reminded Robbins of nothing so much as a human version of the Wyvern Long Bird. The native avian was known for standing in marshy ponds on one leg while watching their surroundings through eerily shimmering compound eyes.

  Cabreras perched himself on a corner of her desk, crossed his arms, and stared at her.

  “A little lizard told me you’re rather chummy with Johannes Godfrey of Naval Intelligence these days, Ishani. Is that related to the cruise Crevan Torma and Sister Ardrix are taking?”

  “As a matter of fact, it does. Johannes gives me regular updates on their status. So far, so good. Both are integrating well with the task force commander’s staff. I’m optimistic the concept will work.”

  Robbins had sold the temporary assignment of Torma and Ardrix to Watanabe’s staff as a way of getting Commission people aboard Navy ships. It was ostensibly so they could step up the fight against smuggling by interrogating suspected merchant captains on the spot rather than weeks later after they disposed of their cargoes.

  Since starships engaged in illegal activities were seized as prizes, it made sense the Navy would enjoy being in on the action rather than let the Commission pocket the prize money. Godfrey had dreamed up the cover story, more proof if any was necessary, that his mind worked in twisted ways.

  “The same little lizard told me the task force fueled up in the Torrinos system and vanished from the sensor grid. Any idea what that’s about?”

  She shrugged.

  “Search me. The Navy doesn’t discuss its ship movements with anyone. We’ll find out when Crevan and Ardrix are back.”

  Her gaze never wavered, but she wondered about the talkative reptile whispering in Cabreras’ ear. Her superior gave no sign of having high-level contacts in the Navy, nor did he ever hint at being among those who wanted a more vigorous Ruling Council, one ready to reclaim lost worlds.

  It was well known around HQ that he wanted to become Chief Commissioner when Cameron Bucco retired, which meant convincing the Council of his utmost loyalty and showing an almost religious adherence to the policies it proclaimed. If it entailed embracing stagnation with all his heart, he would do so. Not that Cabreras would call it so. No, he would use terms such as preserving harmony and balance, security and stability, that sort of thing.

  “Why do I get the impression you’re not telling me everything, Ishani?”

  “I couldn’t say. You know as much as I do about what goes on around here, sir.”

  He scoffed. “Are you forgetting I once sat in that chair and carefully managed the flow of information to the Group Commander’s office?”

  “No, sir.”

  Cabreras stood. “Then do try to remember you’re a State Security Commission flag officer first and foremost. We might be one big, happy Guards Corps, but we owe our primary loyalty to our branch.”

  With that, he left a thoughtful Robbins staring out the window. Cabreras rarely came down from his aerie, and then only for urgent matters. Otherwise, he summoned his divisional commanders. Something was bothering him, that much she could sense without the help of a Void Sister. Could he suspect Task Force Kruzenshtern, with two of his officers among the crew, was going rogue because of Jan Keter and his illegal expedition? But why should he?

  Torma had closed the Keter smuggling case weeks earlier due to lack of evidence. Though very much alive in Repulse’s brig, Keter was listed as having died of natural causes while in custody, a common occurrence. She’d never specifically reported the items of advanced manufacture bearing mysterious old order abbey markings, lumping them in with the rest of the illegal trade goods Keter brought back when she wrote up the summary for Cabreras.

  Could one of the network’s cells involved with the reconnaissance mission be leaking information? She should tell Godfrey as soon as possible but make sure their meeting wouldn’t come to Cabreras’ attention. Otherwise, he’d know something was up. Her superior might consider ambition a virtue, yet he was no fool, and he’d surely be monitoring her every move for the next day or two.

  Robbins pushed the thought from her mind and concentrated on the case file in front of her. She always came up with her best ideas while doing something else. Besides, if that’s all Cabreras heard, then his informant didn’t know the truth. Nothing said he or she was part of the network in any case.

  She looked up at the windows again after a few minutes when another thought struck her. They wouldn’t hear from the task force until its return. There were no functioning subspace radio relays beyond the Hegemony sphere because Dendera’s Retribution Fleet had destroyed every last one long ago. It meant that if the task force ran into something dire, she might never hear from them again.

  The idea came shortly before quitting time. Robbins pulled up the file the Commission kept on Rear Admiral Johannes Godfrey. All senior officers were scrutinized, and their lives dissected before promotion beyond lieutenant colonel or commander, even those wearing the Commission’s insignia. Yes, her accessing it would leave a trace, but her name would be only one among many who read up on the Chief of Naval Intelligence in the last year, Commissioner Cabreras among them, and his last time was only the previous day.

  And there it was, her solution. Godfrey attended religious services at the abbey every Friday evening. As part of the deal between the Order and the Hegemony, surveillance of any Void Reborn house and those who visited them was strictly forbidden. It was the price the Ruling Council and its enforcer, the State Security Commission, paid in return for the services of truth-saying Sisters, the ones who could plunge into another’s mind and see what it contained.

  Now Robbins had to show renewed faith in the Almighty and make it believable. Like most Commission officers, she paid little attention to spiritual matters. However, a Void Reborn Orb sat on her office’s sole bookshelf, a reminder of the Hegemony’s symbiotic relationship with the monastic order that made her service branch so terrifyingly effective.

  Thus, two evenings later, after an early supper, Robbins headed for the abbey in her private ground car, which, contrary to most in New Draconis and indeed most on Wyvern, wasn’t equipped with a tracking device that betrayed its owner’s every move. A major ge
neral, especially one of the Commission’s divisional commanders, enjoyed that particular perk along with most of the planet’s elite.

  She parked in the assigned lot beyond the main gates and walked the rest of the way to the large, vaulted yet simple stone building where the Brethren held services for the public. Its pinkish granite cladding seemed to glow as it reflected the last rays of the setting sun while soft light seeped through tall, stained glass windows.

  A gentle murmur of voices escaping through open doors reached her ears when she joined the flow of silent worshipers. Like them, Robbins was dressed simply — dark trousers, a loose, long-sleeved white blouse beneath an equally dark jacket, and comfortable, flat-heeled shoes.

  In deference to the abbey’s sanctity, she’d left her sidearm in the car and felt strangely naked without its comforting heft. Technically, a Commission officer going about in public unarmed was against policy, especially if she wore civilian clothes, but this was the sacred abbey.

  It wasn’t the first time Robbins entered the Hegemony’s premier place of worship, but it was the first time she would join a service. Finding the cathedral-like hall bursting at the seams well before the appointed time gave her pause. One of the few aspects of Hegemony society to which the Commission paid little attention was the Order of the Void Reborn’s influence, mostly because of the mutual interest compact between the secular and the religious.

  That so many would attend a regular Friday night service within the abbey walls surprised her, although perhaps it shouldn’t. The abbey ran regular services in outlying houses of worship scattered around New Draconis, as did priories elsewhere across the planet, and those were always well attended.

  Her eyes searched for Godfrey’s familiar face among the crowd but in vain. And yet, shortly after she found room on a densely packed pew in one of the higher tiers lining three of the house’s four walls, a hand tapped on her shoulder. She turned her head and found herself face-to-face with a smiling Godfrey. Like her, he wore sober civilian clothes, the sort favored by the rest of the congregation.