Imperial Echoes

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Imperial Echoes Page 8

by Eric Thomson


  “Did you suddenly find religion, my dear Ishani?”

  “No, but I suddenly found you just now, which means my prayers were answered. We must talk.”

  “In that case, after the service, I suggest we take a stroll through the abbey orchard, where the Brethren engage in walking meditation exercises. That makes it one of the most private places in New Draconis.”

  “Sure.”

  Robbins turned her attention back on the altar where a bald, gray-bearded Friar and an equally aged Sister were uncovering the sacred Void Orb. That done, both turned toward the congregation and raised their arms. Almost at once, the soft buzz of conversation died away.

  They dropped their arms, and the Friar intoned, “The Void giveth.”

  His voice echoed off the walls, as did hers when she said, “The Void taketh away.”

  To which those present replied, “Blessed be the Void.”

  Though Robbins hadn’t attended a service since graduating from the Guards Academy, she quickly fell into the familiar rhythms and found herself eerily at ease among so many strangers. It ran counter to her instincts as one of the state's guardians, feared by most and hated by many, but she wasn’t fazed.

  When she stood as the officiants raised their arms and invoked the Almighty’s blessing one last time, ending the service, it was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, one she hadn’t been aware of until that very moment.

  Robbins followed the flow of people down the tiers and through the door, then stepped aside and waited for Godfrey, who showed up moments later wearing an air of contentment she’d never seen before, even though they’d known each other since their Academy days.

  “What did you think?” He asked as they fell into step side-by-side on the path leading to the orchard.

  She thought about the question for a few moments.

  “It was more powerful than I remember. Mind you, I’ve not attended a service since graduation.”

  Godfrey chuckled.

  “You’re on the right track. The form hasn’t changed since our younger days, but this place gives it a more profound meaning. Or perhaps the great number of devoutly faithful in this sacred house amplifies everything. Many of us didn’t enjoy attending the Academy services, and that attitude permeated the congregation back then. In contrast, everyone comes here by choice.”

  “An interesting way of looking at it.”

  “If you ever have a few moments with Archimandrite Bolack, ask him. Or better yet, ask one of the Sisters he assigned as Commission auxiliaries. They’re the sort who really understand the human mind from the inside out.”

  “Don’t I know it,” she replied in a dry tone. “What I wonder is how you know about that.”

  “Come now. The Commission has been using Sisters with a particular talent as truth-sayers and interrogators for decades. Even if you don’t publicize your practices and eliminate many of those subjected to their full extent, the word is bound to reach ears such as mine. Although I have difficulties reconciling the beauty of the service that we just witnessed with the darkness that Sisters who work for the Commission encounter daily.”

  “I do as well. Perhaps those with the strongest talent no longer feel empathy for others or at least for those subject to their tender mercies. Or they have other coping mechanisms we can’t begin to understand.” She shrugged. “None besides the Brethren know, and they certainly won’t tell.”

  Entering the orchard after sunset was like stepping into another world, lit only by the stars and Wyvern’s two moons. The trees, green and lush, absorbed not only New Draconis’ nighttime glow but its constant background noise so that one might never suspect they were on the outskirts of the Hegemony’s capital. Pleasant, flowery scents tickled Robbins’ nostrils, and an unusual sense of peace enveloped her.

  “I can see why the Brethren practice walking meditation in this place,” she said in a subdued tone.

  “It’s quite something, isn’t it? Finishing my week here always leaves me content with life. Now, what brings you to the abbey, my friend?”

  — 11 —

  ––––––––

  When Robbins finished relating her encounter with Nero Cabreras, Godfrey glanced sideways at her, never breaking stride.

  “You’re right. It could be no more than gossip. I’m sure he has friends or informants inside Navy HQ. Many Commission officers do, you being a case in point. But the fact he went out of his way to let you know is another matter. A warning, perhaps?”

  She grimaced.

  “Could be. Cabreras believes he’s on a fast boat to the Chief Commissioner’s office, and woe betides anyone who rocks it, no matter how noble the cause. He would consider flag officers of the three branches conspiring to ignore the Council’s policies, something capable of ending his ride up the greasy pole. Especially since officers from his own group are actively participating in the conspiracy. The fact we suspect that someone with at least our level of technology is out there based solely on a few crates of innocuous if illegally obtained trade items would strike him as ludicrous.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Although he’s a skillful administrator and a loyal servant of the state, no one ever mentioned sound strategic thinking as one of his more notable characteristics.”

  Godfrey nodded.

  “I’d heard Cabreras’ vision stops with his own career goals. Do you think he has a chance at the Commission’s top job?”

  “With the current Regent and Ruling Council in office? Yes. He’s been cultivating them for years. But if their terms expire before Chief Commissioner Bucco retires, it’s anyone’s guess.”

  “And will he retire after Vigdis and the rest of the rogue’s gallery?”

  “Not a clue. We don’t speak much, and then only in passing. Besides, Bucco would make the sphinx of legend seem loquacious.”

  “And if Cabreras becomes the chief, will you become the Wyvern Group’s commander?”

  She allowed herself a few grim chuckles.

  “Fat chance of that. Naming group commanders is the chief’s prerogative, and I’m not part of Cabreras’ little clique. That, and he doesn’t like me much because he suspects, with reason, that I’m much smarter than he is.”

  Godfrey let out a soft snort.

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  They walked on for a few more paces, then Godfrey stopped.

  “I’ll get a few trusted people on the trail of his little lizard inside Navy HQ, and then we’ll see. Thank you for taking the trouble to cover your steps in contacting me about the matter. Since you enjoyed the service — don’t deny it, I can see the light in your eyes and the spring in your step — perhaps we could do this every Friday. I can’t think of a better cover for our discussions on certain matters, and I enjoy this orchard. Wait until harvest time rolls around. The scent of ripe fruit is intoxicating, almost as much as the schnapps the Friars distill from them.”

  “I thought you were a whiskey connoisseur.”

  “And I am. But there’s nothing like a fruit schnapps for digestion after a rich meal.” He patted his still flat stomach. “Eating well is one of my many vices, as are the products of the abbey’s distillery. Plus, buying their products supports the good works they do.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I need fruity firewater. But back to your suggestion, yes. I’ll attend Friday evening services. We can walk the orchard afterward and discuss business. That way, the office gossips won’t see me haunt Navy HQ anymore. It’ll keep Cabreras guessing, something I enjoy, if you’re interested in my particular vices.”

  “Keeping the Cabreras of the galaxy in the dark is a virtue, my friend, not a vice. And yes, between Sandor Benes and me, we do the same thing with our own supremo from time to time, and not only because VanReeth suspects Benes of ogling his seat at the Council table with undue avarice.” They turned around and headed back toward the abbey proper. “We pro
bably shouldn’t be leaving simultaneously, just in case. If you’d like more time here, I can go first. Otherwise, I’d be happy for another ten or fifteen minutes in this magical place.”

  “Then enjoy your extra time here, Johannes. I’ll be off. See you next Friday.”

  Robbins picked up the pace and soon vanished in the gloom. When she reached the parking lot, Godfrey’s was among the few remaining cars. None of them screamed Commission stakeout team, and she hoped it would stay that way at least until Task Force Kruzenshtern’s return.

  At that point, its findings would blow apart secrecy, or the whole matter might be quashed because there was no one capable of challenging the Hegemony out there. Robbins fervently hoped the former would materialize because the latter meant no impetus to rouse from a long slumber, one which might turn into the big sleep as the last human bastion of star-faring civilization merged with the Infinite Void.

  **

  The following Monday, Sister Sankari, one of the Commission auxiliaries working for the Anti-Corruption Division and in Ardrix’s absence, the senior of the Sisters under Robbin’s command, appeared at the latter’s open office door. She rapped her knuckles lightly on the door jamb and waited, hands joined in front of her, an air of indefatigable patience on her round, puckish face.

  Robbins looked up from her reader and smiled, as she always did when seeing Sankari.

  “Please come in and sit, Sister. What can I do for you?”

  Sankari bowed her head and obeyed Robbins, taking a chair facing the desk.

  “I noticed you at the abbey’s Friday evening service, General.”

  “I was there, yes,” Robbins replied in an even tone, though she wondered what this was about. “And I found it most uplifting. Surprisingly so.”

  “One such as you who returns to the faith after a long absence often does.” The Sister studied Robbins with her piercing gaze, then asked, “Would you like a spiritual guide who might help you along the path of rebirth?”

  The question stunned Robbins for a few heartbeats, then she remembered Crevan Torma taking lessons from Ardrix and becoming calmer, more perceptive, and more efficient because of the mental disciplines he learned. At the same time, a paranoid little voice wondered whether the Void Sisters worked on their own hidden agenda, and this offer of guidance wasn’t just the selfless act of a monastic devoted to a life of service but a way of gaining influence over the Commission’s inner workings.

  Robbins pushed the thought away. Considering Sisters had been serving the Commission for decades, they would have every bit of influence the Order needed by now. And perhaps studying under Sankari might give Commissioner Cabreras something more he could worry about. That alone made the offer attractive.

  Robbins inclined her head.

  “I accept in all humility, Sister.”

  “May I suggest we start with half an hour first thing in the morning, say seven-thirty?”

  Was Sankari’s suggested time fortuitous, or had she studied Robbins long enough to know that meetings in general and especially those called before oh-eight-hundred were anathema to the head of the Wyvern Anti-Corruption Division?

  “Done.”

  “In that case, we will begin tomorrow.” Sankari rose in the graceful motion common to Sisters and bowed her head. “Enjoy the rest of your day, General.”

  “You as well.”

  While watching Sankari vanish into the corridor, Robbins wondered how many of the Wyvern Group’s senior officers were taking lessons from the Sisters. And how many from the State Security Commission’s HQ staff. She knew Crevan Torma had been for months, if not longer. Perhaps ever since Ardrix came to work for his unit.

  Later that day, Commissioner Cabreras poked his head through her office door and smirked. “I hear you found religion, Ishani.”

  Robbins swallowed an exasperated sigh, placed her reader on the desk, and speared him with emotionless eyes.

  “You can’t find what you never lost, sir. I merely thought it was time I rekindled my faith in the Almighty.” She kept her tone conversational, knowing he’d like nothing more than see her rise to the bait.

  “I can think of better things to do on a Friday evening.”

  Contempt mixed with derision glimmered in his eyes. Although he’d never dare say so out loud, Robbins knew Cabreras considered religions utterly useless. Even worse, he saw the Void Sisters working for the Commission as mere mercenaries who wielded an eldritch talent best kept under wraps.

  “No doubt, sir. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  Instead of replying, Cabreras gave her a small wave before vanishing down the corridor. That told Robbins he’d just delivered another warning. Either one of his minions saw her at the abbey on Friday, or she’d been tailed there.

  Curious he didn’t mention Godfrey. Perhaps whoever spotted her missed him, but then, Godfrey looked remarkably different in civilian clothing, something he probably cultivated. Or the tail, conscious of the agreement that Commission personnel on duty will stay off the Order’s abbey and priory grounds, didn’t dare go further than the main entrance for fear one of the Sisters might detect him or her.

  But why was Cabreras playing games? She was hardly on the fast track to glory, let alone the sort of politician in uniform that might interfere with his plans, and knew the two stars on her collar were it. Robbins mentally shrugged. Time she checked for increased surveillance and a convenient side door in the house of worship that might allow her and Godfrey to reach the orchard unseen by the regular Friday night crowd out front. Other than that, it would be best if she made herself forget about the covert expedition in favor of pretending Crevan Torma and Ardrix were truly testing a new anti-smuggling concept with the Navy. Perhaps Sister Sankari’s teachings might help.

  **

  Captain Ewing Saleh, Hegemony Guards Corps Navy, entered Rear Admiral Godfrey’s office and shut the door behind him. The latter gestured at a chair and said, “We may have a problem.”

  Saleh’s eyebrows crept up in question as he sat. “What kind?”

  “The whispering lizard sort. Commissioner Nero Cabreras has a friend inside this HQ, one who told him I’ve been seeing a lot of Ishani Robbins lately. Find out who that is and put him or her under surveillance.”

  “You think this whisperer is one of us?”

  Godfrey shook his head.

  “No. Otherwise, Cabreras wouldn’t play coy. He’s not the type. Someone isn’t buying Task Force Kruzenshtern’s stated mission but doesn’t know why.”

  “I trust General Robbins and you are using other means to communicate.”

  “We’ll be meeting at the abbey after the Friday evening services. The crowd provides suitable cover, and the orchard is a sacred place where we can talk without being overheard. Even the Commission’s most rabid atheists wouldn’t dare go against the compact between the Order and the Ruling Council on matters of trespass and covert surveillance.”

  “For now.”

  Godfrey smiled at his subordinate. “Always the optimist, aren’t you?”

  “Someone must be, so why not me?” Saleh replied, deadpan. “It helps bring balance to the galaxy. Was there anything else, Admiral?”

  “No. Happy hunting.”

  With Saleh gone, Godfrey turned back to the overnighters, top-secret reports from his various sections on events of the last twenty-four hours. The only item of note was yet one more meeting between Archimandrite Bolack and the Regent the previous evening in the Wyvern Palace. Godfrey tapped his chin with an outstretched index finger, eyes narrowed. Bolack and Mandus were spending a lot of time together in the last little while, and that made him wonder why. But short of asking either, he’d find no straightforward answers and filed the information where his subconscious could retrieve it should any further clues cross his desk.

  — 12 —

  ––––––––

  Torma’s eyes fl
uttered open seconds after his stomach returned to its accustomed place. He glanced at Ardrix, slowly unfolding her limbs from the lotus position she’d adopted on her meditation mat when the five-minute warning to transition sounded.

  “I’ve never been in hyperspace for such a lengthy duration.”

  “Neither has anyone else aboard this ship or the entire task force.” She rose in a graceful motion. “My theory was correct. Entering a light trace dampens the effects. I felt no nausea whatsoever this time. You should join me next time.”

  “I believe I will.” Torma reached out to stroke his workstation’s screen, which lit up with the bridge data feed anyone in Repulse could access. “It seems navigation brought us to the heliopause of a star system beyond the Hegemony. Whether it’s the right one is still up in the air.”

  The day cabin’s primary display came to life with the image of a starfield. A blue circle surrounded one of them, slightly brighter than the others, marking the target.

  “If we’re in the right spot, this is a system without habitable planets but five wormhole termini. Perhaps we’ll find the remains of old imperial wormhole forts, fueling stations, or automated mineral mining complexes.” He paused for a moment. “If Commodore Watanabe is willing to explore instead of heading directly for our exit wormhole. We are under something of a time constraint, our records of this place are sparse, and Jan Keter didn’t search for artifacts dating back to the old empire.”

  “I’m sure the commodore will order long-range scans, the sort that our enterprising smuggler couldn’t carry out with his little ship. With any luck, they’ll pick up something that might show how our ancestors used this wormhole node.” Ardrix shrugged on the robes she wore in the privacy of their quarters, covering her exercise clothes.

  “Indeed—” The public address system came to life, startling both.

 

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