Imperial Echoes

by Eric Thomson

  “My commission predates hers by two years, and we received our fourth star at the same time. I should be Regent in her stead, but she outmaneuvered me with her predecessor and the Conclave.”

  “And if she seizes absolute power, you’ll never get the chance.” Bucco fell silent for a bit, eyes on his glass. “Did you ever hear of an obscure prophecy uttered by a mystical Sister shortly after the Hegemony’s birth concerning the reunification of human worlds? Jessica was her name, I believe.”

  “No. What manner of nonsense is that?”

  A shrug.

  “Void nonsense. I came across it years ago when I was digging into religious matters during an investigation. The Order suppressed the prophecy almost from day one due to the political implications at a delicate time in our history. I can still recall the wording, however. When both halves of that which was split asunder merge once more under a new, glorious Crown, humanity will fulfill its destiny in the Infinite Void. Apparently, she uttered a lot of obscure rubbish like that. I doubt many of the Brethren remember her name, but it wouldn’t surprise me if the records of her visions were passed down from Archimandrite to Archimandrite. They do like their mysticism, and this is just the stuff that’ll give them a frisson.”

  “No matter what’s driving Vigdis and Bolack, we face a problem. If she’s intent on sidelining the Council and the Conclave, then we must do something.”

  Bucco gave his colleague a sardonic smile.

  “I’m open to proposals because I can’t think of anything that’ll stop her now. She timed it much too well for any real pushback, and if the Navy and Ground Forces chiefs of operations were involved in the Kruzenshtern expedition from day one, the Council is effectively helpless. Should it reach that point, my folks will obey the Regent before they obey me, and they definitely won’t take up arms against the rest of the Guards Corps, let alone the Wyvern Regiment.”

  “Don’t you use professional assassins?”

  “Sure, but once Vigdis makes her announcement in a few hours, the ball will start rolling, and then, even if one of my people takes her out, it’ll be too late. Someone else will seize power and carry on with the plan. Your man Sandor Benes, perhaps.”

  “Why can’t one of us seize power?” VanReeth took a healthy slug of his drink and sat back, scowling.

  “I can’t because no one will accept a Commission officer as Regent. You won’t because the moment Vigdis falls to an assassin, the rest of us will fall victim to a coup d’état.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because logic dictates that if Vigdis had opted for suppression, we would shortly have found ourselves in cells or dead, perhaps caught in the crossfire between the Wyvern Regiment and enough rebellious Guards Corps units to wipe it out. Please don’t tell me you didn’t figure out Benes and his cabal wouldn’t stand by idly once my folks start executing senior officers. They made their plans well before the task force came back.”

  “Which leaves us where?”

  “Damned if I know.”

  — 42 —

  ––––––––

  Torma and Ardrix didn’t speak a word during their strange trip aboard a Wyvern Regiment staff car straight from the detention apartments to the abbey. But once they climbed out in the abbey’s quadrangle and the vehicle sped away, Torma gave her a questioning look.

  “Any idea what this is about? If we’re here, it must be the Archimandrite’s doing, though it’s pretty late in the evening for services.”

  “Compline is long gone, and everyone except for the duty staff is asleep. Just be happy we don’t observe Midnight Offices.” She shrugged. “I know as much as you do, which is nothing.”

  At that moment, an aircar appeared from the direction of the abbey’s motor pool. It glided to a halt beside them, and the passenger compartment doors opened.

  “Come in,” Archimandrite Bolack’s voice commanded.

  They obeyed and settled on a bench facing him. But the doors didn’t close, nor did the car drive off. Instead, Bolack studied them for a few heartbeats.

  “The Ruling Council has voted in favor of revealing Task Force Kruzenshtern’s mission and owning it for the greater good of the Hegemony, but without mentioning Lyonesse’s existence. However, much work needs doing in a short time frame to minimize social disruption. Meanwhile, you’re joining the Lyonesse Brethren at the Grenfell Priory, where you’ll be sheltered from anyone who might plan on circumventing the Regent and her actions.”

  A frown creased Torma’s forehead.

  “You mean she’s on our side?”

  “Vigdis Mandus is on the side which will do the least damage to the Hegemony and its chances for a prosperous future, and that’s acknowledging we’ve been asleep for two centuries. You will play a role in this, but for now, you must vanish so that she may act without fear her opponents might nab you.” Surprising them, Bolack climbed out of the car. He stuck his head in. “A late-night trip isn’t for everyone, but it is necessary. Enjoy the priory.”

  The doors closed, and their car moved off at a sedate speed, leaving the lights of the New Draconis Abbey behind them before lifting off into the starry night.

  Torma and Ardrix glanced at each other.

  “Whatever I was expecting, this isn’t it,” he said. “Earlier today, Mandus seemed ready to see us shot for treason. Now, she’s on the side of progress? Something isn’t right.”

  “Knowing the Archimandrite, I’d say everything is right. Plans within plans, Crevan. The Order mastered that skill long before the Ruggero Dynasty ascended the imperial throne.”

  “Which Order?”

  An angelic smile lifted the corners of her lips.

  “We are both children of the same Infinite Void. If the Almighty wills it, we will become one again in due time.”

  The flight to the Grenfell Priory took much less time than it would if they’d traveled on the surface. But it was still closer to dawn than compline by the time they landed in its courtyard, where a sleepy Friar, roused by the Mother House, guided them down. He led his unexpected guests to tiny, individual cells in the dormitory and shuffled off without ever speaking a word.

  The gentle chimes of Matins, shortly after dawn, came much too early for Torma, and not being of the faith, let alone the Order, he simply turned over and tried to fall asleep again. A smiling Ardrix poked her head in his cell an hour later, looking and sounding as fresh as someone who’d enjoyed an eight-hour night.

  “If you’re interested in breakfast, now would be a good time. I’d consider it a personal favor if you wore the robes provided instead of your uniform. This is a contemplative house and disturbing the Brethren’s peace with evidence of a less than saintly world beyond its walls would be rude.”

  Torma nodded as he sat up.

  “For you, anything. Besides, I don’t much feel like a colonel of the State Security Commission right now. Not after spending time in the custody of the Wyvern Regiment, even though they treated us with due courtesy and respect once we left the Palace. Something breaks when your own side arrests you after years of loyal service, even though you’re released several hours later without so much as an explanation, let alone an apology.”

  “It was an act, Crevan, of that I’m sure. Knowing the Archimandrite, he might even have told Mandus everything once Task Force Kruzenshtern was beyond recall.”

  “The Wyvern Regiment troopers certainly didn’t think it was an act when they hauled us out of the Regent’s office.” He stood, clad only in his underclothes, and reached for a black Friar’s robe hanging on the wall beside his uniform. “Why would Bolack inform the Regent while we were still outbound?”

  “So she could come to grips with the idea that our old ways were over for good, no matter what we found on Hatshepsut, and do so without pressure from the other Ruling Council members? It’s better than surprising her upon our return. Our Archimandrite is a wise and canny
man, Crevan. Since he’s virtually untouchable, he’s the only one who could bring her the news without causing a crisis.”

  Ardrix gave Torma a critical once-over after he settled the robes around his shoulders.

  “You almost seem like a real Friar. Keep in mind that he and the Regent are pursuing their own agendas, but they know it’s best if those agendas don’t contradict each other at the very least. What they are is not clear, but we can make informed guesses.”

  “Power. It’s always the primary driver. Keeping a grip on power and expanding that grip without losing control has driven Ruling Councils for ages. I suppose in Bolack’s case, it’s getting the upper hand on a rival whose doctrines vary from yours, especially as it concerns the subordinate role of men in their version of the Order. Although he didn’t know the latter until we returned.”

  Ardrix chivvied him out of his cell.

  “But our records tell us how the old Order functioned, and he would have consulted them when we first suspected it survived, and that was well before our departure.”

  They joined a line of Brethren entering the refectory just as the first light of day painted the craggy mountaintops around them a delicate pink. Grenfell was at the bottom of a narrow alpine valley, beside a running stream and a country road, both of which appeared at one end and vanished at the other. The priory’s cluster of one and two-story stone buildings dating back to the empire’s happier days were the only evidence of habitation for dozens of kilometers, and the nearest town was almost an hour away by ground car.

  As they crossed the quadrangle, Torma took several deep breaths, reveling in a chill morning air filled with the clean, spicy scent of the native coniferous trees carpeting the lower slopes. For reasons that escaped him, he suddenly felt a little lighter of spirit, as if there was something about Grenfell capable of soothing troubled minds. Perhaps it was why the Order used this as their house for contemplatives, who wished a life far from the secular world.

  Once inside, they saw the Lyonesse Brethren, breakfast trays in hand, settle around a table in the furthest corner, and after Torma and Ardrix picked up their food, they made a beeline for it. Hermina watched them approach with a wry smile, and when he glanced at the vacant chairs with a question in his eyes, she nodded.

  “You come across much better in robes than in uniform, Colonel,” she said by way of greeting as they sat. “Are you taking vows?”

  “We are here for the same reason as you, to hide far from hostile eyes. Blending in is part of it. Our head of state was apprised of your republic’s existence, though not you specifically, yesterday by Archimandrite Bolack, who took us along with him. And her reaction was harsh. She ordered Ardrix and me arrested and placed in detention until late last evening when the Archimandrite saw us delivered here by aircar. Things are probably stirring in the capital, and someone wanted us where we couldn’t answer questions that should stay unanswered for the moment.” Torma nodded at his companion. “Ardrix has her own theories as to what is transpiring.”

  “Things are probably in a tizzy back home as well,” Hermina replied. “The supply ship should have come through by now and hightailed it back the moment its captain spoke with Rianne and Horam. But our leaders won’t arrest the messenger, nor will our people face an existential crisis.”

  “And ours will?”

  Hermina turned her eyes on Ardrix.

  “If my understanding of your government system is correct, the idea there are humans with advanced technology freely spreading across former imperial worlds will likely trigger cognitive dissonance. Not least because Hegemony citizens have lived for generations under autocratic rule supposedly for the good of humanity’s last surviving civilization.”

  The latter nodded once.

  “I agree. Which is why our leaders must handle this with utmost delicacy.”

  “And can they?”

  Torma made a face.

  “Our system is brittle and ossified. It won’t handle wholesale change well, I’m afraid.”

  “The fact you were arrested and then stashed away here certainly doesn’t speak of a regime that handles paradigm shifts. Our republic’s government will do much better, I think, and won’t shoot the messenger, not even figuratively.”

  He swallowed a spoonful of porridge, then shrugged.

  “We’re still alive and free, even though we’ve been asked to lie low. And that’s certainly for an excellent reason. I trust the head of the Void Reborn in this matter. He’s one of the good guys.”

  Hermina let out a soft snort.

  “I still can’t believe your lot lets men run the show. It almost happened on Lyonesse and would have meant disaster for both the republic and the recolonization effort.”

  “Different place, different needs, different outcomes, Prioress.” Ardrix gave her a brief smile. “It works for us and has been since the empire’s collapse, so who can say our path is wrong?”

  “Granted.”

  “In the aftermath of the Great Scouring, many who would not otherwise have postulated found refuge in the Order and that changed the balance between men and women. Since then, on average, the Archimandrites have been half Friars, half Sisters, as have the abbots and abbesses, and the priors and prioresses.”

  It was Hermina’s turn to smile this time.

  “How very egalitarian of you. Do your Friars possess as strong a talent as the Sisters?”

  “Not on average, no, though a few are fairly remarkable. But we don’t pick the top leaders based only on that. We also consider other factors, and in the Archimandrite’s case, the ability to navigate political currents and eddies and make the Order indispensable. The Hegemony government is based on absolute power and control over all things and brooks no rivals. Were we not useful to it, we would have been suppressed us long ago, leaving our society bereft of spiritual guidance and without a shred of hope, so we’ve adapted over the years.”

  “I see. Another fascinating glimpse into a civilization that went down the wrong path.” Hermina’s tone was as dry as a bone and, if not tinged with scorn, then with a hint of disdain. However, Torma and Ardrix were by now inured to it and ignored her pointed comments.

  “Keep in mind Wyvern was ground zero for the fall of the empire. The admirals defeated Dendera by a slim margin and barely saved this world along with three others. That sort of thing leaves a multi-generation scar on the human psyche. I’ll take you to visit the site of the old imperial capital eventually, a place which still echoes with anguish and death two centuries later. Perhaps then you’ll understand why our civilization took this path. We didn’t enjoy the luxury of refuge at the far end of a distant wormhole cul-de-sac, one which escaped the ravages of the Great Scouring. It meant our forebears had no choice but take every measure they believed necessary for survival.”

  Friar Metrobius let out an amused chuckle.

  “She’s got you there, Hermina.”

  “Whether those measures are still necessary,” Ardrix continued, “I cannot say, but discovering you will change us, just as it will change Lyonesse. How is something only the Almighty can answer. The Void giveth, the Void taketh away.”

  The Lyonesse Brethren gave the ancient response in unison. “Blessed be the Void.”

  “See, you’re not that different from each other,” Torma said, grinning. “And as for Archimandrite Bolack, I’m sure you’ll meet him sooner rather than later. Perhaps in the next few days. Then you can judge for yourself.”

  — 43 —

  ––––––––

  Later that morning, an announcement over the public address system shattered Grenfell Priory’s silence. All within its walls were summoned to the Chapter House at eleven-thirty for a special announcement by Archimandrite Bolack's order. Ardrix and Torma, who were wandering around the perimeter in silence, glanced at each other.

  “That is highly unusual,” the former said. “Normally, announcements
are made immediately after one of the regular services or during communal meals.”

  “Which means, I sincerely hope, that things are on the verge of moving very fast.”

  Shortly before the appointed time, they joined a throng of Brethren, Void Reborn and Lyonesse, at the Chapter House entrance. Because he was a visitor, Torma slipped into one of the upper pews along with Hermina and her colleagues while Ardrix joined the others. At eleven-thirty precisely, just as the prioress and the chief administrator took their chairs on the dais, a large display over the entrance came to life with the image of a lectern flanked by Hegemony flags and backed by the banners of the Guards Corps’ three branches. The pulpit itself was decorated with the phoenix, sword, and stars emblem of the Wyvern Hegemony. Moments later, Regent Vigdis Mandus, wearing her unadorned black uniform, appeared on the display and walked up to the lectern. She looked straight into the video pickup.

  “Citizens of the Hegemony, greetings. It is with great pleasure and pride that I stand before you to announce the return of the first successful expedition beyond the Hegemony sphere by our courageous Navy. Task Force Kruzenshtern, under Commodore Gatam Watanabe's command, carried out the reconnaissance of one of the main wormhole network branches leading to former imperial sectors beyond our own. During that trip, they discovered several worlds still inhabited by humans but whose civilizations collapsed. As a result, the Ruling Council and I decree that the Hegemony will go forth into what was once the human empire and recolonize those worlds so they may join us in rebuilding and erasing the scars left by the Great Scouring. We will therefore embark on a substantial naval expansion program, increase our Ground Forces, and invite the Order of the Void Reborn to increase is numbers so it can minister to those who will soon become our fellow citizens.”

  She paused, chin raised in a regal bearing, eyes looking straight into the video pickup. Whether it was by some clever technical design or merely his imagination at work, Torma felt as if she was addressing him directly, and he wondered if anyone else got the same eerie impression.