by Eric Thomson
“Our ancestors swore the Oath of Reunification long ago. Today, I order every branch of the Hegemony government to execute it. The first inhabited world that will rejoin humanity across the stars shall be Santa Theresa, which is connected to Torrinos via two wormhole transits. Our initial reconnaissance will leave Wyvern in six weeks and the first colonization mission in six months. After a long slumber, we will finally mend that which was rent asunder and reunite our species under the banner of the Hegemony.”
Torma felt Metrobius, sitting next to him, tense up, though he and the rest of the Lyonesse Brethren didn’t say a word.
“Thank you, and may the Almighty in the Infinite Void watch over you always.”
The display went dark, and though Torma heard the rustling of robes as Brethren turned to each other in astonishment, none broke the customary silence. The prioress stood.
“You may return to your customary activities.”
Ardrix rejoined him as they filed out, a smile of quiet satisfaction on her narrow face.
“Our travels were not in vain.”
“No, but let’s give this time to play out. The Regent’s speech just now was merely the opening salvo. She’ll likely face plenty of opposition from those who fear diluting the state's power through expansion will carry a cost they cannot bear, and many of them can sabotage her efforts by using the government’s habitual inertia. They’ve had almost two centuries of practice.”
“What will happen with us?” She led him back on the perimeter path so they could avoid the Lyonesse Brethren, who seemed stunned by the announcement.
“I couldn’t say, but our returning to Commission duty might not be the greatest idea at the moment. Those at the highest levels will know our role in the matter by now, and no one wants a pair of investigators who presume to go so far beyond their remit that they travel countless light-years through the wormhole network.”
“Not even General Robbins?”
Torma shrugged.
“She may not have a choice in the matter, depending on how Chief Commissioner Bucco reacted. We might as well enjoy the peace and quiet here, where our Commission colleagues won’t tread for fear of the Archimandrite’s wrath.”
“In that case, shall we meditate while walking? It will help us digest these events which, using your expression, are now moving extremely fast.”
**
Two days later, Torma, Ardrix, and the prioress stood on one side of the quadrangle and watched the same abbey aircar that brought them to Grenfell land with Archimandrite Bolack aboard. They were warned about his arrival by the prioress less than five minutes earlier, meaning he hadn’t announced his visit for what Torma suspected were security reasons. The situation in New Draconis must be tense indeed, but then Bolack was likely in the eye of the storm, supporting Mandus in her nascent attempt at pushing the Hegemony in a new direction.
After a gentle landing under the driver’s deft control, the side door opened, and Bolack climbed out. He spotted them and broke into a broad smile.
“You’d enjoy the stir back in the capital, my friends. It hasn’t been this lively in living memory. Everyone wonders what everyone else is thinking or planning; the Regent is casting about for trustworthy people who can spearhead the colonization effort; rumors say the Navy is in a leadership crisis and your service, Colonel, isn’t far behind.”
“Welcome to Grenfell,” the prioress bowed her head, imitated by Torma and Ardrix.
“Always a pleasure. This is my favorite house. Such peace. I shall keep myself from disturbing it, but I must speak with your guests, these two and the ones from Lyonesse.”
“Of course. I’ve set aside an office for your discussion with Colonel Torma and Sister Ardrix. The Lyonesse Brethren will meet you in the refectory afterward.”
“Very gracious of you.”
The prioress inclined her head again, then indicated the administration building’s open front door.
“If you’ll follow me.”
She led them through a part of the building Torma hadn’t visited before, but Bolack seemed in perfectly familiar territory. After ushering them into a sparsely furnished room — desk, four chairs, and a credenza — the prioress left, closing the door behind her. Bolack gestured at the chairs and, instead of settling behind the desk, turned his to face them so that they sat in a tiny circle, knees almost touching.
“New Draconis is in utter turmoil. The Regent has upended so many iron rice bowls with her announcement, you’d think the End of Days is nigh. There are few senior people in government she can trust besides the Chancellor and his people, Vice Admiral Benes and Lieutenant General Sarkis and their people, and perhaps you two.”
“And you, sir?” Torma asked.
“The Regent and I have always enjoyed a relationship of mutual trust, Colonel.”
“That, I don’t doubt.”
“I see a question in your eyes. Ask it.”
Torma hesitated for a second or two.
“Did you inform her of the Task Force Kruzenshtern expedition before we returned? Perhaps shortly after we vanished from Hegemony space? Her reaction in our presence seemed a little strange.”
“You mean the arrests?” Bolack chuckled. “That was for your own protection. Yes, I told Vigdis Mandus about the Hatshepsut mystery once Kruzenshtern was beyond recall. At first, she was furious, but after weeks of thinking it over and long conversations with me, she finally acknowledged there could only be one workable path to secure the Hegemony’s future.”
“So that day in her office, it was an act.”
Bolack nodded.
“I’d given her a thorough briefing the day before. However, I then played my role as a messenger for Benes and his colleagues so no one would find out she already knew everything they did. As far as everyone involved is concerned, Regent Mandus heard about Hatshepsut and Lyonesse for the first time that afternoon and faced a momentous decision. But she’d already decided long ago at that point and just needed the Council’s, if not approval, then grudging acceptance. Yet, it meant you needed to disappear so no one could ask awkward questions while she forced the Council’s hand.”
A smirk lit up Torma’s solemn features.
“Admirably devious, both you and the Regent, sir, and I mean that as a compliment. I’ve dealt with slippery customers of every sort in my career, but this is on a whole new level.”
The Archimandrite let out an amused chuckle.
“I’ll take the compliment, but in truth, it was more a case of seizing the opportunity. Many of us fear for the Hegemony’s future if we don’t shake off our torpor, and we’d been seeking something dramatic that might do so for years, so thank you for your diligence in pursuing Jan Keter’s case.”
He bestowed a benevolent smile on them.
“Since the Regent can only rely on a few senior officials and must leave Benes and Sarkis in their respective posts because both services face rapid expansion over the coming years, she will create a fourth branch of the Guards Corps. It shall be known as the Guards Colonial Service, whose supreme commander will not become a member of the Ruling Council and thus will not be appointed by the Conclave like the other service chiefs.”
Torma gave Bolack a knowing look.
“That will shelter the incumbent from day-to-day Hegemony politics so he or she can concentrate on the mission. Slick. I like the idea. Make the Navy and the Ground Forces generate ships and troops for the Colonial Service. What about the Commission?”
Bolack’s smile took on a tinge of mischief.
“That’s where you come in. The Colonial Service will have an Inspector General Branch whose personnel will be drawn from the Commission. However, the IG will not report to the Chief Commissioner but to both the Regent and the Colonial Service’s supreme commander.”
When he saw Torma’s expression, Bolack let out a bark of laughter.
“This didn’t pop
into the Regent’s brain overnight, Colonel. She and I developed a long-range plan over the last few months. Part of the upset in New Draconis is because some people are figuring that out and believe she deliberately sandbagged the Council, the Conclave, and everyone who’s been profiting from the status quo. Which, of course, is true. The decree creating a Colonial Service upset even those who stand behind her, such as Admiral Benes and General Sarkis, but they’ll come around, I’m sure, if only because they’d rather keep their jobs.”
“With the help of your silver tongue, no doubt, sir.”
“I do enjoy good relationships will all the players in this drama.”
“One might almost think you’ve been orchestrating the whole affair.”
Bolack snorted in a most non-monastic manner.
“The Almighty forbid, but no. Still, I live by the motto that victories result from opportunities clearly seen and swiftly seized. Your discovering the Lyonesse-manufactured goods among Jan Keter’s cargo gave the impetus. But back to the Colonial Service. I recommended you become its first IG, with Sister Ardrix as the Order’s senior representative in the inspectorate general. Your career in the Commission is essentially over anyhow, and limited though it may be, you have the most experience with humans beyond the Hegemony’s sphere. Oh, and it comes with a promotion to brigadier general.”
Torma and Ardrix exchanged a glance.
“I suppose I have no choice.”
“You always have choices, Colonel. You can become a brigadier general and play an instrumental role in ensuring the changes you unleashed help rather than harm the Hegemony. Or you can stand on the sidelines, carrying out increasingly futile investigations until you retire as a colonel. Neither the Chief Commissioner nor your Group commander will ever trust you again, and there’s only so much General Robbins can do.”
“I’d already figured that out, sir. Who will head the Colonial Service?”
“Rear Admiral Johannes Godfrey, on promotion to vice admiral. If everything goes well and the service prospers, he’ll receive his fourth star, and you could be in line for a second one.”
Torma thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Makes sense. Godfrey takes a broad view of things, knows where skeletons are buried, and is skilled enough to navigate the worst of the New Draconis shoals. But most importantly, he believes in acting on the Oath of Reunification instead of simply mouthing platitudes. I think I can work for him.”
“As do I,” Ardrix said.
“Good. You’ll stay here for now. Showing up in the capital at this juncture would be a distraction the Regent and her team doesn’t need. Use your time in these peaceful surroundings to learn from Ardrix. The skills she can teach will stand you in good stead over the coming months and years.” Bolack climbed to his feet, swiftly imitated by Torma and Ardrix. “If one of you would be so kind as to warn the prioress that I’m ready for our Lyonesse Brethren?”
Ardrix bowed her head.
“I’ll go.”
She vanished down the corridor while Bolack and Torma followed at a more leisurely pace.
“I guess the old saying that things happen slowly until they happen all at once applies to the current situation in spades,” Torma remarked as they stepped back out into the late morning sun.
“Certainly, but that was the only way we could succeed. Giving the naysayers on the Council time to regroup and form a front against the Regent would have meant failure. Now that they’re cowed into cooperation and a sizeable plurality of the Conclave support the Regent’s call for action, she can deal with the more intractable and less overt opposition.” Bolack stopped to look at Torma. “One of your biggest jobs as Colonial Service IG initially will be looking for the latter who’ll no doubt try their hand at sabotaging its efforts.”
“Then I’ll want a final say on who from the Commission I get, in case General Bucco sends me the lazy, the incompetent, the venal, and his very own spies.”
“That goes without saying. Admiral Godfrey will also be allowed his pick from the other services and the civilian bureaucracy, at least for the senior ranks.” Bolack spotted Ardrix at the Chapter House door, right hand raised in signal. “Ah, our guests are assembled. I shall speak with them alone if you don’t mind.”
“This is your house, sir.” Torma inclined his head. “May the Almighty keep you.”
“And you.”
— 44 —
––––––––
Archimandrite Bolack found Hermina and her flock sitting around a corner table, waiting for him. He entered and stopped a respectful number of paces from them, then bowed his head. All eight stood without a word and faced him.
“My name is Bolack, and I head the Order of the Void Reborn. Though I regret the circumstances that brought you to Wyvern, I hope you’ve been made welcome here.”
“We have. I’m Hermina, Prioress of Hatshepsut.” She also bowed her head and then introduced her companions, who greeted Bolack with the same respect as they would their Summus Abbatissa.
Bolack gestured at the table.
“May I join you?”
“Do we have a choice?”
“Of course. If you don’t wish to speak with me, I shall leave.”
Hermina locked eyes with him, then shrugged.
“Your house, your rules. Please take a seat.”
Bolack dropped into one of the vacant chairs and looked around the table, meeting eight pairs of eyes that gave no hint as to their owners’ thoughts.
“Colonel Torma and Sister Ardrix briefed me on everything you told them and everything they told you. I find it fascinating how we went down separate yet parallel paths, both leading to the Almighty in the Infinite Void.”
“Except your path takes Void Reborn into the heart of secular affairs while ours learned at great expense the dangers of doing so. And that’s without mentioning abominations like Ardrix, something we’ve also learned to avoid at a high cost. Oh, I know.” Hermina raised her hand as if waving away an unvoiced reply from Bolack. “Different circumstances, different times, different needs. Yet the Almighty is an absolute, and so are our vows of service.”
“I can’t argue with you on that point, Prioress. The Almighty is indeed an absolute but will forgive our ways because we either took part in secular affairs or would have watched our Order die out in the Hegemony. That would have left the people with no spiritual guidance and little hope for a better future, not to mention our traditional teaching and healing works would have disappeared.”
“Fine words, but things changed since the collapse. I doubt there’s a need for your involvement in politics, let alone policing nowadays.”
“I’m not so sure. We continue to be a moderating influence on an autocratic regime which, if left unchecked, would turn the Hegemony into something worse than the Ruggero Dynasty’s empire. But other than that, we’re not terribly different, you and us. Based on what you told Colonel Torma and Sister Ardrix, we believe in the same things, work with the community in the same ways, and offer succor where it’s needed.”
Once again, Hermina stared at him for a few seconds before replying.
“I will confess that the Sisters and Friars of this priory, the services, the scriptures, your adherence to the Rule, and everything else that makes Grenfell a House of the Order of the Void differ in no discernible way from how we live back home. The most visible distinction is your orb, but I suppose using a phoenix as a symbol of the Order Reborn is apt. Of course, a different version of the same mythical bird is also used by your government, which doesn’t quite make you outwardly independent of the secular powers.” A bitter smile crossed her lips. “And now you’ll be sending Void Reborn missions to reclaim fallen worlds, just like we do, and prepare them for Hegemony control.”
Bolack nodded.
“We either leave our four star systems and re-enter the wider galaxy, or our society will crumble. Perhaps not as
violently as the empire did, but with the same end result and with countless millions dead before their time. Stasis always leads to decline and eventual collapse.”
“And so, we once again find ourselves with competing interstellar polities, each seeking the upper hand as the sole legitimate heir of our species’ patrimony. Considering the Hegemony’s aggressiveness, that cannot end well.”
“Aggressiveness?” The Archimandrite’s eyebrows shot up. “Did anything you saw or heard give you the idea we were more warlike than your own people?”
Hermina let out a bark of grim laughter.
“Your Hegemony is a military dictatorship, and history teaches us such regimes are always prone to solving problems, be they internal or external, through force. Yes, you’re by definition more warlike than our republic, which is built on consensus between the government and the people. What do you think will happen when our respective navies meet in a star system such as Hatshepsut, with each commander claiming it for his or her people?”
“They’ll negotiate? Or refer the matter back to their government?”
“That’s what ours would do, provided yours doesn’t open fire first. Can you say the same?” A faint smirk briefly crossed Hermina’s face, and Bolack understood she was gently goading him.
“If the commander is under orders to withdraw rather than risk a deadly confrontation, and why wouldn’t he or she be, then yes. The Hegemony may be a dictatorship in everything but name. However, neither our leaders nor our military personnel are foolhardy and itching for a fight. Remember, we still bear the intergenerational scars of the last genocidal war. Besides, the galaxy is huge, and the number of human star systems languishing since the empire’s collapse is so great that by the time we face each other, we’ll both have devised ways of avoiding the errors of the past.”
“So you hope.” She eyed him speculatively. “And when will you return us to Hatshepsut? Or will we stay your captives for the rest of our lives? Perhaps you might consider that freeing us will go a long way in regaining our government’s goodwill and building the foundations for more friendly relationships as we each pursue our vision of reuniting humanity. Besides, we’ve told you everything we ever will about Lyonesse. Not even an abomination like Ardrix can wring more from us.”