Humans

by A. G. Claymore

  Mishak looked to Scylla, wondering why Eth had spoken her name, and his entire body sank into a combat-or-retreat posture. Where the hells did she go?”

  “I’m right here, lord.” The woman’s voice brought him spinning to face her. Tashmitum radiated a clear sense of surprise.

  Gods! It’s all real? Mishak fought to bring his response under control. He came back to a normal standing posture.

  “How did you do that?” Tashmitum asked.

  “It’s not an easy thing to explain,” she said. “If I tried right now, I’d be wasting your time, grasping at useless metaphors. If you give me some time to think about it, I can return another time and go through it more effectively.”

  It sounded reasonable, but Mishak wondered if they might simply be reluctant to give all of their secrets away. He felt a surge of anger at the thought but he beat it down with the practiced ease of a Quailu who’s learned to keep his feelings to himself. “Can you do that again?”

  “Of course, lord.” Again, the voice came from behind him and he still wasn’t aware of seeing her disappear. It was more a question of noticing she was no longer there. He didn’t know if that was important but it gave him a sense of control over his own reactions.

  “And how long has it been since this began?”

  Eth frowned. “I first noticed the changes around the time we fought your uncle at Heiropolis.”

  “Heiropolis,” Mishak mused. “Your mind did go dark to me after that visit we paid to the Varangian ship, as I recall.”

  Eth’s gaze slipped to the right for a heartbeat, and then he frowned, nodding. “True, Lord. I believe they awakened something in my mind.”

  “But how do you explain Scylla? She wasn’t even at the battle for Heiropolis, was she?”

  “I was taken by the Varangians at Kwharaz Station, Lord,” she explained. “I was the contraband grown by the Chironians to assassinate you.”

  The assassin! Mishak thought wildly. How did I not put something so elementary together? And I think I can rule the HQE?

  His concern must have shown on his face because she smiled at him, reminding him – with a twinge of guilt – of Oliv. “I wasn’t exactly Scylla back then, Lord. You would have been briefed on a contraband female, one with no name. And I’ve managed to remove the Chironian programming, so there’s no fear for your safety.”

  Mishak felt a little less foolish but one thing was nagging at him. “You’ve been dealing with this, understanding, as you call it, for quite some time now. Why are you only coming to me now?”

  Eth looked down at the low table between himself and Mishak for a moment. “Lord,” he began, looking up to meet Mishak’s gaze, “I think you know by now how we all feel about you. We serve you willingly, not out of fear but out of respect and trust.”

  “I have to admit, Eth, that it’s the trust that I’m wondering about right now,” Mishak admonished gently.

  Eth nodded. “If it were only Scylla and I, we might have handled things differently but there are others.”

  Mishak felt a shiver run down his spine. “Others?”

  “With different degrees of ability, lord, and that is where we foresaw a problem.” He paused to marshal his thoughts. “We have a reciprocal duty of protection; the lord must protect his people and the people must defend their lord.”

  “That only highlights why you should have trusted me earlier than this.”

  “No, lord. With respect, you also have that same reciprocal bond with the entire empire. You will sit the throne, one day. It’s one thing to take a risk within your own fief but a species that could potentially pose a risk to the empire at large?”

  Mishak looked down at the hand that had come to lightly grip his forearm, then up at Tashmitum’s face. “He’s right,” she told him. “If you take a moment to consider it, you’ll see the truth of it.”

  Eth set his mug down, still filled with hot coffee. He reached out for Mishak’s empty mug and set it down next his own. “If a large enough number of Humans possess the ability to kill with a thought, wouldn’t the future emperor feel the need to consider the implications?”

  “Kill with a thought?” Mishak fought his emotions. “Aren’t you exaggerating a little?”

  “Watch your mug, lord.”

  Mishak looked down at the two mugs. One empty and one emitting a delicious-smelling vapor. He twitched in alarm as the empty mug shattered.

  He looked at the pieces, glistening with the remnants of his coffee. I have to stop taking unannounced meetings just before going to bed, he thought wryly. He looked up to find Eth watching him calmly.

  “Imagine stealthy scout-ships, in the middle of a hostile fleet,” Eth said. “Imagine Humans suddenly appearing on the enemy bridges, decapitating their leadership before they’re even noticed and then disappearing just as quickly.

  “That’s a potent weapon, as long as it’s at your disposal, but what risk do we pose to the empire at large, an empire you’ll rule, one day?”

  “I very much doubt you came here to convince us to exterminate all Humans,” Mishak said. “You’ve already worked out a solution. What is it?”

  “Tight controls,” Eth said immediately. “A small cadre aboard each ship should be enough to handle any special missions. The threat to the empire would be unmanageable, if there were millions of us with this ability, but, if there were only a few hundred, all carefully chosen, the threat becomes manageable.”

  “You mean it would be easier for me to have your elite group wiped out in one fell swoop,” Mishak said, disturbed at the thought but still pleased to note his own success in achieving a dry tone.

  “Frankly, yes,” Eth admitted. “Some would undoubtedly escape such a fate but they’d be alone and far easier to deal with than an entire species of angry super-Humans!”

  Mishak tried out a smile, though it probably looked more like digestive distress. “A species, you said!”

  Eth froze for a moment then raised both eyebrows in a grudging nod. “I did say that, didn’t I? I suppose I meant it.”

  “Good! Now, how do we avoid my having to order your elimination someday? I have no doubts about your own loyalty but we’re talking about hundreds of Humans that I’ve never met.”

  “Which is exactly what we need to change, lord.” He shivered. “Pardon, lord, but there wasn’t quite enough heat in that coffee to compensate for smashing your mug. Would you mind if I dumped my mug and got another, before we go on?”

  “Sit, man!” Mishak waved him toward the couch and picked up the cold mug himself. It’s almost ice! “Is that what you do?” he asked as he stepped over to the coffee service on the sideboard. “You harvest heat energy and somehow create kinetic energy from it?”

  “More like I create the kinetic energy from focused expectation but it requires an energy source. If I don’t find it elsewhere, my own core temperature drops to dangerous levels.” Eth sat, wrapping his arms around his shivering torso. Scylla sat next to him and draped a warm arm around his shoulders.

  “Gleb and I took heat from the Varangians during your mating with the princess. Otherwise, we could never have held them in place for so long.”

  Mishak cursed mildly as he spilled coffee on his hand. “You were holding them in place?”

  “They were moving to intervene, Lord. If they didn’t have specific orders from her father to prevent just such a thing, I’d be very surprised.” He offered a teeth-chattering grin. “You see? Even back then, we were watching your back!”

  Tashmitum let out a deep rumbling chuckle that carried a higher counterpoint. “Given what we were doing, your choice of idiom seems a little too close to home.”

  Eth joined in the amusement but, though Mishak could feel amusement from Scylla, she displayed none of the usual Human tells. Almost like a Quailu, that one. He handed the coffee to Eth and sat opposite him.

  “So how do we work to ensure loyalty in those we haven’t met?”

  Eth drained half the cup in one gulp, shudd
ering with involuntary pleasure as the hot liquid ran down into his chilled core. “This is a good start,” he said, hefting the mug toward his lord.

  Mishak laughed but then he stopped suddenly. “You’re serious!”

  “You said it yourself, lord. They haven’t met you. Make this a part of the whole package. When they’re declared ready for duty, they come to you and sit down for a coffee with the royal couple.”

  “We’re hardly sitting on the throne, just yet,” Mishak demurred.

  “But you will be,” Eth said with an absolute certainty that humbled the Quailu lord. How did he achieve such loyalty from this Human? Well, he’s trying to tell you, isn’t he? “So we just have a coffee with them?”

  Eth looked to Scylla. “There should be a bit of ceremony to it, I think.”

  She nodded. “A touch of formality would increase the value of the experience.”

  “One of us should present the new member of this… guild?” Eth shook his head ever so slightly. “We’ll need a proper name for it. Anyway, one of us brings the new candidate to your door, lord, and your guards challenge us with something formal – Who comes before the Couple-Royal? or some such.

  “We declare who we are and one of the guards steps aside to reveal a low pedestal with something on it that they have to destroy.”

  “A mug?” Mishak suggested mischievously.

  Eth stopped mid-breath and nodded non-committally. “I’m thinking something that symbolises their new role.”

  “A clay tablet?” Tashmitum suggested. “Inscribed with a real stylus in court cuneiform. Something like the word ‘chaos’. They smash the chaos-tablet using only their own energy, giving their heat as a gesture of fealty.”

  “And then the shivering new guild member is brought in to us,” Mishak continued the thread. “I serve hot coffee and we chat for a while.” He had to admit, it was just the sort of thing he loved. Back on Kish, he’d enjoyed the feelings he evoked in his people when he condescended to deal with them on even terms.

  “It would become a part of the whole package. Folks would see these people and say ‘She’s with the guild. She’s had coffee with the emperor and empress!’” Eth nodded to himself. “It builds in a degree of respect for them that’s tied directly to you. That’s a good start on binding their loyalty to the throne.”

  “To the throne?” Scylla asked. “Or to our lord and lady, as well as their heirs? The two concepts may not be the same forever and we are, after all, their subjects, whether he’s the emperor or a one-system minor lord.”

  Mishak waggled a finger at her. “Now you’re really selling this!” he said. “Your organisation might be smaller than the Varangians but you could easily rival them in importance. Anyone challenging us or our descendants for the throne would have to give serious thought to your response. Would an emperor from a different family be able to count on guild support or would you maintain the bond with my own family?”

  Tashmitum hissed. “That may backfire on us. If the others feel we are too powerful, we might lose votes.”

  “Most would probably assume that they’d function as an arm of the throne,” Mishak countered. “By the time they realize the difference, the vote will be over.”

  “I would imagine that any support we’d render to an emperor from another lineage would be at your own family’s discretion.” Eth glanced at Scylla. “As she said, we are your subjects because you’re the lord of Kish, not because you’re in line for the throne.”

  “That certainly doesn’t hurt our line of succession,” Tashmitum said, “and, if we ever lose the throne, it does ensure our family’s continued influence.” She turned to a holo that had just popped into existence with a light chime.

  “Perhaps this is a good moment for us to adjourn,” she said. “We should take time to think over what we’ve discussed so far and we also have someone waiting to speak with us…” She slid the holo over to her husband.

  “Gleb!” Mishak leaned forward and set down his mug but then, with a glance at Eth, picked it up and drained the last dregs. “Is he?”

  Eth nodded. “No time like the present to start off a new tradition.”

  Tashmitum touched the orange icon beneath Gleb’s name and it turned green. The door to their private lounge opened and the Human walked in.

  “Welcome back, lieutenant!” Tashmitum rose from her seat and inclined her head in greeting.

  Mishak stood as well. “Who comes before the royal couple?” he boomed formally, startling the poor Human, which Mishak couldn’t help but enjoy, especially as it was Gleb. He had a very unsettling effect on most Quailu.

  Eth came to his rescue. “We bring Glebkennu of Kish before you. We declare him ready for service in the Guild.”

  Gleb, reassured that his lord hadn’t suddenly lost his wits, looked to the mug that Eth was pointing at.

  “You see here… oh bugger!” Eth pulled out a marker and scrawled ‘CHAOS’ in rough cuneiform across one side of the mug before setting it back down. “What is your duty, Glebkennu of Kish, when you find chaos within your lord’s domain?”

  “I… destroy it?” Gleb raised an eyebrow.

  Eth indicated the mug again. “Then do so now, using no external energy.”

  Gleb widened his eyes at this but he could see that his superior was taking this seriously so, while he was still looking at Eth, the mug shattered.

  “It’s a good thing we just use cheap mugs from the mess hall,” Mishak muttered. He jolted a little from his wife’s pinch. “Sorry, dearest,” he said, realizing he was jeopardizing what little solemnity the moment possessed.

  “Sit, everyone.” He turned to the coffee service and poured fresh mugs, bringing the first one to Gleb. “This was our first attempt at a new ceremony,” he told the Human as he sat next to his wife. “I’m afraid we’re still working out a few bugs.”

  “You’re the first inductee into the…” Eth shook his head. “I don’t want us just calling it ‘the Guild’. It lacks something.”

  “This guild is for those of us who possess the understanding?” Gleb asked. “Yeah, Guild doesn’t cut it at all. I’d go with something a little scarier like the Nergalihm.” He tried to drain his mug but coughed on the last dregs when Eth slapped him on the back.

  “You got back just in time!” Eth told him. “Gods only know what kind of lame title me might have settled on, if you weren’t here.”

  Tashmitum stood, reaching down to take Gleb’s empty cup.

  “This is also a part of the ceremony,” Mishak explained, gesturing to the princess. She was refilling the mug with hot coffee. “You’re officially the first of the Nergalihm to have coffee with the royal couple.”

  “And here I thought I was just coming in for a debriefing. Thank-you, your grace.” Gleb took the mug back and downed half of it, sighing at the heat.

  “Well, things have moved along rather quickly this evening,” Mishak told him. He dropped back into his seat. “A half hour ago, I was on my way to bed, no idea what you were up to and now I’m… what… the lord commander of the Nergalihm?”

  “Has a good ring to it,” Eth said, “and lord commander, is a clear reference to your lordship of Kish. Makes us less a fixture of the HQE and more a group loyal to one particular family.”

  “Good! That’s sorted out.” Mishak turned back to Gleb. “So, what have you learned while you were away?”

  “Well, lord, I’ve learned that system security is pretty lax out there. Your brother’s data was easy enough to steal and even his comms are an open book. Changed his outgoing glyph to read ‘Melvin the Bastard’.”

  “Really?” Mishak laughed. “He must have been livid when he found out!”

  “Couldn’t say.” Gleb cradled the warm mug. “Far as I know, they still hadn’t noticed it by the time I left the ship.”

  “I suppose most folks don’t really look at the glyph very closely. They look for the crest to figure out who’s calling them, not the cuneiform,” Mishak said, still chuc
kling.

  “Your brother won’t see it like that,” Tashmitum insisted, smiling. “He’ll just think of all the nobles he’s called with that ridiculous name to announce him and more than a few of them like to have the computer announce the caller by reading that glyph.”

  “Oh, that is delicious!” Mishak slapped his thigh. “Can you just imagine him wondering at the behavior of those he’d called?” He looked at Gleb. “It’s a good thing you left before it was found out.” He narrowed his gaze.

  “That reminds me, my young Nergalihm, about a rumor that’s been circulating. They say that the lord of the underworld paid a visit to Memnon’s ship recently…”

  “I might have killed a few of his crewmen on my way off his ship,” Gleb admitted, “and they might have all been found in the same pose with no discernable cause of death…”

  “And a deck officer on the verge of hysteria, shrieking about Nergal wanting to use his entrails for sausage skins,” Mishak added. “What was the thought process behind all that?”

  “Well, it started out because they were getting in my way but I figured I should make the most of a dicey situation. See if I can get a little panic and fear to spread.”

  “By posing them?”

  Gleb shrugged. “The average Quailu is a fine individual but, with respect, lord, a poorly trained Quailu crew led by a self-absorbed tyro is a panicky herd on the verge of stampeding. I tried giving them a nudge. If you’ve already heard about it, then I must have met with some success.”

  “True enough.” Mishak leaned forward. “So, then you went to my father’s ship. He had Humans as well, I take it?”

  “Indeed lord, else I’d be dead by now. They’re treated slightly better than the ones on Melv… Memnon’s ships, but they still only perform the lowest tasks. It seems that the Meleke Corporation is selling them to your father and brother as ‘free’ Humans, though they have to sign indenture contracts in return for their existence.”

  “That doesn’t sound at all legal,” Tashmitum said.

  “I don’t believe it is, my lady,” Gleb confirmed.

  “They’re just encroaching on the genetic contract to get under my skin,” Mishak asserted. “We’ll deal with that but, first, have you found anything that explains the influence my father is able to exert over the nobles, even though he can’t come through on his threats without plunging everyone into chaos?”