EMPIRE: Resurgence

by Richard F. Weyand

  When Ardmore dropped out of VR, he was back in his office on the Imperial Office floor of the Imperial Palace. Burke came in from her office next door and sat in one of his guest chairs.

  “How did I do?” Burke asked.

  “You’re amazing, and I love you.”

  “That good, huh?”

  “Oh, yes,” Ardmore said. “I think we should probably take the recording of that meeting, from the point where you showed up, and ship it to every member of the families. All billion descendants of the one hundred eleven.”

  “That’s a good idea. I think Ms. Schneider can handle that.”

  “That thing with snapping your fingers was perfect. How did you manage that?”

  “Well, the attack ship was in the air from the time the meeting started,” Burke said. “I gave the firing order and then had to time the snapping of my fingers to the arrival of the rocket, but I had the tactical display of the attack ship running in another channel.”

  “Well, it was startlingly effective. I didn’t expect it, and it scared the shit out of me.”

  “Good. I actually got the idea from your thing about the last meeting, where I could kill people by shooting lightning from my fingers. But we need to get these people out of this mode or we really will have to kill them all.”

  “I know,” Ardmore said. “So Sciacca is dead then?”

  “Oh, yes. I didn’t just cut him out of the channel. I cut the signal off from the other end.”

  “Good. He was the mastermind and main implementer of the nuclear weapon attempt, and that sort of thing cannot go unpunished.”

  “Agreed. I don’t like executing people, but in his case I was happy to make an exception.”

  “Ms. Schneider, you made a recording of that meeting, as I requested?” Burke asked.

  “Of course, Milady.”

  “Excellent. What I want to do is to send a copy of that recording – from where I entered to where I left – plus pointers to the Derwinsky book and His Majesty’s book, to every descendant of the families. Can we do that?”

  “Yes, Milady. You will need to actually send the message yourself to issue it under Imperial header, but I can prepare the message for you.”

  “Do that, Ms. Schneider. Let’s see if we can’t reinforce the message to the family heads by bringing some pressure on them from the bottom up.”

  “Yes, Milady.”

  Across the Empire, and especially in the former Democracy of Planets, hundreds of millions of people saw the video and began to read the autobiography of Eugene Derwinsky and ‘Power & Restraint: An In-Depth Retrospective On The Four Good Emperors.’

  Oath

  After the families meeting had dissolved into chaos, Maire Kerrigan wanted to send a message out to all the family and agent contacts she had across the entire conspiracy. As they knew the Empire was monitoring their communications, her draft message was simple: Reply back if you have decided to give all this up and be loyal to the Throne.

  Of course, that was its own sort of trap. What if someone didn’t reply back? Could they then be assumed to be against the Throne? Would the Empress consider that to be answer enough?

  Kerrigan thought about it and added another condition to the draft message: Reply back if you have decided to give all this up and be loyal to the Throne, and want to join a business group to promote our businesses within the current system.

  That was better. People who didn’t reply may have simply decided not to be part of such a group. Maybe they were just done with groups, period. To make sure such a group didn’t veer off into opposition to the Throne, if nothing else.

  Kerrigan was also hearing from Walsh family members who received the Empress’s message. There were millions of descendants of Sean Robert Walsh. The family had its own conversation rooms and bulletin boards in the VR system on Galway. Most of them had had nothing to do with the conspiracy and wanted nothing to do with it, and they wanted to make damn sure Maire Walsh Kerrigan knew that.

  Kerrigan found that interesting as well. Of the billion descendants of the hundred and eleven who had been executed by the Emperor Trajan, most of them were happy in the Empire, pleased with the government, and wanted nothing to do with any actions against the Empire. In the Walsh family, at least. What had been, in her single strand of the family, their raison d’être, to the rest of the family verged on lunacy.

  For that matter, not all of the families had even been involved. Less than half the hundred and eleven families were left in the conspiracy after over three centuries of plotting and scheming. Most had said ‘Enough, already’ long ago. Kerrigan, Sciacca, and the rest had been bitter-enders.

  Kerrigan hoped the Empress had sent her message to the descendants of the others as well, to all the members of all the families. If Kerrigan’s experience was echoed across the other families, it meant the conspiracy was finally over and they could all get down to the business of, well, business.

  It would be a relief.

  The small antipersonnel missile that had flown into the window of Anthony Sciacca’s office on the Sciacca estate on Verona had absolutely shredded his office. There were flechettes everywhere, embedded in the walls, ceiling, floor and furniture of the office, plus the ones that had ended the life of Anthony Sciacca.

  The shards of the body of the missile had penetrated into the adjoining bath and broken fixtures and smashed tile, but had not penetrated through the stone supporting wall to go deeper into the house. Staff had put out several small paper fires in the shattered office, but there had been no other damage to the building.

  His son Marco, who had demurred from getting into his father’s anti-Empire activities, now found himself the head of the family and heir to the estate and the company’s businesses. In his mid forties, he had been running the business side of things when his father was distracted with his anti-Empire activities, so he was well-prepared for a role as the pater familias and corporate chieftain of the family.

  Marco had warned his father about irritating the Throne, and had kept his physical distance by building a house on the other side of Verona City from the family estate, in an upscale suburb of the city. The Throne’s irritation, Marco knew, could often result in collateral damage, and, having warned his father, he intended that he and his family not be in the blast zone. He was therefore not surprised by the turn of events, and, while he mourned the loss of his father, he did not place any blame for it on the Empire. His father had poked that bear himself, and the outcome was predictable.

  Marco also started getting communications from across the Sciacca family and all its branches, demanding he stop any activities that would draw the ire of the Throne. As that was his intent anyway, he drew up an affirmative response which he sent in reply to all such messages.

  Marco sent an enthusiastic reply to Maire Kerrigan’s call for a business council to coordinate among their businesses and set all foolish, in his view, aims of toppling the Empire aside.

  It was a much chastened and more subdued group that met in the virtual conference room a week after the Empress’s appearance. Together, they had received tens of millions of messages telling them to end the anti-Empire nonsense.

  “Sciacca family has the chair at the moment,” Karl Weibel said when everyone had arrived.

  “But I am completely new here,” Marco Sciacca said, “and this is really a new group. Completely different goals, anyway, and common goals are what define a group. I withdraw myself from consideration for chairman.”

  Sciacca thought a moment, then continued.

  “I propose that, as the person who called this meeting, Maire Kerrigan would be the best choice as chair.”

  “That makes sense to me,” Arthur Kunstler said.

  “To me as well,” Nikos Mantzaris said.

  “Let’s vote on that, then,” Weibel said. “All in favor?”

  Everyone held up their hands.

  “Unanimous. It’s you, Maire.”

  “Thanks, Karl.”

&
nbsp; Kerrigan collected her thoughts, then made her opening statement.

  “You may imagine my surprise at the mail I have been receiving, which you may have been receiving as well. Thousands of messages telling me to stop irritating the Throne, life is good, and the vast majority of the Walsh family is content with the current government and its rulers.

  “I never thought of us as a bunch of bitter-enders, but apparently we were, we and our immediate relatives. That’s a bit of an awakening.

  “So what are our goals now? Helping each other with business issues, of course. Giving preference to each others’ companies when we purchase goods and services across sectors. Perhaps negotiating shipping rates and the like as a group with other companies to get better deals.

  “There’s one more possibility that may not have occurred to you. The Empress, when we spoke, suggested we bring the Throne ideas that would be to the benefit of everyone. Not lobby for concessions or preferences. She was clear that was going to go nowhere. But if we do have ideas that would be of benefit to all, we should bring them to her.”

  “Well, you’d be the person to do that, Maire,” Oksana Durov said. “You’ve already spoken with her. You already have the relationship.”

  “I wouldn’t call it much of a relationship, but yes, we have spoken. And I survived the experience.”

  There were some chuckles at that.

  “I was surprised, too, how much the family called me on the carpet over this,” Nikos Mantzaris said. “I guess I thought most of them were behind me at least a little bit. Nothing could be further from the truth. And they did not like getting mail directly from the Empress about it. How the hell did we get here?”

  “Habit. Tribalism. Confirmation bias,” Kerrigan said. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? We’re here, we move forward.”

  “I read those two books the Empress sent around in the last week,” Weibel said. “Derwinsky was most persuasive. But reading ‘Power & Restraint,’ I was surprised at just how restrained the Empress was in her response. She could have executed all of us, and all of our agents. Trajan probably would have. As far as I know, she didn’t. Just Antonio and Colonel Ryan.”

  “No,” Kerrigan said, “just Antonio. Colonel Ryan is listed as executed for his treason, but what Her Majesty ‘executed’ was my brother’s alter-ego. Ian Walsh is on the way home right now, in hyperspace. I spoke with him at Tommy’s funeral.”

  “That’s astonishing,” Weibel said.

  “Her Majesty apparently didn’t want to poison a peace deal with me by executing my brother. She’s a lot wiser than we ever gave her credit for.”

  “A lot of that, I think, is His Majesty,” Bertram Corbyn said. “He’s a historian, and will know the dangers of escalating any sort of blood feud. This is clearly a move to deescalate.”

  “With the threat of a draconian response held in reserve, though,” Jost Auer said.

  “Of course,” Kerrigan said. “If we won’t deescalate, she’s not simply going to sit back and let us continue to whack at her. We’ve almost killed her twice now.”

  “Another goal I have,” Kunstler said, “is to get our agents released and our funds restored. What chance is there of that?”

  “We can ask,” Kerrigan said. “Whether she does that or not will depend on how she reads us and our intent. How can we assure Their Majesties this is truly over, and we will be loyal subjects of the Throne? For that matter, how can we assure our own families of it?”

  “I have an idea,” Jost Auer said.

  “I just received a meeting request from Maire Kerrigan,” Burke said, sitting in a guest chair in Ardmore’s office.

  “Really.”

  “Yes. She wants to discuss their new business group and assure us of their loyalty to the Throne.”

  “Are you going to take the meeting?” Ardmore asked.

  “Sure. You wanna be there?”

  “Sure. Channel 20 again?”

  “No. Channel 22. Let’s pretend we’re friends and see where it goes.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Maire Kerrigan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then clicked the pointer for the meeting. She really didn’t know what to expect. She was surprised to find herself in a modern office. The Empress, dressed in a business suit, sat behind an expensive but not ornate desk. She realized with a start the Emperor sat in the other guest chair, alongside the one in front of which she stood.

  “Milady Empress,” Kerrigan said, bowing.

  She turned to the Emperor and bowed.

  “Your Majesty.”

  “Be seated, Ms. Kerrigan.”

  “Yes, Milady.”

  “You have a new business group, Ms. Kerrigan?”

  “Yes, Milady. Actually, it’s the old group, with Mr. Sciacca’s son in his place now, but we’re calling it a new group because it has new goals.”

  “And who is the chair of this new group, Ms. Kerrigan?”

  “I am, Milady.”

  “Well, that’s an improvement.”

  “Thank you, Milady.”

  “And Antonio Sciacca’s son sits in his place?”

  “Yes, Milady. He warned his father against ‘poking the bear’ as he put it, and was not surprised his father came to the end he did. I understand he built his house on the other side of Verona City to be out of the line of fire.”

  “As to that, Ms. Kerrigan, did they save the house?”

  “Yes, Milady. While Antonio’s office is going to need extensive remodeling, the rest of the structure was undamaged.”

  “Oh, good. I really did try to be pinpoint there, Ms. Kerrigan.”

  “Milady Empress’s restraint was noted at our meeting, especially in the context of His Majesty’s book.”

  Burke chuckled. Yes, Trajan might have been more, um, comprehensive in his expression of irritation.

  “So what are the goals of this new group, Ms. Kerrigan?”

  “To support each others’ businesses, negotiate common deals, and put the former goals of the group well behind us.”

  “Indeed, Ms. Kerrigan.”

  “Yes, Milady. It was inspired to send your mail to every descendant of all the families. We got millions of mail messages telling us to stop our opposition to the Throne, they were happy in the Empire, that sort of thing.”

  “I thought that might be the lie of it, Ms. Kerrigan.”

  “Yes, Milady. We were vastly in the minority, though we didn’t understand that.”

  Burke nodded.

  “Anything else, Ms. Kerrigan?”

  “Yes, Milady. We want to offer any assistance to the Throne our group might be able to provide. If Your Majesties have some goal or effort we might assist with, we stand ready. We know the Stauss-Becker family has assisted the Throne in the past, but they are primarily in the old Sintaran Empire, whereas we cover the old Democracy of Planets.”

  “An astounding offer, Ms. Kerrigan.”

  “A month ago, I would have said the same thing, Milady.”

  Burke nodded. There was something else....

  “And the other side of this trading of favors, Ms. Kerrigan?”

  Kerrigan reddened a little.

  “We would like to see our family members released from Imperial custody, Milady. And perhaps the restoration of some confiscated funds. But we especially want one more thing.”

  “And what is that, Ms. Kerrigan?”

  “We want to personally swear obedience to Your Majesties, as the sector governors do in the coronation, Milady. In front of our families and each other.”

  Burke’s eyebrows rose. She looked to Ardmore, and he closed his eyes and reopened them slowly. Yes. Burke turned back to Kerrigan.

  “Very well, Ms. Kerrigan. You will have your ceremony. We will also release those in Imperial custody. I will look into the matter of the restoration of confiscated funds and consider it.”

  “Thank you, Milady Empress,” Kerrigan said and bowed her head to Burke.

  “Good day, Ms. Kerrigan
,” Burke said, and cut the channel.

  Back in Ardmore’s office, Burke expressed her surprise about the request for a loyalty ceremony.

  “I’m not surprised,” Ardmore said. “Well, perhaps surprised they asked for it, but not surprised they think it will assure us of their loyalty as well as assure their families. Ceremony is important. The maiden resists her suitor’s more physical advances, then after a short ceremony she welcomes him to her bed.”

  “Yes, but marriage is traditional.”

  “So is swearing obedience to the Throne. It’s been part of every coronation for nearly a millennium.”

  “OK. Point taken,” Burke said, holding up her hands. “And we do it in VR?”

  “Yes, but we should be physically present in the Throne Room, as for the coronation.”

  “All right. I get that.”

  All the descendants of all the families were invited to attend in VR. All the families were given the opportunity to send a representative to swear the oath. All one hundred eleven families put forward their representative. Tens of millions of family members attended in VR.

  Burke and Ardmore entered the Throne Room to the Imperial Fanfare, and everyone present – all in VR – went down on one knee and bowed. Ardmore seated Burke on the Throne, then Paul Diener, standing on the corner of the dais, called the roll. He began with Maire Kerrigan.

  “Maire Kerrigan, of the Walsh family.”

  Kerrigan stepped forward out of the group of family representatives and walked up the steps of the dais to kneel on a pillow at the top. She bowed to the Throne.

  “I pledge my obedience and my loyalty, Your Majesties.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Kerrigan,” Burke said.

  Kerrigan got up and backed down the stairs as Diener called the next family representative.

  One after the other, each was called and ascended the dais. Kerrigan had added ‘and my loyalty’ to the pledge of the sector governors at the coronation, and every family representative followed suit.