Relic of Empire

by W. Michael Gear

  The chamber stretched over one hundred meters wide by nearly three hundred in length. Each of the niches contained an armed guard brightly dressed in white and scarlet with a pulse rifle at parade rest before him. The members of Divine Sassa’s court waited in a knot of corpulent bodies at the far end of the gleaming room. Their gazes rested uneasily on Staffa and Skyla as they entered and were followed by a picked guard of Ryman’s Special Tactics unit.

  His Holiness never exposed himself to any but his closest advisers. Instead, he floated in serene holographic display, his giant body supported on a gravity field. A sort of reclining couch lay under much of his bulk, but to think he sat in it smacked of the ridiculous. The God-Emperor of Sassa weighed at least

  three hundred and fifty kilos, perhaps more. Rumor had it that if his gravity fields ever failed, the shock of the planet’s 1.2 gravities would kill him instantly.

  An entire cult of obesity had sprung from Divine Sassa’s weight. In an empire otherwise faced with starvation, the high and mighty gorged themselves in emulation of their god much to the amusement of anyone not presently being ground under the mighty Sassan boot.

  Staffa walked forward warily, thankful for the steadying presence of Skyla beside him. She wore brilliant white armor studded with jewels and golden filigree. The result set off her long ice-blonde hair, braided now and wrapped around her left shoulder. With her at his side, he could do anything.

  Staffa slowed as he neared Divine Sassa’s end of the room, the nobles and Councillors drifting back to clear the way.

  Staffa halted, bracing his feet, hands on hips, his charcoal cloak billowing around him. One by one, he cataloged the Councillors, enjoying a grim amusement as they, dropped their eyes and blushed. Only Legate Myles Roma and Admiral Jakre managed to withstand his stare.

  “Greetings, Lord Commander, and welcome once again to Imperial Sassa. The capitol complex is graced by your presence.” Sassa’s words sounded hollow as they echoed around the room.

  Staffa raised his eyes to the hologram. Divine Sassa hovered like a dirigible above his gravity platform, Not a hair grew on the man’s bald head. The colorless eyes made gimlets in the pudgy flesh of his face. The rest of his huge girth had been wrapped in meters of finely embroidered fabric. A corps of attendants saw to that.

  “And I by yours, Divine Sassa.” Staffa gave the Emperor the briefest of bows. “I must commend you on the reception I was given. I’ve received every courtesy from both the Legate and the Admiral. Security was perfect. The Companions offer you our deepest gratitude. “

  “We are always most glad to be of service to you and your loyal troops, Lord Commander.” A pause. “For myself, I can’t say how glad I am to see you here. For several months we found ourselves discomfited with worry, Lord Commander. Our agents informed us that you’d disappeared. Subsequently, we learned that you’d been treated most maliciously by the Regan tyrants. And yet later we learn that Regan Imperial forces not only hunted you like an animal, but actually sought to assassinate you. Your anger at their perfidy is ours.”

  Staffa rocked back on his heels, meeting Sassa’s round-faced stare. “It would seem, Divine One, that they failed-but the blame falls upon the shoulders of Minister Ily Takka. I’ve become convinced that Tybalt, rest his soul, never had all the facts placed at his disposal. Rather, it seems the Minister of Internal Security was following her own agenda.”

  “And a most disagreeable one it is,” Sassa pouted. “My intelligence people inform me that she’s continuing the Regan military buildup. Further, she’s executed the Minister of Defense and his Deputies. We interpret this as a means whereby she may establish a clean slate for this boy general of hers ... this Sinklar Fist. Tell me, Lord Commander, what do you think of all this?”

  “It’s disaster, Divine One. With Tybalt, we could have reasoned. For all of his faults, the Imperial Seventh wasn’t anyone’s fool. Ily Takka, serpent that she is, could destroy all of us, even humanity itself.”

  Sassa smiled, rolls of facial fat shifting. “You bring a radiance into my palace, Lord Commander. Your words are like a balm of heat on frozen Ryklos. I must confess, I’d heard somewhat disquieting news that you’d taken to associating with Seddi spies and heretics ... that they might have filled you full of some mystical nonsense and dampened your ardor for the final campaign.”

  Staffa cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “Mystical nonsense? No, Divine One. Sense? Yes. I’ve learned quite a bit from the Seddi. That’s what I came here to talk to you about.”

  An undercurrent rippled through the room. Staffa could sense Skyla tensing beside him. She stood ready to spring, a hard set to her jaw.

  Sassa’s voice had a clipped sound. “Speak, Lord Commander. Am I to understand that you will not join us in stopping the Regan pollution?”

  Staffa paced several steps to the side and whirled, pinning the Emperor with his gray stare. “I came here, Divine One, to try and talk you out of launching an attack on the Regan worlds. If you begin such a-“

  “Why?”

  Staffa cocked his head, matching glare for glare. “Because, Divine One, you’ll lose.”

  In the pause that followed, hushed whispers shot back and forth between the Councillors. The grand hall had gone suddenly chilly.

  “Imperial Sassa will lose?” His Holiness asked with mild amusement. “Lord Commander, Ily Takka has executed her Minister of Defense and his Deputies. She has given us the perfect opportunity. Were you to launch another of your lightning strikes-blast their capital and industrial centers—our troops could follow and crush the last of their resistance. It would be over in a matter of weeks and Free Space would be united. “

  “Free Space would be devastated,” Staffa countered, smacking a fist into a hard palm. “I’ve run the data the Seddi have collected over the years, Divine One.’ They’re right. A final cataclysmic war would condemn humanity.” He turned back. “Ryman, please deliver the studies to the Legate.”

  Ark saluted and stepped forward, handing a stunned Myles Roma the heavy parcel of data cubes and printouts. He pivoted on his heel and stepped back to his place behind Staffa and Skyla.

  “The information I have provided is a detailed environmental and economic study,” Staffa told them. “I don’t ask you to take the Seddi data at face value.

  Have your own people check and cross-check it. I think the results will be frightening.”

  “Frightening how?” Sassa demanded.

  “We’re facing extinction. Conditions within your own empire illustrate the point. You’re barely able to redeploy your forces for a strike against the Regans. Despite a more sophisticated logistics system than the one in use by your enemy, you can’t support a massive mobilization without crippling your economic base. Face it, you’re broke and so are the Regans.”

  “But they are also mobilizing!” Sassa turned red as he roared and flexed his sausage-fat fingers. “What do you expect? That we’ll sit back and allow them to move against us? You’re talking about suicide!”

  “Yes, Divine One, I am. Here’s the situation. No matter how brilliant Myles Roma is, you can’t mobilize and deploy a significant strike force for at least another four months. If you move any faster, you’ll disrupt overextended manufacturing, transportation, and labor. Your people are working at the limits of human endurance. You can’t afford to take freighters out of domestic service for military use because industrial production will slow, or food won’t be delivered, or spare parts won’t be available. Your economy is a house of cards. Pull the wrong one out-and you’ll have disaster.

  “It will take Rega at least as long to prepare any kind of military adventure. They must subdue the civil unrest and replace the military leadership with Sinklar Fist’s people. After that it will take the Regans another three months to supply themselves and integrate the infrastructure necessary for a full-scale invasion. They’ll have to call up reserves, just as you will, and suffer the economic dislocation of key services and personnel. Rega
might have a larger empire, Divine One, but I assure you, they have no one with Roma’s brilliance at logistics or understanding of systems distribution. An attempt to move too fast will be just as disastrous for them.”

  “All the more reason for us to strike now!” Jakre cried, stepping forward. The jeweled rings on his clenched fist shot patterns of spectral light through the air. “We’ve got to hit them before they can fully prepare! “

  Staffa shook his head. “Iban, think! You’ll launch a limited strike in the beginning, because that’s all you can assemble. You want to strike a crippling blow, so you’ll waste a Regan world-say Sylene. Fist will make a counterstrike and destroy a Sassan world, Malbourne. You’ll have built up enough reserve to feel free to tackle a larger target, but not Rega itself, so you’ll incinerate Etaria in hopes of breaking their morale. Fist will repay that by blasting both Antillies and Farhome. And after that, you’ll never stop him.” Jakre glared down his long nose. “You seem to have a lot of faith in this Sinklar Fist. “

  “I’ve fought him. He’s not Tedor Mathaiison or any other Regan commander you’ve studied. He’s thrown out the book, Iban. Fist single-handedly put down the Targan rebellion-despite Regan interference. He decimated the combat capabilities of five veteran Divisions dropped by Tybalt to destroy him defeated them soundly despite being ill-equipped, denied orbital support, and outnumbered five to one. Ily Takka recognized his talent.” He paused. “She’s grooming him for the role of conqueror.”

  “He’s only a child!” Myles Roma cried.

  “He’s also brilliant,” Staffa countered. “He’s going to quell any unrest on Rega, and do it with little investment in time or resources. Immediately thereafter, he’s going to put MacRuder in as his second in command.. Ayms, Kap, Mayz, Shiksta, and the rest of his officers are going to be handed the best veteran Divisions, and his people are going to retrain them. Regan soldiers are used to taking risks and dying on the battlefield. Fist is going to empower them, give them something to really fight for. He’s going to topple the old order and enfranchise his soldiers. And here’s another thing. He promotes based on battlefield ability, not by political favor, family background, or social class. “

  “Then perhaps we should launch our attack directly at Rega in the very beginning,” Sassa mused. “If we could destroy this Sinklar Fist at the outset, perhaps Rega would fall apart on its own?”

  Staffa chuckled hollowly. “An excellent idea, Divine One, but I’d give less than ten-to-one that you’d achieve your objective. Regan spies are every bit as good as your own. Fist will be prepared by the time you can field a large enough force to threaten any of his major planets-and I dare say, he’ll have a stunning defense and counterattack awaiting you.”

  “ Then perhaps I’m missing something,” Sassa said. What exactly do you recommend, Lord Commander? That we sit and do nothing? Allow this boy general you think so much of to consolidate his power? Are we to trust that Ily Takka, the rapacious bitch we’ve come to know her for, will simply let be?”

  Staffa crossed his arms and nodded. “That is exactly what I’m telling you. If you would avoid holocaust for all of us, you’ll abide peacefully and let me handle the rest. I’ll take whatever steps are necessary to protect you from Ily Takka. As to Sinklar, he’ll back off as soon as he learns you’re not going to attack. For the time being, he’s got enough to deal with.”

  Staffa derived a faint amusement from the looks traded back and forth between the advisers. Nervous feet shuffled on the molten gold floor.

  “And what if we decided that our best interest is to act while we have the advantage, Lord Commander?” Sassa’s voice had taken on honeyed tones.

  Staffa felt himself begin to bristle. “You’ll all pay the price, Divine One. World after world will be turned into irradiated slag. In the end, with the help of the Companions, you might win-but what would you be master of? Devastated waste? Pockets of humanity will survive, but most of the resources necessary for the advancement of the species will be denied them. Over the centuries, Your Holiness, even those populations will wither away until the worlds of Free Space are silent and dark. Study the figures I have provided-and draw your own conclusions.”

  Sassa’s pig-eyed stare sought to penetrate Staffa’s iron mask, seeing his real motive. Rot it all, hadn’t Sassa heard a single Blessed word?

  “And your response to such a choice, Lord Commander?”

  Staffa glanced sidelong at Jakre and Roma. Both stood motionless, holding their breath. The spark of anger kindled by Sassa’s tone warmed in his breast. “If you choose such ... we will be forced to act against you, Divine One.” Sassa bolted upright, the pale, skin of his hairless head flushing with anger. “You ... threaten me!” Staffa nodded stiffly. “To save this civilization, yes.

  I threaten you-and Rega.” He took a pace forward and raised a gloved hand, pointing a hard finger at the holo apparition. “I won’t allow you to exterminate humanity, Sassa. Do not cross me!”

  Skyla’s hand settled firmly on his shoulder and Staffa curbed his anger. In a quick glance he took in the pale visages of the Councillors. Roma’s fingers had wound into his fat gut. Jakre’s normally ruddy features had turned pallid.

  “What is this?” asked Sassa suddenly, his mountainous flesh trembling. “Are you working for Rega, Staffa? Is that it?”

  Staffa shook his head, Iflaying the fat Emperor with his gray gaze. “I’m working for the people, Sassa. You’re right; I’ve had a change of heart. It’s time for a new way. The enemy isn’t Rega, it’s out there.” Staffa gestured toward the shining ceiling. “Join me. Help me find a way to break the Forbidden Borders. Beyond them we’ll find our true enemy. Until we do that, we’re simply pawns for whatever beings have trapped us here. If you’ll provide safe passage, I’ll send you Seddi experts to tell you what they know. Perhaps you’ll be as shocked as I was.”

  “Seddi?” Then Sassa laughed, rolls of his fat shaking in waves. Several of the Councillors picked it up, chuckling despite the fact they didn’t understand the joke. “You want me, a God, to allow blaspheming Seddi conspirators into Imperial Sassa?”

  Staffa waited until the guffaws died. “I do. If you’re smart, Divine One, you’ll take them. I don’t care if you accept their theology, but you’d better pay attention to what they know about our history. We’ve been manipulated, Holiness. And for one, I’m damned angry about it. No one manipulates Staffa kar Therma!” He narrowed his eyes to slits, adding, “The last man who did was the Praetor.”

  His Holiness seemed to lose some of his color. “We will consider this, Lord Commander. You’ve given us a great deal to think about and study. Such matters cannot be decided without serious consultation and review. “

  Staffa lifted his chin arrogantly. “No, they can’t.” A pause. “One last thing, Holiness. You and your advisers will pore over the recordings of what took place here today, seeking the hidden meanings. looking for the levels within levels of intrigue and misdirection while you try and determine what I’m really after. To save you that effort, I’ll give you my word of honor that everything I’ve said here today is the blunt truth. Cross me, and you gamble not only your empire-but all of humanity. “

  Without giving Divine Sassa the chance to dismiss him, he whirled on his heel and followed by his staff, stalked out of the deadly quiet room.

  Myles Roma squinted to relieve the throbbing pain that lanced through his head. He didn’t normally get headaches, but this one had pierced his brain with sadistic effect.

  Myles sat at his sandwood desk in histower office. Before him and to one side a huge window displayed the glittering lights of Imperial Sassa. On the other side, monitors glowed across the entire wall. Normally Myles would have worried about the holo of His Holiness, Divine Sassa “, where it stared perpetually down from behind his desk-as if the Emperor constantly watched over Myles’ shoulder. Now, however, both Sassa’s face and Admiral Than Jakre’s filled the two largest comm monitors on his wall.

&nb
sp; “The estimates are only preliminary at this stage Myles told them, “but it appears the Seddi figures are quite correct. How they came up with such elegant statistics is beyond our understanding. Our personnel are only beginning to run the programs provided by the Lord Commander. To complete them all may take weeks given our limited capacity.”

  Divine Sassas, bald head furrowed with thought. “Yet the preliminary analysis appears correct? War would lead to disaster?”

  Myles spread his flabby arms helplessly. “That’s what’s indicated by the analysis we’ve managed to date. What can I tell you, Divine One? We’d have to employ an army of economists, sociologists, systems theorists, political scientists, mining technologists, engineers, ecologists, biologists, mathematicians, and a host of other specialists to check the source material alone for accuracy. Then we’d have to dump critical management programs to free up machine time to run the manipulations-and hope we made no errors in the programming. I don’t know what kind of computer system the Seddi use, but it’s light-years ahead of ours. All I can tell you at this stage is that if the baseline assumptions are correct-and on the surface they seem to be-Staffa is right.”

  Jakre had been fingering his long jaw as he listened. “But aren’t there many ways the data could have been skewed? This is all a matter of interpretation, correct? You yourself admit that many of their statistical functions are unfamiliar to our statisticians. I could pick and choose among the raw data for what I thought was important, disregard that which seemed spurious, and reach entirely different conclusions than the Seddi scholars did. “

  Myles frowned and licked his lips. “Essentially, that’s correct. But I don’t-“

  “Then this could be a mammoth boondoggle. Something to absorb our already strained resources and divert them away from the mobilization and redeployment of our military forces.”