Scales of Empire

by Kylie Chan

  Lena pushed her finished tray away, folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them. ‘I’m so wrecked. This is worse than residency.’

  ‘You can always quit and go home,’ I said.

  ‘Nope,’ she said into her arms. ‘I had The Talk. I’m staying and finishing this bullshit. I am going into space.’

  ‘The Talk?’ I said.

  ‘You haven’t been told about it? A few of us have had it,’ Edwin said. ‘Commander Alto takes you for a private chat in his office to confirm your place on the ship. I think he’s starting with medtechs and then working his way through the colours.’

  ‘I’m so busy reading the stupid histories that I barely have time to eat,’ I said. ‘Let alone talk to my cohort. I think there’s two or three other security people I haven’t even met yet.’

  ‘Yeah, sometimes we go days without seeing each other,’ Edwin said.

  ‘Everybody panics until they’ve done The Talk,’ one of the women said. ‘Scared they won’t be confirmed. Then when they are confirmed, they panic that they’re actually doing this.’

  ‘Super-stressful,’ Edwin said.

  ‘We have to be resilient enough to cope with it,’ Lena said. ‘It will be even more stressful when we’re launched into space in a claustrophobic can with a limited social network of people we may intensely dislike for the rest of our lives.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to give up and go home?’ I said.

  ‘I lie awake every night convinced I can’t do this, and decide to quit when morning comes,’ she said. ‘I never do.’

  ‘A few people are doing that,’ Edwin said. ‘Up all night freaking out, then back into it the next day, just as committed as ever.’

  ‘I’m not,’ I said. ‘I’m determined to get there. Any hints on ensuring you’re confirmed by Commander Alto?’

  ‘I don’t think you’ll have any problem,’ Lena said. She rose and picked up her tray. ‘I’m turning in. I don’t care how early it is. I’m completely wrecked and I need to write a letter home.’

  She returned her tray to the rack and went out.

  The Nippon Maru came up on the screen and we all turned to watch. The commentators started to dissect the situation on the Japanese colony ship.

  ‘They have nothing new to add,’ Edwin said. ‘Everything they could say, they’ve said.’ He put his cutlery onto his empty tray. ‘We just need an update from the ship to know what’s happening.’

  ‘We may never hear from them again,’ I said, still watching the screen.

  3

  It was six more weeks of psych and physical examinations and training before I was called in for The Talk.

  I went up three floors to the admin level, and introduced myself to Alto’s assistant. ‘Jian Choumali to see Commander Alto.’

  The young man didn’t look away from his screen, he just pointed at some chairs. ‘There, and wait.’

  I sat. The room had once been bright and modern, but the white paint had peeled in places, and there was a brown patch on the wall where the commander’s assistant had been leaning on it. The door was painted white as well, with Commander Alto’s name on it, but it was thin ply and I could hear voices inside without making out what they were saying.

  The door opened slightly and I craned my head to hear.

  ‘No, I understand,’ the woman holding the door said.

  ‘Your choice,’ Commander Alto said. ‘Are you sure this is what you want to do?’

  She opened the door wider, and I saw she was wearing the rose-pink jumpsuit of Human Resources. ‘I’m sure, sir.’

  ‘Very well,’ Alto said, and she nodded, came out, and closed the door behind her.

  ‘Are you staying?’ I asked her, full of curiosity.

  She broke down, sobbing. She made no attempt to wipe her face, just stood with her hands by her sides, weeping uncontrollably.

  The young man behind the desk sighed loudly with impatience, and guided her into one of the seats. He took a box of tissues from his desk and dropped it into her lap, and she nodded her thanks, still crying.

  He returned to his desk, looked down at his screen, then up at me. ‘Corporal Choumali?’

  ‘Sir,’ I said, sitting straighter.

  He gestured with his head. ‘Your turn.’

  I looked from the weeping HR woman towards the door, then decided to ignore her, tapped on it, and went in.

  Commander Alto’s desk held a pile of paper files, but apart from that it was clear. A bookcase contained a number of old paper books, and some happy photos of him with family members: his mother in a sari, his father in a suit, and his wife and child – both dead, killed in the ’64 floods – smiling at the camera.

  I gathered myself and stood at ease across the desk from him.

  ‘Name?’ he said without looking up from the tablet he was reading.

  ‘Corporal Jian Choumali.’

  He gestured towards the chair across from him. ‘Take a seat, Choumali.’

  I sat. ‘Sir.’

  As he flipped through notes on the tablet, I took the opportunity to study him more closely. The prosthetics were good – they’d been made to mimic his skin colour – but half of his face was glossy and unmoving, and obviously fake. His right hand was larger than natural, and he wore a glove over it. He used his left hand – still natural – to manipulate the screen.

  ‘Corporal in the army, IQ one hundred forty-four, impressive results on the testing.’ He looked up, and the pupil of his right eye was silver, not black. ‘Do you know why we recruited you, Corporal?’

  ‘You just listed three of the reasons,’ I said, doing my best to ignore the prosthetics. ‘I’m also mixed race, providing genetic diversity, and I suspect another reason is that I’m bi. You’ll have far more women than men on the ship, and there’ll be fewer issues if we women can pair up in supportive relationships.’

  ‘Are you still sure you want a place on the ship? The Nippon Maru never contacted us again, and it’s very likely they failed.’

  ‘We need to do this, sir. Our atmosphere is shrinking. Sea levels are rising. We have to colonise other planets if we’re to survive.’

  ‘True,’ he said. ‘So are you sure? You have good security clearance; you could return to your position in the military if you wanted. You don’t have to stay here. You were building a successful career, and your base commander would be happy to have you back.’

  ‘I want to go, sir.’

  ‘Very well. We need to know if there’s anything that could jeopardise or enhance your participation in the mission. Anything at all. If there’s a skill that we don’t know about, tell us now.’

  I looked down at the table. They knew who my father was, and they had to suspect I had the same abilities.

  ‘You know everything about me,’ I said without looking up. ‘You just said that I passed all the tests with flying colours.’

  ‘That’s true. But we need to be absolutely sure that you can follow orders and fulfil your obligations, and not hide anything from us. You were ordered to tell us anything that we might need to know, Choumali.’

  I hesitated, then said, ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Well?’ He leaned forward and studied me intensely. ‘Is there something you want to tell me?’

  I looked into his eyes, past the weird silver pupil and the rubbery facial prosthetics. His emotional aura was full of curiosity.

  Crunch time. I wouldn’t be sent home for being telepathic. But if they found out I’d been lying about it, they’d throw me out immediately. I had to make the commitment, but it would change everything; most of all, the way the other recruits interacted with me. As a psi, I’d become an outsider instead of one of the clan.

  ‘All right,’ I said, and sighed with feeling. ‘You probably know this already, but I’m a projecting telepath. Mid-level empath.’

  ‘Good.’ He scribbled on the tablet with his stylus, his emotions not changing at all. He’d already known I was a telepath. ‘That wa
s a deal-breaker, Corporal. If you didn’t tell us the truth, you’d be going back to the base.’

  ‘I can’t go back to the base anyway. You’ll tell the military that I’m psi, a freak. I’ll lose every single one of the friends I made there.’

  And Dianne, I added silently. The minute Dianne and Victor found out I was psi like my father – which I’d assured them many times I wasn’t – it would be over for us and I’d never see our baby.

  Commander Alto smiled lopsidedly through the facial prosthetic. ‘We don’t need to.’

  Everything came together in my head. ‘They know?’

  ‘Of course they do.’

  ‘Why didn’t they put me in the Corps then, like my father?’

  ‘Because it killed him. And we have rules about families. That’s why we’ve allowed you to lead a nondescript life as an infantry corporal, when with your skills, talents and intelligence you should really go to the Academy. You obviously made the choice to be unremarkable, and we respected that.’

  ‘But not now?’

  ‘You agreed to go on the Britannia, Corporal. You signed the contract.’

  ‘I suppose I did. Will I have psi training?’

  ‘You’ll be evaluated. You’ll still be one of the security officers; the telepathy is a bonus. Your main task will remain the same. We have yet to choose your secondary skill set, but you’re talented with equipment so perhaps engineering. You can help complete the ship’s construction. We need as many skilled hands as we can find.’

  ‘How many security officers will the ship have?’

  ‘We want twenty, but we’ll see how we go after the orbital training. The other security people keep quitting, saying it’s too hard. Do you have any other questions before we move you up to the ship? You have been fully briefed, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, sir. I cannot wait to see it.’

  ‘Your new home,’ he said. ‘Provided you can handle the microgravity until we have the habitat spinning.’ He picked up the tablet and swiped it. ‘Call home and say goodbye to your family. You’re going up in the elevator next Friday.’

  ‘That soon?’

  ‘You were one of the last to receive The Talk. We confirmed people who were more likely to drop out first, so we could be firm about the numbers.’

  ‘You were sure I wouldn’t drop out?’

  ‘Your supervisors often used the word “driven” to describe you,’ he said.

  ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

  ‘In this case, absolutely. Dismissed.’

  ‘This is Dr Dianne Liebowicz, thank you for calling me,’ Dianne said onscreen. ‘I’m not here right now, but leave a message and I’ll call you back.’

  ‘Hey, it’s me,’ I said. ‘I’m confirmed! I’m leaving next week, and I wanted to see how you’re doing. Call me back, okay? I called Victor, but he was probably using the grinder on his latest sculpture and never answered.’ I hesitated, searching for the words. ‘I love you,’ I added lamely, and disconnected.

  Dianne was busy with a postdoctoral study of heat-tolerant stonefruit, and was spending most of her time away from her tablet, up to her elbows in dirt. Both she and Vincent were buried in their work, same as me.

  I sighed and pinged Mum, and she answered immediately.

  ‘Jian!’ She smiled broadly at me. ‘Did you know you’re famous? They interviewed me!’

  ‘That’s great,’ I said. I took a deep breath and galloped through the words. ‘I was just confirmed. I go up to the ship next week.’

  She was silent for a long time, watching me. Emotions swept over her face: pride, loss, grief. ‘And no final hug goodbye?’

  I shook my head. ‘You know about the quarantine thing.’

  ‘Dammit, Jian. It’s really happening, isn’t it?’ She choked on the words.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said through my thick throat. ‘A few more days and I’ll be gone.’

  ‘Listen to me,’ she said sternly, seeing my distress. ‘You are doing something wonderful. I support you. Even if I can’t give you a real hug, I’m sending you a million virtual ones. I love you, Jian, and I am so proud of you. I agreed to this months ago, and I still agree.’ She put her hand on the camera lens, blacking out my view of her. ‘Go do great things. I am so proud.’

  There was a knock on the door. ‘Jian?’ Edwin said on the other side. ‘This is pretty urgent – can we talk?’

  ‘Just a minute,’ I said to him.

  ‘It’s okay, talk to your friend,’ Mum said, the screen still black. ‘You’re right: we’ll be in contact all the time anyway. I’m not losing you.’ She sniffed loudly, and spoke through her tears, ‘I love you.’

  ‘I love you too,’ I said, and she didn’t reply. ‘Mum?’

  She’d disconnected with the screen still black.

  I wiped my eyes with a tissue.

  Edwin rapped on the door again. ‘Let me in? I need to talk.’

  I went to the door and opened it.

  ‘Oh shit, sorry,’ he said, and sagged. ‘I came to say goodbye.’

  ‘What? Nearly three months of misery and you succeeded – and now you’re quitting? This isn’t like you. We’ll need talented people like you on board. You’re the best med –’

  He cut me off. ‘My father has cancer. If I’d been with them instead of here, I probably would have seen it.’

  ‘Oh, that’s awful. So you’re leaving?’

  ‘I need to take care of him, and my mother. My sister is with them, but I’m a doctor and they trust my judgement. The oncologist has given them a whole suite of treatment options and they can’t decide what to do. They need my advice. They need me there.’

  ‘I understand,’ I said. ‘I’m glad you found out before we hit the point of no return.’

  ‘My father didn’t want to tell me,’ he said bitterly. ‘He wanted me to go without knowing. I’m glad my sister had the sense to ignore him.’

  I put my hand out, and he shook it. ‘I’ll make sure to send you updates on how much we’re suffering.’

  ‘Don’t worry, the two remaining medtechs in my cohort will be doing that too,’ he said.

  I lowered my voice. ‘And I hope your dad will be okay.’

  ‘He won’t. That type of cancer has a very low survival rate, and they’ve been dithering about treatment for too long. He has about six months.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  He smiled sadly. ‘I’ll eat a big fat steak in your honour.’

  ‘I’ll take a photo of the stars in yours.’

  He nodded to me, wiped his eyes, and went out.

  I went to the window to watch the ferry arrive to take the last few dropouts home, then banged the sill with my fist. Nothing would stop me from doing this.

  The screen pinged behind me and I turned. It was Dianne. I sat and opened the comms. Her usually immaculately styled hair was a tangle, and she was wearing a scruffy T-shirt. She squinted at the camera.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ I said. ‘Are you sick?’

  ‘Not so much now I’m in second trimester. Oh.’ She smiled and looked down at something offscreen. ‘Nah. Not sick at all.’

  She wiggled sideways, and Victor’s face popped up next to her, just as scruffy.

  He grinned and ran his hand over his blond curls. ‘Since she hit second trimester all she wants to do is eat –’

  ‘And fuck!’ Dianne said in unison with him. ‘Something to do with the hormones. I don’t mind.’ She nudged him with her shoulder. ‘And neither does he.’

  Victor grinned his silly I’m-sleeping-with-two-women grin that always warmed my heart.

  ‘Your mum said I had to call you right away,’ Dianne said. ‘Did something happen?’

  ‘I’ve just been confirmed. I’m going up to the ship in the next few days.’

  Dianne broke down. She cast around, then grabbed the corner of the bedsheet and wiped her eyes. ‘I’m so proud of you,’ she said through the tears. Victor smiled indulgently. ‘So when are you moving up?’


  ‘I can’t tell you exactly. I’ll let you know when I’m there.’

  ‘Good,’ Dianne said. ‘I’m glad we won’t know when you’re going up. They’re keeping you safe. You are so important.’ She put her hand on her belly and looked down. ‘You hear that, kid? Your mum’s a hero.’

  ‘I’m a mum,’ I said softly.

  ‘Starmother,’ Victor said. ‘Don’t worry about Dianne. I’m looking after her, and I’ll look after our kid. You go save humanity.’

  ‘You are such a hero, Jian,’ Dianne said. She ran out into the kitchen. ‘I’m fine!’ she shouted. ‘Go! It’s just the hormones. I’m really proud!’

  ‘We’re both proud,’ Victor said. ‘And your kid will be as well.’

  ‘Don’t you go choosing a name for him or her without my input,’ I said sternly. ‘Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?’

  ‘Not yet, the ultrasound’s next week,’ Dianne said, coming back into the bedroom with a box of tissues. Her hair was even more bedraggled, and I’d never seen her look more beautiful.

  My tablet pinged. I was due for a sociology class.

  ‘I have to go,’ I said.

  ‘Go, lovely,’ Victor said. ‘We’re fine.’

  ‘We are,’ Dianne said. ‘Call us every day, okay? And if you give us some warning about when you’ll call …’ She smiled suggestively. ‘You can contribute to the hormone wrangling.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ I said. My tablet pinged again. ‘I have to go.’

  Dianne blew me a kiss as Victor kissed her on the cheek. ‘I love you!’

  ‘I love you too,’ I said. ‘Both of you.’

  ‘All three of us now!’ Victor said, just as Dianne switched the screen off.

  4

  On Friday, I packed my duffel with the basic kit and a few mementos from my life: a letter from Dianne, one of Victor’s little sculptures, and a couple of my mother’s handwritten recipes from the family in China that I would never have the chance to cook myself. I checked the room carefully, making sure I’d left nothing behind, then exited the building and joined my five fellow burgundy-clad security officers.

  Lieutenant Ng, in her black executive coverall, was waiting at the base of the steps that led up to the elevator pad. It was a bleak and miserable day with cold stinging rain, and we huddled to keep warm, stamping our feet.