by Mark Wandrey
He was instantly alert. “Oh, sure.”
“Remember that pickle we were in inside the Chosen compound?”
He just nodded.
“Good times,” she said, and turned back forward.
Behind her Gregg caught Dram’s eye. The big man cocked his head in curiosity. Gregg stretched his back and when he returned to rest, his hand landed on his holstered beamcaster pistol. It was a casual motion that none would mistake for hostile. Every combat trained human there caught the movement. Minu didn’t have to look, that would have been dangerous. She could sense the energy building behind her. A group of humans trained to kill, their skills honed over a lifetime of combat, and they were all instantly set on a hair trigger. One word from their leader and they’d unleash death and destruction, no matter the consequences.
A small door set in the side of the huge one opened. Minu hadn’t even noticed it was there. A sally port, she realized. Through it came a huge centipede with a tentacled clam riding on its back. Minu tried not to gawk, but it was the first time she’d seen a Goydook in person.
It stopped just through the doorway, long body turning in a semicircle, tiny legs moving rhythmically. The shell of the clam opened slightly and a multitude of cilia with eyes on them emerged. Half fixed on Minu, the other half on P’ing-so. Then it started making clicking, bubbling sounds that its own translator rendered into that same ancient form of script.
“Tog, you did not say it was a hominid species you are bringing before the Concordia.”
“It was not part of the presentation requirements,” P’ing-so said.
“We were never informed another hominid species was even being fostered.”
“Again, we are not required to inform you. Our stewardship of this species was registered, as was required of us. We have noted their debt is paid, and they are now petitioning for Awakening.”
Minu was absolutely certain that the Goydook did not know Minu could understand every word. She just stared at the alien and tried to give no sign she knew what it was saying. Of course she had no idea if it could even read human body language. Probably not, she decided, but kept up the poker face anyway.
“You Tog have always cause trouble,” the Goydook bubbled angrily. “Things are precarious enough. The T’Chillen and Mok-Tok are building new ships somehow. The Concordian council is holding its breath, wondering what is going to happen next”! Minu wondered how an aquatic held its breath. “And you bring a hominid, out of the blue.”
“Are you going to allow us the ritual, or do you intend to break hundreds of thousands of years of tradition?”
Minu watched the alien for any reaction. It was completely non-human, maybe one of the most so she’d ever met. There was really no way to know what it was thinking or feeling, even though the spoken script her mind was translating had emphasis tags, so she knew it was upset. She just didn’t know anything about them, except that they were one of the all power higher order species. She made a mental note to never underestimate these beings.
“You’re ritual begins in one quarter segment,” he said and turned its thousands of legs back the way it came.
P’ing-so led them through the door under the never tiring gaze of the warbots. Minu considered saying something, maybe just asking hser what was with the hate of hominids. She thought humans were pretty cool, actually. The problem with that plan was it put a card on the table she wasn’t willing to give up. Going into this able to speak and understand ancient script felt like sneaking into your parents’ bedroom in the middle of the night.
Through the doors the hallway angled slowly upwards. Minu had an increasing feeling of dread as slowly the sounds of innumerable voices could be heard from above. Still, the construction bothered her. This was the center of government. Seat of the mighty Concordia. The tunnel was making a hundred and eighty degree turn with an upward angle now. ‘Murder hole’ was running through her mind.
“What’s wrong?” Aaron whispered in her ear.
“I don’t know,” she said. “The way that Goydook reacted to us, the way this place is constructed like a redoubt… it all has me on edge. Just stay on your guard.”
Up ahead was another doorway like the one below, this one already open to allow them to pass. She completely missed the vista beyond as they approached, she was too busy studying the recessed weapons points and field projectors.
“I see what you mean,” Aaron said as he studied them as well.
“Oh my,” Bjorn said behind them. Minu thought he was referring to more of the defenses so she glanced back at him. He wasn’t looking at the walls, he was looking straight ahead. She turned and looked. Then she really looked. It took the breath from her in a long gasp.
It was easy to just think of its outward appearance as a dome. Domes were common in the Concordia, especially on worlds with unbreathable atmospheres. They were a naturally occurring design that was strong and resilient to most conditions. And when constructed of advanced materials like dualloy or moliplas, they were nearly indestructible to nature.
The capital dome was no normal dome. The structure was made up of isosceles triangles like many other large domes, many thousands of them, their connections of dualloy. But the material of the triangles looked like nothing Minu had ever seen before. It cast the light of Nexus’ sun through with an almost mesmerizing blue-green hue that brought to mind diving to the bottom of her swampy lake and looking up at the surface. It had appeared as metal or plastic from the outside. And there was no secondary support structure.
“What is it?” she wondered.
Bjorn and Ted were both shaking their heads.
“It must be incredibly strong,” Bjorn noted. “I’d love to get a sample!”
As they finished their ascent, they saw the floor of the chamber at last.
It was built inside like a vast amphitheater. Stacked rows upon rows of seating from the distant floor (obviously below ground level) reaching up a quarter of the way up the wall. Their tunnel emerged roughly halfway up one rank of seating, more or less in the middle of the sweep. The seating seemed to be ordered by some kind of priority or rank. Knowing the Concordia, that made sense. The closer to the floor, because of the curving nature of the seating design, the fewer places to sit.
Within each seating area were subdivisions. They varied greatly in size and style. Some were simple with only a pair of beings occupying them. Others were as large as houses with dozens of beings from several species occupying them. The floor was a wide open space made of the same blue-green crystal as the walls, semi circular, and about three hundred meters across. The back of the dome was dominated by an even more amazing spectacle.
It was a huge crystalline tree, vaguely reminiscent of the weeping willows Minu had seen in Summit territory. But this one had stronger leading branches that shot up to reach higher. The tree was the same crystal as the walls and the floor, and it appeared to grow into the same, almost holding up that side of the dome.
There were nineteen pedestals rising from the roots just below the truck, solid chunks of dualloy that looked harsh and out of place when put against the natural beauty of the crystal tree. Eighteen of them were the same height, maybe twenty meters tall, arrayed nine to a side in a semicircle. One in the center was a few meters taller, and it appeared to have once been painted. Minu thought she saw remnants of paint anyway, ancient and flaking. Not what she’d expected to see here.
Five of the pedestals were occupied. Their tops holding a podium of sorts where a being, or several, stood. Minu saw them all there. Mok-Tok, T’Chillen, Tanam, Goydook, and of course the Tog. These were the higher order species, the rulers of the Concordia. One more pedestal held a podium, but it was not occupied. The remainder were bare.
The lowest areas of seats also held the higher order’s main areas, six of them with one empty. The next level above that, Minu knew as the senior species. There were a scant couple dozen of those, most she had at least a passing acquaintance with. The section had room t
o hold five times that number. The Gulla were in view in a water filled section. One looked like an overgrown abandoned field, she couldn’t see anything inside. She spotted the Akala delegation. There was bad blood there.
And above that, the largest area, were the minor species. That area could have held a double handful of thousands. Craning her head like a tourist on her first trip to Tranquility, Minu came up with a ballpark estimate of under a thousand. There were maybe that many more boxes set up, with no occupants. As P’ing-so had explained, this was not important business taking place. Those present were either powerful, bored, or desperate. She wondered where that put humanity.
The most interesting were the ultra-rare exotics. Those that didn’t breathe oxygen, or to which oxygen was toxic. Their sections were usually a forcefield, or in a few cases a moliplas full enclosure. There were few of those, but Minu longed to know more about them. She imagined one day bringing a Weaver here.
She examined the layout and considered how species got where they were. The only way to get down from the high seats, become a more powerful senior species, was to foster younger species.
“We should proceed to our mission,” P’ing-so said, gesturing with one long fingered arm.
Placed along the curve of the walkways separating each section were what she’d thought was gathering areas. It turned out they were transportation. All of her entourage and honor guard fit with room to spare. P’ing-so spoke in hser native language and suddenly they took off as a group, all still standing together. It was an incredibly complicated hoverfield transport system. It made the drop shafts look low-tech by comparison. Only the Tog and Lilith seemed unimpressed.
The transport took them up and directly towards the higher order species area. It was an obvious display of power, flying right over the heads of everyone else to their destination. Minu couldn’t help but grin. It was good to have powerful friends.
They hovered over the edge of the Tog mission and the field deposited them individually, several at a time in their appropriate areas even, into the box. When it was done, it wasn’t quite crowded, but also not as spacious either.
Two other Tog were there waiting. One was Z’kal, the Tog’s head librarian. The other was unfamiliar to her.
“This is Go’kis,” P’ing-so said. “Hse is our formal representative to the Concordia. I speak for the Tog, Hse is like an ambassador on day to day business.”
“An honor to meet you, Concordian master,” Minu said and bowed. The entire human delegation bowed as well. Minu realized it would be the last time they ever did that as clients.
“It is an honor to meet our former First, and now Imperator of the humans. Fascinating title, I might add.”
“I would love to discuss the historical significance of that title,” Z’kal bulled in with uncharacteristic Tog bluntness. “I know your choice in basic logic, but in further use over the time of human history prior to orphaning—”
“Maybe later,” P’ing-so suggested, “after the ritual if time provides?”
Minu had to grin. She’d never really seen a Tog so obviously disappointed.
Z’kal nodded in a very human resignation.
“The high council is calling for attendance,” hse said and Minu turned to face the pedestals where the higher order species were holding court.
“Call to attendance the grand high council of our Concordia, all must come, all must respond!” The voice echoed directly from their translators. “T’Chillen!”
“We sit,” answered a snake from their pedestal.
“Mok-Tok!”
“We sit.”
“Tog!”
“We sit,” answered Go’kis.
“Tanam!”
“We sit,” answered Veka from the pedestal. Minu didn’t know how she knew it was that particular Tanam, she just knew it. Maybe because the voice had a slightly mechanical sound to it, since she used a cybernetic tongue. Oh, this was going to be special.
“Goydook!”
“We sit.”
“Poolab!” Only silence answered. “The Poolab will respond!”
Minu took her tablet from its holster and accessed it. The Poolab looked like little seahorses in a fishbowl. So two higher order species were aquatics, which was interesting. “Where are they?” she asked Go’kis.
“They have only appeared at council intermittently for the last thousand years,” hse explained, “a century ago, they stopped entirely.”
“Has anyone been to their planet to check on them,” she said half joking.
“They are a very old species,” Z’kal explained. “Their business interests were handled by allies and released clients. When a species gets that old, sometimes they simply fall asleep.”
“How can an entire species fall asleep?”
“That must be an issue with your language. The thought concept is more complicated. They enter a never ending period of inner reflection. Often contemplating high mysteries of philosophy, extreme technology, or even religion in rare cases.” Z’Kal shrugged, they’d adapted the humanism as something they enjoyed for expressing unsureness. P’ing said being unsure was one things humanity excelled at.
“What happens if they don’t return?” Minu asked.
“In another year, their seat will be emptied, and only five will sit the council.”
“Why aren’t new species elevated to the higher order?”
“That, is a very good questions,” P’ing-so said, but added nothing more to it.
“The Poolab do no sit! Let the records record this. This council is seated. Presiding are the Tog.”
“We pass because of business before the Concordia,” Go’kis spoke.
“Noted! The Tanam come before us to lead the council next.”
“This was unfortunate but unavoidable,” P’ing-so told Minu. “However what comes is more ritual, than a matter of council deliberation. Precedents are powerful things, even to the Tanam.”
“We will hold this responsibility,” the Tanam spoke. Minu was now positive that it was Veka up there on that pedestal.
“That’s the bitch that interrogated me after capture,” Aaron whispered in her ear, confirming Minu’s conclusion. “I’d recognize that voice anywhere.”
“We had… words over you a couple years ago on Coorson,” Minu remarked. “I’m sure the kitty cat is over that by now.”
A short time passed as the council was asked to approve mundane items that only had agenda numbers. Minu didn’t bother looking them up. As if the bomb P’ing dropped on her a short time ago wasn’t enough, having Veka running the Concordia today was pretty much the icing on the cake.
She spent the time examining the magnificent crystal tree while the meaningless drudgery of daily government proceeded. Now that they were closer and below the tree instead of observing from a distance, the light coming through looked more blue than anything. It made her head hurt, for some reason.
Above and behind her the gallery of species were almost loud enough to drown out the amplified voices of the Concordia council and announcer.
“Higher order business,” the announcer boomed. “Who comes before this council?”
“We do,” Go’kis said.
“Speak,” Veka ordered from across the floor and above.
“We are the Tog, and today we bring before the Concordia our clients. A species we have cared for and brought to their own. Call them humans.”
“Come forth, as prescribed by tradition,” the announcer spoke. Go’kis gestured and Minu took a breath.
“Ready,” she said.
Minu, all her Legates, and Sergeant Selain were borne aloft on one of those autonomous lifts that had brought them there.
“Good luck,” Aaron said. Minu turned and winked at him. Mindy watched her mother float away with eyes wide with fright.
“Momma will be fine!” Minu said loudly before they were too far away.
The group was lifted high enough to clear the Tog enclosures low walls, then forward and down
to the blue-green crystalline floor. Minu had practically grown up with the Concordian technology. She trusted it almost more than anyone she knew. Pip might have trusted it more. Of course Lilith trusted it utterly.
When the invisible lifting fields got within a step of the floor Minu confidently stepped forward. People watching ten thousand light years away on Bellatrix would say she strode forward like she owned the place. Some would say she swaggered. In a hundred thousand homes people cheered. Minu Groves was on deck. This would be good.
Minu’s first thought was being grateful the floor wasn’t as slick as it appeared. How would that have looked to sprawl face first in front of the whole galaxy? Her second thought was how well the entire setup was designed. The Concordian council was many meters above them, and the audience floor was vast and empty. She had the sudden memory of being a tiny girl crawling in their apartment’s kitchen and looking up, up, up to the table which seemed an infinite height above her.
She was aware of P’ing-so next to her, easily keeping pace with hser four legs. “Twenty meters out,” she’d been instructed, “stop and bow into the posture of total respect.”
Minu stopped and went prostrate on the floor, lowering her head to touch the floor. All the humans did the same, Bjorn with some difficulty, while P’ing-so bent only at hser centaur waste just slightly.
“These are humans, our clients,” hse announced loudly, hser voice amplified by the auditorium somehow, “honorable and true they have been. Their debt is paid, their service complete.”
“Do you offer any objection to their petition?” asked the anonymous voice.
“None.”
“Leave us,” Veka growled.
P’ing-so, hser duty completed, offered the same bow to the pedestals as before, then turned to Minu and offered another. Minu wondered, was it slightly deeper? She couldn’t tell, she was still prostrate on the floor and could only barely see hser. A moment later a field buoyed hser up and towards the Tog’s pedestal where they ruled.
“Humans,” the announcing voice spoke, “you have honorably met your obligations to your masters and they are not standing in your way to Awakening. Rise and face your future.”