by Chad Huskins
Just then, a door opened behind him, and in walked Trix. “I have finished my patrol of all communications rooms, Master. Is there anything else you require?”
After taking care of the Dannings loose end, Trix had returned to Kalder by shuttle while IX Legion had been withdrawing their forces from Widden. It had been luck that the bot had come back from its missions during that time, but Kalder had made sure to keep the bot’s return somewhat of a secret, and stored the thing in a closet in his office most days. It wasn’t until the clunky bots that were on lone from the Brotherhood had started filling the corridors that he felt safe letting the TRX roam around on its own, confident it would be seen as just another on-loan appliance.
Trix had been useful in hampering communications, and keeping the QEC systems in a general state of disrepair. The bot was key to Kalder’s plans now, but soon its memory would need to be wiped, for it knew too much.
“It’s fine for now, Trix. Please shut down for the night and recharge.”
“Yes, Master.”
Once the bot had locked itself in the closet, Kalder looked back over at Julian. “How is our High Priestess?”
“Not very happy, I’m afraid. She demands to be kept in the loop, and she’s angry at not being able to bring along her uk’tek guards.”
“Have her be at the meeting with the Repentant Designate later.”
His apprentice looked taken aback. “Why?”
“Because they both have a few things in common, they both enjoy self-defilement, they’re both women, and they’re both leaders of their own religious orders. Two of those three things mean they will hate each other immediately, and in my experience such moments permit me to enjoy a neutrality that the faithful desperately want to see in others. It lets them think they can get their claws in.” He added, “And, as it turns out, there may be something they can offer each other, to all our benefits.”
NOT EVEN KALDER knew what the Repentant Designate had done to deserve her punishment. No one did. But there was a saying about her, almost as famous as the thing they said about Kalder. They said, Imagine the worst possible crime you can. She did that. Many times.
Kalder knew a little bit about the woman. He knew she came from a penal world, one filled with open-air prisons. A barely habitable world, where plant life could find no purchase, and where inmates wandered the darkened landscape, scraping a living off rocks. She had somehow survived on a world where there were no spaceports, no markets or landing platforms. Even the shuttle that brought her to the planet didn’t touch down, just hovered ten feet off the ground and dumped her.
Abalteshchi, it was called. An abysmal planet, cracked into three huge pieces that rotated around a common center of mass, the result of some unknown cataclysm that befell it millennia ago. Some said it happened in the Sixth Unknowns War.
The prisoners of Abalteshchi lived on the one chunk that had the most breathable atmosphere, and used what few supplies were dropped every month to try and fortify and preserve the prefab shelters that had been dropped from orbit centuries before. Small cities had formed in the hills, tunnels dug out by murderers and rapists.
Somewhere in those tunnels, some say, she found one of the Sisters of Jain. Jain was one of the Three Goddesses of Mercy. Anyone who followed those Three usually picked one to favor. Jainists were extreme pacifists. When they walked, they made sure to look down, lest they step on an insect. When they drank, they made sure to put a cloth between their lips and the cup, lest they should accidentally swallow a bug. Jainists were the most extreme, and though they did not demand all others to follow their example, they did ask that all others respect them. The goddess Jain was the sister of ultimate penance. The worst beings chose her, whether they knew it or not, the moment they committed their heinous acts.
The woman had proven herself a hard worker to the other inmate colonists. They came to respect her, and admired her pacifism, even after she had been tortured by other inmates for decades. She held no grudges, and did not orchestrate revenge against any of her enemies. In time, most of her tormentors became her tearful followers, weeping at her feet as they begged for Jain’s mercy.
Drone cams kept a watchful eye over Abalteshchi, and occasionally a prisoner was yanked off the planet to join the Brotherhood of Contrition. It took decades of supremely penitent behavior to even be permitted a role in their charity missions. For the first decade or so, all she had done was being the Head Sister of Jain on long missions. But eventually, the woman named Sarah Wang had risen to the level of Repentant Designate.
The eldery woman was no prison warden, nor was she a guard, nor a spiritual advisor any longer. She was now a councilwoman, whose decades-long show of penance had put her in a position answerable only to the Penal Host. As Repentant Designate, it was her job to assemble crews by selecting the most promising examples from penal worlds across the galaxy, train them, and show them that there was still something worthwhile to do with their lives.
Kalder sat in the High Priestess’s room, looking over at Zane, who was resplendent in her usual attire, with freshly cut scars etched into her right hand. The only thing missing was her mask. The Face of Mahl hung from the wall over her bed. It looked as though Zane had quite settled in. The room had curtains along the walls, even though it had no windows.
“How much of an extension are you asking for?”
Kalder glanced over at the Repentant Designate’s face hovering on the wall beside him. She looked even older than Kalder, her wrinkles had wrinkles, and her left eye had been replaced by an oculator.
“We agreed that your ships would be with us for at least the trip to Eaton,” he said. “That is still four months away. Perhaps longer if Taka-Renault does not go well. So I would like to extend our partnership beyond Eaton.”
“First, I’d finally like to know what it is about the Eaton System that has you so enthralled,” said the Repentant Designate.
“Is it necessary to know everything? You’ve already received reimbursement from the Aid Centers, as was promised. As long as your ships aid us, you will continue to have support from the Consulship.”
She reached to something off screen, grabbed a cloth, put it over her lips, and took a swing of water. When she was finished, she wiped her mouth delicately. “The food and supplies have so far been sufficient, but I must think long-term how to best use my people. The Sisters of Jain expect me to watch over our unworthy brothers and sisters, and make sure their penance is used wisely.”
“I don’t mean to be crass, but it’s my understanding that part of their penance is to constantly starve. The food we’ve sent you—”
“The food you’ve sent is barely enough to keep them going, which, as it turns out, is all they need. But we do require other supplies. Food and meds and parts. Things that keep an army going.”
“Which is one of the reasons I asked the High Priestess to join us,” said Kalder, turning towards Zane. “You’ve been in contact with your thanes, yes?”
Zane looked at him with eyes the color of an ocean during a storm. She still had not forgiven him his two insults, one a physical assault, and the other a public rebuke. “I have,” she said.
“And with the help of Second Fleet and the Aid Centers, they have reopened production on almost every main factory in Phanes, isn’t that right?”
“It is. Only Honagher remains decimated.”
“Would you allow me to broker a deal between your two parties?” he said. “Between yourself and the Brotherhood, I mean.”
“To what end?” Zane said warily. The woman followed Mahl, who enjoyed nothing better than defilement and deception. Pain and lies. Humiliation and obfuscation. For this reason, she believed all others were trying to bend her over and fuck her, just as she intended to do to all others.
“To craft an alliance of shared principles,” Kalder said. “It wouldn’t have to include the Republic at all. However, if you both would permit me to write up the letter of the agreement, you might show your apprec
iation with increased support. Or, at the very least, support that goes beyond Eaton.”
“What do you suggest?” asked the Repetant Designate.
“Phanes is a system that has long been closed off. They would do well to open up the arteries of trade, as High Priestess Zane and I have already discussed. Widden itself is ripe and bountiful, not just with ices, but with untapped fields, waiting to be transformed into farmlands—”
“Those fields are a part of Widden’s beauty,” Zane put in. “They are a part of what keeps Widden a garden world. We sequester our people and their businesses into one of four cities, all else is awaiting Mahl’s whim.”
“His defilement,” Kalder said. “Yes. Some distant day you believe when he will smite all of Creation, starting with Widden. I’m familiar with the Ragnarok-style doom you predict for yourself and all your people. And while Man’s present circumstances have me inclined to believe such a thing possible, I am not yet ready to give in, and I also understand that you believe in something called the raiz eternaes—the ‘eternal plight’, in which you must struggle, in vain, to stave off the End Times for as long as possible. Mahl’s great test to you.”
“Which we are destined to fail.”
“Yes, but you strive to succeed. This open trade with the Brotherhood would embolden new markets in Phanes, and would bring a prosperity that Mahl would find a terrible obstacle in his mission to destroy you. It would also please him to see the defilement of such virgin grasslands, would it not? I understand the defilement of virgins is something you’ve practiced personally.”
If venom could have been transmitted by a gaze, Kalder would have been stricken dead. Zane’s eyes bore into him, indicating she didn’t like that he knew so much about her and her faith. It left her naked, and rendered her deceptions impotent. She will count this as a third insult.
Before she could speak, the Repentant Designate said, “If what you say is true, Kalder, then I mislike any congress with a woman who would view our business relationship as a means to defile. It sullies the whole affair, especially if you say she enjoys hurting people, or…‘defiling’ virgins.”
Now Zane assumed a playful smile. “I’m sure you’re quite familiar with degradation and humiliation, Repentant Designate.”
“It’s different for us. We use it to tear down the ego, so that the subject is open to the truth.”
“How interesting, we do it for the very same reason,” Zane said.
“Somehow I think your version of truth is not conducive with ours, Governor.”
“You won’t know until you try it.”
“Ladies, please,” Kalder intervened. “I did not invite you here to debate theology—”
“Then you have made a grave error,” Zane shot at him. “For all matters of state begin with the faith.”
“In that,” said the Repentant Designate, “we are in total agreement.”
“How happy we have found common ground,” Kalder said. “Let us build on this new shared understanding, then, by discussing resources. The Brotherhood wants more of them, and the Phanes System is replete with them. Now, the Crusade will require continuation after Eaton, I’m sure, but the Committee may find reasons to cease the Crusade there. Who can say? Funding is bound to come up when that happens. If interest wanes before then, if public sentiment cools, then there will be no pressure to continue funding the Crusade, no reason to keep Second and Tenth Fleet ships away from their homes. But if we have promises of support from the Brotherhood, that might incline them to continue on.”
Zane snorted. “You want us to pay your debts for you.”
The Repentant Designate nodded. “And you want us to provide you a reason to keep something going that perhaps should stop after Eaton.”
When he was first entering the Course of Honors, Kalder remembered one of his mentors telling him, A weak woman knows what she wants and needs a man to let her know it’s okay. A strong woman knows what she wants, too, but will despise a man for telling her first. He wasn’t sure how much he agreed with that, but he did allow it to shift his tact.
“I want us all to get what we want,” Kalder corrected. “Governor Zane, you and I both have a rather, eh, personal reason for wanting to see where this expedition leads. Tell me why you wouldn’t benefit from greater involvement from the Brotherhood.”
The Designate said, “You assume the Brotherhood has the resources to keep lending you ships, that somehow, if Widden could begin supplying us, I could keep those ships there with you, and not have a problem in other sectors.”
“Oh, I believe you have more resources than you let on.”
“How so?”
A chime went off on the holotab in his pocket, and in his right periphery a little alert told him it was an incoming message from Julian.
“Tell me, how did you arrive at Phanes so quickly?” Kalder asked. “My captains are befuddled, and I admit to some confusion myself. Your fleet was at least as far away as ours when we were at Monarch, and yet you reached Phanes well ahead of us.”
The Designate smirked. “What are you suggesting, Senator?”
“There are only two possibilities. Either you have some method of transportation that somehow outdoes Republican A-drives, or else your fleet is much larger than you’ve let on, and you have more local space covered than you’ll admit.” He nodded. “I think it’s the latter. I think you’ve purposely kept the true size of your fleet secret, out of fear that, here at the Fall of Man, everyone would be clambering to take them from you if they knew.” He gestured over at Zane. “The High Priestess is impressed by your deception, I’m sure.”
“I certainly would be,” said Zane, suddenly looking very intently at the Designate.
“We have more ships,” the Designate allowed. “But I cannot say how many. It’s…what do you say in politics? The situation is fluid?”
Kalder nodded. “Some days you take from pirates, and convert them, and some days your own people turn on you and convert back to privacy. I understand. But I believe you have some idea of the overall size. Penal colonies are not as closely watched over as they were a hundred years ago, you’ve had time to expand without oversight committees breathing down your neck. You’ve taken advantage and used the tool of religion to wrest what control you have.”
“I don’t admit to any of it.”
“You’d be a fool if you did,” Kalder said. “In any case, I believe I have spoken enough to open a dialogue. Would you both agree to having interest?”
Zane looked over at Kalder begrudgingly, then back at the Designate. “I would.”
“Yes,” said the Designate.
“How happy. Then I will leave you both to it,” he said, standing up. “I’ll have Julian draw something up, and send it to both of you. In the meantime, you two may discuss any details you would like me to address in future drafts of the agreement.” At the door, he added, “Oh, and though your two philosophies beseech you to be deceptive at times, my own demands that I be honest. So I’ll just remind you that everything you say is being monitored and recorded. Good evening, ladies.”
As soon as he stepped out into the hallway, Kalder pulled up the message from Julian. It read:RAMLOCK AND ARK OF THE REDEEMED HAVE RETURNED. BROOD SIGHTING IN TAKA-RENAULT. THE SYSTEM’S CIVILIZATION IS BEING DESIGNATED “ANTEGRADE POST-APOCALYPSE RECOVERY”. MEETING WITH THE CAPTAINS IN ONE HOUR.
He sent an acknowledgment, and seconds later Julian gave him a call. The apprentice’s face hovered in front of him. “I’ve let the captains know you’ll be sitting in on the call.”
“What’s their mien?” asked Kalder.
“Well, at the moment, I’d say they’re all pretty concerned. Being cut off from Second’s Visquain makes them feel headless, I guess. That’s what I’m gathering from some of their chatter, anyway.”
As a security bot, Trix had a gift for infiltrating systems, and the same programming that allowed him to fix QEC transceivers allowed him to disrupt them, too, and helped him to patch Kal
der and Julian in to almost all key communications in Crusade Fleet.
“Well, it may finally be time to give them the head they need,” said Kalder, sensing that the time was right. And why not do it now, with Faith 6A showing such high approval for the Crusade?
“Sir, there’s something else.”
“What is it?”
“I just got word from the Vigiles on Monarch. They found Thulm, and they’re holding him in custody until you can speak with him. So far, he hasn’t been any trouble, since he’s just glad to finally have an audience with you.”
Kalder nodded. “First the meeting with the captains, then we’ll find out who this Thulm character is, and more important, who his lord and savior d’Arhagen is.”
: SDFA Mercy’s Caress
“Wake your ugly arse up,” Durzor said. “We’re about to see some action.”
Lyokh didn’t need reminding. Or perhaps he did. For the first few seconds after he woke up, time was meaningless. It had been this way for a full week, ever since Morkovikson had brought him to the Brotherhood ship, which had on board the grandest and most sweeping med bay setup Lyokh had ever seen.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. The cold floor against his feet was bracing. Pain exploded through his head in radiating waves, there and gone. Whorls of light curtained his vision, then dissipated. He looked out the nearest window at the darkness. The s’Dar Watchtower was still there, still unfolding and shaping, though now the changes were much smaller. Tiny panels expanding, doors rotating and changing position.
“It’s still going?” he asked groggily.
“It hasn’t stopped,” said Durzor, rolling his wheelchair over to the window.
“Has anybody gone near it?”
“No. But the radiation levels have dropped. Still dangerous for a team, but the drones are surviving just fine. Couple of EyeSpys went really deep. Sensor room’s been working around the clock to map it. It’s got everybody in PI going shit-crazy, I hear.”
“I can see why,” he said, stepping away from the bed and reacquainting himself with time and space. His depth perception was a little off, when he reached for the windowsill he missed it by an inch, but then recovered. “Jesus, it’s huge now. I mean, it was huge before, but this…”