Exodus: Empires at War: Book 11: Day of Infamy (Exodus: Empires at War.)

by Doug Dandridge

  “Send them the information,” ordered the Captain, watching the ships closely on the plot. If everything went well the destroyers would fly past them and continue on to wherever they were going. If they grew suspicious they would have a two minute window to savage the freighter with their lasers. They would not have as much luck as they thought, but they would still be within missile range. And there were two of them.

  The Captain looked back at the Overlord, watching as the male set his jaw. So, he’s nervous as well, though he wouldn’t let such feelings show to such an inferior species as ourselves.

  “The destroyer is asking for visual.”

  The Captain stepped over so the Ca’cadasan wouldn’t be in the image. “Open visual.”

  “This is Commander Leticia Romero of the Corman,” said the olive skinned young woman on the holo. “Your name, destination and business please.”

  “This is Captain Tom Jasper. Laughing Troll is on a course for the Jewel system. We are empty at the moment, but have been promised a cargo at the Capital planet.”

  That was something easy to fake at this time. Since the start of war, the amount of traffic into most of the core worlds had tripled. It would be believable enough that a tramp would be heading into one of the busiest systems in the Empire looking for a cargo.

  Some moments passed as the image of the Captain of the destroyer looked off holo. The crew sweated, waiting for the decision. The Captain prepared himself to order the deployment of the weapons systems. He thought he could take two destroyers, but it wasn’t a given. Even if he won the fight, Fool’s Bane could get savaged.

  “Fool’s Bane. You are cleared to proceed.”

  “Thank you, Commander Romero,” said the Captain, trying not to let his relief show on his face. He wondered how much their clearance had to do with no suspicion on the part of the Imperial officer, and how much on they were just in a hurry to get to where they were going, and didn’t want to waste the time decelerating and coming back for something that wasn’t that suspicious.

  The holo blanked, and the Captain turned to stare at the tactical plot as the destroyers first drew even with his ship and then passed. It took almost twenty minutes for them to disappear from the plot, out of sensor range, and that was when the Captain allowed himself to breathe easy again.

  “Good job, Captain,” said the Overlord, giving a head motion of acceptance. “Continue your course. I will be in my quarters.” With that the male turned and left.

  He wants to spend as little time as possible with the lower species, thought the Captain with a huff. He glared at the closing hatch of the bridge, then turned back to look at the plot, zooming out to see the entire course. He wished he could take full advantage of his ship’s capabilities and bound ahead to point nine five light, but he didn’t want to take the chance, the Overlord present or not. To his thinking, the sooner he could get to the target and get the mission over with, the better. He amended that thought after a moment, remembering that this mission was likely to be at the end of a one-way trip.

  * * *

  ELYSIUM EMPIRE HOME WORLD, DECEMBER 3RD, 1002.

  “Welcome, Lord Grarakakak,” said Archduke Horatio Alexanderopolis. Meeting the slender avian being in the study outside his office. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?”

  Alexanderopolis was a stocky man of middle age, just over a hundred and eighty, and had been the Ambassador to the older Empire for more than two decades. In that time he had become one of the few humans who was actually fluent in the tongue of the dominant Brakakak, a series of crackles, hisses and whistles that were difficult for the human language producing apparatus to reproduce. The Ambassador had found it very useful to understand the cultures of the people he had to deal with, including the language.

  “I wish to speak in private, Ambassador,” replied the High Lord in his own language. Grarakakak could also speak fluent terranglo, but their game was whoever started the conversation in the other’s language directed the speech to that tongue.

  Horatio nodded, gesturing toward the bar. He understood what the leader of the Empire was talking about. Despite all the high tech safeguards used for personal government communications, people still tapped into top secret communications.

  Horatio mixed drinks for the both of them. The High Lord loved human bourbon. In fact, it was one of the biggest exports from the New Terran Empire to Elysium.

  “What’s on your mind, High Lord?” asked the Ambassador, handing the Brakakak lord his drink, then taking a seat across the table from the avian.

  The slender graceful being took a sip of his drink, his flexible beak opening and closing in pleasure as he placed the glass on the side table. “Nectar of the Gods,” said the High Lord. He leaned forward in the seat that hadn’t exactly been built with his people in mind. “There will be a vote in council tomorrow about the war, your Excellency.”

  “So I have heard,” replied Horatio, placing his own drink on a side table lest he spill it on himself if the coming news was too disturbing.

  “The vote will go against the war,” said the High Lord, giving a very human head shake. “I have one vote on my side, but the other three are adamant about leaving the war.”

  “But, why?” asked Horatio, thinking now that putting his drink down had been a good idea. “Surely they understand the threat.”

  The High Lord looked embarrassed, sitting there in silence for a moment. Horatio knew that the Brakakak were the dominant species of the Empire. They were on the average the more intelligent of the species, and their culture the far superior. They made up almost thirty-five percent of the population, by far the largest proportion. But the Empire’s government was built around the concept of representation for all species. There were five seats on the supreme council, and each went to a member of the five most representative species. There was a lower council that actually made the laws, also in proportion to the percentage of the population each species commanded. The Brakakak were the largest percentage by far, the next most numerous species only commanding twenty-one percent of the seats. Unfortunately, the Brakakak did not command a majority in either the upper or lower councils. If they did not make deals with other species, basically nothing got done in the Empire.

  “I think most of them understand the threat,” said the High Lord, looking away for a moment, then back into the eyes of the human he called friend. “But some of them also feel that your Empire will become just as big a threat in the future, after this current war is over.”

  “We have never been expansionist,” said Horatio, knowing that what he said was not quite true. The early Empire was very much an expansionist state, even when they didn’t plan to be. Wars were fought, new territories were acquired, sometimes by accident, sometimes to prevent a species that saw itself as the injured party from rising again to threaten humanity. “At least in recent history.”

  “The Lasharans might not agree with that statement,” said the High Lord, giving his species’ equivalent of a frown. “But I have to agree that your Empire has shown remarkable restraint over the last couple of centuries. Not everyone in my government agrees. They think you are spending the lives of our people so that you don’t have to lose your own. They feel you will weaken our forces, then use your enlarged military to conquer.”

  “And what can we do to change their minds?”

  “I’m not sure we can change their minds. But some concessions might help.”

  And here we go, thought the Ambassador. “Like what?”

  “There is much concern about your wormhole technology, as well as your other methods of instantaneous communications.”

  “We share our com net with your forces.”

  “Yes, by placing your ships with our task groups, and allowing us to talk through your com net. Some of the leaders in our military feel this gives you the ability to censor our communications. Even if you are not doing that now, it gives you the ability to do so.”

  “We have reopened a c
om and passenger gate into this system, High Lord. And what about the ship gate between your largest shipyard and the Donut system?”

  “Some would argue that this serves only your Empire.”

  “So giving your military some of their own wormholes would change the vote?”

  “It would help, but maybe not enough. I realize you are stretched thin, and we could not expect being equipped with wormholes to the same extent as your own fleet. But at least one on every task group command ship. And some of your instantaneous com specialists on flagships down to the squadron level, if not individual vessels.”

  “I cannot guarantee that we will give you what you want. That’s up to the Emperor, and might be something better left for the upcoming summit.”

  “I understand that, Ambassador,” said the High Lord, his expression showing embarrassment. “However, if we vote tomorrow to withdraw our forces, then they will be withdrawn until at least the summit, if not beyond.”

  “I don’t think the Emperor is going to like this, Lord Grarakakak.”

  “And I am sorry that your leader will not like a decision our sovereign government makes.”

  “And I thought you were on our side.”

  “Oh, I am, Ambassador. I want you to win this war. I want your Empire to go on being good neighbors with my people. I definitely don’t always agree with my own government, but I am charged with being the face of that government, and must bring their concerns and decisions to you.”

  “Okay. I will let the Emperor know what your fellow Lords require for continued cooperation. I’m not sure what he will be able to do, since he must also work through Parliament.”

  “And we both know that he has a lot more power to do what he wants in wartime.”

  Horatio nodded. The High Lord knew of what he spoke. There were checks and balances in the Imperial government, and the power of the Emperor was limited, except during war. Then he became the ultimate power in the Empire, though he still had some limitations.

  “Anything else?”

  “We would also like a discussion about giving us some of your wormhole weapon systems on the table. Oh, not the actual hardware, except for some examples we can use to engineer our own. And the plans and schematics of the technology.”

  And that will go over really well with Parliament, thought the Ambassador, shaking his head. There’ll likely be some heart attacks when they hear this.

  “I’ll talk to the Emperor and see what we can do. You understand that the Klassekians have an agreement with our government to serve in our military. They would have to volunteer to do the same with yours.”

  “I understand. Hopefully we can work something out.”

  Good thing we’re not expecting an attack anytime soon, thought the Ambassador as he led the High Lord out of the sitting room. Of course, this was war, so the unexpected happened all the time.

  * * *

  CAPITULUM, JEWEL.

  It wasn’t the most exclusive jewelry store in Capitulum. That was reserved for the moderately rich, and entry was by invitation only. Of course, the nobility and the very rich didn’t shop for their jewelry in stores. They had their pieces made to order. But Newmans was as exclusive as someone of Tomas Gijardo’s wealth and status could afford.

  “I would like to see that one,” he said to the clerk, pointing to a one carat ring in the case.

  “A good choice, sir,” said the Malticon clerk, barely able to look over the counter from his one meter and a third height. His species looked as close to human as possible, with the exception of some differences to his limb joints and fingers. They fit into human society much easier than most species, and there had to be a couple of hundred million of them in the city.

  Wonder if you say that to everyone, no matter their choice? thought Gijardo, taking the ring from the humanoid hand and turning it to catch the light. I think I can afford this, and I think she’s worth it.

  Tomas was an up and coming business analyst with one of the largest firms in the city, which made it one of the largest in the Empire. Someday he would be a big name in the firm, and then he might be one of those who ordered specialty jewelry. But for now this was all he could afford.

  “I’ll take it,” he told the clerk. From the return smile he wondered if the being was getting a commission on the sale. He swiped his wrist over the sensor, authorizing the transaction through his implant. As far as he knew it was a foolproof system, safe from any hackers or cyber criminals that might still exist in this day and age. What criminals there were still made a living, but not from preying on people’s savings and bank accounts.

  Tomas walked from the store and onto the street, his eyes taking in the sights of the city. This section of Capitulum was made up of towering megascrapers, reaching thousands of meters into the sky, each taking up an entire city block. Interspersed among them were small parks, also city block sized, bringing slices of nature into the urban landscape. The streets were busy, swarming with people about their business. All of the buildings boasted lines of street side stores, from individual specialty shops like the jewelers, to mega department stores that took up the second and third stories of the buildings. Above those stores were business offices, belonging to accountants, lawyers, lobbyists and others. And above those in most of the buildings were the apartments of the people who worked here.

  Many of the stores advertised the upcoming Christmas holiday, an event that had been adopted by many of the alien citizens. Some because they had converted to one of the Christian denominations of the humans, most because everyone enjoyed a good party, and Christmas was a great segue into the New Year’s/Empire Day holiday. Holoboards lit up with the news of sales, competing with the propaganda grams trying to arouse the patriotism of the people.

  Tomas knew that the Empire was at war. Things were bad in Sector IV, and in the other human polities. Some core worlds had been hit, hard. People were dying, and some resources were becoming scarce as they were funneled into military production. But here in the capital they were still safe and sound. Food, clothing and energy were plentiful, and if there were fewer new aircars on the market, that was something Tomas could live with.

  No way they’re going to get me in uniform, he thought as he walked into the building that housed his firm. That was for the little people, those who didn’t work for one of the most powerful corporations in the Empire. He would be protected through the entire war, while others went to fight, so he could continue his rise to power within the organization.

  He took the private lift to the firm’s floor, thankful to finally get away from the crowds. Sometimes he wished he lived on one of those frontier worlds, where every day was an adventure. Then he remembered the war, and was happy to be living in a place that was untouchable.

  Later that evening Tomas took the lift up to his luxury apartment. Space was not a concern in this society, and even people on the dole had at least a hundred square meters of living space in Capitulum. Tomas’ living space was much larger, over nine hundred square meters divided among two bedrooms and bathrooms and a large central gathering area. Which included a good sized balcony, on which he sat with a drink, enjoying the evening. The wind screen was up at the moment, holding out the rush of air that ran between the buildings most of the time. Still, it was a pleasant evening, the sun reflecting from the surfaces of the buildings around his.

  Megascrapers rose around him, towers thin or flattened to give most of the apartments within a view of the outside world. It was a fairy tale landscape of impossibly fragile looking buildings rising above the clouds. They looked fragile, but with modern materials they were anything but. Off in the distance was a large archology, a thousand meters high, covering over two million square meters of ground space. The majority of the apartments in that structure did not have an outside view. They either opened onto the inner courtyards, or used smart screens to recreate the outdoors. Tomas actually thought the smart screens did a better job than an actual window, no matter how large, since the vie
w could be changed to whatever the occupant wanted. But there was status in having an actual physical portal on the world at large.

  And with smart screens one could screen out all of the advertising hanging in the air around the city. Holos were everywhere, at street level, up in the sky. Some were just generalized boards, but some actually took their cues from whomever was looking at them and displayed targeted ads. Tomas wasn’t really sure how that worked, since their implants were supposed to be shielded from direct taping. The holos did light up the town at night, much like the old video boards he had seen on the history vids, and that added color to the city, though he wished there was a little less of it.

  Tomas’ implant warned him that it was time to get ready to go out. He thought about his coming date with the love of his life, checking out a new club in one of the older sections of the city, where all the buildings were low rises, though tastefully historic in nature. First they would eat at a small bistro where he had reservations, thanks to some name dropping of his bosses. Then the club, where they could dance and talk to the wee hours of the morning.

  It was a good life to Tomas’ way of thinking. And one he planned on enjoying as long as he had youth on his side. He thought about his great grandfather, a man who had lived over three hundred years, and was currently in a hospital, expected to die at any time. He visited regularly, something he saw as a familial duty. Hospitals were more or less places for people to die. Medical science was advanced enough that long hospital stays were almost unheard of for normal citizens.

  We pay too much for hospitals and clinics as it is, thought the young man, walking out of his apartment and calling for a taxi on his implant, ordered to meet him on the rooftop landing pad. People are healthier than ever, he thought, getting in the lift and commanding it to go up, hoping there wouldn’t be too many stops along the way. Humankind suffered none of the genetic disorders that had plagued it in the past; diabetes, hypertension, cancers, heart disease. Only someone who really wanted to became overweight. And it took an exceptional microbe to last more than a couple of hours in a nanite protected body. But government insisted on having more than enough hospital and clinic space and staff, as well as emergency medical personnel and vehicles, all of which came out of Tomas’ pocket.