She read the file and shuddered, inwardly. Abdul Hussein had been taken into custody, as had his mother and father. In neat precise script, the bureaucrats had recorded their judgement; the three of them had been sent to a work camp, where his parents had died the following year. Abdul himself had lasted another few months before following his parents into the grave. There was no mention of Sameena at all. No doubt they'd decided that a mere girl wasn't worth worrying about; if she’d escaped, she had probably starved to death or been taken in as an unregistered wife. None of them had ever considered that she might have made it off-planet.
Below her family’s name, there was another. Judge Al-Haran hadn't even lasted six months in a work camp – and he had only been slightly involved with Abdul, if at all. His wives, she discovered, had been forced into prostitution. Sameena had been right to run, she knew, yet the thought brought her no pleasure. All that flowed through her mind was a cold determination that such crimes would be avenged.
The Guardians would die, she promised herself, silently. For all of their secret links to the greater universe, they had no real conception of how the Empire could track someone who wanted to remain hidden. Her occupation force wouldn’t be brutal, but it would be relentless and difficult to fool. There would be no mercy when they finally caught up with the Guardians. She would authorise the use of truth drugs and whatever else it took to burn them out, root and branch. Whatever Jannah’s future might hold, it would not be dictated by the Guardians.
It will be dictated by me, she thought. She would extend the scholarship program to Jannah and ensure that the children received a better introduction to the outside universe. And anyone who wanted to leave would be welcome to try and make a life among the traders, or even settling a very different world. Her lips thinned as she realised just how many other changes she could make. If wife and daughter abuse was harshly punished, just how long would it continue?
Her father would have approved, she felt.
She stood up, still carrying the file, and headed back to the shuttle. Part of her was tempted to stay on Jannah, but she knew that she had neglected her duties at Madagascar long enough. Besides, she had to report to the Meet personally. They'd want to hear what had happened from her own lips.
“It's over,” she told Jamie, as the shuttle took her back into space. “We can go home now.”
Chapter Forty-Four
No one knows just how many people died with the Empire. Eighty billion on Earth, assuming that the official figures were accurate. (Some estimates of Earth’s population were far higher.) Billions more on the Core Worlds; millions more on Rim-ward colonies that were abandoned and left at the mercy of outside forces. The full human cost can never be calculated.
- Professor Leo Caesius. The Science That Isn’t: Economics and the Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire.
“The stockpile of supplies from Jannah will come in very useful,” Steve confirmed, after the Meet. “We should be able to put the remaining ships into active service within a few months.”
Sameena nodded. The Meet had been exhausting, particularly when she wanted desperately to talk to her husband in private. She had important news to share. But everyone wanted their say about the Jannah War, even though it had firmly been nipped in the bud. Not that she could really blame them. Maxwell was one of the more populous worlds in the growing Trade Federation – the name had finally stuck – and whatever happened to it could easily happen to someone else. And then there was the blight on Dueller.
At least that was stopped before it got anywhere else, she thought. They’d discovered that the Guardians had intended to spread it into the Core Worlds, but none of their ships had left Jannah before the hammer came down. And now that the biologists had access to the original research notes, creating a counter-agent had been simple. Dueller would recover within a couple of years, she knew. Maxwell would take far longer.
She smiled to herself. Saving them personally had been risky, but it had definitely paid off. Representatives from both planets had been singing her praises, as well as offering to provide more resources and manpower for the Federation. Her position was, for the moment, invulnerable, although she knew better than to expect that to continue indefinitely. The Trade Federation wasn't designed to have a single permanent leader.
And my factories won’t matter so much when others start producing their own factories, she reminded herself. She had had to remind herself not to use her position to block the foundation of other factories, even though she knew that such attitudes had played a large rule in demolishing the Empire’s economy. It would have been easy to fall into the trap and sow the seeds of her own destruction. Instead, she’d honoured the laws she’d written and watched as others planned their own factories.
“Always a very good thing,” she said, once Steve had finished. Even with Jannah out of commission, there was still no shortage of pirate ships probing the Federation’s loose borders. And then there was always the possibility of running into another successor state, another piece of the Empire that had managed to survive separation from the whole. “And our planned warship production?”
“We have an upgraded destroyer design,” Steve assured her. “In six months, we should have a testbed prototype and then we can start mass production.”
Jamie scowled. “It might be better to start producing designs we already know work,” he pointed out. “We still have a critical shortage of ships.”
“But those designs are outdated,” Steve countered. It was an old argument. “Besides, there would still be delays before we managed to build new construction slips. By then, we’d know the flaws in the new design and how to counter them.”
“You just want to build something new,” Jamie accused.
“You cannot deny that there's room for improvement,” Steve said. “In many ways, the standard design is inefficient.”
Sameena sighed and tuned out the argument. They’d had it every time the subject had been broached, leaving her caught between an enthusiastic engineer and her husband. Irritatingly, she could see both sides of the argument. A new destroyer class would give them more flexibility – and unexpected capabilities, assuming that no one else was producing their own ships – but if there were problems with the design, they might only become apparent when the prototype was built, forcing them to either redesign the ship or scrap it altogether.
She reached for her datapad and read through the latest report from Paddy. Six months after the occupation and Jannah was still in a state of shock. It was hard to tell, Paddy noted, if they were more surprised by the discovery that their leaders were mounting an interstellar war or by the presence of an occupation force. Unsurprisingly, few had mourned the Guardians, but there was some question over what to do next.
Sameena scowled as she read the next section. She hadn't been the only person with grudges against the Guardians – or the people who had supported them. Quite a few people had found the nerve to strike back at their tormentors after Abdullah had fallen, while wives had fled abusive husbands and gone to the occupation force for protection. Sameena had already ordered that they would have protection, even though she knew it would annoy the traditionalists. The traditionalists could be as traditional as they liked, as long as no one was hurt – or forced into following their way of life. It would be a long time, she knew, before Jannah recovered from the shock. And they’d probably be a agricultural world permanently.
But if everyone who wants to leave does leave, she thought, it may teach those who remain a lesson.
She still didn't understand just how the Guardians had thought they could win. They had no industrial base – and, therefore, no way of replenishing their war stocks. Indeed, they’d had fewer ships than she'd been led to suspect, which meant ... what? Was someone else also building up their own fleet? Or had Intelligence gotten it wrong, again? There was no way to know.
But the Guardians had inadvertently done the Trade Federation a favour. The captured ships would
be extremely useful. It was just a shame that whatever credits the Cartel had saved were effectively useless now. The Imperial Bank had evaporated in the wake of the Empire’s departure from the sector. God alone knew what had happened to the Core Worlds if the bank had collapsed completely.
“We will be running additional patrols through the Rim-ward zones,” Jamie said, changing the subject. “There have been several nasty pirate attacks and I’d like to discourage them.”
“Once we get more armed ships up and running, they will be discouraged,” Steve said. “We can also spread more rumours about q-ships too.”
Sameena grinned. “Or just share the footage from Maxwell,” she said. “If two q-ships can take out a heavy cruiser, they won’t have any problems taking out pirate ships.”
Jamie nodded. “That would definitely make them think twice,” he agreed. “And we can release false data too, claiming that we have q-ships of all classes.”
“One final item on the agenda, then,” Steve said. “The construction of the Meet ship.”
Sameena nodded. Madagascar was effectively serving as the Trade Federation’s capital, but no one wanted that to last, not when it would warp the asteroid’s development. Earth hadn't benefited in the long run from being the capital of an interstellar empire ... and besides, it had eventually developed a colossal army of bureaucrats, who had contributed to the Empire’s destruction. The Trade Federation was much less inclined to interfere in the internal affairs of its member states, but Sameena knew that the bureaucracy would grow, given half a chance.
Steve’s proposal solution had been simple, although she hadn't been entirely convinced that it was practical. A giant starship would house the central government, moving from world to world as necessary, ensuring that the government always remained in touch with the realities on the ground. The Meet had, surprisingly, accepted the proposal at once, even though it would take at least three years to build the new ship. It fitted in, they claimed, with the trader ethos.
“We have finalised the design,” Steve continued. “She will actually be bigger than a battleship, but only carrying a third of the weapons.”
Jamie sighed. “You do realise that building this giant ship will take up resources we need to devote to smaller ships?”
“I don’t intend to start building for another year, at least,” Steve admitted. “By then, we should have a larger shipyard and a much greater production facility. If worst comes to worst, we can delay construction for another year.”
“The Empire could have built entire squadrons of destroyers for the cost of one battleship,” Jamie muttered. “This is a waste of resources.”
The remainder of the meeting passed quickly, much to Sameena’s relief. There were other issues on the agenda, but most of them needed to be left alone to mature before she – or anyone else – could do anything about them. One planet was unsure if it should join the Federation or not, another had seized a trader ship and his family was demanding immediate action. That would require some careful handling – and the personal touch. She intended to leave Madagascar tomorrow.
“It could be worse,” she said, as soon as they were alone. “They might want an entire squadron of such ships.”
“The whole thing is a nightmare,” Jamie said, crossly. “We’ll have to ensure that the ship is escorted at all times, not to mention being kept out of danger. What happens if some bright spark decides to ram her? The entire government would be destroyed.”
“Not all of it,” Sameena murmured.
“And if we still use Madagascar as a central base, we will see the bureaucracy develop anyway,” Jamie continued. “Can’t you talk them out of it?”
Sameena shook her head. “They’re willing to do whatever it takes to avoid creating a capital world,” she said. “The Meet even rejected the idea of using one of our hallowed locations, or constructing a colossal space station.”
“Bunch of fools,” Jamie said. There was no real anger in his voice. “I thought that traders would have more sense.”
“They can be just as silly as groundhogs,” Sameena said, pulling her husband to her. “And I have another piece of news for you.”
Jamie looked at her, his face concerned. “What’s happened?”
Sameena touched her belly. “I’m pregnant,” she said, simply. She smiled at his half-stunned, half-delighted expression. “You’re going to be a father.”
“I ...” Jamie cleared his throat and started again. “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” Sameena said.
She'd been in two minds about keeping the implant after marrying Jamie. Trader tradition said that all such marriage should produce children, but she knew that she hadn’t been the best of mothers to Brad Junior. In the end, she’d had the implant removed and left the rest of it up to chance – or God. It had still been several months before her menstrual cycle had failed to appear, convincing her to go to Jayne for a check-up. Jayne had confirmed that she was pregnant – and strongly advised her to carry the baby to term naturally.
Sameena had hesitated, until she’d remembered her own problems in accepting Brad Junior and her own limited feelings for her son. Her mother would have been shocked and ashamed at such lack of concern; Sameena couldn't help wondering if she’d failed to develop any real feelings for him because he’d been brought to terms in an external womb. This time, she promised herself, she would give birth naturally, even if it did mean that she would have to spend the last five months of pregnancy on Madagascar. And she would try to work harder with Brad. It was downright shameful that his adopted father spent more time with him than his mother.
“That’s wonderful,” Jamie said. “Is it a he or a she?”
“I haven’t looked yet,” Sameena admitted. “And I don’t think I’m going to look.”
It was strange to think that Jannah’s low-tech society might have been a blessing in disguise, but Jayne had explained that some planets, where one sex was valued over the other, often aborted children with the wrong sex or simply manipulated the fertilization process to ensure that the child would always have the right sex. Societies where women were valued over men seemed to work better than the other way round – she knew that Jannah’s population would have always selected for men, if they’d had the choice – but they were still fundamentally distorted.
“Better make sure Jayne knows not to tell you,” Jamie said. He hugged her tightly, one hand reaching down to caress her chest. “Are you sure you should go tomorrow?”
Sameena had to laugh. “Men,” she said. “I should be fine.”
“You know what I mean,” Jamie said, a little stiffly. “You’d be risking our child as well as yourself.”
“I’ll stay on Madagascar afterwards,” Sameena promised. It would be hard, remaining in one place for so long, but he was right. She needed to ensure that she had the baby somewhere safe. “But for the moment, I need to keep papering over the cracks until the Trade Federation is firmly established.”
She shook her head, tiredly. There was just so much to do!
“The traders are likely to go further than you expect,” Jamie warned. “I heard that some of them were even planning to head into the Core Worlds, just to see what happened to Earth.”
“It’ll take us years to rebuild the trade networks to that point,” Sameena said. “Unless they make other friends and allies along the way.”
Jamie shrugged. Once, they would have known what to expect as they travelled Core-wards. Now, no one knew what might greet them when they left the sector. Sameena’s newborn intelligence network tried to collect rumours – and there were millions of them - but no one seemed to know anything for sure. It was as if an unholy silence had descended over what was once the most populous sector in human history.
The Empire had been founded on force, naked brutal force. In the end, it had proved unreliable to keep the Empire together. Trade, she hoped, would work better, if only because it would work in everyone’s interests. And the Trade Federat
ion would try to maintain the balance between traders and planet-bound populations.
She shook her head as she held her husband tightly, remembering what her mother had used to say on Jannah, before she'd been taken away by the Guardians.
A woman’s work was never done.
Epilogue
In the end, the Empire’s fall was predicable – and preventable. But no one saw clearly enough to try. Let the final word be, then, that the Empire was a victim of its own success – and of those who chose to cling to their power, rather than change with the times. A fitting epigraph, I feel, for a society that had forgotten how to change.
- Professor Leo Caesius. The Science That Isn’t: Economics and the Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire.
Anisa Hussein-Cook was a darling little girl.
Or so Sameena told herself. Every mother, according to Lamina, saw their children as special, but Anisa definitely was. At two years old, she was already preparing for a life in space by exploring every last inch of the asteroid settlement. And her older brother wasn't much better ... Jamie, of course, saw it as a good sign. The kids would be adventurous when they grew up.
Heirs to an empire, Sameena thought. The Trade Federation might not be a proper empire, but she owned two-thirds of it personally. It gave her immense political power, even though she was careful not to use it too blatantly. Trading will teach them how to handle people and make the best deals.
She still felt a twinge of guilt when she looked at Brad Junior, but spending so much time on the asteroid had been good for their relationship. It was easier to consider him her son now, even though she would have to sit down with him one day and explain the circumstances of his birth. Captain Hamilton had warned her that she might have to do it sooner rather than later, if only to prevent him hearing rumours about his mother’s relationship with his true father. Other lives had been screwed up by parents not being honest with their children.
The Empire's Corps: Book 05 - The Outcast Page 43