by K R Sanford
“Are we talking about making a super race here? I like this," said Macro. "Where do I sign up?”
“You can sign on my ass, if you like, right behind me," retorted Legion. "This policy is their sovereign right and an ‘Act of War’ if we try to intercede. It doesn't matter what our well-intended sensibilities are, or what our personal beliefs are. Economics Marco, it’s not about credits. It’s about economy of motion and efficiency.”
“Alright, Emperor,” replied Marco. “I am not qualified to contribute to this level of discussion. What’s your plan?”
Ryan walked up to the table and took a seat.
Legion gave Ryan a nod and continued. “Ryan, we were talking about the Liometo Elite and their interest in the Milky Way Galaxy.”
Ryan, captivated by Legion’s presents remained silent. The gregarious good-fellow was gone; replaced by a no-nonsense Emperor of War.
“The theater of engagement is the Black-hole.” Legion walked to the observation window. He faced the stars in the distance. He stretched out his hands and commanded, “This is where the battle will begin. The theater itself governs the destruction. And, here the battle will continue to play out. To the victor go the spoils.”
“What spoils, Your Majesty?” asked Ryan.
“You see, this is why I especially appreciate Ryan’s participation," said Legion. “That insightful brain of his: energy, dancing out for recombination, an equal pair; entanglement doubling existence. He states the obvious to intensify the split original, a superposition of state.”
Ryan quickly replied. “You’re talking about redistributing the energy of a displaced galaxy.”
“Which galaxy, Ryan?” asked Legion.
“The one that collapsed, the Liometo’s Galaxy, but how?” replied Ryan.
“Correction,” announced Legion like a proud schoolmaster, “As for the how? You leave that to me. I am going to ask you to continue onto Ameda. Not to deny you a personal victory, but because it is too dangerous. Sending you and your people out as a point of weakness is not going to work with the Elite. They would kill you like insects in the road without a moment’s thought. This is a game you cannot play.”
Marco smiled, “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. We have our own Elite to worry about. Scheming is still part of the game the ambitious play everywhere you turn in this galaxy.”
“That’s it," said Legion. "It’s a wonder I don’t love it. I guess I know there is something I would rather do. So, to elaborate: for me, scheming is more of a chore, like taking out garbage.”
“This is good,” replied Ryan. “I’m getting more sense of your personality, Emperor.”
“You see, Ryan? A snake lies on a rock and an eagle soars through the air.”
“It is what it is. When it doesn’t have to be?” Ryan questioned with a sour twist on his face. “Things are not that simple. Life is organic; people, places and things always change.”
Legion spun around facing Ryan. “That’s right, everything changes. I would like to have you with me on this mission. One day Ryan, there will be another time. Here is where I say goodbye. I need you all on Ameda. Our guests, you will see. Make them feel at home.” Legion turned and left by the magnavator. His entourage followed.
At length Marco spoke. “I’m needed back on the bridge.” He slipped out of his seat and entered the Magnavator. The bridge crew followed. A moment later they walked onto the bridge.
Marco pointed to the viewer. He took his chair. They watched in silence as the Royal Neptune and the Mastodon drifted into a wedge formation. They fell in behind the Emperor’s, Amedan One.
“Cheer up, Ryan,” said Marco.” You would never understand the Amedan language.”
Ryan laughed, “That’s true. Still, I have a feeling they will be back in time for Festival.”
“Interesting,” chimed Hector. “He did seem to enjoy himself.”
“You mean here?” asked Ryan.
“Here too,” said Hector.
“He was pretty funny speaking at the Grand Ball. I had fun too,” replied Marco waxing nostalgic.”
“We will have to expect them,” announced the tall Ziltairian.
Clorissa is right,” agreed Marco. “Think positive. They will be there. What force can stand against the Amedans and Legion’s people?”
Hector leaned forward. “Call Cybil and Thule to the bridge, I have some questions.”
Marco reflected, “Yes, but let’s keep it casual. Order some food. It’s still our turn to be hospitable.”
“It’s taken care of, Admiral.” Clorissa turned from communications. “Security has acknowledged. They are bringing them down.”
“Very good,” said Marco.
“It’s the Emperor,” continued Clorissa. “His high energy is infectious.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” replied Marco. “I'm feeling charged up myself.”
Three ships tethered in a triangle wedge. A halo erupted on the viewer.
“They’re gone,” said Clorissa.
The magnavator door hissed open.
“You’re right in time, Cybil. Thule, you missed all the fun.
Thule, as if slighted replied, “The Emperor is gone?”
“Amedan’s too,” said Marco giving a hand wave to the cafeteria attendant. “You can leave the food carts at the end of the table, thank you.”
“Dig in everybody,” said Hector.
Marco settled himself in his chair. “We are going to a place where you can raise children of your own, your own children. How do you feel about that?”
“Where are those ships going? I was under the impression we would be going with the Emperor to the Black-hole.”
Why would we do that, Thule? We can’t shape shift into another dimension, can you?” asked Hector.
Thule, squirming in his seat, spoke, “It doesn’t matter. The Emperor’s ships don’t have the numbers to defeat the fleet of the Liometo. You are not the only civilization who can curve spacetime in on itself. Warp manipulation is not a big deal!”
“They left you behind,” chimed Marco. “It’s natural you would be angry. But be careful, Thule. I can lock you away for not displaying control while in a position of leadership. You will yet, get confined to your quarters. Have a seat at the table and be quiet.” Marco turned his head to weapons, “Hector?”
“Already on it, Admiral,” replied Hector with a thumb up.
Lights fluttered over the control panel. A moment later the magnavator hissed open. Two armed security stepped out and stood on either side of Thule. Without a word Thule stood and followed the security into the magnavator. The door closed and all was as it was, except for Cybil.
Cybil sat in wonder. Her mouth and her eyes were wide open. She was seeing herself alone with the humans. Her mind waxed into a state of cool indifference. She reached for a fish taco then replied. “Is this what all the fuss was about whenever mealtime comes announced?”
“Yup,” said Marco, his face enjoying Cybil’s clarity of the moment. “Well, now that we are all here. Let me tell you what I see.”
Chapter 4
______________________________________________________
THE WAY BACK
Ring the bells that still can ring.
Forget your perfect offering.
The birds they sing, at the break of day.
Start Again! I heard them say.
There is a crack; A crack in everything.
That is how the light gets in.
“Anthem”
Leonard Cohen – 1992
“The Doorway through the Galaxy is an anthem sung in everything. One dies and hears the sound ring out. The Galaxy’s rung, and out they come. Out of time, and time again, the Elite come and come again.”
The bridge crew turned to Ryan. Marco raised his hands in surrender, “You have something, Ryan?”
“If I’m seeing this,” said Ryan, “so do the Emperor and the others.”
“My goodness, this is exciting,” said Cybil. “
How did they get here?”
“Ryan? How does your poem answer Cybil’s question?” asked Marco.
“I’m guessing?” replied Ryan.
“No, don’t guess. What’s going on?”
“I have two starships, Admiral. They only appeared a moment ago, shot from the Black-hole.”
Marco waved his hand and shook his head. “Maintain course,” he said reaching for the hors d’oeuvres.
“Affirmative,” replied Ryan. “I didn’t figure the ships for us. If questioned by the Emperor, I would at least like to have a riddle. Like: What's the way back through the galaxy?”
“He would like the question. That much I can say.” said Marco.
“If the ships are Liometo Elite, they have proven themselves capable of going back the way they came.” said Ryan. “The computer thinks their energy signatures are the same as the collapsed galaxy. Which means; they are guilty of entering Milky Way Territory. And, you know how Legion feels about boundary violations.”
“Right,” chimed Hector. “They’re screwed without permission. They will get promoted for breaking the rules.”
“Not our problem,” rejoined Ryan. “Because we are transporting two point three million of their citizens, what’s the big deal, right?”
“So, they have a different story,” replied Hector. “They count these people as workers not citizens.”
“That’s creepy,” said Marco turning to Cybil.
“If they are capable of breeding,” said Cybil inspecting her dagger-like finger nails. “Their duties will serve the Elite. Is it any different in your culture?” she continued with an air of indifference. She pulled her raven hair from her porcelain face. “I’m used as well, but that's me. We are all used. Don't you agree? Call your participation in the human condition what you will. I guarantee; you will not reach fulfillment without a worthy challenge.”
“I don’t know about those ideas,” said Chris straining to understand Cybil’s reasoning.
“My considerations depend on the environment," said Cybil, “And the more suitable the challenge the better for adaptation of the species.”
Chris, ever vigilant replied, “I understand. You are able to find a way for species to adapt.”
Cybil turned her attention to Chris. “Part of me does,” she smiled, “a very small part. The rest is contextual. The environment and the receptivity of the subject make the transformation possible.”
“Of course,” replied Chris. “What’s it feel like?”
“Humm,” moaned Cybil gazing into Chris’ eyes. “Which part?”
“I don’t know. I’m asking because I’ve always felt something lacking in my own life.”
Cybil straightened. “The whole experience would be what bees feel when they supply royal jelly to their queen. She will morph into the queen mother. She lays eggs for more queens so there will be more nests for the colony. You see, the bees divide their colonies so the species can sustain life and not go extinct.”
“Of course,” said Chris. “What an honor to feel the only basic passion that makes sense in this universe.”
Cybil smiled, “Try to eat something, Chris. This voyage has been arduous.”
“Yes, it is perceptive of you to notice,” replied Chris.
Hector, listening with festination, picked up a sampler from the food cart. He set it in front of Chris. He fixated like a male drone bee, feeding the women with helpless curiosity. “Your speaking produces an atmosphere of nursery, Cybil. It’s intoxicating, in a good way, I mean.”
“I hope so,” laughed Cybil, “or I’m sending the wrong message.” Her face shown bright and her body moved graceful. She was enjoying the feminine powers of beauty. She moved her hair from her face then reached for the hors d’oeuvres on a spear. Without warning, she shoved the spear in his face saying, “Join us for a bite, Hector?”
Hector, with lightning-fast reflex, captured the spear between his forefinger and thumb. As he began to pull away, Cybil’s fingers locked with his. Their fingers slipped against the soft flesh of their palms. Without dropping the spear they freed their hands from the spontaneous overture. Hector replied. “It must feel like an all-consuming commitment.”
“Ah haa, yess,” purred Cybil.
“Careful, Hector,” said Chris with a wink. “I think she likes you.”
“For her,” replied Hector, fixing on Cybil’s wild-eyed stare. “It’s her social norm. I make no judgments on Liometo culture,”
“Hector might have a rough exterior,” said Marco. “But socially, he’s the smartest one in the room, any room.”
Hector nodded. “Adapting to Ameda will not be difficult for the Liometo,” he added. “It’s a great place. If they migrate to the Middle Corridor, they can use your help adapting to artificial atmosphere.”
“Sweep the area, I don’t trust the quiet,” said Marco. “Can you see their ships?”
“Negative, Admiral,” said Ryan turning to Cybil. “You’re going to have to take it one step at a time. We will be at the planet in a few days. The perfect place to test adaptation will be preparing for Festival.”
“How about the Emperor,” rejoined Marco?
“Not yet, Admiral, the signal won’t reach us for another thirty minutes.”
Marco turned his head toward Ryan’s viewer. “They can’t be moving that fast unless they upgraded their ships.”
“The Amedans are moving the tether at flank speed, replied Ryan.”
“Then they are on the attack!”
Admiral, should I clear the bridge?”
Marco gave a thoughtful look around at crew. “No,” he said. “All we can do is speculate what’s going on out there. There is nothing we can do right now anyway. I hate to admit it but I’m glade Lao is here. We are going to need his team to house and feed the Liometo people.”
Ryan pointed at the convoy on the viewer. The starships formed a train behind the Eagle. They snaked out a thousand miles. “I don’t think we are lacking in manpower or supplies.”
“No,” replied Marco. “We are lacking in logistics and leadership.”
Ryan shrugged, “Something else to pass onto Lao, I guess.”
Cybil touched Hector’s shoulder then spoke. “Why did you say the Liometo Elite might get promoted?”
Hector turned to Marco. Marco nodded the okay. Hector reached out to Cybil. “We had an officer, not too long ago, who took part in a conspiracy. The conspiracy resulted in the destruction of a battle cruiser. Two crewmen died and many more suffered injury. The Emperor promoted him but isolated him to Star Base Temple. That was the star base where we picked you up.”
“Oh yes,” replied Cybil. “I heard something about that.”
“Right,” continued Hector. “The Emperor has a way of turning negative persons, places or things into a positive asset for his plans.”
“That’s called being astute, isn’t it?” she asked.
Marco gave a thumb up but said nothing.
Hector sat back and considered. “Legion looks at the most efficient course of action.
“I don’t follow,” said Cybil.
“Legion would take apart an entire planet,” replied Ryan. “Then put it back together to understand how to give more quality to the thing and better purpose its use.”
“A promotion then,” said Cybil.
“Yes, Cybil,” said Ryan. “That’s his way.”
Chris spoke, “We had discussions about this, called qualia; what is the qualia in that thing you do?”
Oh, yes I remember,” said Hector. This was a conversation that involved King Devin. He had candid remarks about this business of qualia.”
“That was at the last Festival,” rejoined Marco. “There is time between events to talk about the latest news.
“News?” inquired Cybil.
Ryan did a double take, “Current events, Cybil," he said. "They are updates of important issues affecting where you live.”
“Oh sure,” said Cybil. “I know this. News;
this would be a slang word.”
“Yes,” replied Ryan dumbfounded. “I guess it’s more of a subject than a predicate. No, wait a minute.”
Marco laughed and laughed again. He could not stop laughing. His hysterics turned infectious. The bridge crew found the pointless intensity ridiculous. It was enough to make them burst into hysterics. Cybil's wiled-eye stare turned to curiosity. It gave the crew more reason to laugh-off the ridiculous tension. Which, everyone seemed keen on defending for its lack of meaning.
“What do you all do to prepare for Festival on this planet?” asked Cybil.
Heads turned to Marco. “Well, I live there, so I can tell you something about it.”
Cybil, finding the fact pleasing, gave Marco her full attention.
“Many folk come from a long way to Ameda. Last year, we had folk from as far as Ziltar in the Andromeda Galaxy, Clorissa’s home planet. There were others from Earth, and many more from the Middle Corridor.
Right, so there are many events. Some are sport events; some are cooking, some crafts and art works. Then there are the tournaments. These are events of skill and bravery. They can be on horseback. Some are on foot, like the joust, or sword fighting or hand to hand combat."
“Shrine Lake will have water sports,” continued Marco. “Some of these events are like fishing, boating, swimming and team sailing. That’s an impressive sport. The sails and boats are sleek and colorful. They draw a big crowd. Folks camp all around the lake to watch this event.”
“Some of the participants plan years in advance. Most plan and build something different each year. They counted a million guests last year in Shrine Lake alone. This year with your people that number will double.”
Cybil, wide eyed, shook her head. “Can we get a place for my people, somewhere close by? They are very social and would like this.”