Though meetings among his kind were rare, Nero did know a few of his fellow members of the Order, and she was right. His aversion to what he considered intrusive thoughts seemed like a unique affliction.
“Prospero and I had a fight years ago, and I guess I’ve been punishing him since,” he said.
Khepria’s ear twitching increased. “But that doesn’t explain why you find my thought-transmissions uncomfortable.”
“It’s not just you,” he said quickly. He felt the strange sensation of heat rising to his cheeks.
Khepria looked to the side. “I figured.”
Shall we get on with the mission, Nero?
He was more than happy to comply with Prospero’s request. “About the meeting at the embassy—Maskhim Sinuthros, one of their diplomatic investigators or some such, will be joining us as is his diplomatic right. He and Prospero were sure to remind me of that last point.”
You needed reminding before you caused a diplomatic incident.
“Joining us? He invoked the treaty, didn’t he?” Her ears stopped twitching and her body visibly relaxed.
He nodded. “Unfortunately. You know about the treaty?”
“Who doesn’t? It’s a major piece of Confederate history. When is he going to meet up with us?”
“It’s to be determined.”
“Then maybe we can slip out of that obligation.” She smiled. “I have narrowed down the cargo ship that carried Siren to Brogh to thirty possible shipments. Better than it was when I started, but I am still running a cross-check of cargo manifests and points of origin.”
He nodded. A wet breeze kicked up, filling his nostrils with the musky brine of the sea. He felt his skin become sticky within seconds.
“What can we expect here?”
The dome’s registry indicates that it’s Mother-Priestess is a human female named Lalande Euphrati. She was born to the Naturalist Sect of Gaianists in the inner colonies of the Solan Republic. That means she was raised to believe in the sacred nature of the natural state of the Solan genome, Prospero said to both of them.
“She and her followers may take some issue with you, Nero.” Khepria’s ears twitched.
“Why’s that?”
“Naturalists are against genetic engineering of any kind. They find Abyssians to be something of an abomination, especially since Daedalus modeled your kind off of a Solan template,” Khepria said.
“I see; tough.”
I knew you were going to say that. Remember, Nero, diplomacy is key here.
“Prospero is right, Praetor Graves. I don’t think they’re going to help us if we insult their Mother-Priestess.” She looked at him with trepidation.
He snorted. “I’ll tread carefully, don’t worry. Shall we?”
They walked to the dome’s entrance, a small arch facing the plaza, side by side. It’s size seemed to grow larger as they approached, as though the planet was blowing a bubble big enough to swallow a star ship. The double doors beneath the arch were each decorated with the glowing image of Sol-III. The white swirls of simulated clouds were sharply defined over the blue-hue of oceans and the brown of land.
The doors opened at their approach and an airlock within cycled them into the jungle beneath the polyglass. The sultry air slapped every exposed surface of Nero’s skin like a giant wet towel. His ears came under assault from what sounded like a million crickets, frogs, and birds all singing at once.
“By the Will,” he half-shouted.
Through the giant leaves of trees tens of meters tall, the simulated sky was barely visible. So little light reached the floor that they stood in a world of shifting shadows. Khepria’s implants de-polarized her eyes, returning them to their natural feline amber.
She gave Nero a side-long look. “There is no network in here. It is strange to have my head so quiet.”
It seems the biodome has an electromagnetic aegis that blocks the Cyberweb’s signal. I cannot connect either.
Nero scanned the line of human-sized ferns and shrubs before them. “This is my first time in a biodome. I’m not sure what I expected, but this is what Earth was like? It’s so... green.”
Before Solan civilization covered every inhabitable space on Sol III, this is what certain territories near the equator were like. It’s a very unsanitary way to commemorate the Earth as it was before it drowned. I’m detecting very high amounts of bacteria and viruses in the air. All of them are of Solan origin with a few exceptions.
“The exceptions were probably introduced by visitors like us,” Khepria added. “I wonder why they bothered to recreate the micro-fauna?”
“Because it was there,” a strong female voice said.
Nero looked to a grouping of three giant ferns where a woman stood dressed in a skirt made from strips of hide, and a halter top that appeared to be made from strings of mottled blue and green silicate beads. Her skin was dark-brown with a golden sheen that could only be achieved through long exposures to solar rays. Her hair was jet black with a dusting of gray, and fell about her shoulders in puffy dreadlocks adorned with the fans and cork-screw cones of calcium carbonate shells. The skin around her dark-brown eyes was just starting to develop crow’s feet, a rare sight in the age of nanotechnology. Several places on her body were decorated with black tattoos depicting abstract designs that he couldn’t quite identify. There was an eye here and a fang there, but to what beasts they belonged he could not be certain.
Behind her several more individuals emerged from the shadows, parting the ferns like a green curtain. Two were like her, a man and a woman, with features close enough that it was safe to assume them her kin. The new woman was younger than the first, but dressed more-or-less the same. The man wore an identical leather strip skirt, but had a loose-fitting double-necklace of beads instead of a halter top. The pattern on all three beaded articles was the same, and the tattoos adorning most of the visible skin on all three looked similar as well. Nero assumed it might denote something like a family or tribal insignia.
The third member of their group was nearly three meters tall. Although humanoid in shape, it was covered in thick ivory plates from its inverted pear shaped head to its feet. Between the plates pulsed yellow veins set in ashen gray flesh. Behind its body bobbed a muscular tail almost as long as it was tall. A small, fang-filled mouth was set in the terminal end of the odd head, and its smooth, armored skull lacked any semblance of eyes or a nose. It wore a long, ornate loincloth woven from a fibrous looking substance that gave off a pale, blue light barely visible in the shadows of the great trees. The last forty centimeters of its tail were wrapped tightly in a similar textile. The only vaguely modern looking articles on its person were a metal bonnet with four pulsing holes over the crown of its skull, and the three meter long metal staff it held in one of its four digit hands.
Nero gave an acknowledging nod to the older woman standing in front of the group, but his eyes were drawn to the alien he knew to be a Savorchan, standing behind them. A tingle in the back of his brain prevented him from looking away.
Stop staring. You have to pay attention to the leader. You’re being rude, Prospero said.
“Forgive the intrusion, but how did they know we were here? I thought Naturalists rejected cybernetics,” Khepria’s voice whispered in his mind. Apparently person-to-person transmissions were not blocked by whatever the Gaians were using to keep the Cyberweb out.
No idea, he sent back.
He forced his eyes down to the older woman. “Greetings, I’m Nero Graves of the Abyssian Order, and this is Agent Sorina Khepria of the Confederate Space Authority. We’re here—”
“As part of the investigation into Baron Mitsugawa Yoji’s death?” The woman took a step forward, fixing him in her gaze. Her voice was clear, but had a crackle of age beneath it.
“Yes, how did you know?” He frowned.
“We may live under a dome, but we still get the news here. I expected someone to show up eventually,” the older woman said.
“You did?” He wondered why
that would be. They shouldn’t know that Khepria intercepted a Gaian transmission on Earth and decrypted it. She was too good a hacker to let her digital fingerprints show easily. Perhaps the Gaians here were expecting word from the Mitsugawas?
The older woman’s eyes narrowed. “What do you think we had to do with Baron Mitsugawa’s murder?”
He let his eyes drift among her companions. The younger woman and the man were tense. Savorchans were hard to read, and he only had limited social exposure to them during the war, but it didn’t look perturbed to him.
Be careful, Nero. Don’t give away too much.
“Who said it was a murder? He threw himself out a window.” His gut was tingling.
“What else would it be?” The woman said.
His frown deepened. “He could have been depressed.”
The older woman looked indignant. “You and I both know that’s not the case. Don’t waste our time with such falsehoods.”
The two humans behind her shared a nervous look.
“We know about a certain transmission made from the dome on Earth to the Mitsugawa arcology shortly before the Baron came here to Kosfanter. I’d like to discuss it with the Mother-Priestess.” Nero watched them closely for a reaction.
Although looks were again exchanged among the younger members of the group, the older woman held her eyes steady on him. “You are speaking to her. I wouldn’t let an Abyssian enter my dome, without personally coming to see what it wanted of my people.”
He wasn’t entirely surprised. The woman did have a matronly look to her. “In that case, may we go somewhere to talk?”
The woman gave him a shrewd look. “No, we may not. I will not have an abomination of flesh strolling about my dome.”
He inhaled deeply.
“I can talk to her,” Agent Khepria’s voice sounded in his head.
It’s probably the easiest way, Nero. If the Mother-Priestess will talk to Agent Khepria, it will avoid an unnecessary conflict.
He looked at Khepria. Her ears twitched once, but her amber eyes were alight and held his gaze steadily. Techs like her weren’t trained in interrogative techniques, but she could always thought-whisper him if she got into trouble and it would avoid a lot of frustrating banter.
He nodded.
She turned towards the Mother-Priestess. “Would it be alright if we discussed matters?”
The Mother-Priestess looked her up and down. “Your tech-contamination is much more tolerable than the Abyssian’s. This is acceptable. The abomination is to wait here.”
“Understood,” he said.
The older woman nodded and led the way into the thick undergrowth. Khepria followed. The two younger humans trailed her, but the Savorchan remained behind.
“Yes?” Nero asked him.
The big Savorchan closed the distance between them in two steps. It towered over him by more than a meter. This close, he could smell the sour odor of its sulfurous flesh, and see its yellow veins wriggle between the armored plates with every pulse of its heart.
The metal bonnet’s four holes pulsed, translating its ultrasonic voice into a high pitched sound audible to Solan ears. “Salutations, Nero Graves of the Abyssian Order. I am Irin, Chief of the Savorchan Tribes and adoptive father of the one you know as Kiertah Rega.”
Nero’s breath caught in his throat. Kiertah, the little girl with the freaky eyes he met in the war. He hadn’t seen her since the regeneration pod aboard the C.S.S. Zeus’ Thunder. Prospero loaded the memory into his consciousness unprompted. In his mind’s eye he saw her body-length mane of black hair enclosing her starved form as she gazed at him through the curve of polyglass with those intrusive, glowing eyes.
“I wasn’t aware you had adopted her,” Nero said around the sudden lump in his throat.
“A large amount happened since you saw her long ago,” Irin said.
“I’d expect so. It’s been nearly ten years. Wait, what are you doing in the Gaian Biodome on Kosfanter? Shouldn’t you be leading your people or something?”
“My wife guides in my absence. What is done here needs my attention.”
Nero stared at the small mouth of razor-sharp fangs at the base of the armored skull lacking any other features to lock onto. What would a Savorchan leader be doing here with a group that had been involved with the Baron Mitsugawa?
I may be able to assist with that. It was the Baron Mitsugawa Yoji that sponsored the Savorchan petition to join the Confederation just before the war. Chief Irin could be involved as part of a pre-arranged deal, or out of a sense of debt owed.
Nero nodded to himself, it made a degree of sense. Still, leaders usually worked through intermediaries. They didn’t travel hundreds of light-years to take part in conspiracies in person unless something very big was going on that one couldn’t trust to intermediaries or recorded transmissions.
“And what is it that needs your attention?” he asked.
The chief swiveled its head in a gesture that looked a lot like glancing over his shoulder. “We expected someone from Baron Mitsugawa’s camp to contact us at some time, but sooner than now.”
“I’m not that person.”
“This is known. You are not involved in the original gathering. In the time recently past, Baron Keltan and Heiress Cronus’ defection is the cause of much despair. We fear there is no contact in the time to come. Few of the originals remain.”
Nero scrunched his brow. “Um, that’s a bit confusing. I need a moment.”
I think I can straighten this out for you. He’s saying that there was some kind of group in the past that Baron Mitsugawa and he belonged to. It was recently in the news that Heiress Sophiathena and Baron Keltan switched parties to the Mercantiles, an act publicly denounced by both Baroness and Heir-Representative Cronus.
“Are you saying that yourself and the Barons Cronus, Keltan, and Mitsugawa were involved in something together?” he asked.
“Yes, Praetor Graves, I am. The purpose is to block the attempt by Baron Revenant to take control of the Confederation. It started long before now, even before my involvement, but the Baron Revenant is a clever opponent. Few now remain.”
“Are you claiming Baron Revenant is staging a coup?” His eyes widened. Claiming a baron was committing treason was a heavy charge to level. Such a thing had never been done before in the history of the Confederation.
“Proof is hard to locate, but I am. I know you must now arrest me for saying so. I am ready to go without fighting, but I am not ready to show what we know. If you arrest me now, it will take away attention from where it belongs. If what I say is true, the Baron Revenant will win.” Irin shifted his weight in a slow, flowing motion. His plates clicked against each other, rattling like a bag of bones.
He’s correct, Nero. No doubt his nation would raise an objection, creating a diplomatic incident. Furthermore, the trial would prove to be a media circus. If there is a conspiracy going on to seize control of the Confederation, such an incident would provide an excellent cover for the traitors to operate in.
“Why tell me this, knowing I might arrest you?” Nero asked.
“My daughter is a Heartseer. She said you are a good man with pure intentions. Among my kind, this has a deep meaning. I trust you.”
As an Abyssian, Nero was feared and respected, even hated by most beings he encountered. Trust was not a word he heard associated with Abyssians. To hear it now planted a strange feeling within his chest he was unfamiliar with. It was uncomfortable, but compelled him to explore it none the less.
Let’s see how far this trust goes. Ask him about Siren.
“Before he died, Baron Mitsugawa Yoji was talking about something called Siren. Do you know what it is?” He watched the large alien carefully for any twitch of muscle that might give something away, though what such a gesture might mean could be completely indecipherable.
“Siren is the means by which Baron Revenant intends to seize control. We do not know much more, but my daughter, I think, does by now. She is
on the planet Elmorus. Ask her, and you will have your answer.”
Elmorus is on the Broghite border. It’s a war zone.
“I’ve been to those before,” he muttered. To the Chief he said, “I’ll check it out. The only other lead in this case I have takes me to Thein.”
The Savorchan’s entire body shuddered. The movement was so sudden that Nero nearly jumped back. His hand was half-way to his pistol before he realized it was Chief Irin’s reaction to what he’d said and not a hostile move.
“Be warned, Praetor Graves. The VoQuana are the ancient enemy of the Savorchans. Baron Revenant has promised them much,” Chief Irin said.
He wet his lips, feeling the rough burn scars with his tongue. Things were starting to add up quickly in his head. If the Chief was to be trusted, it meant that the VoQuana were involved in Zalor’s conspiracy, and may have even engineered the nanomachine that was used in Baron Mitsugawa’s death. If he was presently talking to those responsible, then the Chief was simply trying to turn him against pursuing the real lead. However, Maskhim Sinuthros definitely gave him a feeling of trepidation, where Chief Irin did not.
Nero always trusted his gut, and right now one thing was abundantly clear: he could not take Maskhim Sinuthros along on this investigation. Not that he wanted to in the first place, but now the Maskhim was a suspect. He was relieved.
“Do you have proof that Baron Revenant and the VoQuana are conspiring together?”
“Not that I can share without gathering with the others. My daughter, if she was successful, will have all the proof you require,” Chief Irin said.
“Where is she on Elmorus?” he asked.
Behind the Chief, the undergrowth stirred. He leaned in close and his voice became a piercing whisper. “There is a hidden facility built by our enemies in a place called the Lokhari Forest. You will find her camped near the Cephalon temple ruins in that place.”
Khepria emerged from the trembling undergrowth followed by the two younger humans he had seen before. The older woman was not with them. Her ears twitched excitedly above her braids.
“Thank you,” he said to Chief Irin.
The large Savorchan nodded his odd head.
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