Death to the Imperium (Imperium Cicernus)
Page 11
“Then, around ten years ago, I took a hallucinogenic drug called Morpheus, which is banned across the galaxy due to severe neurological side effects. But, far from destroying my mind, the drug gave me a wondrous vision. Oh, the vision! I saw a future of kindness and prosperity, a galaxy under the umbrella of a utopian rule, shielded from dictating rain. I saw the Imperium transformed into a democratic peacekeeping organisation, committed to dispensing wisdom and justice. All inequality had been stamped out; every worker was paid fairly, and no one went hungry.” Ozytan’s eyes became even more wide. It was if a tiny flame had been lit behind each pupil. “What was more—I saw the means of achieving that vision. Morpheus showed me how the utopian future could be attained; it gave me a plan.”
Tekka, Glitz, Doland and Alyce watched silently as Ozytan carried on speaking.
“I already knew of a planet called Chaos, a planet of terrible natural events and fierce predators. But I finally understood the potential of the world. It was to become the foundation of a brand new species.” Ozytan grinned. “Imagine a life form born into chaos. From its first waking breath, this creature is hounded on every side by chemical storms and vicious animals. Every second of its life is a bitter fight for survival, acted out on the stage of an unforgiving, uncaring world.”
“Such a creature would be terrible,” Tekka said.
“Precisely,” Ozytan said. “Humans, while having the potential for goodness, have evolved many undesirable traits on a planet as nourishing as Homeworld—or wherever else the humans came into being. Imagine what kind of animal would be produced by millions of years of evolution on a world such as Chaos.”
Tekka was imagining it—and it was almost too terrible to consider.
“But producing such an organism would take millions of years, and there would be the risk of the creature becoming extinct before it reached a sufficient level of ruthlessness. Right?” Ozytan tapped his stick excitedly as his voice rose in fervour. “Wrong! I have managed to evolve such a creature in a matter of weeks!”
“It is not possible,” Tekka said.
“On the contrary, it is perfectly possible. You see, after seeing my wondrous vision, I started up a corporation called the East Galaxy Company—perhaps you have heard of it.” Glitz raised his eyebrows. He had worked for that company for years, but had never found out who owned it. “I sold my shares in the company two years ago for fifty billion credits, and used the funds to develop a chrono-disrupter.”
“Ah,” Tekka said.
“A chrono-what?” Doland said.
“The device was designed to seal this planet within a time bubble—accelerating the march of time within the isolation field. In short, it would allow millions of years to take place inside the bubble, when only a few days have passed outside it.”
Tekka turned to Glitz. “Remember when we landed on the planet? There was a heavy disturbance on our chronometer. That must have been the time field.”
Ozytan nodded. “Of course, the acceleration process has finished, so we are currently existing at normal time.” He smiled, as if admiring his own cleverness. “One thing was clear to me after experiencing my vision. I knew that the Imperium could only be taken down by a creature of utter depravity. I had to evolve an animal with no compassion, no kindness, and no emotions except anger and hatred. And I have succeeded.” He thrust his staff out towards the door. “Behold—the Weerms!”
On cue, the two creatures that had been guarding the conference room stepped inside it. They were the same type of creature that had attacked Glitz in the cave. They were human shaped, but with snake-like skin, under which powerful muscles rippled. They had vicious claws attached to every limb, as well as a barbed tail. Their teeth were like jagged pieces of painted glass.
“My Weerms…” Ozytan said, with the pride of a father showing off the accomplishments of his sons. “Living proof that—given a hostile enough environment—evil is a desirable evolutionary characteristic.”
Alyce and the three men were speechless in the face of the creatures. After hearing Ozytan’s story, they all felt a sense of horror. To create such a creature… it was madness.
“What source material did you use?” Tekka said quietly, somehow already guessing the answer. “From which animal did you evolve these creatures?”
Ozytan stood up to his full height, basking in the glory of his creation. “From us, of course. The Weerms are the evolutionary descendants of a hundred thousand slaves that were bought from the Crystal Mines of Ziridian. They are the distillation of every malevolent impulse that exists in the human brain, stripped of all goodness.”
Alyce stared at the two Weerms, feeling a sickness well up in her stomach. So they used to be human…
Doland pulled out one of the diamonds from his pocket, and showed it to Ozytan. “I found this buried in the dust. I suppose you had something to do with this, too?”
Ozytan smiled, glancing at the glinting object. “Of course. I used various scientific methods to encourage the formation of precious stones during the millions of accelerated years. When I harvested the Weerms, I also mined a huge quantity of diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds—the stones will help to fund my military campaign against the Imperium.” He nodded at Doland. “You can keep whatever you found. They are simply the table-droppings of what I have already collected.”
Doland tucked the stone inside his pocket, hoping that Oyztan wouldn’t change his mind. Glitz was horrified by Ozytan’s actions, but a part of him felt that it wasn’t anything to do with him. He had always kept out of politics, and since his dismissal from the army he had had nothing to do with the military—not until he was coerced into going along on the current mission. The Weerms were clearly dreadful beings, but that only made him want to get away from them as quickly as possible. But before he left the planet he wanted to find some precious stones of his own…
Tekka pulled out a ruby, and held it under the light. “Surely the chrono-disrupter had a certain destabilising effect on the planet’s molecules? Of course, the vibrations would cause little problem within the isolated field, but how did you manage to remove the Weerms and the precious stones from the planet?”
“Ah, that was a significant problem,” Ozytan said, smiling. “And I must say that it is a pleasure to speak to someone with a scientific turn of mind. I got around the problem by using a ship fitted with a second chrono-disrupter—the effect was to remove the vibrations by oscillating on a reverse frequency.”
Tekka nodded, feeling some admiration towards Ozytan. He might have committed acts of unspeakable atrocity, but he was also clearly a genius.
Alyce looked with disgust at Ozytan. She certainly didn’t have any admiration for the man. “Why are you telling us all of this?”
“Simple. I want you to report everything to the Senate.” Ozytan beamed; he could tell that his words had surprised them. “Yes, indeed. At first, when the acceleration was in process, I went to great lengths to ensure that the procedure was not interrupted—including destroying any ships that came near.”
Doland looked puzzled. Was Ozytan really going to let them go after telling them all of his plans? Why would he want the Grand Senate to know about his scheme? Surely it was some sort of trap.
“I want you to tell them all about my plan, and I want them to realise that the inexorable march of the Weerms cannot be prevented. They do not injure, or tire, or feel. They are unstoppable, and I want my brother—along with the rest of the Senate—to know that control of the Imperium will shortly be taken from them.”
Alyce exchanged a glance with Glitz. Ozytan pointed to the door. “What are you waiting for? Off you go. Tell the Senate everything you have seen here.”
Frowning, Tekka stood up, and the others followed. Edging carefully past the terrible Weerms, they left the conference room, and stepped off the ship back into the chaotic dust.
“Well, looks like we know where we’re going next,” Alyce said. “Let’s go back to Lightworld.”
Doland felt something warm in his pocket. He stuck in his hand, and realised with dismay that his precious stones had turned to dust, and so had Tekka’s.
“It was to be expected,” Tekka said. “The artificial time field is too destabilising; objects cannot be taken off the planet without prior stabilisation. Weren’t you listening to Ozytan?”
Tekka scowled, feeling cheated. He would have been able to buy so much with those jewels… He returned to his bunk, closed his eyes, and tried to sleep. Alyce stayed on the flight deck, staring out at the stars, and thinking about the dreadful Weerms.
Chapter Thirteen
Lightworld
Volori System
The arrival of their ship to Lightworld caused some consternation. When they approached the strange planet, the protection forces on Lightworld went into full alert, ready to shoot down the bizarre ship. It didn’t look like a threat, but it was a historic tactic to hide powerful weaponry in a seemingly innocuous ship, allowing it to get near to its target without raising alarm. The First Naval Lord himself was notified that an unidentified ship was in the vicinity of the planet, and asked for permission to destroy it.
But, at that moment, Alyce finally managed to make a successful communication with the planet. The communicator on the Wreck had been malfunctioning, and they had not been able to contact Lightworld or respond to their commands to identify themselves.
“Do not fire!” Alyce said urgently. “I repeat: do not fire! This is Captain Alyce Wickham, serving under the direct orders of the First Naval Lord. Do not fire!”
There was a pause, and Alyce held her breath. The men were clenching their fists, sweating. If they didn’t believe her identity…
“Permission granted for landing, Captain,” the voice said. “Come on down.”
Alyce exhaled slowly, cursing herself for not keeping the Beetle. She was almost certainly going to be in trouble for causing such alarm. Not only that, she had traded away Imperial property. She couldn’t help feeling some trepidation, but she managed to keep her emotions in check and made a successful landing on the planet’s surface.
They stepped out of the Wreck, and looked around at the planet. Alyce rarely got a chance to see the exterior of the planet up close; members of the Navy ranking lower than admiral were rarely required to visit Lightworld. As directed, she had landed the ship in a white circle many miles away from the main “city”, a security precaution because the ship was unknown. The planet’s curious atmosphere meant that the sky was a dull sepia colour, and the white terrain was perfectly level. In the distance, Alyce could see some of the maze-like structures that spread all across the planet, almost forming a circuit-board pattern. The air was perfectly still, and seemed oddly artificial—it was like breathing from an oxygen tank.
After they had waited outside the ship for a few moments, a roaring sound filled the air, increasing in intensity. Some sort of vehicle was heading in their direction. As it came closer, Alyce saw that it was a standard levitating buggy. It stopped at the ship, and an officer got off it, saluting to Alyce. It was Midshipman Barnes, the man that had accompanied her to Lightworld.
“Good to see you, Midshipman,” Alyce said, secretly relieved that it was no one more senior. It meant that she might not be in so much trouble after all.
“Likewise, Captain,” Midshipman Barnes said, smiling. He gestured to the buggy. “Please have a seat. I’ll take you straight to the Admiralty Board.”
They climbed into the buggy, which began to move again. Tekka stared out of the window, trying to observe as much as possible. Information about the planet was scarce, because no one except trusted members of the Navy and a few other privileged people were ever allowed near it.
The buggy reached the building after a short ride. It was an imposing building carved from white stone. The shape was almost a pyramid. Tekka knew from their last visit to Lightworld that miles of catacombs lied beneath the structure, spreading out under the ground like the roots of some great tree.
“Follow me, Captain,” Midshipman Barnes said, leading Captain Wickham and the others towards the building.
***
The full Admiralty Board was in session. Thirty officers sat at the sparkling black table, dressed in full ceremonial robes, their faces grave. They were talking in low voices, but fell silent when Alyce and her three companions were brought in. Admiral Andronica, wearing his gold-buttoned uniform, frowned when he saw what they were wearing. He didn’t think much to leather clothing.
“Welcome,” the First Naval Lord said. He managed to smile, but his face was serious. “Please say that you can enlighten us, Captain Wickham.”
“I can,” Alyce said simply. “But I fear that you will not like the truth.”
The First Naval Lord waved a hand. “Be frank and precise. Hold no piece of information back. Tell us your full report.”
“Very well.”
Alyce proceeded to relate their entire experience from the moment of leaving the spaceport. She briefly told the Board about their purchase of the scrapyard ship from the Stolnites, and the visit to Clothes Direct, before moving on to the main body of the report. She told them, with a slight tremor in her voice, about their arrival on Chaos, including the dreadful creatures they witnessed there. Finally, lowering her voice slightly, she told the First Naval Lord and the rest of the admirals about their meeting with the Emperor’s brother Ozytan, and about his terrible plan regarding the Weerms.
When Alyce had finished the report, the First Naval Lord had turned very pale. He fixed his eyes on Alyce, his face softening a little. “You have been exceptionally brave, Captain Wickham, not to mention cunning and resourceful. The idea of purchasing the scrapyard ship, and the Proteist disguises, was masterful… masterful…”
A few heads nodded in quiet agreement, and Alyce felt herself colouring a little from pride.
“And you three,” the First Naval Lord said, turning to Glitz, Doland and Tekka. “Very, very well done.”
Glitz smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
The First Naval Lord was terrified after learning of Ozytan’s plan. But his feelings would not prevent him from showing due gratitude to those that had brought him the information. Glitz, Tekka and Doland—as well as receiving full pardons from the Senate—were given a reward of fifty thousand credits each, and Captain Wickham was given two months involuntary paid leave—despite her protestations—to recover from her ordeal. If there was a war looming, she wanted to fight! She didn’t want to be hidden away on some leisure planet, away from the action. But the First Naval Lord waved away her assertions, pointing out that she was not experienced in actual warfare. The Captain was convinced that the First Naval Lord’s attitude was because she was a woman, but she didn’t dare argue further.
After they had politely thanked the First Naval Lord for his kindness, they left the Admiralty Board Room and stood outside the white structure, waiting for Midshipman Barnes. The Midshipman arrived, and took them back to their ship in the buggy.
Captain Alyce Wickham got out of the buggy with Glitz and the others, and bowed courteously.
“Thank you for your role in this mission,” she said formally. “You can be sure that your assistance is most appreciated by the Imperium.” She paused, and a slightly more human edge crept into her voice. “So… I guess this is it.”
“I guess so,” Glitz replied. “Here—you’d better have my contact chip.”
Doland and Tekka said nothing; they simply waited by the Wreck, eager to leave the planet before the First Naval Lord could change his mind and revoke their pardon.
“Right,” Alyce said, coughing. “Well… goodbye, Harlan Glitz.”
Glitz might have imagined i
t, but it almost seemed like a surge of tenderness rushed through her face. But she quickly turned, got back into the buggy, and drove back to the building with Midshipman Barnes. Glitz felt a sense of regret as she drove away, but knew deep down that their parting was inevitable. They were from different worlds. Alyce had all the admirable qualities—bravery, responsibility, patriotism. Glitz felt that he would never be able to measure up to such a woman.
He smiled weakly at Doland. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Finally,” Doland said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s get away from here.”
Without looking back, Glitz climbed into the Wreck with Doland and Tekka, and they made a speedy take-off. Within a few minutes, the planet Lightworld was simply a speck on the long-distance scanner. Glitz felt sure that he would never see Alyce Wickham ever again. He didn’t realise that he would be meeting her again very soon indeed.
Chapter Fourteen
Chamber of Stars
Ropeville
Politic System
Ropeville was the home of the Chamber of Stars, the Imperial Parliament. The Imperium was essentially an autocracy, a dictatorship presided over by a ruling body, the Grand Senate. However, there were times when the Emperor needed to call a full Parliament. Of course, the Grand Senate without exception were the real orchestrators of such events; the Emperor had no real personal power. If an Emperor called for a full session of the Chamber of Stars, it generally meant that the Senate either wanted to raise taxes or raise a larger army. In this instance, the Senate wanted to do the former.
Emperor Ferdinand was sitting in his golden throne at the head of the Parliament, waiting for all of the Planetary Ambassadors to arrive. Behind him, on rows of golden benches, sat the real figures of power—the members of the Senate. There were thousands of semi-autonomous planets in the Imperium, and each of these planets had at least one official representative in Parliament. The poor worlds, such as those on the Rim, or those with a majority alien population, were not permitted to be a member of the Chamber of Stars. On the whole, while the more favoured planets were allowed a degree of autonomy when managing their own affairs, the Grand Senate (using the Emperor as a puppet and mouthpiece, of course) had the only real power in the Imperium. However, the Senate did not have the power to raise taxes above a yearly increase of 4%. Unusual circumstances called for additional parliamentary agreement. In this instance, the Senate needed to charge all member planets of the Imperium a one-off tax, in order to fund a possible war.