“Sit down. I think we should begin,” the Zieron said. “First, I will tell you a little about our planet, race and customs. Then, you may further explain your purpose in coming here, and I will see if we may assist you in any way. Is this order of events acceptable to you?”
Alyce and Glitz glanced at one another, then nodded. “Yes,” Alyce said. They sat down in comfortable armchairs, and the Zieron sat at the other end of his wooden desk, facing them.
“Excellent. Would you like a drink?”
“Don’t suppose you have any whisky?” Glitz said hopefully.
The Zieron smiled. “As I alluded to previously, the nanobots all around us can scan your surface thoughts and create whatever you wish, within reason. If you want a… what you call a ‘whisky’, simply think about your desire for the drink, and it shall appear.”
Glitz closed his eyes, feeling pretty ridiculous, and imagined a glass of delicious John Copes whisky, freshly poured, with ice. As soon as he opened his eyes, he was amazed to see that the glass of whisky had appeared. Of course, humans had invented food and drink synthesising technology, but such technology was quite crude, and was unable to scan a person’s thoughts and use that as a pattern. Still, the proof of the replication would be in the tasting. As yet, Glitz had never encountered an artificially-constituted glass of J.C. that tasted remotely like the real thing. He took a sip. It was exactly right, down to the slightly sweet aftertaste. But then again, it had been constructed from his memory, so it should, by rights, taste exactly as he remembered it. Alyce conjured up a glass of lemon water, and began to sip it slowly.
“What are your names?”
“I’m Alyce, and this is Glitz.”
The Zieron placed his fingertips together. “My name is Rell. I am the Keeper of the Seals, a job I have enjoyed for close to seven hundred years.”
“I see.”
“Our race once started off in a similar position to humanity. We had extremely short lifespans, limited intellect, and our planet was plagued with civil war, intrigue, and despotism. But, over countless centuries, our ancestors used science to perfect our civilisation. Negative traits were rooted out from the population, lifespans were extended, the environment was perfected, and hostile neighbours were eliminated.”
Alyce frowned. “For a peaceful race, that sounds an awful lot like eugenics and fascism.”
“I do not quarrel with the terms.”
“Then you admit your civilisation was born from evil?”
“You have changed the proposition. You must remember that humanity is still at a very basic position morally. You have not yet developed an absolute scientific law of what is right and wrong. The history of your civilisation has been one of stumbling around in the dark—creating and abolishing religions, trying on different governments as you would different garments, trying desperately to ascend to a greater plane of moral understanding.”
“So you’re saying you’re better than us?”
“Those are not my words.”
Alyce paused for a second, staring at the Zieron. She hadn’t meant to get into an argument, but his words seemed odious to her. But perhaps she had been a little too quick to rush to judgement. Was she right to question the actions of a race clearly far more advanced than the humans? Besides, she was a member of the Imperial Navy, which had hardly kept its hands clean over the past few centuries.
“How big is your empire?” Glitz asked.
“Oh, three galaxies wide. At the last count, there were around 300 million hospitable planets.”
“And all containing Zierons?” Alyce asked.
“There are some alien worlds, but the population of the galaxy is 80% Zieron. Now that we have achieved peace with our neighbouring friends, we do not have any reason to interfere with their day-to-day business. The alien planets within our Empire have sworn allegiance to us, and they would be fools to renege on that promise. However, we do keep a strict policy of separation. All Zieron worlds are only for the settlement of our race. We have found it beneficial not to allow aliens and Zierons to mix.”
“Why? If the Zierons are so peaceful, what’s the problem?”
Rell laughed. “Are you a chemist? I’m sure you will agree that water is a fairly innocuous substance. It is natural and safe, and the basis for most life. But what happens when you mix water with a water-reactive chemical, such as lithium? An explosion of light and fire! Barbarians and the peaceful cannot mix!”
Alyce shrugged, and Rell smiled. “I do not wish to dispute. Let us move on to discussing your reason for visiting us. First, how did you get here?”
“My ancestor kept this crystal from the Zierons’ visit to our galaxy.” She pulled the necklace from around her neck to show Rell the pendant. The Star Point crystal glinted at the end of the chain.
“Ah, yes. The Star Point crystals were specifically designed to stimulate the opening of natural wormholes. Our original expeditionary force that entered your galaxy used these crystals to enter.” He paused. “It has been many millennia since one of our race visited the Milky Way. We have had no information since about the state of affairs in your galaxy. If you permit, I would very much like to scan your minds to discover the current situation. Then we may be able to help you with any problems.”
“Can’t you scan our brains without permission?” Alyce said.
“I could,” Rell admitted. “But that would hardly be polite, especially to a lady.”
Despite herself, Alyce smiled. She nodded at the old man. “Fine. Scan away.”
Glitz too gave his assent, and Rell raised a long-fingered hand. His fingertips hovered in front of their faces for a few moments, reaching into the furthest recesses of their minds. Luckily, Alyce had an excellent memory, and a better understanding than most of the history and state of the Imperium. Although Rell could tell that some of her historical understanding must be the result of Imperial propaganda and misinformation, he had more than enough data to fill in the gaps and see a relatively complete picture. It was exactly as he had expected. The humans, despite developing many technologies, had not taken steps toward enlightenment. They had taken the easy path followed by so many struggling species—they had developed a puzzling and irrational civilisation; they had refused to develop technology intended to perfect their race; they had allowed silly quarrels about ethics to stunt their ascendance. And now the human race faced threats on all sides. As well as all the pointless infighting, they faced rising hostility from countless alien species. Even worse, there was the matter of the Weerms. It occurred to Rell that the Weerms were the opposite of what the Zierons had achieved. While they were an enlightened race of pure reason, the Weerms were creatures of pure irrational hatred.
“Well,” Rell said simply.
“Well? Is that it?” Alyce said.
“I cannot help you. Throughout the chaotic, tapestry-like story of the Universe, there have been thousands of galactic empires. Out of those empires, a mere handful have managed to reach a state of illumination sufficient to ensure their survival. The vast majority have, by taking the wrong path, been consigned to the slagheap of history. It pains me to tell you this, but I see little hope for the Imperium.”
Alyce bit her lip before replying, trying to hold back her temper. “How can you say that? History isn’t written for us. Our future can always be changed.”
“Granted. But I’m afraid that your race has taken a course that cannot be readily altered. Your species is charging towards barbarism with an almost irresistible momentum. The Imperium is riddled with weaknesses. Both your Grand Senate and your armed forces are ruled over by an aristocratic elite, the members of which mostly have no real political or military genius. Your society is corrupted.”
“Admittedly, yes. But we can change things! What do you even know about it?”
“Forgive me, but I have drawn all of my conclusions from data stored in your own memory. You have convicted your own species.”
Alyce scowled. In a way, she could see
the Zieron’s reasoning. The Imperium was certainly loaded down with injustice, suffering and bureaucracy. She did not disagree with his statements about the state of the empire; rather, she did not accept that change was so unlikely.
“Is it really that bad?” Glitz said.
“I fear so. Your grand empire is slowly turning into Hhesteran Shahsha. In the Zieron tongue, this means Empire of Ashes.”
Alyce stared at the wooden table. Ever since she was a little girl, she had dreamed about the Zierons. She had envisioned their grand return through a wormhole, ready to bring peace and prosperity to the galaxy. But the Zierons were different to how she had imagined. They had formed their peaceful empire by means she considered immoral, and now Rell was prophesying the end of the Imperium as if he was discussing an unfavourable weather forecast.
“The problem is,” Rell said, “whatever political regime you implement, you will not be able to change the fact that the human race is degenerate. Humans share the characteristics of all emerging intelligent species—self-interest, lust, envy… There is nothing wrong with these traits when a race is evolving. Quite the contrary, in fact. Such traits are very beneficial when only the fittest can survive.” Rell sighed. “But now you have entered an age where you must take control over your evolution. The selfish traits must be eliminated from your species if you are to have any chance of lasting peace.”
Alyce shrugged again. She felt an instinctive disagreement with Rell’s words, although she could not think of a valid argument to oppose him. She had always believed sincerely in the inherent goodness of the human race. Sure, there were bad eggs in every species, but she had always been convinced that the humans would eventually overcome their problems through reasoning and diplomacy. But Rell was arguing that such an outcome was impossible, due to the inherent flaws in the human species. His argument was that humans would have to be genetically altered in order to find peace.
“I sense that you find our methods of procuring peace distasteful,” Rell said. “If it may ease your mind, let me point out that if all humans were like you, Alyce Wickham, I would not have a fear for the future of the Imperium. You are a pure individual—an anomaly among a egoistic race. You are an embodiment of all that is good and virtuous about the humans.” Rell waved a hand; a glass of amber liquid appeared. He took a sip. “However, all humans are not like you. And that is why I believe that the Imperium is doomed to fail.”
“But you said that genetic alteration would save the species,” Glitz said.
Rell smiled. “I did. But I hardly think that such an action would ever be permitted by the Grand Senate. Removing humanity’s imperfections would be tantamount to creating a new race—a perfect race. The old humanity would cease to exist. You would have to commit self-genocide.”
Glitz frowned. “Is that what you did?”
“Yes.”
Alyce shuddered.
“How long do you reckon the Imperium has left?” Glitz said.
“Your friend is correct in her statement that the future of the Imperium is firmly in humanity’s hands. It is not impossible for the destiny of your empire to be altered, although it would be most difficult. However, providing the Imperium continues along its current path, I would estimate the Imperium to collapse in less than one thousand years.”
“One thousand years!”
“You may laugh, my friend, but a millennium is no time at all in the grand scheme of things. We Zierons, due to our improved lifespans, do not often deal in such insignificant increments as years or decades.”
“OK, so the Imperium is likely to end in a thousand years. But what about our current problems? We came to visit your planet for help. The Weerms are threatening our entire civilisation. If we don’t stop them, our society is likely to collapse a lot sooner.”
The Zieron pondered Glitz’s words for a moment. “I believe that the Weerm threat will be neutralised. Certainly, they have horrific personalities, but the human history has been one of conquering seemingly insurmountable obstacles. Although I believe that the Imperium will fall, I am convinced that the humans will survive.”
“It’s all right you saying that,” Alyce said, “but—no offence—the assurance of an alien is hardly enough for us to sleep easily. Is there anything you can do to help us ward off the threat?”
“Like building us a weapon,” Glitz added hopefully. He knew from even a slight encounter with the Zieron civilisation that they had technology so advanced that it would be considered miraculous in their own galaxy.
“I am afraid that we no longer create weapons. We have guaranteed our dominion through impenetrable defence systems, and through the non-violent suppression of neighbouring races. We no longer have any need for guns or bombs. Weapons could only introduce an destabilising factor in our society; therefore, they are forbidden by the Zieron Code.”
“But you wouldn’t be building guns for yourself,” Glitz replied.
Rell shook his head. “It is out of the question. I am sorry.”
“Then what’s the point of you?” Alyce blurted out angrily. “My family has been trying to locate your people for generations, in the hope that you could guide our race out of the darkness. But you’re not even willing to help us!” She paused.
“I did not say exactly that.” Rell paused, pressing his forefinger to his lips thoughtfully. “In fact, there is a weapon in existence that might well be effective against your enemy. The weapon in question is located onboard your ship, the Middlemarch.”
Alyce’s heart began to pound. “What?”
“When I scanned your memories, I couldn’t help noticing an odd detail.” He turned to Glitz. “When you collected that medical equipment from the planet Hansea, it had been due to be recalled by the East Galaxy Company, which had delivered it in the first place. You assumed that the Cellzers must have had some sort of fault. But, if you recall, the Cellzers revealed themselves to be in perfect working order.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Who owns the East Galaxy Company?”
“Ozytan. Ah…” Glitz was starting to see where Rell was coming from. “So—so you think Ozytan recalled the Cellzers because he realised that they might be effective as weapons against the Weerms?”
“I cannot say anything for certain, but it seems likely.”
“I’ve still got one two of the Cellzers on the ship. If we can take them back to the Navy, they can analyse them, find out if they could be used as offensive weapons.” It was a long shot, but Rell’s reasoning was sound. Why else would the East Galaxy Company have wanted to recall the Cellzers? It had seemed odd at the time that an armed guard was protecting the equipment, but he hadn’t really thought about it.
“So that’s it?” Alyce said savagely. “We cross into your galaxy, untold billions of parsecs across the Universe, for some speculation about a piece of medical equipment?”
The old man smiled. “Here you are the aliens.”
Alyce frowned. “Why are you being so unhelpful? I mean, you gave us the phase drive, so why not—”
“You seem to be under some misapprehension,” Rell said. “The Zierons did not give the humans any such thing.”
“You… you didn’t?”
Rell shook his head. “No. We passed into your galaxy on a purely investigative mission. We did not give you technology of any kind. Wherever you obtained phase drive technology—well, it was not from the Zierons.”
Alyce felt tears welling up in her eyes. Glitz put an arm around her. He was slightly puzzled by Alyce’s sadness and anger, until he considered that she had dreamed about meeting the Zierons since she was a little girl. He still remembered the day when he was seven years old, when he had first discovered that the Gift Goblin wasn’t real. He had sneaked down in the middle of the night, and discovered his mother leaving wrapped presents under the Chime Tree. He had cried all night, despite feeling vaguely ashamed about being so upset. Alyce had discovered that, while the Zierons did truly exist, that they did not match up with h
er fantastical expectations. In fact, they held strictly to a set of beliefs that she found abhorrent, and viewed the humans under a deeply misanthropic lens. It was like a child learning that the Gift Goblin was actually an evil creature that stole children’s presents.
“There must be something else you can do,” Glitz muttered.
“I’m sorry. But you must understand that every Zieron is strictly bound by the Code. To disobey would mean death.”
The three sat in silence for a second; Alyce silently fumed, Glitz thought about the Zieron’s words, and Rell contemplated the two humans in silence, staring at them from under bushy eyebrows. A bell tolled dimly outside the room, and Rell was drawn out of his brown study.
“Ah. The Winter Festival is about to begin.”
Chapter Eighteen
“The Winter Festival?” Glitz repeated.
“It is a very special time for the inhabitants of this planet. This world is called Zieros; it is the home world of the Zierons. Environmental conditions on our planet are decidedly peculiar, in comparison to your world. Each season lasts for a full year, which on Zieros is composed of three hundred days, each of a duration of twenty hours. And we only have two seasons—summer and winter.”
“Must get tedious,” Alyce muttered.
“Not at all. Each season provides a refreshing contrast from the other. Of course, seasons are rather less extreme than on many planets within the Imperium. You have already witnessed our summer. The sun is warm, yet mild, and plant and animal life can flourish without fear of overheating. Our winter is similarly gentle. We have lots of snow, but temperatures rarely fall below freezing temperature. Winter, for many Zierons, is a time of study and meditation, following the physical labour and energetic activity of the summer months.”
“So what’s this festival?”
“At the beginning of every summer and winter, we crown a ceremonial king in a lavish ceremony. This kingship carries no administrative or governmental responsibilities. The king is chosen purely as a result of special accomplishment. It is a fine way to honour outstanding citizens. Today, the Winter King will be crowned, which will herald the beginning of the season.”
Death to the Imperium (Imperium Cicernus) Page 16