The Gilded Empire

by Ryan W. Mueller

  Berig thought back to his time growing up there. Those days felt like a mere ghost of a memory, as if they belonged to another lifetime. Was he the same person who'd struggled to survive on the streets of Bradenton? Or had leaving the Empire changed him as Danica had always suggested.

  Danica. He thought of how her smile could lift everyone's spirits, how her words could convince him he was capable of anything. If anyone could survive the Shadowed Land, it was Danica. But would he ever see her again, or would she become like his memories of home?

  In their time on the road, he'd grown closer to Lara. But she was clearly too beautiful to feel anything for him. He'd cleaned up his appearance a bit back in Luminia, but now his beard had grown unruly again. He was too rough for her, too dumb, too ordinary.

  They stopped at a well-kept inn. Friendly chatter filled the common room, and most of the people looked as if they weren't dangerous. A few questionable people sat in the corners, but everyone ignored them, and they seemed to ignore everyone else in return.

  "How're we gonna go about this?" Berig asked as they stood near the inn's entrance. A thin layer of smoke filled the room, but it smelled clean otherwise.

  Aric ran a hand through his reddish beard. "Not really sure."

  "Shouldn't we just ask somebody?" Lara said.

  Berig appreciated that side of Lara. She was the kind of person who took a direct approach, so she knew how to get things done. Berig wished he could do the same.

  "I'm not sure that's wise," Aric said. "We're talking about breaking a law."

  "Not a Luminian law," Lara said. She strode forward and stopped at the bar, behind which the innkeeper was working, handing out drinks and serving food.

  The man looked up at her. "You need something?"

  She kept her voice low. "We need to get across the border."

  Berig's entire body tensed as he awaited the innkeeper's response.

  "I know a man who can help you," said the innkeeper. "Follow me."

  Berig couldn't quite let go of his tension, and now he suspected the innkeeper had agreed too readily. Berig had always been suspicious by nature, and the last few months hadn't changed a thing. Then again, he'd never found any reason to distrust the citizens of Luminia. They were quite different from anyone he'd ever met. Very few of them had been unpleasant in any way.

  The innkeeper led them across the crowded common room, weaving between wooden tables, most of which were occupied. The smell of various drinks hung in the air, and Berig thought briefly of returning to his old ways, but he pushed those thoughts aside. That was a side of himself he never wanted to see again.

  They approached one of the more questionable types seated in a corner of the room, at a table that looked more weathered than the others. The man was large and muscular with a short brown beard. Scars crisscrossed his face.

  "What do you want?" he asked, looking up from a plate of meat and vegetables.

  Lara stepped toward him, showing no fear. "We need to cross the border."

  "You got money?"

  "How much do you want?" Lara asked.

  "How much you got?"

  "I'm not going to let you overcharge us," Lara said. "Name your price."

  "You know how to play this game." He tapped his fingers on the wooden table. "Ten gold coins."

  They had enough money to meet that price, but it still seemed excessive.

  "Five," Lara said.

  "Ten," said the smuggler. "Take it or leave it. I'm not lowering my price."

  Lara narrowed her eyes. "Seven."

  "Did you not hear me? Ten gold coins. Accept my offer or leave me alone."

  "Just give him ten," Aric said. "He knows he's in a position that he can charge us anything he wants."

  The smuggler chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't go that far. I have to keep my rates competitive with my rivals. Otherwise, I'd get no business."

  "It still seems like a lot," Lara said.

  "In case you haven't noticed, you're asking me to do something very dangerous. I require appropriate compensation for risking my life."

  With a sigh, Lara took ten gold coins from her pocket and handed them to the smuggler. He examined the coins for a few moments before slipping them into his own pocket.

  "It's best if we cross the border at night," he said. "But it'll still be dangerous."

  "We know," Aric said. "We've accepted the risk."

  The smuggler nodded. "Then meet me at midnight right here in the common room."

  He didn't ask for their names, and they didn't ask for his. They were only going to associate with each other for one night, and then they'd never see each other again.

  Still, Berig felt uneasy about their deal as they shared dinner in the common room. "You sure we should trust him?"

  "No," Aric said. "But we haven't got much choice."

  "As long as he gets us across the border," Lara said, "I don't care how I feel about him. He's a smuggler. He's not going to be the most decent human being, but smugglers are motivated by money, and we're paying him well."

  Berig swallowed a bite of soggy vegetables. "But that's the problem. What if someone else is paying him better?"

  "Paying him better to do what?" Lara asked.

  "I don’t know."

  Berig, Lara, and Aric retired to a room for the rest of the evening. They managed a few hours of sleep before midnight arrived, and then they made their way down to the common room, where they found the smuggler sitting at the same table in the corner.

  "You ready?" he asked, getting to his feet.

  They all nodded, though Berig felt even more uneasy now. Maybe it was the fact that they were doing something that could get them executed, but he still couldn't shake his distrust of the smuggler. This man was not like Klint. Berig caught no hints of a decent man beneath the rough exterior. Instead, Berig thought he saw a man who'd do anything for the right price.

  Night was a dark shadow upon the city as they left the inn. A few torches glowed, casting dancing black shadows against the walls of buildings. There was a definite chill to the air, a reminder that summer was long behind them.

  The smuggler led them out of the city and to the east. As they traveled, he placed his hand against the invisible barrier every few minutes. Then he'd shake his head, and they'd start walking again. Berig didn't understand.

  "Don't you know where the weak spots are?" he asked.

  "It's not so easy," said the smuggler. "They move from day to day." He fell silent, running his hand along the invisible barrier. Berig caught no hint of anyone on the other side of the border, but he still worried that someone would catch them.

  At last, the smuggler stopped, and his hand pushed through the invisible barrier. "This is the spot," he said. "Now let's hurry across before anyone notices."

  Berig peered across the dark, tree-filled landscape beyond. "I don't see anyone."

  "For now," the smuggler said. "But they're alerted whenever someone crosses the barrier. Even what I just did is enough to alert them, so let's get moving."

  They crossed the barrier. Berig felt the same slight resistance he'd experienced back in the Empire. Lara hesitated, apparently noticing the same thing, but Aric stepped through as if nothing were there.

  "That all there is to it?" Berig asked.

  "Not quite. There are two barriers: an inner barrier and an outer barrier. We've crossed the outer barrier, but we've got a few miles to go before we can cross the inner barrier." The smuggler began waking. "The weak spots are more consistent on the inner barrier. Follow me and you should be fine."

  They walked through the darkness, skirting between trees. The only sound was that of leaves crunching beneath their feet. They did not talk, for any sound might carry enough to alert the empire's border guards. Berig's chest felt tighter and tighter as they traveled.

  The smuggler appeared to know where he was going, but there was no proof that he was leading them toward a weak spot in the barrier. Maybe he was leading them to the border guard
s.

  The forest thickened, and soon their path became difficult to navigate. Berig tensed at every sound. A loud footstep. An owl hooting in the distance. A few times, he thought he heard voices nearby, but then he figured he was imagining things.

  The longer they walked, though, the more his skin prickled. Soon he heard the voices again, louder. He couldn't be imagining them.

  Heart pounding, he held up a hand. "I hear voices."

  "Keep moving," said the smuggler, pulling him forward.

  Berig broke free from his grip. "You're heading right toward the voices."

  "I know."

  Berig, Lara, and Aric all looked at him with wide eyes.

  "Over here!" he called out. Then he lowered his voice. "It's nothing personal. I just like to make money, and the border guards pay well."

  Lara glared at him. "You lead people to their deaths for money. That's disgusting!"

  "You're the ones who choose to risk your lives," he said. "I can't help it if you're so stupid that you'd risk your lives and trust a man you just met."

  Sounds came from all around them. Twigs snapping. Leaves rustling. Tense voices. A few moments later, soldiers appeared, dressed in armor unlike anything Berig had ever seen. It was black and looked sturdy, but it was also cushioned, unlike plate armor back home.

  The soldiers pointed strange devices at the party, holding these devices in both hands. Berig didn't need to know what exactly they were to know that they were weapons, and probably much deadlier than anything Berig had ever encountered.

  One soldier stepped forward. "You've done well," he said to the smuggler. "Two of my men will escort you back across the border and deliver your payment."

  The smuggler smiled. "It's been a pleasure working with you."

  The soldier ignored him, turning his attention to Berig's party. "Another three trying to cross into the empire. I assume you know the law."

  Berig's throat felt dry. "Do you really execute everyone who crosses?"

  "That's our policy."

  Berig glanced at his companions. They were all armed, but they stood no chance against all the soldiers who'd surrounded them.

  "Now lay down your weapons," said the man. "Slowly."

  They all placed their weapons on the ground. There was no point trying anything, not right now. At the very least, it looked like they might face a trial of some sort. After all, the soldiers hadn't killed them right here. Maybe there was still a chance.

  "You are under arrest," said the man. "You have the right to a trial, but that's about it."

  "Is there any reason to stand trial?" Lara asked.

  The soldier considered for a moment. "It isn't unheard of for judges to take a more lenient approach. But I wouldn't depend on it." He turned to his men. "Take 'em to the prison."

  Chapter 6: The President

  Nadia couldn't stop staring as Captain Cress led them through the palace. Everywhere she turned, there were strange sights she couldn't even describe. Glowing lights of all colors. Bizarre mechanical beings hovering through the halls. Doors that opened with a low hiss as people approached. The residents of the palace walked by, wearing clothes that looked pristine, as if they'd been made by perfect machines.

  She saw computers all over the palace. People were working at many of these computers, handling the devices with a level of ease that astonished her.

  The corridors twisted along. Nadia, Markus, and Captain Cress followed a few spiraling staircases upward. At last, they stood before a large door. Lights glowed upon a panel at its side, and two guards stood outside the door, alert and unmoving.

  "I have the two the president's been waiting for," said Captain Cress.

  The guards nodded, and one of them entered the room, the door opening with that strange hissing sound. There was a quiet conversation, and then the guard returned, motioning for them to step inside. Nadia's stomach clenched as she followed Captain Cress through the door.

  The room beyond was perhaps even more lavish than the rest of the palace. Everything seemed to gleam. The wooden furniture. The metallic walls. The chandeliers hanging far above.

  At the far end of the room, a man set behind a wooden desk. He was middle-aged and clean-shaven, with dark hair and an expression that said crossing him would be the last thing you ever did. He stood as they entered, and then came forward to greet them.

  "I'm President Marten Davison," he said. He shook her hand and then Markus's. "You must be Nadia and Markus. I've been waiting for you." He turned his gaze to Captain Cress. "You may go. I'll make sure you're compensated."

  Captain Cress inclined his head respectfully before leaving the chamber. The doors closed behind him, and even the guards stepped out of the room. Nadia exchanged a nervous glance with Markus. What did the president want from them?

  "You're probably wondering why I've gone to all this trouble," the president said, motioning for them to take a seat in two chairs in front of the desk. Once he sat down across from them, he said, "To tell you the truth, it's rather complicated."

  "I don't appreciate being a prisoner when I've done nothing wrong," Nadia said.

  "I understand, but it was unavoidable. As a Technomage, I have read the Webs of Fate, and it seems that you two are perhaps two of the most important people who have ever lived. So many major strands cluster around you. It's absolutely fascinating."

  Nadia sighed. "Can we never escape the Webs of Fate?"

  "That's actually why I brought you here," the president said. "You have heard of Krinir, haven't you?"

  Nadia and Markus both shook their heads.

  The president stroked his chin, as if taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "To understand what I want from you, you must understand the history of our world. No doubt you've heard claims of how everything happened, but here in the New Earth Empire, we have the actual records. We know the truth of how we came to be here."

  Nadia leaned forward with interest, though she didn't trust the man.

  "It is true that technology led to the destruction of the Old World, but technology is not truly to blame. It is merely a tool. The blame for ending the world before falls to the human beings who made the decisions to use that technology unwisely. When two of the world's great religions went to war, they used bombs so destructive they clogged the air with debris. The sun's warmth couldn't penetrate all this debris, and so the world grew frigidly cold.

  "In this time, when humanity nearly died out, the gods chose a few groups of people to cross over to this new world, Terra—or as we like to call it, New Earth. This world was much like Earth, but it didn't have humans on it. When we arrived, most of us came with nothing but the clothes on our backs, but a few people managed to sneak in Old World secrets. That's how we ended up with a place like the New Earth Empire.

  "But some of the gods aren't happy that we've retained Old World technology, and even improved upon it. Lionar and Rador would see us live like savages, but Krinir believes in our right to possess this technology. Like us, he sees that human political systems and human religions are the problem. Technology is not. It makes our lives better in every way imaginable."

  Nadia couldn't help but remember some of the things Warrick had said back in Riverside, when he'd given that speech she'd hated so much. And if this Krinir, whoever he was, disagreed with Warrick, then he had to be on the right side.

  "This is where you come in," the president said. "The Webs reveal that you are a threat to Krinir. For the moment, he is trapped in the Shadowed Land, but that may not remain the case. If and when he emerges, I need your promise that you will not oppose him."

  The president was clearly a practiced liar, but Nadia could see deception in his eyes. He may not have directly lied about anything, but there was something he wasn't telling them.

  Markus gave him a stern look. "How can we promise something like that when we know so little about him?"

  "I could simply kill you," the president said, his gaze turning icy. "Would you prefer that?"


  Nadia looked into his eyes, feeling chilled by what she saw there. "Tell us more about Krinir."

  "You've heard of the Great War, haven't you?"

  Nadia and Markus both nodded.

  "All right. The Great War was, more or less, a war between Lionar's supporters and Krinir's supporters—and, by extension, between the gods themselves. Lionar favored the gods' new plan for mankind: magic. Krinir favored both magic and technology."

  Nadia considered for a moment. "But how do you know that technology is the right path to take? It did destroy the world once. Couldn't it do the same again?"

  "It could, but we have expressly forbidden development of the weapons that destroyed the Old World. These weapons were called nuclear bombs, and they were the most destructive things we ever invented. We have deleted all information about them from our databases."

  "But couldn't somebody develop them again?" Nadia asked.

  "That is why we are so protective of our secrets. We understand the danger involved. Unfortunately, some areas of research tread too close to the knowledge of how to make these bombs. If we let that research spread to the rest of the world, somebody would take advantage of that and develop these bombs. Then we'd all be in danger."

  Nadia leaned forward in her chair, trying to take in everything he'd said. "I still don't quite understand. Why did you fight the Great War then? Couldn't you have just done what you're doing now: hiding your knowledge from the rest of the world?"

  "That is not our ultimate goal. No, we seek to bring our prosperity to the rest of the world. The best way to do that is with Krinir back in this world. Our technology is powerful, yes, but so are the sorcerers of Luminia. They would defeat us again without Krinir's help."

  "But Krinir failed in the Great War," Markus said, startling Nadia. "Won't he fail again?"

  "We have reason to believe he won't fail this time," the president said. His expression tightened, and Nadia knew he would not clarify that response any further.