Voice of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book Three)

by Lawrence White

  “That’s just it. No privacy, ever. There are times I want privacy, with my wife for instance. How do you deal with that?”

  “It hasn’t been a problem, Josh. Ellie and I both have Riders. You can always work out private arrangements with your Rider. Jake goes into my leg at the first hint of the scree, and when I say he’s gone, I mean he’s gone. That’s not the problem I thought you’d bring up.”

  “What is?”

  “Lifespan. You know that a Rider gives you a few hundred more years. How does your family deal with that?”

  “I can’t even go there, Mike. There’s no solution.”

  “There’s a partial solution. Your Rider could fission and give your wife a whole new life.”

  “And my kids?”

  Mike squirmed. “Maybe. I don’t know. I said it was a partial solution. The link has to be broken somewhere, sometime.”

  “You’re asking me to bury my kids, or my kids to bury their kids. No parent wants to do that.”

  “I know, but I want your children to live long enough to have a full life. They won’t if the Empire falls.” He looked hard at Josh. “Listen, you’re going to be with Ellie on Triton one way or another. Without the best possible plan, none of this will be an issue. You’ll be dead. Your kids will be the ones burying you, Rider or no Rider.”

  “This is crap.”

  “It is. Riders come with a price. It might even be a curse. I’m asking you to suck it up and get the job done.”

  “I don’t see myself returning to Earth if I do this thing,” Josh threw back at him. “And I will return to Earth. I have a wife there who I love more than life itself.”

  “You’re wrong. There’s nothing stopping you from going back to Earth except your thick-headedness. I’ve been back a couple of times. And think about this: Earth is coming into the Empire, sooner rather than later. It’s a promise Ellie made, and she always keeps her promises. Our people need help. When you retire from soldiering, you could become one of those helpers. You’re a leader, and a Rider will make you a better leader. Or you’ll have any number of opportunities here within the Empire if, instead, you choose to stay out here. Look at Otis. He has a Rider, he’s given up his position as the Queen’s personal Protector, but he’s still involved with her Protection, just on more levels now.”

  In the end, Josh had no choice. Mike delayed their departure for Triton for a full week to give him time to get adjusted, and Josh used the full week, but by the time they left he appeared to be back to be his usual self.

  Mike and his team boarded another of Serge’s freighters for the trip to Triton. During the voyage they discussed plans, but they simply did not have enough information to decide anything definite. Instead, they spent most of their time studying. They focused on the physical details of the palace complex, which included the Palace, the Imperial Senate Chambers, and a small city housing living, administrative, and military offices. Val groaned at Mike’s suggestion that they try to join another cleaning crew in order to have freedom of movement in the Senate Chambers. All their Riders rebelled as well.

  Artmis, Val’s Rider, had little knowledge of Triton, and Val himself had never been to Triton. The Riders with Mike, Reba, and Josh had Jake’s memories. Jake’s birth father had spent most of his working life at the Palace, hence he and his offspring carried detailed knowledge of the physical layout, and they had contacts there, many contacts. Their first order of business would be to seek out certain individuals and determine if they had survived the coup and its aftermath. If any had, loyalties would have to be determined before anything else took place. They could plan no further until they arrived.

  * * * * *

  Mike was conflicted. On one hand, Triton presented an insurmountable task, and it was enemy headquarters. There was little to like about the place.

  On the other hand, Triton was Ellie’s home world, and it was the world Mike would someday have to learn to call home if, as they hoped, it became the seat of Empire government once again. He wanted to like Triton. In fact, he wanted to fall in love with it. As King, Triton was, theoretically, his home already, and because of his Rider he would be spending a few hundred years here when the Empire prevailed.

  He had better fall in love with the place.

  When Serge’s trader dropped from hyperspace, the ship was too far out in the system to distinguish details, but as they neared Triton, Mike spent long hours studying the planet through the net. As details sharpened, he wondered if he had finally come to a planet that matched the image his imagination had carried of an alien world.

  At first blush Triton resembled Earth: bright white clouds covered great swaths of the planet, and deep blue oceans abounded. But closer inspection revealed major differences from Earth. Three moons circled the planet. The closest moon resembled Luna, Earth’s moon, but the other two, much larger, reportedly colored the night skies with amber. Weather modification had been a simple fact of life for many generations, so deserts, and for the most part polar ice caps, no longer existed. Small seasonal temperature fluctuations persisted, but most of the planet was suitable for cultivation year around. Croplands covered a measurable percentage of the planet. Mountain ranges and deep, natural valleys still existed, but outside of them every square inch of the planet seemed to have a purpose. Seashores, river banks, parklands, even wild areas displayed the imprint of ultra-civilization. Little remained of the natural on this planet.

  Cities encompassed their own lakes, rivers, parks, spaceports, and buildings, but unlike the largest cities on Earth, cities on Triton sprawled upward, not outward, taking up a fraction of the space. Enormous buildings called gzeikolts held planned communities of thousands. Narrow at the bottom, blossoming out at the top like an upside down pear, these irregularly shaped buildings stood out clearly even from space. For many cities one gzeikolt sufficed, but in the largest cities, gossamer thin pathways connected multiple gzeikolts at various levels. Mike’s Rider, Jake, informed him that these highways in the sky had been designed for vehicular and foot traffic.

  Mike zoomed in on one gzeikolt, and to his amazement it looked like it had been painted in graffiti.

  >Definitely not, Mike. Paint would deteriorate. We can’t have that. The ability to vary color is built into the materials covering the buildings. The people who call gzeikolts their homes take ownership in how they appear and how they function. Exterior colors are modified periodically, sometimes every few months, sometimes every year or two. So, too, are interior colors. Each gzeikolt has a name with which permanent residents identify themselves. The vast majority of residents never leave their gzeikolt, living and dying generation after generation within its walls.<

  >You’re joking.<

  >Nope. I know it’s not your style, but everything they need can be found within their building: apartments, offices, shopping centers, entertainment, sports, schools and churches, you name it.<

  >What about blue sky and fresh air?<

  >Not everyone needs to feel dirt running between their fingers, Mike,< Jake said with a chuckle.

  Mike thought of them as suburbs in the sky. The architect in him wanted to study them, learn from them, but that was for another day.

  The palace complex would have been visible even without the benefit of the net, but when Jake brought it into close focus, it stood out from everything around it. A small range of hills had been leveled to create a plateau some two miles long and half a mile wide. Almost 2,500 feet above the surrounding terrain, a twenty-mile-wide forest surrounded the base of the plateau as part of its security zone. The top of the plateau was laid out in four approximately equal sections.

  The Palace occupied the eastern end, its tall, green spires sparkling like crystal in the bright sun. Mike imagined it coming straight from a fairy tale. Except for a small spaceport behind the Palace, manicured lawns and gardens surrounded the estate right up to the elegant but functional wall separating it from the rest of the plateau. One set of main gates and two sets of small, p
ersonal gates cut through the wall.

  From the main gate, a broad, curving boulevard led through a parkland of grass, ponds, benches, and a few scattered trees. The boulevard ended at the main entrance to the Imperial Senate, a wide, all-white dome only a handful of stories high. Situated off-center near the north side of the plateau, the Senate Chamber’s main entrance looked out on half a mile of parkland that ran to the far edge of the plateau. From the back sides of the Chamber two long arms of office buildings extended toward the north edge of the plateau, the area between them reserved for private shuttles.

  The main boulevard continued on, curving away from the Senate Chamber to a massive wall of archways and offices that divided the plateau in half. The wall reminded Mike of an old Roman aqueduct: numerous small arches beneath several stories of offices that provided workspace for senators, their staffs, and senior Empire administrators.

  The boulevard passed through the wall beneath two large arches and opened out into the third section of plateau, Palace City. Two gzeikolts, the largest structures on the plateau, towered over everything else, even the Palace. When restored to their previous functionality, the gzeikolts would provide housing for senators, their staffs, and a large number of government administrators. Though dominated by the gzeikolts, most of the acreage of this section was devoted to parks and a civilian port.

  Security and military offices occupied the west end of the plateau. Fleet Headquarters occupied a single tall spire with two arms reaching out toward the Palace. Each arm ended in multilevel office buildings resembling five-fingered hands.

  >What you see is only part of the palace complex,< Jake said. >There is probably as much underground as above ground. In fact, nearly all service workers and supplies move around underground. People movers run continuously between all parts of the complex.<

  Mike stared in wonder and some trepidation. After all, he had to find a way in. >How long has it been here?<

  >Thousands of years, and no expense has been spared.<

  Triton dealt in imperial politics and administration, pure and simple. The planet was an administrator’s worst dream come true or sheer Nirvana depending on one’s approach to the issue. For the four warriors, it meant anonymity and easy access to the planet, though not to the palace complex. Empire administrators had learned long ago that it was simply impossible to keep track of the billion or so people on the planet and the steady flow of goods and supplies needed by them, few of which were made on Triton. They chose, instead, to control access only to the palace complex and a few other important installations. The general populace was otherwise free to move about unimpeded.

  When Serge’s ship touched down, it was just one among many hundreds of traders, and this was just one of many spaceports on Triton. Serge’s men set about unloading the ship while Mike, Reba, Val, and Josh cleared a cursory customs inspection and exited the terminal building.

  The view from space had painted the planet with a wide brush, highlighting beauty and order while concealing details. On closer inspection, the planet was not so unlike others Mike had visited. The spaceport’s immediate surroundings were heavily built up, the area clearly existing to serve ships and crews. Warehouses occupied the largest percentage of real estate by far. At this particular port, repair shops, stores, restaurants, hotels, and houses of ill repute lined both sides of several streets immediately outside the terminal building. Their reach extended two miles toward the city.

  Val led as they made their way on foot from the port. Mike opened his senses to absorb everything he could of his new home. The wide street chosen by Val was not lined by sidewalks. There were no parked vehicles, so Mike decided the street itself was a sidewalk. Flitters stopped before shops but delayed only long enough for their occupants to disembark, then they lifted back into the air and whooshed away.

  Crowded was the first word that came to Mike’s mind. Most people seemed human or close to human, but aliens of many descriptions walked or slithered or flew through the crowds. A group of three creatures cut a broad swath, and Val didn’t have to tell Mike, Josh, and Reba to keep clear. Some ten feet tall, thin and gangly, their features looked to Mike like they had been stretched out in one of those curved fun-house mirrors. Floppy ears and a tiny round mouth would have made him chuckle had their lips and sagging cheeks not looked like they’d just enjoyed a meal of fresh blood. A creature resembling a saguaro cactus herded two nasty looking, weasel-like creatures on chains through the crowd, and he had no problem getting people to clear a path either. A snake-like creature slithered along the street, the front portion of its body raised vertically to resemble a cobra about to strike. A Schect, its ten feet churning like mad, moved to the far side of the street before passing this creature. Its upper hands were not preening: its only immediate focus appeared to be getting past the reptile.

  Mike wondered just how civilized the Empire was. He had not been to enough worlds to really know, but between the multitude of weapons always in evidence and the behavior of certain creatures, he had to wonder. He shook his head. He would probably have a better feel for all this someday, but that day seemed impossibly far off at the moment.

  Colors and sounds blended into a low roar, making Mike felt like he was in a modernized Egyptian bazaar. He and his crew were dressed like most other merchant deckhands: faded brown coveralls with blasters belted to their waists, looking almost like the cowboys of old. Locals and merchants, on the other hand, sported lively and colorful attire. Gowns adorned many, though capes fluttered from the shoulders of the more wealthy appearing individuals. Jewelry, sometime subtle and sometimes garish, seemed the norm.

  Smells of every sort imaginable assaulted Mike’s nose. Val told them that food fit for any alien digestive tract could be purchased here, and most restaurants advertised their wares by funneling the smells onto the street. Vendors beckoned, most speaking urgently, though here and there others reached out only with subtle motions. Val led them past a group of young, beautiful women dressed in white gowns, informing them that the women were likely priestesses. To Mike, they acted just like young women on Earth chatting happily as they perused the fabrics in a shop window.

  Raw energy filled the air, and Mike sensed it tapping into the power of this world. He knew its source: there was money to be made here, lots of money. Visitors and locals alike appeared to be focused on that power, moving quickly and with purpose wherever they were going.

  Then, as if a cloud had passed over, colors dulled and sounds became muffled. A feeling of disquiet grew within him. For Ellie’s sake, he tried to shake it off. She needed him to like this world, to love this world, but what he had seen so far did not suit him. He had yet to see a single growing plant. He had not even seen dirt, only cement. Unlike Parson’s World, Shipyard, Centauri III where they had rescued Chandrajuski, Aldebaran I where he had met Veswicki and Seeton, and Brodor where he had trained as a Protector, worlds where he had felt some normalcy, here he felt cut off from the roots of his ancestors. Gone were the sensations of harmony he so craved, the harmony of earth, air, water, sun, and spirit. He felt a cloying sense of unbalance, of doom.

  Suddenly, the masses no longer excited. He felt hemmed in, not so much from his surroundings but by the hectic and frantic pursuit of material things. Here, money ruled, profit ruled. Out of all the people in his view, Mike suspected that he was the only one without a single credit in his pocket.

  He wondered if Ellie really knew this world, her home world, and by extension her people. She had certainly never lived among them. Had she ever walked these streets? Did she know what life was like for the common people living within her Empire, or even those living on her own home world? She spoke earnestly of hardship, of the sacrifices demanded of the Chosen, and Mike agreed with her. But on the other hand, had it ever mattered to her that she did not need to have a single credit in her pocket?

  He thought back to the teeming billions on Earth. Were their lives so different from what he saw here? Did most live with opport
unity, with aspirations, or did they simply struggle to exist?

  Here, mixed in with the underlying urgency to make the deal, to get rich, he strongly sensed a struggle to simply exist. Then he wondered: was the focus of the energy to get rich, or was it to escape from this place?

  He didn’t know.

  Each of them carried a rucksack with all the belongings they needed. They walked for several miles, Reba bouncing with excitement on Val’s arm and Josh looking for trouble behind each and every face they encountered. They finally reached the travelers rest recommended by Serge’s traders and booked rooms which turned out to be spacious, clean, and very adequate for their needs.

  The next morning Val joined a queue of traders waiting to use public computer terminals in a room off the main lobby. Josh, ever conscious of security, insisted they make no more than three queries from any one location. Any more than that might trigger a program somewhere and raise an alarm. Val eventually made it to the front of the line, made his queries, came up dry, and they checked out of the hotel. Using public transportation, they traveled to various parts of the city making more queries at public terminals, then they left the city. They took a suborbital flight to another city and checked into a hotel before discussing their findings.

  Nearly all of the individuals on their list were either dead or unavailable for a variety of reasons, some not even on the planet any longer. They had two solid hits far down on the list. The first had been a personal attendant to the Royal Family and was now managing a very expensive hotel near the palace complex. The other was an engineer, his position listed simply as building superintendent.