Chaos Quarter: Imperial Ambitions

by David Welch

  “You went along with it easily enough,” said Rex.

  “On the off chance that you were telling the truth, I didn’t want to destroy a potentially beneficial relationship,” she explained. “Not when it could mean getting Calidus to spill everything.”

  “Ever the politician, aren’t you?” said Rex with a huff.

  “You disapprove?” she asked.

  “Yeah, but don’t be offended. Most Terrans hate their elected representatives,” he said.

  “Really? The great democracy of the stars—”

  “Republic,” stressed Rex. “Not a democracy.”

  “There’s a difference?” asked Cindy.

  “Huge difference,” Rex replied. “Democracies always fail. Republics do too, but they last a lot longer before the end comes.”

  “How optimistic,” Cindy snarked.

  “Realistic,” said Rex. “The Free Terran Commonwealth has lasted almost four hundred years now, and it’s still doing pretty well. Hopefully we’ll get another four hundred out of it.”

  “Not if you hate and distrust your own politicians,” challenged Cindy.

  “Hating and distrusting our politicians is why we might make it another four centuries,” Rex asserted. “Politicians like power; power in large doses corrupts; it’s an inevitability. The more we distrust them, the less power we entrust in their hands, the less corrupted they get, the longer we remain free.”

  Cindy was quiet for a moment, clearly mulling that over.

  “Your nation sounds…bristly? Prickly?” she said.

  “We’ve been called worse,” said Rex. “But so far it has worked better than anything anybody else has come up with.”

  “So you work for a government composed of politicians you dislike to uphold a cause that those same politicians would destroy if not for the very distrust of the people they represent?” theorized Cindy. “Sounds like a mass of contradictions.”

  “It is that. Makes no sense when you look at it, but you can’t argue with the results. People hating and distrusting the very people they chose to serve them brings prosperity and freedom to all…under the proper constitutional framework, of course,” said Rex, taking a moment to tear into one of his sandwiches.

  “Well, whatever the case, you do realize that you’re sharing a breakfast table with a politician, yes?” Cindy said.

  Rex shrugged, saying, “Councilwoman of a small town means small power, probably not enough to chew up your soul. But should you ever get yourself elected to something bigger, rest assured that I will develop a strong dislike of you.”

  “Riiiiight,” Cindy replied. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that. The Angleseyu don’t elect their leaders, and they don’t let us off the Reservation, so this is about as far as I’m gonna get.”

  “Fortunate for you,” Rex said with a smirk.

  Cindy chuckled and finished her cereal. She got to her feet just as Rex was starting in on his second sandwich.

  “Most mornings I go for a walk out in the countryside,” she said. “Helps me collect my thoughts before the day begins.”

  Rex stopped chewing. “And since you swore to be by my side until Calidus is released…”

  “It would make things much easier if you came along,” she said. “You said you wanted to learn from us, so I figure it’s time you actually see what we’ve established here.”

  Rex swallowed, a smile coming to his face. Walk alone in the beautiful countryside with a pretty woman…well, if they’re gonna twist my arm about it!

  “Sounds great,” he said, getting to his feet. “Just one thing though. You do know most people eat cereal with milk, right?”

  Cindy looked at him, puzzled.

  “What’s cereal?” she asked.

  “That stuff you were just—you know what, never mind,” he declared. “Let’s just get out of here before something else happens.”

  ***

  Outside of Valley Town

  Rex felt about ten pounds lighter out in the open air. It was a relief to see the sky overhead—great, glorious, and intensely blue. No steel, no ceilings, no track lighting strips—an actual sun above. It seemed a little brighter than Paphlygonia’s, but he couldn’t say for sure. His homeworld was so cloudy so often that you never really could get a feel for its star. Anglesey did not have that problem.

  He drew some cool air into his lungs and then continued following Cindy up the path. They were just west of the city, ascending a small hillock that rose above the town. It was a gentle protrusion of the craggy, four-thousand-foot-high ridgeline that formed the west wall of the valley. Atop the hillock was a rock massif, protruding from the grassy slope. It was half-covered in graffiti, but still an impressive sight.

  A stir of motion to his left caught his eye. He spun, his hand instinctively going for his pistol. But he soon relaxed. No enemy awaited. Instead, near the tree line one hundred yards up the slope, bounced a quintet of strange creatures. He paused to stare. At first they looked like kangaroos, with upright bodies, long tails, grasping hands, and long, hopping legs. But they had the heads, ears, and antlers of deer. And their coats were tawny, not all that different from the bush-antlered deer he’d shot before they left. The long, kangaroo tails were covered with bright, white hair. They were one of the strangest creatures he’d ever seen.

  “Jumping Deer,” said Cindy, seeing his gaze.

  “They’re definitely…unique,” said Rex.

  “Rumor is when the Angleseyu got here they didn’t have many species’ DNA to work with. So they started combining things,” said Cindy.

  “Do they have pouches?” asked Rex.

  “No. Placentals,” said Cindy.

  “Weird,” Rex said, smiling a bit as he watched the strange beasts disappear into the forest.

  “Oh yeah? See that bird up there, in the tall tree?” Cindy said, pointing to a pine tree above the massif. Rex focused with his artificial eye, and magnified in. In the top branches was a large raptor.

  “Some kind of bird of prey,” said Rex.

  “Nope. Day bat,” Cindy informed.

  As if on cue the animal spread its wings. They were feathered and birdlike at first glance, but the way they extended out from the animal’s body was unmistakably bat-like. Rex magnified a little closer on the animals head, seeing not a beak but a long, hairy snout.

  “Well, that’s unnerving,” he said. Bats with feathers…as if the normal kind weren’t creepy enough.

  “You should see the cat-bears,” said Cindy as they approached the massif.

  “Cat-bear? Somebody blended cats with bears?” asked Rex.

  “No, they just made a house cat the size of a bear,” Cindy explained as they started up the stone. “They’re the big predators around here.”

  “Guess that’s too bad; I was always more of a dog person,” Rex said.

  “We have wolves,” Cindy added.

  “Let me guess, crossed with spiders so they have eight legs and hunt with giant webs?” Rex said.

  “No, just plain wolves. They’re gray, howl a lot, and run long distances,” said replied.

  “Oh,” said Rex as they crested the massif, a bit disappointed. He would’ve paid good money to see a pack of eight-legged web-weaving wolves.

  They went quiet, the vista opening up around them. Immediately below was the village, relatively still this early in the morning. A few people were out and about, the others no doubt sleeping off yesterday’s drama.

  “I never tire of this view,” said Cindy with a smile. Rex could see why. From here Valley Town was just an idyllic mountain village, something you’d see in a picture or painting or tourist brochure. The steep-roof village, the brown grass and sparse trees of the valley, the distant pounding of the ocean against the beach…it reminded Rex a little of Paphlygonia, at least as far as the mountains and surf were concerned. His homeworld didn’t have vast, open parklands like this, at least not in latitudes that anybody had any desire to live in.

  “And you
know what would make this a little bit better?” she said with wry smile.

  “What’s that?”

  “That drink you never got to get me,” said Cindy, removing a flask from the light jacket she wore.

  “Where did you get that?” asked Rex.

  “Your cyborg found it, topped it off for me,” she said, taking a swig. She passed it to him.

  “Of course he did,” Rex said, taking a drink himself. It was some sort of vodka. He would’ve gone with rye or scotch himself, but he supposed with Jake it didn’t matter. The man could turn off the taste center of his brains, if he so desired—so one spirit was as good as another. Swallowing it down, he handed the flask back to Cindy.

  “I suppose it’s fitting we’re drinking here,” she said, taking another swig. “All the local teenagers use this as a hangout spot.”

  “That would explain the graffiti,” Rex replied.

  “Yep,” she said. “Can’t be mad at them though. A lot of them were born here, in freedom—never knew anything else. And they have an optimism about life, you know? Something refreshing, something I never got to feel.”

  “I can imagine. I was a bit wild at that age too,” Rex remarked.

  “Of course the downside is that more than a few unplanned babies were conceived where we’re standing,” Cindy said with a shake of the head.

  Rex took the flask from her and had another swig.

  “You trying to hint at something?” Rex asked.

  She gave him another wry smile and took the flask back. She tucked it safely back into her coat. “Since I know what’s on your mind…”

  “Hey, you were the one who brought me to the hookup spot and tried to get me drunk,” Rex countered.

  They locked eyes and tried to stare each other down for a long moment, and then Cindy broke out laughing.

  “Oh…” she said between gasps. “To feel young again.”

  “Indeed,” Rex answered.

  “But it’s nothing like that. I just figured since we’re going to be questioning the Europan today it would be better not to go in intoxicated,” said Cindy. “Besides, I have no problems making friends with somebody I pointed a gun at, but taking one to bed…well, that could be pushing it.”

  “Eh, it’s just as well. I’m not much for an audience, and your village seems to be waking up,” said Rex.

  Below a dozen or so people had clustered near the center of the main street. The main road, unlike most small towns, was not in the center of the village. It was the southernmost road in the town, running east to west. Four other streets ran parallel to it, to its north. North-to-south roads intersected the five streets in a traditional grid pattern. He watched the distant figures get into a car and take off north, quickly driving out of the village. They drove toward the ocean. It was a half mile beyond the town. There the parallel ridges that formed the valley stopped abruptly, plunging to the ocean. Between them was a gritty-looking, gray sand beach. A dock extended off it, a dozen boats tied to it.

  “Fishermen,” Cindy said. “We get a good catch.”

  “Trust me, I know fish,” Rex informed. “Did it for a year before joining the military.”

  “Ah. Well, we also have the ranchers and farmers. And there’s a mine at the southern end of the valley,” said Cindy, pointing. Rex couldn’t make out the mine entrance or any tailing piles. It was far too distant. But he did see a pair of small buses heading that way, winding their way along the central valley road.

  “You seem to be prospering,” Rex commented.

  “Well enough I guess. We’re not poor,” said Cindy. “But I think if we were doing well enough to be ‘prospering,’ the Angleseyu would find some reason to close the Reservation and kick us all out.”

  “Kate told us they didn’t like living up here. Too cold or something,” said Rex.

  “Yeah. They don’t like the cold, that’s for sure. Don’t know if it’s a cultural thing or if they screwed up something back when they changed their genome to look the way they do—you know, some unexpected side effect or something. But having dealt with them for the last fifteen years, I get the distinct feeling that if they thought there was good money up here they’d knit themselves some sweaters and run us off,” Cindy said, a little bitterness creeping into her voice.

  “Quite the balancing act,” said Rex.

  “Price of living free, I guess,” said Cindy.

  “Well, if it’s really bothering you, the Commonwealth has a law on the books that says any serf who reaches Commonwealth territory or space is automatically granted asylum,” said Rex. “One of the many laws created to piss off the empire.”

  “Hmm…tempting, but…you know,” she said, gesturing at the town.

  “Your home,” Rex surmised.

  “Yeah. My people. I’ve kinda gotten used to taking care of them,” Cindy said.

  Rex nodded and took a deep breath. A cool breeze hit them, blowing Cindy’s hair back around her face. She brushed it back behind her ears and then noticed his gaze. Her face flushed, a moment of embarrassment showing, before her poise reasserted itself.

  “Well, I suppose we should get back down. Make sure nothing else has happened in our absence,” said Cindy.

  “I guess,” Rex conceded and then sighed dramatically. “All the way to the town hookup point and I get nothing…”

  Cindy rolled her eyes and then gave him a peck on the cheek.

  “All right,” said Rex. “But I’m calling that first base.”

  Cindy cocked her head. “First base?”

  “Come on. I’ll explain on the way.”

  ***

  Valley Town

  Second approached the house, unsure of why her stomach was so tight. She knew this corresponded to nervousness but was not sure why she should feel nervous. She was not walking into danger, and could logically come up with no great threat to herself. But it was present all the same. She found it very uncomfortable.

  She approached a plain wooden door, and knocked. Inside she heard footsteps and then the door pulled back, revealing Kate. The young woman’s eyes quickly registered who she was looking at, and she scowled.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Kate coolly.

  “I desire to speak with Helen,” Second replied, oblivious.

  “What makes you think she’d have anything to say to you? Or any of you people? You brought her tormentor here!” Kate seethed.

  “Lucius is on the ship as agreed. He is not here,” said Second.

  Kate opened her mouth to scream, and then stopped with her jaw gaping. Second did not understand why people did this. To her it seemed a very uncomfortable position.

  “You need to leave,” Kate snapped.

  “But I need to speak with Helen. She has undergone a situation similar to my own. I require her help—”

  “I don’t care, just get—”

  “Stop!” a voice cried from inside. “What did she just say?”

  Helen appeared behind Kate, walking slowly toward the door, supporting her back with one hand. Kate grumbled but moved aside.

  “What do you mean, ‘situation similar to my own?’ Has Baliol done something to you? Has he hurt you?” Helen demanded. Her words were forceful, yet concerned.

  “No. Lucius has done nothing bad to me,” Second answered.

  “Then what is it? Why did you come here?” Helen pushed.

  “Another person did…did terrible things to me,” Second explained, finding the words hard to get out. “I…I have had trouble clearing him from my memory.”

  “‘Clearing him?’” Helen asked.

  “I have hesitated when my life is in danger. I have imagined him…imagined others doing things he did to me. But I hesitate…I don’t know what to do,” Second managed. She felt her heart race, and her breath came quickly, too quickly. “You are happy and your people are armed and strong a-and I need to know w-what it is you do? How you do it? I don’t know; I just don’t know how to…”

  She trailed off, unable
to will any more words out. Helen stared at her piercingly for a second, and then shook her head. She frowned slightly and sighed.

  “Come inside. Come in and sit down,” Helen said. Kate’s eyes went wide in shock, but she made no move to stop Second.

  Second felt herself nod in response to Helen’s words, but couldn’t focus much beyond that. She felt frantic, shattered, almost like she had during her first moment of freedom. Her mind pulled in a thousand directions, and she could make little sense of the jumble of thoughts and emotions churning through it.

  Helen led her into a small living room, and sat her down on a couch. Second wiped a tear from her eyes, unaware until then that she was crying. She still had some trouble making sense of tears. They came at such unfortunate times.

  “Now take a breath,” said Helen, moving to an easy chair opposite the couch.

  “This is ridiculous,” griped Kate. Helen shot her a dark look. Kate shook her head angrily, and then retreated to another chair in the back corner of the room. She picked up two needles from a nearby side table and began knitting from a skein of red yarn. She turned her eyes from them.

  “Tell me exactly what you mean,” said Helen, ignoring her stepdaughter.

  “I…I was a slave,” said Second. “I have been a person for less than a year. Before that I was enslaved to the ambassador.”

  “‘Been a person?’ What do you mean?” asked Kate.

  “I was grown to be a slave. My mind was bound by a control cortex created by Hegemon Masters,” Second spoke.

  “I don’t understand. Grown? What do you mean you were ‘grown’?” asked Helen.

  “I was genetically engineered in a breeder. I was not born from another human being,” Second said simply.

  Now Helen’s jaw fell open. Even Kate looked up with wide eyes, more shocked than angry.

  “Uh…umm…okay. So…” Helen began, processing the information, “…so you were genetically engineered, to be a slave.”

  “Yes, I just said that,” Second remarked.

  “Well, that’s…definitely strange. But I was bred to be a nanny, and Kate was bred to be beautiful. So I can understand it, I guess.”