Across the Great Rift

by Washburn, Scott;

  “This assembly has declared a truce and granted immunity to my clan to attend,” he said loudly. “I claim that immunity for myself and my wife, who is legally married to me under our laws.”

  “That’s absurd!” snarled the woman. “She’s not one of you! She’s a mass murderer and we demand she be turned over to us!”

  “Will the clans break their own laws at the word of these strangers?” demanded Brannon. The clan representatives went into a huddle, but it broke up almost immediately. One of them, she thought it was one of the Seyotahs, although she still had trouble telling the different clans apart, went over to the Anderans.

  “I am sorry, but under the truce, neither of these persons can be touched,” he said. “Your grievance can be heard at another time, but not now.”

  The woman tried to sputter out a protest, but the other Anderans, Crawford, a woman Carlina was sure she had seen before somewhere, and a man who also looked familiar, grabbed her and silenced her. After a moment, the Seyotah turned back to Brannon. In spite of his backing up the immunity claim, he did not look the least bit friendly. Not surprising, she supposed, considering recent events. “Very well, Brannon Gillard, you have asked to speak before the assembled clans. You are here. Speak.”

  Brannon’s expression became a bit less confident, but he had rehearsed what he planned to say the whole voyage here. He took a deep breath and began. “My brothers and sisters, Children of the Lifegiver, I ask you: why are we here? I do not mean here at this conference, but rather here in the Refuge star system? We all know that our ancestors’ ancestors, going back a hundred generations were born of Old Earth in the Orion Arm, five thousand light years from this spot. How did we come to be here, so far from our ancient home?” Looks of confusion met him. “Come, my friends, has it been so long since you attended church? Surely you told the story yourselves to your children. It is a story we all know, but seldom think about. Once we had whole worlds of our own. Worlds given to us by the Lifegiver which we were to nurture and help grow and make homes for our great-grandchildren. Worlds suited to our needs, worlds we could walk upon and whose air we could breathe.

  “And yet now we are here. In a system where we and our children live their lives in metal cans or stony prisons. Even the one clan with a planet to live upon is shut up inside metal domes. We have lived in these conditions so long they seem normal, but they are not! This is not what the Lifegiver intended for us, so why are we here?” Brannon paused and drew himself up. Suddenly he pointed at the Anderans. “We are here because of them! Because of what their ancestors did! We are the Children of the Lifegiver, they are the children of the World Stealers!”

  There was a moment of shocked silence, followed by an uproar among the delegates. All of them began talking and shouting. Some talked to each other, but many shouted things at Brannon. He stood there rigidly and let the shouts patter off him like rain. In spite of her growing familiarity with the local dialect, Carlina could follow very little of this, but she suspected that Brannon’s accusations had the same force as calling one of her own people a cannibal or a child molester or a… a murderer. She flinched as that comparison materialized in her head. Eventually, quiet was restored and Brannon was permitted to continue.

  “Yes, I was there aboard their vessel and heard their explanations. They claim to have had nothing to do with the World Stealers. The World Stealers were all destroyed long ago and they should not be condemned because of the actions of distant ancestors. Well, their actions speak louder than their words! They had only been here a few weeks before they slaughtered two dozen of my clan’s warriors. Yes, they did not know our ways, but they have clearly shown us theirs—to kill!

  “And killing begets killing. The loss of his sons and so many of his people drove the leader of my clan mad with hatred. I will not try to excuse his actions, in fact I come to beg forgiveness for what he attempted to do. But I ask you: has anything like this ever happened here before? No, of course not. And yet it has happened now. Why? The only answer is the Newcomers! ‘Thou shalt know them by their violence’, says the Book of Life and surely we know them! They bring their ways of violence and death to us from across the Rift. Already it threatens to corrupt us. And just a few minutes ago I learned that they have now asked you for help in their wars. Can you not see what is happening?

  “My wife was once one of them and she can tell you of the society they come from: war and more war across the centuries. This ‘Protectorate of Andera’ the Newcomers claim to be part of was built on conquest. Hundreds of worlds which were once independent have been ruthlessly incorporated into an empire ruled by an iron dictator. In the last generation they completed the conquest of a cluster of stars on the edge of the Rift—and they’ve now used it as a springboard to cross the Rift and bring their empire and their violence here. To our home.”

  Carlina held back a smile when she saw the effect Brannon’s words were having on the clan delegates. At first they had been totally against him, but now some were starting to consider just what they were being told. And if asked, she would be happy to confirm his claims about Andera. Of course, Andera was certainly not unique. In the long, painful process of hauling themselves up from the wreckage of the United Worlds, all of the present star-nations had followed a similar course. Venance’s history was just as bloody, just as full of conquest as Andera’s. No need to tell them that, of course…

  “So they are here,” continued Brannon. “They bring their wars and their violent ways to our doorstep. And they build their gate to link our system with one of theirs. What will happen when it is done? They beguile you with promises of trade and the dazzling prospect of visiting their side of the Rift. Don’t believe them! Once they have what they need from you, once the gate is operational, their fleets and their merchants and their colonists will swarm through and overwhelm you. You gape in awe at the mighty starships they have come in, but these are only one small squadron of the armadas at their command. Once they are secure, their promises and treaties will matter no more than the promises made to our distant ancestors—before their worlds were stolen!”

  “Then what would you have us do?” demanded one of the men. “The Newcomers tell us that their enemy, these Venanci, are fast approaching. They come here to hijack the gate they are building, aided by the woman and mass murderer you now call wife. Are you telling us to trust them, instead? It seems to me that the Newcomers came here to carry out a mighty endeavor by their own sweat and labor. These Venanci seek to steal the fruits of that labor for their own. You call the Newcomers evil, but surely they are the lesser evil of the two!”

  Carlina gritted her teeth and cursed the man, whoever he was, for seeing through to the weakness of Brannon’s argument so quickly—and exposing it so bluntly. For that was the crux of the matter: the Anderans came here for an honest purpose with no knowledge of the locals’ existence, while the Venanci were coming with pre-planned murder and theft. Damn. But they had discussed this, too, on the way here. She watched as Brannon marshaled his counter-thrust.

  “What should we do? We should defend our home! We should have no dealings with either evil, lesser or greater. Stop the trade with the Anderans, deny them the materials they need to build their accursed gate. Give them no aid. Let them fight their enemies when they come, and if they destroy each other, then give praise to the Lifegiver for our deliverance. And if one should triumph, then let us let the victor know that they are our enemies. Fight them! Harry them! Destroy the gate! If we are true, they will see the hopelessness of their situation and they will go back the way they came and leave us in peace.”

  An uneasy silence followed as the people pondered Brannon’s words. But would they listen? Did Carlina even want them to listen? She wasn’t quite sure anymore. Clearly it was vital to prevent the clans from actively aiding the Anderans against the relief squadron. The mere fact that they had asked for aid showed how desperate they were. Carlina wasn’t sure if the clans’ aid would really help that much, but s
he could not take that chance. At the very least, the slaughter of their warriors by the Venanci would make any future cooperation unlikely. So she had to keep them out of the coming fight. But assuming that was done and assuming the Venanci won the coming battle, what then? At that point, Brannon’s plan for non-cooperation and guerrilla war would be catastrophic. But first things first: keep the clans neutral. Later, when things had calmed down, new plans could be made.

  Or at least that’s what one part of her wanted. Another part, a part which seemed to be growing stronger daily, wanted all of Brannon’s plan to succeed. Drive out the Anderans and the Venanci alike. Leave these people alone. What was wrong with her?

  The silence gave way to low murmurs and then louder talking. She saw the Anderans in animated discussion with several of the locals. The sound quickly grew to a dull roar punctuated by sharper outbursts. Finally, the Seyotahs shouted for order and eventually got it.

  “You have given us a great deal to think about, Brannon Gillard of the Clorindans,” said the man who had addressed him earlier. “I suggest that a recess is in order so that we may all weigh your words carefully.” There were several dissenting voices, but the majority approved and the meeting slowly broke up. Carlina went to stand next to Brannon and took his hand.

  “You did very well, my husband.”

  * * * * *

  “Well, this is a fine kettle of swamp eels,” snorted Charles Crawford. “Citrone somehow is still making trouble for us. I wish I’d let Greg slam her clear through that bulkhead!”

  “It’s not that bad,” insisted Regina. “The clans haven’t made up their minds yet.”

  “Bad enough,” grumbled Frichette. “The only ones I think we can really count on are the Seyotahs and they hardly have any attack ships left. And if they all keep wasting time, it won’t make any difference. We need to get their ships in position and make some plans.”

  “You can’t expect them to make a decision this important instantly,” said Regina.

  “Well, they must make it soon!” said Beatrice Innes, walking up to join them outside the conference chamber. “They’ve had three days to make up their minds and we must push them to decide today.”

  “Or else what?” said Regina. “Like it or not, we’re the supplicants here. We’ve got absolutely nothing to bargain with—and any threats would be totally counterproductive.” She fixed her stare on Innes to make her point clear.

  “Commodore Frichette has his warship only a few kilometers away,” said Innes, ignoring Regina’s implications.

  “Don’t even think about it, Beatrice,” said Frichette sternly. “We cannot afford to start another war! We have more than enough already.”

  “Amen to that,” growled Crawford.

  “Well, here come the other delegates,” said Regina, pointing. “We may as well get in there and see what we can do.” They slowly merged with the locals and moved through the door. Regina greeted them all courteously and Crawford did his best to be friendly. The responses varied greatly, some smiled, others frowned, many just pretended not to hear. Inside they found their spot, a pile of cushions next to a low table with a bottle of water sitting on it. Crawford decided he liked this arrangement far better than a traditional conference room. He could shift and stretch and even doze off without appearing rude. Regina nudged him when Citrone and Gillard entered. They now had their own spot in the conference.

  “I can’t believe he actually agreed to marry her.”

  “It was just a political move, apparently, but it does make you wonder,” said Regina quietly. “Look how close they stay to each other.”

  “Close is nice,” said Crawford, reaching a hand around her waist. She put her hand on his. He glanced to the side and saw Innes’s expression of annoyance. It was clear that Shiffeld’s assistant strongly disapproved of their relationship, but Crawford truly didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he was actually having fun, actually happy. Regina had ruthlessly smashed through or slipped around all of his habit-hardened defenses and forced him to be happy. He wasn’t sure if he was in love with her, he guiltily thought of the strong affection he still had for Sheila, but Sheila had always respected his defenses and he now realized that wasn’t what he really needed. And yes, he fully admitted that it was insane to be starting something like this under the circumstances, but perhaps he needed more insanity in his life. Whatever, he was going to seize the moment and the rest of the universe could go scratch.

  He sat there watching the proceedings, and despite Regina’s presence, he grew uneasy. Gillard’s argument seemed to be gaining converts among the clans, especially from those who had not done so well with the trade agreements. Few seemed willing to agree to active hostilities against the Anderans or the Venanci, as Gillard wanted, but even fewer wanted to join the battle on the Anderans’ side. Beatrice and Petre made impassioned arguments, but they seemed to make little impression. This was not good.

  “Is there anything we can say?” he whispered to Regina.

  “I can’t think of a thing that hasn’t already been said. We’re asking them to take a big risk with only our promises of good intentions. In their place, I’m not sure I would believe us either.”

  Time wore on and things got worse. Beatrice made the mistake of pointing out that with the Seyotahs promising to help, the Venanci would automatically assume any of the locals were hostile, so that their hopes to stay neutral would founder. But instead of bringing the others around, it only made them apply pressure on the Seyotahs to remain neutral, too.

  “Shall one clan put all of us in peril?” demanded Gillard. “We must put our greed aside and act in unity or we shall all suffer!”

  “Hell, we’re losing this,” growled Crawford. Innes glared and Petre looked increasingly worried. The Seyotah leaders appeared on the verge of crumbling. “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know, I…”

  The doors to the conference chamber slid open and every head turned to look at this interruption. Regina gasped and Crawford twitched in surprise when he saw Tad Farsvar standing at the head of a crowd of people. He, and most of the rest were carrying babies in their arms.

  “What is the meaning of this?” exclaimed the chief moderator.

  “We demand to be heard!” shouted Tad. Without waiting for permission, he marched forward, followed by the others. Crawford noted with interest that the Seyotah warriors standing guard outside made no move to stop them. Nearly a hundred people crowded into the chamber, dozens of babies, too, some crying, but most quiet. All the delegates were on their feet, most visibly angry at this breach of protocol.

  “We have learned that the Newcomers have asked the clans to aid them,” said Tad, his voice rising above the babble around him. “We have also heard that the opinions of most of the leaders is against granting them aid. Cowards! The Newcomers aided us when we called on them. They saved these babies from death!” He held up the child and the others did as well. Crawford thought that the baby Tad held was his cousin’s, but he wasn’t sure.

  “The Archpriest Gillard has said that the Newcomers’ actions speak louder than words. In this one thing he was right! When their friends were in need, when innocent lives were at risk, they acted! They saved our babies!” A shout went up from the intruders and now quite a few more babies were crying.

  “We are in their debt and we will not forget that,” cried Tad when the noise subsided a bit. “There are members of every Seyotah sept here and we come to pledge our aid to the Newcomers. No matter what you may decide here, when the enemy arrives there will be clan ships at the sides of our friends!” Another roar from Tad’s group and cries of alarm from the delegates. The moderator gesticulated for order, his voice lost in the uproar. A number of the warriors had crowded into the room, but they were chanting with Tad’s people rather than trying to stop them. More people had gathered outside the chamber, Crawford could see them thronged by the entrance.

 
The noise went on for a long time and there was a great deal of wild gesticulating among the delegates. The Seyotah delegates clustered around Tad, but the boy looked as unmoving as the stone of the asteroid. After a while, Vanit Gorin, the Seyotah clan chief, and his head warrior forced their way through to Tad and there was more talk. Finally, after nearly half an hour, the noise subsided, probably more from exhaustion than any other factor. Gorin demanded the floor and got it.

  “The Seyotah will aid the Newcomers,” he stated and this brought another cheer. “Honor demands it and we shall pay our debts to them. You others might owe no debt, but I ask you to join us. War is coming here as we have all heard. There is no stopping it or hiding from it. War is coming and I will face it at the side of proven friends!” More cries drowned out anything else Gorin might have said, but he had clearly said enough. After a long time, order was restored and most of the intruders ushered out, although Tad and a few others were allowed to stay.

  The debate resumed, but the character had changed. Two other clans, stung perhaps by Tad’s charge of cowardice, pledged their aid. Then another. After long communications delays while leaders were consulted, three more joined the coalition. Gillard argued and blustered, but he was visibly losing ground. Finally, after the meeting had gone on for nearly nine hours, agreements were finalized. Eight clans would provide warriors and the rest would remain strictly neutral. The Clorindans, despite Gillard’s pleas, also agreed to remain neutral. The fact that they had virtually no warriors remaining left them little choice.

  “Secrecy is vital to our success,” said Petre Frichette, addressing the assembly. “If any word of our plans were leak to the Venanci, it will lead to disaster. All here must do their utmost to prevent any communications with the invader when they come.” The assembly agreed to this at once.

  “Surely there are two who cannot be trusted!” cried Beatrice Innes. She pointed to Gillard and Citrone. “They must be kept under confinement until this is all over!”