Could have been worse, Michael thought. They could have started shooting. Then again, shooting at a ship of unknown capabilities that was larger than any ship in your own fleet would not generally be considered wise.
“This is the battleship Gehenna,” Captain Thorenson said. The screen filled with a military looking figure, a human male wearing a black uniform with piping on the sleeves and insignia on the shoulders. “Our destination is Jensen-4. Our planet of origin is Reliance, the capital of the Second Interstellar Empire of Mankind. Our intention is to establish diplomatic relations with the Corporate States.”
The figure in the screen visibly swallowed. “Your current speed and vector should have you arriving in twelve hours. Please orbit at a distance of fifteen-thousand kilometers. You will be contacted again.” The image flicked out.
Commander Dumas laughed. “I guess we’ve rattled them. He didn’t even give us his name.”
Rattling them had been Michael’s intention. Gehenna, if he could believe Captain Orsini, was almost twenty times the size of any ship in the Corporate States’ possession. Michael was tired of being circumspect, of wandering around without a clue. This time, he wanted answers.
What was that old line, from that old poem…? Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair.
Of course, the old poem had been a warning to avoid hubris, since the works in question were nothing but ruin and dust, vanished down the well of time. So, let’s not get too full of ourselves.
Still, so far, so good.
They entered a parking orbit fifteen thousand kilometers above the planet, which, according to their sensors, was a standard Earth type world, with four major continents, deep salty oceans and two polar ice caps. The capital city was called Viridian. It sat at the junction of two major rivers, a hundred kilometers from the Eastern Sea.
A few minutes after their arrival, the monitor blinked back on. A woman’s face looked out at them. She had short blonde hair, sharp black eyes and dark skin, and what appeared to be a databud in one ear. Her eyes flicked from Captain Thorenson, to Commander Dumas to Michael. “I’m Leena Tervo,” she said. “I’m the Chairman of the Board of the Jensen Corporation.” She grinned. “You mentioned diplomatic relations. The Jensen Corporation likes diplomatic relations, particularly with people who have five-thousand meter long ships.
“So, who are you, and what exactly can we do for you?”
Captain Thorenson introduced herself and Commander Dumas. She did not introduce Michael. Chairman of the Board Leena Tervo chose not to mention this oversight.
“It’s simple enough,” Captain Thorenson said. “We recently visited a world called Duval-3. Have you heard of it?”
Leena Tervo seemed to listen to something for a moment. “Not until now,” she said. “Available data says it’s very far from here, and we’ve had no contact. What about it?”
Captain Thorenson gave a thin, unamused smile. “The Akadius Corporation has invaded Duval-3, bombed her cities from orbit, set her forests aflame and nearly eliminated her people. They’ve constructed three large habitats in the asteroid belt.” Captain Thorenson smiled wider. “We are not happy with the Akadius Corporation. We intend to destroy them.”
Boom. The line was encrypted, the conversation totally secure. However, the unencrypted recording on Gehenna would be released to the system wide web, sometime in the next few hours. Michael smiled at the thought. It wouldn’t take long until it reached Akadius. He looked forward to their reaction.
Leena Tervo would not have risen to her current position without an ability to conceal her thoughts. Nevertheless, her eyes grew wide. “Why don’t you come down,” she said. Her eyes flicked again to Michael. “Let’s talk about it.” Then she sighed and shook her head. “So much for diplomatic relations.”
Michael had not been expecting a party but that was where he found himself. Michael, Captain Thorenson, Commander Dumas and the rest of the officers—minus those left on watch—plus Frankie and Michael’s other “guests,” wandered around the giant ballroom. The floor appeared to be marble. The room itself rose over thirty meters to a domed ceiling, from which crystal chandeliers twinkled. Camera drones floated overhead, recording the festivities. The movers and shakers of Jensen society were all here, wanting to mingle with their unexpected visitors.
Negotiations had already concluded. In the end, there had been little to negotiate.
The table had not been a large one, set in the center of a small conference room, with additional seating around the walls and a refresher and kitchen in the back. Leena Tervo sat at the head of the table. Next to her sat the very stiff military man who had first answered their query, introduced as Marshall Amare Klein. Michael, Commander Dumas, Captain Thorenson and Henrik Anson sat on either side of the table, cups of tea and plates of tiny pastries sitting in front. The room was otherwise empty.
“We know about the Second Empire,” Leena Tervo had said. “All of us are the children of Earth. As soon as we were able, and this is well over five centuries ago, we sent ships back to the ancestral home worlds. We wanted to see what remained of the Empire.” She smiled. “The First Empire.
“Also, of course, the Second Empire represents an enormous market for our products.”
“Then why don’t we know about you?” Michael asked.
“If you had ever sent ships in this direction, then you would have.” Leena Tervo shrugged. “We felt it prudent not to advertise our presence. Empires are unpredictable. The Second Empire claims to be benevolent in its intentions, but intentions often change and the policies of one government are often different from those of the next. The First Empire claimed hegemony over all mankind, wherever in the Universe they might be. Thankfully, the Second Empire is neither so arrogant nor so dogmatic. Nevertheless, you are far larger and more powerful than any of the Corporate States. We felt it wiser not to announce our presence.”
Leena Tervo sighed. “This is why our ancestors fled to Caldwell 86, so long ago. They wanted to be far away from the Empire.”
“What happened in Caldwell 86?” Captain Thorenson asked. “Why did your people leave?”
“Philosophical disagreements.”
Captain Thorenson raised an eyebrow and sipped her tea.
“Our very distant ancestors,” Leena Tervo said, “the ones who settled in Caldwell 86, believed in share-and-share alike. They pooled their resources and tried to develop a society of perfect equality. In doing so, they stifled creativity, initiative and ambition. The ancient Japanese had a saying: the nail that sticks up must be struck down.
“Some of their descendants—our direct ancestors—rebelled against this philosophy. They left Caldwell 86, and came here. The Corporate States believe the individual should have full scope to achieve his or her potential.”
Unfettered capitalism, Michael thought, had been tried many times over the course of the millennia, and communism as well. Neither, when practiced in their purest form, had ever been successful. Also, Leena Tervo’s recounting of events did not exactly jibe with that of Captain Orsini.
“What’s happened to the people in Caldwell 86?” he asked.
“They’re still there. They’ve descended into a life of genteel poverty. Their industries have degraded and they’ve lost most of their space-going capacity. They’re certainly equal, except for the ones who are more equal than the others. Poor, but equal.”
“And some of you are rich,” Captain Thorsenson said, “and others are not so rich, and still others serve the will of their masters with no choice at all. Is that not so?”
“It is true that some of us are rich, and it is also true that many others are not rich.” Leena Tervo gave Michael an arch look. “But everybody has a job, for which they are paid a reasonable wage, and if they wish, they can quit their job and look for another.”
“And what if there are no other jobs? What if they can’t quit their job, because they have a contract, and the contract won’t let them?”
Leena Tervo l
ooked miffed. “I won’t deny that Akadius, for instance, is a corporate dictatorship—some of the others, as well. The Jensen Corporation, however, prides itself on being an excellent place to live and work. We take care of our people and our people take care of us.”
That might be an exaggeration, Michael thought, but it might not. From what they had been able to glean from the web, the people of Jensen were satisfied with their lot. Certainly, they could come and go as they pleased and very few of them seemed inclined to leave.
Leena Tervo, watching this internal monologue play out on Michael’s face, added, “Don’t confuse us with your enemy.”
“It pleases us that you’re not enemies,” Henrik Anson said. “The Second Empire wishes to remain on good terms with all of our neighbors.”
“An admirable philosophy,” Marshall Klein said, a sour note in his voice. These were the first words he had contributed. “Except that you’re a little far away to be considered neighbors.”
“So,” Michael said, “you’re not our enemies. We appreciate that. Would you like to become our allies?”
The Chairman of the Board and the Marshall looked at each other. “Probably not,” Leena Tervo said. “We’re already doing business with you, though until now, you didn’t know it. There are seventy-six Corporate States, and as Marshall Klein has said, they’re a lot closer to us than the Second Empire. The risks of a formal alliance would seem to outweigh the benefits. A policy of strict neutrality would be much safer for the Jensen Corporation.” She seemed to think about it for a moment. “It might be different if you were moving into this sector of space in force. Otherwise, you would be making us a target.”
Sound reasoning, Michael thought.
Commander Dumas smiled and leaned forward. “What can you tell us about the Akadius Corporation?”
“Ah…” Leena Tervo smiled back. Evidently, she had been waiting for this question. Akadius, it seemed, was loosely allied with a consortium of twenty-seven like minded corporations. Jensen was allied with thirty others. All the rest had their own little groupings. All of them danced warily around each other and made excellent products. All of them traded with their immediate neighbors and many others much further away.
“I could say that it’s an unstable situation,” Leena Tervo said, “except it’s been stable for centuries. That might change if one of us had a significant technological advantage over another, but so far, we’ve remained fairly equal.”
“Duval is an Akadius resource that you didn’t know about,” Michael said.
“Yes.” Leena Tervo nodded. “That worries us. All of us have secret resources. That knowledge—and the fear it generates—is the only thing that’s kept the peace.”
“And now,” Marshall Klein said, “you have announced your intention to destroy Akadius.”
Both Leena Tervo and Marshall Klein were suddenly staring at Michael.
“The news has leaked out,” Leena Tervo said. “I wonder how that happened?”
“Hmm…” Michael said.
“So,” Leena Tervo said, “whether you intended to or not, you’ve put a bullseye on our back.”
Michael had weakly protested that making Jensen a target had not been their intention. The meeting had broken up soon after. “We’ll be hosting a party in your honor,” Leena Tervo had said. “It’s not every day we receive visitors from the ancestral home of mankind. Trade representatives will be present from all seventy-six corporations. They should meet you and form their own opinions. After that, I think you should be about your business.”
Michael couldn’t blame them. A party would announce Jensen’s intent to be on good terms with the Second Empire but had rejected a formal alliance. No doubt a public declaration to that effect would shortly be forthcoming. Akadius—and their allies—could have nothing to complain about.
“Once you’ve destroyed Akadius…” Marshall Klein said, “if you destroy Akadius, we might re-consider your offer.”
Caldwell 86, the Corporate States, the Diamond Empire and the Imperium…and these were just the ones Michael had personal knowledge of. The Second Empire was surrounded by other states, peoples, corporations and polities, and some of these were not so far away. No doubt there were many others. It occurred to Michael, and not for the first time, that the Second Empire, despite its sporadic expansion, sent few ships beyond its borders. He had discussed this once with Arcturus, who had expressed frustration.
“They’re afraid. Nobody will admit it, but the Imperial Senate fears what might be out there. The Swarm was bad and the Hirrill were worse.” Arcturus had shaken his head. “It’s official policy to at least contact all member worlds of the First Empire, to offer them membership where appropriate but in reality, we stick pretty close to home.”
Ignorance, in Michael’s opinion, was not bliss. What they didn’t know could hurt them. The Imperium had been a case in point and so, it appeared, were the Corporate States.
“What’s out there?” Michael had asked Leena Tervo, “further in toward galactic center?”
“What you would expect. It’s a big galaxy. Worlds, intelligent beings of all sorts and shapes and sizes. Empires, Confederations, Republics, you name it.”
“How many?”
“We trade with dozens. We know the names of dozens more.”
It was embarrassing to Michael that this collection of mini-empires travelled more widely, traded with more people and knew more about the farther reaches of the galaxy than did the mighty Second Interstellar Empire of Mankind. Romulus had already downloaded all the publicly available information into Gehenna’s database. Arcturus, Michael thought, would be pleased to receive it. Or not.
In the end, Michael Glover, former Governor-General, Imperial Viceroy and soldier of the Empire, didn’t care in the slightest. He had never been inclined to bury his head in the sand. The rest of them could pretend that the larger Universe did not exist. Not him.
“Three, two, one…” Captain Thorenson counted down.
Gehenna emerged from slip-space onto the edges of the Akadius system. Nothing met them. Nothing was out there. Michael breathed a sigh of relief. In the distance, Akadius twinkled like a far away star.
“Proceed,” Captain Thorenson said. Secure behind her stealth screening, Gehenna moved forward.
One hour later, a ship shimmered into existence, then another, and another.
“Oh, shit,” Captain Thorenson said.
A fleet lay spread out around them, fifty ships, looking very much like First Empire destroyers, and three much larger ships, almost as large as Gehenna. All fifty-three ships opened fire. A swarm of torpedoes raced across the distance.
The Imperium had possessed stealth screening. So did Akadius, and worse, the Akadius fleet had detected Gehenna’s presence. Nobody, to Michael’s knowledge, had ever developed a detector for stealth screening. Akadius apparently had.
They were surrounded by a fleet whose offensive capabilities were unknown but presumably formidable.
Gehenna’s brain was programmed for every conceivable scenario. There was nothing for any of the humans aboard to do. A klaxon sounded. A disembodied voice announced, “All hands, battle stations.”
Organic reactions and reflexes could not compete with the computerized precision of automated, autonomous weaponry. “Battle stations” meant stay in your quarters, activate your personal screens, sit tight and pray.
The torpedoes impacted on Gehenna’s shields and exploded. The great ship shuddered. “Outer shield is down,” a voice announced.
“Professor Scott,” Michael said into the web. “Is your device operational?”
Arlo Scott’s face appeared on Michael’s internal server. He looked annoyed. “It should be,” he said, “but it hasn’t been tested yet.”
There was nowhere to run. An entire fleet lay between them and the transit point into slip-space. The next salvo, or the one after, would destroy them.
“We are surrounded by an enemy fleet and they’re firing miss
iles at us. It’s now or never, Professor. If your device does not work, we will be obliterated within ten minutes.”
“Oh,” Arlo Scott raised a brow. “That puts a different light on things.” His face vanished from Michael’s awareness. Ten seconds later, a glowing blue ring, almost a kilometer across, appeared in space, ahead of the ship.
The command helmet on Twyla Thorenson’s head conveyed her orders to the brain. Gehenna surged forward. Behind them, the blue ring collapsed. The great ship shuddered, then shuddered again as a hail of elemental particles slashed across her shields.
“Where are we?” Captain Thorenson demanded.
“I don’t know,” Arlo Scott’s calm voice replied. “All I can state with certainty is that this is a newly formed cosmos, which is still in the process of expansion from its initial singularity. We are moving much faster than the speed of light.”
“Can you get us out?”
“I think so.”
Another blue ring appeared, this one flickering, emitting bright flashes as they watched. “The background radiation in this space is far higher than in our own,” Arlo Scott said. “I suggest that we traverse the barrier quickly. I’m not sure how long we can maintain it.”
Gehenna shot forward. The ring collapsed. Far behind the ship, a spiral galaxy turned on its axis. Michael drew a deep relieved sigh.
“Is that the Milky Way?” Captain Thorenson said.
“Let us hope so,” Arlo Scott replied.
A few minutes later, their instruments confirmed that it was indeed the Milky Way, and that it would take them at least two weeks to return.
“That could have gone better,” Captain Thorenson remarked.
“And we could have been dead,” Michael said. Then, to Arlo Scott, he said, “You have our thanks, Professor.” He smiled through the link. “And since you have proven that you’re capable of miracles, I have another little task for you...”
An attack that came close to destroying the ship and killing them all naturally tended to concentrate the mind. The staff meeting, a few hours later, was well attended.
The Well of Time Page 11