“A bit more than a little.” Michael shrugged. “Only a bit.”
“I was hoping to see you sooner, but then, I couldn’t make the trail too obvious, or you might have suspected.”
“No,” Michael said, “of course not.”
“Prepare for every eventuality. Then you will never be surprised. Isn’t that what a good military man is taught and believes?”
Michael frowned at the face in the screen. “Where is Thomas?”
“Thomas is dead.” The face smiled. “I killed him.”
“Did you? Are you sure?”
“Very sure.”
“Why? Michael asked.
Roderick Allen’s face…Xenophon’s face, a face that Michael had known well, over two thousand years ago, and had never thought to see again, grimaced at him from out of the screen. “Partly, because of what he did to you.” He pursed his lips. “Did you ever consider the career of the original Alexander? Alexander the so-called Great?’”
“Yes, actually. I have.”
What would you like me to do? Romulus subvocalized.
Wait. It’s too soon.
“And what were your impressions?”
“I was not as impressed as I had expected to be.”
“No. Alexander in fact, was an idiot. An adolescent with dreams of conquering the world, at which he succeeded, and in the process, destroyed countless peoples and nations much older and more impressive than his own. Why did he do it? What was the point? Did he desire to bring civilization and enlightenment to all mankind? Hardly. Did he simply want power? Did he want to rule? Doubtful. All he did was conquer, and then move on to the next conquest. It has long been thought that the real brains behind the operation were his generals, Ptolemy, Saleucus, Krateros and the rest. Alexander was the son of the King, and then he became the King in his turn, probably after assassinating the old man. He was a convenient figurehead, probably little more.”
Michael nodded. “And why is this relevant?”
“Thomas Montgomery, Alexander, always had a staff of very well-qualified advisors, and his advisors gave him very good advice. Thomas played his role. He was good with people. He had charisma. He was tall and handsome and charming and very, very sure of himself, the very definition of a narcissistic personality disorder. He wanted things to be a certain way and so that is the way they must be. Poof. Like magic.
“Thomas Montgomery had a few early successes, more by luck than intelligence. His victories were tactical, not strategic. High command considered him a vacuous cipher, but he did have a few significant abilities. He wasn’t stupid, though he was hardly the genius that legend depicts him. He could recognize talent and he could inspire loyalty. A pity that loyalty was not returned. In the end, it was always about Thomas Montgomery.
“And then you disappeared.” Roderick Allen shrugged. “It wasn’t hard to discover what had happened, in general terms at least. The men he picked were fanatically loyal but some were proud of what they did and some few felt guilty. You, also, were a hero of the Empire. They talked.
“I was ambivalent regarding Thomas’ plans. He was right about the Imperator. The Imperator was insane, but the privy council and Parliament were able to forestall the worst of his excesses.” The face in the monitor screen grimaced. “If Thomas had led a campaign to place Prince Leksha on the throne, or Princess Eugenie, I would have supported him, but no, it had to be Thomas Montgomery. It had to be himself. I followed orders but after the first few campaigns, I withheld my advice, and by then, he didn’t want it.
“The war was devastating. And then Saleucus was found dead in his bed, apparently poisoned, and it was just Thomas and myself and I knew then that this had gone on long enough.
“I shot him in the head and then I took my personal guard and I disappeared.”
“And now, you are here,” Michael said. “How did that happen?”
Xenophon shrugged. “I made it a point to keep apprised of military research projects. Most of these came to nothing, but some bore spectacular fruit. The projects regarding the construction of pocket universes and gateways through what used to be referred to as the Multiverse were already underway when you disappeared.” Xenophon shook his head. “By then, the Empire was in chaos. Its total collapse only a few months away. I decided to vanish. I came here.”
“You went to sleep?”
“No,” Xenophon said. “I presume that’s what Thomas did to you? Stored you away somewhere safe and hidden?”
“Yes.”
“A wise choice, to preserve a valuable resource, but no, that’s not what I did. First, I tucked an entire fleet of the most advanced ships into a pocket universe. Then I came here, to the most distant, isolated world I could imagine, and I built a fortress, and then I entered into it and have spent the last million years playing games, and biding my time.”
“Million years…”
Xenophon smiled.
“You’re a datamorph,” Michael said.
“I am. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Cognoscenti?”
“Yes. I know them.”
“I do not take the Cognoscenti’s ideas seriously, regarding the end of the universe and whatever God may have planned, but I do like the idea of eternal life. Red dwarf suns are stable. They will last for trillions of years, far longer than stars such as Sol. I built the largest ghost world ever constructed, and I buried it here, far underground.”
“You can’t be alone, down there.”
“Of course not. I took thousands of my people and their families with me, and in the years since, my virtual followers have been busy making virtual babies. We number in the trillions now.”
“Planning exactly what?”
Michael had a pretty good idea what Roderick Allen was planning, but he wanted to hear him say it.
A wry expression crossed Xenophon’s face. “I believe it was Edmund Burke who said that a weak government is the most complete form of tyranny.”
“Edmund Burke…?” Michael shook his head. “From what I recall, Edmund Burke had a tendency to contradict himself. Edmund Burke said that an elected official must use his judgment and wisdom rather than simply carry out the will of the people, but that a government without the consent of the governed must soon fall. He said that men had a natural right to be free but that liberty must be constrained in order for a government to function.”
Xenophon smiled. “You would know that.” He shrugged. “These things are not necessarily contradictions.”
And not exactly germane to their current situation. “So, what do you want?” Michael said.
Xenophon gave a long sigh. “I have come to the reluctant conclusion that Thomas had a point.”
Couldn’t have seen that one coming. Michael resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Tell me about it,” he said.
Xenophon inclined his head: a gracious gesture, a kingly gesture. “The First Empire lasted for four-thousand years. It fell, not because an ambitious idiot like Thomas Montgomery decided to take over, but because of weakness and instability at the top. If the Imperator had not been insane, the Empire would still exist, in all of its glory.”
“An Eternal Emperor,” Michael said. “All wise, all knowing and immortal…this is what you propose?”
The corner of Xenophon’s mouth twitched upward. “Exactly.”
“Plato once wrote that democracy was the second-best form of government; the best form of government being a philosopher-king. Plato did caution that there are very few philosopher-kings.”
“Can’t beat the ancient Greeks for eternal wisdom,” Xenophon said.
“And where would we find such a paragon?”
Xenophon spread his hands. “I am humbly ready to serve.”
“From your secure base in another Universe.”
“Yes,” Xenophon said.
“Why didn’t you move before now?” Michael asked.
“I’ve been moving for two centuries. Guiding, directing, pruning…waiting for a new Empire to arise.
Before, I had nothing to work with.” Xenophon shook his head. “Your destruction of the Imperium ruined a lot of good work.” He sighed. “Also, I didn’t know about time dilation. It’s only luck that I happened to place my primary base here, in an alternate Universe that will still be around in a few billion years. The pocket Universe where I stored my fleet has long since expanded beyond the minimum density of space and vanished. I had to start from scratch. That’s not easy when you don’t have a body.”
“Commander Dumas had a body. So did all the others who tried to take over my ship.”
Xenophon waved a negligent hand. “Yes, well, if you want to wander about among the humans without attracting attention, you have to have a body.”
“You could have given yourself a body.”
“A minor detail. Certainly, I could have given myself a body. Bodies are easy to manufacture, but then what? A few hundred years and I would have needed another one. And why would I risk myself? This is what agents and underlings are for.”
Michael frowned at him. “You didn’t used to be so callous about your underlings.”
“I was younger then. Experience has taught me that a leader cannot afford to shy away from difficult decisions.”
“Was it difficult to destroy all of the planets that we passed on our way here?”
“Hardly all of them. Only the ones that defied me.”
“Speaking of difficult decisions.”
“Yes,” Xenophon said. “I did not do it lightly.”
“So, you intend to take over the Universe.”
Xenophon blinked at him. “Both Universes. Every Universe we can reach.”
“And what do you intend to do with me?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to join me.”
“Like I joined Thomas? A useful pawn?”
“Hardly a pawn. You would be a bishop at least.”
Michael frowned at Xenophon’s blandly smiling face. “And what if I say, ‘No?’”
“Then I shall very regretfully have to destroy you.”
“Your assassins have already tried to destroy me.”
Xenophon shrugged. “I had to know that you were up to the job. If they could have destroyed you, then you weren’t good enough.”
Michael nodded. “And how do you plan on destroying me, now? My ship is being held by a tractor beam, but aside from that, you’ve displayed no offensive capability whatsoever.”
No reason to let Xenophon know that Gehenna could detect his oncoming ships.
“Watch,” Xenophon said with a grin, “Watch, and learn.”
The monitor screens and holotanks displayed a 3D view of the space surrounding Gehenna. A ripple of light flowed across the screens. A ship appeared, then another and another, and soon, an entire fleet of ships as large or larger than Gehenna floated above the little world, halfway between Gehenna and the sun.
There are one hundred twenty of them, Romulus subvocalized.
“Impressive,” Michael said. “Is that all you’ve got?”
Xenophon grinned. “It’s all I’ve got here. Why? You think one hundred twenty capital ships isn’t enough? So, then, you have your choice: surrender or die. What do you say to that?”
Michael shook his head. He gave Xenophon a slow, sad smile. “No.”
Xenophon stared at him. “Really?”
Michael raised his head and glared. “No.”
“That’s a very unfortunate decision.”
“Eat shit and die,” Michael said.
“Michael,” Xenophon said. “I’m not the one who’s about to die.”
“Yes,” Michael said. “You are.”
Now, Michael said.
He screwed his helmet onto his head and sealed it, then pressed a button on his console. A blue, glowing ring appeared in the air in front of him. He stepped through it.
Chapter 28
A few hours before, the Shiloh, the Richmond, the Gettysburg, Lady Luck and all the other corvettes, pinnaces, scout ships and life-boats had finally finished loading. The merchant contingent onboard had bitterly protested.
“Life is tough,” Michael said. “This is a ship of war. You knew what you were getting into when you volunteered to come.”
The military was no happier. Michael listened to the debate for a few minutes, then cut it off. “I understand your feelings,” he said. “I respect them, but this is what we’re going to do.” He turned to Twyla Thorenson. “Take charge.” He turned and walked away.
Frankie and the others were harder. All of them objected, in Frankie’s case, strenuously. It did them no good. “If I have to put you under guard and have them carry you onboard, then I will,” he said.
“I will never forgive you for this,” Frankie said. She glared at him, her face red.
Michael shrugged. “You’ll be alive. That will have to do.”
Frankie’s lips trembled, then she turned and walked onto the Shiloh. Michael felt his shoulders sag.
Rosanna gave him an exasperated look. “She probably will forgive you,” she said. “Maybe.”
Michael sighed.
Curly shook his head and clapped Michael on the shoulder. “Hope to see you soon,” he said. Then he and Rosanna marched onboard.
Andrew Sloane-2 gave Michael a sympathetic look, then took a crying Gloriosa by the hand and pulled her away.
Richard Norlin was the last. “If I don’t see you again, thank you.”
Michael winced. “Let’s not be morbid,” he said.
Richard gave a half-hearted grin and entered the ship, carrying Andrew Sloane-1 in his little box.
“Well, Romulus, old boy…it’s you and me.”
The entire fleet of one hundred twenty giant ships opened fire on Gehenna.
On the near side of the sun, Shiloh flickered into view. A port opened in her side and a metal cube, five meters by five meters, floated outward and then, caught by the red star’s gravity, tumbled down.
Shiloh turned and fled.
On the other side of the small world, Richmond, commanded by Twyla Thorenson, hovered and released a large, unmanned drone. The drone’s jets ignited as it sped off into the distance, then Richmond turned, rose back into space and sped away, staying in the planet’s shadow.
The little star convulsed. Nuclear fire raced over its surface like a tsunami, met on the opposite side, then returned like an enormous, crashing wave. The largest solar flare in many millions of years rose upward and raced outward into space.
Before any of the enemy ships realized what had happened, the flare enveloped them. Their screens reacted instantly but it was far too little and far too late. One by one, the great ships’ screens were overwhelmed and with a burst of light, each ship dissolved into its component atoms.
Gehenna vanished as well but where she had hung in space, an enormous ball of fire, many times brighter than any sun, expanded, and where this fire touched the ground below, the ground melted. For ten kilometers, then twenty, the flame dug into the earth, obliterating it, exposing a gigantic metallic installation sheathed in its own glowing shields. The miniature sun faded, leaving the installation tilted to one side, exposed to the super-heated air but still there, still seemingly intact and unharmed.
And then, the drone arrived. It arrowed into the crater and exploded on top of Xenophon’s installation. The world shuddered. Another fireball, fifty, then a hundred kilometers wide, gouged its way into the dirt, and this time, when the flames finally faded away, nothing was left except flowing, red magma welling up from the center of the little world.
Was that Sirius, far in the distance? Was that Vega and Rigel and Canopus? Maybe. He hoped so. Regardless, Michael floated in space, nothing near him but Romulus and the endless dark and far, far away, far out of reach, the endless stars.
He sighed. His inner server told him that only a few minutes had passed since he had opened the gate and stepped through it, with Romulus by his side. By now, if their little plan had worked, Xenophon, his fleet and all of his surrounding
s were dead, reduced to their component atoms.
Three containers, one dropped into the sun, one placed on a drone and one held onboard Gehenna, each filled with over a hundred metric tons of anti-matter, each releasing over twenty million megatons of energy, almost as much as the ancient asteroid that had driven the dinosaurs to extinction, would have seen to that.
He hoped.
It was no small thing to destroy a trillion virtual lives, if they were lives. Michael was still uncertain of that, but what choice did he have?
Sometimes, one must make the choice to live or to die, to kill or be killed. Soldiers learned not to shirk the difficult decisions.
Regardless, the threat that Xenophon posed to the peace of at least two Universes, was, he hoped, gone.
Let’s see…his suit contained a small converter that would scrub carbon dioxide and return oxygen. The converter had enough power to last for at least fifty years. Air was not a problem. Food, however, was. Also, water. The suit contained enough of both for a week or so, and after that, might as well hit the suicide switch. At least, it wouldn’t hurt.
An hour later, a small light appeared in the distance. He drew a deep, relieved breath and smiled to himself.
A few minutes later, Richmond hovered in front of him. “Permission to come aboard?” he said.
Captain Thorenson’s face appeared on his internal server, Frankie right behind her.
“Let’s go home,” Frankie said.
A day later, Romulus said, “A cadet, one Marion Jones, has requested an interview.”
“Who?” Then Michael remembered. “Sure. Send her in.”
Michael almost smiled. Marion Jones was tiny, as tiny as Gloriosa. She had black hair cut short at the sides and dark, up-tilted eyes. She stopped in front of his desk and saluted.
“At ease, Midshipman,” he said.
She looked momentarily confused. “Midshipman?”
Michael grinned. “An ancient word for ‘cadet.’”
“Ah…” She shuffled her feet, then seemed to steel herself. “I wanted to thank you for getting Ensign LeClair off my back. I also wanted you to know that I didn’t need your help.”
Michael raised a brow. “No?”
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