The third Chancellor, Wilkes Stinson, pointed to the cubes.
“But only if they work in practice as you say.”
“They do.”
“We’ve yet to see a field test.”
“Your own journey through a cube was not convincing?”
Stinson shaded his eyes. “It was impressive. Yes. And I know what I saw and felt. However, we need to see full integration with the new drive to verify its capability.”
Amayas grabbed the holowindows and tossed them away like trash. He rested his right cheek against a thumb and used his forefinger to draw circles on his temple. Exeter saw this subtle maneuver on occasion – right before Amayas lost his temper.
“Hmm. To recap our session: Genetic supremacy is a redline for some, but not all. Financial leverage is an expected outcome. Suspicion remains about my claims regarding the cubes. Yes?”
Benjamin Hanover sighed. “A fair summation, but this is day one of our negotiations. Is it not tradition to lay out talking points and work toward the center over time?”
“For some,” Amayas said. “But not for Chancellors. Which is why you even had to ask. I have a recommendation. We should break now and ponder our positions. Missus will see to your needs.”
When the room emptied, Amayas contacted C&C.
“Exeter, their fleet is in geosynchronous orbit. Correct?”
“It is.”
“Good. Which vessel does Roe Harkness represent?”
“Their flagship. Herodotus.”
“How many onboard?”
“Sixteen hundred thirty-one.”
“Forward the manifest and watch Herodotus with care. I intend to give our guests one hour to reconsider their positions.”
Exeter knew he didn’t mean it. A cooling down period was not the Inventor’s negotiation style, and Chancellors were not the sort to change their stance. Exeter watched the Herodotus on one monitor and Amayas on the other.
After the Inventor reviewed the manifest, he tossed away the schematic and reached for a cube. He laid it in his right palm and massaged with his left. The spikes – radiating in perfect symmetry from the center to the eight corners – changed colors. Exeter wondered whether they were singing to Amayas, like they had the first time Exeter interacted with one. Were they providing him with the insight for his next action? Allowing him to see probabilities?
The key, Exeter learned early, was to choose the correct path among the eight and follow to its end without losing yourself inside the geometric fragment. The rope of fire was always there, hiding at the edge of vision, just as it was inside the cylinder. Take care to remain squared on the path. The song of the infinite did the rest.
When Exeter ventured inside a cube, he saw the grandeur of the Inventor’s plan. All the secrets Amayas withheld now blossomed, by invitation. Everything connected but for one relationship that baffled even the Inventor. Both heard the same song:
“All the generations see. All the generations hear. They are broken.”
Now, as Amayas decided his next move in dealing with these Chancellors, did the cube repeat these lyrics? Did Amayas finally understand what they meant?
The answer came near the end of the hour. Amayas directed Simone, aka Missus, to lead the delegation to the viewing platform above the former brontinium processing facility. It provided a panoramic look across the base and the stark surrounding landscape of Y-14.
“Has the Herodotus changed its orbital position?” Amayas asked Exeter on his way to the platform.
“No, but its landing bay has opened.”
“Have any shuttles or Scrams departed?”
“No.”
“Exeter, do you understand what I might ask you to do?”
“Yes.”
“Will you do this without hesitation?”
“For you, Amayas? Anything.”
Exeter switched to the secure cam inside the viewing platform. The three Chancellors – all in pretentious garb that signaled their allegiance to a failed lineage – huddled in whispers until the Inventor arrived. They greeted him with a traditional side nod.
Amayas jumped straight to the point.
“Few humans – Chancellors or otherwise – have lived to witness the making of history. What I propose is no less than the reinvention of the human socioeconomic model. We can move forward together or part ways. This corner of the galaxy is large enough for you to stake an independent claim. Do you assent to my conditions and agree to the proposed constitution?”
Roe Harkness stepped forward. “We agree you have given yourself too much power, Inventor. You claim to have egalitarian goals, but you insist all members of the alliance assent to compromise on your terms.”
Benjamin Hanover continued. “We accept your economic platform and will await a field test of the cubes in due course. However, we believe the constitution must be renegotiated.”
“How so?”
Wilkes Stinson replied. “A provisional council of representatives from the ten colonies and the Chancellory should be formed at once. We will share equal responsibility in charting our path, with the council voting on all future actions. If this is to be an egalitarian venture, as you say, then your role should be as council chair, not as overlord.”
“You’ve done a great service,” Harkness said. “Let us help you.”
Amayas nodded and stepped through them. He walked to the edge of the platform and pointed northeast.
“When I took control of Artemis a few years ago, I found architectural elements not listed on the original designs. They were upgrades, you might call them. If you look closely, you’ll see a knoll of sorts a hundred kilometers beyond the smelting barrels. The device inside I thought to be a bit over the top, then I remembered the final years of this place. The struggle to produce brontinium and distribute the extract to the Chancellors with equity. The internal war between families no one talked about. The reason this place was abandoned. It all made sense. The last owners needed to defend themselves against predators. After some time, I got around to restarting the device.”
He threw open a holowindow, which was an orbital view of the Chancellor fleet from the perspective of a geosynchronous drone. Three massive liners – once used to cruise the Collectorate in luxury – sat naked above the rocky planetoid. This was the signal.
Exeter responded. “I have a lock, Amayas.”
“I killed so many,” the Inventor told his guests. “I bore my lineage in shame and vowed to end the cycle. I hoped the Chancellors would be part of my solution. Now, I have doubts.”
“Three Scrams are departing the landing bay, Amayas.”
“Too bad.” He turned to the guests. “They built a railgun. Fire.”
Artemis shook as a massive discharge of electromagnetic energy from inside the knoll gave birth to a sun-bright pulsation rocketing toward space. One of the Chancellors screamed as the fleet sat helpless, and the pulse accelerated.
The Herodotus took the hit amidships. A white flash at impact was followed by fragmentation and disintegration. The concussion took out smaller vessels leaving the bay.
Amayas didn’t give the three a chance to rage. He revealed his weapon with the clinical precision of a veteran soldier and shot each through the head.
“Exeter, give the survivors a few minutes of contemplation then invite new delegates to the base.”
“And if they refuse or demand to speak with the others?”
“Remind them how their entire military complement was bivouacked on the Herodotus. They are alone, and no one wants them – except us. I suspect they’ll see reason.”
“Yes, Amayas. I’m sure they will.”
Days later, after the Chancellor ships left in full support of the constitution and vowing absolute fealty to the Inventor, Exeter and Amayas dined together in the demonstration lab. A cube glowed between them, and it sang.
“What have you learned?” Amayas asked his disciple.
“The necessary thing is the simplest.”
&
nbsp; “And?”
“Many will die in the service of a new future.”
“Millions.”
“The necessary thing to achieve the greater good.”
“I am tired of war, Exeter. I’ve fought them all my life. But I will stomach one more because I see beyond its end. And no matter how long it is fought, I’ll have the joy of knowing you and I will be there to see the peace.”
“How can you be sure? We’ll have many enemies.”
Amayas grabbed the cube. Its pink geometry glowed in his eyes.
“I have it on the best authority, Exeter.”
The boy, now almost a man, lay a hand over the cube as well.
“I’ve been thinking, Amayas. It wants to have a name, and I know the perfect one. Let’s call it the Splinter.”
PART THREE
UNMATCHED
“Why were they so keen to believe in the impossible?”
“Because life is not interesting enough on its own terms.”
33
Two years later - SY 5366
A T THE VERY LEAST, KARA’S CELL featured the comforts of the privileged. A bed with a soft mattress, a tea service with pastries, and a sumptuous reading chair next to a kaleidosound, which played classic instrumentals from Evo Moon. The air freshener smelled of coconut. When she awoke, Kara needed a moment to remember where she left off with the book lying in her lap. Had she dozed before marking the page? It made no difference, for she couldn’t remember where the story was heading, if it had a plot at all.
She put the tome aside and stretched. She was stiff all over, as if she’d lain limp in this chair for days. Kara dismissed the idea because the pastries appeared fresh, and hot tea steamed in a hand-painted porcelain cup. She recognized the ornate design: This was Royal Cairns, imported from a planet two hundred light-years from Hokkaido.
“Only the best for the Gentry,” she said.
Kara sipped the tea. It was a mature blend featuring leaves from the islands of Poortai and Lingard. She often took her tea with cream, but the service only included sugar and lemon.
A disturbing oversight. “Unacceptable. They know my preference.”
Who would face the consequence? Kara wasn’t sure, but she’d conduct an investigation before day’s end. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to ring the bell and gauge the first servant’s reaction when she pointed out the missing cream. Staff was so predictable when cornered. Their body language gave away their secrets. Honorable Mother taught Kara the tricks for unmasking traitors in the household.
She rang the bell and sipped her naked tea. The response was not immediate – a second point of grave concern. By the time someone did arrive outside her cell, Kara’s back was turned as she reviewed the auto-track options for the kaleidosound.
“You’re being very demanding today,” a young man said. “The staff are quite put out.”
Kara swung about.
“Lang,” she said to her brother. “You’re back. It’s been so long.”
Lang cut a sharp figure – lean and tall, hands slipped into the pockets of his white tuxedo jacket. He leaned against the cell door.
“I haven’t been around, Kara, because it’s discomforting to see my little sister imprisoned.”
“Ah. Leave poor Kara in solitude to think about her sins.”
Lang dangled a key before her and laughed.
“Have you?”
“My sins are petty, Lang. Are you going to set me free?”
“I thought to. But then, it occurred to me: What lesson will you learn? You can’t simply walk away without some consequence for your actions.”
Something about Lang struck a familiar yet awkward note.
“I just realized, Brother. You wore that same tuxedo at Sanhae three years ago.”
“Did I?”
“Oh, yes. I remember the red cuffs. An interesting choice. But you’re taller now. I’m surprised it fits you so well.”
Lang flexed inside the suit. “I suppose it is a bit snug.”
“You’re overdressed, Lang.”
He shaded his eyes. She saw momentary confusion.
“No,” he said after hesitating. “I’m dressed as I should be.”
“What will it take for my beautifully attired brother to open this cell?”
“Honesty, Kara. A full accounting. We’re never truly free until we admit our transgressions.”
“Is that right? So, if I unburden myself, will you do the same?”
He pushed the key into the lock and turned it.
“There’s always a condition with you, Honored Sister.” He pushed the door open. “Predictable to the last.” He took her hand. “Come.”
Arm in arm, he escorted her as if to a ball. Lang smelled of roasted almonds and sweet wine. Didn’t he used to like those in combination after the evening dine? Or was she remembering something else? And why was the fragrance so strong, as if he were lathered in it?
They took the long stairs up and out of a building unfamiliar to Kara, but they exited into a familiar garden. Birds flew in and out of a grove of bullabast trees like armies invading and retreating.
“You’ve been unusually burdensome,” Lang said. “People are concerned, Kara. They want to protect you.”
“What people?”
“Honorable Father and Mother, for a start.”
“What concerns them?”
“Your activities. They were mildly annoyed by your persistence at first. But this latest maneuver was dangerous.”
She heard the songs of the many birds, their plumage a mélange of colors from a dozen families. Kara didn’t want to answer Lang’s accusation. Why couldn’t they sit on a bench and listen to the birds?
“I must confess,” Lang said, “I bear some responsibility. I set you on this silly quest. If I had walked away without ever sharing my burden, you’d be conflict-free.”
Kara felt the quivers of the past shake her present. “They’re going to burn it all. Keep a close eye. Be a soldier.”
Sanhae. Three years ago.
“I did what you asked,” she said. “I never knew where it would lead me, if anywhere.”
“For a long while, Honorable Mother and Father thought you’d lose interest after many dead ends. They took their eyes off you for a time. Now, they regret it.”
“Why? Because I’ve become stronger than my brothers?”
“No. You listened to me and did exactly what I said. Kara, why did you go to High Cannon Collective? Your business did not have to be conducted face to face.”
She felt a twinge of anxiety, but not because of Lang’s question. Something else bothered her, a piece hiding in plain sight.
“I don’t trust them, Lang. High Cannon is a threat. They’re working with agents from other planets.”
“To what end?”
“I can’t say, but it has to do with the rings. Perhaps more.”
“And you thought a business trip would uncover their secrets?”
“Give me credit, Brother. I knew better than to work alone.”
“I thought as much. You’re clever, Kara. More than Mother and Father ever gave you credit for.” They stopped at the walkway’s end, overlooking a promontory above the northern coast. “Sit.”
A table was waiting, small and round, a tea service prepared. He poured her tea with one hand then added a touch of cream with the other. Lang stirred three times.
“Try it.”
Ah, yes. Perfectly clothed this time.
“What do you want to know, Brother?”
“All the particulars. The plan. The objective. The collaborators.”
“You’re being extremely inquisitive. You rarely cared about me growing up.”
“I always cared, but I dared not show it. And don’t worry, Kara. I won’t try to sabotage or diminish your accomplishments. I know how important they are to you.”
This tea was exceptional. Did it taste better outdoors? Was there a special ingredient?
“I wasn’t there to uncov
er secrets,” she said. “I only planted devices to blind the security grid.”
He tweaked his neck. “Fascinating. What sort of devices?”
“I don’t know. He never told me their name. But Special Services used them.”
“He?”
“Yes. He goes by Hamilton Cortez. He was a Chancellor.”
“Ah.” Lang rapped the table. “A Randall. So, this Cortez gave you the devices. Why? What was his stake in this quest of yours?”
“I’m not sure. Fears of the past, I suspect. I think he’s been running for many years.”
“Who else is involved?”
“A few. One you might know. Lan Chua. It was the most amazing thing, Brother. Did you know Lan Chua runs Green Sun?”
Lang was taken aback, his shoulders stiff.
“The terrorists? Our Chairman of Discipline? Are you certain?”
“Yes. He admitted to it freely. I met many of his soldiers. They’re quite loyal. I don’t agree with their politics, of course, but they appear committed. I’ve never known a Hokki who lived a double life.”
Lang stretched his legs and walked to the edge of the promontory.
“Why would you fall in league with terrorists and a Randall?”
“I don’t believe ‘Randall’ is a fair term. He’s a complicated man, but he chose us over the Chancellors. Mustn’t we give him credit?”
“What is the plan, Kara? What will your collaborators do?”
“Gather intelligence. Infiltrate High Cannon. I don’t want them to become violent, but I’m afraid they might kill people if threatened.”
“When?”
“I don’t know the exact hour. I left that part to Hamilton and Lan. They said the less I know, the safer I’ll be.”
“How will they arrive?”
“They took a submarine from Baangarden. Lang, why does all this matter to you? I followed your clues these past three years. It’s what you wanted.”
“Was it now?”
“Yes. You said they wanted you to be their ‘man for the future.’ But I don’t think you wanted to be.”
The Simmering Seas Page 25