by A. K. DuBoff
Only, Tiff didn’t die in battle. She was killed in her home. Jason swallowed. “Never go into an engagement thinking of ‘acceptable losses’. We keep everyone safe, whenever possible. But, sometimes, there are losses we must accept.”
The students nodded their understanding. It was a subtle difference in wording, but it was an important distinction they’d do well to remember.
“However, the missteps today had nothing to do with your flying abilities, so we will proceed with TK training in the IT-1s,” Jason announced.
Relieved sighs sounded around the room, though there were no smiles to be found.
“Don’t think that gets you off the hook,” he continued. “We’re going to keep working this scenario until I’m satisfied that you’ve done everything possible to get a positive outcome.”
The students nodded their understanding.
“It wasn’t all bad, though. You worked together when it mattered, despite not having flown together as a unit before. One of the most important parts of being an Agent is that you need to be adaptable. Missions aren’t handed to you with one clear solution.” He looked around the glum faces. “Think about what you could have done differently. We’ll alternate flight time and simulator practice until you get it right. Next class, convene at the surface port, suited up and ready to fly.”
Jason knew he couldn’t control what would happen to his students in their careers, or what future wars they might face, but he could help prepare them to face the darkness of their universe. That was within his control. And he’d do everything in his power to give them the tools they needed to make it home alive.
Chapter 4
The whole situation with Monsari was infuriating enough, but now Wil had Dahl to deal with, too. Negotiating with the Aesir was one of the last things he wanted to worry about, but he’d need to find a way to strike a manufacturing deal today.
For all their ‘divine mystic’ style talk, the Aesir were awfully demanding and high-maintenance. Wil valued Dahl’s friendship and the wisdom of the Aesir as a people, but some days he wished he could have a normal relationship with them where they could speak in straightforward language and he didn’t have to dissect every statement for its hidden meaning.
Oh well. At least a face-to-face chat about this Erebus situation will quickly resolve the issue and we can figure out a path forward together. The flight over would give him a chance to turn around his sour attitude.
Still, he felt his frustrations with the Monsari Dynasty were valid. Beyond the personal assault on Wil, it was clear Celine wasn’t acting in the best interest of her people from a business standpoint, but instead she was being willfully blind to the bigger picture. If there was one thing Wil couldn’t stand, it was anyone behaving selfishly to further their own interests. That kind of behavior was all too common in business and politics—one of the reasons he avoided those interactions whenever possible. Everything in the TSS was mission-oriented, serving a greater good; he liked it that way.
All that he knew for sure was something was amiss with Monsari, and that meant a safety risk for the Taran Empire as a whole. MPS was too critical to the civilization’s infrastructure to leave unchecked. The TSS, or perhaps the High Council, might need to intervene. Direct action against one of the High Dynasties would be tricky, but he didn’t trust Celine one bit after his recent encounter.
They needed people who could be trusted in such pivotal leadership roles. Leaders who put Taran citizens first. Who were transparent in their decisions. Who had a moral foundation rooted in making lives better for those who’d never had a chance to get ahead.
Monsari had been rotting for a long time, but their proprietary product had kept them relevant. If that product was, indeed, going by the wayside, this might be a chance to mix things up. Wil had given Celine a chance to pivot the business and let their past interpersonal issues be bygones. She had not only rejected the offer but had taken an outright act of aggression in response. That made Monsari an enemy in his mind.
Wil would know soon how the Aesir felt about the matter. Their own infrastructure development needs were tied to MPS, so they had a vested interest in the situation regardless of their disdain for Taran politics.
The TSS transport ship dropped Wil at Bolhem Station, where it would await his return. Since the Aesir kept the precise location of their strongholds hidden, meeting at the station and having them escort him the rest of the way was the norm.
The Aesir ship was waiting when he arrived. Its smooth, sculptural lines gave the craft an almost organic shape, as if rivulets of metal had been poured into a riverbed. Like all other Taran craft, it had a forked assembly at the aft for the jump drive.
Wil approached the docking berth and was greeted by an Acolyte who worked closely with the council of the Aesir’s Oracles. She had escorted Wil on several of his previous visits, so he gave her a friendly smile of recognition.
“Nice to see you again, Emara,” he said. “How have you been?”
She bowed her head. “The grand patterns have favored us.”
She’s well on her way toward sounding like an Oracle, that’s for sure. Wil wasn’t sure how old the woman was, but she had the somewhat ageless look of those who’d undergone rejuvenation therapy. For all he knew, she might be into her hundreds.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice,” Wil said. Not that I wanted to meet now, but better sooner than never.
“The council is waiting to speak with you. Come with me.” Emara bowed her head again before turning to ascend the gangway.
Wil followed her inside the transport ship. As he passed through the threshold, he sensed the familiar mental tug of the ship’s bioelectronic interface system. The Aesir hadn’t given him complete syncing ability with their vessels, but he was keyed into the systems enough to know a jump course was locked in and ready to initiate as soon as the vessel was far enough from the dock.
Emara escorted Wil to an observation room at the bow of the ship, which had an expansive viewport spanning the length of the back wall. Within moments of entering the lounge, the view outside changed from the spaceport to an uninterrupted starscape.
A low vibration emanated from the deck, and time appeared to elongate for a moment as blue-green ribbons of light enveloped the vessel.
Wil’s partial link with the ship was enough to let him know they’d arrive at their destination within fifteen minutes. He knew Emara wasn’t one for small-talk, so he used the time to collect his thoughts.
Another moment of apparent time dilation marked the end of the jump. Rather than the typical view of a starscape, however, the view outside changed from subspace to the bizarre sight of a spatial rift—like an echo of normal space with warped representations of where stars and planets stood in normal spacetime reality. The rifts housing the Aesir strongholds existed in a habitable realm just at the edge of spacetime, bound by the same conventions but invisible to anyone outside the rift. It was the perfect hiding place, with the added benefit of enhancing abilities due to its slightly elevated position in the dimensional hierarchy.
More impressive than the rift itself were the structures the Aesir had constructed within the strange between-space. This capital city was the largest, or so Wil had been told. He took in the sight with wonder, still finding new awe-inspiring details even after dozens of visits.
The structure was an engineering marvel, among the most impressive he had witnessed firsthand. A massive, spinning ring served as the city’s framework, offering centrifugal gravity rather than the simulated gravity found on most TSS stations, which made it a more sustainable habitat for off-planet life. In addition, a miniature artificial star at the center of the ring provided a light source to support the extensive green spaces wrapping the upper deck of the ring. Several glass-walled towers rose dozens of stories above the surface, from which one could observe a dizzying view of the ‘ground’ curving around to eventually become the ‘sky’. Lower decks of the ring were filled
with the residential and commercial services for the community.
The Aesir had several developments across different spatial rifts near the galactic core, based on what he had been told. Wil had never visited any others personally, and Dahl had been reticent about the specifics regarding the location and population of the additional communities.
As much as the Aesir claim they want to work with us and reunite the different branches of Tarans, they don’t treat us like we’re all the same—and we’re not. Wil wasn’t sure where that left them.
One look at the station the size of a small planet confirmed the Aesir had technological capabilities more advanced than those readily accessible to people on most Taran worlds. It wasn’t that they couldn’t understand the technical schematics or learn how to construct such things, but rather that the rest of the Empire was stuck in a rut regarding innovation. They’d achieved a comfortable balance between quality-of-life conveniences and cost—both in terms of labor and materials acquisition—so there was little incentive to try something new that might upset the equilibrium.
The Aesir, conversely, had been forced to make the most of very little. A mere two thousand individuals had left the Priesthood to form the Aesir, relying on their knowledge to maximize their limited resources. The resulting culture that had developed over the past millennium was now nothing short of astounding.
The ship docked on the lower portion of the massive ring in an area reserved for priority traffic. Though the Aesir’s leaders didn’t have many occasions to venture beyond the safety of their rift, the formality of their culture demanded positions of honor for their esteemed leaders.
Once the ship was docked, Wil descended the access gangway, where he was greeted by two additional Acolytes. The man and woman each bowed their head.
“Welcome back,” the man said as his gaze rose to meet Wil’s. “The council is waiting for you.”
Wil politely bowed his head in response, even though he knew the escorts were of a lower station. “I look forward to the meeting.”
A subtle shift in the Acolytes’ stances was their only protest to his unbidden deference.
Emara joined them, and the three escorts led Wil through the port’s broad concourses to an elevator.
The car smoothly raced upward as soon as the doors closed, with the changing view out the transparent back wall revealing the path. As it rose, the massive city sprawled across the broad ring receded in dizzying fashion.
As soon as the car glided to a smooth halt, the doors slid open to reveal four members of the Aesir’s council of Oracles, led by Dahl.
“Greetings, Cadicle.” His old friend smiled warmly. “I hope this day finds you well.”
“We have our health, so there’s that.” Wil returned the smile and bowed his head to the Oracles. “Thank you for meeting with me.”
Dahl held out his hand toward the conference room. “Come, let us speak.”
Even after decades of visiting the tower, Wil had never gotten over the feeling of vertigo while stepping over glass block inlays on the floor, which provided a view all the way down to the ground two hundred meters below. He was well aware of the irony that he could do spins in a fighter at dizzying speeds without issue but walking inside a stable building dropped his stomach to his feet.
The conference room itself was a transparent dome cantilevered from the side of the building, like drop of dew on a glass blade. An oval table occupied the center of the room, accompanied by transparent plastic chairs well-suited to the airy space. Half of the seats were already occupied by the remaining members of the council.
Dahl took a seat at the far head of the table and the other Oracles took their customary positions, leaving the chair closest to the door for Wil. He detested having his back to the entry but tried to keep the thought to himself. Diplomacy was definitely a greater challenge in a room full of powerful telepaths.
Wil folded his hands on the tabletop. “I wanted to speak with you today because we’re at a critical juncture. I’d like your opinions about how best to proceed.”
Dahl nodded for him to continue.
“Since we received the gifted power core from the Erebus, the TSS has been conducting thorough tests of the device. We have been able to manufacture additional prototypes based on the provided plans, and those devices have successfully passed safety and functional testing. As promised by the Erebus, the materials needed to mass-produce cores are abundant and accessible. That leaves us to the matter of how to scale up production.”
Wil looked around the faces at the table. Their ageless faces were impassive, but their glowing eyes were sharp with calculated reasoning.
An electrical buzz filled the air—a telltale sign of telepathic conversation between the Oracles.
When no one offered immediate commentary, Wil decided to prompt them with a more direct question. “Taran politics are messy; you know that better than most. It goes without saying that the manufacture of these power cores has the potential to put MPS out of business, which could substantially shift the long-held power structure. That level of upset doesn’t seem prudent, so I wanted to discuss the possibility of the Aesir—”
“No.” The single word from Dahl hung in the room.
Wil leaned back in his chair, not sure how to take it from there. Not even a discussion?
He struggled to keep his annoyance in check. Dahl knew what Wil had wanted to meet about, so it was disrespectful of his time and authority to demand an in-person meeting only to shoot him down without exploring the issue in full.
“There’s actually a compelling case for—” Wil tried again.
“No,” Dahl repeated. “The Aesir cannot and will not involve ourselves in day-to-day matters of the Empire. Providing a critical infrastructure role would do just that.”
I understand where they’re coming from, but either we’re working together or we’re not. They can’t stand on the sidelines and only participate when it’s convenient for them. Wil met the gaze of each Oracle in turn. “I appreciate your reluctance to involve yourself in the affairs of the Empire, but the truth is that we need a more neutral partner on this initiative. Any existing political player within the Empire will gain too much power from this opportunity. You have proven yourselves to be rational and capable stewards, so…”
He faded out when Dahl held up his hand.
“Cadicle, we appreciate you holding us in such high regard for this role, but it is not a position we can take on,” the Oracle stated. “However, we do have a recommendation for a group you may not have considered. The Lynaedans.”
Wil’s brows raised with surprise at the suggestion. I had not thought of them, but that’s an interesting idea…
Like the Aesir, the Lynaedans operated somewhat independently from the rest of the Taran Empire, but not to the same extreme degree. Their primary reason for doing so was because of their strong inclination toward technology, going beyond ‘use’ by incorporating cybernetic components into their very being. The result was a number of cultural quirks related to openness and honesty that made relationships with non-modified Tarans challenging, though it actually made them exceptionally transparent business partners.
He considered the proposal, nodding. “An intriguing suggestion,” he said at last.
“We understand that you have formed a working relationship with the Lynaedans while investigating a possible bioelectronic interface solution for those without Gifts to use certain technology in the information Archive we gave you,” Dahl said.
“Yes, we have positive relationships with their leadership,” Wil confirmed.
The Oracle tilted his head. “Why do you seem hesitant, then?”
“They’re still closely involved in Taran commerce. The concern is that they might use the gift of this technology to leverage a position of power.”
One of the other Oracles, Jayne, raised a slim eyebrow. “And the Aesir couldn’t do the same?”
“You’ve made your position opposing such matters
quite clear. Many with the Lynaedans are comparatively wealth-minded. I have tentative trust in their leaders, but I could see those among them seizing this opportunity for their own gain.”
“There are risks in every transaction,” Dahl stated. “We have taken the same gamble with you in many ways.”
“I hardly think that’s a fair comparison.”
“A matter of perspective.” There was surprising coldness to his tone.
Wil shook his head incredulously. “You don’t trust me, after all these years and everything I’ve done?”
Dahl stared at him squarely. “You haven’t followed through.”
The statement caught Wil by surprise, and he shifted in his seat. “Regarding what?”
“You have the tools to get the Taran Empire back on the right track, and yet you have done nothing.”
He couldn’t help scoffing. “I think ‘nothing’ isn’t giving me quite enough credit. I know I’ve been sitting on the technology Archive for a while now, but stewardship of that information is a responsibility I take seriously. I want to thoroughly evaluate everything before taking action.” Given how the Aesir seemed to sit back and observe before intervening, he thought they would have admired his diligence, not condemn it.
He suspected the Aesir had given him the Archive as a test as to see how he’d handle the dissemination of its contents among the Taran people. Wil had personally browsed through the information on multiple occasions to see what might be easy to implement, but even the simplest items came with potential risks or disadvantages. Many of the technologies could perform feats tantamount to miracles. Populations would skyrocket if people didn’t regularly die from old age, and food and other resources would become more constrained as a consequence. Competition would be even fiercer. There was a lot to consider. So, instead, he had kept knowledge of the Archive within a trusted group until they could decide on a feasible path forward.