by S. H. Jucha
“What about your business?” Candace asked. “You’ll be gone for about a half annual.”
Myseth chittered. “I’ve become a business figurehead. My offspring have been doing the work for more than five annuals. My eldest will assume the responsibilities. She’s ready.”
“You said you had three questions. I’ve only counted two,” Sam ventured.
“Ah, yes,” Myseth replied. “What does one wear to a conclave?”
30: Rep Selection
“How did Lawrence Teressi make the final seven?” Alex asked.
Gino and Katrina were being entertained in the owner’s suite of the Freedom.
“Fear,” Katrina replied.
“The Leaders were shaken by Daphne Lemoyne’s public attempt on your lives,” Gino explained. “Most of us assume that her father, Darse, either influenced her or ordered her to direct the operation.”
“If you had met Daphne, you’d have soon recognized her naked ambition and manipulative ways,” Katrina interjected.
“How does this relate to Teressi becoming a delegate to the conclave?” Alex asked.
“It’s widely known that Teressi and Lemoyne are the closest of associates, and they were extremely ardent supporters of Mahima,” Gino replied. “It’s a common thought among the Leaders that if Darse and Daphne would perpetrate such a heinous crime ...”
“Then Teressi might be contemplating the same kind of thing,” Alex finished, and he watched the two Leaders nod regretfully.
“And Shannon Brixton?” Renée inquired.
“Your secret rendezvous with Shannon has been the subject of gossip at nearly every meeting of two or more Leaders,” Katrina replied, laughing.
“And here we were told emphatically that Shannon had taken great pains to ensure our meeting was kept secret,” Alex said, shaking his head at the irony.
Katrina and Gino laughed at the idea that anything remained secret on Méridien for long.
“The only Leader I don’t know is Dieter Gerhardt,” Alex said.
“Dieter’s House is one of the oldest and wealthiest in the Confederation,” Katrina replied. “His house owns the majority of class one and two freighters.”
“Don’t underestimate Dieter and the Leaders who support him, Alex,” Gino warned. “He’s quiet. Doesn’t say much, but listens intently. He’s also a shrewd businessman.”
“Did he ask to be included?” Renée inquired.
“Negative,” Katrina replied. “Many Leaders put his name forward, and Dieter accepted.”
“Any chance that it was Dieter’s doing?” Renée asked.
Gino thought about the concept for a minute. Then he replied, “Dieter is quite capable of that type of subtle machination.”
Alex mulled over the focus of Dieter’s House. “Freighters and heavy shipping would be welcome across alliance space and to and from Sol,” he said.
“And the gates wouldn’t represent competition,” Renée added. “They would only speed the bargaining process by allowing individuals to immediately meet face to face.”
“True, but what about the rings?” Gino inquired.
“We can’t even ensure that we can connect a gate if the star isn’t represented on the dome’s overhead display,” Alex said, laughing.
Gino waved away Alex’s comment. He didn’t understand the technical challenge that was referenced. “Alex, Dieter thinks long term. His family has always been that way.”
“First, we have to successfully relocate a dome outside alliance space and connect the gates,” Alex said, enumerating his point with a digit in the air. “Second, we have to reengineer the ring concept.” Another digit joined the first. “The Messinants didn’t create the rings. The Colony did.” With another digit, he added, “Third, the rings handled small transports. They would probably accommodate about half a module of a class one freighter.”
“They might be small to start,” Gino allowed. “Then the SADEs would find a way to enlarge the rings. You know they would.”
“I can’t deny that the SADEs are intrigued by technological enigmas,” Alex responded. “But we’re not talking about the next few annuals. The time span would more likely be decades.”
Gino started to speak, but Alex held up a hand, saying, “Yes, I heard you. Dieter thinks long term. Then I suppose that the most important thing to Leader Gerhardt would be to keep him informed of Mickey’s progress with dome engineering so that he can plan his House’s future.”
“I think that goes for every world leader who chooses to take an active role in the conclave,” Gino emphasized.
“How much of the alliance already has implants?” Katrina inquired. Her House was responsible for the production of the tiny devices within the Confederation. They’d begun supplying implants to the burgeoning human worlds.
“Sol has them,” Renée replied. “A company produces them, and the medical community has the capability to install them.”
“Why Sol?” Katrina asked.
“My envoy to Sol from Omnia is Olawale Wombo,” Alex explained. “He was accompanied by SADEs and some top engineers. They found that Sol had made a vigorous transition from United Earth to a new representative organization, the Sol Enclave. Olawale made the decision to support the nascent government with Omnian technology.”
“Later, we discovered that we needed Earthers to support our efforts in alliance space,” Renée added. “They construct and crew the new carriers that lead the fight against the Colony.”
“Earthers are fighting the Colony?” Katrina asked in surprise.
“Not directly,” Renée clarified. “They crew the ships. The fighting is done primarily by the Resistance races.”
“I always feel like I’m many steps behind the two of you,” Gino lamented.
“There’s a reason that Julien isn’t here,” Alex said. “He’s orienting the SADEs who have accompanied the Leaders to our databases, and he’s educating them about Sol, Talus, and alliance space. You’ll have our entire sailing time to learn about our activities.”
“Talus?” Gino queried.
“I sent a squadron to the Talusians to invite them to the conclave,” Alex replied.
“Return to my question about implants in alliance space,” Katrina urged.
“Primarily the Pyreans, the Jatouche, the Sylians, and the Crocians have them,” Alex replied. “That’s four worlds out of hundreds.”
“Is that the work of Emile Billings, your biochemist?” Katrina asked.
“He leads the effort,” Alex replied, “but the SADEs have become an integral part of his work.”
“Then I need to acquire biochemists for my House,” Katrina mused.
“Or hire Emile,” Alex suggested.
“As an employee,” Katrina said hopefully.
“Your greed is showing, Katrina,” Renée said, with a gentle smile.
“Contractor,” Alex clarified. He’s already an employee of Omnia Ships, but I’m willing to loan out his services.”
“For a fee, probably,” Katrina clarified.
“Absolutely,” Renée replied, laughing.
Alex turned his attention to Gino. “What do you want from the conclave?” he asked.
“As a Leader or for the Confederation?” Gino queried.
“Both,” Alex replied.
“I know my House will be well served with the opening of new territories. Everyone needs improvement in infrastructure and environmental services,” Gino said. “For the Confederation, I want security.”
“Internal or external?” Renée asked. Her tone and her eyes were hard.
Katrina laid a hand on Gino’s leg, and he patted it.
“It’s a fair point,” Gino said. “The murder attempt against you has forced the Leaders to confront the issue that too many accidents have happened within families that changed successions. The corollary concern is that there’s the distinct possibility that other nefarious activities, besides murder, have been perpetrated by the Houses.”
“My brother was willing to strand the New Terrans, who rescued us and rebuilt the Rêveur, on Méridien to possess the liner,” Renée accused. “Nothing was ever done about that treachery.”
Alex wanted to calm Renée, but he recognized her mood. It had surfaced more frequently in the company of Confederation Leaders, whom she perceived misused the powers granted to them by their Houses.
“That was Mahima Ganesh’s time,” Gino replied defensively. “I’ve tried to lead by different principles.”
“And you have, Gino, which we appreciate,” Alex interjected.
“Gino, return to what concerns you for the Confederation’s outward security,” Alex requested.
Gino sighed. There were so many issues that plagued the Confederation. Worse, the Houses’ underlying problems continued to be aired during the continuing contacts with Alex and Renée.
“I truly don’t want to see another Nua’ll sphere. I don’t want to hear about another entity like Artifice cruelly dominating a wide swath of space, and I really don’t want to think of the Colony flooding through a gate that was recently initiated on Méridien,” Gino said.
Renée laughed harshly. “Gino, you’ve been living in a dream, a fantasy world. The Confederation chose to exist that way,” she said. “Dark travelers were launched from the Nua’ll sphere against Libre. Afterward, Méridien was to be the next target. Eventually, the entire Confederation would have succumbed. Artifice would have seen to that. As for the Colony, the race’s expansion is being halted. It’s only a matter of time before the insectoids are entirely eliminated.”
Gino’s eyes appealed to Alex, who said, “She’s right, Gino. The galaxy has its challenges. You either take them head-on, or they overtake you. There isn’t a middle lane.”
The discussion wound down, and Gino and Katrina were happy to make their exit.
Gino sent in reply.
When Katrina frowned, Gino sent,
Katrina muttered a surprised expletive.
* * * * *
Lenson’s lot in life had significantly improved. He no longer stood duty at the Triton console alone, and he had been elevated to supervisor.
During Lenson’s day shift, two Earthers, Layla and Derek, worked beside him, managing the Sylia and Norsitchia gates.
Even better for Lenson, he had an opportunity to spend more time with his love interest. Before the new gates were installed, he’d enjoyed evening conversations with Layla, and he’d hoped to see more of her. To his delight, he discovered his feelings were reciprocated.
One evening, Lenson had asked about the spelling of Layla’s name, and he learned the story of Sol’s underground music.
The formative United Earth had banned most music prior to the government grasping global power. Much of the earlier music was deemed subversive or reactionary.
Throughout the decades, old recording formats became obsolete and were replaced by newer and more data-dense formats.
With those changes, music aficionados were faced with a conundrum. They couldn’t take their aging devices to a company for transfer. Otherwise their precious songs would be confiscated, and they would be reported to the authorities.
To service the many people who desired to preserve the music passed to them by grandparents, parents, and friends, a new industry sprang up — underground transfer sites. A few individuals fell into UE traps that imitated the transfer sites. In time, the UE’s false operations failed. Word-of-mouth recommendations and passwords prevented people from falling prey to the decoys.
“My grandparents were fans of Earth’s music from the nineteen sixties and early seventies,” Layla explained one night to Lenson. “My parents received their recordings, and they had to transfer the data to hear many of the songs. One of the memorable tunes spoke of a woman by the name of Layla. It was only when my father mentioned the song to a transfer agent that he learned the name was spelled L-A-Y-L-A not L-A-I-L-A, as my parents had thought. When I was born, they gave me that name.”
“Do you have your parents’ music?” Lenson had asked.
“Certainly,” Layla had replied. “When the Sol Enclave lifted the music restrictions, I transferred the songs to the newest media, and I carry many of them in my implant.”
“I know tunes are traded openly now,” Lenson remarked, “and people find great caches of centuries-old music. It’s unfortunate that the stories of most of the originators are lost. Only what they wrote and performed remains.”
One early morning, Lenson, Layla, and Derek were on duty and listening to their implants. They were linked, and Layla was playing an entertaining set of tunes from a foursome considered to be in the style of a people’s group. The name of the foursome was lost. Aficionados thought them to have been The Mommies and The Daddies. Their harmony was engaging, and the operators enjoyed the music, while they waited for the gates to be engaged.
Lenson was aware that today the conclave delegates were to arrive, and he was informed that additional security and travelers were standing by. Layla and Derek had questioned him on who was arriving, and he hadn’t a definitive answer.
“That’s the problem,” Lenson said, as they’d climbed the ramp to relieve the previous operators. “We don’t know who and how many are coming.”
“How do we address them, if we don’t know their rank?” Derek had worried.
“I’ve learned a few techniques,” Lenson assured the nascent operators. “Let me speak to them first, regardless of the gate that’s activated.”
That morning the Rissness gate had lit, and Layla instantly curtailed her music transfer. The console operators detected the shimmering outlines of two Crocians and another individual.
Bortoth and Daktora appeared in the company of Minimalist.
“Lenson,” Bortoth roared.
“And companions,” Daktora added at the same decibel level.
Lenson frowned and asked, “Are congratulations in order?”
“We journey to Sol,” Daktora replied.
“The Norloth has appointed us as delegates,” Bortoth announced proudly.
Lenson did his best to bellow and thump his chest.
In turn, the Crocians’ twin bellows answered Lenson.
“Congratulations on your promotion, Supervisor Lenson,” Minimalist said, as the Crocians and he stepped off the platform and made their way to the ramp.
Bortoth and Daktora gently patted Lenson’s shoulder as they passed.
“Wow,” Layla breathed softly.
“Get prepared,” Lenson warned. “The whole day is going to be like this.”
The Rissness gate activated again, and the hazy figure had an odd shape.
Then Juliette appeared. The SADE cradled Oforum and Phette in each arm. The Pims were perched there to make it easier to journey through the many gates and past the many alliance citizens, who were much larger than them.
Juliette connected to everyone. Then she sent,
Lenson sent, dipping his head.
As Juliette made for the ramp, the tiny Pims preened at the civil treatment.
“From the largest to what must be the smallest of alliance sentients,” Derek commented. “That was eye-opening. When I asked to be trained as console operator, I thought most of this job would be rote operations, but it isn’t.”
“I thought the same thing,” Lenson said. “The arrival of dignitaries made me realize what this job is mainly about.”
“Which is what?” Layla prompted.
“Connecting worlds. Helping races meet and talk,” Lenson replied proudly.
Throughout the day, Lenson greeted alliance rulers, elected world leaders, and appointed dignitaries.
When Nemanous arrived via Norsitchia’s direct gate link, the minister greeted Lenson personally, as did the Sylian monarch, Talsoma, who appeared on Layla’s platform.
“Could she have a whiter coat of fur?” Layla gushed after Talsoma was escorted below by the waiting security forces.
“I liked the blue eyes,” Derek added. “They were piercing, like the blue ice of a berg.”
Two small figures arrived via Derek’s gate. Neither individual was recognized.
“Greetings, Earthers, I’m Tamtoma, eldest daughter of Talsoma.”
“Welcome, Your Highness, to Triton,” Lenson quickly returned.
“Thank you,” Tamtoma replied. “I’ve brought Senior Captain Gregich, who hasn’t used the gates before now. He’ll be the Packeo delegate to the conclave.”
Lenson had been coached by Jess about certain arrivals. Gregich was one. “Senior Captain Gregich, it’s an honor to greet you. Your race has endured great hardship on Quall, and yet your citizens persevere.”
“Your words are greatly appreciated, Supervisor Lenson,” Gregich said, having been whispered the name by Tamtoma.