by Ken Hansen
Ratan, sporting a pointed head and beard, sat in the black leather chair, still staring at Tomadus. “So you have the same dreams while you are awake that you do while you sleep?”
“It’s more complicated than that. The dreams are not identical, but they all depict the same world. Different stories, same general setting.”
“But that is no different than anyone else, except for the day dreaming, of course. And that could be explained by exhaustion.”
Tomadus exhaled deeply. “Do others dream of a world that is different than this one?
“I imagine we all wish for a better world from time to time, and that manifests itself in our dreams.”
“Who said it was better? It is just different. In fact, I’m not sure—it might be worse. There is great hatred there.”
“Whom do you hate?”
“Me? No. It is not me. I do not hate. At least, well, that’s not what I was talking about. I am chasing hatred.”
“Chasing hatred? Do you wish to hate?”
“No. No. I am chasing those who hate. I need to stop them before…”
“Before what?”
“I don’t know. That part remains unclear.”
“Perhaps the stress of your work bothers you. Tell me more about this feeling in your gut.”
“I’ve had it since I was a child,” Tomadus said. “It comes and goes. You probably would call it butterflies. However, this is much worse and feels like some creature is alive inside me. It usually occurs when I am most relaxed, not when I am nervous. It invades my thoughts, urges me to take actions against my interest.”
“I see. And what do you think this, uh, ‘creature,’ looks like? Is he in your dreams? Is he the hatred you seek?”
“No. No. The two are separate…and yet…connected somehow. I can’t explain it. I have no idea what the creature looks like. It is just a feeling deep inside.”
“Have you been examined by a physic-tech?”
Tomadus sighed. “Yes. Just two weeks ago. He found nothing wrong physically. Look, it is more than a feeling and it is more than a dream, do you understand?”
“But you just said it was just a feeling and you described your night terrors as dreams.”
“Yes, I know.” Tomadus leaned forward and stroked his forehead. “They are feelings and dreams, but so much more. If I could describe them to you, I would. You called it a creature.”
“No, you did,” the psyche-tech said.
“Fine. Have you ever felt like something is inside of you, something that is part of you but you cannot figure out how to control it? Something that is watching and judging your every move?”
“You mean guilt,” Ratan said.
“No. I know guilt. It’s more than that. It is a yearning. Often a feeling of…dread, of hope that will somehow be lost if I don’t listen, if I don’t do what is right. And then when I do, he goes to sleep, and I feel the warmth of his body curling through my belly, rising through my chest and into my heart.” Tomadus began to sweat. He looked down at his hands and then closed his eyes, sighed deeply and began again. “And the dreams—I can see them even as we sit here. I see them in my memory as if they were part of my own past. It’s getting so that I’m finding it difficult to tell the difference between them and my real memories.”
“Go on.”
Tomadus continued, “And that was when the dreams came only at night. Now, I sometimes just have new memories appear in my brain during the daytime at the oddest moments. The bright light always accompanies them. I don’t know if I can bear it any longer.”
Ratan began scribbling something on his pad. “Perhaps you need some rest and relaxation. A little separation from your daily troubles can help enormously. There is a quiet place here in Roma that I am considering for you. I will prescribe a medication that will help you sleep and even rest during the day.”
“Sleep? Rest? I have no time. What else do they do? Will I be able to focus when I am awake?”
“Ah, you will feel a little duller than normal, but we can adjust the dosage if necessary. You will be fine.”
“No. No drugs.” Tomadus stood up. “I’m sorry, but I’ve wasted your time. I must go.” Tomadus walked out of the room, out of the office building and onto Via Curiarum. If he’d said any more to the psyche-technologist, he might be committed to one of those derangement wards. He must find strength within himself, within his work.
He came to a communications pod already partially occupied by other cives who could easily overhear him if not engrossed in their own calls. That seemed to be the point of these pods—a deliberate theft of privacy. So be it. He placed a call to Stephanus. “Just checking on the network in North Aztalan. Have we received any more commitments?”
“You must have impressed them over there,” Stephanus said. “We now have twenty-five merchants ready to sell the product when ready.”
“Wonderful.”
“There has even been some movement to the south: we’ve received written requests from several prominent merchants asking you to visit them in the Aztec Empire. Our organization in the Three Empires and Roma has been growing as well—no doubt due to advance sheets on the products and your speech at the conference. But, of course, we already had a substantial presence here, so the growth is a little slower. Nevertheless, it is already helping current sales of our other products. I think we will have a very good year, even if we miss the target for the new product launch later this year.”
“Great news,” Tomadus said. “Thanks for taking charge during these last few weeks. I have had a tough go of it. Still trying to get my head straight.”
“No problem. You’ll need to pull it together pretty soon, though.”
Tomadus rested his forehead on his left palm. “Why? What’s happening?”
“I can’t hold off the First Consul’s technologists anymore. They’ve threatened to shut us down if you don’t turn over the plans or meet with them soon. I don’t know when that would be, but it would be a disaster when we are trying to push this thing forward.”
“You get anything more on their intentions?”
“Nope. They are more closed mouth than we are. Something about maintaining the stability of Roma and the Three Empires. Can’t seem to get any more details out of them.”
Tomadus frowned. “You see any alternatives?”
“None.”
“Nor do I.”
Chapter 22
“I am sorry, Civis Tomadus, but there was nothing I could do.” First Consul Khansensius shook his head slowly. “I received first class requests from the offices of both emperors. If you had not decided to come to this meeting on your own, I’m afraid I would have had to send my agents to collect you. These generals wish to speak with you and convince you to cooperate. Despite my pleas—I have told them to give you a little time to assist us—they lack patience and press for results. I had no choice.”
“This is Roma. Am I not a Romanus citizen? Have I no Romanus rights?”
“Of course, you have rights.” The First Consul flashed his calming smile. “Still, you are wise enough to understand the difference between rights in theory and practice, no? Do not confuse the two, amicus meus, whether you speak of yourself or our country. We both see Roma as the magnificent independent nation it still is—the great grandchild of our ancient Romanus and Mongol forbearers who once nearly ruled the world, albeit almost a millennium apart. You can take pride in that, as do I. But under current conditions, we are both greater and lesser than that vision, are we not?”
Tomadus nodded.
First Consul Khansensius went on, “Roma is the arbiter of the world, or at least the Islamic empires. We maintain this through our neutrality. We have no religion, so we need not take sides in the great debates and conflicts between Sunnis, Shiites and Mahdians, or even the Juteslams, do we? We can even moderate problems involving the Jewish communities in Al-Andalus and Palestine, though we find that more difficult in Tetepe, of course. This arbiter status makes us a
great nation and gives us considerable power. But it also imposes on us certain…realities.”
“Realities?”
“We obviously cannot take sides, except at the request of our combined sponsors. Without a standing army, if we tried to separate ourselves from the Three Empires, we would be crushed. They permit us to serve as their arbiter because they need us to help them avoid the destructive wars and rebellions that plagued them for centuries. But make no mistake: we are neither their masters nor their equals, but their servants.”
“Servants?” Tomadus said.
“Yes,” said the First Consul. “Of course, we have the legal right to act independently, yet we always choose to exercise our independence by acting at their joint behest. The only time we truly act on our own is to resolve their disputes. And we do this diplomatically and without bias toward any empire. Any bias would condemn us all to an ignominious end. And so, amicus meus, when I get a call from an emperor or his staff, I listen. When I get a call from two emperors, I jump. When I get a call from all three, I prostrate myself before them and do as they please.”
Tomadus closed his eyes and nodded slowly. His teachers had not quite taught him this, but he knew there was some truth to it.
The First Consul gently placed his hand on Tomadus’s shoulder and spoke softly, “So have you the rights of a Romanus citizen? Of course. You have the right to market your invention under the Technologists Act of 1835. Even though the Romanus government will not stop you, will such laws protect you or your company against the might of the Three Empires? You know my hands are tied. I would personally love to help you all I can, but I am powerless.”
Crossing his arms, Tomadus blinked a few times. What part of this impassioned speech was real and what part dispensed to advance the First Consul’s political aims? He understood the reality better than the First Consul thought. Still, he was not so sure the First Consul was quite as powerless as he let on. The Three Empires relied on Roma not only as their arbiter in dispute among themselves but also as their proxy in conflicts around the globe. They would not cross the First Consul lightly. And Tomadus’s invention should pose only a minor issue for them. Nevertheless, the First Consul impressed him with his candidness. Perhaps Tomadus needed to look at the situation and his relationship with the First Consul in a new light. “Your insights are helpful, First Consul. Tell me, before the generals arrive, what is your take on the situation in Tetepe?”
“Ah yes, I have heard that you visited there recently. Tell me what you think.”
“How did you hear that?” Tomadus asked with a bit too much suspicion in his voice.
“We have paid attention to your movements, for your own protection, of course. A few inquiries with our friends there and we located you fairly quickly. What impressions did you draw?”
Tomadus drew his hands together, interlacing his fingers. Be careful. Don’t betray any sympathies. To him this must only be business. “My impression, Your Eminence, was that it will be a very difficult place to market my products any time soon. I think the Demoseps will continue to fight for their freedom from the Juteslams for a very long time, and the Juteslams seem unlikely to relent.”
“You see the Demoseps as freedom fighters, then, not as shaitaanists fighting a losing rebellion as they terrorize the good people of New Jutland?”
Tomadus stiffened as the hairs on the back of his neck pricked up. “They are what they are—I do not wish to label them. I tried to talk one of the Demoseps into ending any shaitaanist activity. I doubt I made much of a dent, though.”
“I see,” said the First Consul.
“Do you ever wonder if it will end? This bloodletting has gone on for fifty years now, with only intermittent stoppages as the sides take some time to lick their wounds. But the death and destruction always rears up again in waves. I thought since I was there I would see if I could do any good and improve business at the same time.”
The First Consul looked right into Tomadus eyes. “The situation remains very…complicated, Civis Tomadus, very complicated, indeed. I have some sympathy for the Tetepian people myself. You may be aware that I came from humble means and a war-torn area of Roma as a child. Like my relatives, most of these unfortunates are good people at the mercy of history. However, a small, violent group can ruin it for the rest. The only real stability is provided by the Juteslams, and, of course, we and the Three Empires would like the area to remain relatively stable.”
“Do you think the last fifty years have been stable?”
“Relatively stable, Tomadus, relatively. A little instability helps us keep Tetepe from joining with the Aztecs and ultimately becoming a force against us. We do not want them to exploit their significant natural resources in ways that could harm Roma and the Three Empires, do we?”
“I see what you mean.” The strategic interests of the Three Empires trumps all.
The First Consul continued, “And democracy, well, that is a dangerous and destabilizing path for any region, no? We must contain that ideology, if not destroy it altogether. Nevertheless, total instability in the region could impact larger global interests. Many powerful nations need access to those resources, you know. I do respect the Tetepians for their courage and stubborn refusal to accept the supremacy of others. But in the end, their efforts are doomed to failure.”
“Do you think there is any chance we could bring peace to the region?” Tomadus asked.
“What do you mean, we? I understand the Tetepians rejected the peace accord Skjöldr offered. It was brokered by my administration. What hope is there for a lasting peace after that?”
Tomadus stared at the First Consul’s eyes. Do I leap? He seems to trust me, but he cannot openly agree. Still, he must see the truth. “The Demoseps viewed that accord essentially as a proposal for their surrender—not as a peace among equals.”
The First Consul put the tips of his fingers together and stared until Tomadus looked down and began fidgeting. “Perhaps,” the First Consul said, “that may be the perception of the Demoseps. But perception is everything in politics, amicus meus. And the perception of the world today is that Skjöldr seeks an honorable peace while the irrational and violent Demoseps refuse it.”
“What if…what if behind the scenes, Roma and the Three Empires pushed Skjöldr a bit to become a little more reasonable?”
“I’m afraid that is not possible under current circumstances. However, I see our generals have arrived.” The First Consul rose as he nodded to the glass window of the meeting room door. “Let us see what they think is possible.”
The First Consul’s assistant was the first through the door. “First Consul Khansensius, Civis Tomadus, I present to you General Faisil of the Sunni Muslim Empire and General Khameni of the Shiite Muslim Empire.” The two generals in dress uniforms placed their right hands on their chests and bowed slightly in the direction of the First Consul and Tomadus, who then returned the greeting.
“Welcome, sirs. It is an honor to meet with you here,” the First Consul said, demonstrating a genuine tone of gratitude. “Please, have a seat at our table. Can I get you something to drink or eat after your long journeys?”
“No thank you,” replied General Faisil. “We have little time. We would like to get straight down to this business.”
“Of course, of course,” said the First Consul. “I was just discussing the matter with Civis Tomadus, here. He has recently returned from North Aztalan on a business trip for his company. He is concerned about the unrest in Tetepe.”
“I…I am merely interested in opening new markets there,” Tomadus interjected. “Prospects are not good with this ongoing conflict. Now that the peace accord has been rejected, I fear there is little hope for a stable business environment there unless there is some way we could bring all parties back to the negotiating table. I would be willing to meet with Skjöldr personally to discuss it, if that could be arranged.”
The two generals sat back. Faisil crossed his arms; Khameni put the palms of his ha
nds together.
Tomadus studied the two men. Was that amusement in their eyes? They’re wondering what this tech-merchant thinks he is doing poking his head into diplomatic matters better left to generals, kings and emperors.
General Faisal said, “Do not make the mistake many people do.”
“What is that?”
“They assume the Three Empires support the Juteslams simply because they are Muslims. As you know, the Three Empires have their own religious differences and Roma has played an important role in helping us address those issues so we can remain united on other issues around the globe. But, doctrinally, we three empires are not far apart in our beliefs when compared with the Juteslams.”
“You are all Muslims, no?” Tomadus asked.
“Yes, but because of their original isolation and Viking past, the Juteslams maintain a perverted view of Islam and the Qur’an. They drink alcohol and smoke tobacco like barbarians. They create craven images of the Prophet. They still worship their great ancestors, though they call it honoring their history. They are self-absorbed. Although they reflect many of the components of our religion and we respect that they found Allah in their isolation, they are no real kin to us. So do not assume that any support we may give them is because of their religion. That similarity may help soothe some of our citizens, but it gives others quite a little heartburn.”
Tomadus nodded. “I see. Thank you for helping me understand that better, General.”
“You are welcome. Now, please help us understand why there has been no progress on the transfer of your technology to Romanus government technologists. The First Consul had assured us of the transfer quite some time ago.”
“I apologize,” said Tomadus, “but I was in North Aztalan for some time and have had some medical difficulties since I have returned.”
General Faisal leaned toward Tomadus, his broad shoulders seemingly blocking all of the natural light from Tomadus. “Well then, can we assume the schematics and detailed directions will be turned over to the Imperium’s technologists this week?”