Human, page 4
part #1 of Humanity Ascendant Series
“You’re daft as a cabbage, Hendy.” He shook his head sadly. “Don’t you realize the trouble we’re in for impersonating a Quailu? They’ll probably tack on an extra death-penalty for that. You don’t want to be shot twice, do you?”
“Is it just me,” Hendu asked, “or is the air traffic starting to divert from our path?”
Noadu shrugged. “If you say so. I never get to sit in the front, so I couldn’t say.”
“You scared ‘em good, Eth.” The pilot grinned over at him. “Now we just need to figure out how to get aboard the Coronado without drawing attention. This DSO cruiser doesn’t much look like our old shuttle and we don’t have time for Noa to reprogram its nanites.”
“Screw it,” Ethdu blurted out before he even realized he’d come to a decision. “We’ll just fly right into the aft cargo bay. I like this little flying turd. I’m gonna keep it.”
The other two men shared a concerned look.
“Look, Eth,” Noadu began reasonably, “we just got out of the shit. No reason to jump right back into it…”
“You got proof they had Human genomes in storage?” Ethdu interrupted.
“Well, yeah, but… Oh!”
“’Oh’ is right.” Ethdu confirmed, face grim. “Sure, they’ll file an official complaint with Throne World over our incursion, but we have proof they’re violating the Meleke Company’s charter by holding unauthorized genomes.”
“Or the Meleke Company violated it themselves,” Noadu suggested, “by selling them Human sequences on the sly.”
“Either way, they can’t afford to bring the complaint to adjudication without exposing themselves…”
“And not in a good way,” Noadu interjected with a grin.
“…so they’ll end up having to withdraw the complaint, which will cost them favors at court,” Ethdu finished. “So, not only have we stolen what we came for, but we’ve managed to weaken the Chironians and, unless I’m mistaken, bolster the prestige of our own lord as a bonus.”
“Might be a half-assed idea but it sure beats trying to jump the gap to the Coronado . Hard to look nonchalant while you’re abandoning a stolen vehicle.” Noadu gave him a thump on the shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got this, Boss. Maybe I’ll head back and let the gang in on the plan.”
The pilot glanced back at Noadu as he left. “You know he’s probably planning to mention folks exposing themselves,” he said as he looked back at his instruments.
Ethdu nodded. “And he’ll make sure he’s looking at Oliv when he does.” He watched Noadu’s departing back.
“She certainly likes the direct approach,” the pilot agreed.
The Meleke Company owned the rights to all wardu-class genomes by imperial charter. Slaves emerged from the maturation chambers already sterile. Nature would not get in the way of quarterly profits.
Consequentially, sex among the wardu class was no biggie.
With no risk of pregnancy, it came to be looked upon more as interpersonal recreation. Emotional attachments still formed, but they tended to shift frequently.
“Let’s just hope they wait till we get off this crate first,” Ethdu said, forcing a chuckle.
Some things are best left unseen, especially when your own genome is designed to prevent fraternization…
Bottom of a New Heap
The Elector
H e was a good unit leader,” Mishak said. He stood up from the governor’s throne and walked down to where Ethdu stood, placing a hand on the Human’s shoulder, pretending not to notice the mild surprise in his mind. Until now, Abdu had always been the primary contact with the very hands-on Mishak.
He liked to keep a very close circle on his tech-espionage operations; often discussing target selection and operational considerations with the Human team leaders and only a limited group of intelligence specialists from his family’s military.
“He was the best of my wardu fighters. When he said something could be done, I listened and I made sure he got the chance to prove himself right.” Mishak took his hand from Ethdu’s shoulder, gesturing that they should move toward the terrace door.
He led the way out of the governor’s throne room and into the warm sunlight of a spring afternoon. The terrace was as large as the throne room but it ended abruptly with a three-hundred-fifty-story drop. The Quailu considered railings to be an offense to natural selection.
A sunken, circular gathering-space had a fire-pit burning in the center, the obligatory Quailu hearth that one could find in any noble’s hall.
Mishak waved away the Human attendants and sat facing the fire, gesturing for Ethdu to join him.
It was unusual, to say the least, for a Quailu to join a wardu at hearth, especially for the governor of a planet and the son of Sandrak, ruler of 19 systems and an elector in the Holy Quailu Empire. As the eldest son, Mishak would inherit his father’s holdings as well as his right to vote on the next emperor.
Mishak knew it was odd, but he felt comfortable among his subjects, even those who hated him, because they couldn’t sense his moods. He also envied his off-world raiders, Humans like Abdu and his young protégé, who now sat across from him. They had a swaggering confidence, despite their slave status, and they didn’t care what others thought of them.
He envied them and so he sought their company, reveling in any hint of approval. He authorized them for advanced training modules in tactics, strategy and technology and, though he’d originally done it to please Abdu, he had come to appreciate the differences it made in their performance. Their operations in neighboring systems had advanced the state of Kish’s economy by leaps and bounds, bringing back technology and processes researched by rival lords.
Kish’s position, at the far end of an isolated corner of Sandrak’s holdings, meant they were surrounded on almost all sides by unfriendly noble houses. Mishak had turned that to an advantage by robbing them at every opportunity, though his noble father sneered at his ‘brigandage’.
Mishak realized he was clenching his fists. It had been a long time since he’d slept fully and his emotions were getting the better of him.
The Quailu could rest their minds by alternating hemispheres. One side of their brain could be asleep while the other remained active. It wasn’t a good idea where detailed analytical thought was required but it had given his species an evolutionary advantage and it still had its uses.
He forced his hands open and waved to the lone Human guarding a door to one of the terrace waiting rooms.
The rest of Ethdu’s team filed in and Mishak casually gestured to the seating around the fire. He reached into his tunic and drew out a long strip of fermented bison fat, one of Kish’s most popular exports. He took a bite of the intoxicant and handed it to Olivdu as she sat.
“So,” he began as the Humans settled in, “I’ve seen the holo of your report. You found proof of Human genomes on Chiron?” He looked first at Noadu, then to Ethdu, showing that he knew who had actually found the data.
Ethdu nodded. “That’s right. Noa found the files while pursuing our main objective.”
“Excellent!” Mishak said warmly. He was gratified to see this new team leader already felt comfortable using diminutive names for his people in front of their lord. It had taken Ab more than a year to get there. Legally, they could be terminated for failing to use the ‘du’ suffix. It was a mark of their trust that they would speak so freely in front of him.
Many other Quailu lords would have killed them all on the spot.
He turned to Noa. “Do you think they’re aware of what you found?”
Noa shook his head. “No, Lord. They’d have to compare the transit keys between the data itself and the node that accessed it to realize it even happened. We fried that node when we set off the stun grenades. They’re not hardened against combat conditions.”
Mishak leaned forward. “And none of you have talked about this to anyone outside your team?”
“No, Lord,” Eth insisted. “We kept to ourselves while aboard the Coronado , as usual, and came straight here.”
“And not a word to each other while in transit,” Noa added, nodding at Eth. “Eth explained, during our flight out of Chironian atmo, how this can hurt the Chironians at court. After that, we kept our pie-holes shut.”
Mishak nodded approvingly. “It’s even better than you think,” he told them.
Again, few Quailu lords would condescend to explain the implications but he knew his operatives worked best when they were well-informed.
“You weren’t the only visitors to Chiron,” he hinted. “Hendrikwilu of Gliese, Selatwilu of Irridani, Mosettawilu of Tau Ceti and a collection of one-system minor representatives were all there during your shenanigans.”
He leaned back, enjoying their astonishment. Eth, however, was looking at him with a keen expression.
“So,” the Human leader mused, “they’ve finally started to pull a coalition together?”
“Coalition,” Mishak confirmed. “The pile of flaming turds that has haunted me since I came out here fifteen years ago. A coalition of small and minor houses, intent on taking Kish and capturing the only son and heir to Sandrakwilu. All they need is for someone to have the will to lead it and a suitable inciting incident to mobilize it.
“By now, they’re drafting the necessary forms for transmission to Throne World. I expect the imperial demand for my response within the week.”
Eth laughed. “We can safely assume that Chiron, as the strongest partner, will be the coalition leader, yes?”
Mishak grinned back, though the gesture lost something on his less-mobile, Quailu face. “You can also safely assume that I will choose direct, un-mediated negotiation with Chiron. Your evidence,” he pointed to Noa, “would cause the Meleke Company to cut them off and their economy is heavily dependent on their wardu class.”
“So when the coalition leader renounces their grievance…” Eth paused to take a bite of the fermented fat, “…the coalition is dissolved, ending the threat for the next decade and seriously damaging their credibility at court.”
“While burnishing my own family’s reputation,” Mishak added, leaning back into the cushions. “I’m trying to find the negatives in this – the balancing kick in the gonads that the Universe usually insists on adding in – but I’m not seeing it.”
A shadow passed. He frowned up at an opulent shuttlecraft. Just as it disappeared past the parapet of his rooftop landing pad, he saw the crossed encryption keys emblazoned on the underside of the wings.
The sigil of his great house. There’s the kick.
He stifled the curse that came to mind, sighing in nervous frustration. He was glad the Humans around him couldn’t feel his apprehension. He sat up.
“Look, this was nearly an absolute disaster with you stirring up a coalition but it was my decision to run the risk and it would have been my fault alone. You turned it into a huge victory for my house and I won’t be forgetting that.”
He looked over at the sound of approaching feet. A page came up to him, eyes wide with the enormity of the moment.
“Your lord-father, sire,” he said hoarsely. “He wishes to meet you in your throne room.”
Mishak stood. “I will think of some way to thank you all properly,” he told them. He followed the page back to his official audience chamber.
What in all seven hells is the old bastard doing here? Mishak was more than content to sit here in obscurity while he waited for Sandrak to show a little good sense and just die already. He couldn’t remember a single encounter with his father that didn’t provide less pleasure than having his groin ravaged by wild canines.
Of course, he thought as he walked into the large room, the old hump would be sitting on my throne. It was a standard right of any overlord when visiting one of his retainers, but Sandrak always managed to convey an element of insult with the gesture.
At least Mishak had been out on the terrace, saving himself the need to step down for his father.
He came to the base of the steps, looked up at his father and gave him a formal bow. “My Lord, to what do I owe this great honor?”
“Shut your mouth,” Sandrak snapped. “Your job is to listen, not to talk.” He waved the Human attendants out of the room, his anger at their presence clearly open to Mishak. “I have heard of your mess on Chiron. I left you out here to limit the harm you can do to our family and now I learn from sources on Gliese that you’ve stirred up a coalition against us with your petty thievery.”
Usually, this would be the point where Mishak would wilt in shame, confused, hurt and angry all at once and Sandrak would sense it and revel in the power it gave him over his son. There was no concealing a Quailu’s disdain for another of his own species. It tended to form a vicious feedback loop.
Dueling, understandably, was one of the leading causes of death among their race.
This time it was different and Mishak held his tongue, enjoying this new feeling of being right while his father was spectacularly wrong. He knew who he owed for this situation and he vowed anew to find a way to thank them properly.
Sandrak’s eye ridges lowered in the middle. He could feel that his son was not properly cowed by his outburst and it disturbed him. “Perhaps you’re not taking this seriously?” he suggested darkly. “Do you understand what a coalition means at a time like this?”
What does he mean by ‘a time like this’? Mishak wondered. “I know what a coalition is, Father; it’s a threat I’ve lived under since arriving out here. Perhaps you don’t understand how useful it can be to trigger a coalition when you possess enough evidence to squash it in preliminary registration.”
Sandrak leaned so far forward, he nearly fell from the throne. This was unprecedented. Never before had Mishak responded in such a fashion. “What are you talking about?” he demanded. “Just what evidence do you have?”
Mishak re-opened the holo report he’d been reviewing with Eth earlier. He brought up the genomic data and slid the image over to face his father. “The Chironians would undoubtedly be the leader of any coalition against us,” he said mildly, “and here you see evidence that they’ve violated the Meleke charter, section five, sub-section twenty-three, if I’m not mistaken.”
He was tempted to continue, but it was best to show Sandrak he understood the implications by leaving them unsaid. To lay them out explicitly would imply that Mishak thought he’d been particularly clever. Far better to act as though the subsequent chain of reasoning was completely obvious.
Sandrak scanned the data before waving it aside. There was a new look in his eyes and a feeling Mishak couldn’t quite identify emanated from the old goat.
“Direct negotiation?” he asked.
Mishak offered a negligent gesture, as if to suggest the question need not even be asked. “Un-mediated,” he said.
Sandrak drew back in surprise. “But we can crush the Chironian economy completely if a mediator sees the evidence,” he protested.
“Their products don’t compete with ours,” Mishak replied, “and the longer we can keep this from involving the Meleke Company, the longer we’ll be able to exert leverage over Chiron.”
Surprise. Consideration.
Mishak frowned. There it was again. He was picking up some strange feelings from the old meat-bag but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Now amusement.
Mishak’s fists were clenched again. He didn’t care for this mockery, especially now that he’d finally gotten the better of the great Sandrakwilu. He’d…
“It would seem you’ve done well, son,” Sandrak grudged. He held up a warding hand. “I know, I know… I’m as surprised as you are.”
He stood, coming down to stand near his son, something Mishak would never have expected. “And the timing couldn’t have been better. You’ve heard about the emperor’s meddling ways?”
“Who hasn’t?”
“Well, it’s damaged his authority considerably. Throughout the empire, dodgy claims and old grudges are being dragged out for a fresh airing and we’ve got our fair share of enemies. We didn’t get to be one of the largest houses by our good looks alone.”
“Then we’ll be fighting soon?”
“Very soon,” Sandrak confirmed. “I thought I’d come here and fix your mistakes, allowing me to draw off most of your military forces for use in our higher-value systems.”
“And now?”
That odd new feeling again.
“And now I think I’ll be taking you as well. Our holdings can be split in two if someone takes the Heiropolis system. If that happens, I’ll need someone with sense in the smaller half to watch over our holdings.”
He held up his hand again. “That someone is your uncle, but I want you to attach your forces to his and learn all you can.”
“We’re at half strength as it is,” Mishak reminded him. “We can barely leave orbit right now and I’d need to get updated configurations if I want those ships to be combat effective.”
Annoyance .
“I’ll have the latest ship configurations transferred from the data banks on my shuttle. Start re-growing your fleet immediately. We can worry about crew numbers while the ships update.”
“I can crew my ships as soon as they’re ready, if you give me a free hand.”
His father looked at him for a few moments. “What do you have in mind?”
“My native forces have been remarkably effective in local skirmishes. It was one of my Humans that found our dirt on the Chironians. I’d like to recruit and train them for duty on our ships.”
“Wardu serving with our house military?” Sandrak exploded. “If we field slave-troops against our enemies, we’d be the laughing stock of the entire empire!”
“Which is why we’ll give mushkenu status to those who serve,” Mishak replied calmly, forcing his mind to ignore the astonishment he should be feeling at his own outrageous suggestion.
Resignation, reluctant acceptance.
“It’s a dangerous precedent,” the old bastard grumbled. “Once you create the first free Human, you open the floodgates. One of our ancestors did that, eight thousand years ago, and a handful of mushkenu had their sterilization reversed. A century later, they were breeding free Humans like a plague. We had to ship them off to a new colony just to halt the spread.”
