Twilight Serenade, page 31
part #6 of Earth Song Series
“Son of a bitch,” Minu silently cursed, her hands balled into painful fists.
The more she tried to tear herself away from the thought, the more it kept pulling her back. She’d seen drawings in Bellatrix’s planetary archives. One was from the Plateau Tribe’s ancestors. A man named Victor witnessed the portal being delivered by an alien. The drawing was in ink and very old, but the alien in it looked very much like P’ing. The other was a digital image from a security camera belonging to the ancestors of the Summit Tribe. The digital image was less detailed than the drawing, but there was no question the alien in it was a Tog, perhaps the same one.
Minu didn’t think she’d ever been so frustrated, and that made her mad. Usually, when she was angry, she wanted to break things. She heard a crunch and looked down in surprise at her right hand which she had used to crush the ornate moliplas handhold on the door. “Son of a bitch.”
“Okay,” Cherise said from the other side of the car. Minu realized that everyone was crowded on the far side of the aerocar. P’ing-so had moved to the forward compartment.
Cherise came and sat next to her, concern etched on her face. They’d been together from the beginning. They’d bled together, cried together, and buried friends together. When Cherise had broken under pressure, before Minu was named First, it had been hard, but Minu had still turned to her and named her commander of the Logistics branch, one of her Legates. She trusted Cherise more than any woman, except perhaps her daughter.
“Talk to me.”
“This isn’t the time,” Minu said darkly.
“Minu, you’ve planned for this moment for years, probably since the Rasa Vendetta. When you first tried to get the Council to agree, after P’ing told you we owed them nothing, and the Council said no, I remember the profound disappointment you felt.”
She put a hand on Minu’s thigh, the touch meaning more than could be conveyed in minutes of talking. She leaned closer.
“You’re here now, at the culmination of all your plans, and you’re madder than I’ve seen you in… forever! Talk to me, sister.”
Minu sighed and hugged her friend, putting her head on Cherise’s shoulder. “It’s all a lie.”
“What? I don’t understand. The ritual before the Council?”
Minu looked at them, before she spoke. “P’ing told me the day hse came to Bellatrix over 100 years ago was the first time any Tog had ever seen a human being.”
There was stunned silence as the car flew on for an entire minute. Everyone except Selain stared at her, completely dumbfounded.
“What?” Gregg asked and smiled. Minu stared at him and his smile died. “You’re serious?”
“As a fucking heart attack.”
Bjorn’s jaw muscles clenched, his eyes grew wide in surprise and confusion, and he scratched his chin absently. It was the most lucidity she’d seen in him in some time. The rest looked disgusted and disbelieving.
“Interesting,” Lilith said.
“I want you to understand,” Minu said, “I think a lot more than our freedom is about to happen. Before we left, Var’at sent me a message. He wished me good luck in the ritual. He said it was a transformative moment for the Rasa. Initially, I blamed the translator, now I’m not so sure.”
“Awakening,” Ken said. “It’s such a loaded word.”
“It’s not a coincidence,” Dram said. “Why else would they tell us now?”
The term that had concerned Minu the most over the last several years was ‘awakening’. She’d encountered a wall at every attempt to get information from any species she’d encountered, from the Tog to the Rasa and even the outlaw Squeen. None of them would share critical information, and it was always because of the Awakening.
Ken was the youngest of the Council members, so it was ironic that he was the one who summed up everything in one sentence.
“I feel like we’ve been living in a dream, and we’re about to be rudely woken up.”
As the vehicle fell back into a tense silence, Bjorn took out his tablet and began writing a program.
* * *
The aerocar descended out of the high-level traffic as they neared the center of the city. The center was a restricted zone that required them to pass through scanners before entering. Minu came out of her reverie as they passed under the scanning devices. Massive, flying crab-bots floated nearby, the beamcasters on their dualloy carapaces ready. They were instruments of death, relic war machines from a bygone era. Open-topped aerocars flanked the bots, their passenger compartments full of soldiers from various species in combat suits.
The Agreements of Concordia spoke of each species sending ‘such military as is necessary and appropriate to securing the freedom of the body politic.’ Minu remembered being struck by the vague and unusual wording of that document.
Once inside the central cordon, they were only a few minutes from their destination. Already, the skyline was dominated by the huge moliplas and dualloy dome that was two kilometers high and three kilometers wide. It was opaque and slightly reflective, shimmering in the morning sun. No human had ever set foot inside.
Guarding the dome’s perimeter were 19 one-kilometer-tall obelisks. Cut from a single piece of obsidian, they were spaced equally every half kilometer, except for a gap where there was a massive cathedral-like entrance.
Minu tried to figure out the significance of the obelisks but couldn’t come to any definitive conclusion. Her best guess was that there was one for each of the Concordia’s founding species. Twenty avenues entered the central cordon, one leading to each obelisk and a wider one leading to the entrance. They headed for one of the obelisks near the entrance.
“Maybe we should call this off,” Gregg said suddenly. Minu glared at him.
“Someone had to say it, damn it! We’re in a difficult place, you more than any of us. Do you really want to go in front of the whole galaxy right now?”
“He has a point,” Dram said gently. Aaron sat with their daughter in his arms and observed her. The baby was almost asleep, lulled into dreamland by the gentle movements of the aerocar.
“Maybe you should wait,” Lilith said. Minu looked at Jasmine, the only one she’d expected to say something who hadn’t.
“I don’t know,” the woman admitted. “Maybe it’s all part of the game.”
“What do you mean?” Minu asked.
“Dropping something like that on you, just before your freedom ritual, or whatever this is. Maybe it’s to scare you off, to test your metal?”
“You think the Tog lied to her?” Gregg asked. Jasmine shrugged.
“Remember the Trials?” Jasmine asked. Everyone nodded, even Minu.
“What happens if we don’t go through with this?” Cherise asked.
“I don’t know,” Minu said. “There are proscribed periods that you must wait after you apply, before you will be seen. But I didn’t see anything about a species backing out of the Awakening ritual. I do know that P’ing waited until the last second to drop this on me, on us. Hse could have mentioned it over a year ago and decided not to. For the life of me, I don’t know why.”
They continued in silence as the aerocar finished its approach and landed. A pair of Tog and a squad of Beezer in ceremonial military garb met them, opening the aerocar’s doors wide, then standing aside.
Minu looked at them, then took a deep breath. If she’d never read about a client species getting cold feet, it likely had never happened. Did she want to set that kind of precedent?
“We can do this,” she said with the resolve anyone who knew her would recognize. Everyone nodded. The decision was made; there was no going back.
* * *
The pyramids were mostly unused except as meeting rooms and quarters for the ceremonial guards. Minu and her entourage were escorted down a spiraling tunnel, then shown into a large, square meeting room that took up most of that level of the obelisk. P’ing-so must have taken a different route, because hse was waiting for them.
“Imperator Groves,” hse said, “as the designated representative of your species, you will be the only speaker for humanity.”
“I understand, master.”
“You need to get used to not saying that,” hse reminded her. “You know the lines?”
Minu nodded.
“Your fellow leaders and an honor guard are allowed by Concordian tradition.” Hse held up a tablet showing the layout of the grand audience chamber. “They will flank your entrance. There is not much business today. A senior species will announce they are adopting a young species. And the call to order will be made for an old species that has retreated and is no longer in contact. They will be called continually for a century, and if they don’t respond, they will be withdrawn from the rolls.”
Minu filed that information away as she examined the maps and made additional mental notes. Everyone examined their uniforms and mentally prepared themselves for the biggest event in human history since Earth was destroyed. The event would be broadcast live on Bellatrix.
“It is nearly time,” a voice announced over a PA system.
P’ing-so moved over to the door and bowed. “Are you ready, Imperator?”
“Ready?” she asked as a chill ran up her spine. “I’m prepared, is that good enough?”
“That’s all any young species can be.”
They filed out and rode a large drop tube down to the base of the obelisk, then slightly below ground. A short corridor led to a massively armored door. It appeared out of place, as if it were designed to keep people out of the Council chamber. Heavily armed people guarded the doors. A pair of armed crab bots waited, rising up on their legs at the party’s approach.
“Who approaches the Concordian seat?” asked a voice in one of the older script languages. It was accompanied by a display across the machine’s carapace. To her surprise, Minu found she could read the written script, and understand the spoked words, as well!
“We, the Tog,” P’ing-so said and gestured in hser native language, “are among the higher order and demand entrance.”
“You are granted entrance,” the machine replied, then pointed at Minu. “This being is not recognized.”
“I am Minu Groves, representing humanity, clients of the Tog. I come to be recognized.”
The bot hesitated. Minu had no reason to be nervous, until she saw P’ing-so’s movement. Hse reached casually for hser belt where a tablet was hooked. It appeared to be active, and hser finger was resting just above an icon.
Time ticked by, and the bot sat motionless, as if they’d never approached. Deep inside its shielded brain, orders were being processed. Finally, it spoke. “The Tog representative will stand by.”
“Is this normal?” Minu asked.
“There is nothing to concern you,” P’ing-so said.
Minu considered herself an expert on Tog mannerisms. She liked to say it was an easy job, because there weren’t very many of them. In most cases, it was like judging the mood of a statue. If a Tog was upset, it would tell you. Or it wouldn’t. She’d only seen them agitated a few times in her years of dealing with them. P’ing-so wasn’t agitated, he was calm. Hse was completely still, frozen. Was this how a Tog showed it was terrified?
Minu thought about what this would mean for a species like theirs. Like humans, their homeworld had species that were not only stronger, but had hunted them in the past. They were almost grazing herbivores, whereas humans were hunters and gatherers. When a hunter was scared or ready to pounce, it twitched, paced, or made noise. When an herbivore was in danger, it froze. Oh shit, she thought.
Minu decided to break the protocol that called for her to wait quietly until she was summoned. “Hey Gregg,” she said.
“Yes, boss?”
“Remember the Rasa Vendetta?”
He was instantly alert. “Sure.”
“Remember that pickle we were in inside the Chosen compound?”
He nodded.
“Good times,” she said, and turned around.
Behind her, Gregg caught Dram’s eye. The big man cocked his head. Gregg stretched his back, and when he returned to rest, his hand landed on his holstered beamcaster pistol. It was a casual motion that no one would mistake for hostility, but every combat trained human there understood. Minu didn’t look; that would have been dangerous. But she could sense the energy building. Behind her was a group of humans, trained to kill, their skills honed over a lifetime of combat, and they were all set on a hair trigger. One word from their leader, and they’d unleash death and destruction, regardless of the consequences.
A small door inset in a huge one opened. Minu hadn’t even noticed it. A huge centipede with a tentacled clam riding on its back came through it. Minu tried not to gawk, but it was the first time she’d seen a Goydook in person.
It stopped just through the doorway, long body turning in a semicircle, tiny legs moving rhythmically. The shell of the clam opened slightly, and a multitude of cilia with eyes on them emerged. Half fixed on Minu, the other half on P’ing-so, then it started making clicking and bubbling sounds that its translator rendered into ancient script.
“Tog, you did not say it was a hominid species you were bringing before the Concordia.”
“It was not part of the presentation requirements,” P’ing-so said.
“We were never informed another hominid species was being fostered.”
“Again, we were not required to inform you. Our stewardship of this species was registered, as was required. Their debt is paid, and they are now petitioning for Awakening.”
Minu was certain the Goydook didn’t know she could understand every word. She stared at the alien, trying not to show she did. She had no idea if it could read human body language, but she maintained her poker face anyway.
“The Tog have always caused trouble,” the Goydook bubbled angrily. “Things are precarious enough. The T’Chillen and Mok-Tok are building new ships. The Concordian Council is holding its breath, wondering what is going to happen next!” Minu wondered how an aquatic held its breath. “And you bring us a hominid, out of the blue.”
“Are you going to allow us to do the ritual, or do you intend to break hundreds of thousands of years of tradition?”
Minu watched the alien. It was completely non-human, maybe more so than any she’d ever met. There was really no way to know what it was thinking or feeling, even though the script her mind was translating had emphasis tags, so she knew it was upset. The only thing she knew about them was that they were one of the higher order species. She made a mental note to never underestimate them.
“Your ritual begins in one quarter segment,” it said and returned the way it came.
P’ing-so led them through the door. Minu considered saying something, maybe asking hser about the Goydook’s hatred of hominids. The problem with doing so was that it put a card on the table she wasn’t willing to play.
Past the doors, the hallway angled slowly upwards. Minu’s feeling of dread increased as she heard innumerable voices above her. The layout bothered her. This was the center of government, the seat of the mighty Concordia. The tunnel made a 180 degree turn and angled upward. ‘Murder hole’ ran through her mind.
“What’s wrong?” Aaron whispered in her ear.
“I don’t know,” she said. “The way that Goydook reacted to us, the way this place is constructed like a redoubt… it all has me on edge. Stay on your guard.”
Up ahead was another doorway like the one below. This one was already open to allow them to pass. She completely missed the vista beyond as they approached as she was too busy studying the recessed weapons and field projectors.
“I see what you mean,” Aaron said, noticing them as well.
“Oh my,” Bjorn said. Minu thought he was referring to more defenses, when she glanced back at him, but he wasn’t looking at the walls, he was looking straight ahead. She turned and looked. What she saw took drew her breath in a long gasp.
From the outside, it was easy to think of it as a plastic or metal dome. Domes were common in the Concordia, especially on worlds with unbreathable atmospheres. It was a natural design that was strong and resilient under most conditions. And when constructed of advanced materials like dualloy or moliplas, it was nearly indestructible by nature.
The capitol dome wasn’t a normal dome. It was built of many thousands of isosceles triangles connected by dualloy. But the material the triangles were made of looked like nothing Minu had ever seen. It allowed the light of Nexus’s sun through in an almost mesmerizing blue-green hue that reminded her of diving to the bottom of a swampy lake and looking up at the surface. And there was no secondary support structure.
“What is it?” she wondered.
Bjorn and Ted both shook their heads.
“It must be incredibly strong,” Bjorn said. “I’d love to get a sample!”
As they finished their ascent, they saw the floor of the chamber.
It resembled a vast amphitheater. Rows upon rows of seating reached up from below ground level to a quarter of the way up the wall. The tunnel emerged halfway up one rank of seating in the middle of the sweep. The seats seemed to be ordered by priority or rank. Because of the curvature of the seating, the number of seats decreased as you drew closer to the floor.
Within each seating area were subdivisions. They varied greatly in size and style. Some were simple, with only a pair of beings occupying them. Others were as large as houses with dozens of beings from several species occupying them. The floor was an open, semi-circular space, about 300 meters across, made of the same blue-green crystal as the walls.
The back of the dome was dominated by a huge, crystalline tree, vaguely reminiscent of the weeping willows Minu had seen in the Summit territory. But this one had strong leading branches that shot up to reach higher. The tree was made of the same crystal as the walls and the floor, and it appeared to hold up that side of the dome.
