Twilight Serenade, page 32
part #6 of Earth Song Series
There were 19 pedestals rising from the roots, just below the trunk, solid chunks of dualloy that looked harsh and out of place when put against the natural beauty of the crystal. Eighteen of them were the same height, maybe 20 meters tall, arrayed nine to a side in a semicircle. The one in the center was a few meters taller, and it appeared to have once been painted.
Five of the pedestals were occupied, with their tops holding podiums of sorts where a being, or several, stood. Mok-Tok, T’Chillen, Tanam, Goydook, and the Tog were all there. These were the higher order species, the rulers of the Concordia. One more pedestal held a podium, but it was unoccupied. The other pedestals were bare.
The lowest seating areas were reserved for the higher order species. Six of them were occupied, one was empty. The level above that, Minu knew, was reserved for the senior species. There were a couple dozen of those, and she had at least a passing acquaintance with most of those. The section had room to hold five times that number. She saw the Gulla in a water-filled area. Another looked like an overgrown, abandoned field, but she couldn’t see anything inside. She spotted the Akala delegation. There was bad blood there.
Above that, in the largest area, were the minor species. The area could have held thousands, but Minu estimated there were no more than 1,000 present. As P’ing-so explained, this was not important business. Those present were either powerful, bored, or desperate. She wondered where that put humanity.
The most interesting species in attendance were the ultra-rare exotics, those that didn’t breathe oxygen or found it toxic. Their sections were surrounded by a force field, or in a few cases, a moliplas enclosure. There were only a few of those, but Minu longed to know more about them. She imagined bringing a Weaver here, one day.
She examined the layout and considered how the species got where they were. The only way to become a more powerful species was to foster younger species.
“We should proceed,” P’ing-so said, gesturing with hser long-fingered hand.
Along the curve of the walkways separating each section was an incredibly complicated hoverfield transport system. Minu and her entourage stepped in, P’ing-so said something in hser native language, and they suddenly took off. The system made drop shafts look low-tech in comparison. Only the Tog and Lilith seemed unimpressed.
The transport took them directly up toward the higher order species’ area. Flying over the heads of everyone else was an obvious display of power. Minu grinned. It was good to have powerful friends.
They hovered over the edge of the Tog mission, and the field deposited them, several at a time, in their appropriate areas. When everyone was in place, it wasn’t quite crowded, but it wasn’t spacious, either.
Two other Tog were there waiting. One was Z’kal, the Tog’s head librarian. The other was unfamiliar to Minu.
“This is Go’kis,” P’ing-so said. “Hse is our formal representative to the Concordia. I speak for the Tog, and hse is like an ambassador for day-to-day business.”
“It’s an honor to meet you, Concordian Master,” Minu said, as she and the rest of the human delegation bowed. Minu realized it was the last time they would ever bow as clients.
“It is an honor to meet the Imperator of the humans. Fascinating title, I might add.”
“I would love to discuss the historical significance of that title,” Z’kal jumped in with uncharacteristic Tog bluntness. “I know your choice is basic logic, but its use over human history prior to orphaning—”
“Maybe later,” P’ing-so suggested, “after the ritual, if time provides?”
Z’kal nodded in resignation, and Minu grinned. She’d never seen a Tog so obviously disappointed.
“The High Council is calling for attendance,” hse said, and Minu turned to face the pedestals where the higher order species were holding court.
“Call to attendance the Grand High Council of our Concordia, all must come, all must respond!” The voice echoed throughout the chamber. “T’Chillen!”
“We sit,” answered a snake from their pedestal.
“Mok-Tok!”
“We sit.”
“Tog!”
“We sit,” answered Go’kis.
“Tanam!”
“We sit,” answered Veka. Minu didn’t know how she knew it was her; she just knew it. It might have been because the voice had a slightly mechanical sound to it since she had used a cybernetic tongue. This was going to be special.
“Goydook!”
“We sit.”
“Poolab!” Only silence answered. “The Poolab will respond!”
Minu took her tablet from its holster and accessed it. The Poolab looked like little seahorses in a fishbowl. Two higher order species were aquatics, which was interesting. “Where are they?” she asked Go’kis.
“They have only appeared at Council intermittently for the last 1,000 years,” hse explained. “A century ago, they stopped entirely.”
“Has anyone been to their planet to check on them?” she asked, half joking.
“They are a very old species,” Z’kal explained. “Their business interests were handled by allies and released clients. When a species gets that old, sometimes they simply fall asleep.”
“How can an entire species fall asleep?”
“The concept is more complicated than that. They enter a never-ending period of inner reflection, often contemplating high mysteries of philosophy, extreme technology, or even religion, in rare cases.” Z’Kal shrugged. They’d adopted the human mannerism for expressing unsureness. P’ing said being unsure was one thing humanity excelled at.
“What happens if they don’t return?” Minu asked.
“In another year, their seat will be emptied, and only five higher order species will sit on the Council.”
“Why aren’t new species elevated to the higher order?”
“That is a very good question,” P’ing-so said.
“Let the record show that the Poolab do not sit! This Council is seated. Presiding are the Tog.”
“We pass due to business before the Concordia,” Go’kis said.
“Noted! The Tanam come before us to lead the Council.”
“This was unfortunate but unavoidable,” P’ing-so told Minu. “However, what happens is more a matter of ritual than a matter of Council deliberation. Precedents are powerful things, even to the Tanam.”
“We accept this responsibility,” the Tanam said. Minu was positive Veka was on that pedestal.
“That’s the bitch that interrogated me after I was captured,” Aaron whispered in her ear, confirming Minu’s observation. “I’d recognize that voice anywhere.”
“We had… words over you a couple of years ago on Coorson,” Minu remarked. “I’m sure the kitty cat is over that by now.”
A short time passed as the Council was asked to approve mundane items that only had agenda numbers. Minu didn’t bother looking them up. As if the bomb P’ing-so dropped on earlier wasn’t enough, having Veka running the Council meeting was pretty much the icing on the cake.
She examined the magnificent crystal tree while the meaningless drudgery of daily government proceeded. Now that they were closer to the tree, the light coming through looked bluer. It made her head hurt, for some reason.
Above her, the gallery of species was almost loud enough to drown out the amplified voices of the Concordian Council and announcer.
“Higher order business,” the announcer boomed. “Who comes before this Council?”
“We do,” Go’kis said.
“Speak,” Veka ordered from across the floor.
“We are the Tog. Today, we bring our clients before the Concordia. This is a species we have cared for and brought to their own. We call them humans.”
“Come forth, as prescribed by tradition,” said the announcer. Go’kis motioned her forward, and Minu took a deep breath.
“Ready,” she said.
Minu, her Legates, and Sergeant Selain were borne aloft on one of the autonomous lifts.
“Good luck,” Aaron said. Minu turned and winked at him. Mindy watched her mother float away, her eyes wide with fright.
“Momma will be fine!” Minu said loudly before they were too far away.
The lift rose high enough to clear the Tog enclosure’s low walls, then moved forward, down to the blue-green crystalline floor. Minu had practically grown up with Concordian technology. She trusted it more than anyone she knew, except for Pip and Lilith.
When the lift got within a step of the floor, Minu confidently stepped forward. People watching 10,000 light years away on Bellatrix said she strode forward like she owned the place. Some said she swaggered. In 100,000 homes, people cheered. Minu Groves was on deck. This would be good.
Minu’s first thought was that the floor wasn’t as slick as it appeared. How would it have looked if she had sprawled face first in front of the whole galaxy? Her second thought was that the entire setup was well designed. The Concordian Council was many meters above them, and the audience floor was vast and empty. She had a sudden memory of being a tiny girl crawling in their apartment’s kitchen and looking up at the table which seemed infinitely high above her.
She was aware of P’ing-so next to her, easily keeping pace with hser four legs. “Twenty meters out,” she’d been instructed, “stop and bow in a posture of total respect.”
Minu stopped and lowered her head to touch the floor. All the humans did the same, Bjorn with some difficulty, while P’ing-so bent only slightly at hser centaur waist.
“These are humans, our clients,” hse announced loudly, hser voice amplified in the auditorium. “Honorable and true they have been. Their debt is paid, their service is complete.”
“Do you offer any objection to their petition?” asked the anonymous voice.
“None.”
“Leave us,” Veka growled.
P’ing-so, hser duty completed, bowed as before, then turned to Minu and offered another. Minu thought it was slightly deeper. She couldn’t tell for sure, as she was still prostrate on the floor and could barely see hser. A moment later, a field buoyed hser up toward the Tog’s pedestal.
“Humans,” the announcing voice said, “you have honorably met your obligations to your masters, and they are not standing in your way to Awakening. Rise and face your future.”
They stood, and the Goydook spoke: “Humans, turn back from this course and return to your masters.”
“We do not,” Minu said loudly. “We choose to go alone.”
“Who speaks for humans?”
“We do,” they all chimed. Minu smiled confidently. She recognized each of their voices, from Dram’s baritone to Lilith’s musical contralto.
“Your voices are in accord, like our union. This is good, but only one may speak going forward. Who shall that be?”
“I speak,” Minu said, loud and proud. “Imperator Minu Groves.”
“Very well,” the Goydook said, then fell silent.
Next, the T’Chillen hissed. “Humans, turn back from this course and return to your masters! The way is perilous, and you are unsure.”
“We take our chances,” Minu proclaimed loudly. “We face the unknown alone.”
“Who speaks for humans?”
“I do,” she said, then breathed a small sigh. She wasn’t sure they were still anonymous with the T’Chillen. If the snake up there knew how many of his slithering kind she’d killed, this wouldn’t go well.
The Mok-Tok spoke next. Like the Tanam, Minu had faced them in combat and bested them. She owed them some payback down the road. All those helpless children…
“Humans, turn back while you still can,” the strange voice said. Minu knew that somewhere, in the mound of hair, a tiny mouse-like being was speaking. “There is nothing waiting for you but harsh reality and the dark night of space. None will bleed for you.”
“We do not turn back. We willingly shed our own blood to earn our freedom.”
Minu drew her dagger and carefully nicked her left hand. She returned the dagger to its sheath, and she held out her arm and inexplicably broke the script. She never knew why, but instead of holding her hand out, she formed a fist and aimed it at the huge, furry Mok-Tok far above her.
“Blood for blood,” she said. As drops of blood fell from her fist, millions on Bellatrix fell even more in love with their beloved leader.
“Who speaks for humans?”
“I do.” Minu was glad she was the only one required to give blood. “Our blood is joined as one, we stand as one, and my people follow me in this. We are one.”
It was time for the Tanam, but Minu’s eyes were drawn to the blue-green crystalline floor. Ripples of golden fire were radiating away from her drop of blood. What the fuck? That wasn’t in the script.
“This is your last chance to turn back,” the Tanam hissed with obvious venom. “Return to your master, safe from doom and despair. You go where none will follow. You go where none dare lead.”
Minu didn’t reply. She was staring at the floor, eyes wide, as the golden lightning storm around her blood continued to build, spinning around and around. With Veka’s final word, the lighting storm exploded straight to the tree.
The giant crystalline tree dominated the dome, its branches extending outward at least half way over the vast seating area. Even the rare instance of a former client species petitioning for Awakening hadn’t managed to reduce the ever-present din of the assembly by more than a quarter. When the golden lightning hit the roots of the tree, it unleashed a pulse up the trunk that raced through every branch to the very tips, turning the entire tree iridescent blue and casting the light over every square meter of the dome.
Minu gasped at the sheer, almost painful, beauty of it, then put a hand to her mouth as the branches swayed gracefully back and forth for a moment, though there was no wind. Slowly, the light faded. The blue, iridescent crystal looked just like the material Lilith’s Kaatan used to make its bots. Minu realized the entire tree was made of Azure. She turned and looked at Lilith in stunned amazement.
The last of the light died away, but the silence stayed behind. It was a wide, deep silence in a place usually alive with sound. Minu forgot for a moment why she was there.
Above them the Tanam, Veka, and the T’Chillen were looking at the crystal tree. The Mok-Tok could have been playing chess for all Minu knew, the big shaggy hulk stood there implacably. The Tog, P’ing-so, and the Goydook were in deep conversation as if nothing had happened.
Finally, Minu remembered her lines. “We follow our own guidance, we lead with our own kind. We only ask to be part of the Concordia and follow their laws as they are now our own.”
It took Veka a moment to realize she was up and to tear her gaze away from what had always been a huge decoration. What was it now?
“Who speaks for you humans?” she finally managed.
“I do,” Minu said, her voice a little shaky.
“Are you ready for an end to darkness? To join the Concordia? To be Awakened to the truths of life?”
“I am, and we are,” she replied.
“What does the Tog offer to their departing clients?”
“We give them their planet, Bellatrix,” P’ing-so said from hser high perch.
Minu was stunned. The gift exchange was traditional at the end of the ceremony. It was often something useful like a cache of tech or some EPC. The leasehold on Bellatrix was worth an immense amount! She’d planned to negotiate with the Tog for it.
“The Concordian Office of Planetary Lease and Control has recorded a renewed lease on their planet for 999 years, the maximum period allowable. We now transfer that lease to the humans.”
“So, it is noted. Does the client offer a gift in return?”
It was traditional, but some ex-clients were so poor, it was not required or expected. Minu had told her friends she planned to give the Tog a Phoenix shuttle, though later. She didn’t want the Concordian Council to know humans had orbital technology. But Minu did what she always did. She made a snap call.
“Humanity pledges its help when the Tog call.”
Up on his pedestal, P’ing-so looked down at her without comment.
“We are their friends, their allies, and their protectors. Their enemies are now ours.”
Hse nodded hser head once.
“Then it is done,” the Tanam said. “Welcome to the Concordia.”
* * *
There was a small reception after the Concordian Council completed the day’s business. It was traditional, and seldom of any note. Most of the young species who had become Awakened were completely unknown, and the excitement of their joining the Concordia seldom extended beyond them and their former patrons. The humans were an unusual case. It was a rare occasion when a higher order species bid farewell to one of their fostered species.
“Will you attend?” Minu asked P’ing-so as they were leaving the dome. She’d glanced at the tree one last time. It still looked pure blue. After the unusual display, it had remained silent.
“No,” P’ing-so said. “Having a higher order species around will detract from the importance of the day and take the focus off you. This is your day.”
Several other species did attend. The Hgog made an appearance, surprising Minu. “Welcome to the Concordia,” the little, spike-covered biped said. It reminded Minu of an anthropomorphic porcupine.
“Thank you, senior species,” Minu said and bowed.
Several Beezer were also present, including Captain Pakata, leader of their new merchant marines. The higher leaders of his species weren’t hostile toward her anymore, but they were far from kind.
A trio of Traaga were there and were surprisingly well behaved. And there were dozens of other minor species, all wanting to meet the humans who’d created quite a stir when the great crystal tree acknowledged their arrival.
She met the leader of the Taccari, one of the few avian species of the Concordia. He towered more than half a meter above her, even when he bowed. His huge black-on-black eyes regarded her keenly, and his silver beak gleamed in the reception hall light.
