Exodus, page 72
“You think it is?”
“The other network believes so, yes.”
“So no potential for disinformation there.”
“There is a very professional communications protocol in place with the head of the network and the controller.”
“Oh, so you have the heads of these networks, do you?”
“We are very near to confirming one.”
“Who?”
“He’s called Toše. If he is not the head, he is close to them.”
“Where is he?”
“On a Traveler starship, the Cybele’s Eagle. It left for Lidon five years ago.”
“He can hardly be the head of a network if he’s not there, now can he?”
“He is at the top, sir,” Makaio-Faraji said recklessly. “How many share that position is unknown at the moment.”
“I don’t think we’ve ever run an operation this pitifully inadequate before. Frankly, it’s a disgrace. You have failed us very badly, Makaio-Faraji.”
“Sir, the contacts I have built are invaluable. They—”
“No, they’re not. Even a human could have done this job better.”
“There are ships operating inside the HeSea,” Makaio-Faraji announced; the news might convince Ualana-Shoigu he wasn’t entirely useless. “They fly out of some outpost of an unknown dominion on the other side from Tinaja. Anyone hiding themselves this close to us must be hostile.”
“How do you know this?”
“An alliance I’ve cultivated with Olomo meant he entrusted me with the information. A Heresy science vessel detected them. I’d like to propose we send a joint mission to find out everything we can. Olomo is certainly open to the proposition if—”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said no. The ships are not unknown. The navy is aware of them.”
Not even the rider could stop the expression of incredulity on Makaio-Faraji’s face. “You know about them? Who are they?”
“It’s classified, but let’s just say certain Celestial elements who fled Malakbel after the Formation War ended up there. They are irrelevant to the Crown Dominion; their technology is barely higher than human level, so they certainly don’t pose a threat.”
“Why was I not told?” Makaio-Faraji asked indignantly.
“Because you do not need to know.”
“Sir, I am an archon of Wynid, assigned to Kelowan and beyond. I am loyal to our great queen and have served her well. Tinaja has a Gate of Heaven route that connects it directly to Kelowan. I should have been told.”
“That wasn’t my decision. And I’m clearly not the only chief archon who doubts your abilities.”
“That is not—”
“Enough. Lord Makaio-Faraji, Her Majesty appreciates everything you have done to keep Her realm secure. So do I. Apart from this latest problem, your tenure has been successful.”
“No,” Makaio-Faraji started. “Please, Ualana-Shoigu, don’t do this. My people are so close to confirming the origin of both networks. They’ve spent decades on this mission; they’re the best.”
Ualana-Shoigu shook his head and gave Makaio-Faraji a weary glance. “You put me in a difficult position.”
“Let me finish this. I will prepare all my operations ready to hand over to whoever you choose as my successor, and I will stand aside willingly; I will tell my Family it is my choice. But let me expose these networks.”
Ualana-Shoigu stared at him for a long time, his face expressionless. “You may retain the Gondiar operation for a maximum of ten years. I will award archon status to Lady Asahi-Iryna, who will assume responsibility for all other operations you are running. And, Makaio-Faraji, that includes liaison with our so-called ally archons such as Olomo. You will sit down with her here at the security conference and gift her every relevant detail. Understood?”
“I understand.”
* * *
—
“What happened, father?” Neusch asked as they walked back along the balcony.
“You look unhappy,” Soltz chimed in.
“Well, I’ve got some good news. I’m going to hand over my duties to another archon, so we can start to think about spending a lot more time at the family estate. After all, one of you will be starting your life there.”
“Did you hear that?” Neusch taunted his brother. “You’re going to grow a life of your own.”
“Am not. I’m the perfect host body.”
“Father…”
“Please don’t,” Makaio-Faraji said. “Not tonight. I don’t know which of you I will choose. Actually—”
“Yes?” they chorused eagerly.
“You will both probably become new family members. This host of mine is still young; I only had the pair of you because of the dangers an archon faces.” Interestingly, yet unsurprisingly, when he looked down at the pair of them, it was Neusch who seemed unhappy at the idea of not being his next host body.
“Why are you giving up?” Neusch asked. “You love what you do. Oh—I’m sorry, father. He replaced you, didn’t he? Helena-Thyra is really serious about rebuilding her court with hardliners, isn’t she? I thought you were hardline. Your gifts and my attitude says you are.”
“Our queen knows what she’s doing,” Makaio-Faraji said automatically. At least, I hope she does. There were events in the Crown Dominion of which he clearly knew nothing, like the clandestine station beyond the HeSea, which it seemed Helena and the senior court had known about for centuries. It was quite humbling, finding out how little he was regarded by Ualana-Shoigu and presumably Gahiji-Calder before. After all, Kelowan was my assignment.
“When will we go back to Wynid, father?” Soltz asked.
“I have been granted ten years to finish the Gondiar assignment, so after that.”
Neusch tipped his head to one side. “Ten years dilated or ten years biological?”
Makaio-Faraji opened his mouth to answer. Closed it. He grinned down at his sons. “That is a very good question.”
* * *
—
The log fire was contained inside a big globular iron brazier, itself hanging on a long chain from the apex of the Verak castle hall’s vaulted ceiling. Although the flames burned fiercely, often flaring out past the metal bands, no smoke rose out to coat the ceiling with soot, and no ash fell on the conference table below. Thyra also noticed there didn’t seem to be a feed mechanism to add new logs. Yet she was sure the whole thing was real. The heat coming from it certainly was, and the vaguely comforting smell. The memories she’d abducted from Helena’s dying mind didn’t hold any answers.
And Helena wouldn’t care, so I mustn’t.
Meaning she ignored the miniature medieval version of a sun above as Carolien-Amaia droned on patronizingly. “The Ratarajan Dominion have fallen back on a simple wait-and-observe strategy.”
“I’d hardly call that a strategy,” Luus-Marcela said scathingly. “More like a not-knowing-what-the-hell-to-do-and-hope-the-problem-goes-away approach.”
“Did you expect something else from the Ratarajan?” Thyra asked archly.
“Ladies, could we focus, please?” the empress said wearily. “Does anyone have information different from the general navy assessment about the true military capability of the Ratarajan Dominion?”
“We haven’t had a chance to examine the systems capability of those spheres they live in for a couple of centuries,” Inessa-Pierina said. “They’re quite potent when they combine.”
“Not as potent as their new warship variants,” Ramona-Ursule said. She shrugged at the accusing looks the other queens gave her. “What? One of the Nizinsk science academy research ships flew past their Avalby asteroid navy complex. It has good sensors.”
“And you were going to inform us of this when?” Carolien-Amaia inquired with acid sweetness.
“No time like the present.” Ramona-Ursule smiled back.
“What’s your conclusion?” Thyra asked bluntly.
“The Ratarajan Dominion would win, but it would cost them; those Mara Yama citadel ships are tough bitches. Our estimate is the Ratarajan Dominion would suffer twenty-three percent losses.”
“Of their navy?”
“Of their dominion.”
“Shit.”
“And that is only an estimate. We don’t actually know what kind of surface warrior the Mara Yama have cooked up in their obscene synthoid vats. It could be a lot worse if they managed to get through Ratarajan orbital defenses and landed. The Ratarajans would have to go pre-emptive, which they don’t have the psychology for.”
“I don’t care what kind of misbegotten Changeling soldier the Mara Yama conjure up,” Luus-Marcela said. “Nothing biological could defeat a Ratarajan sphere.”
“Care to wager?” Ramona-Ursule asked lightly.
“The spheres’ll just zip out of reach.”
“Unless the Mara Yama have nightmare pterodactyl derivatives. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Ladies!” Carolien-Amaia said. “The Ratarajan Dominion won’t launch a pre-emptive strike for the same reason we won’t. Nobody wants to be fending off Mara Yama fleets for the next ten thousand years. So, what are we going to do?”
“They’re here for the HeSea,” Luus-Marcela said. “We all know that. Our agreement at Carolien’s ascension to increase our naval strength should now be revised upward.”
“Really?” Thyra said. “That’s it? Just build more ships? That sounds like a Ratarajan response to me. I mean, explain to us what exactly you’ll do with these new warships.”
“Their existence will be a warning to the Mara Yama.”
Thyra laughed derisively. “Nearly every dominion can destroy a Mara Yama fleet if their backs are to the wall. The reason nobody does is for fear of the eventual consequence—that they don’t just swarm, they mass. It’ll take a couple of thousand years for them all to reach the Poseidon Nebula, but they’ll come. Then we really will be up shit creek.”
“So what do you propose?” Carolien-Amaia asked airily.
“Annex Capo Frois.”
“What?”
Luus-Marcela chortled in delight and applauded. The other queens were giving Thyra calculating looks.
“How does that help us?” Ramona-Ursule asked.
“Luus-Marcela is quite right in one respect,” Thyra said. “Increasing our naval strength is a warning to the Mara Yama. But it is a warning now. The Mara Yama’s Great Game is played in extreme long term. They already know we are resolute and that we can destroy the fleet swarming around de Verya. What they want to know is how we will react to a provocative incursion like this, so they can plan accordingly. Annexing Capo Frois is one of our goals anyway. Our archons have weakened their political structure. They depend on us for trade and fuel, and forty-seven percent of their population are Imperial Celestials; the rest are biologically diverse. Calling themselves the Uthara Dominion is misleading; it’s more like a politically necessary alliance of different species, especially on Santoni-O. It would be ours in two hundred years anyway; we agreed on that. I say advance the timescale and send a combined fleet and just replace their government with a governor appointed by the empress.”
“None of this affects the Mara Yama situation,” Inessa-Pierina complained.
“Oh, dearest sister, it does,” Thyra corrected. “Our need to be strong when dealing with the Mara Yama is in the future, and that strength comes with an economic price—one that may be so costly it disturbs the stability our subjects enjoy, and which it is our personal burden to guarantee. So by absorbing the industrial capacity of Capo Frois and its population, we will be able to expand our economy at almost no price to our core star systems. Then when the time comes, we will be able to build more warships with less cost to our overall economy. It also hits the problem right back at the Mara Yama. Their fleet’s original course was taking them to Capo Frois, was it not? If that becomes part of the Crown Dominion, we will legitimately be able to deny them access when they eventually move on from Hoa Quinzu. They will be the ones who have to make the next move in this game they are playing against us, so it will be us who tests their resolve and intent. We will be the ones who can plan effectively.”
“I like it,” Luus-Marcela said.
“In addition, I would suggest we increase our archon operations in the region around Hoa Quinzu,” Thyra said. “Stir up some trouble in the Caralax Dominion and the Jodian—and possibly the Gollaren Dominion as well. As our dear empress suggested at her council, a few false flag atrocities might result in our honorable neighbors taking action against the apparent culprit fleet, again allowing us to test the resolve of the Mara Yama.”
“And if they respond by sending more of their fleets?” the empress inquired.
“Then we know what we must do, and we will have the time to prepare.”
“You would genocide them?”
“I would rather it was them than us, and we have the military capability to ensure it.”
“My dear Helena-Thyra, I see the rumors of your new stance are not exaggerated.”
“Thank you, empress. Politics was the necessary attribute to steer the Crown Dominion through the great period of calm we have blessed our subjects with. But that calm time is ending, and to get through the long years ahead, we will each need the strength that I know slumbers within each of us. We will rise to the occasion once again and show this Centauri Cluster of ours that we are not the decadent dominion they have misjudged us to be.”
“It might work,” Luus-Marcela said with a nice show of reluctance.
Thyra granted her a small smile of thanks. She could see that all of them were enthused by the notion of annexing Capo Frois. Stability was a fine concept, but you could have too much of it—especially if your age was measured in millennia and you could increase your wealth and power with zero personal risk.
“I would like to propose to our empress that we four queens will each bring a Royal Fleet to Kelowan in ten years’ time, to combine with the Imperial Fleet under her command,” Thyra said.
“It pleases me to put Queen Helena-Thyra’s proposal to the vote,” Carolien-Amaia said formally—and perhaps a little eagerly. “All those in favor?”
Five Regal hands were raised with studied nonchalance.
“The proposal is carried. Instructions will be passed to our respective admiralties to coordinate Our noble venture. For the Eternal Crown Dominion.”
“For the Eternal Crown Dominion,” the queens agreed.
* * *
—
It was a modest lodge twenty kilometers from the majestic castles at the end of the Cortona habitat, and also distant from its neighboring residences. When Makaio-Faraji’s skicab arrived at the front door, the snow was halfway up the walls. Golden light shone through the windows to splash across the pristine white snow field outside. Smoke trickled out of the tall black chimney at one end. It was all delightfully anachronistic.
An android opened the thick wooden door for him, and more light streamed out. It showed Makaio-Faraji into the lounge where the fire burned in a wide stone hearth. The walls were made from stacked logs that were beveled together perfectly at the corners. Lord Gahiji-Calder rose from a broad couch and put out his hand, his unfashionable old robe swirling around his bloodstone extrusions.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” Makaio-Faraji said after they exchanged self-perceptuals. “I wish—” He stopped as another Celestial stepped into the room. “Lord Jolav-Dabny?” He turned to Gahiji-Calder. “I thought this to be a private meeting.”
Jolav-Dabny offered his hand. Makaio-Faraji reluctantly exchanged self-perceptuals.
“Two of us meeting can be construed as old friends catching up,” Gahiji-Calder said. “Especially as you and I seem to share the predicament of our services no longer being required by the court. But three of us meeting together could be misconstrued, and possibly even used against us. Lord Jolav-Dabny here has also had his court stature reduced of late.”
Jolav-Dabny shrugged, which set his considerable bloodstone crescents rocking from side to side as if his neck could barely hold them anymore. “It is the way of all consorts once our royal spawn have aged to independence. I’m really only hanging on to my palace apartment as a courtesy given to the father of Her Majesty’s equerry.”
“So what you need to ask yourself, Makaio-Faraji,” Gahiji-Calder said, “is do you wish to stay and engage in conversation with us?”
Makaio-Faraji produced a sad grin. “I used to resort to a soothing rider for my sessions with you. Now I no longer see the need. The universe is not what it once was.”
“Excellent,” Gahiji-Calder said. “Come, let us sit by the fire—three old men whose time has passed, discussing every wrong that has befallen the universe since we were in charge. What could be more traditional than that?”
The lodge’s androids served them an enriched wine from one of the vineyards owned by Gahiji-Calder’s family. Makaio-Faraji started to speak, but his old boss held up a hand and waited until the androids had left. After that, Makaio-Faraji’s personal CI informed him a damping field was blocking the lounge.
“You can speak freely in front of Jolav-Dabny,” Gahiji-Calder said.
Makaio-Faraji gave the former consort a curious glance.
“Ever the archon.” Jolav-Dabny chuckled. “I understand. Then to put you at ease, I am here because our beloved queen is behaving oddly. I would go so far as to question her current suitability to be on the throne.”
Makaio-Faraji relaxed fractionally. Besides, he told himself, Helena-Thyra hardly needs to bother with the effort an entrapment requires. If she wants me removed, I’d already be floating home the long way around. Ualana-Shoigu would see to that. “I appreciate your candor,” he said. “Gahiji-Calder, I asked to see you because I too have a question. When you were chief archon, did you know there is an unknown dominion’s station at a red dwarf binary on the other side of the HeSea from Tinaja?”
