Chris put his hand to the console on his chair. A second later a image appeared on the big screen in front of us.
It was a view of the Emperor in his tank throne, rambling around the Great Hall. His words echoed out over us:
I scoured the life from their world and left it as an example for the rest of the races.
“The entirety of this recording–recorded by your own spy devices, Emperor–has been uploaded to the Jome A.I. court,” Chris said. He glanced down at a small screen beside his arm. “And their preliminary finding has been upheld in light of this evidence. The Don must forfeit their world. Emperor HeJov will be remanded to an incarceration facility for the rest of his life.”
“No!” the Emperor shouted, “I am the Don! No inferior race can hold me!”
“Like I said, shithead, planet’s mine, now,” Buck said.
That set the Emperor off on a rant that was truly epic. I’m surprised paint didn’t blister and peel off the walls from the words he used. After about a minute of it, Buck dug into his coat and tossed something at Liz. She caught in a golden flash of armor. It looked like a gray donut. As she walked over to the Emperor I stifled a laugh.
Duct tape.
She wrapped a few feet of it around the Emperor’s head and mouth and the command deck got quieter. She tossed it back to Buck and the roll disappeared back into his zebra stripe duster.
Yen moved closer to Chris. Liz came over and stood beside him, a seamless, golden figure of quiet power. Or not so quiet, occasionally.
“You cannot do this,” Yen said, “HeJovna is our home. Where will the Don go?”
Her fists were clenched at her side and her body trembled. Chris shook his head, a sad look on his face.
“This is justice,” he said, “A world for a world. The Don have used their power to create fear. Maybe now your race can take time to reflect and learn how to use your power to help other races. When all work together, we all rise higher.”
I wanted to tell him not to take any bets on that happening. Honestly it was a bit too much hippie feel good crap for me. I gave Buck a look and he rolled his eyes. Him too.
Yen clenched her teeth. “We will not leave,” she said, “We will die rather than have our world taken from us.”
“That can be arranged,” Buck said.
Chris held up hand to him. “It’s already happened, Yen,” he said. He nodded to me, “An infection has already been given to HeJovna. Over time, your world will become toxic to you. The infection won’t kill you, but it will make living there unbearable. There was another…entity who wished to bring death upon you all. But I convinced it this was more just. And perhaps more cruel.”
Yen’s thin lip quivered. “The Don shall never forget this,” she said, “You have not beaten us. You have only created enemies who will hunt you and all your kind until every last one of you is dead.”
Chris shook his head. “I know, but it was the best I could do with what I had,” he said, “I’d like to think I’m the hero, but more often than not anymore, I feel like I’m the villain. There’s no right way, just a less wrong one.”
Yen opened her mouth to speak but Chris held up his hand again.
“You’re the leader of the Don now,” he said, “Your Emperor more or less cut off the head of your entire government and most of your military. He ordered the death of all the leading royal bloodlines. By pure dumb luck, you’re it. The lone survivor of the bloodlines. It’s up to you now. You’re going to have a lousy time of it since the Emperor hid a fleet of his own out in the dark. They’ll be coming back, but you have a few years to consolidate your power. If you choose. On the other hand, you might want to grab a fast ship and run. Your choice.”
Yen staggered back a couple steps. Her blue skin had gone a few shades paler. She raised a trembling hand to her face.
“What have you done to us?” she said.
Chris shook his head. He looked like someone had just told him his dog died.
“You did it to yourselves,” he said, “I tried many times to find a peaceful solution. Your Emperor wouldn’t hear of it. I tried to find dissidents within your race who wanted a different kind of life. They only wanted the Emperor’s power. You’re a power mad race. If I let you have your way, the entire galaxy would be enslaved under your rule.”
“It is the role of the lesser races to serve us,” Yen said.
Chris sat straight up and slapped his hand on the console behind him. His eyes flashed with a rage I wouldn’t have suspected existed in him.
“There’s a phrase I hate that people on Earth use,” he said, “It sounds a lot like what you said. People in power say it when they’re screwing over people without power. They say: It’s not personal, it’s just business.”
“Oh Lord, here we go,” Buck said.
The lights on the control panels brightened. A shudder went through the ship, I felt the deck vibrate under my bare feet.
Liz touched Chris on the shoulder. “Chris,” she said.
Her voice was gentle, but held a note of warning.
It seemed to snap him out of whatever was happening. He looked away and took a deep breath. After a moment the console lights dimmed and the ship stopped vibrating. I noticed the Stickman had stopped working the consoles. His sticks and fibers held unusually still. Even Buck looked tense.
What kind of power did this Chris guy have? He looked like an ordinary guy, but he had something inside him that scared a lot of people. He didn’t look to be more than thirty or so, still a young guy. I sincerely hoped he didn’t crack up before I got home.
Yen stood still, fists clenched at her side, her mouth pressed so thin I almost couldn’t see it. There had to be a lot going through her mind right then. Her race had been the unspoken lords of the galaxy, and in a bloody instant they had been demoted.
It wasn’t going to set well with any of the Dons.
If there was still a fleet of Don battleships out there somewhere, there was going to be a lot of trouble down the line. Was this Chris guy prepared to deal with it?
“It’s never just business,” Chris said, “It’s always personal for someone. This time it’s personal for you.”
Yen didn’t say anything. Rage smoldered in her narrowed eyes, but maybe she was starting to understand just how little power she had at the moment. Or maybe how great a burden had been placed on her. I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
“The Don well still be welcomed in the Council of Seven,” Chris said, “But as an equal.”
Yen jerked back like she’d been slapped. “Council of Seven?” she said, “There are only six…”
“No, there were seven before and now there are seven again,” Chris said.
“But…the Dendon, they’re a dead race,” Yen said.
Chris closed his eyes. A shiver seemed to go through through him. Muscles on his neck stood out like he was strung tighter than a radio tower guy line. It almost looked like he was having a fight within himself. Whatever it was, he relaxed after a little bit and opened his eyes again.
“The Dendon people are gone, but their spirit–and their technology–lives on,” Chris said, “On behalf of the people of Earth, I have claimed Dendon and all of her technology.
“As of today, the A.I. court on Jome has recognized my claim and has reinstated the seventh seat.
“Earth is now a member of SevenUnion.”
Forty-Seven
Earth is now a member of SevenUnion.
The silence on the fancy command deck of the Dendon ghost ship was so thick I could have broken a crowbar on it.
It wasn’t just the Don hellion, Yen, who looked shocked now. T’Vey stood up, two of her four hands going to her mouth. Over at the control consoles by Buck, the Stickman broke the silence as he lost most of his human shape. He became a shapeless mass of squeaking, chirping sticks and fibers. I had a feeling the Stickman was one of Chris’ better allies, but apparently the announcement had blindsided him, too.
“You cannot do this,” Yen said. Her voice was barely more than a whisper, though. All of a sudden, her knees couldn’t hold her up any more and she dropped to the floor. She kneeled there, shoulders slumped.
“It’s already done,” Chris said.
The Stickman abandoned the controls and flowed up to Chris. Chris watched him come up, but didn’t seem afraid. Liz, moved around the chair, though. She held her hands open at her sides, but I saw bulges rise up on her armored wrists.
“Friend Chris,” the Stickman said in his buzzing voice, “Why was this news kept from the Perseus Clan?”
“Because the news has only existed for seconds,” Chris said, “The Clan Heart knows. They tend the A.I.s on Jome, how could they not know?”
Azor’s form fuzzed like a cloud made of sticks. The chirping of his zillions of parts was almost like a continuous screech.
“Be calm, friend,” Chris said, “You know my heart. This is for the greater good.”
Azor pulled himself together, more or less back into his semi-human shape. Though it was clear he was still upset by the way his form wavered. He made his human form bow to Chris, though.
“You ask for much trust, friend Chris,” Azor said, “But the Perseus Clan will honor the inheritors of Dendon.”
Chris stood and returned the bow. “You honor us,” he said.
“Get a room you two,” Buck said.
Chris scratched at his cheek with his middle finger and sat back in his command chair. Azor flowed back to the control panels. Buck shook his head and went back to rocking back and forth in his chair.
Chris and Liz turned back to Yen, who still kneeled on the floor.
“You need to make a choice, Yen Kovan,” Chris said, “Will you lead your people to their future, or do you wish to escape? We can probably salvage a scout from one of the wrecks out there if you want.” He waved a hand at the twisted remains floating across the huge view screen.
Yen turned her head to the screen. Above the red curve of the planet were the shattered fragments of what must have once been a mighty battle fleet. Did the Emperor order them destroyed? Or had Chris destroyed them with his alien ghost ship? I had no idea what capabilities this ship had, but I doubt it lacked weapons.
From what I gathered, the Dendon people were a bunch of pacifists. Except…
I glanced at Liz with her sleek golden armor.
Some of them Dendons had a knack for weaponry.
Yen got to her feet. Slowly, like she was pushing the weight of a world up on her shoulders. She turned cold eyes to Chris.
“Return me to my planet, Terran,” she said, “I will die with my people.”
“They won’t die,” Chris said, “Not right away anyway. But they have to leave HeJovna. Are you ready to lead them?”
“How can I be ready, Terran?” she said, “I will do what can. What I must.”
Chris nodded and stood. “That’s all I can ask for,” he said.
He went over to Emperor, still–thankfully–duct taped to the chair. The Emperor struggled and made muffled shouts at him. Chris pulled open the Emperor’s tunic. For a second I thought he was gonna pull out the phone thing the Emperor used to call up death and destruction. Instead, Chris exposed the Emperor’s bare chest.
There, sitting on scarred blue skin was a stunted triangle like on my chest. Only this one was as red as fresh human blood. The instant Chris exposed it, Yen gasped.
“You’re going to need this,” Chris said. The Emperor went into a frenzied struggle as Chris reached for it.
“You cannot,” Yen said.
Apparently Chris could. When his fingers touched the red medallion, the Emperor went stiff as a board, his eye wide and his mouth open in an O of shock or pain. The both stayed still as statues for a full minute. The the Emperor gasped and went limp.
The red medallion came away in Chris’ hand. He straightened up and put it between both hands. He closed his eyes and did the still as a statue thing again.
Liz’s words came back to me when she held the medallion I wore like he did–
I wish Chris was here, he could program these things better than I can.
How was he doing it though? I glanced at Buck. Buck watched Chris with narrowed eyes, his jaw working his ever present stick of cinnamon gum. Hopefully I could get Buck aside at some point and have him explain what the hell all happened. I only had about a billion questions.
After a few minutes Chris relaxed and opened his eyes. He took a deep breath and beckoned to Yen. She hesitated, then stepped over to him. Without even being asked, she shucked off her black robe and stood naked before him.
Chris put his hand to the black medallion on her chest. She went stiff like the Emperor did. A few seconds later, Chris pulled the medallion off her chest. She gasped and folded her arms over her chest, bowing her head. A tiny whimper escaped her lips.
“Head up,” Chris said, his voice soft. He raised the red medallion. “You are about to be the queen of a world.”
“I am not worthy,” she said.
Chris shrugged. “Who is? Somebody has to do it, though. Might as well be you.”
She clenched her eyes shut. Then she put her arms down and and stood up straight.
Chris put the red medallion on the hollow below her throat.
She moaned and went stiff, like an electric current was running through her body.
She stared to fall over backwards. Chris reached around and cradled her back. He took his hand away from the medallion.
Yen’s eyes popped open and she took a deep, shuddering breath. She pulled away from Chris in staggered steps. She stood, just breathing for a minute or two. Then she raised her hand. It hovered over the red medallion. She held it there, trembling, for a long moment. Then her fingers pressed down.
Red–red the color of fresh blood–flowed over her body. In moments she was covered. And she didn’t have to jump in the air to do it. Obviously the Emperor got the good stuff.
Her armor wasn’t as smooth and seamless as Liz’s, but it was still mighty impressive. It bulked with spikes at the shoulders and five knife-like waves crested her head. Other knife-like fins wound down the legs and body, giving the illusion that the wearer was bulkier than she really was.
Like most rulers, the Emperor had used a bit of marketing sleight of hand to improve his image.
I was so focused on Yen and her new armor than I almost didn’t notice Liz move up beside Chris. Her own armor bulged in places it hadn’t before. She stood with an arm in front of Chris, ready to push him back if Yen decided to see just how battle ready her new armor was.
Yen raised her armored hands and turned them over and back, her armored head bowed to look at them. She closed her fingers into fists. Her forearms bulged. Seams appeared and flat guns rose up. She raised her head.
The air about crackled with the tension. The moment seemed to stretched out to an eternity. Nobody moved. Even Azor’s squeaking and chirping stopped.
Liz didn’t move a muscle, but I knew she was ready. Her armor bulged along her arms and shoulders. Maybe Yen had the Emperor’s souped-up armor now, but I’d still put my bets on Liz.
Yen must have came to the same conclusion. She lowered her arms and the guns disappeared back into her armor.
“I will not thank you for this,” Yen said.
“Never expected you to,” Chris said, “If you don’t have any other questions, Liz will escort you to the airlock. I think you can find your way home from there.”
For a second I thought he meant to kill her, but then I realized Yen’s spiffy new armor was probably more or less a tiny spaceship. She’d fly out the airlock–with an escort by Liz, I’m sure, and go back down to to HeJovna to start her new job.
I doubt she was looking forward to it.
“What worlds are open to us?” Yen asked.
“None of SevenUnion’s worlds,” Chris said, “The Don will be nomads until they are willing to make peace with the rest of the races. I suggest you star
t a ship building program right away. Though, I’m guessing the Blinkys would be willing to sell you some ships.”
A shudder ran through Yen. “You expect the Don to ask for help?” she said.
Chris let out a sigh. “We all need help sometimes,” he said, “It’s how we learn to cooperate. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of strength because you have recognized you have a need that you cannot fulfill yourself. It gives you a chance to share and grow.”
Yen’s armored hand clenched into a fist. “It is weakness,” she said, “You shall not defeat us. I will take the Don and rebuild them into the conquerors we are meant to be. The lesser races will bow before us. You will bow before us.”
Chris made a motion to Liz. She moved over to Yen’s side. Sleek golden armor contrasted with gaudy blood-red armor. If there was a battle over good taste, the Dendon would win over the Don every time.
“I hope you will grow into better judgement,” Chris said, “We don’t need to be enemies. And you don’t need to have more enemies. Everyone hates the Don now. Take a different path, Queen Kovan. Don’t let hate substitute for wisdom.”
Yen spun on her heel and walked off the command deck, her armor whining and hissing. Liz flowed after her, a silent, golden predator.
Forty-Eight
We watched the two warriors leave the Dendon ghost ship command deck. Liz’s sleek, golden form, and they gaudy figure of Yen. The door slid closed and I let out a shuddering breath. Already the rancid cat food stench was getting overtaken by the fresh baked cinnamon roll odor of the Stickman.
Which was a heckuva lot more pleasant.
Buck swung his chair to face Chris.
“You shoulda killed them all,” Buck said, “A wounded enemy is more dangerous than a scared one.”
Chris gave him a sour look. “I believe in second chances,” he said.
Eclipsing Vengeance Page 25
