Rogue Stars

by C Gockel et al.

  In strong regal strides, she glided to the dais.

  A second beat of the gong and she sat down, folding her hands on the table.

  People settled in their seats with a rustle of clothes and documents.

  Light dimmed until much of the hall was in darkness and a strong beam from the ceiling silvered Delegate Akhtari’s hair.

  Her voice rang through the hall. “Delegates.”

  The last scuffles and coughs died away. All through the audience, little lights indicated screens of readers, gilding the faces of delegates from below.

  “Zhamata meets on the fifty-sixth day of the second quarter. In this meeting, the establishment will discuss seven items. We shall now turn to the first item on the agenda. Delegate Mavros will report on his preliminary talks into the expansion of the Exchange network to include Ziskmirthar and other geographically isolated areas of Indrahui.”

  The delegate for Kedras came to the speaker’s table. Like all Kedrasi, he was small of stature and almost vanished behind the structure except for his flaming red hair, but his voice sounded confident. “Delegates, the question here before us is a vexed one. The local authorities of Ziskmirthar have applied to the establishment to open a second Exchange node for Indrahui, independent of the main node.”

  A few delegates in the galleries rose.

  A clear voice came from somewhere up in the gallery. “This is lunacy if it is allowed to proceed, after all the effort the Indrahui establishment has put into peacekeeping! This will reopen the conflict we’ve spent years trying to quell.”

  People thumped on their desks, a way to show appreciation.

  “Language, Delegate!” Delegate Akhtari rang a bell. “The delegate for Kedras will continue his speech uninterrupted.” Her eyes blazed in the direction of the man who had spoken, a black Indrahui of the same race as Evi and Telaris. I wondered if they were listening up there.

  At the dais, the Kedrasi delegate continued unfazed, showing maps and proposals.

  I studied the text of the speech that had just arrived on my reader. An explosive subject that was sure to raise heated discussions. Indrahui was like the Middle East on Earth—always a hotbed of conflict, and could not settle on a single policy to deal with gamra. If the relationship between Nations of Earth and gamra broke down, Earth could well end up in a similar manner. Because even if Nations of Earth didn’t want to deal with gamra as observer or member, it would be certain that several countries would continue their relations with gamra independently. Greece, for example, would never give up the advantage gamra had delivered it by putting the Exchange in its capital. Other countries, too, would see the benefit. Countries with valuables to export, or countries that wanted fancy weaponry.

  After the Kedrasi delegate had—barely—finished his speech, another delegate stood up on the stairs. The spotlight revealed a member of the race that had once been common and plentiful on Indrahui. Hair grew all the way down her neck as if she wore a fuzzy scarf. Her face was coarse.

  They were fighting for land to be returned to them. The newcomers—the black Indrahui like Evi and Telaris—declared them primitive. Not fit to be called human, black Indrahui said, and I wondered if most gamra people thought the same of Earth, or if Aghyrians thought the same way of Coldi, the people their forefathers had created, or of all the other people who could be traced back to Aghyrian origin, which was more than ninety percent of all humanoids. Scary.

  The woman declared, in simple but clear sentences that, having been given the island of Ziskmirthar as part of the so-called Indrahui peacekeeping solution, she and her people should be allowed their own Exchange. To which a lot of others shouted that they could not expect gamra to pay for this, seeing as none of these original inhabitants had either the funds to travel across the network or the ability to pilot aircraft.

  More shouting followed, and inevitably, Delegate Akhtari’s ringing of the bell. Her voice boomed, amplified, over the racket, language, Delegates, language.

  When the noise died down, political opponents put proposals for consideration. The Kedrasi speaker accepted them and finished up by saying that he and his independent negotiators would consider the merits of each and report back to zhamata when they had finished. That pleased the meeting; the bureaucratic machine had turned one cog.

  Then Chief Delegate Akhtari declared time was up.

  My heart skipped a beat, and another one.

  She gestured at me.

  This was it. My legs rigid, I rose from my seat, grabbing the reader from the table. On the way up to the entrance of the box, my foot caught on a step. I would have fallen had strong hands not grabbed me from behind.

  Thayu. Warm feelings seeped in through the feeder link.

  Thanks.

  I felt that she was nervous, possibly more nervous than I was.

  We reached the gallery and turned left to walk towards the stairs. Lights came on in the ceiling to light my path to the speaker’s dais.

  People craned their necks to look at me, and whispered while Chief Delegate Akhtari introduced me. I didn’t hear any of her words and instead repeated the first lines of my speech in my mind. Thayu walked a few steps behind me, and I felt she was the only reason I kept walking.

  Under thumping on the desks, I climbed up, into the pool of bright light, turned to face the crowd and bowed.

  I put down my reader and thumbed the screen back into life, all movements mechanical. How much depended on my success here. Thayu rushed forward and attached a tiny clip to my ear. She indicated the screen on the dais. Turn it up here, off with this control, press it again to turn it back on. I’ll be just behind you if you need me. A fleeting warm touch of her hand, another one of those Coldi gestures.

  Thank you.

  She gave me an intense look and retreated into the shadow. I could still feel her, though, with me as Nicha should have been.

  The spotlight brightened.

  It was time.

  “Delegates.”

  My voice echoed in the hall, where nothing in the darkness indicated that at least two thousand people populated the stands.

  “Delegates, I cannot say how much it pleases me to be here, and how much of a step forward gamra has taken today by allowing me to come here. I am here, and my ears are yours to share, my thoughts are yours to hear and the people I represent have much tied up in my presence here.” A formulaic statement that was commonly used. “My presence, I must add, that in the last few days has been given extra meaning.”

  I waited for it, but there were no protesting shouts in the audience. I took another deep breath, air flooding my lungs like turbo-charged fuel. My cheeks glowed.

  “I’m here to mend relations, to forge new ones and to show our willingness to work with gamra. It is my strong belief that together, in cooperation, we will be stronger than apart. We cannot ignore each other any longer. We cannot succeed to our full potential.

  “Nations of Earth is ready to talk. Nations of Earth is ready to have all the opinions out in the open, and to determine the way forward towards a fruitful cooperation. Of course, it would be foolish of me to suggest that we forget the past. In fact, I believe we should look at it closely to learn from it so that the same mistakes are not made again.”

  Somewhere in the hall a voice went up. “Delegate, let’s do away with all the pretty words and let me ask a few questions.”

  The voice was Coldi, the pronouns challenging, and the spotlight had no trouble finding the speaker, who stood in amongst the rows of delegates seated in their boxes. Light glinted off his hair and silver temperature retaining suit. A red sash over his shoulder and around his waist seemed unnaturally bright.

  Of course Ezhya Palayi didn’t wear gamra blue. If Coldi were bluffing peacocks, this man was top rooster and considered himself above such mundane issues as dress code. He stood on a walkway between the benches, with his arms crossed over his chest, his legs slightly apart.

  He bowed to Delegate Akhtari in an exaggerated theatri
cal way. “May I?”

  She waved her hand, palm up in a go-for-it gesture. What was this? Delegate Akhtari hadn’t been so accommodating to interrupting speakers in the previous discussion. Was this meant to be some sort of retribution for how I had tried to push her into postponing my address?

  Keep calm, Thayu sent me.

  Ezhya Palayi bowed again, now to me.

  I remained straight backed, no matter how much I felt that a small bow would be polite, no matter how much I was determined not to provoke him. I was determined to play this by gamra rules.

  In the deathly silence in the hall, he stalked across the floor in powerful strides, between rows of delegates, in my direction. His face remained without emotion.

  “Delegate. Our newest delegate, who comes here with noble words, but whose words do not match his actions.” His speech rattled with accusatory pronouns.

  I kept my face equally emotionless. No one in the hall made a sound.

  “I take it that all present have heard of the two-facedness of this Delegate’s world, how his leader makes baseless accusations, while he sends his delegate to us pretending to be peaceful? I take it that zhamata has heard that Delegate’s entity accuses gamra interests for the disappearance of their previous delegate? Worse, that gamra assassins have killed their leader?” Although he had every right to use those royal-I pronouns, they rankled. What right did this man have to hijack time allocated to me? What right did he have—

  “Thank you, Delegate. I was going to address those subjects in my speech.”

  A few people snorted. I didn’t think it was funny at all—in fact I was going to kick the movie producer’s arse all the way to Jupiter.

  I continued, “I should perhaps point out to the Delegate, and others in this assembly who are of the same mind, that there have been no official statements appropriating blame.” Goddamned royal-I in return. The level of murmur in the audience increased. “I should also point out that until a proper investigation comes up with a result, I am not laying the blame for the murder of my president with anyone and it is unwise for any entities to do so.” I met the man’s eyes squarely, acutely aware that it was very much against Coldi custom to do so. He expected me to behave as subordinate, because everyone else did.

  Ezhya Palayi returned the stare. “Yet, your president has closed the Exchange and, therefore, he is laying blame.”

  “The president of Nations of Earth is trying to sort out what has happened. I have cautioned him against speaking out too clearly.” Never mind that Danziger wasn’t listening. “I understand why he makes allegations of gamra involvement.”

  “A correction, Delegate, he makes allegations of Coldi involvement.”

  “The people of my entity make that specific allegation, not the president.”

  Another voice came from somewhere to my right. “Is that because when your people look around, all they see is Coldi?”

  Ezhya Palayi’s withering gaze found the speaker, a dark Indrahui, at the same time the spotlight did. “What do you imply by that, Delegate?”

  This man, too, returned the Asto leader’s gaze squarely. “I refer to rule 91-473 of gamra, that in order to remain in the network, no entity shall annex another, either by force or by stealth.”

  Oof, that was a direct hit. I could feel Thayu recoil. Of course Asto was being accused of doing just that on Earth.

  Someone yelled from the back of the hall, “Slander!”

  More shouts broke out.

  Ezhya Palayi glared at the man. “Delegate, this allegation seems a little ironic. Aren’t your people at Indrahui doing just that—annexing another people’s land?”

  Now an avalanche of shouts burst from all sides of the hall.

  Delegate Akhtari rang the bell. “Language, Delegates, language!” When the level of noise had fallen, she continued, “The establishment shall conduct this meeting in orderly fashion and not roam off topic. Sit down.” She glared at Ezhya Palayi. “All delegates.”

  He slowly unfolded his arms and sank behind the partition of the nearest delegate’s box, all without apparent emotion. The regular occupants of the box stared at him.

  I continued, “I assure zhamata that if my entity has been invaded or annexed, my people do not know about it.”

  More snorts rose from the audience, this time from the Coldi delegates.

  “I have prepared, as several delegates have requested, a brief outline of the history of gamra interests in my world.” I quickly substituted gamra for “Coldi”, but the history was exclusively Coldi. Yet I refused to believe in the invasion by stealth theory. The first Coldi settlers had been refugees from an oppressive regime, with little more in common than a desire for freedom and to be as inconspicuous as possible. They had cut their ties with Asto and were as remote from the regime as I was from the old generation diplomats of Nations of Earth.

  “Meanwhile, gamra must act decisively.” I continued and turned to Ezhya Palayi. “The president of Nations of Earth may have poor manners in this assembly’s view, but their laws work differently. The authorities have decreed that no force must be spared to find the people responsible for the murder of the president. The investigation will be conducted by military forces.” Of course I meant police but Coldi had no such word, having little need for internal law enforcement, because their loyalty networks already dealt with crimes, brutally so. “Their laws require no official accusation to suspected individuals before their arrest. They do not use writs and ultimatums. According to their law, people will be taken into custody without opportunity to prove themselves innocent; people have already been taken into custody.”

  “So,” Ezhya Palayi continued. He had risen to his feet again. “Your president accuses us specifically.”

  Delegate Akhtari shot him a sharp look. “This has already been said.”

  “I repeat it, because the assembly has a right to know why this accusation was made. In fact, our delegation has made it clear we expect an answer today.” Accusatory pronouns now. “So tell me now, Delegate, and show us all the proof. Why is your silly and ineffective Nations of Earth accusing us of this deed?”

  Here it was, and oh, that us was polemic. Delegate Akhtari picked up the bell—

  Thayu recoiled—

  I gripped the edges of the dais. He was not going to bully me. “I am not at liberty to discuss the investigation.”

  “That’s because you don’t know.” Accusatory-you. “There is no evidence.”

  “Language!” Delegate Akhtari’s sharp voice boomed through the hall.

  Ezhya Palayi spread his hands in a melodramatic gesture of protest. “This man here does not answer our questions. How can we deny what we’re supposed to have done if there is no official accusation? If there is no proof?”

  “That is why I have appealed for this discussion to be delayed.” I turned to Delegate Akhtari. “Meanwhile, I think it would be beneficial, Delegate, if the establishment sign a statement for our president that no entity with gamra, including Asto, is responsible.”

  “I propose a vote on that,” someone shouted.

  Many thumped on the desks, not entirely for the right reasons, I feared. They thought Asto was guilty, and by demanding a vote, they would force Asto either to admit guilt, or to lie, and both had deep consequences for an entity’s entitlements within gamra.

  Delegate Akhtari rang her bell. “Quiet, Delegates, quiet!”

  Ezhya Palayi harrumphed, but gave a single nod and sat down. “We will have no trouble writing such a statement.” Anger oozed from those words. “Asto votes that it be sent as soon as possible.”

  There was some cheering in the back of the hall, and some grumbling, but no one said out loud that they thought Asto did have a hand in killing Sirkonen. This vote would put that issue to bed as well, I was sure, because whatever was said, I could see no way in which Asto would profit from a strike at Sirkonen, and many ways in which it would lose.

  Delegate Akhtari rang her bell. “Is the establishment
then in agreement to take a vote on this issue?”

  There was a lot of murmuring, but no protests.

  “Also note that by voting positive, Delegates will swear that their represented entity has no official involvement.”

  The desk screen in the dais went black. In golden letters flashed the text, Gamra Eysh’ zhamadata should send a statement denying all involvement of the establishment and its members in the murder of the leader of Nations of Earth.

  Underneath the question, clearly marked, each in its own box, were the two choices, for or against.

  I pressed for in my first-ever vote, one that would seal my own future. I cast glances around the hall, as if to spy what others were voting, but of course couldn’t see from my position at the speaking dais.

  The level of murmur rose again, until Delegate Akhtari rang the bell. “Three hundred and two delegates voted positive; five delegates negative. The vote is carried in favour of the positive. The establishment will arrange for a statement to be sent.”

  I blew out a breath of relief. I could find out later who the five nay voters were, but I half suspected they voted against the majority out of belligerence.

  The important one—Asto—had voted yes. That’s what mattered most to me. I didn’t know if that meant the attack on the Exchange was off, but the ball was back in Nations of Earth’s court.

  Next it was time for my historical presentation, which went well enough. I was so busy watching reactions that I stuffed up on some of the tables, but I doubted anyone noticed.

  “You’re a fool,” Thayu whispered to me when we walked back up to our box. “But a fool who defended himself well.”

  I didn’t miss the tinge of admiration in her voice.

  “Sometimes you just need to take a risk,” I said.

  Our eyes met longer than necessary.

  Next on the agenda were some technical discussions about improvements to the Exchange network, then a proposed amendment to the official definition of the term “refugee”, followed by a lengthy argument about raising prices for transfers.