Imperial Night (Ashes of Empire, #3)

by Imperial Night (epub)

  “Fools, the lot of them, worthy of excommunication.”

  “I doubt I’ll find a two-thirds majority among the Brethren to excommunicate anyone, let alone a Loxias follower. Matters must take their course as they will, according to the Almighty’s plan.”

  Katarin scoffed. “Trust the plan? Is that it? I still remember a time, long ago, when you helped Jonas Morane force events and eliminated a threat against the Knowledge Vault. Where is the Sister Gwenneth who helped him push Rorik Hecht and the scheming former imperial nobles out of Lyonesse politics forever?”

  Gwenneth let out a soft sigh.

  “She’s older and considerably more tired. Look, I hope sanity will prevail. Speak with those you trust. Spread the word that the Lindisfarne Brethren’s path could end with another Yotai massacre if they’re not careful. And trust in the Almighty. At least get Marta out of her endless mystical trance so she can school the abbey on the risk of a future filled with fire and blood if we play secular politics again.”

  “Marta will intervene when it suits her and not before. If she intervenes. Look up the word unpredictable in the Encyclopedia Galactica. Her image will accompany the definition.”

  A scornful expression crossed Katarin’s face.

  “Very funny. This could trigger an existential crisis, Gwenneth. Loxias won’t stop at installing an abbess of his choice and declaring this the motherhouse. He wants a seat on the republic’s most senior councils.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Gwenneth’s voice cracked over Katarin’s head like a bullwhip.

  “Speak with Jonas Morane. You must warn him.”

  “How can I? A leadership review is an internal matter which doesn’t concern anyone outside the abbey, even if we know the motivations behind it. The Rule is clear on that.”

  “Bugger the Rule.”

  Gwenneth snorted. “That sounded exactly like something Loxias or his followers would say.”

  “If I weren’t a well-disciplined sister of the Order of the Void, I’d say something thoroughly impolite right now.”

  “Don’t hold back on my account.”

  “I’m holding back on the Order’s account, and because you’re my abbess, one which we cannot afford to replace with a sister whose gaze goes beyond the abbey’s walls.” Katarin exhaled loudly. “Bugger Loxias and the fools who follow him. Please let Jonas know what’s happening. He’ll keep our secrets while helping, or at least providing wise counsel.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Gwenneth’s eyes slid to one side as she considered, once again, the possibility of their sociopathy ‘cure’ being used for more nefarious ends by those intent on taking control of the republic. That was the one thing she couldn’t discuss with outsiders. Even Katarin was still unaware. So far, Mirjam and her assistants were staying well away from the Lindisfarne Brethren, in no small part because of their isolation in the Windies, where abbey politics seemed no more than a mirage on the horizon.

  But if another sister sat behind this desk and radically changed the Order’s path? Mirjam wasn’t a survivor of Admiral Zahar’s pogroms and didn’t have those soul-searing massacres imprinted on her deepest engrams. She, along with most of Loxias’ supporters, hadn’t seen with their own eyes what happened when the Order was suspected of meddling in politics.

  “While you do that, I’ll rally everyone with a shred of sanity, and we’ll stop this madness before it turns into an unmitigated disaster.” Katarin, eyes blazing with unexpected fervor, stood. “Surely, there’s more of us than there is of them.”

  “Do as you will. But keep in mind the words of a pre-diaspora statesman whose nation slipped into civil war. A house divided against itself cannot stand. If we draw battle lines between the Lindisfarne Brethren and those who don’t care a whit about secular governance, we might well split the Order in two with little chance of recovery.”

  A frown of concern creased Katarin’s forehead. “You sound defeated.”

  “Lately, I’ve wondered whether my time as abbess and leader of our Order is over, whether I represent a past that imprisons us.”

  “Then help choose a successor who believes we must give to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to the Almighty the things that are the Almighty’s. You of all people know theocracies never end well. Entire religions self-immolated on the pyre of theocratic rule to the point where no one remembers them nowadays, though they once numbered billions of faithful.”

  “I will do my duty and protect the abbey; you can be confident of that. But if the Almighty no longer wishes my service as abbess, then I shall no longer do so.”

  Katarin shook her head. “You go ahead and trust the Almighty. I’ll rally the troops. We’ll see who gets results. Believing there’s a divine plan is nice and well, but the Almighty gave us free will for a reason and hasn’t taken it away even though we misuse that gift, otherwise the empire would still be intact.”

  “Or Dendera’s madness and the empire’s destruction are part of the plan.” When Katarin made to reply, a wry smile softened Gwenneth’s features. “I know. You don’t believe in predestination, and I’m not sure about it myself since I’ve always enjoyed discussing the nature of causality. But I lack the energy for a debate as old as humanity right now.”

  — 23 —

  ––––––––

  “Mister President.” Defense Secretary Brigid DeCarde and Lieutenant General Adrienne Barca rose as the former’s executive assistant ushered Jonas Morane into her office. “We appreciate you making time for us.”

  “My agenda isn’t particularly full these days, and I always enjoy the brief walk here from Government House. Besides, my close protection detail can use the exercise. They spend way too much time sitting.” He dropped into a chair facing both women. “Now, what is it that couldn’t wait until my regular Friday night visit to the Officers’ Mess?”

  “Information from the abbey that will stun you.”

  “Gathered by the Intelligence Company’s irregulars among the university student body, no doubt?”

  Barca nodded.

  “Indeed. The Brethren are keeping a lid on word spreading beyond the abbey walls, but Gwenneth faces a formal leadership review in a few days.”

  An air of disgust crossed Morane’s face. “Loxias and those infernal Lindisfarne Brethren, am I right?”

  “You are. That they found enough support to force a leadership review worries us.”

  “A shame they’re attacking the woman whose force of character pulled them through those tough, early years on Lyonesse. But Gwenneth will soon turn ninety, and as I mentioned a few weeks ago, dealing with political shenanigans is taking a toll. I’m not convinced she was overly pleased when they reappointed her the last time.” Morane shrugged. “At this point, the leadership review is an internal matter for the Order alone and none of our business. But if a sister from the Lindisfarne Brethren replaces Gwenneth and shows more than just a passing interest in secular politics, we’ll pay close attention.”

  “Our thoughts precisely,” DeCarde said. “We can’t let mind-meddlers interfere with the proper governance of the republic as mandated by our constitution and the will of the people.”

  “I doubt it’ll go that far. None of the Brethren who came to Lyonesse from other parts of the old empire ever served in the Lindisfarne star system government. The Order as it is here, today, has no institutional memory of running anything more than a monastic house.”

  Barca made a dubious face. “Not having an institutional memory doesn’t exclude yearning for a return to a more glorious past.”

  “They should round up those troublesome friars and make them build a monastery on Isolde,” DeCarde grumbled. “That would take care of their ambitions and yearnings.”

  “At least they stopped recruiting male postulants. Other than reformed exiles, that is, and they don’t count since they’ll never leave the Windi
es, meaning the problem will eventually solve itself when the surplus retires or passes on.”

  DeCarde scoffed. “But in the meantime, Loxias and his crew can cause a lot of mischief. What’s the old saying? Idle hands are the devil’s workshop? Ironic, isn’t it.”

  “Only if the Brethren choose an abbess who’s under the man’s thumb should they vote Gwenneth out, and if I’ve learned anything about the Order of the Void over the years, it’s that the sisters are in charge, period. The friars make sure the abbey and the priories function on a day-to-day basis. They don’t make policy, let alone decide what path the Order takes.”

  “Yet the friars governed an entire star system and might still do so if Lindisfarne survived the empire’s collapse,” DeCarde pointed out.

  “Under the overall direction of the Order’s Summus Abbatissa, who laid out the colonial government’s policies.”

  A smirk twisted her lips. “You’re determined to make us think this leadership review isn’t a big deal, aren’t you?”

  “Because it’s not a big deal for anyone outside the Order. Yet. But I think I’ll speak with Gwenneth nonetheless, though she won’t thank me for prying into abbey affairs.”

  “That’s what we hoped you might do.”

  Morane cocked an amused eyebrow at DeCarde.

  “You want Gwenneth to reassure us the republic is not in danger of a theocratic takeover? I doubt the abbey’s policy of sticking to spiritual matters and good works in the community will change. But I’ll suggest the Order consider establishing a friars-only house on Isolde. If nothing else, she might find humor in the idea.”

  “Thank you. I’ve never trusted the mind-meddlers. For the longest time, they didn’t confirm rumors sisters can sense the emotions of others, the reason they’re sisters in the first place. What else did they not tell us? Imagine a world where their sort can influence politicians with no one being the wiser.” DeCarde shook her head.

  “We already live in that world, Brigid. Except they’re called lobbyists who use flattery, favors, and donations to influence policy, which is mind-meddling of another sort.” He winked at her. “While I’m here, anything new on Standfast?”

  “She’s what we wanted and more. The shakeout cruise has brought no major issues to light. Minor ones, sure, but that’s normal. Hecht Aerospace did a superb job.”

  “They also received a superb payment. When’s her first wormhole transit?”

  “Tomorrow,” Barca replied.

  “Hopefully, it will go smoothly. Maiden wormhole transits have a way of making design flaws glaringly obvious. Still, since she already pushed into the upper in-system FTL bands during her shakeout, they know about hidden problems, especially those related to hull integrity.”

  “They red-lined her three days ago on two ten-hour jumps. No issues.”

  “Then I’d say that’s a good omen.”

  **

  “How did you find out? Or should I not ask?”

  “About what?” Morane gave Gwenneth a penetrating stare as she slipped into the booth across from him. He’d invited her for a late lunch after leaving DeCarde’s office, and she, like Morane, was a lifetime member of the Lannion Base Officers’ Mess. In her case, it was for services rendered as the first Defense Force Chaplain General in the republic’s early days.

  “The leadership review.” She glared at him. “Why else would you ask me here with no warning on a random Wednesday? Normally, you wait for one of my weekend escapes from the abbey to question me about private matters concerning the Order.”

  “Guilty as charged, Summus Abbatissa.”

  The despair that briefly crossed Gwenneth’s face made her seem twenty years older for a fleeting moment. “Please, Jonas. Not you too.”

  “Little remains secret for long on Lyonesse. It may be a big planet, but our human community isn’t much more than an overgrown village by comparison. Yes, I invited you so we could talk about the leadership review Loxias and the Lindisfarne Brethren rammed through. Some of us wonder what it means for the future of the Order vis-à-vis the republic.”

  “Well, thank you for coming straight to the point, Jonas.”

  If Morane didn’t know better, he’d think her tone and words held a sharp edge of exasperation.

  “We’ve been friends for too long, Gwenneth. Anything less than complete honesty between us would be improper.” He nodded at the buffet table. “Shall we fetch our meal before discussing the matter?”

  She inclined her head. “Certainly, though thinking about Loxias is doing wonders to keep my calorie intake down these days.”

  They sampled the remaining cold dishes moments before the mess staff, who’d been waiting for the president and his guest, closed the buffet now that the midday meal hour was over.

  Gwenneth took a bit of smoked fish and let out an appreciative if soft groan. “I really should send the abbey cooks here for a stint so they could learn from the mess’ head chef.”

  Morane snorted. “You say that almost every time we sample the mess cuisine, but we’re still waiting for you to act on the notion.”

  “Mostly because my cooks would mutiny if I even hinted they weren’t as skilled as their military equivalents.”

  “And yet you face a mutiny nonetheless, or something similar.”

  She let out a heartfelt sigh. “Loxias and his faction are acting under the Order’s Rule. I cannot deny them the leadership review because they drummed up enough support among the Brethren. There’s no mutiny involved.”

  “Figure of speech. They don’t like your policies, and since you won’t change them, they’ll remove you. That’s not much different from a mutiny in the naval sense. Of course, your lot is doing it under a cloak of legitimacy, however thin, because of the Order’s Rule.”

  “Contrary to the Defense Force, the Order of the Void is a limited democracy where the rank and file can remove their general or admiral with a simple vote. My opponents will make their case before the assembled community, I will present my rebuttal, and the Brethren will decide.” She put down her fork and sat back. “Frankly, I’m not even sure I can find the energy to oppose Loxias. I’ve been abbess longer than most I’ve seen in my decades with the Order. Retirement is increasingly appealing. I could easily spend the rest of my life in quiet contemplation, perhaps occasionally helping the teachers and, if asked, be a wise elder and counsel my younger sisters.”

  “You’re in excellent health. That retirement could easily turn into thirty years without a firm purpose. A quarter of your lifespan.”

  Gwenneth chuckled.

  “Irony, thy name is Jonas. I could say the same about you. Except you’re younger than I am and could easily face forty or fifty years without a firm purpose once your term is up. I suppose it’s tragic in the sense that you entered the highest office in the republic at a relatively young age. You’ve nowhere left. Sure, you could make a post-retirement career offering your wisdom to whoever asks, but let’s face it, most would find the prospect overly intimidating. You are the father of the sacred Knowledge Vault and the man who made sure Lyonesse survived the empire’s demise.”

  “Granted. But we’re speaking about you and the Order’s future, not me. Besides, I’m in discussions with Brigid DeCarde and Adrienne Barca to create a Defense Force Command and Staff College after the next election.”

  “Don’t worry about me, let alone the abbey. Yes, we’re blessed with a greater proportion of friars than is usual, which accounts for the restlessness of the most ambitious, since there aren’t many senior leadership positions open to men. But sisters still outnumber friars by a wide margin, and I daresay a plurality, if not a majority, are content with the status quo. My ouster as abbess is far from being a certainty.”

  “Good to hear. But I worry about what might happen if a sister who agrees with Loxias replaces you, whether next week or in ten years. And I’m not alone. If your friars become involved in p
olitics, things might turn sour between the republic and the Order because you’ll be suspected of using your secretive and mystical talents to influence government policy.”

  A sigh escaped Gwenneth’s thin lips.

  “I know, and I remember Pendrick Zahar’s destruction of the Order in the Coalsack Sector on suspicion of involvement with imperial authorities, as do the others who survived. But by now, the Brethren rescued from other sectors or who joined on Lyonesse outnumber us. I’ve made that point to Loxias and his closest followers, without much success. I’ll make it again when I face the entire community at the leadership review. After that, it’ll be in the Almighty’s hands.”

  “Trust in his plan, is that it?”

  She raised a restraining hand. “I had that very discussion with Katarin yesterday, and I’m not in the mood for a repeat.”

  “Fair enough. If the Brethren declare Lyonesse the Order’s motherhouse and make you the Summus Abbatissa, that’s an internal matter which doesn’t concern the republic. I’ll send you my official congratulations. But since you’re already invited to major state events as it is, taking on the title of top abbess won’t change anything with the way the citizenry regards you or the Order.”

  “Loxias wants more than that. He wants the abbess to sit on councils of state as a co-equal with the cabinet and the legislature.”

  “Of course he does and it wouldn’t surprise me if he found supporters both within the government and among certain segments of the population.”

  A frown creased Gwenneth’s forehead. “Why?”

  “The Order has a lot of admirers out there who wouldn’t think twice about giving it a greater say in how the republic is run. And some people are still unhappy our constitution established a unicameral legislature whose members aren’t beholden to political parties. That makes it harder for special interests who want to influence policies and legislation behind closed doors so the voters can’t overhear them. Adding a player would give those special interests another avenue of approach. I’m sure the Order of the Void isn’t immune to a bit of friendly backscratching. I’ll wager one of your predecessors negotiated quite an understanding with the reigning emperor and his government when they gave her the Lindisfarne star system, and it probably wasn’t spiritual in any way, shape, or fashion.”