Mavec left the rail and walked back to Alexander. “Surprisingly, there were many completely Terran ideals to draw from, not the least of which was Alexander’s example of a true multicultural empire. We ensured that Greek and Egyptian philosophers, magistrates and artisans found their way into Rome. An empire grew from Roman ingenuity and their extreme desire for order. In the span of a few centuries it encompassed most of Alexander’s former empire.”
Mavec sighed and returned to the rail. “There was a time when it seemed we achieved what we sought. Yet despite the massive Galactic effort Rome was a completely Terran city, and a Terran empire. Terrans are an adolescent race. While the ideals of Rome drew them, their attention was soon diverted to the possibility of using Rome’s power for gain. The security provided by Rome’s legions became a tool for expansion, glory and conquest. New names arose amongst histories generals, all vying to be the heir of Alexander. For a time, even in its distinctly Terran flavor Rome was a stabilizing factor in Terra’s progression.”
“Yet then Rome slipped into sloth and greed,” She-Rok said. “The Empire fell, and it took Terra into darkness and barbarism.”
“We failed,” Mavec admitted. “When the Roman Empire was no more, we accepted our defeat, and relegated the uncontrollable, unalterable Terrans to strict Scythian quarantine.” Mavec turned her luminous eyes on the Hrang, and added, “Yet like the Roman experiment, the quarantine of Terra was not handled exactly as we envisioned.”
“Rome was not such a failure as you might think, Mavec,” She-Rok said, joining Mavec at the rail. Less morose and more practical than his counterpart he could conjecture dispassionately. “Even the Terrans, from Scythian report, glorify their version of our city. I do not think it was a mistake for us to found it. It was a risk, but not so much of one. The Terrans had already proven themselves capable of prolonged empires by that point in their development, and even of idealism. Rome was meant to harness the constructive energies of a potentially dangerous race within a carefully constructed framework which would promote order, prosperity and mutual respect. In many ways it was successful.”
“Rome still failed, She-Rok,” Mavec said sternly. “It was successful so long as it followed the Galactic model and was not too Terran. That was our mistake. We did not realize that so far as the Terrans are concerned the legacy of Alexander is all consuming. Alexander touched a nerve in their psyche; his philosophy still resonates after two millennia.
“How long did Rome last before a warlord seized power intent on following in Alexander’s footsteps, two, maybe three centellia? In the end Alexander’s will held sway. Despite all the advantages we offered the Terrans turned Rome into a more efficient and vastly more superior destructive power. We would have been better served to leave well enough alone.”
“Perhaps, but I still do not accept our complete failure,” She-Rok replied. “In many ways Rome has served to mentor the Terrans into our systems of law, citizenship and morality. These are apparent, even if they are not dominant. We have, I admit, failed to change the core Terran philosophy of cosmic domination. That may be too much to expect, however. Alexander is as much a legend to his own folk as he is to us. It is difficult to change the words of your once and future lord. The Terran situation, for better or worse, is set. The Terrans have their dreams of galactic conquest, but they cannot reach us, yet. The Scythians still hold the keys to Terra’s shackles. Without the ability to leave their planetary system the Terrans are dangerous only to themselves, and they may very well succeed where we fear to tread. The last centellium has been very encouraging!”
“Encouraging?” Mavec exclaimed. “She-Rok, what is encouraging about it? They’ve progressed from a planet bound people to the outer reaches of their solar system in less than half a centellium! When has another culture in the known galaxy presented us with such volcanic technological growth? Two centellia past they used beasts of burden for transport! Even given the technological capability to match such growth we could never adapt to it. Galactic culture and its technology are linear. We change with exquisite sloth. Our technology has remained at an equivalent level not only through the last age, but three hundred millennia prior to the Chem Wars of Expansion. I cannot even fathom such growth, such chaos. How can we know what to expect?”
“We do not need to know, so long as the Scythians’ keep the Terrans where they belong.”
“The Scythians, Terra’s ever-present keepers and protectors,” Mavec said, her angular face framing an expression as close to a smile as her demeanor would allow. “Whenever Scythia desires a new trade agreement, lower tariffs, or anytime there is a resolution in the Senate protesting Scythian ownership of extra-empire commercial interests the Scythians threaten us economically. With their vast holdings in financial institutions and their monopoly on trade we cannot answer their demands in an equivalent manner. The only recourse we have is military. We have a great stigma against using force as an instrument of policy, but even considering we deemed such a horrendous step necessary there is always Terra to stop us. In recent history both the Seer’koh and the Golkos threatened the Scythians only to retreat under threat of unleashing the Terrans. It is stupefying and simple: if any state threatens Scythia, they will unleash Alexander and his legions upon the galaxy. What recourse do we have then? We accede, and thereby feed the bloated Scythian juggernaut, making our position all that much more untenable.”
Mavec pounded her slight fist on the marble rail in a rare expression of emotion. Her voice was bitter. It was a marked departure from her diplomatic demeanor.
“They are remarkably adept at reminding us of that particular bit of blackmail. They have Terra, and the Terrans wait upon them for their opportunity. Terrans are nothing more than Scythian mercenaries, but even in that they present their keepers with a deadly danger. Though they prod us with a Terran threat, could the Scythians actually control the Terrans once they were loosed upon the galaxy?”
“Certainly not,” the Hrang said with steadfast certainty. “Greed and profit drive the Scythians, but they are not fools. They have a wonderfully developed sense of self protection. I would think, and all our observations support this theory, that the Scythians would do almost anything to avoid an actual relationship with Terrans which might lead to their expansion into the galaxy. They are far too dangerous.”
“I do not disagree with you, She-Rok, but still I wonder just how far they are willing to push that particular bluff. I wonder whether we have the strength and fortitude to actually answer such a possibility.”
Mavec sighed, gazing down into the pinnacle of galactic civilization: the pit of the Senate. Normally she would recall with pride their accomplishment of ordered civilization, for here even amongst the layer upon layer of galactic intrigue even age old enemies like the Chem and Golkos met with civility. Passions remained, but they didn’t interfere with the workings of the galactic bureaucracy. She looked about the Senate at members of the twelve civilized cultures, seeing in them a growing homogeneity. True, they still considered themselves members of twelve separate empires rather than citizens of a single galactic entity, but there were certain inarguable ideals which bound them all together.
“I wonder She-Rok, for all that Roma and our Galactic Senate have accomplished, have we succumbed to the inevitable apathy of success? For thirteen millennia we’ve been at peace. Precious little has changed in technology, customs or people.”
She-Rok shrugged, and joined her at the rail. “You’re right, of course. Peace on a galactic scale for such an extreme period of time allows for unprecedented prosperity, but there is always a price. Expansion and exploration ceased as our cultures recovered from the catastrophic wars. When normality returned stagnation came with it, and matters of debate are now relatively petty. No one is willing to risk war for pride or policy.”
A loud gong sounded in the cast chamber. All eyes turned to the center of the Senate pit where a huge holographic image brightened. It showed the graven features of the Pre
sident of the Senate, a Golkos. His voice instantly commanded the attention of the audience.
“My fellow Senators an event is transpiring in our galaxy that has not happened in decands. Fate stands upon the knife’s edge. The next few moments will write history. Behold!”
Mavec moved to the rail, and She-Rok was right beside her. She waited impatiently for the face of the President to fade, and the follow on image to clear. There was some problem with the transmission, as if it were being beamed from some remote corner of the galaxy.
“What in the world can this be about, do you know anything She-Rok?”
“On my word, I’m as surprised as you Mavec.”
The image cleared to the view of a single planet, blue and white, floating like an iridescent marble in a sea of velvet.
“This day on Terra history is being made,” the President said gravely. The scene narrowed to a gathering of thousands of thousands of Terrans, their voices raised in a deafening roar. The Senate shook.
“By the stars, they’ve discovered the heir of Alexander!” Mavec breathed.
CHAPTER 4: The Terran Gambit
The hologram in the central pit of the Senate panned down to the scene below the enormous crowd—it was a green field painted with parallel white lines. On one side of the field was a group of gladiators in purple, on the other side and equal group in white.
Mavec and She-Rok sighed with relief. The Kempec felt as if she could breathe again; indeed, so terrible was the moment of anticipation that her chest hurt with a sharp cramp.
“I invite you all to enjoy the first session of overtime warfare in the pinnacle of gladiatorial games: the Super Bowl!”
She-Rok cursed, “Damn him, I was going to watch this after today’s session—now it’ll be ruined for me! Minnesota and Pittsburgh are playing, the Vikings are my team and they’re going for their first Super Bowl since the days of Alexander the Great.”
Mavec looked at him in amazement.
“Not the true Alexander, of course,” She-Rok smiled. “This was a defensive tackle that played for the Vikings, I don’t know, maybe fifteen periums past. He was a joy to watch, absolutely ferocious to the core—but somehow honorable. He was the Most Valuable Gladiator in their only win. They haven’t been back to the Super Bowl since.”
“How ironic is it that we now find our entertainment amongst the very people we’re deathly afraid of,” Mavec sighed, watching the contest because no matter how terrible it was she was fascinated by it. Not only was she mesmerized by the spectacle, every member of the Senate put aside their business to watch the gladiators.
It was a damning sight. Mavec knew that her people, whether they be Chem, Golkos, or Kempec were not the people of an age past. They’d lost their edge, and it was obvious every time they beheld that most immature and fascinating species, the Terrans. True, Terrans were barbaric, single minded, and utterly without compassion, but there was a ferocious love of challenge which she could not help but admire. Terrans dared to live, always changing the rules by which they existed; Terrans challenged the very universe to keep up with them.
Mavec knew with a profound sense of loss that her people had no such aspirations. The Galactics discovered long ago that singular formula for living within the universe, and their intention was not to stray from it whatsoever.
“Damn!” She-Rok cursed, as one of the players in white kicked the football through the white uprights of the goal posts. “Lost again—they should really send the kicker for Minnesota to Pantrixnia! Ah well, at least they made a game of it this time. Unfortunately, I’m not nearly as adept at picking my gladiatorial teams as I am at political intrigue. The Vikings haven’t won since the days of Alexander. I wonder whatever happened to him.”
“I can’t imagine why I would care,” Mavec said. She couldn’t get away from the fascination of Terrans quickly enough. “Whatever became of that particular gladiator can’t be nearly as inauspicious as what’s going on in the pit below—look.”
The match was over, and business returned to normal.
The Scythian ambassador approached Nazeera of Chem. The Chem kept an ambassador in Rome. It was a traditional role, for the Chem as a rule offered little advice and asked for none at all. Recently, however, the Scythians had been pushing the Chem to open their borders. The people of Terumaz, the old galaxy’s proudest and sternest people, sent a member of their Triumvirate in response to the amazing solicitation. Nazeera of Chem, tall, powerful in mind and manner and honorable to the core of her being, answered only to the venerable Elder of Chem. She came to Rome to discover why the Scythians should make so bold a request, and then to issue a final inevitably negative response.
Mavec liked Nazeera, and admired her for her steadfast resolve. As she suspected, Nazeera’s review did not take long, and she rejected the Scythians’ out of hand. The Chem, she told them, had no need of Scythian trade and no desire to open Chem space to Scythian convoys. With that issue resolved Nazeera felt the subject was closed irrevocably, but the Scythians apparently thought otherwise. For the past several decands the Scythian ambassadors poked and prodded other Ambassadors, including Mavec, trying to gain support for their cause. The endorsements were half-hearted at best, but as Mavec told them in her steady diplomatic voice, “While we are sympathetic to your over all goals the Chem are, after all, the Chem, and my people are not willing to openly antagonize the people of Terumaz.”
It was a veiled reference to the Chem’s more militaristic but still recognizable past. Frustrated, the Scythians upped the ante, actually including the reminder of Terra in their dialogue with their fellow ambassadors. They did not use this tact directly with the Chem, for who could know how the Chem would react to such outright threats? The intent got to the Chem anyway, even as intended. The result was inconclusive, but it was obvious that the Chem did not like what the Scythians were saying at all.
This was the cause for Mavec’s concern. The slight Scythian in drab gray-green stood out in stark contrast to the exotic Nazeera, dressed as she was in her ceremonial armor. The Chem planted her long nailed fists on comely hips, daring the Scythian to interrupt her privacy, but the slight being approached nonetheless and addressed her. Mavec couldn’t hear the conversation itself, she didn’t need to. She shook her head in the universal gesture of disapproval, muttering, “Here we have a scenario which fleshes out the difficulties we have been speaking of She-Rok. The Scythians of pre-Alexander days would not consider breaching Chem isolation for any reason. Yet here they are, and quite sure of themselves, mind you. Nothing good can come of this.”
“Indeed, Kvel Mavec, you appear struck with apprehension at the sight of our Chem and Scythian friends in parley. The Kempec are well renowned for their skill in diplomacy. Why would you be dissatisfied with dialogue?”
“No doubt you already know the answer to your query, She-Rok,” she chuckled nervously. “Should I disappoint you with the truth or allow you to gauge my opinion with your misconceptions. What do you think?”
“The truth is always more fascinating than the most fanciful supposition, my friend, and I hope you will not rob me of the pleasure. In this case, however, your distress is not unique, either to the Kempec or to yourself, Mavec. I would not be surprised if we shared many of the same concerns regarding the Scythians. Therefore, I have no objection to opening my mind to you, in exchange for your honest opinion, if such is the price.”
“You need not buy my honesty, She-Rok. I will tell you plainly and bluntly my opinion: the Scythians are overplaying their hand. I can see nothing good coming of this.”
“Have you informed the Scythians of your opinion? After all, you know the mind of Nazeera of Chem perhaps better than any other politician, or have I been misinformed? Rumor has it that you’ve been heavily tasked these last decurns to ease the growing tensions between the two states.”
“Your information is quite correct, as usual, She-Rok. Unfortunately, the facade which you see before us—the Chem and the Scythians in ratio
nal dialogue—is just that: a facade and nothing more. The Scythians have told me repeatedly that although they appreciate my efforts they are their own best counselors. I was cautioned in the most strenuous way not to interfere with their negotiations and especially not to build a consensus decrying the Scythian attempts in Chem.”
“Indeed? I assume that the Kempec government conveniently found itself content to be of any use it could for the Scythians. After all, when seventy-five percent of your trade and sixty-three percent of your financial institutions are controlled by the Scythians you must take care not to tread on their all too delicate toes.”
“Your data and your assertions are unfortunately accurate, She-Rok. It is all the more distressing when we represent the status quo as far as Scythian influence is concerned. It presents us with a very difficult problem, and we have precious little capacity to affect the outcome. On one hand the Scythians are steadfast in their contention that Chem must at the very least open routes through their space for Scythian traders, if not open up their empire to free trade. That the Chem shall never do, they prize their privacy most jealously.”
“There is no compulsion whatsoever for the Chem to deal with the Scythians,” She-Rok added. “They are unique among the civilized cultures in that they have no need of the Scythians. They did not need Scythian aide to rebuild after the wars and are thus completely autonomous. The Scythians, of course, would like to change that slight oversight. There are vast markets in Chem, or at the very least, if they win free passage that would improve the efficiency of their freighter traffic by approximately thirty-five percent. That would be pure profit.”
Alexander Galaxus: The Complete Alexander Galaxus Trilogy Page 3
