Relic of Empire

by W. Michael Gear

  When she turned her longing gaze on him, he melted. “Mac, tell me what you want. If it’s to be left alone, I’ll do it. I don’t want to hurt you. “

  “Lovely lady, if I’ve controlled myself this far, I can go it a while longer.”

  “That’s what I want, Mac. Just be my friend until I can get back to Staffa. Help me sort this out-but not if my mere presence drives you mad.”

  Memories of Targa tugged at him, and he sighed. “Take the few good moments you get and savor them.”

  “You say that with a wistful sadness.”

  “I was remembering.... Never mind. The unfolding of events is never kind to us. I know how you affect men. I’ll keep in mind that it’s pheromones and be just fine,” he lied to both of them.

  Itteata had already disappeared in the wavering blue of the Twin Titans’ endless dance. The combined energies of the Companion fleet lashed the pulsing bursts of radiation with their reaction mass as bounceback collars tightened and the sophisticated computers refined acceleration parameters. With increasing acceleration, the fleet built mass for null singularity and time began to dilate as the monitors compensated for redshift. Under a constant forty-five g boost, the reactors labored while the ships’ artificial gravity generators compensated and protected fragile humans, computers, and structural components in an elaborate bootstrapping operation.

  Staffa sat in his command chair on Chrysla’s bridge, eyes narrowed as he gazed at the monitor which displayed the receding position of Itreata. How many times had he spaced thus, bent on conquest and death? How many times had he left Itreata and never looked back? What made this time different?

  He glanced over at the monitor where the rest of his fleet flanked Chrysla in her race for the stars. Once again the Companions spaced, and with them, on harpies’ wings of horror, rode death and destruction.

  Staffa swiveled his chair, to see the forward monitor. Out there, beyond Chrysla’s wedge-shaped bow, lay Rega, blissfully unaware of the hammer that now began to speed toward it.

  How many lives will you crush this time? How much suffering and waste will this inflict? Staffa struggled to blank the ghoulish eyes of the restless dead who haunted his dreams.

  Trapped ... he was trapped by Ily’s perfidy and Sinklar’s tactical brilliance. Sassa, despite any hopes to the contrary, had been defeated by Gyton’s single stroke. Myles might stave off starvation and collapse, but only by the shaving of a micron. With a feather’s puff, the bone and sinew of the Sassan Empire would slowly begin to pull asunder in an agonizing collapse.

  Sinklar would smell that weakness and exploit it with the ruthless efficiency of a sand tiger stalking a wounded kid goat. Tendrils of Ily’s corruption would immediately follow, powered by the information she’d pry out of Skyla with her drugs and torture.

  The only hope to ameliorate the destruction lay in an untested technology. And if that failed?

  “I will be forced to murder them all,” he whispered numbly. “And that will be my legacy to you, God.” Skyla ... Skyla. . . . A stitch pierced Staffa’s heart as he lingered over the memory of her startling blue eyes, cherished her cocky smile and the way the light sparked in her ice-blonde hair.

  Gone ... ripped away like solar wind around a frozen asteroid. He felt empty.

  Skyla’s absence, with the power of some heaviness in the very air, weighed on Staffa’s equilibrium. His usual clarity of mind had clouded, and a sense of despair possessed him.

  You know that the chances you’ll see her alive again are slim to none. The weary loneliness closed in, throttling, starving him of hope. But what else could he do?

  Skyla knows the stakes. She understands what you have to do. This thing has gone beyond the value of any single person, no matter how much you may love her.

  “Skyla, I’m so sorry.”

  The pain in his heart dug a little deeper.

  “Current investigations are underway to determine the effects of the Mikay impact on the planetary crust of Imperial Sassa. To date, emergency seismic stations have been established along the active interfaces of the major continental plates, but the data accumulated as of preparation of this report are inconclusive. Efforts, however, are underway to establish a viable predictive model which will integrate the various tectonic, geologic, hydrological, and seismic dynamics presently under investigation by Geosciences Department personnel.

  “it should be understood by all parties that severe deformation of the planetary crust has taken place along a major fault line. Not only did impact fracture the crust, but a matterIantimatter detonation occurred several kilometers below the ground surface when the Markelos’ reactors failed. While estimates are in preliminary stages, it appears that magma is rising in the crater and the isostatic crustal balance has been destroyed. Long-term implications are not favorable and evacuation of populated centers in areas of tectonic activity is recommended.

  “To date we cannot make an accurate assessment of potential negative impact to population centers, economic enterprises, property (personal or public), agriculture, industry, commerce, or public safety or health.

  “The above mentioned assessments will be undertaken pending the successful acquisition and compilation of appropriate data.

  “This action was initiated and implemented under Executive Order 11593 and conforms to all applicable Imperial, Planetary, and District rules and regulations.”

  · Report produced and distributed by Imperial Sassan Academy of Geology, Planetology, and Geosciences

  CHAPTER 25

  Sinklar walked into his palace bedroom and found Anatolia propped on the sleeping platform, preoccupation in her haggard eyes. She looked delicate and vulnerable in the middle of the silk-piled opulence of the bedding. Momentarily, Sinklar even forgot his gymnastic romps with Ily.

  He settled himself on the edge of the plush bed and stared absently at the gauzy hangings that draped down from the canopy. “I just ordered a couple of Sections from First Division to report to the palace. I talked to Mhitshul. He knows what I want in the way of security. “

  Anatolia nodded listlessly, a frown lining her high forehead. “Sink, it’s all happening too fast. I feel lost. One minute I was safely in the lab, involved in my studies. Then you blew in like a whirlwind and I haven’t had time to think since.”

  He flopped down next to her, hating the burning sensation of fatigue in his brain. His eyes had a gritty feel. The rest of him had gone numb. “I’m sorry. Listen, as soon as I can be sure you7re going to be safe, I’ll send you wherever you want to go.”

  She smiled sadly. “And where is that, Sinklar? Home? To Vermilion to help my father cultivate siva root? Ily’s tentacles reach that far-and beyond.”

  “I can keep all of you safe as soon as I can get a security team sent out. You can go with them if you’d like. “

  She shook her head. “No, Sinklar. Farming siva wasn’t what I wanted out of life. I love my father, don’t get me wrong. He did everything for me, but

  I’m not meant to be a farmer. “ She paused. “Once, out on the street, I swore that if I could just be delivered from the fear and terror, I’d pick siva forever and never complain. Looking back now, I know that’s not true. I survived out there. It was like crossing a threshold. I can’t go back.”

  “But I suppose you didn’t figure you’d get messed up in a political struggle either, did you?”

  “That wasn’t exactly on my agenda,” she agreed dryly. “But now that I’m in it, I guess I’ll just stick it out, see what comes of all this. “

  “I meant what I said about keeping you safe. I’ll find someplace where you won’t be-“

  “Forget it, Sinklar. “ She cocked her head, spilling shining curls over her shoulder as her sober gaze probed his. “I don’t want to go someplace and hide. I meant it when I said I’d stick it out-with you, if you’ll let me. Maybe I can do something, keep you sane if nothing else.”

  “Why? It doesn’t make sense. Ily will count you among the enemy. If
I lose, or if she gets her hands on you ......

  Anatolia gave him a humorless grin. “I watched you over the last couple of days. You’re a decent human being, Sinklar. Keep in mind, I catalog the corpses Ily sends in for disposal. It never really sank in before tonight. I’ve been thinking about Rokard Neru, about how he wasn’t a criminal. He was simply a person who got in the way. And suddenly I realized I was in the way, too. Given half a chance, I’d be on the slab for Vet to catalog. I’m still on the street, Sinklar. No matter what I’d like to believe. So the smart thing is to pick sides and fight it out.”

  “I understand.” He gave her a weary smile. “I’ll have to admit, I’m a selfish bastard. I hated the thought of sending you away. It’s been nice to have someone to talk to. “

  “What about if you win?”

  He rubbed his bloodshot eyes with a thumb and forefinger. “I’ve got to see that people like Ily, and all the ones like her, are destroyed with the Empire.

  People have a chance for once. I’m a social scientist. I ought to be able to design a system that works for the people. If it takes all of my life, that’s what I’m going to do.” He lifted an eyebrow inquisitively. “How about you?”

  “First I’m going to try and stay alive. After that, I’ll worry about what to do next.”

  “So what do you want? Just to do research for the rest of your life?”

  Her deep blue eyes narrowed and she rolled onto her stomach next to him, propped on her elbows, hands clasped. “That wouldn’t bother me a bit. I think I have a scientist lodged somewhere in my blood. Research is contagious. With each question you answer, another fifty are posed.”

  “Like me?”

  She gave him a wary, sidelong glance. “You ready to talk about that yet? Last time I broached the subject, you shied and turned very defensive.” At his silence, she added, “You know, don’t you? Or at least suspect.

  Sinklar swallowed against the sudden restriction in his throat. “You said there was no way I could have come from either Valient or Tanya?”

  She took a deep breath as if nerving herself. “I checked her, Sinklar. She never bore a child. There are telltale changes to the body. Her uterus never expanded. The pelvic bones, the pubic symphyses and sacral articulation to the innominates never softened. Scars form in vaginal muscles. In short, she couldn’t have been a surrogate mother. Her role socially, that’s something different. “

  “My biological mother came from Ashtan,” Sinklar repeated, closing his eyes. Had Staffa told the truth? “I can prove that. It’s your father who really intrigues me. “

  In a wooden voice, Sinklar asked, “He ... I mean, you said it was a strange genetic pattern.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “Did ... did you check for a Myklenian pattern?” “It would have registered. Sinklar, you’ve got to understand, your DNA is different, not just a variation. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Statistically, you shouldn’t exist. Now, do you want to tell me about this Myklenian connection?”

  He closed his eyes, trying to find an anchor in his drifting soul. Arta Fera was a clone-an artifically produced human being. Bruen said she was provided by the Praetor. A prickly sensation climbed Sinklar’s spine. And Bruen said he got me from the Praetor. Does that mean.... He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

  “Sinklar?” Anatolia’s hand settled on his arm. “Nothing. Listen. I need to think about this.” He hoped his misery wasn’t betrayed in his eyes. “Let’s get some sleep. We’ve been up for almost three days with only a nap here and there. We’ll talk about it again when we’re rested.”

  She nodded her agreement, but a new worry gripped her.

  Ily Takka’s heels clicked as she walked down the long hallway on the thirty-fifth floor of the Criminal Anatomical Research Labs. Her eyebrows raised slightly as she gave the women’s rest room a glance. The hallway was nondescript in every other way, just the average sort of square corridor with light panels spaced evenly overhead, synthetic paneling on the walls, and polished tile floor.

  Ahead of Ily, Jan Bokken hurried in a partial waddle, his duck-footed walk making a scuffling plop sound, his baggy clothing whispering. At first glance, Ily had disliked Bokken. Not that he seemed unsuited to his position-most of her people fit his general makeup-but he lacked that spark of initiative that would forever condemn him to supervisory status of a single building. He watched the world from heavylidded eyes, stroking his beard-shadowed jowls with thumb and forefinger; and Ily didn’t like men who wore perfume.

  “ Here is it,” Bokken said at last, pointing to one of a long line of doors. The sign overhead listed it as CENTRAL LABORATORY.

  Ily gave him a superficial smile and pushed the door open. Several of her agents stood along one wall while a thin man paced nervously back and forth in the aisle between equipment cluttered worktables.

  “Professor Adam?” Ily asked as the door closed behind Bokken.

  “Yes! Yes.” He started and seemed to recover some control. “What’s the matter? I don’t understand. I haven’t done anything.”

  Ily gave the man her ravishing smile, and walked forward to take his arm. “Oh, it’s not you, Professor. It’s one of your students in whom we’ve developed an interest. “

  ‘ ‘Pool? Look, the young man’s statements about the Seddi were his own. We do not condone, nor permit-“ , ,Anatolia Daviura,” Ily corrected, making a notation of Pool in the back of her mind.

  “Ana?” Adam seemed at a loss. “Oh, you mean she did something while she was absent during the riots?”

  ·“No, we’re interested in a project she was working on here. Could I see her workstation?”

  “This way.”

  Ily followed the man past shrouded equipment to the rear corner. There she found a desk and wall complex that contained a computer and microscope. Items on the desk looked as if they’d just been left a moment before.

  "Your Ana has a research file, something only you and she can access. I would like to see it, please.” Adam swallowed hard, his throat working. “I don’t

  like to invade my students’-“ :’Please!”

  ‘Yes, ma’am.” Adam slid into the chair, powering the system up, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. To the computer he ordered, “Provide a listing of Anatolia’s files, please.”

  “Access denied. Insert key.”

  Adam, slightly flustered, fiddled in his pocket, produced a ring of keys, and sorted through them. Finally he reached down and inserted his master into the cabinet by his knee and opened the drawer. At the same time, a list of files appeared on the directory.

  Ily bent down, pulling out reams of printout from the drawer. To her eyes,

  the long columns of numbers were meaningless. Nor did the headings have any relevance. “What is all this?”

  Adam squinted as he took the heavy printout. “Must be her project. Let’s see, yes, here. File 7355. It should be in the computer, too.” He promptly accessed and more of the endless streams of data appeared.

  “What does it mean, Professor. And tell me in simple terms I can understand. I’m not a scientist. “ Adam leaned forward, brow lined as he studied the

  data, his finger tapping the scroll key every so often. “Well, from a preliminary look, it’s a DNA coding study on inheritance.”

  “Inheritance? You mean genetic, correct?”

  “Yes. She’s comparing parental types with a single offspring. Nothing unusual here. We do this sort of.... Wait a minute, I’m into the F, now!”

  “F one?”

  “The offspring. F, stands for first generation. I don’t understand this.” He squinted at the data, head tilting slightly. “This doesn’t make any sense.” “)Nbat doesn’t?”

  He had pulled a laser pen, making notations on his comm. With the pen tip, he indicated a column of letters, Cs and Gs, As and Ts, in various orders and sequences. Little carets had been placed to mark segments of the pattern.

  “What you see here, Mi
nister, is a split screen comparison between two sections of the same human chromosome. The one on the left, the maternal, a segment of human chromosome 7-1. This growth allele is fairly standard as a benchmark-one of the common genetic patterns that all humans share. In this case, the order is correct. Now, compare what you see on the right half of the screen, the paternal, or human chromosome 7-2. The composition of the DNA should mirror the maternal, but it doesn’t.”

  “And why is that important?”

  Adam rubbed his jaw, attention absorbed by the diagram. “Because I’ve never seen this pattern before. “ -

  “Perhaps it’s some odd variation of-“

  “Minister, please.” Adam gave her a condescending look. “You stick to security, and I will stick to genetics. What I’m telling you is that no one has ever seen this allele before. Obviously it’s viable, or the F, specimen wouldn’t have developed past the zygote stage.” “Some sort of mutation?”

  Adam shook his head. “The chances of that are one in ten trillion. You must understand something. You don’t just mix DNA. The molecule is the blueprint for an entire organism. If you change something, say an adenine for a cytosine, the base code is changed. If, for example, that code produces a polypeptide chain which will form a muscle cell, the messenger RNA won’t deposit the proper amino acids in the right sequence for the muscle tissue. “

  At Ily’s blank look, Adam worked his fists and frowned. “All right, think of it like this. What if you changed a random piece of a computer program. Switched a 1 for an 0 in the binary of a program?”

  “It would depend on where it was in the programwhat command was affected. In the wrong place, it could destroy the entire software.”

  “Exactly. And human DNA is just like that, except we deal in quaternary instead of binary. See how devastating the effects could be? One point mutation-a switch of guanine for thymine, and the organism might not be able to metabolize a significant amino acid like valine. No valine-no polypeptide-no cell metabolism-no life. “

  Ily tapped her teeth with a thumbnail. “So, in other words, Professor, this Fl’s strange DNA isn’t human?” Adam’s brow knotted. “That’s the first assumption to make-but the problem is that it is viable. Someone, and I don’t know who, had to have been brilliant to create this. Look, see how it combines? The computations must have been mind boggling!”