by Paul Anlee
It was a tender kiss but it set his heart roaring. Her lips lingered briefly, a mere second that felt like a divine eternity. When she pulled back and looked at him, he knew he would move heaven and earth for her.
“Ahem.”
Stralasi whirled around. The adrenaline jolt sent his heart pounding. He would’ve fallen off the boulder and into the pond had Crissea’s grip on his hand not saved him.
Darak laughed.
Crissea frowned disapprovingly at first, and then even she was forced to giggle as Stralasi’s arms wheeled in a desperate attempt to regain balance.
“What are you doing here?” the Brother asked. He glared briefly at Crissea whose hand now covered those soft lips that had touched his a moment ago. Though her mouth was hidden, he could tell she was laughing, and at his expense.
“I’m sorry for laughing, Ontro,” she apologized. “But you almost jumped right into the water.” Another giggle escaped her lips.
Stralasi was less than amused. He crossed his arms and scowled at Darak.
Crissea attempted to look serious. “Darak, that wasn’t fair just popping in on us. I said I’d call when everyone was ready.”
“Yes, I apologize for that. I was listening in on your channel.” He held up his hand to forestall her objections. “I know, I know. I apologize for that, too. But time is of the essence. At any rate, when I saw responses flooding into your mail, I assumed it meant nearly everyone was ready.”
A look of reproach furrowed Crissea’s brow. Darak hurried to explain. “Don’t worry; I didn’t open any of the responses. I could see the traffic had peaked and dropped off. I figured almost everyone had checked in.”
Crissea’s eyes took on that distant look as she quickly scanned her own lattice. “You’re right,” she said. “Everyone’s gathered.”
She slipped down from the boulder, all business. “Come, Ontro. Duty calls.”
“Again,” grumbled an unhappy Stralasi as he clambered down.
“I am sincerely sorry,” Darak offered, “both for my impatience, and for the intrusion. The matter I wish to share is extremely important.”
“It always is,” Stralasi muttered.
The three of them set off along the path in silence. Crissea’s fingers sought Stralasi’s but he pulled away, half in anger and half in embarrassment. She was fairly certain a brief smirk crossed Darak’s lips in that moment. She chose to ignore it. Even for a women like her, who had lived hundreds of thousands of years, relationships could still be mysterious.
Between one step and the next, the trio was suddenly in the Amphi. Crissea stumbled in surprise at the sudden change in surroundings, but Stralasi stepped smoothly through the transition.
“He does that a lot,” Stralasi explained. “You’ll find it easiest to just ignore the surprise changes.” He made no mention of the fact he hadn’t laughed at her misstep.
Crissea noted his graciousness, anyway. She walked to the center of the Amphi as nonchalantly as she could and extended her arms. Viewing screens rose from the ground. Interested expressions of thousands of Coordina members from all over the ringworld looked back at them.
“Hello. You all recognize Darak Legsu of the Da’ark Triad. He has returned to us unexpectedly, so soon after his departure. I’ll let him tell his story.” Crissea gestured for Darak to proceed.
“Thank you. I am happy to see you all, and to visit Eso-La, as always,” he began. “I wish I had better news to relay. When Brother Stralasi and I left some days ago, we travelled to the far side of the Realm, to the system known as the tri-star.”
The audience gasped and murmured. The tri-star system was known in ancient times even to the founders of Eso-La.
Darak continued. “The tri-star’s unique formation drew me there eons ago. No equivalent triple sun system has been discovered anywhere in the visible universe. I established an observation station there, as well as an independent soltron detector to verify my readings from other stations throughout space.
“While you are assuredly familiar with the legendary tri-star, you may be surprised to learn a triple ringworld had been constructed around those stars. I was as surprised to learn this as you are, now.
“The rings were almost certainly constructed by Alum, yet Brother Stralasi and I had heard nothing of it during our stops in the Realm over the past months. I would expect such a marvel to be touted proudly everywhere. Billions of voices should have been rejoicing Alum’s magnificent achievement. But there was no word of it.
“So why would I ascribe this monumental feat to Alum? Well, because shortly after we arrived, an entire Wing of Angels surrounded us and made it impossible to leave the area without engaging them.”
The monitors filled with cross-talk as neighbors discussed the implications of taking on Angels in battle.
“I know most of you will be surprised Brother Stralasi and I are still alive to bring you this story.
“I assure you that even a Wing of Angels is no match for my capabilities. I chose to engage with them in the least destructive way possible, while trying to find a way to escape.”
Darak hung his head and his voice lowered. “Nevertheless, they aggressively pursued us, intent on capturing or killing us, I am not sure but I was not about to let them take us. It breaks my heart to say that thousands of my former brethren fell to my sword. Before I could make our way clear of their imprisoning fields, Alum elected to take an action that made my toll in battle pale by comparison. He destroyed the entire tri-star and surrounding ringworlds.”
The faces on the monitors conveyed astonishment. In a moment, realization set in, and their surprise turned to horror and disgust.
“The ringworlds were occupied by humans. I estimate some hundreds of billions of people died when the supernova shockwave tore their worlds apart.” He paused for a moment of silence. He looked miserable, dejected.
“Clearly Alum has decided nothing should interfere with his Divine Plan. He would casually discard the lives of billions, trillions even, to see it through. But, as horrible as this news is, it is not why I have come to see you today.
“I wish to ask you if I may remove the soltron detectors from the stations in this system. I believe a threat may be on its way to Eso-La and I need the stations to help me locate it.”
Crissea spoke the instant consensus of the Coordina: “They are yours to take; you have no need to ask our permission.”
Darak bowed graciously. “Thank you for your support. I will do my best to prove it well placed. You’ve heard me speak before of the Eater. It is an ancient anomaly, something that shouldn’t exist in this universe.
“Whatever comes into contact with the Eater is instantly absorbed, that is, removed from the universe of real matter. As matter is absorbed, it gives off exotic particles, which I call soltrons. My devices can detect these particles. Indeed, the entire array of soltron detectors is dedicated to sensing these particles. Collectively, they should be able to determine the location of the Eater to within thirty light years across the entire Realm.”
Darak checked the monitors to gauge if people were following him. “My most recent survey of the detectors indicated something strange. At first, I thought it was a simple anomaly affecting the data. The soltron detectors are old and the particle interaction with matter in our universe poorly understood.
“They suggested the Eater had suddenly changed location, possibly by millions of light years and accelerated to near light speed on a new course. At any rate, it wasn’t where I expected to find it.”
Crissea nodded. “I see. How can we help?”
“I’d like to move the detectors out along the projected path for the Eater so I can pinpoint its location and velocity.”
“The soltron devices are yours to use as you wish. Why do you seek our permission?”
“As a courtesy. My real reason for calling this meeting was to deliver a warning.”
Crissea’s calm demeanor gave way to concern. “A warning? What kind of warning?
”
“There’s no easy way to deliver this news. I believe the Eater has been targeted to intercept your world and destroy it. If my projections are confirmed, you may need to abandon Eso-La.”
24
Jared Strang finished an uncharacteristic AFTERNOOn of housecleaning minutes before his first guest arrived. On his way to the front door, he scanned the open-plan living area for anything he’d missed.
I can’t believe I’m nervous to have people over.
His apartment was large, stylish, and in a nice neighborhood, but he rarely had the time or the inclination to do more than a cursory tidying up. Adele always used to take care of these things.
Early on, the Administration had hoped the two of them would feel inclined to fill the unused bedrooms with young ones. They weren’t.
Their marriage had been coming unravelled for over a decade before the Vesta Project even began. The relocation to the asteroids, adjusting to new circumstances, and the long hours demanded by their different jobs in the colonies drove them even further apart as their separate ambitions led them to focus more on work than on their relationship.
Adele frequently complained how much she missed London and asked when they could return home. He still recalled clearly the first time, three years ago, when he told her there would be no going home, and when he finally confessed the real reason behind the desperate and hurried push to colonize space.
“You don’t get it, do you?” he’d screamed in frustration. “You can’t go back. Soon, there’ll be nothing to go back to, Adele. The Eater will destroy everything. Our only hope to survive at all is to stay right here on these asteroids,” he told her.
She’d left him in disgust and moved to Ceres One. “I can’t live with a man who would keep that kind of thing from me,” she’d said. “I thought we were done with all the secrets after the Norton Affair. You promised.”
She was right; he had sworn he’d never keep anything important from her again after that terrible time.
After Adele left, his job got too busy to concern himself with decorating the extra bedrooms. He threw a utilitarian desk and chair in one, and a weight machine and stationary bike in the other. Nothing else had changed in the three years since he last saw his ex-wife, the day they’d signed the final papers and gone their separate ways. She was still on Ceres, still designing furnishings for dwellings for people she’d never meet. Jared’s apartment was unlikely to ever hear the sound of children playing.
For reasons known only to the Leader himself, Alum had allowed Strang to keep his over-sized apartment when the YTG Church displaced the old regime. Likely too busy to bother with reassigning the place—he thought. Or maybe he holds out hope that Adele and I will get back together.
This evening’s meeting was the first gathering of the organizing committee of the new opposition party. Two of his guests sat with him on the new Governing Council as well, carryovers from the old Administration.
The doorbell sounded a second time before he reached the door.
“Good evening. Welcome,” he greeted his fellow old-Administration Council members. He seated them on the compact sofa and set three mugs of steaming coffee on the polished rock coffee table in front of them. Tonight was for serious business; they could drink stronger stuff on their own time.
His third guest arrived by the service elevator and had no need for coffee.
Jared sat opposite the sofa in his favorite rocker-recliner, his single nod to luxury in the entire apartment.
He called the meeting to order and reviewed the inherent hopelessness in their assignment: they had no name, no policies, and occupied different regions of the political spectrum.
“Collectively,” he said, “we represent the only hope for opposition to Alum and the new Administration. It will be expected of us to provide at least the semblance of an electoral race.”
“Why bother?” asked Jenny Thurgood, an environmental engineer who’d worked on balancing predator-prey populations in the agriculture tunnels. “I mean, even those with political ambitions in the Governing Council know there’s no point in running against Alum.”
“True enough.” Priyam Kaloor, Manager of Public Transportation for Ceres, agreed. “But all Council positions will be open. If we could find the right candidates, some strong contenders, we might be able to gain a toe hold. Even Alum must recognize the value of a credible opposition party.”
They shifted their attention to the fourth member of their meeting as if drawn by some collective recognition that, whatever they decided, they would need Cybrid support to achieve validity.
Though Cybrids hadn’t been an official part of the old Administration, their collective voice had always been heard and considered through the Project’s Director of Human-Cybrid Relations. Now that the Cybrids were cut off from having even informal representation, Strang was among the few who continued to seek Cybrid input. He wasn’t sure Alum realized the full extent of his consultations, or what their Leader would do if his interactions came to light. Admonish him? Fire him outright? Imprison him? It was hard to say, but he wasn’t inclined to stop consulting them now.
DAR-K hovered silently in a vacant corner of Jared’s apartment. Her spherical bulk imposed gravitas on the meeting. “I am here mainly in the role of observer and to aid in your analysis,” she said. “Strictly speaking, I’m not supposed to be in the city at all.”
“Luckily, my position allows me to find ways around that ridiculous law,” Jared replied.
“It’s only a matter of time before that loophole is also closed,” DAR-K replied. “I should make it clear that I’m here only because Jared asked me.”
“We’re not doing anything illegal by meeting like this,” Thurgood said. “It’s expected that other parties will form to challenge the election. We’re simply organizing an alternative party, not planning a revolution.”
“Difficult to say how it might be perceived,” Kaloor pointed out. “It depends on the level of government paranoia. The fact that Alum and the Council completely dominate the hearts and minds of the population doesn’t exactly make them immune to being unreasonably suspicious.”
The three humans looked to DAR-K for confirmation.
“For the moment, I think you’re safe. I would recommend keeping these meetings small and low key, though. It wouldn’t hurt to think of yourselves as an insurgency group. You must realize by now that you’re likely to be viewed as such by a good number of Alum’s followers. It doesn’t matter that the opposition party is sanctioned by Alum himself and important to the political process.
“For your own safety and for the security of the group, you may want to consider organizing along the lines of terrorist cells: no individual should have access to the full list of members and sympathizers until Alum proves his openness to democracy and freedom.”
Kaloor’s eyes went wide and he laughed. “You can’t be serious! If we start looking like a terrorist group, they’ll treat us like one.”
“That is a risk,” DAR-K admitted. “However, until you can announce the formation of the party at a large public forum, it’s a risk worth taking. I’m not sure how seriously Alum takes his own rhetoric.”
“Do you think he might have ulterior motives?”
“The election is four years away. He has a long lead time to consolidate his power base. I’m sure he’ll maintain the appearance of an approaching election through most of those four years. We are still in early days in the colonies. I think we would be wise not to fool ourselves into thinking civil society simply picked up and shifted out here to the asteroids.
“Had the original Administration and colonists still been in place, the transition to democratic rule might have been carried out smoothly. But this feels more like we’re heading for the establishment of a monarchy to me.”
“Alum as King and Emperor?” scoffed Kaloor.
“And Archbishop or Pope. State and Church, as one,” the Cybrid answered. “I simply advise caution until the actu
al election. For now, proceed as if Alum will stay true to his word.”
“Very well,” Strang jumped in. “In that case, we have two things we need to do. We need to pick a platform, and we need to come up with some candidates.”
“Do you think the Council is united behind Alum on his proposals?” Thurgood asked. “I mean, some of your old chums can’t be happy about the socialist leaning of his policies.”
“I haven’t had a chance to discuss Alum’s speech with Nigel Hodge yet, but I’m sure you’re right. His group was all about accumulating wealth and power, and consolidating a position of privilege. Alum’s policies will leave them gutted.”
“So what are they going to do?”
“No idea. What would you do if you were in their position? Would you sit on Council and be happy with the crumbs Alum leaves you? Do you try to find some way to change his mind? Or do you remove him?”
“Hard enough to remove a king,” DAR-K said from the corner, “let alone someone who’s become King and Pope combined.”
Thurgood nodded. “You’re right. It would be better for Nigel and his colleagues to act sooner rather than later, don’t you think?”
Jared nodded. “Except I don’t think anybody saw this coming. No one’s in any position to overthrow Alum right now. His timing is impeccable. He made his move while he still has everyone’s confidence and with no obvious contender to challenge him.”
“A revolution, then,” Thurgood suggested.
“No, I don’t think so,” DAR-K answered. “The colonies would fall apart without Alum leading them. Millions would die in any kind of civil war, maybe even the whole species.”
“Well, that would solve your problem, wouldn’t it?”Jared said to the Cybrid before he could stop himself.
“For the moment, we Cybrids have no particular problem. To us, Alum is essentially a benign dictator and we are his slaves. Our lives are basically unchanged from what they were in the old Administration. We are assigned work. We do our work, and in return we receive free energy and free maintenance. Our contributions feel meaningful; we help humanity to survive. If anything, our quality of life will improve now that we have Vacationland.”
