Rhythm of the Imperium

by Jody Lynn Nye

  “Ignore them,” Proton said. “They are impressed by very small things.”

  “I will,” Low promised. But privately, it liked the acclaim. It was flattered, although it knew it shouldn’t be. They had no means of understanding the depth of what the Zang did. Still, it was hard not to like the effusion of praise. Low got nothing similar from its fellows. They always debated every facet of an action. Their encouragement always felt conditional. The Kail were different. They thought it was important! They showed admiration. In fact, it planned to adopt these creatures as pets. But Low had better demonstrate why their admiration was deserved. “But it does no harm to listen to them. I am curious.”

  “Beware of what you hear,” Zang Quark said.

  One Zang pushed them all away with a wave of friendly energy. “Let the young one enjoy the attention. What is coming is a big moment, its first true performance piece. Come. I would survey the planetoid from close by. Are you coming, Low Zang?”

  “Yes,” Low said, but it stayed as the three Kail surrounded it, emitting their adoration. Such waves were so pleasurable, it found departing from them difficult. Like the others, it reached out tendrils of its extended body in the direction of the small sphere, although it had examined the planetoid again and again while making its choice. It was determined to do the best job possible. It sent a wave of less than 10-24 back toward the Kail. Especially for the sake of those who admired it.

  “It’s working,” Phutes said, dropping his voice to the register that the Kail used among themselves. “Yesa will be pleased. Plan 10 is falling into place! She will have her vengeance!”

  “It heard us and responded,” Mrdus said. He stared at the Zang. “I never thought this moment would come!”

  “Yesa was right,” Sofus insisted. “We only misunderstood how to approach it.”

  “And which Zang to approach,” Phutes said. “She knew about Proton, but it is Low Zang who is concerned for our well-being. We offer our respect to you, Low Zang,” he added, raising his voice to the highest pitch. He began to move around it again, emphasizing his pleasure and devotion. The small female raced to catch up with him.

  “All right, you have to leave now.”

  “We must stay,” Phutes insisted. “We need to speak further with Low Zang.”

  “No. It can’t talk to you right now,” she said. She reached for his arm. Offended, he pulled it away from her grasping fingers. “It has to prepare. It’s doing its best to concentrate on creating this exhibition. You’re distracting them. I can show you where you can wait until it’s ready. How about that? You have to be patient.”

  “No!” Phutes said, his tone rising. It loomed over the female. She stood her ground. Phutes withdrew, stopping short of actually touching her. “We do not have to be patient. We must stay with the Zang.”

  “Yes, you do have to be patient,” Laine said. “This is an unbelievably complex calculation they have to perform. You’re interfering with it.”

  “Dr. Derrida! There you are!”

  Humans, wearing uniforms like those of the Imperium Jaunter but in a different color wavelength, dark gold tunics and deep blue trousers, approached them. Phutes counted 10100 in their number. Their leader, a large male with deep brown skin, embraced the small female. She pressed her face to his, and emitted an audible smacking noise. Phutes shuddered at the thought of contact between two bags of slime. The female’s voice rose high.

  “Colonel Hoyne! How lovely to see you!”

  “Great to have you back,” he said. “How’s it been going?”

  “Very interesting,” Dr. Derrida said. “The Zang demolished a world a few months ago in a way that you’d have found amazing.”

  “You never notified us to join you.” Hoyne’s face contorted again.

  “No, I didn’t get to see it. It was a trial run for Low Zang, here. Proton and I were halfway across the galaxy, checking in on some winged mammals it likes. I got the impression from the waves it received from the others that they’d tried something new.”

  “I see there’s five Zang now instead of four.”

  “Amazing, isn’t it? We’re seeing the evolution of a new artistic conclave. I’m going to have to write a paper on it after all this is over.” She shot Phutes a look of annoyance. “If it ever gets going.”

  “Are these Kail bothering you, ma’am?”

  “It’s not me that’s the problem,” she said. “Low Zang needs to concentrate. It’s leading this event.”

  Hoyne’s face distorted. He gestured, and the humans surrounded Phutes and his siblings.

  “All right, my friends, let’s go. I’ll show you where the other Kail are waiting. We brought them all on board a little while ago.”

  “We are not moving from here! Tell them, 111.”

  “I am translating simultaneously,” NR-111 assured him. “Colonel, the Kail have urgent business with the Zang.”

  “And thousands of people have come all this way to see the spectacle,” Colonel Hoyne said. “You can talk with it later, after it’s all over. Come this way.”

  “We are not moving,” Phutes insisted again.

  In answer, the humans raised translucent weapons and pointed them.

  “Not more slime!” Mrdus cried.

  “We don’t have to use these,” Hoyne said, in a low tone he no doubt meant to be soothing. “Don’t you want to see the rest of your people?”

  “Our people?” Phutes asked. “Are they safe? Untouched by you creatures?”

  “Yes. They’re all here.” Hoyne pointed one limb. “Over there.”

  Phutes growled low in his vocal cone. “We will go.” He turned to Low Zang. “Please wait for us. Do not go without hearing us again!”

  He thought he felt an encouraging touch, but it was so faint it could have been the hum from the engines that drove this vessel. The humans surrounded them, weapons still aimed at the three Kail, and urged them in the direction of one of the many doors surrounding the round floor.

  They were almost at the door before it slid open. Hoyne and the uniformed humans urged them to move forward. Phutes balked at stepping into a small chamber like the lifts, but he had no choice. If he moved back, the humans would coat him with horrible goo. How could they be so cruel to the Kail?

  “Will you go in, already?” Hoyne asked.

  With one more growl of protest, Phutes stepped forward. His siblings followed him. He heard booming noises ahead of him. The door behind him closed. In a moment, the blank wall ahead slid aside.

  Before them was a vast chamber. To his enormous relief, the human had not lied. All the siblings he had left behind on the Whiskerchin were there. He counted them. 100111 Kail were present. They surged toward him, surrounding the three of them, rasping against him as if they were home with Yesa.

  “Look, there are comfortable rocks,” some of them said. “We have a good pool of pure water! We can see through the walls and the dome above! We shall see the destruction!”

  Phutes glanced around him. From within the Zang’s circle, it looked as though the walls were opaque, but on the Kail’s side, the inner side was translucent. The dome above was as clear as water.

  Blaring horns and red flashing lights urged them to move forward. Fearing an attack with slime, Phutes moved into the chamber. The wall slid shut behind them.

  “You are intact?” a deep, rumbling voice inquired. The crowd of Kail parted to allow passage to Fovrates. The former engineer lumbered toward them, its limbs extended in welcome.

  “Yes,” Phutes said, rasping his arms against the other’s. “How did you get here?”

  The engineer chuckled. “The Wichu called in the humans. They are braver than the hairy ones. They captured us and brought us here. Did you get my last transmission?”

  “We did,” Mrdus said. “But we’re not sure we got it all.”

  “Repeat to me the last sequence,” Fovrates said.

  Mrdus launched into a repetition of the third number that he had memorized. Fovrates wa
ited, a wary look on his craggy face, until Mrdus reeled off the last set of ones and zeroes.

  “That is good,” Fovrates said. “You did. But we are prisoners. We may not be able to fulfill our mission.”

  Phutes let his voice carry into higher registers from sheer relief.

  “Yes, we will,” he said. “Low Zang is interested in us. It spoke to us. We begged it to speak with us again. We repeated the coordinates to Proton Zang. If it doesn’t share the information with Low Zang, we’ll tell it when it comes back to us.”

  Fovrates boomed out a laugh. “Then it was worth it! We will succeed. The humans will have as much reason to mourn as they gave us.”

  CHAPTER 33

  My family spent several happy hours examining our new cabins aboard the Hraklion and comparing them with one another’s quarters. I was very pleased with mine. No doubt the Trade Union staff had made use of my Infogrid file public information cache to arrange the contents of the suite with my likes, needs and preferences in mind. The room had been furnished in my favorite blues and greens. The broad bed was neither too soft nor too hard. An exercise barre and mirror had been erected along the wall shared with the bathroom, which I was pleased to note had a real bathtub, long enough for me to submerge my entire person.

  A chart showing where each of us had been bestowed flashed at me from the viewscreen on the solid marble desk in the corner of the sitting room. Madame Deirdre, I was pleased to see, was only one deck down from the family, in easy reach for lessons and performance consultation. Nell’s suite was next door to mine. She had a double-sized wardrobe that was nearly large enough for all the garments and accessories that she had brought with her. I was persuaded to offer her half of mine, out of brotherly affection as well as a spate of sisterly nagging. Once all our possessions were unpacked and our temporary valets introduced, we went on a self-guided tour of the rest of the Hraklion.

  Shops, theaters and cinemas, recreational facilities, exercise rooms, saunas and steam rooms and no fewer than three handsome swimming pools were there for our pleasure. We peered through the translucent blast doors at the largest of the saunas at a party of Uctus who had shed their desert garb and lay on tiled couches, soaking up the heat. We were given an assignment for a private room in one of the four enormous dining halls, each assigned to a particular ambient temperature and atmospheric blend.

  I was eager to examine the end of the vessel itself, the viewing platform. Along with parties of giggling and chattering beings from numerous systems, all in their best and most colorful clothing, we bundled into one of the central lifts and were borne upward. We emerged into brilliant light that approximated the glow of a small white sun, the star that glowed over the Trade Union’s central system. From a glance at the dome high above our heads as well as the map shining on the wall opposite the lift, we were standing in a ring of service areas in between the center reservation and the outer areas reserved for viewing. In this center circle lay the cafes and pubs, rest areas and public conveniences, each coded according to the bracelet that each of us had been issued, to avoid embarrassment. According to the chart, which approximated that from which we had made our reservation, the walls that rose to the dome’s heart cut off the third set aside for silicon-based beings. Our bracelets would not activate any of those doorways, for our own safety. The center, a flat arena but for a dais in the center, was designed for the Zang.

  “Can we see that part?” Nell asked one of the LAI attendants, who had ridden up with us.

  The servicebot, smartly decked out in dark gold and blue as were the human attendants, whirred briefly. “Of course you may, Lady Lionelle,” he said. “The Zang are not currently on board. Come with me.”

  We barged through the security door, and emerged into an astonishingly impressive space. Along with my cousins, I emitted a sigh of satisfaction. This, indeed, was a place from which great things were set in motion.

  The surrounding wall was pierced through with numerous doors, obviously leading into various habitats. On the side through which we had entered, they looked very impressive, but on this side, they vanished into mere gray outlines against a silver backdrop. The floor itself was tesserated in tones of gold, beginning as vermeil on the edges and warming into the purest element itself at the center. As we had seen on the diagram, there was a dais. Xan and I ran to it, each eager to be the first to stand upon it. I won the race by half a step, but graciously, I made way for my cousin to come up beside me. There was room, to be honest, for all my cousins and sister to join us, which they did at a far more sedate pace. I assisted Nell up. At this spot, we stood directly beneath the apex of the crystal dome.

  “It does make one feel very grand,” Xan said. He pointed down near our feet at a series of gold-cased fitments. “Look at that. There are spotlights fixed upon this stage. The Zang produce their own light. Why would they need those?”

  “I would assume that other productions are mounted here,” I said. “These spectacles can’t be all keeping the vessel occupied.”

  “True,” Xan said.

  An announcement, all the more welcome for its timing, came over the public address system.

  “Friends, the bars are open on the viewing level, and all the entertainment centers in the platform complex are available to you now. Please enjoy yourselves. We will notify you when the event is beginning. In the meantime, the facility is here for you. Let any one of our uniformed attendants know if you need anything. Anything at all! Thank you for visiting the Trade Union Event Platform Hraklion!”

  “I do like this place,” Jil said, in delight.

  Gravity on the vessel—I could not in conscience call a long, narrow cylinder with a crystal dome at one end a ship—had been set at approximately .9 of Keinolt standard, so one did not get worn out walking. There was plenty to see, as the vessel was enormous. It could easily have accommodated the population of a small city. Owing to the distance from the Core Worlds, or indeed any densely inhabited portion of the galaxy, the platform was more than two-thirds empty, yet the crew did not seem dismayed at the fill. What we were paying for the privilege of being present at the Zang’s spectacle in the comfort one could enjoy in one’s own home would nearly have paid for one of those homes. Not mine, of course, but we met plenty of visitors for whom this was the vacation of a lifetime.

  The Trade Union officers stayed well out of our way most of the time, since technically we were still at war. This ship was in our space, a clear violation of our borders. Still, in a political set of twists that would have put my back out, no matter how much flexibility training I had undergone, tourism was one of the few industries that was permitted to cross the frontier. No doubt whatsoever that it resulted in Trade Union spies in Imperium space, and vice versa. Still, no vessel like the platform existed throughout the Imperium, and none had such a reputation for being on the spot when the Zang chose to allow witnesses to their art.

  The next two mornings in a row, we had gone up before breakfast to examine our new headquarters on the platform level. Shops and cafes were in full operation here, as they had on several levels sandwiched in between the residential areas. The savory aromas coming from their kitchens boded well for the days ahead.

  On the third day, it was Sinim’s turn to choose in which of these we would take our morning meal. I had dressed in a casual but loose-fitting bodysuit of knitted buff silk, so I could take exercise later on with Madame Deirdre. She had no doubt breakfasted on sunlight and deep thought, but I required actual sustenance. Sinim had spotted a place that served all manner of egg dishes. We took over one entire section of the bistro, firing our requirements for morning beverages at the LAI whose cheerful personality and efficiency won my instant approval.

  “Have you seen Laine yet?” Nell asked. Her long, fluttering robes of mottled red and tan were a bit too much for me to take pre-caffeination, but I focused upon her face.

  “I have not yet spotted her,” I said. Nor had I seen any of my crew, including Parsons. My itch of cu
riosity had gone unscratched since Plet had contacted me by accident the day before. When I tried to contact anyone on the Rodrigo on the first day, I was favored with the usual Imperium Navy graphic and the irritating recording, “Your call is very important to us. Please leave a message and we will return your message as soon as we can.” After leaving several increasingly petulant pleas for information, I stopped calling. If they were running technical drills of some kind, I was glad to be left out of them. If adventure had overtaken them, I could register my displeasure on not being included at another time. My cousins understood why I required that one table be kept empty and available, should Laine, Parsons or my crew appear and need to be fed. By the time we finished our meal, none of those had joined us. Stifling my disappointment, I rose with the others and continued our exploration of our temporary domicile.

  As the de facto hosts within Imperium space, I and my cousins paid visits to those guests who had already taken up residence on board the Hraklion. As many as a dozen galactic nations from outside the Imperium were represented as well as thirty or more systems within its borders. We had been planning to come for almost a year. Others seemed to have been planning longer. A group of humans who looked like an extended family, all barrel-chested and black-haired, had claimed a prime spot close to the center of the carbon-based side. They had banners proclaiming this to be their tenth spectacle. Among their number was a tiny baby boy, bright eyed and kicking happily, who was passed from arm to arm. His coverall was emblazoned with the number one. I smiled at his grinning parents as we went by.

  “What are those?” Nell asked, in a low voice, as we neared an area fenced in by wrought-iron barricades. The creatures inside, five in number, looked like small, adorable, blonde children, but with fierce, insane eyes and sharp teeth.

  “Donre,” I said. “They come from the other side of the Uctu Autocracy. They must have traveled over a year to reach this spot.”