Rhythm of the Imperium

by Jody Lynn Nye

“You have to double-knot everything around him,” my uncle said, with a grin. He leaned over and picked up the furry animal under its arms. “He’s one of the smartest and the most stubborn. They’re as obstinate as humans about doing what they want. It’s like having a million children who never really grow up.”

  “Is that why you never had a family?” I asked.

  “Who said I don’t have a family?” he retorted.

  I blinked. “You do?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “We are entering the system, Lord Laurence,” Gaia said.

  “One more movie, then,” he said, cheerfully, signing to the micronbots. This one was in shades of blue-gray and white, though the images were clearer than many of the color vids he had played before. I only half-watched. These recordings were mere shadows of what we had left behind. I was a mere shadow. Only Earth was real. How could I keep that secret? The scopes showed waves of electromagnetic force passing through us.

  As we entered the heliopause of the system, Gaia bucked mightily. The motion died to a shudder as her stabilizers kicked in.

  “I’m afraid you’ve missed the spectacle,” Uncle Laurence said. I glanced toward the approaching star, and noticed one of the crescents of light was gone. “In fact, I think it just happened. I’m sorry.”

  “No, uncle,” I said, feeling the truth down in my very genes. “It was worth it.”

  We approached the Imperium Jaunter, keeping its mass in between us and the platform. Gaia dipped and rolled to enter the landing bay. She set down upon the pad nearest the entrance. Our chairs lowered to the floor, and we stood up.

  “Go on, Thomas,” Uncle Laurence said. “It was grand to see you.”

  “And you, uncle,” I said, sincerely. “Thank you for everything. But won’t you come back to the platform with me? Nell will be sorry to have missed you.”

  “Sorry, old thing,” he said, with an offhanded wave. “I can’t stay. There will be too many of the small crafts out with their cameras looking every which way. Tell Nell I’ll see her next time.” He made a face. “Better not. Oh, here’s a gift for your mother.” The micronbots crawled along the floor carrying a small pot from which sprang a pale gray sprig with clusters of tight violet buds blooming on it. They stacked themselves a meter and a half high to offer it to me. “Keep it somewhere safe until you get home.”

  “Thank you, Gaia,” I said, glancing up.

  “You are welcome, Lord Thomas. I hope to see you again.”

  I looked a question at my uncle. He laughed, and threw open the hatch.

  “Hurry up. I need to get away before anyone else notices me. My cloaking technology won’t work indefinitely.”

  We clasped hands, and I scrambled out.

  CHAPTER 40

  Special Envoy Melarides edged her way through the celebrating crowd. She looked as horrified as the people around her looked enchanted and excited. Suddenly, she spotted Parsons standing well out of the way and rushed toward him.

  “Oh, commander, we have a terrible situation. I need your help.”

  “What is the matter?” he asked. He glanced at his viewpad. “It is functioning. Did you try to contact me?”

  “No, oh, no! I didn’t want this on any electronic medium. It would be too easy for the bad news to spread.”

  “What has happened?”

  The older woman’s forehead wrinkled. Parsons noticed that beads of perspiration had broken out upon it. He retrieved his handkerchief from his belt pouch and offered it to her. She wiped her face, but failed to remove the appalled expression.

  “It seems that we have made a dreadful tactical error with the Kail. We have offended them to the very heart of their psyches. I have done my best to make up for it, but Phutes and his siblings refuse to listen to me. I cannot say that I blame them, but I had no idea! No such information was ever brought to the attention of the diplomatic corps. This is entirely new to all of us, and I am devastated.”

  Parsons frowned. “What happened?”

  The woman raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m surprised you weren’t monitoring the conference.”

  “A record was made,” Parsons confirmed, “but not yet reviewed. The spectacle occurred only minutes ago, while you were in camera. My primary duty is to ensure the safety of the nobles. Tell me your concerns.”

  Melarides quickly ran down the conversation she had had with the representatives of the Kail. “At no time was any inkling of this ever made clear to me, or I should have cautioned the government against approaching them in this manner. Living planets! Did you know about this?”

  “No,” Parsons said. “We must act quickly. We need to set failsafes against the Kail. You know that they are capable of corrupting technological devices up to and including LAIs.”

  “Yes, I did,” Melarides said, pulling herself together. “I apologize. Knowing that, I should have notified you by pad, no matter what mistakes I made. It may already be too late. They left me, swearing revenge, but I couldn’t follow them into the Zang’s circle. My bracelet isn’t coded for that section.”

  “One moment, if you please.” He lifted his viewpad to his ear, preferring not to trust air transmission under the circumstances. The pad itself had been virus-checked only twenty minutes before. He waited until the connection cleared. “Colonel Hoyne, Commander Parsons. Please exercise protocol C-2 immediately.”

  “Damn it, now? Very well, engaging. Will you meet me here in the control center?”

  “On our way,” Parsons said. He took the envoy’s arm and helped her thread her way anti-clockwise around the enormous ring. As he passed the Imperium nobles, Lord Nalney ran over and tried to drag them back with him.

  “Come on!” he said, happily. “We are celebrating! You must have a glass of champagne to say farewell to the poor old planet. What a sendoff!”

  “Oh, Parsons, come and join us!” Lady Lionelle called. “We’re having such fun!”

  Lord Xanson sat entwined with a woman. They were kissing passionately. Lady Jil and both of her male companions seemed to be similarly engaged. As was customary, Lady Erita sat with her chin held high and her eyes closed, an almost pained expression on her face, as if she was absorbing the energies that had been released by the planet’s destruction or of the giddy crowd around her, but not really enjoying either. Lord Rillion poured drinks for everyone who passed them, including the members of an Uctu conga line snaking among the chairs. He took attendance quickly of all of his noble charges. All but Lord Thomas were present and untroubled. Lady Lionelle beckoned to him again.

  “In a short while, my lady,” Parsons called back, projecting his voice to be heard over the din. She seemed satisfied by his promise, and turned back to the festivities. He hurried as fast as the lady on his arm could move, and opened the door to the operations center with his free hand. When it shut behind them, the noise died away instantly. The portal, like the wall, was translucent on the inside.

  “What are we going to have to do about the Kail?” Colonel Hoyne asked. “How could such a mistake have been made? We have thousands of guests on board!”

  “Are all of these people in danger because of my error?” Melarides asked, surveying the crowd with horror on her face.

  “They are as safe as they can be,” Parsons said, helping the lady to a chair. “They can’t affect the computer system on this platform with the precautions that we have taken. No LAI will allow them to make contact with it. They might be able to wreak havoc on the facility, but as they actively abhor making physical contact with living beings, I believe that the guests are safe. The Kail will have a difficult time returning to their motherworlds, I am afraid. They have exhausted their resources, and the Wichu will not trust them again.”

  “A suicide attack, then?” Melarides asked. “I didn’t see that in them, but I appear to have missed such fundamental facts about them that I am afraid to make any assumptions whatsoever.”

  “I’ll space them if they look like they’re about to blow s
omething up,” Hoyne said. His brows drew down to his nose. He brought up a scope. “At the moment the three that are outside the silicon habitat are with the Zang. They’re talking to one of them. What do you suppose that is about?”

  “Their anger, I will guess,” Parsons said. “I do not know whether the conversation is one-sided or not. Low Zang appears to have taken a fancy to the Kail, but as for being able to convey complex concepts to it, I am not certain they are capable of such linguistic facility.”

  “Are you sure of that, commander?”

  “No,” Parsons replied. “The Kail have surprised us again and again on this journey. It would be well to monitor them closely.”

  “I have guards and spy-eyes in the Zang enclosure now,” Colonel Hoyne said, showing them numerous views on his central screen. “Curse them! I thought I had enough to deal with keeping them out of our computers! My central government has been notified about any possible attack from the Kail, including cyber-attacks. But what do they think they can persuade the Zang to do?”

  “When our team rescued the Whiskerchin, the Kail Fovrates, then its chief engineer, was transmitting information to his counterparts on the Jaunter. We believe they were coordinates to a homeworld.”

  “But whose?”

  “Fovrates refuses to say. Our computers are currently analyzing the wealth of data sent to Phutes and his siblings. As the Kail use a binary system, the comparison is taking some time, when we have to allow for error. Many of the points that were in the first tranche of information turned out to be in empty space. We believed that they might ask for help removing your nation’s spy station in their space,” Parsons added. “I am afraid that Special Envoy Melarides has given them cause to widen their field of attack to include Imperium targets. They hate and dislike all humans.”

  “We have to get them away from the Zang,” Hoyne said.

  “You might remove the Kail from the Zang now,” Parsons said, “but if they have evoked sympathy in one of the Elders, they can follow the Kail wherever they go. It’s better if any contact is under our supervision. I will go in.”

  The Zang stood facing one another in a circle on the raised dais at the center of the enormous room. The silver pillars gleamed even more brightly than they had before. Phutes held his fists before his ocular receptors to shield them. Even more, the Zang’s energy envelopes seemed to extend from their visible bodies out almost all the way to the walls of the center pavilion. The invisible power battered at him like a solar storm, but stronger than anything that he had ever felt. Phutes felt humble and weak by comparison, but his anger at the humans gave him the strength to force his way through the maelstrom. The force felt as if it would cause his body to crumble into dust. It did not matter, as long as he could enlist Low Zang’s help.

  Because of the meeting with the human, they had missed standing beside the Zang at the moment when they triggered the destruction. Phutes was 10 times angry with the humans. Now he meant to do something about it.

  Sofus and Mrdus pressed forward alongside him. The creaking servicebot rolled along in their wake.

  “What could withstand such might?” Mrdus asked. “We are nothing compared with these beings!”

  “We are at least as strong as humans,” Sofus said, holding a fist up to point. “Look there. The human female is in its midst. If she can bear it, we can.”

  Phutes forced his vision to adapt to the brilliance. Sofus was right. In the midst of the pillars of light was one small, dark shadow. She seemed untroubled by the forces raging around her. Her hair streamed straight out behind her head as if a gale were blowing in her face, one made of pure energy. Humans were stronger than he ever knew them to be. That made them an even greater threat to the motherworlds! The Kail had no choice but to rely upon the hope of Low Zang’s help.

  The Kail moved forward uneasily. The commune between the Zang was so intense that Phutes had no idea how he would manage to persuade Low Zang to listen.

  And, yet.

  A tendril of power, almost gentle in comparison with the gale, reached out tentatively, and touched Phutes and his siblings.

  “It sees us!” Sofus said.

  “Low Zang?” Phutes asked, hopefully.

  The wisp touched them again.

  What did you think?

  The Kail looked at one another. They knew that the truth was none of them had been looking up at the moment of the cataclysm. But they had seen the burst of light as the planet exploded, and felt the energy pour out of the place where it had been.

  “It was … astonishing,” Phutes said. “In all our lives, we could never have imagined such a thing.”

  “You performed an incredible feat,” Mrdus added. “The focus that you put into creating the spectacle will never be forgotten!”

  The next touch was even more shy.

  Really?

  Phutes put everything, down to the core of his being, into his reply.

  “I swear that it is true. Never in the history of the Kail has such a marvel been seen. You have impressed us with your power, your precision, and the efficiency of this event.”

  There was no mistaking how pleased the Zang was by their praise. The power it emitted brushed them again and again.

  “You have created a marvel of art,” Phutes said, greatly daring. “It is clear that your skill is inborn. My siblings and I would like to witness another of your creations.”

  Another?

  “For the sake of our mother, Yesa, who sent us here to observe your talent and wisdom,” Mrdus put in. He stared out from under the ridge of his brow at Phutes, who signaled assent. This was their opportunity! The humans should learn their lesson, when one of their own motherworlds was sacrificed.

  But this one, was it not good enough?

  “Oh, it was good, better than good,” Sofus caroled to the Zang. “We are so impressed that we call upon you to help the Kail. As a mark of friendship between our two peoples, would you consider removing a planet that we feel is an excrescence and a blot upon its system?”

  A hesitation. You know of a sphere that does not belong?

  “We do,” Phutes said. “It is wrong for it to continue to exist.”

  Tell me where it is.

  Low Zang listened carefully to the irregular rhythm coming from the three Kail, certain that it had absorbed the primitive beat. When they concluded their statement of location, the trio withdrew to the edge of the room. Low Zang contemplated the possibility of a second spectacle. Such a thing had not been done in a very long time: that two works of beautification should be completed so close together. It was eager to make its mark and become a regular member of the group. This could bring it into early prominence!

  Greatly daring, it revealed the Kail’s request.

  “Are you certain, so soon after this one?” One Zang asked. “The energy of your first work has not yet fully dissipated. Stop and enjoy it. We have .00002 hexaeons until it has passed. That is a sufficiently long time for pleasure.”

  “Was my performance well done?” Low Zang asked, hopefully.

  “Well enough,” Zang Quark replied. It was irritated to be interrupted from absorbing the vibrations. “How should it be? You accomplished what you said you would do. It was not disharmonious. What more could it be?”

  “It could be better. If I could try again right away, I could put into that working what I have learned from this one,” Low Zang suggested, exuding warmth and hope upon the others.

  Even One Zang and Charm Zang, who were usually so encouraging, were not sure.

  “Should we undertake another removal so soon?” Charm asked. “We must consider the artistic balance of the universe. What you have accomplished here now will affect space for many hexaprags in every direction.”

  Low Zang was eager to defend its admirers. “They want to watch us do it again,” it said. “They feel the urgency of being such ephemeral creatures. They are here in their ‘now.’”

  “They can wait,” Proton said. “They are less ep
hemeral than my pet, and she never demands a spectacle.”

  “They are impatient,” Low insisted.

  Proton let the disharmony it sensed be felt. “That puts on us no obligation. We all have time.”

  “Their time is not like our time. They cannot return when we are at last ready to create another work of beauty,” Low Zang said. It knew it was daring in pushing the group, but none of them had ever been as encouraging as the Kail. Perhaps it was wrong, but the praise put Low into greater harmony than it had ever felt.

  “I am against it,” Quark said.

  “As am I,” Proton added.

  Low began to feel unimportant again.

  “You honored me by making me part of your group,” it sent, filling the chamber with a piteous sensation that nearly overwhelmed the ongoing vibration from the disintegrated planet. More humans entered the room. Some of them approached the Kail, seeking to move them out. Low added a hint of desperation, lest the opportunity be lost to please its new friends. “Won’t you consider this?”

  One Zang enveloped them all in a kindly air.

  “We do not want you to feel less than one of us,” it said. “Very well. I will consider it. What about the rest of you?”

  “I accede,” Charm said. “Come, it will be a new experience for all of us! It has been a long time since we waited less than .001 hexaeons in between removals.”

  Proton and Quark thought deeply, reaching out to the far extent of their senses. Proton was the first to return.

  “I will agree, too. But we must be unanimous.”

  Low was jubilant. It issued conciliatory waves toward the conical Zang. “Please, Quark, it is only you. I respect your opinion.”

  “Very well,” Zang Quark said, at last. “It is not unprecedented. Perhaps it will be enjoyable.”

  Low Zang was jubilant. It sent a touch of power toward the Kail. They dodged the humans and charged toward it, the floor shaking under their heavy feet. It was pleased to be able to give them good news.

  “I shall inform my human,” Proton said, opening its aura to attract the small female to its side. “The other ephemerals will also be interested in witnessing another of our works of art.”