Wreaths of Empire

by Andrew M. Seddon

  Georgia Maricic swept in on a cloud of perfume. Exquisitely dressed as always, she moved lightly, gracefully. A faint smile touched her lips. Jade realized with a start that Maricic was enjoying herself. She was in her element, surrounded by lesser lights who could only pale beside her brightness. Maricic seated herself and bestowed a benign smile upon her companions. Then she turned towards Iverson. The look she gave him was mocking. Jade saw him clench his fist. Then Maricic turned away again.

  Ambassador Halaffi opened the proceedings with a terse statement.

  “The people of the Gara’nesh will not consent to the secession of G’tani 3. The request of Admiral Gellner for reduction of the fleet at Mirl’takana is denied.”

  Gellner rose to do battle.

  Jade listened with half an ear. Her attention rested on Halaffi. As usual, she couldn’t tell much from the set of the alien’s pinched, leathery face or posture of the spindly frame. But the Gara’nesh ambassador’s exposed skin glowed mud yellow—not a good sign. The other Gara’nesh were similarly colored. Both sides, it appeared, trod close to flash-point. She didn’t think it would take much to trigger an outright split.

  It didn’t.

  “It is high time the Gara’nesh ambassador realized the seriousness of these negotiations and stopped treating them as if they were a game!” Gellner hunched forward.

  Jade’s breath rushed in.

  Travers buried his blonde head in his hands. “Now he’s done it!”

  Stalker reached out a hand to quell Gellner, but the Chief of Staff slapped it away. The crack of flesh on flesh hung suspended in the air.

  Gellner stabbed a finger towards Halaffi. “That one is nothing but a slin-tha flawwen haqq!” Gellner sat down, face flushed in triumph. Only Gellner’s breathing broke the silence of the room.

  “Admiral Gellner!” Jade blurted into the hush.

  Gellner turned towards her, his thin moustache curled. “Did you understand that?”

  “That was the worst insult you could possibly have offered!”

  “Exactly.”

  Halaffi’s barrel-shaped body jerked to her feet. The ambassador flared the brightest, most vivid yellow Jade had ever seen.

  “What does the Member Maricic say about her inferior’s insolence?” Halaffi demanded.

  Maricic cast a dark glance at Gellner. “This one apologizes for Admiral Gellner’s ill-advised words. But it is true that little progress has been made.”

  “That is not this one’s fault!” The translator managed to make Halaffi’s denial sound impassioned. “The Admiral Gellner refuses to compromise—”

  “That’s a lie!” Gellner jumped to his feet. “It is you who are intractable and stubborn—”

  “Enough, Admiral.” The authority in Maricic’s quiet voice stopped Gellner in mid-sentence. His mouth worked soundlessly, and he subsided into his chair.

  “I think,” Maricic continued to Halaffi, “that it would be well to halt this session. Perhaps this afternoon, when emotions have had a chance to cool down, we can reconvene.”

  Jade saw Halaffi’s hue pale slightly.

  “This one is willing. But be warned. Another such outburst, and we will not be mollified.”

  “Agreed.”

  The meeting broke up. Stalker turned to speak to Travers. Jade rose, and headed for the exit. She saw Gellner catch up to Maricic, with Iverson right behind. Jade edged closer, pushing a diplomatic lieutenant out of the way. She was just in time to catch Maricic’s whispered words.

  “Well done, Admiral. To perfection.”

  Gellner touched his cap. “Thank you, Member.”

  Jade brought herself up short.

  She stared at Gellner’s narrow back as the admiral followed Maricic from the room.

  Then she followed, her steps slow and deliberate.

  Kuchera met her for lunch in the dining lounge, and Jade filled him in.

  Jade nibbled on a vegetable stick, not tasting it. “Unless we come up with something quickly,” she said, “the negotiations are going to fall apart on their own.”

  Troy Kuchera crunched his own stick. “It sounds as if that’s what Gellner was after. What did it mean, anyway? What he said.”

  “Slin’tha flawwen haqq. It’s really hard to translate. It implies that the person is soulless, almost a non-person, who deserves eternal damnation or annihilation. Perhaps the shortest way to render it into Standard would be ‘go to hell’. Or, ‘one who is going to hell’. But it means more to the Gara’nesh than it does to us.”

  “We’d probably brush off a comment like that without a second thought,” Kuchera said. “I would assume, then, that the intensity of their reaction implies that they take their beliefs—whatever they are—very seriously.”

  “Definitely.” Jade coughed an offending piece of vegetable out of her throat. “Whereas many humans live unexamined lives—living without thinking very much about their underlying assumptions—their metaphysics if you will—such an attitude would be incomprehensible to the Gara’nesh.”

  Kuchera took a drink. “Is that a cultural difference or a religious one?”

  Jade shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Kuchera continued. “What’s their underlying premise?”

  “I don’t think generalization is possible. Some believe in a supreme deity, but I don’t know if they constitute a majority or not. I think they run the gamut from atheism to theism, the same as we do.”

  “What constitutes sin for an alien?” Kuchera mused. “How do their values compare to ours? How do they relate to their God? How do they achieve salvation or enlightenment or whatever?”

  Jade glanced around to make certain no one was listening. “Look, Troy, this isn’t the place—”

  Kuchera over-rode her. “If there is a God—as we believe—then how does that influence human-Gara’nesh relations? How does it affect those of us who believe that God became human? Does the concept of God incarnating among aliens make sense or sound bizarre? Does it trivialize theology or enhance it?”

  “How God might or might not relate to aliens isn’t pertinent to—”

  “Do humans and aliens have the same path to God?”

  Jade set her glass down with a thump. “I have not the slightest idea.”

  “Diversity or consistency.” Kuchera fondled his moustache. “Interesting problem.”

  “So write a book about it. Maybe you can find a small press publisher on Hellsfroze who wants to commit professional suicide by releasing it.”

  Kuchera clicked his tongue. “You’re developing a sharp tongue, Jade.”

  “What’s with this sudden interest in Gara’nesh beliefs, anyway?”

  Kuchera shrugged. “I’m trying to understand the opposition, that’s all. I’m curious about how they differ from us. I wonder how Gara’nesh beliefs influence the negotiations.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know if anyone knows,” Jade said. “I’ve heard rumors that the Vatican has occasionally permitted missionaries to venture into Gara’nesh space—unofficially, of course –“

  “And?”

  “None have ever returned. But fascinating as this is, we’re getting off the subject. If we can please return to it.”

  “Umm. Gellner.”

  “Thank you,” Jade emphasized. “I don’t understand Gellner. The last way to make progress is to offer a mortal insult to your opponent.”

  Kuchera reached for another vegetable stick. “Gellner’s pro-war.”

  “True.” Jade snapped a stick in two, and bit viciously into the smaller piece. “I hate this sitting around waiting for events to happen.”

  Her commlink chimed. “What is it?”

  “Emmers, ma’am. I’ve got something you should take a look at.”

  Jade flung the vegetable stick onto her plate. “On my way.” She looked to Kuchera. “Coming?”

  He gulped down a mouthful. “If I’m allowed.”

  “Hasn’t stopped you before.”

  Jade slowe
d to catch her breath before entering her office.

  “Something interesting?” she asked.

  Emmers flicked a strand of dark hair off his face. His normally clear blue eyes reflected puzzlement. “I think so, ma’am. But I’m not sure. That’s why I wanted you to take a look.” He gestured to the Hazlett.

  “Do I want to know where you found this?” Jade asked.

  “Probably not,” Emmers confessed.

  Jade glanced at Kuchera. “Nothing is private to this man,” she said, indicating Emmers. “If you have anything confidential, the last place to store it is in a computer file, no matter how heavily guarded and coded it might be.”

  “Snoop on his own mother, would he?” Kuchera asked, deadpan.

  “She taught him,” Jade said. “So he says. Let’s see it,” she requested.

  Emmers touched a sensorpad and the screen illuminated.

  “One word?” Kuchera scoffed, peering at the line of alien print with accompanying Anglo transliteration.

  “And co-ordinates,” Jade added.

  “Yes,” Emmers said. “The problem is that I can’t find a translation for it.”

  “So?” Kuchera dismissed Emmers’s finding. “Do our files contain the whole Gara’nesh language, and all permutations, archaicisms and dialects thereof?”

  “Shut up a moment, Troy,” Jade said, without rancor. “Let me think. Nessh'uarin.” She repeated the word, changing the accent to the final syllable. “Root word is probably nesh, meaning ‘favored’, or ‘chosen’.”

  Kuchera looked at her with respect. “Are you fluent in Gara’nesh?”

  “The language is called Ga'halli. And yes, pretty close. I’ve always been good with languages. But Ga’halli is a very complex language, much more intricate than Anglo-Standard, with several layers of meaning.”

  “When did you learn?” Kuchera asked.

  “I started years ago, after Felton 114.”

  “Because of Nahanni?”

  “Partly. And because I thought that if I was going to remain in the Navy—and Intelligence, and if we were going to keep fighting them, that a knowledge of their language might be useful. You can tell a lot about a person or a people by the way they express themselves.”

  “I didn’t know anybody was fluent in it—I thought everyone relied on translators.”

  “Aside from me, there are six people fluent in Ga’halli—three with Intelligence, two in the Political Bureau, and a linguist on Heliopolis. Back to the point. Do you know what ‘Gara’nesh’ means?”

  Kuchera shook his head. “Can’t say that I do.”

  “Nor I, ma’am,” said Emmers, following the conversation.

  Jade regarded the men sadly. “See? You two don’t know even the first little bit about them.”

  “Then don’t leave us in ignorance,” Kuchera prompted.

  “OK,” Jade relented. “‘Nesh’, as noted, means favored or chosen. ‘Gara’ means people, or race.”

  “Favored or chosen race,” said Emmers.

  “Partly. But it means more than that. Chosen by whom? The implication is deeper. The whole phrase really means ‘the Favored Chosen People of the First One, Maker-of-all’.”

  “So,” Kuchera said, “we’re fighting the children of God, as it were.”

  “But,” interposed Emmers, “plenty of early cultures on Earth called themselves ‘the people’, or something like that. How much can you read into a name?”

  Jade waved a hand. “I’m not a social anthropologist. Many of Earth’s races have believed themselves to be children of a deity.”

  “Not to mention a variety of wackos,” Kuchera added.

  “But to return to the immediate problem,” Jade said, “I’m not sure what Nessh’uarin means either. Maybe you’d better tell me where you found it, Rick.”

  “Just remember that you asked, ma’am.”

  Jade gave a short nod.

  “Admiral Gellner’s files.”

  Kuchera choked. “You hacked into the Fleet Admiral’s system?”

  Jade closed her eyes. “See what I told you? Do I want to know what you were doing in the admiral’s files, Rick?”

  “I wasn’t being particular, ma’am. I scanned all members of the opposition.”

  “Did you cover your tracks?”

  Emmers gave her a scandalized look. “Absolutely!”

  Jade asked, “Was this all you could get?”

  “Unfortunately. It was a stray word the searchworm kicked out.”

  “Is it important?” Kuchera asked. “It might not mean anything.”

  “Why would Gellner have it in his files, then?” Jade countered.

  “And heavily protected, too,” Emmers added.

  “What about the co-ordinates, Rick?” Jade asked. “Did you run them?”

  “I tried.” Emmers raised his bony shoulders. “It’s a long ways off in a section of the galaxy that we’ve never mapped extensively, just routine astronomical surveys from Hegemony observatories. It’s a blue-white star deep in Gara’nesh space.”

  Jade started.

  Kuchera whistled. “Do you think that’s the location of their weapons base?” he asked.

  “A definite possibility,” Jade said.

  “How did Gellner get it?”

  Jade shook her head. “Short of asking him, there’s probably no way to know.”

  “How do we find out what’s at those co-ordinates?” Kuchera continued. “We presumably don’t have an R-space route. And even if we did, it would likely be a suicide mission.”

  “We do the next best thing,” Jade said. “Rick, arrange a rendezvous. Top priority.”

  “Yes’m.”

  Kuchera rose. “With whom, Jade?”

  Her green eyes twinkled. “Wait and see, Troy.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “No,” she grinned. “It’s not.”

  Blair Iverson stood in Lewis Gellner’s office, watching the bright spark of a departing shuttle pull away from Covenant.

  “Now where’s Lafrey going?” Iverson wondered.

  “Find out,” Gellner snapped.

  Iverson tabbed his commlink. “Davies.” He stared out the window while waiting for the reply from the light cruiser, on station in the Third Fleet. The shuttle dwindled until it was only an afterimage.

  “Davies. Lieutenant Commander Kiser.”

  “Major Iverson. There’s a shuttle just left Covenant to rendezvous with Starwind.”

  A pause, then, “We have it on scan.”

  “Admiral Gellner wants to know where Starwind goes. Exactly. Not a list of possibilities.”

  A pause. Then, “We’re in proximity to Starwind, Major. I think I can put a Roessler-space tracer relay on her before the shuttle arrives.”

  “Do it. Out.”

  From behind him, Iverson heard Gellner issuing orders over his own commlink.

  Iverson tapped his commlink a second time. “Hangar bay. This is Iverson. Is Admiral Gellner’s shuttle ready?”

  “Clear, sir.”

  “Good. Prepare for departure.” He turned away from the window and faced Gellner.

  The Fleet Admiral nodded. “Vespage has detailed Vindictive. The captain has orders to follow your commands. If Lafrey fails to return, that’s fine with me.”

  Iverson inclined his head. “She won’t if I have anything to say about it. Not this time.”

  “Get going.” Gellner reached for his neuralstim.

  Blair Iverson hurried out, a tight smile wedged on his lips.

  THIRTEEN

  The pale white dwarf flickered dismally on the boundary between life and death, too tired to live, but afraid to die. Once, perhaps, it had been a bright yellow star like Earth’s Sun, radiant, warm, and inviting. But that was eons ago. The fires had waned, and the star had shrunk, curling in upon itself until now it was a pale remnant of its former self, its glory spent, facing a gradual, lingering descent into the oblivion of heat-death. It lay a bare two hours distant in Roessler-spac
e from Gamma Hydra 4. It had no name, merely a number and set of navigational co-ordinates.

  Starwind transitioned into realspace.

  “Here we are,” Jade said cheerfully.

  “Here?” Kuchera echoed. He gave a jaundiced look towards the white dwarf on the viewscreen. “There’s nothing here.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Jade replied from the co-pilot’s seat. “Anything on scan, Rick?”

  “Picking up transition residuals of one ship, ma’am.” Emmers replied from the pilot’s station. “Near the planetoid.”

  Jade winked at Kuchera. “Take us over,” she said to Emmers.

  He brought Starwind's insystem drive to power.

  “When are you going to tell me whom we’re meeting?” Kuchera complained. “Or am I to be left in perpetual ignorance?”

  “Have patience, dear boy.”

  “The other ship is underway,” Emmers reported. “Intercept course.”

  “Send the signal.”

  Emmers complied. “Signal away.”

  The three waited in silence. The distance between the two ships narrowed. Kuchera ran his fingers over the leg of his uniform.

  A light winked on the console. “Response coming through,” Emmers said. “It’s correct.”

  “It’s always nice to know you’re meeting the right people,” Jade remarked. She removed her hand from where it had been resting near the weapons controls.

  Starwind approached a cold, barren planetoid, the white dwarf’s sole companion. As the small, rocky ball—bleaker than Covenant, if that was possible—swelled on the screen, Jade pointed to a bright spark off to one side.

  “There’s our contact, Troy.”

  The ship enlarged, until details become visible.

  “Match velocity and bring us alongside,” Jade instructed. “Yes, ma’am,” Emmers said.

  The ship resolved into an unusual assembly of interconnected spheres, a striking contrast to the more rectangular and diamond design of human vessels. It massed about the same as Starwind.

  “That’s a Gara’nesh ship!” Kuchera gripped Jade’s seatback.

  Jade’s lips twitched. “Of course. What do you expect a Gara’nesh to be traveling on?”

  “I…but…You don’t mean to say…” Kuchera stopped, his eyes riveted on the screen.