Omnia (The Silver Ships Book 9)
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OMNIA
A Silver Ships Novel
S. H. JUCHA
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by S. H. Jucha
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Published by Hannon Books, Inc.
www.scottjucha.com
ISBN: 978-0-9975904-6-3 (e-book)
ISBN: 978-0-9975904-7-0 (softcover)
First Edition: June 2017
Cover Design: Damon Za
3D image of Nanna-Sin Ziggurat by PirateMaster11
Formatting: Polgarus Studio
Acknowledgments
Omnia is the ninth book in The Silver Ships series. I wish to extend a special thanks to my independent editor, Joni Wilson, whose efforts enabled the finished product. To my proofreaders, Abiola Streete, Dr. Jan Hamilton, David Melvin, Ron Critchfield, Pat Bailey, and Mykola Dolgalov, I offer my sincere thanks for their support.
My thanks to the many readers, who commented on subjects of interest to them throughout the series and challenged me with their ideas. Many will find snippets in my novels reflecting their valuable input!
Despite the assistance I’ve received from others, all errors are mine.
Glossary
A glossary is located at the end of the book.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1 - Daelon
Chapter 2 - Moon Landing
Chapter 3 - Evacuation
Chapter 4 - Experiments
Chapter 5 - Z
Chapter 6 - Willem
Chapter 7 - Dassata
Chapter 8 - So It Begins
Chapter 9 - Fissla and Peace
Chapter 10 - Omnia
Chapter 11 - Inventive Minds
Chapter 12 - Face of Omnia
Chapter 13 - Young Queens
Chapter 14 - Sawa
Chapter 15 - The Edifices
Chapter 16 - Waffala
Chapter 17 - Plan C-3
Chapter 18 - Return to Omnia
Chapter 19 - The Tour
Chapter 20 - Swei Swee’s Return
Chapter 21 - We Have Guests
Chapter 22 - Fortune Strikes
Chapter 23 - Into The Dark
Chapter 24 - Maria’s Deal
Chapter 25 - Decisions
Chapter 26 - Haraken Transplants
Chapter 27 - Soma School
Chapter 28 - Rover
Chapter 29 - Scout Ships
Chapter 30 - Three Years
Chapter 31 - Killian
Chapter 32 - To the Rescue
Glossary
My Books
The Author
-1-
Daelon
“This is Captain Cordelia of the Freedom, calling the orbital platform above the Daelon moon,” the SADE, a self-aware digital entity, sent via the ship’s comm. Her voice was relayed through the speakers of the city-ship’s massive bridge for her fellow Harakens, who were arrayed around the bridge and anxiously awaited the reply to Cordelia’s hail.
“This is the Daelon orbital station, Captain Cordelia,” a voice was heard over the Freedom’s speakers. “Your ship isn’t in the Confederation’s database. Please state your ship’s origin and the nature of your emergency.”
“We’ve no emergency, Ser,” Cordelia replied.
“Then state your intentions, Captain.”
“We’re volunteering no information, Ser,” Cordelia replied. “We’re informing you that within a day and a half we’ll be in a stationary position relative to your moon. We’ve business to conduct with those individuals below and would appreciate no interference from you.”
“Captain Cordelia,” the voice replied, “we’re duty bound to inform you that this is Confederation space, and the people on Daelon are Méridien citizens. You’ve no authority here, and we require you depart this system immediately.”
“You’ve a most interesting manner of treating your citizens, Ser … incarcerating them on a dead moon in a dead system. But you’ve touched on the reason we’re here. We wish to ask your Independents whether they want to remain Méridien citizens.”
Cordelia waited patiently for a response, as the silence dragged on. The SADE could imagine the intense discussion taking place on the platform’s bridge. It was unnecessary for Cordelia to check whether the connection was still active. An app in her crystal kernel, which monitored the ship’s comms system, would inform her immediately if the link was dropped.
When no reply seemed forthcoming from the platform, Cordelia glanced to her left at Alex Racine, wondering what the architect of this jaunt into Confederation space was thinking. Alex leaned against an unattended bridge panel, arms folded, and his eyes staring into space, while he waited for the conversation to continue.
“Captain Cordelia, this is Maynard Scullers. I’m the manager of this orbital platform, and I respectfully request you include my staff and me in your discussions with those below. You see, we’re all Independents here.”
Maynard heard the delightful tinkling of silver bells, musical and soothing, over the platform bridge speakers. He glanced left and right at his operation’s personnel, who wore myriad expressions ranging from smiles to confusion.
“Captain, am I speaking to a SADE?” Maynard asked cautiously.
“Yes, Ser Scullers.”
“A SADE who’s the captain of a Libran city-ship … is Alex Racine aboard?” Maynard asked, hoping with all his might that liberation was sailing toward him.
Cordelia glanced at Alex, who shrugged his shoulders, which she took to mean that it was her decision as to how she should choose to answer.
Tatia Tachenko, Haraken’s ex-admiral, smiled and gently shook her head. Everyone who worked in Alex’s immediate sphere was forced, at one time or another, to apply their own interpretations to his favorite enigmatic gesture.
“He might be,” Cordelia replied, drawing out her words, as she often heard Alex do. From the Freedom’s bridge speakers burst the sound of laughter, cheers, and clapping, originating from what was obviously a room full of people aboard the orbital platform.
Maynard regained some control, hushing his people, and leaned into the comm pickup to ensure he was heard. “Well, Captain Cordelia, I can’t speak for anyone else aboard this platform or below, but you can sign me up.”
“Sign you up to what, Ser?” Cordelia asked.
“I don’t care, Captain. If Alex Racine is involved, I want to be aboard!”
The twins, Étienne and Alain de Long, exchanged glances.
“How do you transport the Independents below, Ser Scullers?” Cordelia asked.
“We’ve only two shuttles, Captain, but they’re both travelers.”
“And how many Independents are incarcerated on Daelon?”
Laughter and whistles again broke through the Freedom’s speakers. Those on the bridge could hear Maynard quieting his people. “You’ll have to forgive us,
Captain. We’re the only ones to have ever used that word … incarceration. Counting the moon base and the platform, we have 18,289 people.”
Cordelia glanced at Alex, who was frowning. Julien, her partner, sent a private query to Cordelia, which she relayed. “We expected many more, Ser Scullers.”
“Understandable, Captain. For a few years after Libre’s evacuation, which was with Ser Racine’s assistance, the annual number arriving here was fairly constant. But when Gino Diamanté replaced Mahima Ganesh as Council Leader, the count of individuals transported here slowed dramatically. In the first half of this year, we received one-eighth of the people who were shipped here in the same time period during Daelon’s first year.
“You seem well-informed of the historical numbers, Ser Scullers,” Alex said, activating the bridge’s vid side of the comm signal and stepping into view. “How long have you been on Daelon?”
Maynard glanced around the platform’s control room. His people stared at their monitors, taking in the view of Alex Racine. There was no mistaking the wide build of the famous, or infamous, depending on your viewpoint, New Terran, who sported a heavy-worlder body, which was in considerable contrast to the slender physiques of the Méridiens, who inhabited the Confederation. Maynard’s people nodded their heads enthusiastically to him, responding to his unspoken query, their eyes gleaming in anticipation.
“Ser Racine,” Maynard replied, tears forming in his eyes, and his throat threatening to close, “I had the dubious honor of disembarking from a Confederation ship twenty years ago along with others and becoming the first inhabitants of this fine establishment. Before that, I was the director of a premier orbital station, responsible for starship construction, until I made the mistake of openly criticizing Ganesh.”
“Good to hear, Ser,” Alex replied.
A scowl formed on Maynard’s face. For a moment, he thought he had misinterpreted why Alex Racine had come to Daelon.
“I meant the part of being a director responsible for starship construction,” Alex added. “I can’t offer much in the way of compensation, at first, but if you’re interested, I have a job for you.”
The tears that had swum in Maynard’s eyes spilled down his face, and he fought to control his emotions, managing to croak out, “Does room and board come with the job, Ser?”
“It does, but, I warn you, Ser, it’ll be a demanding job,” Alex replied.
“Sign me up, Ser,” Maynard replied, and those on the Freedom’s bridge watched Maynard drop below his vid’s view, but they could hear his sobs and hiccups.
“We’ll see you soon, Ser Scullers,” Alex said. “Send no comms below of our expected arrival, if you please. It’ll be our job to communicate why we’re here.”
A young woman, tears streaking her face, stepped into the vid’s pickup. “We understand, Ser Racine,” she said, glancing down, presumably at Maynard. “And might I add from all of us here on the platform … welcome to Daelon, Ser.”
“Thank you,” Alex replied and cut the comm.
Alex looked to the side, where his love and partner, Renée de Guirnon, leaned against another deactivated bridge station.
Tears floated in Renée’s eyes, but anger twisted the planes of her exquisite face. “When will the Confederation stop imprisoning innocent citizens?” she asked hotly. Her fists were balled in frustration at her home world’s attitude toward anyone who violated the Confederation’s strict rules of behavior. She felt Alex’s heavily muscled arms sweep her into his embrace, but in an uncharacteristic display for her, she shoved back and sent Alex an emphatic,
If it wasn’t for Renée’s comm, Alex might not have released her. Her outburst took him by surprise, and he watched her exit the bridge in haste.
Alain sent to his twin.
Étienne sent in reply.
Comms flew between those on the bridge, expressing concern for Renée, but, as expected, no one vocalized their thoughts. In the midst of so many extraordinary experiences, throughout the past two decades, Renée had been the center of calm and reason, and Alex’s emotional anchor. Now, the Harakens regarded Alex with concern, if not worry, on their faces.
“It appears we might need to walk softly around my partner, for a while,” Alex said to the group. “Back to your duties, people; we’ve some time yet before we reach Daelon.” Alex exited the bridge with Julien, Tatia, and the twins in tow.
Renée stalked back to her suite, remonstrating herself for her behavior on the bridge. She managed to send a quick apology and a love missive to Alex. In reply, Renée received a full image of Alex. His face became gooey, smitten by her attentions, and then his entire body melted into a puddle. Goof, she thought, and a burble of laughter escaped her lips, as she gained the cabin’s door.
For much of her life, Renée believed deeply in the values of Méridien’s culture and societal norms, but during the past twenty years, since her awakening from stasis, her eyes had been opened to many of its flaws. The incarceration of good people, judged and labeled as Independents for violating the Confederation’s arcane rules, had become too much.
Renée’s anger at her society resolved to a single thought, which was directed at the Confederation’s Council of Leaders. If Alex has his way, there will be 18,289 fewer Independents buried on your moon. Then maybe you’ll learn.
* * *
Tatia decided to break the awkward silence, while Alex, Julien, the twins, and she walked the huge ship’s wide corridor. “So, Daelon has eighteen-thousand Independents. It’s a good start, but you look severely disappointed, Alex.”
“A little,” Alex replied absentmindedly, his mind absorbed with thoughts of Renée.
“How many were you expecting?” Tatia asked.
“Somewhere between 50K and 100K people.”
“Big difference,” Tatia acknowledged.
“Huge difference. Might have to go with plan B,” Alex replied
“Good to hear you’re still thinking ahead, Alex. What’s plan B?”
“Recruit the Dischnya,” Alex replied.
Tatia was stunned and kept her mouth from hanging open. She dearly hoped Alex was joking.
In contrast, Julien and Cordelia briefly shared thoughts on the concept, and the two SADEs simply reorganized their hierarchical algorithms, postulated potential obstacles, and determined the probabilities of future outcomes.
Étienne replied.
Tatia reined in her imagination. “Alex, you’re not seriously considering letting those dog warriors you encountered on Celus-5 … the same ones who tried to kill you … board our ships and act as crew!”
“It was only two of the Dischnya who tried to kill me,” Alex replied, trying to minimize the impact of his remark.
“It only takes one dog warrior, if he’s a good shot,” Tatia riposted.
“Okay, Tatia,” Alex said, assuming a command voice and intending to focus her. “Let’s start with you learning to say Dischnya. No time like the present to practice.”
“But how is it possible to have the warriors aboard our ships, if they can’t be separated from their queen?” Tatia asked, her strategic planning skills dominating her thoughts.
“They can, but only for a short length of time,” Alex replied. “T
hat’s probably the number-one challenge for plan B.”
Tatia’s steps slowed, and then she stopped in the corridor, as she considered the implications of Alex’s plan B, while he walked on.
Julien passed her, and he politely tipped his virtual fedora, which he projected from his synth-skin.
* * *
Fifteen days ago, Alex ordered the city-ship Freedom launched from Haraken’s orbit. It carried a small collection of humans and SADEs on a ship that easily accommodated a quarter million individuals. The ship hadn’t been updated with Haraken technology in more than two decades, and a refit was initiated by Alex after taking possession of the ship but wasn’t completed before launch. Much of the equipment to complete the ship’s refit sat piled in several cavernous bays.
While still on Haraken, Julien and Cordelia affirmed to Alex that the refit supply orders were fulfilled and delivered. They acknowledged the work could continue aboard ship without issue. That was when Alex approached Cordelia with a job offer. “I need a captain,” Alex had told her. “The salary won’t be anything like your income as a Central Exchange director, I’m afraid.”
“I’ve come to appreciate the value of commerce, Alex,” Cordelia replied, “and the freedom a generous income gives me to pursue my desires. However, in this case, I’m sorely tempted to pay you for the privilege of becoming the first SADE to captain a starship. So, I offer a compromise.”
“I’m listening,” Alex replied.
“I believe you paid the enormous sum of one credit for this ship?”