by William Cray
Daren threw off the weird feeling as Traya began to moan. He moved with her as she straddled him. He tried to concentrate on Traya but the feeling persisted. He looked over at the man who wasn’t there, sitting across from him and Traya on the couch. The stranger continued to sit there alone, his eyes closed. The man is of no consequence. Traya pulled him closer.
As he continued to move with Traya he began thinking about work. About his time as a structural engineer with Triton years ago. At the very pinnacle of release, the most intense sexual experience he had ever had, all he could think about was thermo-molecular bonding techniques.
10
City of Assembled Worlds Security Dome
San Juan, Puerto Rico
Earth, Sol
Blaine Crassis extended his hand in greeting. It was not a pleasant task, nor a thing he wished to do, but the requirements of his post often required he do distasteful things at times. Things he felt were beneath his dignity, but he would do them none-the-less, because the Emperor asked them of him, and being asked to do anything by humanity’s savior was an honor. Sometimes such honors required a small degree of personal sacrifice, even if you were sullied by its execution.
Regia Tonaska took the offered hand and returned it with warmth that Crassis knew was part of her diplomatic arsenal. She was lovely and disarming, but a shrewd operator in diplomatic circles. Being a woman of age and experience did not lessen her charm or the manner in which she employed them. But Crassis knew she was a dire enemy of the Emperor and everything his entire honorable regime had stood for. Despite the warm greetings of Representative Tonaska, this would be a brutal session, with the grievances of four hundred years to be laid at the feet of the Cannis Dynasty. This meeting presented difficulties but Crassis did have one very important advantage. He needed nothing from her and her Martian constituency, and ultimately, she needed everything from him. He needed only to offer a helping hand, and have it slapped away to succeed. If she took the hand, there would be complications, but that too could be woven in to the tapestry of the Emperors’ ultimate purpose here.
Accompanying Tonaska was Roberto Giconna, the Commonwealth Deputy Minister of Interior Affairs. His efforts in bringing together this meeting was instrumental, and although acting as a good faith broker in this meeting, he was firmly in Crassis’s corner. Giconna grasped the possibilities this meeting could produce, for the Commonwealth and his career. For him the hard part was done. Deliver Tonaska to Crassis, and arrange that it occur in the Imperial Consulate.
They walked the few steps into the Embassy library after greetings, conversing idly and exchanging pleasantries before sitting in comfortable formas around a low table. Dressed in Imperial uniforms, the stewards attending the office seated the trio. Tonaska complimented Crassis on the architecture and elegance of the embassy, but Crassis could detect her displeasure at being seated by a man wearing the Imperial Black and Red. Rarely in human history had a uniform been so divisive. Some saw the uniform as a symbol of tyranny against freedom, others believed men wearing that uniform had saved humanity from itself and from the hovering dark threats of the universe.
Despite the misgivings she had against the uniform, the library seemed to brighten her. The Embassy library belonged in a museum, a collection of invaluable artifacts from ancient times, saved by the Congress of Science after the flares of the Twenty-Second. The stewards served them the finest traditional Jiri, and Crassis dismissed them, leaving the three diplomats alone in the vast library. Crassis watched Regia Tonaska fold her hands in her lap, waiting for the diplomatic dance to begin.
“Representative Tonaska, I have asked to meet with you on a very sensitive matter. If the matter were not so urgent, I would never have imposed upon you so directly. Having discussed the matter with Deputy Minister Giaconna, he believed it necessary that we meet in person. I am indebted to him and the Commonwealth for being instrumental in making this happen.”
Tonaska smiled, nodding in response but remained silent.
Crassis continued, “As you know, Emperor Cannis, has many commercial interests on Mars, interests that serve the entirety of human space, and any perceived threat against the Protectorate of Mars is of great concern not only to the Emperor personally, but ultimately to the security of mankind.”
Crassis watched Regia take in the information with a practiced repose, then she unleashed.
“Ambassador, it seems that any perceived threat, no matter where in human space, the Emperor deems to be a threat to mankind’s security. Two costly wars against an enemy far from our shores, an invasion of Earth from another still unexplained source, and in the face of oppressive taxation and non-representative governments, a call from rightful citizens for the right of self-determination, have all resulted in an increase of the Emperor’s emergency powers. It rarely seems a crisis is born that does not in someway benefit the Emperor.”
Crassis now smiled in return. He had prepared for the first obvious counterstatement by Tonaska, and the next. It was all part of the dance and until the song was changed, they would follow the steps. Crassis liked the tune and wouldn’t dream of changing it.
“Madame Representative, humanity exists today because of hard decisions made by a great family who rose to the occasion. And I believe you stand here today, representing a great independent world, because the Emperor you so revile, voluntarily stepped down from the throne, so that the concerns of his subjects could be addressed without prejudice. But there can not be any debate, that when crisis has arrived at the door of humanity, the burden for its solution has been delivered to the Cannis family for four hundred years.”
“Yes, Ambassador Crassis, the Emperor has served mankind well in crisis, but in the process has served himself even greater. The people of Mars have been beholden to the Imperial family for hundreds of years, and are grateful for the efforts the Emperor and his predecessors have made in the pursuit of a living Mars, but any expressions made by our people to take some of the burden from the Emperor and make our own way, have been met by royal boots and blood.” Tonaska countered never abandoning her diplomatic stoicism.
A moment of uncomfortable silence followed her statement as Crassis sipped from his cup, looking on, completely in control.
Ending the silence, Giaconna interrupted, playing perfectly his role of mediator. “Please, my friends. We all understand that there are long unresolved grievances between you. Perhaps it is best if we deal with the present. Then we can use this as a building block to the resolution of these historical issues. Please Ambassador Crassis, let us bring the matter to hand.”
Crassis nodded, “Yes of course. That had always been my intent Deputy Minister. Forgive me.” He looked at Tonaska who remained stone-faced.
“Very well, in the interests of diplomacy.” She said. “However, I believe the people of Mars will be highly skeptical of any perceived threat, revealed to us though the interests of the Old Emperor. It also seems to me that if the Imperial holdings have information regarding a threat to the Protectorate of Mars, they should immediately grant us access to those sources to confirm the threat and bring about its safe conclusion.” She smiled, taking the cup of warm Jiri to her lips.
Crassis opened a pre-positioned folder in front of him and removed a single filament sheet from within. Without looking at it, he passed the flyer to Regia, who took it. “It is time for some good faith between us. I hope you will accept the unusual access the Emperor has granted as a symbol of our intent and goodwill in this matter. You may review if for as long as you like, but I am not authorized to allow you to keep it. Is this satisfactory?”
Tonaska examined the blue tinted sheet, information passing across it as each tiny reflective particle danced into organized words and moving images, while she scrolled the information up and down with her long fingered hand. Finally she looked up at Crassis. “I am deeply disturbed by this Ambassador Crassis.”
“As were we.”
Tonaska took a very pensive tone, a look of deep concern creasing
her violet lips. “From this information, the Imperial Ministry of Intelligence is conducting active surveillance operations in New Meridian City, despite the protocols against such operations. The Emperor is spying on Mars.”
Crassis took a deep breath, resting his hands together on the tabletop. Looking as pensive as his diplomatic training would allow. “I understand that you would be disturbed by this revelation. It is unfortunate that these methods were required by the lack of suitable intelligence on threats to the Emperor’s interests on Mars and the amnesty your government granted to certain terrorist organizations after the rebellion…”
“That was seventy years ago Ambassador Crassis.” Tonaska interrupted. She slid the filament sheet away from her in disgust. “The Concords of Abdication state clearly that any activities conducted by the Emperor’s Intelligence apparatus are to be purely external in focus.”
“We have the right, like any other free entity within the Commonwealth, to protect our interests despite the apparatus that is used, interests which by the way, serve a great deal to bolster the poor performance of the Martian economy. If you will not allow us to take countermeasures and you will not, or cannot, safeguard our interests, then the Emperor will be compelled to reconsider the decision to maintain sensitive industries on Martian soil. After all, preventing the loss of life is what is at issue here.”
Tonaska leaned back into her chair, brushing a wisp of hair from her brow in a smooth practiced motion. She smiled at Giaconna then turned to Crassis. “I thank you for passing this information to us Ambassador Crassis. I will relay it to the Office of State. I hope to be able to bring you an answer within the day. And rest assured we will increase security at the appropriate areas.”
Tonaska, Giconna and Crassis all stood. “Thank you Representative.” Crassis said. “It is only twenty men and women. They will be in orbit day after tomorrow. I promise you this will be handled quietly.”
Within a few minutes Regia Tonaska was airborne and on her way back to the Martian Diplomatic Mission near the hills of Gurabo, southeast of the capital. San Juan was again a beautiful city. She had arrived from Mars three weeks after the conclusion of the Intruder occupation. The devastation around the capital had been overwhelming. After the Intruders had been driven away the bodies had been piled into mass graves, spotted all over the landscape. The stench of the nine-foot tall bipedal Intruder beasts had assaulted her nostrils as their dissected corpses were incinerated in massive pyres.
Most of the Commonwealth government at San Juan had died when the Intruder mind control ceased to dominate their thoughts. Ministers, cabinet members, parliament, lower functionaries, and the entire military general staff had collapsed and died. Aides and civil workers fell in the streets dead or comatose.
The aftermath and recovery effort was a monumental task, with the most basic instruments of civil authority wiped out in a matter of moments. Everything had to be reconstructed from scratch. Official counts of dead had been unreliable, with the low number being in the hundreds of thousands. All of those that had died occurred withing the span of a few minutes when the Intruder mind control towers and satellites were slagged by the liberating human forces, their very minds ripped open from the sudden absence of domination.
But again, the Emperor, safe on his fortress world around Jupiter, was completely unaffected and had been there to pick up the pieces as usual. Even from his self-imposed exile, he had been ready. His prestige and power had only increased following the epic human disaster.
And now that arrogant shit Crassis, had presented her with a scenario that once again would make the most powerful man in the universe a victim of those who were ungrateful enough to accept his almighty benevolence. Old Man Cannis would cry foul against those who would deny him the basic human right of self-defense, Regia thought acidly.
It was all a sham. Everything about it. The Emperor had spied on Mars and its citizens, allegedly uncovering a plot by some radical separatist group to attack his many varied interests in New Meridian City, the heart of anti-Imperial sentiment during the Red Revolution. And all he wanted was the right to land a small security detachment to watch over his assets because he believed local law enforcement, at a minimum was ambivalent to the threat, or at worse culpable in the plot. Twenty Imperial cyborgs were what Crassis meant by a ‘small’ detachment. The damage those beasts could cause was unfathomable if unleashed. She would have to warn Elijah Cole of the possibility of their presence.
If Prime Minister Mikoyan denied permission for the security detachment to land and an actual attack took place, the Emperor could play the victim to the interspace community and would try to push through even greater independence for his estates throughout the galaxy. If permission were granted for this small team of Imperials, the very sovereignty of Mars would be diminished by its perceived inability to protect its citizens, possibly opening up the long discussed annexation of Mars by the Commonwealth and the loss of its fiercely defended independence.
Crassis and his master had conjured a no win scenario for the Martian Protectorate. But only if there were an attack, Regia thought. If no attack occurred, or if the intelligence was not accurate then this would blow over and the delicate status quo would be maintained. Therefore, it was a political necessity for Mars that no attack could be allowed. The report shown to her by Crassis and recorded by her optical implants, had pointed to Habitation Dome 11 as the most likely origin for separatist activity. Regia knew the Zone was the Wild West and anything happening in there only happened with the consent of the organized crime syndicates. Could they be involved, she wondered? Why would they be involved? It went against any criminal principle to expose themselves in politics. Criminals who stuck their heads up too far got crushed in the process. She knew about a rash of gruesome suicides in New Meridian City. It was all over the skybands, and she wondered if they were somehow involved. Regardless, everything pointed to the Radiation Exclusion Zone.
The Zone was a stain on Mars. It was an open sore that her people hadn’t the resources to resolve, and the Emperor, in anger, denied them massive subsidies from his treasury to clean up the disaster that he at least shared culpability with. Instead the Martian people endured the ramifications of the Power Dome 3 disaster and coped by digging deeper into the ground. But now the disasters fallout reached down into the city.
The Emperor has even turned this against us, she thought. We have ignored the problem for too long, and although the issue cannot be resolved in one night, perhaps there was an opportunity here. An opportunity to right something that should have been dealt with more than a generation ago.
Her lifter arrived at the Mars Protectorate Mission, settling down on its pads, tussling the wild flora growing around her quaint embassy, a wildness that would never grow on her native world. Earth’s heavy gravity weighed on her today. She needed another acclimation treatment soon, but Regia wouldn’t undergo it until this crisis had passed. She would suffer the uncomfortable press of the atmosphere and the Earth Standard Gravity her pre-flare ancestors had been born into.
Her report to Prime Minister Mikoyan would include the information recorded in her optic implant as well as her diplomatic take on the meeting, but unlike her usual diplomatic communiqués of strict analysis, Tonaska would also include a recommendation.
She believed the only way to avoid this situation was to be proactive. Her solution could cut the old decrepit Emperor off at the knees and make His Eminence vomit on himself as he composed the letter of thanks he would be compelled to send Prime Minister Mikoyan. If they were to head off the clever political entrapment, the fledgling Protectorate of Mars would have to act decisively and boldly, perhaps before they were ready.
It was dangerous, but delightful.
Duran collapsed to one knee as the pressure drove into him. A flashing strobe of brilliance then complete darkness disoriented and overwhelmed his senses, filling the void with the intensity of images he had never before exp
erienced. In the torrent, he glimpsed the other dark ones, like himself, falling, one by one to the cascade. They bent and folded, each in turn, reaching out with bright claws and spewing fire. They lashed out in futility for the unseen object of their torment. He could hear screams echoing through the suffocating air. He didn’t know who was screaming in the dark, but when he could no longer breath, the anguish mercifully stopped.
The floor beneath him was a pool of red, his hands drenched in the sticky substance as the popping in his mind drove him down further. He caught the weight of his immolated body at the last moment, preventing a face first plummet into the black-red floor. The other black figures had melded into the darkness, like phantoms sinking into a lake of fire. Their silence marked their surrender to the pressure. They were lost but their suffering left hollow husks behind in the pit.
Duran glanced behind him, praying that salvation would pursue him into the depths and retrieve him from his unholy journey into the mouth of the beast. He did not care if providence pulled him out, only that they ended his suffering and did not leave him to be like the others now. The others had followed him down, they had trusted him, and now their hollow forms lay still on the crimson floor.
But salvation was not behind him; it was in front, climbing up from the blood red floor. The shape rose up, and stood before him. He reached out to it as the form turned to him. Drawing hope, he tried to stand to meet the form but the pain was too great. He cried out to the black shape in the flashing darkness. His salvation turned to him slowly, but it too was badly maimed by the onslaught and would not last long. He cried out and reached for the only mortal source of strength he could find and it weakly turned to him. The form reached out pitifully, but Duran drew strength from it.
The pain began to recede, the cascade now a distant waterfall, a calm stream revealing itself in front of him. The pressure was still there. Its rush was irresistible, but for a moment he was not alone resisting the onslaught. The form came to him.
