Zero Star

by Chad Huskins

  “Go on.”

  “Three things,” Pennick said, plucking a piece of fruit from one stall as they strolled along. He squeezed it, sniffed it, and tossed it back in its basket. Then he waved away a Christer who approached him in the street, bearing a pamphlet on the Holy Truth.

  “First, the Senate will have control of your mission through Second Fleet’s Visquain. Second, an oversight committee will be established, headed up by me, with five other members nominated by the Two Consuls. You will have to send daily updates to the committee, no exceptions. It will be the committee’s reports the Senate hears each month, and they will determine how and if your Crusade continues.”

  Kalder nodded. “I would prefer it if my Crusade Fleet had its own Visquain.”

  Pennick smiled. “Oh, I am sure you would. With you as a member, no doubt. But being answerable to both the Visquain and the Senate’s committee gives the Two Consuls both military and government oversight on your little venture.”

  “It would make it much easier for us to answer directly to the Senate, rather than adding to the workload of Second’s Visquain.”

  “Those are the conditions, Kalder. You must answer to Second’s Visquain. Take it or leave it.”

  Kalder considered this. “All right, then.”

  He was a patient man, and had been prepping for this day for decades, but things were moving quickly now and he was quite surprised at the progress he and Julian had made. So he was quite all right with the first two conditions, seeing as how he was getting more than he had dared hope. As for the Visquain thing…he could find a workaround. In fact, he had already thought of one, though it would require careful timing.

  “And the third condition?” he said, stepping around a line of people waiting for the Aid Outlet to open.

  “Second Fleet must first finish its business in the Phanes System,” said Pennick, staring straight ahead with a hard gaze. Kalder could tell that this was the part of the conversation he dreaded. “The Senate is committed to securing this world, as it is a garden world, and has potential to accept refugees and build new industry. Assuming the Machine Ascendancy can be held off, of course.”

  Kalder experienced the ghost of vexations past, and shook his head. “Such an engagement could take years,” he said. “Even after that, a contingent will have to be left behind to police it, and ensure that the Ascendancy does not return. And that’s if Second Fleet isn’t totally obliterated.”

  “This decision came from all fronts, Kalder. The Senate, the Visquain, the War Council, and the Primacy itself.”

  Well, that made it about as thoroughly stonewalled as it could be. The Senate had control over the government in the Imperator’s absence, and the Primacy had long been the aegis that defended what was left of the Republic through the use of the War Council and its commissioners. The Visquain were those loose groups of generals and admirals in each fleet that made the day-to-day decisions of their fleet. If they were all in agreement, he could see no way to strong-arm them, and the fact that they had come even this far was a blessing.

  “Very well,” Kalder said. “When do we leave?”

  “As soon as Tenth Fleet arrives, which will be sometime tomorrow, I’m assured,” said Pennick. “You’ll be traveling with a small group of them—two cruisers, a destroyer, and a frigate—to rendezvous with Second Fleet at Phanes. The Visquain have asked that you help in negotiations with the Phanes political structure, such as it is, which is headed up by the High Priestess of some faith or other, as well as a thaneship.”

  Kalder nodded. “I’m familiar with some of the details.”

  “Good, because nobody else seems to be. The Phanes colonies have been cut off too long, and not always because of our enemies. Our last reconnaissance there was ten years ago, and the people of Widden seem to have embraced the isolation they were forced into a century ago, and have evolved into something quite different than what the Republic left behind. Industries and corporations run by cults, humans worshipping the gods of some alien race that’s barely been documented, a priestess who uses augmented DNA to mix with her own and create a female-only patrician ruling class. Thanes run the day-to-day business of the four megalopolises, but the High Priestess of the Faith controls them through a state religion that worships some creature…Nahl or Mahl? Their god is believed to rest in a black hole, but that’s all we know. Strange business.”

  “I will do my best to aid the Visquain while I’m there,” Kalder said.

  “My people in the Corporate Arm were impressed with your stellarpath’s course,” said Pennick. “So impressed, it seems, that it gave them extra confidence, and you have been granted one more favor. You will be able to choose your own military head of expedition. Basically a liaison between you and the Visquain. I’ve suggested Hayg.”

  Kalder looked at him. “The Grand Marshal? But he’s retired.”

  “Yes, he is. But he’s also more politically active these days. He’s even considered making a run at the Senate. He said he just has the problem of not knowing what system he’d be representing.” Pennick laughed. “I told him that’s never stopped you!”

  Kalder nodded. “I will speak with him.”

  But in truth, he already sensed trouble, for the Grand Marshal had always been one of Hossel’s creatures.

  “To tell you the truth,” Pennick said, “I worry for the future of Second Fleet.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Primacy Intelligence has gotten some new readings from the edge of Phanes, they now believe the Ascendancy’s fighting force could be larger than conservative estimates suggested.” Pennick looked at him. “They’re going to need help, Kalder.”

  Add it to the list of things to do before saving Man from its Fall, Kalder thought. Handle Hayg first, then find a way to supply Second Fleet with the reinforcements it needs, then take some Tenth Fleet ships to Phanes and negotiate for open trade with Widden’s Wardeness.

  He would not be a true Zeroist if he did not accept the challenge openly.

  “What of the Queen of Mothers?” Kalder asked. “Has PI figured out what the Brood did to her?”

  “Her body is still being analyzed, I’m told. PI says the reproductive cycle of the nanites injected into her body are making it difficult, as they tend to quickly heal whatever dissection cuts the autopsists make.” Pennick gave a small shiver. “It troubles me, this influence the Harbingers and alien thoughts have over our people.”

  “On that, Pennick, we can agree. Which brings me to one last matter I wish to discuss.” He used his holotab to send a message to Pennick’s private pubnet address. “I’ve just sent you the initial write-up that Julian and I have put together for the Xeno Nonconformist Act. I wish you would look it over, and tell me what you think.”

  Pennick took out his holotab and looked at the long piece of legislation that Kalder had just sent him. His brow furrowed. “Just when I thought you could not give any more surprises.” He looked at Kalder. “You’re going to bring this before the Senate?”

  “I am. With your help. And if you look at recent Faith 6A reports, you will see that many of the constituents in your system and the corporations you represent would be in favor of these measures.”

  Pennick scrolled through the legislation, and paused to read one piece he found most alarming. “ ‘Be it enacted by the Imperator’s most trusted and august Senate, as well as the House of Assembly of the Republic of Aligned Worlds: Any Terran male who has illicit carnal intercourse with a xenos of any sex, and any Terran female who has illicit carnal intercourse with a xenos of any sex, in circumstances which do not amount to rape, or indecent assault, shall be guilty of an offense and liable on conviction to imprisonment for a period not exceeding six years.’ ” He looked at Kalder. “You’re forbidding sex between humans and any other alien race?”

  “It is part of a measure I plan to enact that will dissuade us from falling to alien indoctrinations.”

  “It is an apartheid,” Pennick countered.
He did not sound disgusted, only like he was pointing out a key point. “I’m also seeing regulations against the practice of any xeno-based religion?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  Pennick looked at him seriously. “You’ve gained so much recently. You’ve dealt hard to get your Crusade, and you’ve been given an unprecedented amount of latitude in this endeavor. You would risk it all for a piece of legislation that prohibits the exercising of certain religions and the fucking of aliens?”

  “I’m a Restorationist,” said Kalder. “And restoration begins by remembering who and what we are. And that begins by making sure we make taboo those everyday actions that normalize acquiescence to xeno influences.” He looked at the bigger man. “We see it little on this asteroid, Pennick, because our population is overwhelmingly human, but on all those desperate worlds that are still under our control, they are mixing cultures. Orgies of men and women, despondent over the Fall of Man, have fallen victim to the words of those xeno cultures that are perceived to be flourishing. It only intensifies the downward spiral by throwing all caution to the wind and throwing in with religions from alien worlds, or having intercourse with strange beings who belong only in grotesqueries.”

  “This is extreme, Kalder,” said Pennick. “I knew that you’ve always been wary of alien threats to human civilization, but I never thought you would go this far.”

  “Does that mean I don’t have your support?”

  Pennick looked at him. He knew he had done much to make Kalder bend even a little, and that was a small victory, but if he stood against Kalder now he might lose what good faith he had earned. Kalder might not support him in a future bid for the Imperator’s seat. Also, Faith 6A would bear out what Kalder had said, there were plenty of people who secretly wanted something like this in place, to keep humanity pure and help restore it to its erstwhile glory.

  “If I support this,” Pennick said slowly, “will that mean that I could count on your support for the emoluments amendment?”

  The Emoluments Clause had always been the bane of a Corporatist’s existence. It crippled them from making too much money off of their decisions in the senate, by ensuring they could not have too large a stake in any corporations that might benefit from the laws the Corporate Arm passed. It was an insurance against conflicts of interest.

  “I already granted you one bill of any choice that you wish for me to support,” Kalder said. “You chose Proprietary World Rights. I will not grant you a second boon.”

  Pennick looked like he might argue, but then he remembered who he was talking to.

  Kalder does not bend.

  “Let me think about it,” Pennick said.

  They left it at that.

  THE LIFT OPENED onto a veranda overlooking Sublime Room 2. Kalder stepped off the car and into the strange, cold humidity of the factory floor. There was half a dozen workers just getting off shift, and waiting to come aboard. Trix moved ahead of his master and cleared a path, half shoving, half insinuating violence. Kalder moved in the security bot’s wake.

  Like the rest of Monarch, the rock floors in the sublimation chambers were jagged and uneven. Having been carved out quickly by an army of older-model bots, the tunnels had been set up as both a receiving and processing center for all the ice being brought over from Quelth. Monarch was big enough to form a makeshift capital, but Quelth, the neighboring D-type asteroid that followed Monarch’s orbit, provided most of what had sustained the population.

  The masticators took the ice and ground it up, siphoning some of it into these sublimation rooms so that they could be turned instantly into steam. The water allowed Monarch’s technicians to make hydrogen peroxide, which was a decent propellant in lieu of pycno and other ideal energy sources. The water could also be split into hydrogen and oxygen to fuel some of the bigger engines around the station.

  The catwalks that he walked barefooted were cold and coated with the vapor that escaped some of the filters and pipes that ran across the walls and ceiling like varicose veins, stretching out in tortured branches and forcibly merged in places by the clunky spider bots that scuttled across the stone. The walls wept and refroze, wept and refroze, in an endless cycle.

  Kalder huffed, his breath coming out in great clouds. He maintained his posture, and endured the cold without clutching his robes tightly. The cold found its way into him, biting at his back, his ass, his balls. The moisture in the air clung to him and his robe, forming hoarfrost all over him by the time he reached the far end of Sublime Room 3. Here, there was the greatest, most sweeping viewpoint on all of Monarch.

  At bay three, the retired Grand Marshal of the Republican Navy was waiting for him, resplendent in his uniform and his officer’s cloak—the cloak was more formal, but probably also kept him warm. The Grand Marshal was speaking to someone that Kalder couldn’t see, most likely visible on his imtech. Hayg was looking out the wide observation window at the froth of stars and the hazy blue-white trail of Quelth yonder, and turned to greet Kalder with a smile.

  “Senator,” he said softly, and gave a brief salute. The salute was for many things: for Kalder’s years of previous military service that shouldn’t be forgotten, for the respect he’d earned for years of fealty to the Imperator and service to the Senate, and, of course, for the sake of his new command.

  “Hayg,” Kalder said, coming to a stop a few feet from him. He did not return the salute, and if there was any offense taken, Grand Marshal Yez’in Hayg did not show it. For everyone knew and respected Kalder’s beliefs—saluting, for him, was a waste of a Zeroist’s time and effort. Salutes and handshakes were a part of his past now, gratefully forgotten. “Your resilience is commendable. It is good to see some of those who honor the Old Ways are still committed to the uniform.”

  A brief smile. “And it’s good to see you, as well, old friend,” Hayg said. Then he chuckled. “I know. Such titles as friend mean nothing to one so wise as you. But please, permit a fool to indulge in nostalgia.”

  If Kalder still smiled, he might have allowed himself one just now. “Very well.” He nodded towards the vacuum waiting just a few millimeters on the other side of the plasteel. “They’re on their way?”

  “I expect them any moment,” Hayg said. “Come to see the glory of a fully assembled naval complement again? Been a while since such a sizable portion of our fleets have been brought together as one.”

  “I only require a small force,” he assured Hayg.

  The Grand Marshal smiled, and the scar on the right side of his face shifted his beard strangely. “You don’t fool me, old man. I remember who you are. And I also know that one who reveres the Old Ways as much as you do doesn’t just come down here to make sure the fleet arrives on time.” He shook his head, and the smile grew bigger. “You still love to see the ships. The artistry. The glory of an assembled interstellar force.”

  Kalder gave it some thought, and found the truth in himself. “I don’t suppose I’ll ever fully shake the appreciation I have for a thing well built, or for a force efficiently run. As you say, artistry.”

  Hayg’s eyebrows retreated nearly to his hairline. “My, my. What would the Republic think if they knew I’d gotten Kalder to admit he holds a soft spot for something?”

  Kalder said nothing.

  Hayg glanced over Kalder’s shoulder. “Looks like you’ve also changed your mind on conservative security measures. The bot yours?”

  “An assassin tried to kill me.”

  The Grand Marshal’s humor evaporated like the ice sublimating in the tubes all around them. “Pardon me?”

  “An investigation is underway, I suspect it was someone in the Senate. Probably Hossel.”

  “The…Senate? Hossel?”

  Kalder took some steps closer to the viewport, and gazed at Quelth. “Few things are sacred now. It’s the kind of moral turpitude we can expect from here on out.” In the viewport’s reflection, he could see that Hayg was about to say something else, but Kalder cut along a different path. “It seems
so close, doesn’t it?”

  Hayg blinked. “Sorry, what?”

  “It’s the one big riddle that still puzzles me about it all. Size. Space. That thing over there,” he pointed, “is an asteroid nearly five hundred miles away. It’s so massive that it’s been shedding ice for thousands of years and still hasn’t run out. Such a massive thing, and us so tiny. Yet from here, I would swear that you are larger. That the Senate is larger. That all of us are bigger than that lump of ice and rock hurtling through space.” He scratched his chin. “When something is physically close, it appears large to us, and when it is far away, it appears small. Does that not just perfectly encapsulate Man’s myopic view of his future?”

  He nodded thoughtfully.

  “When I was a boy, it occurred to me that it’s impossible to reach out and touch anything, whether it be an asteroid in space or a cup on a table. For, in order to reach the cup on the table, you have to first get halfway to the table. But before you can get halfway to the table, you must first get a quarter of the way to the table. And of course, before you can get a quarter there, you must first get an eighth of the way there, and so on into infinity. I asked the question: How can you reach the table if you have an infinite number of incremental measurements to cross first?”

  The Grand Marshal snorted. “An old paradox. An illusion of the mind, thinking such a way. Because obviously we can reach the table, or else we wouldn’t have made it this far.”

  “Which means every day we do the impossible,” Kalder said. “Simply standing up from a chair or going to take a bowel movement is a miracle because it shouldn’t be possible, but we do it anyway. We cross infinity with every step.” He sighed, his cloudy breath fogging the window. “An impossible number of things…done every moment…”

  A moment of silence passed between them.

  Then, in a beautifully silent flash, Tenth Fleet arrived.