Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights

by Lawrence White

  "Not so new here. Your people have earned the title."

  Borg nodded thoughtfully. "Interesting.” He paused, then added, “You might be a head of state, but there are certain formalities I must follow for the safety of the ship."

  She studied him in return. Yes, he was talking about the safety of the great Knights for whom he took responsibility. Although such procedures might be different in her own domain, it was not difficult to imagine the requirements he would need to fulfill aboard this ship. She nodded and reached slowly for her blaster with two fingers. She pulled it free of its holster and handed it to Washburn, her steady gaze never leaving Borg’s.

  She lifted her arms and held them out to her sides in invitation. Borg just motioned for her to step forward a few steps. Without knowing it, she passed through sensors that looked for a lot more than just weapons. He glanced at a pad on the wall, then turned glaring eyes to Galborae.

  "You could have warned her about me."

  "I wish I had. In truth, she’s spent a lot of time aboard the transporter. Since coming out of the tank she has met individuals of many different species." He turned to Atiana. "My apologies, Your Majesty."

  "She was in a tank?" Borg queried.

  She answered for herself. "I'm a queen at war, gentlemen. I lead from the front, and I know the feel of a gleason’s claws. You will not see me in fine clothes again until the gleasons are gone.”

  Borg stepped back and bowed. "Your words bring to mind another. I assume you mean dead, not gone."

  "No. I say what I mean."

  Borg and Washburn both turned questioning looks on Galborae. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "I'll settle for dead.”

  Borg's gaze shifted back and forth between Galborae and Atiana. “Clearly, there's more to your story." He studied Atiana's blaster, a weapon modified into a dual purpose stunner and blaster. "I've not seen one of these before."

  "Colonel Havlock had them modified aboard the transporter. They're in limited supply until his main fleet gets here."

  "Hmm. I’d like to meet him."

  "Not for a day or two," Atiana replied. "He's up to his eyebrows in gleasons at the moment."

  Borg's leer returned. "He'll respond to a summons from a Knight."

  Atiana stared hard into his eyes. "He will. Let me ask you this: is your Knight's purpose here to help or to hinder?"

  The leer disappeared from Borg's face, though Washburn's bright white teeth flashed in a brief smile of his own. This woman was definitely growing on him.

  She was apparently growing on Borg as well. He nodded to Washburn. "Return her weapon to her." He turned and led the way deeper into the ship.

  As they stepped out onto the executive level, Atiana gasped at the elegant tapestries and artwork adorning the walls and ceiling.

  “You live in splendor," she said.

  Borg stopped and turned back to her. "Actually this ship belongs to our Queen. We're only borrowing it. That said, our Queen and her Knights all lead from the front just as you do. Without Lady Krys, your world would be dealing with the gleasons without our help, and there would be many more of them. It is she who discovered their presence here, and when we arrived we successfully destroyed a number of ships attempting to deliver more."

  “You misinterpret my meaning, sir. I meant the comment as a complement. I hope the day comes when we can return the arts to their natural place on my world as well."

  Borg cocked his head and stared at her, then abruptly turned and resumed his lead. When they reached a particular door, he spoke a command and the door to Krys' quarters opened.

  Inside, Lady Krys stood beside Sir Tarn, and several Terran Protectors stood idly around the room, though they were, in fact, stationed strategically. Stven had been in the room with them, but he knew the presence of a dragon would only add to Queen Atiana’s uneasiness. He had returned to the bridge to monitor the meeting from there.

  Galborae entered the room and immediately went to one knee. Atiana followed his example.

  "Are you kneeling?" Krys demanded.

  "Yes, My Lady," Galborae answered.

  “Stand, both of you,” Krys ordered. “Anyone who fights gleasons need never bow before me." While they stood, she extended a hand toward Galborae’s voice. "Welcome back, my friend.

  Galborae took her hand, then Tarn's hand. "You remained true to your promise, My Lady, Sire. Thank you."

  "Will you introduce us?" Krys asked.

  Galborae reached for his queen's hand and brought her forward. "Lady Krys, Sir Tarn, please meet Queen Atiana."

  Tarn bowed and Krys reached a hand out. Atiana took that hand and brought it to her own face. Krys studied the woman standing before her through the light touch of her fingers, fingers that had grown more sensitive since her blinding.

  While she felt, she said, "We hold Sir Galborae in high regard, Your Majesty. I tasked him with responsibilities far beyond anything life on your world prepared him for."

  Atiana remained silent as she studied this tall, slim, dark-haired Great One of the Empire. She could not even imagine the responsibilities this blind woman, a woman of her own apparent age, dealt with on a day-to-day basis.

  When Krys lowered her hands, her inspection complete, Atiana said, ”My Lady, Sir Galborae delivers on his promises to you every single day. He is Colonel Havlock’s right-hand man. Let me thank you in the name of my people for what you’ve done for us. Your sending Colonel Havlock has been a great blessing to us in our fight against the gleasons."

  Krys tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. “You say 'my people.' To whom do you refer?"

  "To the people of Tranxte, of course."

  "You speak for everyone? I didn't think your world was united under one banner."

  Atiana took a step backward, suddenly embarrassed before this great woman. "My apologies, My Lady. You're right: I rule over only a tiny piece of my world. Colonel Havlock never stops looking at what he calls the big picture, and I guess I've unconsciously begun doing the same."

  A knowing smile lit Krys' face. “I know the feeling. I, too, spoke in another's name before my position became official. I hope your people come to appreciate you for who you are. I think we're going to get along well." She raised a hand out to her side, welcoming them to join her in a nearby sitting area. “I keep hearing the name Colonel Havlock. I get the feeling I should have invited him as well."

  Tarn led Krys to the couch, then motioned for Atiana to join her there.

  "My Lady, our problems must seem small compared to those you deal with on a daily basis."

  "Has Colonel Havlock or Sir Galborae explained the troubles within our Empire?"

  “I know you’re in the midst of a rebellion.”

  Krys nodded. “We're close to cleaning up the last of it. My Queen is restored to her throne, though it has come at great cost, and the war is not yet over. Our immediate focus has shifted to defeating an enemy somewhat akin to the gleasons here. That enemy comes from far away and wields a terrible weapon, a weapon of the mind that incapacitates everyone. Just as you were essentially powerless against the gleasons, my Empire was, and still is, powerless against these Chessori. Out of the whole galaxy, only the people from one small, seemingly unimportant emerging world have the ability to fight them. They have allied with us. We’re supporting them in every way we can, but they have to do all the fighting.”

  Atiana stared at the ceiling for a time before replying, her eyes going from side to side as she reviewed the fighting on Tranxte since the arrival of the off-worlders. "So that's where he got the idea.”

  "What idea?" Krys asked.

  “His resources are quite limited. He’s expanding them by enlisting and training my people to fight the gleasons with Empire weapons and equipment."

  Krys smile sadly. "Probably not. He's a soldier, not a general. We keep this emerging world’s existence as secret as we can. I doubt if he’s ever heard of it, and I would be very surprised if he knew our strategies.”

&
nbsp; Atiana stood up and turned toward Krys with her eyes narrowed. Borg tensed but did not change his position in the room. “You think him just a soldier? You're wrong, My Lady, so, so wrong. The Sky Lord is a man with a great vision worthy of your Empire. I don't support his vision entirely, but I support him."

  Krys frowned. “You speak of visions. What visions?"

  "His vision for my world and his vision for the gleasons."

  "And those are?"

  "He has all of us focused on killing gleasons, but in his heart he searches for a way to keep from killing them.”

  Krys sank back into the couch thinking deeply. When she straightened up again, she asked, "How can you possibly not want to kill gleasons? Every one of us has personally fought them. I think I speak for all of us when I say our only hope was to kill them before they killed us."

  "My own sentiment exactly, My Lady. The Sky Lord and Sir Galborae stood out in an open field before a gleason and actually spoke with it. Did you know?"

  Borg's response to her words startled her so much that her blaster jumped into her hand. What started as a roar turned into a loud, continuing snarl as the Great Cat paced the room, throwing his head from side to side.

  Blasters in the hands of Protectors, followed shortly after by Tarn, appeared as if by magic, all of them pointed at Atiana.

  Washburn was the only exception. He stared at Borg in disbelief, having never before seen a Protector place his protection duties second to anything. He called softly but urgently to Atiana, "Your Majesty!" He stepped to her side and placed himself between her and Krys, then reached out a hand to her weapon, gently pushing it down.

  Atiana lifted alarm-filled eyes to the huge, black-skinned man, then around the room at the other blasters pointed at her. With another glance at the Great Cat, she released the weapon into Washburn’s grasp. Blasters in the hands of Protectors slid back into holsters.

  Washburn leaned into her and said privately, “You’ve been living with gleasons for too long. Your nerves are on a knife edge. Let me assure you that you are entirely safe here.” He looked toward Borg. “You need never fear him, Your Majesty. Or me for that matter. Our job is to protect you, not to hurt you. Your words touched on ancient hatreds."

  "I guess they did," she replied, her eyes not leaving the agitated cat.

  When Borg realized the scene he was making, he stopped. He shook his head one final time, then padded up to Krys and Atiana. "My apologies, Ladies, and you, Sire,” he said turning to Tarn. He then padded over to Galborae and sat on his haunches before him, every molecule of his being demanding answers. "You talked to a gleason?"

  "Well, the Sky Lord did most of the talking. When it was over we both woke up in sick bay, me in the tank again."

  "Tell me about it."

  Galborae told the tale in its entirety, beginning with Havlock's failed attempts to talk with gleasons in captivity and ending with Galborae decapitating the creature that nearly killed both of them.

  When the telling was done, Borg lowered his head to Galborae, his way of honoring him. "I would meet this Sky Lord."

  "So would I,” Tarn said. He raised his voice slightly so the ship’s AI would hear him. “George, will you let him know?”

  “I believe he's indisposed at the moment, Tarn.”

  “So we hear. Make it at his convenience—it sounds like his work is more important than our own at the moment. We can delay a day or two.” He stepped over to Krys and knelt down before her, taking her hands in his own. "My Lady?"

  “We can stay, Tarn. Nothing else is imminent, and I confess I'm intrigued by what I'm hearing here." Her blind gaze returned to Atiana. "Is there anyone else we should invite?"

  "There is, My Lady. The Teacher, the Healer, and Milae, Sir Galborae's wife."

  "George, please see to it," she said. She turned back to Atiana. “A Teacher and a Healer? Who are they?"

  "Imperial Marines who have shown an aptitude for dealing with my people. At the moment they're key to Colonel Havlock’s method of introducing the Empire to very frightened people, but I believe he plans a bigger role for them in the future."

  "Oh? He has a vision for the future?"

  “He does, but the details are not yet clear to him. Dealing with the gleasons will take years. When we’re done, Tranxte will be a world in turmoil. Colonel Havlock is seeking a way to bring us through that turmoil, ultimately to a future of our own determining. He believes there’s a measurable probability we’ll self-destruct in the process.”

  Sir Galborae spoke up. "My Lady, Sire, it's very bad down there. People, those who have survived, have fled their fields and villages and moved into our castle strongholds for protection. Food is scarce, disease is spreading with the overcrowding, and we've barely scratched the surface of the gleason problem. Queen Atiana rules five kingdoms. Within her province we have essentially eliminated the gleasons, but what’s five kingdoms compared to the whole world? We’ve done this with a small, advance force of marines. We expect the rest of them to come in half a year or so, but even then it will be an overwhelming job. Planets are big. I'm still learning how big, but I know enough to know that General Stymes’ men won't be enough. There might never be enough. The gleasons are probably breeding as fast as we kill them.”

  "You're telling me it's an impossible task?"

  His lips compressed into a thin line, though she could not see him. “To me it is, but don’t forget—after all is said and done, I still don't know what a thousand means, let alone the meaning of a light-year. The Sky Lord disagrees with me.”

  Krys lifted her head toward Atiana who was still standing. Atiana knew what the Knight sought, but she was troubled. She stepped away from the couch to lean against a table, then turned and said, “It’s not really my place to speak for him, My Lady.”

  “Probably not,” Krys said, nodding in agreement, “but you will. We both know you won’t pass up an opportunity to serve Tranxte.”

  Atiana bit her lip. Half sitting and half leaning against the table, she opened her arms wide and said, ”Isn't it obvious? To you of all people?"

  Krys started to answer, then stopped as another thought struck her. "Please tell me you're not leaning against the table, my dear?"

  Atiana straightened up instantly. "I'm sorry, My Lady. I was."

  A sweet grin found its way to Krys' face. "I thought you might be. In some ways you remind me of another. You may now lean back against the table and instruct me. Explain to me, if you can, why it might not be an impossible task to clear your world of gleasons."

  Atiana knew she would never again lean against this particular table, but she complied with the Knight's request to speak. “It so happens that I think Galborae is right—considering the size of Tranxte, it seems an impossible task. Gar does not agree. He believes, instead, that his superiors were short-sighted when they defined his task.”

  She looked around the room, making eye contact with each person. “In his words, your Empire has brought together many species. Each of them has its own beliefs, beliefs which often contradict others’ beliefs within this vast Empire of yours, probably even within this amazing room within this amazing sky ship.”

  She stepped closer to Krys. “My Lady, Gar tells me that the most fundamental purpose of your Empire is to ensure this continued freedom of choice between alien societies.”

  She took a deep breath, not at all in agreement with Havlock’s notion herself. “Your Empire knows gleasons have a simple language. After fighting them and speaking with them, Gar believes they have more intelligence than you credited them with. Actually, a lot more. In his mind that qualifies them as a sentient, alien race. He believes they have the right to be different, even though their beliefs not only contradict the norm, they contradict everyone. He believes your Empire needs to extend the same freedom of choice to them that you have extended to others. He's looking for a way to provide those rights to the gleasons without the rest of us getting killed in the process."

  Silence fi
lled the room for a time, a long time. Even Borg looked thoughtful. The silence lasted long enough that Atiana finally asked, "My Lady?"

  Krys lifted her face toward this woman who called herself a queen, this woman who by Empire standards was uneducated, illiterate, and from a backward world. “Do you agree with him?”

  “The words I’ve spoken are Gar's words, My Lady, not my own. I am not in agreement with him. What the gleasons have done to my world can never be forgiven.”

  "And this Gar person, would he be a certain Colonel Havlock, your Sky Lord?"

  Atiana blushed. "Sorry, My Lady. Yes."

  "In fairness, my Queen and her First Knight struggle with a similar issue. We call our enemies the Chessori. They are so ruthless that we see only one means of defeating them. It includes genocide. For most of us that is acceptable, but my Queen seeks other ends. Tell me," she asked so softly that everyone leaned toward her to hear, "has this Gar of yours found a solution?"

  Atiana turned toward Galborae with a question.

  He said, ”Your Majesty, this is a side of him I've never seen. I have no idea."

  A sense of wonder filled her. Had some of her conversations with Gar really stayed just between the two of them? Had he trusted her so much? Her thoughts stayed internal long enough that Krys cleared her throat.

  Atiana blinked as she reviewed the question at hand. "He has not found a solution,” she said thoughtfully, “but he knows the direction of his search."

  “He does?” Krys asked in amazement, rising to her feet to face Atiana. “And that is?"

  "He believes the answer lies in finding a place that needs the gleasons.”

  Silence prevailed again. As before, it held for a long time as every person in the room tried to adjust to a new reality. Eventually, Borg broke the silence. "There's such a place?"

  “He doesn’t know. I personally can't imagine such a place. At present he doesn't have the means to search."

  "And if he had the means to search, and if his search found such a place? What then?” Krys demanded.

  "My Lady," Atiana replied with unabashed pride, “Gar is not afraid to call upon all the resources of your great Empire." In a softer voice, she asked, "Would you be inclined to support that request?"