by Scott Rhine
He radioed the bank on Filangis to send a short list of questions to his three finalists via ansible. How would they deal with a gay child? What would they write on Kesh’s tomb? What enterprise would they invest the most family money in? Their replies would form the basis for his final decision. He charged the expensive ansible transmission to the Ram’s account. If not for Reuben, he could have visited his heirs in person.
Kesh celebrated with a late snack. When he waddled into the quiet galley he realized Deep 6 had left Filangis Station without Reuben’s chosen nurse.
7. The Ghost System
The crew talked for days about how difficult the hop to Mnamnabo would be and held a final meeting to vote on the risk. Normally, a ship rode into a binary or trinary system on one star’s gravity lane and found passage out on another. At worst, a ship waited for stars to align for the best chance of success. However, Mnamnabo had destroyed one of its suns to prevent the Phib invasion. This presented unique challenges. Deep 6 had to aim for a giant planet in the system and ride out considerable subspace turbulence caused by the earlier destruction. Roz likened the ride to grabbing a brass ring while white-water rafting.
Echo said, “Union nav beacons warn against any attempt to enter the system for the next hundred years. Maybe we should listen.”
Reuben handed over a computer pad. “I mapped out the path of least resistance with the charts from my yacht.”
Daisy steadied him on his feet when he wobbled.
After examining the vector, Roz whistled. “That’s a pretty aggressive approach.”
“Relax. Rams do this all the time. We don’t want anyone analyzing how Xerxes submerged a star to develop that technology for themselves.”
“Like we did for the subbasement drive,” Max said wryly.
“I mean as a weapon,” Reuben clarified.
Ominously, Kesh said, “Any tool can be used as a weapon.”
“Then we’ll have to make sure no one outside Magi space sees this drive until we’ve made it safe,” said Roz.
He wanted to pat her on the head. Such innocence.
Echo frowned at the projections. “Doing this in a series of shorter hops would improve our odds of success dramatically. The route from the adjacent Corundos system is more predictable.”
Distracted, Rueben blurted, “Yeah, but then we’d run that Magi convoy we’ve been trying to avoid.” Every Magi starship at the Convocation left for home three months ago, the moment they heard about Roz’s invention. Her mathematical theories turned out to be a reinterpretation of their most sacred writings. Deep 6 itself was a glorified proof of the revised math.
The room went dead silent. A political gaffe is telling the truth in public.
“I can explain,” Max began.
Echo turned pale with anger. “On the way into this system, you consulted the nav beacons. By how much did we miss the Magi diplomatic caravan?”
Kesh could sense the wrath pouring off her like burning electrical insulation.
Max may have been a null, but good husbands had a feel for these sorts of things without the need for psychic enhancement. “A day. We chose the spiral of fuel conservation to ensure that would happen.”
“Why?”
“The caravan would expect us to accompany them. It’d slow us down too much! Plus—”
“We’ll intercept the caravan near the Corundos to confer.” The navigator rarely ruled autocratically. However, the force of her will was so strong Kesh had to resist the urge to bow.
“Yes, dear one.”
“We’ll provide them with a complete list of the amendments and discoveries presented at the meetings they missed. This is our obligation under the law. Once that has been resolved, Roz and I shall outline experiments to explore the subbasement. We’ll invite the other scientists to add their input.”
“For how long, beloved?” Max asked. “If we let them, the scientists will talk your ear off the whole way to Bright Frontier.”
“Until my anger at you subsides.”
“We won’t have to dock for more fuel,” Roz said. “We can orbit the jump point and continue our course the moment our conference is over.”
“Perhaps,” Echo grumbled.
Kesh begged off. His head ached from the emotional broadcast. When the other Magi found out about the deception, it would be like sticking his head in a beehive. “I don’t need to proclaim my manhood by enduring this harrowing ride.” Let them interpret that as fear of turbulence. “Wake me when we’re safely on the other side.” He walked to his room where his trusty freezer unit resided.
Max followed close behind. “I can give you antinausea meds.”
“The vodka produced by your still works better, but no, thank you,” Kesh responded. “I won’t be able to concentrate on my writing with the tempest you’ve stirred up.”
“Yeah. I wish I could climb in there beside you.” When Kesh was nestled snugly in his cryo-cocoon, Max asked over the speakers. “Any last words? Anything you want me to take care of while you’re unconscious?”
“Daisy seems to be forming an attachment to the Ram.”
“They’re both adults.”
“It could turn messy,” Kesh predicted.
“Ever had an exciting relationship that wasn’t?”
“Touché.”
He closed his eyes, and what seemed like a moment later, he opened them again. Max crouched in the same position in the same uniform. The only clues that Kesh had slept were his cold fingers and the numb spots on his forehead. “Did the speed improve?” he asked.
Max grunted. “For both jumps, we clocked a 6 percent increase in subbasement velocity, enough for Echo to allow hops of up to sixteen parsecs. Roz claims we might make it to Glory Point with a month to spare.” The doctor helped him out of the cocoon.
“That’d be a first.” Kesh stood and tipped sideways into the wall.
“Come on. Walk it off.”
Kesh shuffled feebly. “I’m too old for this. It might be my imagination, but I feel queasy.”
“Let’s get some warm food in you.” Max led him to the mess hall where Roz served a steaming bowl of stew. The doctor left to wake the next crewmember.
“Where are we?” Kesh asked her.
“Mnamnabo system,” she replied. “We emerged beside the biggest planet. The military outpost is on the outermost moon. The library orbits at a Lagrange point. Matching velocities and vectoring in will take a few hours. Past the security zone, I’ll have to fly the yacht.”
“How long did the conference last with the other Magi?”
“Three days. I talked for the first. The next two, they debated, torn between arresting us and giving us medals. Your commission from the Turtles tipped the scales. They’ve allowed us to continue the investigation into Xerxes’s crimes because we’ll beat the caravan to Bright Frontier with the evidence.” She glanced apologetically at the end of the table. Wiping her hands on her apron, she ducked back into the kitchen.
Reuben sat on the bench, staring into space and not touching his own bowl. Odd. Goats were always hungry.
Kesh fumbled his first attempt to pick up a soup spoon. His claw quivered. He covered by snapping at the Goat. “What’s wrong with you?”
“We’re alone on this side, apart from a skeleton crew manning the defensive array. This place used to be the center of my civilization. Now it’s a tomb.”
“The Library of Xerxes sounds like a pharaoh’s monument to himself. Do you think the crazy old politician built any traps into his final resting place to keep out robbers?”
“Count on it,” Reuben replied.
“Take me with you to help explore. I can heal from almost anything.”
“That’s … the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Reuben crumbled crackers into his stew and whispered, “When I tried to check the secondary backups in the Deep 6’s outer ring, I ran into an invisible wall.”
“The Magi don’t want lower lifeforms snooping.”
�
�Yeah. Still freaked me out.”
Kesh thought back to several odd-shaped gaps he’d noted in the infrared range. “They have invisible bots roaming the halls.”
“I get the weird feeling I died in that last ambush, and this is my punishment.”
“No. Punishment would be a horde of Blue Claws hunting you through the halls like they did the Mimics.”
Reuben winced. “Thanks. That’s a distinct possibility.”
Such a scene would be a glorious death. Honors would be added to Kesh’s tomb for every hunter he injured during the pursuit. He would plan surprises for the hallways in case this chase ever occurred. Kesh lifted the soup bowl to his lips and slurped. “Did something happen with Daisy?”
“The Llewellyn CEO personally ordered her not to touch me skin-to-skin.”
“Quells the romance a bit.” Kesh ate the soup until he tasted the first bit of cooked meat. Boot rubber had better flavor. Grimacing, he pushed the bowl away.
“Why are you so sour today?”
Kesh grabbed a slice of bread. “The whole idea of this mission offends me. The Union is supposed to be so advanced. How could so many beings participate in harming another sentient race?”
Reuben shrugged. “My guess is Xerxes compartmentalized the Glory Point preparations so most participants weren’t aware they were committing a crime.”
“What about the leaders?”
“Reluctance to harm comes with sensing another creature’s aura,” Reuben reasoned. “No one has ever felt a Banker’s. I’m not sure they have one. For years, we thought Tellers were the species behind the ansible. In the abstract, planning an attack against tentacled aliens who threaten you seems reasonable. I’ll need to read Xerxes’s plans to tell you more.”
“You know what I think? Xerxes expected the Bankers to be so cautious that seeing a warship in their system would trigger a bargain. They’d surrender untold fortunes rather than risk a single member of their species.”
“In special forces, they’d say, ‘A threat perceived is a threat achieved.’”
Kesh twitched his tail. “This was all a game of poker to him.”
“Yeah. When you’re accustomed to merging with the mass-mind, individual lives become insignificant. Xerxes had a serious god complex. That’s why I need you to do me a favor.” The young Goat male locked eyes with him in earnest. “Come with me to the library. If I start to behave like him, I want you to strand me there. Make up a story so Roz will leave.”
“You’re afraid the ghosts will vie for control?”
“Something like that. Promise me you’ll protect the Union from whatever I find buried there.”
“It would be my honor.”
8. The Palace of Versailles
Kesh prepared by preparing a pack of survival equipment, including a rope, food, and a heavy blaster. Who knew how long cracking the library would take. He even wore his spacesuit in case of traps. To analyze his opponent, he researched pharaohs and Xerxes in the Human databanks. Puzzled by what he uncovered, he wandered to the yacht a few minutes early. Max had loaded the craft with enough medical supplies and Navy surplus for a small-scale invasion. Kesh’s regeneration tank filled the yacht’s salon, underscoring the seriousness of the mission. He stared at the device but didn’t comment. Should he die during the mission, he had authorized the surviving partners in Far Traveler Unlimited to select his heir from among the remaining candidates.
The Humans both wore reinforced-fabric suits with ablative vests capable of absorbing small arms blasts. Max glanced at Kesh’s pack. “Great minds think alike. Reuben is more worried about the outfit he’s wearing. It’s like he’s actually meeting his ancestor.”
Kesh cocked his head in a questioning stance. “This Xerxes, I thought he was Egyptian.”
“Persian.”
“But the story about him was written in Greek.”
“Humans are a confusing bunch, aren’t we?” Max said with a smile. “In the cradle of our civilization, countries constantly warred. Each time someone developed new military technology, such as the chariot, they’d sweep through the region and become rulers for a short time. The exploits weren’t written down until a tribe called the Romans enforced global peace for a thousand years.”
Lights changed color as Roz went through preflight in the cockpit. She was too busy to participate in the discussion.
Kesh asked, “Did these Romans speak Greek?”
“No, Latin, which is the basis for the English and Spanish we use today. The tribe of Alexander the Great spread Greek throughout the world, so scholars already knew that language.”
“Alexander?”
“A great warrior who named every city he conquered Alexandria.”
“You’re pulling my tail.”
“Nope.”
“It’s a miracle you Humans didn’t kill each other off completely.”
“Yep,” Max said, clipping into a fold-down seat in the hall.
Kesh complained, “None of that prepares me for the mindset of Black Ram Xerxes.”
Reuben wandered out of his bedroom, dressed in traditional Goat mourning robes. “The name means ‘great one’. He chose the name because, in the story, the king falls for a minority woman named Esther. His love saves her people from genocide and rebuilds their temple. My forefather agreed to assume the role of Black Ram to save the village of someone he loved.”
“Did he succeed?” asked Kesh.
“Yes, but a year later, she died from contaminated water. Turns out the village was built on a heavy-metal deposit, the profits from which gave our people a chance at freedom from the Bankers. Xerxes became obsessed with saving our race in her name.”
“He didn’t.”
“No. He couldn’t overcome his people’s need for short-term gratification. Most of the progress he made washed away like a sandcastle. Later in life, he grew sullen and turned to drugs to ease the pain. The Bankers provided him with a bad batch and made sure the emergency crew didn’t arrive in time. Ironically, Xerxes was the one who established ambulance services in our realm.”
Kesh blinked. “I wasn’t aware the enmity went that deep.”
“It wasn’t personal,” Max explained. “Xerxes was impeding Banker profits and encouraging others to do the same.”
The magnetic clamps thumped as they retracted into the yacht’s hull. “Strap down!” shouted Roz as she flipped switches. “We dust off in one minute.”
With the base eight of the Union, standard minutes were sixty-four seconds, but English was adaptable. Kesh waddled to the cockpit to find a crash chair that fit his tail.
Radio chatter continued between Roz and the military base. “Sunset Garrison to Ram One. Cleared for library approach. May the servant of the people be blessed.”
She replied reflexively with the traditional, “He sacrifices all for his people.” To her passengers, she announced, “The defensive shields can only be deactivated in a single region that rotates. We have to follow the window of safety into the docks. Expect three-g turns even with the compensators.”
Her eyes flicked between several sets of screens as her fingers danced. “Separation in three, two, one.”
As the Icarus engines vibrated, pressure squeezed the air out of Kesh’s lungs. The acceleration reminded him he’d neglected to empty his bladder. Turning his head, Kesh checked on the others. The pilot was a machine, pushing the tolerances of the expensive yacht. Max had his eyes shut in a gesture of complete trust in his mate and boredom with missions in general. Reuben sat next to his mentor looking pale.
Out the front window, Kesh watched the amazing monument approach. Every square meter of the asteroid had been covered with solar fabric or crystal. The curved spires resembled a virus or a child’s jacks—if that child were a billionaire who played with priceless art. “The longest tower appears to be a transmitter.”
Grateful for the distraction, Reuben replied, “Yeah. That’s how the destruct sequence was transmitted to the subbasement devices o
rbiting the other sun. At least three of the other spikes contain transmitters.”
Uneasy, Kesh asked, “What do they trigger?”
“We’re not sure—another reason we abandoned the system. The working theory is that when the time is right, the gas giant beneath us will erupt to replace the second sun.”
Once again, Kesh regretted not visiting the bathroom. “You’re joking.”
Roz smiled at the exchange. “Why do you think we call it Sunset Garrison?”
“It won’t go off while we here, will it?”
“Probably not,” Reuben guessed. “The big weapons always have safety mechanisms. On the eve of invasion, the Xerxes device had to be triggered by reigning Black Ram.”
“What was his name?” Kesh asked.
“Nobody knows. That’s how the office usually works. A Black Ram’s name is digitally purged from the public archival system. Only living memory retains any record. I remember Diogenes, two Rams ago, because he was my father and broke the rules to meet me. Besides, to activate the doomsday device, the transmitter incinerated the Ram who gave the order.”
“So to stop this invasion, you might need to …” The funeral clothing made more sense in this context.
“Yeah.”
Roz frowned, adjusting for a bad relay with one hand as she banked with another. “Busy. Don’t distract me. Talk later.”
A period of tense silence followed. After a brief curse, she executed an impromptu tumble roll and skidded onto a pad outside the bunker-style entrance. The cabin equipment ticked with heat dissipation, causing the mammals to sweat.
Kesh unbuckled. “A memorable landing, Enlightened One.”
“Bite me.”
“Keep the engines warm,” Max ordered from over his shoulder. In his bulky suit, he didn’t move as stealthily as he usually did, but he still exuded a fraction of the noise a normal person might.
“But—”
“You’re a species treasure. Behave accordingly,” her husband admonished.
She switched to body cameras on the overhead monitors. “Kesh, keep Reuben in sight at all times. I’ll warn you if anything comes up from behind.”
