Tale of the Spinward March: The Great Khan (Tales of the Spinward March Book 1)

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Tale of the Spinward March: The Great Khan (Tales of the Spinward March Book 1) Page 13

by David Winnie


  Xaid stood, “I assume you gentlemen want me to start right away,” he said. “Once I have formed my team, I will contact you about your money in this game.” With a low, sweeping bow, he indicated each member of the panel. “Success, my friends.” He whirled and left.

  It wasn’t until he was back aboard his own ship that he realized Tenzing had never said a word.

  Three months later, a small block of investors representing a pension fund for the Occident city of Des Moines divested itself of Shurkorov stocks. The price was a shocking three centicredits below the market price. The stocks were purchased immediately.

  A week later, the University of Birmingham in England sold a considerable lump of their Shurkorov holdings. This time, the price was a stunning fifteen centicredits below the last quoted price. While the stocks sold quickly, a number of other investors grew nervous and relieved themselves of a portion of their holdings, all below market value.

  Financial news programs mentioned the sudden small devaluation of the stock in passing. The move was small, hardly worth mentioning. Still, two devalued sales in seven days was curious.

  On Friday of the following week came a hammer blow. The primary Bank of Tantalus released all of their Shurkorov stock for sale at the unheard-of price of one credit fifty below market price. While the Bank only held three percent of the publicly held stock, it sent a shudder throughout the entire banking industry. Complicating matters, the Bank of Tantalus offered the sale late on Terra’s Friday, with the markets closed over the recognized week-end. Much of the stock had been purchased at the extraordinary price before the market closed.

  Investors and brokers waited nervously over the weekend. Rumors abounded. The Shurkorovs were devaluing their own stock to lower the price for a general repurchase of the public shares. The Securities Exchange Commission was preparing charges against the Shurkorovs. Alien influences were attacking the Shurkorov interests in preparation for an economic war against Terra, to be followed by invasion. Each rumor was substantiated by enough fact to appear real.

  When the market opened Monday, the Shurkorov stock plummeted. The family had enough cash to purchase a significant amount of the public offering. Still, at the end of the week, it was nearly twenty percent below its value only a month prior.

  The marketed quieted for two months. Shurkorov stock began to recover its lost value.

  Then it happened again. The city of Johannesburg in Afrique-Sud sold its stock in Shurkorov, citing poor market performance and return. They devalued the stock by half a credit a share. The results staggered the market. Across the global whole of the markets, prices plunged. Many brokers panicked, dumping Shurkorov stocks at prices unimaginable just a year previously.

  Clementina Shurkorov, the eldest of the clan, personally appealed to Tenzing, Leader of the Terran Union, for relief. The Council acted quickly, purchasing space docks and laboratories from the devastated company. The cash infusion slowed, then stopped the plunge in the market.

  For a week. Akash Industiech, a heavy investor in the Shurkorov, demanded the Shurkorovs purchase the stock Akash held. The family was out of cash and there was no way they could maintain their holdings. Again, Clementina Shurkorov appealed to Tenzing.

  In the end, not even the Terran government could stop the collapse. Clementina Shurkorov signed the last of her family’s holdings over to the Terran Council, personally handing the documents to Angkor Khan in Zurich. She and the rest of her family boarded the last remaining Shurkorov yacht and were transported via Space Fold rail to the Rim.

  It was believed they would never heard from again.

  Chapter 16

  January 3053 A.D.

  The large ground car pulled as close as possible to the bulbous Hecht vessel that landed on the tarmac at the fringe of Ulaan Baatar airport. It parked in that manner out of concern for security, yes, but mostly because the Hecht abhorred the cold. Winter on the high plateau was unpleasant for most life forms. For the lizard-like Hecht, it was intolerable.

  The Hecht visitor was briefly exposed to the biting cold. Grrrscnk hissed her displeasure as she moved from the warm airlock, across the carpet the monkeys laid on the ground between the vessels. A thoughtful gesture, she thought. Uncommon for monkeys. The ground car wasn’t fancy, but it had a powerful heater.

  The trip to the government house was short and treacherous. The ground car was heavy, traveling on paving stones that had a thick glaze of ice. It jerked and slid on the slippery surface. Grrrscnk scrambled in the back as she was tossed from side to side. Her crest flared in fear and irritation; she hissed and croaked irascibly. An inflated chamber had been erected at the entrance to government house. The ground car entered and the chamber was sealed. Grrrscnk’s annoyance eased as she crossed the balmy tunnel into the building, walking again on the red cloth the Terrans had laid down for her. Curious. Angkor waited in the foyer. They hadn’t seen each other in twenty-five years.

  The fur on his head was longer than she remembered. He had fattened up, thicker in the chest and belly. His face was lined, speaking of responsibilities. She wondered idly at the taste of the older Terran.

  “Grrrscnk,” he said, bowing.

  “Friend Angkor, it has been so long.” She lowered her head, they rubbed cheeks.

  “Shall we?” He extended his hand, they walked together to his office, chatting.

  “How is your…mate? Friend Sophia?” she asked.

  “She and our son are well,” he reported. “They are in Seattle, visiting our surrogate and her partner. Buru started school two years ago. The temple reports he is studying hard and his grades are acceptable. Kassidy is close to delivering, hers and her wife’s child. Sophia wants to be there to help.”

  Grrrscnk shook her head. “You monkeys are so odd,” she stated. “You are bi-gender, but you allow this…this…” she waved her arms in frustration. “I cannot find the words. We do not have such a thing amongst the Hecht.”

  “And yet, it works for us. And there are other species who have three or more genders,” Angkor argued. Grrrscnk shook her head.

  “And you,” he queried. “How are your children and your mate?”

  “My children are well. My eldest daughter is preparing to enter secondary school,” she answered. “My mate is an adequate hunter. He is minding our nest while I am here.”

  In his office, Angkor had already arranged cushions for Grrrscnk to settle while he sat on the couch. There was a teapot on the low table between them and a covered bowl. He lifted the lid, saying, “I had this lamb freshly slaughtered for you this morning. You enjoy lamb, as I recall.”

  She dipped a claw into the bowl, extracted a dripping cube of the savory meat and into her razor-toothed maw it disappeared. She chewed noisily and swallowed the tidbit. “Yes, I remember,” Grrrscnk purred. “Delicious. And an excellent metaphor to today’s meeting.”

  “Oh?”

  She selected another morsel, ate it and stated, “I am pleased you agreed to see me today. With your father’s law regarding alien presence on this world, I was not certain you could agree to this meeting.”

  “There are always ways around laws…Technicalities, you could say.”

  She pondered, then nodded. “Ah, the cloths on the ground. Not protection from the cold or honorific,” she said.

  Angkor smiled. “Exactly. Technically, one could say you haven’t actually touched the planet, therefore you are not on the planet.”

  “A niggly detail,” and her jaw snapped in amusement.

  “But an effective one. So, tell me why you have asked for this meeting?” Angkor inquired.

  “As you are aware, there was never a formal treaty after your war with the Solarians,” Grrrscnk stated. “You defeated them and as a result, they were expelled from the Galactic Council. There were more pressing issues for the Council to deal with following their expulsion; the issue of your world was tabled.

  “I have been serving my government for ten years on the Galactic Council. I am a m
ember of the Committee of Assets, studying and determining the disposition of worlds rich in resources. After many years, Earth…”

  “Terra,” Angkor interrupted, “We have gone back to the ancient title of Terra.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter,” Grrrscnk stated, waving an arm dismissively. “The topic of this world was considered by the committee. I was called to testify on your behalf. I didn’t lie, Angkor, I spoke truthfully to the committee about my experiences here.

  “All facts were taken into consideration. We voted and it was unanimously decided.

  You are a violent, destructive race. You prey upon yourselves and the species around you. You are capable of the most horrific acts upon sentient and non-sentient life forms the committee has ever been forced to witness. Even the Bougartd were sickened by the cruelty your species exhibits.

  ‘Since there has never been a treaty between our governments, the need to declare war is not necessary. Your case will be presented before the whole of the Council in a month’s time. We have already recommended an executor for your world. She has selected the race that will secure your planet and the bonds for the resources of this planet.”

  “By ‘she,’ am I to assume I know who this executor is?”

  Grrrscnk selected another tidbit. “I will assume that position after the Council agrees. As I have spent the most time on your world, I am the most suitable for the task.” She said. The meat disappeared into her mouth.

  “And this is supposed to please me?” Angkor growled.

  “Friend Angkor, it doesn’t matter whether you are pleased or not,” Grrrscnk said. “The decision has been made. Your people are who they are. It is sad, but you have been found unfit for civilized society. If we don’t take this action now, the probability of war with your species is certain.”

  “So as long as we were good little monkeys and stayed in our tree, your kind had no issues with us,” Angkor shouted. “But now, since our curiosity has liberated us from our planet and we have begun to explore the stars, you have arbitrarily decided to eliminate us!”

  “Eliminate?” said the surprised Hecht. “No, no, no, Angkor, you misunderstand. You race isn’t to be driven to extinction. What do you think we are, barbarians? The governance of your world is to be taken away, yes, and the other worlds you have squatted upon will be taken back for the committee to decide.

  “You are a young race, immature. For all your high ideals, it is impossible for you to be anything more than what we have observed. So, you will be cared for. It is a poor shepherd that allows harm to come to her flock. After this planet is secured, the races I have sold your resources to will establish the mines and farms. We will need workers, of course; your species will serve as these workers. The Hecht has a great deal of experience in this process. You and your kind will live in the blissful happiness of being cared for and supplied good, honest hard work and all its benefits.”

  “You mean slavery.”

  “I mean you are beasts who will be bent to conform to our will. On a personal level, I have already slated you and your family to come under my personal supervision.” She leaned closely. “I had a portion of human once when I was a child. A street person, a vagabond who strayed into our encampment outside Delhi. He was delicious. I have spent years wondering what you taste like, friend Angkor. You will comply or I will feast on your wife and child first before I consume you.”

  “We will defy you,” Angkor vowed. “Even at the cost of my family.”

  “Of course you will,” Grrrscnk cooed. “That is to be expected. And in the end, we will be victorious and I will eat your suckling child at my victory feast.”

  “So you will be leading the assault yourself?”

  “Oh, no,” she condescended. “There is no need to risk valuable Hecht lives on this trivial matter. We have contracted the Vinithri to secure this planet. They live in colonies underground anyway, so they are natural miners. In exchange for your mineral rights, they have agreed to perform the invasion. Should you choose to resist.”

  “In a month?” asked Angkor. “We can expect the invasion to start then?”

  “Well, no, these things take time,” Grrrscnk explained. “If you had only studied contract law on our level, Angkor, you would understand there are procedures that must be followed, strict guideline to be observed. I believe the contracts will be signed and the permits issued in a year, if all goes well.”

  She stood and gathered the bowl of lamb. “I may keep this, yes?” Angkor nodded.

  When Grrrscnk reached the door, he stopped her. “So you understand, there will be war,” he told her. “We will not lie down and willingly allow you to do this. We will resist and we will prevail. And should it take ten thousand years, we will exact our vengeance for every Terran you kill.”

  “Yes. Yes, I’m sure you will, little monkey,” she replied and was gone.

  After his guard informed him Grrrscnk’s ship had left, he placed a call to his father. “She confirmed what Ryder reported,” he recounted to Tenzing. “We have as much as a year.”

  “That will not be enough time,” Tenzing answered sadly. “Nevertheless, we must try. I am assembling the War Council tomorrow in my Keep. Be there.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  Chapter 17

  The War Council of the Terran Union was solemn as Angkor finished his report.

  The dozen officers from the Army and the nascent Fleet looked about at each other. Invasion, the very thing they had feared for the one hundred years, since their predecessors had driven off and defeated the Solarians. Now the nightmare was returning.

  Ryder Finn stood. Angkor was mildly surprised to see the blue-skinned alien, but glad to see his father’s oldest friend and dearest advisor.

  “Mithranderer feels the Hecht will support the Vinithri invasion more than what Angkor was told,” he reported. “The Vinithri are not a warrior race, nor is there a history of their species engaging in a great many battles. She feels the Hecht will bombard Terra before having the Vinithri soldiers and workers land on the planet.

  “The Vinithri are a hive insect race. They have a single queen who lays all the eggs. The only males are produced strictly to fertilize the eggs. When finished, they are put to death, as they have no role in Vinithri society. Ninety-five percent of the Vinithri are workers, four and a half percent are warriors and the remaining half percent are their leaders and scientists.

  When the queen dies, eight eggs are selected to receive the special nutrition needed to create a new queen, just as the rest of their society is fed the appropriate food for their chosen roles. Mithranderar has no record of there ever being more than one Queen. We are not sure what the significance of the remaining seven eggs are.” Ryder Finn sat.

  “State of our fleet?” Tenzing asked Admiral Schulenburg.

  “The Quarrel and the Boxer are on patrol along the Union border,” the admiral reported. “They will be recalled at once, of course. The Fisticuffs is on his shakedown cruise; he should be operational within the month. None of the rest of the destroyers will be anywhere near cruise capable within the next eighteen months.”

  “Can they stand up to a Hecht war cruiser?” asked one of the Generals.

  “They will fight valiantly,” promised Schulenburg, “but in the end, we simply don’t have the assets to face a Hecht fleet. My apologies.”

  General Zoltan was resplendent in his green Army uniform, gold braid at his shoulders, the collars bearing the ring of five stars. His dark hair was slicked back, his pencil moustache perfectly centered and squared beneath his proud nose. Dark eyes flashed as he reported, “We are recalling every fighter from the Union, since they intend to attack Terra first. Every native-born soldier we have will be emplaced by the year’s deadline. I have already drawn up a list of strategic locations we cannot allow to fall. At the conclusion of today’s meeting, we will start a training program for any Terran citizen who wishes to join their local militia.”

  Tenzing stood and motioned
General Zoltan to sit. “My friends,” he said, “the time has come for us to face facts and make hard decisions. We are outgunned and the Galactic Council holds the high ground. Not even the honor and fearlessness of our greatest warriors can save us. But in our own hopelessness, we have the spark needed to prevail. While they may kill millions of us, we will kill billions of them. Let the screams of their dead fill the ears across empty space to their mighty Council. Let our world’s resources be forever stained by the blood of their warriors we kill. I, for one, vow to kill one hundred before I succumb.”

  They all stood and cheered, save for Angkor. Silent, he left the Keep.

  He wandered outside and down a path. In the summer months, the village of his mother’s people would camp here, their cattle grazing on the steppe. He continued past the frozen campground to the river.

  It was nearly frozen over. Only a narrow channel in the swiftest part of the river flowed, edged with shiny, lacy ice. Closer to the beach, thick white frost covered the river and the beach. It was near here, so many years ago, he and Sui had made tiny boats of sticks and leaves, racing them down the river by pushing them with sticks. He smiled, recalling the warm, sunny day, falling in the mud and laughing, throwing clumps of muddy grass at his brother.

  Angkor kicked at some rocks frozen to the river bank. A few skittered loose and he gathered them thoughtlessly. He couldn’t skip the rocks as he and Sui had done as boys: the ice would make it too easy. He recalled a trick Sui had shown him. Rather than throw across the river and make the rock skip, his brother threw it high in the air, so the rock came down nearly vertical. Rather than make a big splash when it hit, the rock striking the water would make an odd phhudt noise. That was the trick, to make the odd noise.

  Angkor heaved one rock high in the air. His aim was true; it landed in the middle of the free-flowing water with the desired phhudt. He was pleased to see his aim was so true. With the next rock, his aim was slightly off. Instead of hitting the water, it punctured the thin ice a few feet from the water’s edge with a less than satisfactory craunch. He huffed; his aim was better than that. Prepared to execute a third and perfect throw, a thought struck him. He looked at the stone still in his hand and his eyes grew wide.

 

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