by David Winnie
“You bought tea from a poor tea girl,” Sophia brushed an errant hair from his forehead. “And as bad as it was, you drank it, anyway. You treated a poor girl well and won her heart. How could I not do this little thing, after all you have done for me?”
She patted his shoulder. “Now, enough of wallowing in your pity,” she ordered. “It is late and I am tired. Come, it is time for bed.
Chapter 25
March 3065 A.D.
“Your majesty, may I present Doctors Elian and Rolph Lumburg, Terran leaders of the Angkor/Vinithri Project?” The Emperor acknowledged the couple’s bow and extended his hand.
“I am pleased to meet you both, Doctors.” Angkor’s voice was firm as his handshake. “And, please, since I am back in a lab today, would you please call me Doctor Angkor? It has been too long since I’ve heard my preferred professional name.”
Elian blushed as Rolph laughed. “Of course, Doctor Angkor,” he gushed. “I took the liberty of reviewing many of your papers from your time on Ganymede. Fascinating stuff! Tell me, when you were examining the protein strings of the aminos extracted from Jupiter…” He winced as Elian’s sharp elbow jabbed his ribs. “OW! Right, sorry, Doctor Angkor,” apologized Rolph. “My wife reminds me we have a tour for you. If you would, Sir?” He extended an arm.
“I should like to introduce our lead Vinithri colleague, Third Scientist Daughter,” Elian stated. The Vinithri stood straight on her lower four legs, bowing her head exposing her nerve ganglion.
“Greetings, Majesty,” came her delicate pheromones. “I am honored to meet our sponsor, finally.”
Angkor bowed as well. “The honor is mine,” he replied. “As I am responsible for the near extinction of your people, I am humbled and honored to meet the savior of our new friends, the Vinithri.”
Three straightened her neck. “First Daughter said Mother would not approve of grief for her loss, nor would she allow any thoughts of anger or revenge amongst the upper castes. What has happened has happened. We are now friends and allies. So rules the First Daughter, who is the voice of the Mother.”
Angkor bowed his head. “The First Daughter is indeed wise. Please, show me this facility. I am eager to see your accomplishments!”
The party meandered through the laboratories beneath the Keep. The Vinithri workers had done their work well. The walls, floors and ceilings were the polished granite stone deep in the roots of the Khangai Mountains. Here and there, veins of minerals from the rich red oxides of iron to the vibrant blue-green of copper.
Channels had been cut in the walls and floor for power, water and any one of a hundred conduits needed to run a facility deep in the mountain. Small labels were affixed with Terran writing and Vinithri scent pads identifying each conduit and pipe. While designed to be a research facility and a school for the eventual heirs of the Empire, it reflected an artistic appearance, beautiful and functional without being austere.
“Be careful about letting my wife down here, Doctors,” joked Angkor. “The empress has an aesthetic for decorating. She’ll have these lovely walls painted and shrines everywhere if she finds her way down here.”
“Here is the nursery, high…Doctor Angkor.” Elian opened the chamber door with her passkey. “The cradles will support the Vinithri eggs that will have the heirs’ zygotes injected after the design for each is approved.”
Twenty-four clear tanks were supported by more of the smooth, granite stone. They were clustered in groups of three around a central column that reached from floor to ceiling. Various tubes ran between the tanks and the column, still others between the tanks in each cluster.
Each cluster demonstrated a cloudy fluid of its own color: red, yellow, blue, orange, green, violet, white and black. “Each cluster represents the file as designed by the committee s assigned to the particular file,” explained Three. “The embryonic fluid itself is naturally clear. Sister Doctor Teresa Anne Wallace-Smythe of the Sisters of the Holy Names Order and who runs this part of the facility, added the color to make identification easier and to add to the visual appeal of the project.”
“Does she always use a person’s full name and title?” whispered Angkor.
Rolph nodded, “Nearly ten years we’ve been working together. She and the Vinithri all do it. It’s a cultural habit.”
“As the embryos mature, we will monitor them closely. Any deviations shown in a cluster will be examined and discussed. Corrective measure will be taken. Should an embryo show extensive deviation and does not respond to adjustment, we will of course, discontinue the damaged nucleus,” explained Three. “By the time the heirs reach the point of gestation, we shall have eight healthy, superior Terran infants ready to be born, so to speak.”
“What will happen should more than one embryo from a cluster mature to the point of being born?” Angkor asked.
“That cannot be allowed to happen, Emperor Doctor Angkor Khan,” Three replied. “Only one child from each cluster can be allowed to be born.”
“So one child would be killed?” Angkor pressed.
“No,” relied Elian. “We have had much discussion on the point, Doctor Angkor. We will be constantly monitoring each heir through the process. With each alteration, each adjustment, we and the individual file director will rate the cluster and decide when it is time for continuation or discontinuation. It sounds harsh and it is. But we cannot take the chance that an inferior leaves this facility.”
“So to have eight healthy, perfect children, sixteen will be sacrificed.”
“It is the formula we use with our queen,” Three explained. “It is why we needed so much queen jelly. When our eight queens hatch, they engage in combat. Any unhatched queen is killed first; the others will destroy each other until only the finest, strongest survive. She will be inseminated and give birth to our next generation.”
“It seems cruel, Doctor Angkor,” Rolph explained, “but we on the File Board decided the Vinithri model would suit our Empire the best. While our children will not engage in mortal combat as the Vinithri do, the education and physical demands we place on them during their training will ensure they will be the finest specimens available in each generation.”
“Are they inseminated yet?” Angkor asked.
Elian shook her head. “No, Doctor. As my husband said, we have studied your bona fides. It would be our honor, Sir, if you would review the files the committee has decided on before we proceed.”
“Yes, yes, of course!” exclaimed Angkor. “It’s been so long since I looked through an electronic sequencer! When can we start?”
“We have one more stop before we go to the sequencing lab,” Three said. “The queen should like to meet you before she departs for Falleron.”
“You mean queens, don’t you,” Angkor asked.
“No, Emperor Doctor Angkor Khan,” Three bowed, exposing her neck ganglion. “She defeated the last of her rivals last night. The Vinithri have a Queen Mother once again.”
The Queen’s Chamber was nearly the deepest excavation in the mountain. Like its predecessor on the Vinithri Homeworld, it was wide with a lofted cathedral ceiling nearly to the top of the Keep. When the Queen reached Falleron, she would live out the rest of her days in a place like this, producing the billions of eggs for the next generation of the Vinithri civilization. As such, the chamber in the Keep replicated the low light of the one on Falleron, save the light wasn’t quite as dim, allowing Terrans to move about and work in the chamber.
Three and the Lumburg’s bowed before they entered the room. Angkor, the Emperor, did not. As a monarch he marched in, head high, staring neither left nor right as he proceeded through the pathway of the Vinithri warriors in the room, exposing their neck ganglion as he passed.
A cluster of royals huddled in the center of the room. One stepped forward and bared her neck. “Emperor Doctor Angkor Khan,” and her manner was as if she spoke to a god.
“Second Daughter,” answered the Emperor. “I am pleased to see you again.”
&nbs
p; “Alas, Emperor Doctor Angkor Khan, my elder sister who was First Daughter joyfully died when she heard the new Mother had completed the ritual combat this morning,” the Vinithri said. “As such, I am now First Daughter and voice for the new Mother, until her eldest are ready to take over the nest.”
“Oh, how sad, First Daughter. Please accept my deepest regrets for the passing of your sister,” Angkor stated. “She was an extraordinary being, and I shall miss her.”
The new Eldest Daughter startled. “Oh, no, Emperor Doctor Angkor Khan,” she insisted, “the passing of my predecessor is not a sorrowful thing. It is a wonderful, joyous thing! Our Mother gave her the task of making our peace with you and ensuring the future of our people. She has succeeded and brilliantly! I was honored when she offered me her neck. It shall be my life’s work to continue that which she started. When the time comes for me to offer my neck to the next First Daughter, I hope I meet it with the same dignity and fulfillment as her!
“But to business.” She lowered her head again, exposing her neck. “Her Majesty, our new Mother, wishes to meet with you.” An opening in the circle of the tall, yellow and green Vinithri appeared.
She was nearly as long as an adult, save her abdomen was a full eighty percent of her body. Her thorax and head were perhaps a three and a half feet long. She was a glittering gold with brilliant emerald green eyes. She didn’t bow as her elders had, instead tipping her head to one side as she examined the tall Terran before her.
“You are the Terran Emperor, Angkor Khan, yes?”
He startled slightly. Somehow, he expected her voice to be high pitched, as a child. Rather, it had a timeworn, ancient tone, as though she had seen a dozen centuries and was weary.
“I am,” he said. “And how do I address you?
“I am the Mother,” was her tired reply. “Or I will be, soon. My aunts tell me we will depart for Falleron this evening. They wanted to leave sooner, but I insisted on meeting you first. And here you are.”
“Yes, Mother,” Angkor said. “I am pleased you waited.”
“Please come closer,” she asked. “My eyes are already adjusting to the light I will have on our new nest. I’m afraid that means I am nearly blind now and will be completely so when I arrive on Falleron. I’d like to examine you closely so I will have a memory of you.”
“Of course.” Angkor leaned close to the young Queen. Her antennae extended and brushed across his face and head. She emitted a pleasant odor that came out of her translator as cooing.
“I assume you must be very handsome for a monkey,” the Queen said with delight. “Although how sad your antennae are so flaccid and limp.” She twisted his hair in one of her own flexible antennae.
Angkor laughed. “It is my hair,” he explained. “Its only purpose is to keep my ears warm. And I’m sure my wife must find me handsome as you do. She also likes to play with my hair.”
The Queen quivered with laughter. “You are a strange people,” she said. “I don’t understand your having a wife and a husband. But it seems to work for you, so I’ll assume it is a good thing.” She leaned close to Angkor. “Since we didn’t make any drones, I will be inseminated by the seed we have available,” she said conspiratorially. “I will be the first in my line not to have to do so. Perhaps the last. But do warn your wife, I find you handsome for a monkey. So if she treats you poorly, I will have my warriors snip her neck and I will claim you for my own!”
The two monarchs shared a chuckle. Then the Mother became serious. “Angkor, my Mother left me a message. She instructed me to do whatever it took to ensure the survival of our species. The First Daughter gave me a message for her predecessor that laid out your agreement between our people. Including the alteration, you made to our DNA ensuring we will remain loyal.”
“It was necessary.”
“Yes, I am sure. I can see the wisdom in this,” the young Queen said, “and it has been done. I could no more raise my hand and strike you than I could fly to Falleron without a ship. What I need to let you know is we, you and I, must carry this secret to our graves. My First Aunt knows nothing of what was on the note, nor shall I ever let her know. I need your pledge that you will keep this secret.”
“Of course,” Angkor answered. “The agreement was made to ensure the survival of both our species. Now that it is done, I will carry this secret to my grave as you have asked.”
The Queen visibly relaxed. “Good,” she said. “I swear to you, that I will likewise carry this secret to my end. I have one more request of you, Angkor. It is a small thing. But it I will die happily one day to leave this mark upon your descendants, as an eternal mark of Terra’s and the Vinithri bonding.” She wiggled her arm to come closer.
Angkor placed his ear next to the translator and heard her whispered request. He smiled as he looked into her jeweled green eyes. “Of course, Queen Mother. I shall see to it personally. Such a wondrous contribution, simple, elegant and a sign for all time of our friendship. Thank you.”
“Thank you, Emperor Doctor Angkor Khan,” the Queen bared her neck ganglion, “for helping create me and for saving my people. I will go now to Falleron to my duties. I doubt we shall ever see each other again. Fare thee well, my friend Angkor Khan.”
Angkor bowed low. “Farewell my friend, Queen-Mother of the Vinithri,” he said. “If we don’t meet again in this lifetime, perhaps the next.”
Chapter 26
January 3066 A.D.
The laboratory beneath the mountain at the Keep was a godsend for the Emperor.
While the machinery of the bureaucracy that ran the Empire was still largely in Zurich, Angkor had found as many ways possible to oversee his Empire from the Keep in the Khangai Mountains. It was home, familiar territory from his childhood. While he hadn’t spent years living in the Keep as did his father and brother, the memories were still amiable.
He and Sophia would break for weekends occasionally to their home in Indianola. It was privacy they made there. The troops who were assigned to his protective detail prided themselves in not being seen by the royal pair. The residents of the small town treated them as Ang and Sophie, just another couple in their small community.
But the laboratory in the Keep was where Angkor spent his every spare moment. He eschewed his own lab or desk for a simple research station amongst the other scientists. His guards were left standing outside the door so Doctor Angkor could continue his research.
The only time he exercised any authority was at the request by the Vinithri Queen Mother. It was a small change. Few on the Council opposed it. But those who did were most adamant.
“Eye color is one of the random factors we are counting on,” was the argument. “If we start making rules on eye color, like a bunch of proofing nitpickers on Harvest Day, what’s next? Are we going to be designing these children to be perfect little robots? There must be some random chance!”
“I gave my word as Emperor,” Angkor decreed. “This will be the only visible connection between my heirs and the Vinithri, who made this all possible. It must be so.”
The File Committee would listen to the arguments before going to their chamber to reflect and meditate. The decision on the matter of eye color was onerous, so they waited overnight to announce their decision. The Emperor Doctor was correct. As not only Emperor, but the founding father of this line, it was within his right to demand so inconsequential a thing as eye color.
From that day forward until hundreds of thousands of years later when the File Committee was dissolved, the eyes of all the Khan’s heirs would be vibrant emerald.
He entered his chambers, exhausted. His morning had involved matters of state, the largely boring minutia that made up the Sovereign’s day. Judicial appointments, ministerial reports. A visit from the ambassador of Mer, complaining about the shore leave visit by the Imperial Destroyer Muay Thai. The leave had gotten out of hand, dozens of bars damaged, some looting and the virtue of fine Mer maidens impinged. Angkor listened to the report and promised a full in
vestigation. He sent a message to Admiral Schurenburg, asking for the results of the investigation and charges to be filed. Compensation for the physical damage would come from the fleet.
His relief was an entire afternoon at his work station. The sequencing was going well. Geneticists were careful, cautious scientists. Each line of detail would be examined for even the slightest flaw. One strand out of place could render the entire plan imperfect, creating an imperfect heir. The loss of his son Buru, Angkor had decided, was possibly due to an imperfection he had missed.
Their quarters were dark when he finally quit for the evening. Sophia was in Occident, touring schools. Angkor missed her when she wasn’t home. Since he had banished Buru, she selected children as her vocation and cause. The newsfeeds showed her nearly every night, touring a school here or an orphanage there.
During his annual tour in the spring, she had convinced him to accompany her to visit the children of his Empire. Angkor joined them in singing songs; he knew a great many tunes from his time in the nomad camps as a child and was delighted when the youngsters taught him their songs.
Planetary officials became concerned. In the past, they could count on Emperor Angkor Khan to examine the economic engines of their worlds and comment gravely on the need for keeping order throughout the Empire. Instead, he and the Empress watched skits, accept flowers and gifts and examined children’s schoolwork with the same gravity that the Khan had previously given his Empire.
In dark corners of that Empire, plots began to form.
Angkor took little or no note of the reports of these plotters. His security was assured, he told himself. While there would need to be a reckoning one day with his three oldest friends, in the meantime each was proving to be a strong, loyal member of his Empire.
