by David Winnie
Around Delhi, a crowd gathered at the rim of the crater. It bisected both the Yamuna and sacred Ganges rivers. Both rivers were now filling the crater, forming a lake where there was once a bustling city.
Twenty-four hours after Delhi died, a Brahmana poised himself at the lip of the crater, his arms raised. He began to sing the Bhajans, the ritual of naming the thousand names of Vishnu. There were few bodies to cremate and even less fuel to support the cremations. Those gathered around the now sacred lake clapped hands and sang the ritual for the victims of the city.
Sixty of the Bougartd raiders crashed onto the surface of Terra. One hundred thirty-five Bougartd crew members found themselves stranded there. To their misfortune, seventy-eight were captured by angry Terrans before troops could arrive to take custody of prisoners. Their deaths were neither quick nor painless, since Terrans had perfected the art of torturing their enemies to death for many millenniums.
Twenty Hecht escape pods containing two hundred ninety-six Hecht were secured near Luna. None of the crew from the third Hecht dreadnaught survived.
The Captain of the Hecht ship captured near Luna was invited to dine with the Crown Prince. Her hind leg had been injured during the fight and after she was captured a Terran surgeon had amputated it. A few days later, she was escorted under heavy guard to supper with Janus in the Keep. The table was set for monkeys, she noted. But there was an elevated table facing the main dining table, clearly meant for her. The guards secured her neck chain to a staple affixed at the table. She could just stand, but would have to bow to do so.
Janus sat at the center of the table, generals and other officials to his left and right. He stood and addressed the Hecht officer. “I greet you, Grrrscdd, former Captain of my prize now in orbit around Luna. These officers are my War Council. I am Janus Arcadia Khan, Crown Prince of the Terran Empire.”
Grrrscdd stood as far as the chain of her neck would allow. “That means nothing to me, little monkey,” she snarled. “I demand you take me to my crew so I can verify you are treating them according to the Conventions of War by the Galactic Council. I further demand you notify my government of our capture so negotiations for our release can be arranged.”
“Captain, Captain, I assure you your crew is being taken care of,” Janus replied. “Please, let us be civilized beings, yes? Sit, my chefs have prepared a special dinner for us that I am sure you will find memorable.”
She tugged at the chain, hissed, then sat. Her guards pointed their weapons at her as a waiter appeared with a platter bearing a large slab of meat. Grrrscdd picked it up and sniffed. It was a haunch of Hecht, spiced and burned, as Terrans were known to do. Obviously, the Terrans expected her to be offended by serving her a piece of one of her crew. Clearly, they didn’t understand the Hecht. She ripped a piece off with her teeth, chewed and swallowed.
“How is your leg, Captain?” Janus asked.
“I appreciate the skill of your physician, monkey,” answered Grrrscdd. “I am sure she would find a job with your people as a butcher, as adroit as she was in removing my leg.”
“You misunderstand me, Captain,” Janus said. “I can see how well my physician removed your leg. My question is how well did my chef prepare it for your supper?”
Strange creatures, these monkeys. Though Grrrscdd appreciated the insult. She tore off another piece and ate it. “A pity your chef ruined by burning it as she did. Of course, I understand monkeys burn all their food. Disgusting.” Grrrscdd believed she was as skilled at insults as well as this monkey. “I can assume you are feeding my crew as well?”
“Whether your crew is fed or not is no longer your concern.” Janus ate a morsel. “Mmmmmmm, delicious. My compliments, Captain.”
“Now, as for your crew. It is unfortunate for all of you that Terra didn’t sign your conventions. Nor will you have any protection under our laws. As such, I have given consideration as to what to do with your crew and your allies, the Bougartd. There will be no negotiation for your release. You are all now my property. You will be kept at our facility on Europa. I would advise against escape; we will simply open the building to the atmosphere. You will be put to work, of course. And since we have little knowledge of your physiology, you can expect half to two thirds of your crew to volunteer for examination and investigation.”
“You mean experimentation!” shot back the Hecht.
“You bombed our cities,” exploded Janus. “You murdered at least a billion of my people. You have no moral defense, no reason, and no excuse that should be given even the slightest consideration for any form of mercy.”
“You’re a barbarian!”
“Yes, we are,” smiled Janus. He selected another morsel of her leg. “Mmmmmmm, delicious.”
Angkor drifted in and out of lucidity. When he was aware, he accepted the warmth and love from his visitors. Janus kept him aware of what was happening within the Empire. He smiled at the joke Janus played on the Hecht captain and sucked on the sliver of the leg he was brought. Grrrscnk had always teased about eating him.
His dreams were nightmares. Suishin visited him often, mocking his failures. Sophia would join him, wailing that Angkor had promised to care for her…and had failed miserably. Tenzing stood over his bed, disapproving.
Salaam, Xaid and Dawlish came to him. “Had you only listened to me,” Dawlish scolded, “none of this would have happened. All these deaths…” the apparition shook its head.
He could hear the wails of the billion. Faceless specters milled through his room, drifted over his bed. “I’m sorry, so sorry…” he told them, over and over. But still the phantoms came, driving him deeper into his despair.
A long lost, but familiar figure in saffron, appeared at his side. “My friend, you came to see me,” the Khan said joyfully. “Where have you been all these years?”
“My friend Pitth,” his spiritual center answered, “as I told you, I have been with you always. I am here because today you need me the most.”
“Today?” Angkor became angry. “Today? What about when the aliens attacked? Where were you then? When my friends deceived me and I murdered my own brother? When my wife…” he broke down and began to cry.
His center stroked his steel colored hair. “Pitth, my student, my friend,” he said, soothing. “All these things and more were written in the pages of time long ago. You placed your stones masterfully and today you should revel in what you have created, not mourn what you have lost.”
“What I have created!” Angkor grew furious. “What I have created was death, loss, devastation. All I have done was kill, destroy and to what end?” He sobbed, “Look at the five cities. That is what I have wrought.”
“Indeed?” replied his center, “Would you like to see what you have truly wrought?” He beckoned.
A mist formed. Angkor startled as Janus entered, looking older and wearing the hideous golden robe and fur cap his mother had purchased for his own naming day. He kowtowed, then stepped away, followed by another young man dresses identically, who repeated the gesture. Then another and another.
One entered, his clothing monochromic, bound in a heavy chain. He kowtowed and turned to join the others. “Wait,” called Angkor, “who are you?”
“I am, I will be known as…Eight,” the trussed man responded.
“Eight,” Angkor considered. “Such an odd name. Why are you bound and your clothing so dark?”
“I am, I will be a perversion of your line,” was the morose response. “I sought to destroy all you created. I will die at the hands of my dearest friend. My daughter has, will remove my name for all time. I am bound in penance for my misdeeds.”
He turned and joined the others in the mist. Angkor watched as men and women, all dressed in the golden robes, passed.
The line continued. A slight woman with hair as golden as the sun was bowing to him. “Wait,” he called to her.
“Yes Grandfather?” Her hair was long, past her waist and flowed as blown by an unfelt breeze. Her eyes blazed a famili
ar emerald green.
“What is your name, child?” he asked.
She stood straight, hands on her hips, looking down her tiny nose. “I am; I will be Queen Annika Khan. I will enlarge our Empire more than a thousand-fold.”
Angkor sighed. “Daughter, you have your grandmother’s beautiful hair.”
The small woman kowtowed. “You honor me, Grandfather.”
She turned and the line continued.
A massive being appeared wearing scarred battle armor. The panoply was dull gold with a rainbow of stripes on the upper legs. “Who are you, Grandson?” the Emperor asked.
“I am, I will be General Svere Khan,” he answered, saluting. “I am; I will be the only Khan not your reincarnation. Extremists tried to usurp the Empire. I served as Emperor until the heir was ready to assume the throne.”
“What of the extremists, General?” Angkor demanded.
“It took me ten years and nearly a quarter of the Empire’s lives to stamp the heretics out,” the General reported, his green eyes blazing. “For that, I will be remembered as Svere the Slaughterer.” He saluted and once again the line continued.
Men, women, tall and short. Hair of every color, bodies heavyset and slender. All had one physical trait in common.
Asian eyes, emerald green.
Hundreds, then thousands passed by, each bowing deep to their founder. With some, Angkor held short conversations, as he had with Eight, Queen Annika and the General. He didn’t know how long they were there, watching the endless line of future Khans passing by.
A tall being, neither male nor female, stood before him in the familiar golden robe and fur hat. Emerald eyes looked kindly on Angkor. It was disconcerting seeing this Khan as it was wavering, turning translucent then solidifying, as though it were here but not here. “Was it a ghost?” wondered Angkor. “What is your name, Grandson?” he asked.
Its smile was beatific as it kowtowed. “I am, I will be,” it paused, “The Last.”
“The Last,” repeated Angkor. “Then my Empire will die one day.”
Its laughter was like a dozen tiny bells. “Oh Grandfather!” it answered. “In my time, we are beyond anything as mundane and prosaic as death. Sol has long gone cold and our Temple lays safe beneath a layer of ice miles deep. Each of my predecessors was designed to be an improvement of the previous. I am the result. We, Terrans, have evolved. To the younger species, we are as Gods. As such, I have no reason to meddle in their affairs, save to ensure they follow your law.
“Today, we walk amongst the stars. Not just in our own galaxy, but in as many as we can see beyond. We are ancients now and I spend my time speaking of great things with the other ancients of the universe. This is your legacy, Emperor Angkor Khan, first of the Terran Khans.”
The whole of the assembly kowtowed once again and faded as the mist thickened. “Come young Pitth,” his center sounded sad. “It is time for you to say good bye.”
Angkor pulled the mask aside and croaked, “Janus. I want Janus right now.”
He was hurried to his grandfather’s side. It was time. Angkor pulled at the mask, so Janus helped him remove it. The Khan beckoned him closer.
He placed his hand on Janus’s head. “You are Emperor now,” he said. “You are the sword and shield. You are defender of my Law. Keep our Empire forever strong and free.” He kissed Janus on the forehead and said, “It is done.”
His eyes closed. A smile formed on his face as Emperor Angkor Khan, First of the Terran Emperors, died.
The Emperor Janus Arcadia Khan personally announced his grandfather’s death. “He sacrificed himself to build the Empire and died protecting us all. I swear to you all, this day, that I shall give of myself as my grandfather did, to protect and to serve our Empire.”
As his ancestors had, Angkor was dressed in his finest robe and sat in state on his throne in Ulaan Baatar for three days. Mourners from across the Empire knelt before the Khan and swore their fealty in this world and the next. In a break with tradition, the new Khan allowed his seven brothers and sisters to stand at his side as they observed who properly paid Grandfather their respects. And who did not. In the coming months, Imperial Intelligence would be kept busy with the knowledge.
From there, soldiers bore their leader to the Keep, now known as The Temple of Angkor Khan, as declared by grandson and heir, Janus Khan. Angkor himself had sealed the old tomb of the previous Headmen of the Khalkha. “It is appropriate,” he had told Janus. “The chamber containing my Father and our ancestors is the place of the old order, the Headmen of the Khalkha. I am the Founder of this new line. You are the first of a new breed, the first of the superior Terran Khans.” The new tomb was built beneath the arched cathedral that had once housed the Vinithri Queen.
Corbodium is the hardest crystal in the known sciences. To cut one, the crystal is phased partially into the fifth dimension where it becomes malleable. A sarcophagus was created by the scientists of Angkor’s Temple. The bonzes placed him within it, along with the urn containing the ashes of his wife, Sophia. A stasis generator would prevent deterioration of the Great Khan for all time. The corbodium casket was closed and returned to the third dimension. Sealed within the crystal, the Great Khan and his lady were protected for all time.
The tomb had been designed and built by both Terran and Vinithri scientists. The first of the three chambers was reserved for preparing any who entered. The second was the ossuary for all the Khans who would follow. Janus was assured it would always be exactly as large as it needed to be.
The third was a gold lined chamber for Grandfather and Grandmother. Janus had personally inspected the tomb years before. Written on the gilded walls was his Grandfather greatest achievement.
The Laws of Angkor Khan.
Chapter 35
Year 10,136 of the Galactic Union (August 3129 A.D.)
Hrrrhncht, First Premier of the Hecht Homogeny, stood regally in the accused box as it was driven before the dais in the Galactic Union’s Grand Hall. As Premier, she was expected to be here to witness the decision of the High Court of the Council, a duty and burden she gladly accepted.
Hoots and hisses, growls and cries greeted her as the carriage was paraded before the nine hundred species who were members of the Council. A handful of feces landed at her feet, just one of the dozens of missiles being flung. Her predecessor, Grrrscnt, daughter of the thrice-cursed Grrrscnk, had placed the Hecht in this situation.
With Grrrscnt dying in her dreadnaught over Terra, and none of her daughters old enough to battle her, Hrrrhncht had seized control of the Homogony. Now, as Premier, her first duty was to stand before an angry Galactic Union and answer for the Hecht’s failure.
Arrived at the foot of the dais, the crowd was allowed to express its fury for exactly five minutes before the gong announced the start of the proceedings. The chamber was immediately silent, though the threat of riot lay just below a veneer of civility.
“Our box is empty,” noted Hrrrhncht. “This does not portend well for us.” As one of the fifty founding members of the Council, their place of honor had always been on the central aisle, the second from the left away from the front. Normally, the Ambassador and her staff would be seated there in their finery. The empty seats could only mean the Supreme Court’s decision would go badly.
Heavy curtains at the rear of the dais opened to darkness. Lights came up slowly, from red to the brightness of the room, revealing the three robed figures of the Supreme Court of the Galactic Union.
Tradition spoke to justice being blind. As such, in the ten-thousand-year history of the Union, the identity of the three justices on the Supreme Court had never been revealed. They would only appear together in their robes, seated (it was assumed) behind their bench. Each would speak into a microphone inside their robes, broadcast by a voder which translated their native tongue and voice.
“Hear now the judgement of the Supreme Court in the matter of the Galactic Council versus the Hecht Homogeny.” The voice was of a young man, al
beit scratchy and hoarse. “The Founders of our great society, of which the Hecht are a part, wrote:
“In the matters of our success, we shall always remember that success is a process of careful consideration, discussion and debate. As such, though ponderous, we shall never forget that our real strength will always come from meticulous planning and flawless execution. There shall never be any action unless it has been thoroughly examined and approved by the Council.
“Conversely, failure must always be recognized swiftly, less it becomes a poison to the Assembly. Once failure is discovered, it must be dealt with swiftly, finality and without mercy.
“Premier Hrrrhncht, the Hecht have been found guilty on two counts of failure. The first was on the failure to secure Terra with the aid of the Vinithri. The second was the unapproved and disastrous failure of securing Terra a second time with the aid of the Bougartd.
“Previously, the failure of the Solarians and the Vinithri were grounds to expel them from our Union. We are aware of the historical significance the Hecht have had on this Union since its very beginning. As such, we are loath to expel you. Rather, we reduce your status to that of observer, removing you from every office and committee of this Council. Your seat is moved to the row in the furthest reach of this hall. You are declined an invitation to rejoin this Council for a period of time not less than five hundred standard years. You are denied any tribute from this Union, nor may you exercise any trade agreement with any Council member world unless that treaty becomes approved through this Council. Do you accept these terms?”
Hrrrhncht gripped the rail of the accused box. Her crest rose a brilliant red. Nevertheless, she bowed and said, “The Hecht accepts the ruling of the Supreme Court.”
“Then, be gone from our sight.” The justice’s bench slid back and the curtains closed.
The craft containing Hrrrhncht trolleyed back up the center aisle way toward the atrium. The Council, its anger satisfied, ignored the former leader from their midst.
