Exodus - Empires at War 04 - The Long Fall (Exodus Series #4)

by Doug Dandridge

  “At ease, people,” said the Colonel, returning the salute of the Corporal. “Son,” he said, looking at Cornelius, “come over here and let me talk with you.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Cornelius, walking behind the Colonel.

  “Son,” said Preacher in a low voice when they had reached the corner of the room. “You’ve got to learn to control your temper. The Army demands more than skill and killer instinct. They demand discipline.”

  “I just want to learn how to kill Cacas,” said Cornelius, his face screwing up in anger.

  “You already know how to kill Cacas, Cornelius. You’ve probably already killed more than all but a few will kill in this entire war, no matter how long it lasts. What we need you to do is know the best way to get other men into position to kill Cacas. I think you have the makings of an officer, but you will only get there if you jump through the hoops we set for you. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Cornelius.

  “Don’t worry, son. If you don’t make officer, I would still take you as an NCO in my command any day. You have it in you to be a leader by example. Just remember that the men around you are not your enemies. Even when you are in training, and things are being yelled at you with the intent of making you lose your temper, remember, they are just doing their jobs. Their job is to get to you, to put pressure on you.”

  “I’ll do anything I have to do to get to kill Cacas,” said Cornelius, a cold smile on his face.

  “Sometimes you even scare me, Cornelius,” said the man. “My God, but you do.”

  “We’ve received our boarding call, Colonel,” called the Corporal.

  “You’re coming with us, sir?”

  “I have been ordered to familiarization training, son,” said Preacher with a smile. “Even an old dog like myself has to learn new tricks when the master demands it.”

  *

  IMPERIAL PALACE, CAPITULUM, APRIL 29TH, 1000.

  Doctor Jennifer Conway woke with a splitting headache and a queasy feeling in her stomach that told of imbibing way too much alcohol the night before. Not every day you can go to a coronation ball, she thought, reaching for some sober up pills that would take care of what her internal nanites hadn’t. She popped two pills in her mouth and waited for them to take effect. Even if the ball was actually planned for another Emperor.

  She sat up in bed as the headache left, remembering what she could about the night before. She had an almost perfect episodic memory, even when she was intoxicated, and could tell that she hadn’t done anything too embarrassing last night. She had danced with the Emperor, who had been a complete gentleman with her, not trying to take advantage of her lack of inhibitions. And I have never seen anyone drink so much and stay so sober, she thought, thinking of how he interacted with all the people who wanted to congratulate him. Was that genetic? And the succession of Lady This and Lord That, names which did escape her memory.

  At one point in the evening she had watched a replay of Sean’s power play at the cathedral, before he was crowned. She was relieved that he had not killed his third cousin, even as she was gratified that he had shown himself capable of such an action. We’re going to need a killer as an Emperor if we’re going to survive this war. And she lay there for a few moments more before she got up, thinking about what she felt for the young man who was now officially the most powerful human in space.

  I don’t love him, she thought, an image of his handsome face in her mind. It’s too soon after Glen’s death to love anyone. But could I love him in the future? And why would he even want to love someone so far beneath his station?

  Finally Jennifer forced herself from the bed and into the shower. She found clean clothes laid out on her already made bed when she got out of the bathroom. I could get used to this, she thought, as she put on the casual but expensive clothing.

  “The Emperor is having breakfast in the Green Room, and requests your presence, Dr. Conway,” said the ancient servant that she understood was one of the senior members of the staff.

  “Thank you, Landry, is it not?” And I guess I should be honored that you are seeing after my needs yourself.

  “Yes, ma’am,” said the Major Domo. “If you would follow me.”

  Jennifer tried to keep from gawking as she was led down a long hallway and through a sitting room. Expensive original paintings hung on every wall. The walls were of polished wood, or hung with original papers. The show of wealth was beyond anything she could have imagined, and she wondered if all forty square kilometers of palace were this ostentatious.

  The Green Room lived up to its name. The wallpaper was green, as were the paintings on the walls and the fixtures. Even the table was of a green tinted wood, highly polished. She had been told the night before that this room was normally used for family dining, and not for dinners of state. It was still the largest dining room she had ever set foot in.

  Sean sat at the head of the table, with Samantha to his right. Both had plates full of eggs and sausage to their front, and steaming cups of coffee. Platters of food sat on the table, and there was a place set to the Emperor’s left.

  “Please, have a seat Doctor,” said Sean, motioning to one of the liveried staff. “Coffee for the Doctor, Catherine, if you please.”

  Jennifer sat down to the table and helped herself to the eggs and sausage, then grabbed a hot roll and slathered it with fresh butter. Catherine brought a steaming cup of coffee and Jennifer added sugar and cream from the silver containers set on the table for that purpose. She took a sip of the best coffee she had ever tasted and sighed.

  “It’s grown on New Tahiti,” said Sean with a smile, putting down his own cup. “From Jamaican Blue Mountain stock. And the sausage is a specialty of Benedict, the breakfast chef.”

  Jennifer cut a piece of sausage and brought it to her mouth on a fork that was probably seven hundred years old. She closed her eyes and mmmed as she tasted the perfect blend of quality meat and spices. “I could get used to this.”

  “Then marry me, and you can have it for life,” said Sean with a smile, just before Samantha swatted him on the arm.

  “Remember your promise,” said Jennifer, giving the Emperor a stern look. “Strictly professional.”

  “Strictly professional,” agreed Sean, the smile never leaving his eyes. He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked over at Samantha. “We have a meeting to go to.”

  “Two minutes,” said Samantha, nodding her head.

  “Are you going to make it?” asked Jennifer.

  “Sure,” said Sean. “It’s a short elevator ride down to the bunker.”

  “The bunker?”

  “The underground shelter and quarters,” said Sean. “It’s about two kilometers down, under armor and bedrock, with connections to most of the important structures, like the Hexagon, the Lords, you name it.”

  “So, why don’t you use that all the time?” asked Jennifer, thinking of how much safer it would be to stay out of the public eye.

  “The citizens expect to see the people who govern them,” said Sean, nodding to Samantha, who got up from her chair. “My cousin May will show you around today, unless you would rather stay in the palace and relax.”

  Not on your life, buddy boy, thought the Doctor. “I want to see all of this fairy tale castle, if it’s alright with you.”

  “Look all you want,” said Sean, putting down his cup and standing. “We’ll have dinner tonight at the Prime Minister’s home. If that would please you.”

  “Yes, it would.”

  Sean smiled at her once again, then followed Samantha out of the room. May came in moments later, a small Asian woman who must have come from the Lee side of the family. She was very down to earth, and Jennifer warmed to her immediately. She showed Jennifer one of the gardens, fifty acres of flowering plants from a hundred worlds, flanked on two sides by enormous greenhouses. A couple of gardeners and four robots were working in the garden, making sure that the planters and plots were filled with currently blooming flo
wers.

  “There are forty more gardens on the grounds,” said May as they walked along the brick path. “There are desert gardens, night gardens, even one made up entirely of carnivorous plants. That one is of course locked, and you can only visit it while escorted by one of the curators.”

  “How many total buildings, besides the Palace?” asked Jennifer, stopping to take in the scent of some otherworldly flowers that smelled like heaven.

  “Five hundred,” said the woman with a shrug. “More.” She closed her eyes for a moment and linked. “Seven hundred and fifty-four, not including the many small storage sheds. We have housing for some of the staff who don’t live in the palace, barracks or the Security detail, stables.”

  “Stables?” said Jennifer with a smile. “With horses?”

  “Among other riding beasts,” said May, smiling. “Do you ride?”

  “Not for a long time, but I would love to sit a horse again.”

  “And so you shall,” said May. Moments later an aircar landed nearby, and they got in for a short ride, no more than ten kilometers, to a series of stables, overlooking a field and forested trails that must have taken up a hundred square kilometers. The aircar landed and May escorted Jennifer to the nearest stable, where a pair of Arabian mares were being saddled for them.

  Jennifer galloped her horse out in the open, enjoying the feel of the air in her hair, and the excitement of the muscular beast between her legs. She looked up for a moment, to see a couple of aircars cruising slowly overhead, circling the field. Ahead was the forest, and she sighted a Marine in battle armor floating over the trees.

  “How much security is there on the grounds?” she asked May. The woman appeared to be uncomfortable with the question, but after a moment’s hesitation answered.

  “Two battalions of Marines and a Brigade of soldiers guard the grounds. That’s besides the more than a thousand Imperial Secret Service Agents that patrol the palace proper, or actually guard the person of the Emperor and family. An entire Imperial Marine Division, from which the two battalions are rotated, and two Imperial Army Divisions, one armored, are barracked at the edge of the premises. You’ve seen the aircars, which are manned by the Secret Service?”

  “And I saw a Marine in heavy battle armor floating over the edge of this forest,” said Jennifer, looking at the woods around them as the horses trotted down the path.

  “How did you know he was a Marine?” asked May, giving Jennifer a curious look.

  “My fiancé’, Glen, was an Imperial Marine. So I know what the armor looks like.”

  “You said was. Did he leave the Corps?”

  “No,” said Jennifer, looking down at the ground. “He was killed on Sestius IV. By those damned aliens.”

  “I am so sorry,” said May, reining her horse to a halt beside Jennifer’s and reaching over to put her hand on the Doctor’s forearm. “I am so very sorry.”

  “We would all probably be dead, me and the other citizens of the planet, if Sean hadn’t have come and gotten us.”

  “You will have time to heal here,” said May, giving Jennifer a sympathetic smile.

  The sun was bright in the sky when they left the woods and rode out into another open field. There were actual cattle in this field, and other horses, roaming loose. Above were the two aircars that had been following them. When Jennifer gestured toward them May looked up.

  “That’s only the low cover. Up where you can’t see them is the high cover, Naval and Army atmospheric attack craft. Stingships.”

  “How do you get used to all of this security?” asked Jennifer, looking over the high field, seeing the distant megascrapers twenty kilometers distant through the misty air of the city. It’s such a contrast. Horses and cattle, open fields and forests, within sight of the largest city of the Empire.

  “You just get used to it,” said the other woman, shrugging her shoulders. “Like anything else, I guess.”

  Not sure if I will, thought Jennifer as they rode back toward the stables. Of course, it’s probably better to be overprotected than to be the prey of deadly aliens bent on our destruction.

  *

  BATTLE CRUISER JEAN DE ARC, MAY 1, 1000.

  “And this is your bridge, ma’am,” said the young Lt. Commander who had been assigned as her liaison with the builders.

  Commodore Duchess Mei Lei looked around the large flag bridge and whistled. Of course there had been a flag bridge aboard her old Jean de Arc. All capital ships had them, just in case they were chosen for the task of flagship. And even though she had been an acting commodore the last time out, she had also been the ship’s captain, and it had just made sense to run everything from the main bridge.

  This ship was also called the Jean de Arc, a replacement for the old one, that had been a new ship when she met her end. A replacement for everything, but my exec, and all the others who didn’t come back from that mission. This vessel was even more advanced than the last, capable of a better turn of acceleration by almost ten gravities. And there were more advanced ships on the drawing boards, and sure to be even more advancements once they reverse engineered the tech they had recovered from the Ca’cadasans.

  “When will she be ready for trials?” she asked the Commander.

  “Another month,” said the man. “Maybe another week for the others in the squadron. Here,” said the Commander, activating the central holo tank. “You can see them here.”

  The holo came to life, showing the nearby Central Docks, then zoomed in on the four ships of the squadron hanging in space, including Jean de Arc. There were still crews doing some finishing work on the outer hulls, men and robots spraying on the nanoskin that was both defensive reflective system and active/passive sensors. Shuttles were entering all of the ships, carrying equipment that would be installed in the coming weeks.

  “Normally we would be doing most of this work with the vessels still in space dock,” said the Commander, looking back at the small Commodore. “But with the increase of production those docks are being used to do the initial construction on newer vessels.”

  “I totally understand,” said Mei, checking the time on her chronometer. The flag staff were to meet in one of the completed conference rooms, and she was anxious to get to know the people that would allow her collection of ships to act as a unit. Also coming would be the captains and execs of all the ships, and her own flag captain, Kelvin Gomez. “We’re going to need all the ships we can get, so any short term inconvenience is something we’re just going to have to deal with. Now, if you would be so kind as to show me to the conference rooms, since the computers aren’t fully up and running.”

  “Yes, ma’am. This way.”

  Mei took one last look at the holo, then the room that would be her home for hopefully many years, and then followed the Commander out of the bridge.

  *

  UNKNOWN LOCATION, MAY 5TH,1000.

  The wormhole seemed to open out of empty space, though Commander Xavier Jackson knew that was an illusion. The wormhole had always been there, just too small to see until his hosts had expanded it for use. He was still amazed that there was no frame around the hole to keep it open. Somehow the creatures had discovered a way to keep the holes, which naturally wanted to pinch closed, open, without the use of negative matter or physical apparatus.

  One of the hosts came through the hole into his chambers. The creatures seemed to have a different concept of privacy than humans, and though they didn’t restrict his movements except around their power generating facilities, they still didn’t seem to understand the need to announce their presence before entering his.

  “You do well today, Xavier Jackson?” said the radial symmetrical being in perfect Terranglo.

  Jackson recognized the creature by its marking, the red and gold stripping individual for each of the beings. He had been surprised at first that they spoke his language so well, and then that they spoke to their servants in a variety of tongues. I guess something with a brain three times larger than our own
would be much brighter than we are, he thought, nodding and smiling at the creature. “I am well today, Klorasof,” he said. He still had trouble reading the body language of the beings. That they had body language he had no doubt. When they spoke their six arms gestured. The eyes also moved, those that happened to be looking his way. There were no other facial expressions from the sophonts who lacked faces.

  “That is good,” said the creature, moving smoothly across the floor on the cilia beneath his body. “I would like to show you some more of our installation today.”

  “Why?” asked Jackson, still not sure what the beings wanted with him. “And why did you bother to rescue me, when you could just have easily let me drift in space until my life support ran out?”

  “Because we were curious,” said the creature who was a member of the species known to humans as the Ancients. “And we thought it uncivilized to let you simply drift in space and die alone.”

  And that’s the rub, thought the Executive Officer of the Jean de Arc, a ship which no longer existed, though he had been assured that most of the crew had gotten off of it. These guys fear being alone. And dying alone is the worst thing they can imagine.

  Xavier followed the Ancient through the wormhole, and found himself in a large chamber that contained a dozen ten meter wide spheres set into the floor.

  “These spheres contain baby universes,” said the alien, pointing a tentacle at one of the metallic objects. “We extract energy from the zero point energy of each universe, until it collapses completely. Our ships use the same power source.”

  Jackson nodded his head, remembering his trip in one of those ships, a vessel that opened wormholes at will and moved instantaneously from place to place. That ship was smaller than an Imperial Frigate, but he was sure it could destroy a battleship in an open fight. He had only seen that one ship, and wasn’t sure how many the aliens had. His gut feeling was not many. He looked closely at one of the spheres and saw that it was dark, as compared to the one next to it that was lit up. He took a count and found that only five of the twelve spheres seemed to have power.