Sector Eight (Perimeter Defense: Book #1)

by Michael Atamanov

  Nevertheless, I chose not to show my outrage or argue and thanked the head of the Orange House with a bow. The metal doors opened before us, and I saw Popori de Cacha. To put it lightly, the chameleon had seen better days. There were a multitude of burn marks on his soft skin, a scar from a collar or choker that had cut deep into his neck, and bruises and abrasions on his whole body. My bodyguard had obviously been tortured in an attempt to beat the desired confession out of him. The picture shocked the Duke, who was standing at my side.

  "They had no right to treat an authorized representative of the Crown Prince like that! I will not let this go unpunished and will be filing a complaint."

  "You have to file a complaint, Duke. But my bodyguard and I will try to be as far from here as possible at the time of its review."

  I walked up to Popori de Cacha and hugged him. The chameleon noticeably flinched; apparently my touch was quite painful to his wounded body. Nevertheless, Popori de Cacha raised his head, trained both eyes on me and said, touched:

  "My Prince! I never lost faith that you wouldn't abandon me!"

  "You think I could have left you in the hands of these torturers?! And where would I find another bodyguard like you? So skillful, so loyal! Plus, you put up with all of my antics and whims!”

  Standing change. Popori de Cacha's opinion of you has improved.

  Presumed personal opinion of you: +47 (friendly)

  Standing change. Chameleon race opinion of you has improved.

  Chameleon race opinion of you: +3 (indifferent)

  I replied by raising my opinion of him and hurried behind Duke Paolo royl Anjer, who was leaving without me. The Orange House leader’s plane brought us in the blink of an eye to our space shuttle, which was already ready for liftoff from the planet surface. Someone was waiting for us next to the shuttle: an important-looking lizard in a bright red armored suit was standing surrounded by six bodyguards. When our ship set down, the whole group set off to meet us. I looked quickly at the information to figure out what to expect from this meeting.

  Pandedede de Rua, plenipotentiary ambassador to the Empire

  Race: Chameleon

  Gender: Genderless at present

  Class: Diplomat

  Achievements: None

  Fame: +4

  Standing: + 0

  Presumed personal opinion of you: +5 (warm)

  Chameleon race opinion of you: +3 (warm)

  The ambassador was clearly seeking out a meeting with me, as he was waiting right next to my shuttle. But when he saw the head of the Orange House, he begged his forgiveness and approached the more senior figure in the court hierarchy. I have no idea what they talked about through an interpreter over there. A few times, their discussion began in raised tones, but then a system message popped up about a one-point improvement in Chameleon opinion of the Orange House, and the Duke answered in kind. Five minutes later, they were shaking hands, and the ambassador finally came to me.

  "Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky, I am very glad to express my gratitude to you from the whole Ravaash nation, which you people, for some reason, insist on calling chameleons." Obviously that was some kind of joke, given that the ambassador went silent, waiting for my reaction.

  Only after I smiled did the ambassador continue:

  "The joy and sorrow of my nation is the rocky, lifeless terrain that covers almost the whole surface of the planet Sss. It is quite poorly suited for raising crops. Only in a few, not-very-large valleys on Sss is it possible to survive or grow food. They are surrounded on all sides by hundreds and even thousands of miles of nothing but radioactive rock faces. These severe conditions are a serious limit to the population of my species. There really aren't many chameleons – around forty thousand in total, a tenth of which are soldiers. And though our soldiers are strong and capable, the Ravaash nation understands that the first conflict we have with a strong spacefaring nation would quickly become our nation's last."

  Here I fully supported the ambassador's opinion. When the Swarm carries out an operation, it has a huge star fleet and billions of soldiers for land-based battles, and the Empire is also capable of fielding an army and fleet no smaller. Without even wanting to, with neighbors like that, you start to gain an appreciation for peace.

  "The joy of my race was that the cliffs and crevices of Sss were rich in heavy and rare metals, which are so very necessary for building starships. Because of this, we were able to offer something to people on first contact, and in return we got technology, vehicles, fertilizer, grain and even domesticated animals. All the same, we are not small, unintelligent tadpoles. We studied the history of human expansion in space as carefully as possible, and we figured out that such an impulsive race could decide one day that they no longer want to pay for resources when they can simply be taken by force."

  "That is dead on!" I laughed back unhappily, also having studied the list of species made extinct by humanity in the process of its expansion through space.

  "Yes, Prince Georg, no offense intended to you as a human, but humanity has gone to war with forty-eight species out of the fifty-two they've come across in space, and has made eighteen of them completely extinct. That's a scary statistic to my mind. So, the Ravaash nation has spent long decades putting as much effort as possible into not giving humanity a cause to consider us an enemy. At first, that was not difficult; people didn't take us seriously and sold – and sometimes even just gave us – quite valuable technologies. Perhaps, your species underestimated the abilities of our scientists, I do not know. All the same, after the Ravaash were able to figure out warp technologies and copy the star frigate specimens we did have, human opinion of us changed sharply. The epoch of repression began: for forty long years they stopped selling us weapons and new technologies, and people also de facto stopped buying rare metals from us. Our attempts to trade on our own were harshly intercepted by the Orange House. When you, Prince Georg, came to us on Sss with your companion Miya, the Ravaash nation perceived that visit as a sign of warming relations with the Orange House. It was the first time a member of Imperial upper aristocracy visited our homeworld. We greeted you with special honors and six of the best soldiers of our nation became your bodyguards. At that time, it seemed to be the right decision for us... And suddenly the murder of two relatives of the Emperor happened, and the murderer turned out to be a chameleon!"

  The ambassador theatrically clutched at the left side of his chest with his upper appendages, symbolizing a heart flutter, which I involuntarily laughed at – chameleons don’t have such an internal organ, I had read that in the encyclopedia.

  "For two days the fate of my race hung by a thread, and only by your stubbornness and tireless effort were the accusations against Popori de Cacha cleared. The head of the Orange House has just promised me that the Orange House military fleet would soon be leaving the Sss star system. The Ravaash nation is extremely grateful to you, Prince Georg royl Inoky, and asks you to accept another six bodyguards of my race, just as expertly trained as the first six. I also ask you to include two Ravaash frigates in your fleet, which were such a thorn in the side of the Empire when they were first built. The crews of both starships are trained in human language, as are all members of my race that leave Sss.”

  I thanked the ambassador for the soldiers and ships he'd given me. Though I still thought to myself that the chameleon ships could become a burden to me. Two illegal copies, and probably not the highest quality at that, of Imperial frigates that were already antiquated a half century ago... Not the strongest ships in the fleet, to put it lightly. While, at the same time, losing either of the frigates would lead to the death of a quite noticeable proportion of all living soldiers of that extremely low-population species. I quickly calculated, using the Earth of the twentieth century as a model, that losing one frigate would be equivalent for the chameleons to the earthlings losing four million soldiers. Just one frigate, but the relative losses would be larger than those of Poland, France, the USA, the UK, Romania, Yugoslavia,
Italy and Hungary put together over the whole course of World War II! So, I guess I'd have to keep the chameleon ships safe...

  "My Prince, how glad I am to see you once again on board my shuttle!" cried Patrick toyl Sven, greeting me. "For two days all the news channels were only talking about you and the chameleon, slandering you with all their might. You probably can't wait to get off this hell-hole, right?"

  "That is correct," I agreed, taking a seat in the chair and buckling right in. "Visiting the Throne World has left me with quite negative emotions and memories. I was expecting to be able to look over all the beautiful palaces unhurriedly, make appearances at fancy dinners with the upper nobility, and hold a bunch of negotiations... But instead of that, I spent the whole time either rushing, washing myself clean of false accusations, or sitting in a prison cell. Let's get off this inhospitable planet as quickly as possible!"

  The shuttle lifted itself up off the surface gradually and evenly, after which it carefully began rising up through the atmosphere. I risked repeating the earlier bout of sea-sickness, but this flight passed exceptionally smoothly, so I didn't even need the paper sacks.

  My arrival to Queen of Sin was met with enthusiastic screams. Members of my team greeted and congratulated me in every hallway. The staff officers were all standing at attention and giving military salutes as I walked by.

  "Shall we return to Tesse?" offered Captain Oorast Pohl, as soon as the ovations had slightly quieted down.

  "Yes, but on the way we will stop in the Nessi system. It is on our way, after all. The Orange House Space Military Academy is having its graduation ceremony there, and it would be nice to be able to take a look. Beyond that, a transport with ships and two chameleon frigates will be flying with us."

  "I suppose you mean the two frigates that have been cutting circles around our yacht for the last three hours," chuckled Admiral Kiro Sabuto. "Those two museum pieces? I'm familiar with the story."

  I asked him to tell it, as I was very interested in hearing the Orange House version. With great displeasure, the admiral began:

  "The chameleons' system was discovered relatively recently, just eighty years ago. A scout ship reached the star system after a few years flight and immediately noted a small planet that was as radioactive as a nuclear reactor with its protective housing removed. A huge deposit of actinides and platinoids were detected there, whole mountains of tantalum strata and other rarities, so a warp beacon would have been placed in any case. In addition, a native civilization was discovered with a fairly high, if pre-space level of development.”

  Popori de Cacha was standing behind me. Due to the damage to his skin, he had temporarily lost the ability to camouflage himself. He added his comments to the admiral's story:

  "Actually, our nation had already begun its first flights into orbit. The first artificial satellites had already been launched by the time the huge starship came to the Sss system.”

  The admiral nodded, not about to argue over such a minor point. He continued:

  "After the story with the Iseyeks, which ended badly, people behaved as properly as possible with this newly discovered race. We installed a warp beacon and began trading with the chameleons, exchanging various vehicles and products for valuable ore. Almost immediately, our traders noticed that the chameleons wouldn't buy the same type of technology more than once; they would buy just one specimen, figure it out and then rivet up their own the exact same. We tried explaining to them that that isn't how it's done – you need to pay for patents, for licenses, for technology at the end of the day, but we could not find common ground on this issue. Apparently, in the culture and manner of thinking of the chameleons, there simply wasn't such a concept as a patent or invention..."

  That time, Popori de Cacha nodded, in imitation of the admiral. No comments from his side followed, so Kiro Sabuto continued:

  "For some time, we turned a blind eye to their theft of technology or at most tried to fine them, but the chameleons didn't pay even one fine for violating patents, so it still did no good. But one day they began reproducing technology on a very high level. At the station by the warp beacon, the chameleons collected two copies of Tusk frigates, one of which they got practically at cost. Of course, Tusk frigates are very antiquated, but in any case they are military starships, capable of navigating the warp beacon system to reach any part of the known Universe! There's a ton of technologies, patents, and active exclusive licenses from various corporations that the chameleons made theirs for free just like that! A trial was held that reached the verdict that the Chameleon race should pay a hefty fine for damages. All Chameleon accounts were frozen until the debts were paid, Orange House trade with them stopped, and attempts by the chameleons to trade ore in circumvention of the Orange House were intercepted. The ships were confiscated together with their cargo, no questions asked. And here we are now with the situation fossilized. The interest and penalties over these years have run up so high that we could practically take the whole planet but, as before, the Chameleons do not recognize the debt's existence on principle."

  Popori de Cacha shuddered and, looking at the admiral with both eyes, asked:

  "For what do the greedy human corporations want to force the Ravaash nation to pay? For the fact that our mechanics were smart and understood how this or that mechanism worked? Or for the fact that our scientists made the right choice and learned something? That is, would a stupid race have been able to make use of it without paying? Then those are bad, incorrect laws, as they promote stupidity. They contradict common sense."

  * * *

  How nice it was to finally return home! I spread my arms and crashed down back-first on the soft bed in the second, small bedroom. I usually preferred the large bedroom, but today I decided to mix it up and visit the usually unused cabins on the huge yacht. I took a look around. It turns out this room is pretty swanky too! Rosewood furniture, some stone flowers or corals, a picture of God-knows-what on the wall, and a statue of a girl, which, on the opposite end of the spectrum, was quite unambiguous and erotic.

  "My Prince, will you allow me to enter?" The old doctor, Nicosid Brandt shyly peeked in through the doors, not wanting to spoil my rest after exercise in the pool.

  "Come in, of course! Unscheduled medical examination, is it?" I laughed.

  "You could say so, my Prince. I have spent several days in contemplation and experiments, creating a rehabilitation plan to get you off crystals for good. And I wanted to familiarize your Highness with my conclusions."

  The wizened doctor sat down carefully on the edge of the bed and showed me a screen with a bunch of graphs. Not standing up, I asked the doctor:

  "Could you tell me what it says, in brief? It's just that I spent the last two days staring at a screen and I'm not in the mood to take in any complex information right now."

  "If you want it in brief, chemical traces of crystals remain in the body for a very long time, around three years. The blood vessels, the liver and the brain must all be cleansed. I have developed an intensive purge program: physical exercise, vitamin mixes, pills. In order to avoid having to use a needle regularly, I recommend that you inject these nanobots, which will cut the attacks off at the beginning by injecting the chemicals you need into the blood. Two capsules two millimeters long in each shoulder, and you can forget about withdrawal for half a year before having to change them out again."

  "Sounds good!" I filled with joy. "When can you make these capsules?"

  "My Prince, they are ready now. I just wanted to get your permission and warn you about the side effects. There's one important thing: if a person has these capsules implanted in their body, taking crystals will lead to two mutually exclusive processes beginning in the body, which can end in a fatal conclusion."

  "That is serious..." I agreed. "But my decision is firm, so let's do it. Implant your nanobot capsules!"

  The doctor opened a plain case and laid his implements out on a tray. He rolled up my sleeves above the elbow and got a blue, flat f
lashlight and shined it from my hand to my shoulder.

  "You've got deep veins, your Highness, it's always a challenge to find them. Oof, they really beat up your arm, it's all bruised... Wait up, what's that?"

  The doctor picked up a pair of glasses with customizable spinning lenses and spent a long time looking over my needle-wracked arm.

  "My Prince, three microcapsules have been implanted in your right arm. They weren't there before..."

  "It was that doctor in the prison hospital," I said, instantly figuring it out. "I thought he was just inexperienced, given how long he dug around in there, but it turns out he was implanting spying devices while treating me! Remove them immediately!"

  Nicosid Brandt put on a mask, injected me with painkillers and reached for the scalpel. In a few minutes, on the tray before me, there were three tiny metal balls rolling around, each half the size of a matchstick.

  "Done, my Prince. But capsules like that can still present a threat even outside the body.”

  "Popori de Cacha, crush all three capsules in a vice and throw the remains in the trash incinerator!"

  When the doctor and leader of the team of chameleons had left the room, I poured myself a splash of hard liquor from a bottle I found behind the bar and lost myself in thought. Who needed to attach a leash to me in the form of unnoticeable implanted capsules? The Emperor? That was hardly believable. Such a powerful figure wouldn't have to act in secret. But then who? Whose toes have I stepped on, or who have I frightened with my independent behavior?

  An alert signal interrupted my thinking. The communications officer said:

  "Incoming video call from the Kingdom of Fastel, Princess Marta royl Valesy. Will you accept?"

  I thoughtfully swished the snifter of strong brandy in my hand. I had absolutely no desire to talk to Marta now and hear another stream of abuse and accusations.

  "Tell my wife that I'm busy. Say that I'm on a mission from the head of the Orange House to meet Princess Astra royl Kant ton Veyerde. If Marta really needs me, she can call back in a half hour."