by Mark Zubro
Joe tightened his embrace and replied. “I love you.”
And they held each other as the universe of troubles gathered around them.
At last Mike muttered, “What will happen to us?”
“Despite all the technical violations, mostly we’re in the middle of a political fight. It isn’t about us as much as it is about control of the political system.”
“I thought you have one monolithic government with a few sky pirates.”
“It is. And it isn’t.” He pointed at Kenton and Kas. “Those two can explain things better than I can.”
“I don’t know if I want to talk to any more people on this planet right now.”
“You don’t have to.”
“For how advanced you should be and how you claim you don’t do violence, you guys sure seem to be awfully violent and ready to fight.”
“Peace is a relative term. We no longer have wars in which billions are killed.”
“Billions?”
“The last interplanetary war over ten thousand years ago cost three billion lives. We are civilized. We’re just not perfect. Who is?” Mike touched the shoulders, back, and butt of his alien lover. They kissed passionately and didn’t care who gaped or glared. Mike could feel that Joe’s arousal against his pelvis matched his own.
When they pulled away, Joe smiled, “No, we can’t possibly do a mad, heroic escape.”
“If you don’t have implants anymore how do you know what I’m thinking?”
“How many James Bond movies have I sat through with you?” Joe asked.
“All of them.” Mike loved action adventure movies. The more implausible the ending, the more he enjoyed them.
Joe said, “They end with the hero winning great battles against entire armies usually by himself, occasionally with the help of a lovely heroine or a special bomb or two. My dearest love, there is not the remotest possibility of that happening here.”
“No?”
“No. We are in the middle of a civilian enclave that can be sealed against any possible escape by us. This is the criminal courts section of the planet, and no matter how much power you have, it ain’t gonna do us a hell of a lot of good.”
“No?”
“No.”
“What the hell are we going to do?”
“We’re going to take the decision of the court and deal with it the best we can. I have no powers of magic here. All the powers are arrayed against us.”
“Let’s see what our keepers have to say.” They returned to Kas and Kenton. Mike said, “I’m not sure I understand Bex. What’s his story?”
Kas said, “Bex is one of the richest men in our series of star systems. He is also in charge of security for the central government. He has the usual private army that comes with having so much wealth. He is also in charge of what is in essence another army from the central government.”
“Hell of a lot of power,” Mike said.
There were benches made of concrete at intervals with scenes of nature carved in stone set around them. They sat under a red tree with vaguely triangular, orange leaves. He and Joe sat with their fingers entwined, shoulders, torsos, thighs, and knees touching.
Kenton held out a hand to each of them. “Are you both all right?”
Joe shrugged. “I’m alive.”
Mike said, “I’m not as good as I was before I got captured and dragged halfway across the galaxy.”
Kas said, “More like a third of the way.”
Joe asked, “What is going to happen to us?”
Kas shook his head. “Bex is a powerful enemy. As much as I enjoyed it when you zapped him, if you hadn’t before, at that moment you made an enemy, a powerful and permanent enemy. That may cause you no end of trouble.”
“He tried to kill me once before.”
“And you stopped him, as you are not supposed to be able to do. You challenged the ultimate power of the military when you defeated him, twice now. He cannot allow that to happen or go unchallenged.”
“What kind of macho crap is that?” Mike asked.
“Bruised egos are a universal phenomenon,” Kas said.
“What’s all this faction shit?” Mike asked.
“Ah,” Kas answered. “Our glorious political system. We are governed individually by contracts, by agreements between individuals, small and large groups, businesses, and ultimately the state. All of these contracts are enforced by more laws. In our attempt to keep the government out of our lives, we have created a government that has become our lives. We are free to go wherever we want and do whatever we want, except when we get there we must, of course, deal with the reality of that which is there. If you happen to find your own uninhabited planet which is viable, and no one else is there, and if you have the funds to make your own spaceship to get there, and you are willing to defend it against all comers, you can be happy doing whatever you want. Ultimate freedom is an illusion. At some point when you must deal with at least one being, then some form of formal contract is required.” He pointed at Mike. “You, my friend, are the fly in this batch of ointment. You upset the balance of that which is. The power and knowledge you have makes us all very nervous.”
“I still don’t get the need to fight,” Mike said.
“Fear,” Kas replied. “There’s no other way to put it. If the central government was monolithic, an absolute monarchy or a totalitarian dictatorship, then it might be possible to take your knowledge from you freely. I don’t know how to break the connection between your implants and your communicator and your physical brain. The merging of neurons in the human brain to our technology is contrary to the law and has resulted in your powers defeating us, so far.”
Joe said, “Don’t the different factions have their own scientists?”
“Yes, but the richest can afford to pay the most, and they control the government, but you’re missing the main point.”
“What’s that?” Mike asked.
“Bex alluded to it.” He pointed at Joe and Mike. “Vov was supposedly all powerful, brilliant, years beyond all of us.” He paused and looked from one to the other of them. “But you guys beat him.”
Joe said, “I had power and a thunderstorm.”
Mike said, “I never thought I’d wish I was more in Kansas. Where’s a good tornado when you need one?” The aliens gaped at him. Mike shrugged, “This is more not in Kansas than I ever expected to be.”
Kas shook his head, “I don’t understand your references. The key is, you beat him. Whichever faction is or was behind him, however you did it, you did the unthinkable. You beat him. Whatever physical power you do have is enhanced by our fear of whatever power you might have. The unknown can be more frightening than the known.”
Mike said, “I don’t feel all-powerful. Or is this how being all-powerful feels, kinda lost and confused? Not quite sure I’ve worked out this all-powerful shit. Not sure I want to.” He fell silent.
“Why wasn’t Vov guarded better?” Joe asked.
Kas frowned. “He must have had help escaping. There is no other explanation, and his ability to escape makes it more difficult for you. There are factions who would like to have your knowledge and your power, which means they want you.”
Mike said, “I’m not safe from those who want to protect me nor from those who might want to kill me.”
“You should not trust any of us, including me. I am a scientist. I want your knowledge. I want to find out how to get it and use it, develop it.”
Mike interjected. “Make a profit from it.”
Kas nodded. “To be honest, yes. To do any of that I have to get into your head. Even if you were willing, I don’t think you have the technical knowledge or the ability to articulate what you know.”
“I’m a dope?”
Kas said, “You are different. There are many of us who do not wish you ill.”
They saw Qan approaching. When he arrived, he spoke in a soft voice. “You are requested to return.” The four of them stood up and followed
Qan back to the hearing room.
Only Mulk and the guards in red remained. The five of them sat opposite him. Mulk held up a hand as if issuing a decree. “It is decided that the entire Senate will meet to decide your fate. You will be allowed to be there. You will be surrounded by oxygen deprivation fields at all time, and by other things that I will not tell you about.” Mulk stood. “The debate one week hence will decide your fate.” He swept from the room. Kas followed him. The guards remained.
“Is this good or bad?” Mike asked Kenton.
“I don’t know. I’m out of my depth.”
“Is Joe to stay with me?”
“I’ve had no orders about anything. I don’t even know where you’re supposed to go next.”
The answer to that came from a tall guard. He approached warily. He held out a disc to Kenton who took it and tapped on the face of it. After a few moments he said, “These are your orders. You are not to be allowed to stay together. You will be allowed to sit together at the Senate debate. You are each to be returned to your original prisons. I’m sorry you cannot be together. This says these guards are allowed to use any means possible except death to force you to obey.”
“They could harm us pretty severely,” Mike said.
“Yes,” Kenton agreed.
Mike hugged, held, and kissed Joe. Their embrace continued for some minutes. Despite the circumstances Mike found himself becoming erect and beginning to breathe hard. Joe whispered in his ear. “I hope we get a chance to do this a great deal more, but I don’t really think I want to do a great deal more at this moment.”
Mike let the embrace linger. He knew they had to go, and he was not about to get naked or have an orgasm in front of a herd of strangers on an alien planet.
Joe was led away first. Mike was taken out the opposite way. In a short while he was back on his mountain top.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Mike spent an anxiety-filled but boring week on top of his mountain. He realized this was what soldiers who were waiting for the order to charge into battle must feel, rushes of adrenalin but with nothing much to do but wait. His nausea returned each morning, some days worse than others. Most days it was gone after about fifteen minutes. He doubted he was pregnant. Unless the gestation of infants lasted more than four years, he figured Joe had not made him pregnant, and Joe had assured him that was biologically impossible.
As before, Mike had nothing to read. He seldom watched a lot of television, but he’d have been glad for the most clichéd Fifties sitcom rerun. Jack had been teaching him some computer games, and although Mike hated them, he’d have been grateful to fail at any of them right now. He’d have given a great deal to be at peace with Joe on Earth.
What he got was Kenton and lessons about the nuances of Hrrrm politics. The day before the meeting of the Senate he asked, “What’s going to happen tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure anyone does. I presume all the different factions have been forming alliances and making deals. I am not privy to any of the deliberations. I will be there. I do wish you well. At the same time, I want my planet, my home system, and our star system to be safe.”
“Do you really think I’m a threat?”
“I think the knowledge you have is a threat, yes. You yourself, I would trust.”
The trip the next morning was the same as the previous one except this time near the end, the gray monotonous tunnels became wide, well lit, with complex intersections - where cars could go forward, turn left, right, or go up and down. Mike found those shafts fascinating. As the tunnel widened, more vehicles surrounded them.
“We aren’t meeting any cross traffic,” Mike said.
“And we won’t. Several routes for your progress were designed. The decision which to take was random.”
“Would I be attacked along the way?”
“All precautions are being taken. These are the precincts of the wealthiest businesses. The very rich, of course, live pretty much where they wish, mostly on luxury planets. The seat of government on Hrrrm, what you would call the legislative branch, is in the heart of the business district.”
Mike pointed to the phalanx of gray vehicles surrounding them. “They must be worried about what I might try.”
“Even if you hadn’t traded physical attacks with Bex, all these would still be here. How volatile you are is uncertain. To be honest, I’m not sure that uncertainty is a bad thing for them to be thinking about you. Your real danger is from a faction attempting something like was done on your journey here. Everybody wants you. It all depends on what they’re willing to do to get you.”
“I feel sort of like a porn star in the only gay bar in northern Alaska on a Saturday night, really popular but really out of place.”
As they exited the ground craft, Kenton said, “I would not want to be in a place where everything I am or anything I would say would make no difference in deciding what will happen to me.”
“Thank you.”
They took an elevator which opened onto a vast arena. Halfway down from the ceiling and continuing to the floor, it was filled with a spiral of cushiony, comfy chairs leading in wide sweeping curves down to the most luxurious seat of all in the center of the room. The chairs were deep red. The ceiling was stark white. The walls contained one continuous mural lit by concealed spotlights. The scenes were complex: people fighting, great star ships attacking planets, and people in vast crowds listening to speakers. Intermixed throughout were domestic scenes. Mike pointed to the mural. “What is that?”
“The most famous piece of art work in our world. It was made thousands of years ago with paints that cannot be harmed or dulled or disturbed. It was designed, drawn, and completed by our most famous artist, Nolic Mev. It is the history of my people. Each one features a famous man or woman who changed the direction of our history significantly. The murals detail their lives, the events leading up to what happened and the aftermath.”
“This room is that old?”
“It is one of the oldest rooms in all our inhabited worlds.”
“Doesn’t look it.”
“Maintenance is a large part of the government’s annual budget.”
Mike thought the immense painting looked like was a Depression-era mural, only with colors clearer and details far more varied and well represented.
Mike said, “Looks like a hell of a lot of blood has been spilled over time. I thought you guys were into cash not corpses.”
“How many wars have you had in the past thousand years?”
“I’m sure it’s more than you.” Mike sighed. “Would you explain the spiral arrangement of chairs?”
“The richest person sits in the middle in the great chair and presides. The others sit in ascending order of wealth from there. You will be looking at the one thousand richest people in our star system. All are permitted here.”
“Do you ever have elections?”
“Heavens, no. Who is richest and the order in which they sit, even who is in the center chair, can change from one day to the next, although you seldom go from first to last all in a day. That hasn’t happened in nearly a century. Old Feq the Unlucky blew his fortune on speculation in Rantaz futures.”
“What are Rantaz futures?”
“A sort of pyramid scheme involving investing in the future of mining development on an interplanetary scale. Some say he was defrauded. Makes no difference. If you aren’t among the richest, out you go.”
“Who keeps track? Could they lie about their wealth?”
“Think of what you call your stock market and multiply it by thousands of years of complexity and sophistication. Records are meticulous. Why would anyone want to lie about how wealthy they are? The richer you are, the greater your power and influence. Besides you have to prove what you have.”
“What’s the penalty for lying?”
“In the most egregious cases, death, although no one has been executed for that in several thousand years.”
The vast arena was about t
wice as big as the United Center back in Chicago where the Bulls and Blackhawks played their home games. Here at least half the space starting from where the basketball court would have been was taken up by the luxurious chairs of the elite. The slope up was gradual to where he was standing now, on a white walkway and gallery which encircled the entire chamber. Small groups of chairs clustered at random points in this gallery. Each chair of the rich sat in a little pool of flatness so that no one was sitting on an angle. The mural was a three-hundred-sixty degree decoration at least twenty feet high. Starting above it and slanting high up to the ceiling was a gallery of what Mike guessed were thousands of seats. All of them were empty. Mike, Kenton, and the guards were the only ones present so far.
