Rhythm of the Imperium - eARC

by Jody Lynn Nye

  “That’s true. It’s been nice to spend time with you.”

  I enfolded her small fingers in mine. “I do not look forward to having our time together ending.”

  “It has to, though,” she said. “Pretty soon, this planetoid will be history, and Proton and I will leave.”

  I felt a deep sadness well up in my soul.

  “I created this for you,” I said. I let go of her hands and backed away from her with mine still outstretched. I flung my right hand up as if holding a small sphere within it. I let the invisible globe float upward, sending my heart up with it. I began a slow, somber waltz as the object went farther and farther until it was no longer in my sight.

  I dropped my eyes to show my sorrow. When I did, Laine was there before me, only inches away. She reached up, took my face between her hands, and kissed me solidly on the lips. I returned the embrace with enthusiasm and joy, feeling as though skyrockets rebounded and exploded inside my chest. Laine wriggled to be let go. I realized I had picked her up off her feet. Very tenderly, I set her down.

  “I’ll see you later,” she said.

  “I . . .” I could hardly find words. “I shall. . . .”

  “Where is the Zang?” a burbling voice boomed.

  My cheerful mood deflated. There could not have been a more inopportune time for the unwelcome Kail to burst forth from the lift. Phutes strode out, each of its three legs thrashing forward as if trying to show dominance over the other two. NR-111 was at its heels, looking as apologetic as was possible for an electronic being.

  “I’m about to go and join Proton,” Laine said to Phutes. “Come with me.”

  “Speed,” Phutes bellowed. “This is important!”

  “It always is,” Laine said. She pointed a finger at the diplomatic aide. “Don’t translate that!”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Dr. Derrida,” NR-111 said, plaintively. “I never try to inflame him.” I noticed then that the rolling base of the translatorbot had yet another massive dent in its side. I raised my eyebrows at her. She activated one of her small screens. In Sang-Li fingerspelling, an image read, “Please don’t say anything.” I nodded.

  Laine let her fingers drift out of mine as she headed toward the lift.

  “Do you want me to come along with you?” I asked, as much for the ‘bot’s sake as Laine’s.

  “No, you don’t have to,” Laine said. “This is what everyone has been waiting for, even them. See you later.”

  “I’ll be counting the moments,” I said. “Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  I returned to the day room, feeling as though the sun had been taken out of my solar system. I retired to my favorite chair next to the porthole and assumed the position of a man in a brown study. Soon, my sister drifted over and propped her hip on the arm of the chair. I moved my elbow to make way for her.

  “She’s very nice,” Nell said.

  “Too nice,” Nalney said, plumping down on the footstool. “Thomas, you know better than to form an alliance with someone not of the Imperium house. She may come to a conclusion to which you have no right to lead her.”

  “I know,” I said. I sighed deeply. “Sometimes it is a great burden being a noble.” I roused myself to take an interest in something else, in order to distract my mind from pursuing Laine down into the depths of the ship. “No word yet from Nole?”

  Nalney shook his head. “Not a peep. I suppose he’s sulking because we didn’t go and beg him to come with us.”

  “But we did!” Erita said. “I did, in any case. When I visited his ship.”

  “Oh, you did not,” Jil said, waving a lazy arm. She lay prone on the rug, digging her toes into its thick pile. “None of us have seen the ship.”

  “I have! I keep telling you. It looked like a mansion, but instead of doors, it has hatches. The windows are viewports. It’s terribly clever. The drives are set into what ought to be the foundation.”

  “I suppose that means the command center is in the attic,” I said, skeptically.

  “Of course not, Thomas!” Erita said, holding her long nose in the air. “It’s in his study. No commander needs to be at the top of the ship any more.”

  I felt my insides burn with jealousy, though I might similarly have bragged about the experience as she was doing. It might be that she was telling the truth, and Nole had told me a fib. Or she had sneaked on board when he was not there. In any case, she knew things none of the rest of us did. I took out my frustrations in a furious dance that expressed all my irritation and envy. To my dismay, Xan and the others loved it.

  “Now, that’s interesting, Thomas!” Xan said, applauding. “Why haven’t you done anything that before? That had real fire in it!”

  “Because . . . well, I wasn’t as frustrated as I am now,” I said. I realized that I had put more passion into that momentary fit of pique than I had nearly any of my other performances. Part of it was over my disappointment in having Laine leave.

  “Do it again later,” Erita urged me. “I missed part of it.”

  “How could I?” I asked. “You’ve viewed Nole’s ship. Isn’t that spectacle enough for you?”

  “Oh, Thomas, don’t be like that,” she said, taking my arm. “He just wants to surprise us. Can I help it if I know his secret?”

  My momentary ill mood fled when I realized I knew one of Nole’s secrets, too, one none of the others did.

  “Very well,” I said, relenting. “I’ll think about it.” Art was a funny thing. I had to work out whether it would serve the purpose of interpretive dance to perform something I no longer felt deeply about. How would it change? Was it still, legitimately, Art?

  “Well, the rest of us won’t see the ship until we get home,” Rillion said. “Never mind! We’re here! And Nole isn’t.”

  CHAPTER 32

  “Hurry!” Phutes enjoined the human female. They were so slow with their two legs!

  “There’s no hurry,” the female said. Her shrill voice nearly reached the pitch for normal communication, but her words were still gibberish. If not for the servicebot, she would be incomprehensible. “Proton’s still on this ship. You don’t have to worry.”

  “I am not worried. I need to know why Fovrates ceased transmitting! No information has come since we were cut off.”

  “Perhaps the ship was destroyed,” Mrdus said, fearfully. “What if we are the only ones left?”

  “Then we go on with Yesa’s mission,” Sofus said. “We hope that all the other parts of our plan are still in place. If not, then we three shall continue until we are destroyed.”

  “What if the coordinates that Fovrates gave us are incomplete?” the small one asked, his voice achieving nearly painful tones.

  “We shall have to assume they are,” Phutes said. “Enough! I don’t want to argue in front of the Zang.”

  Proton awaited them all near the main airlock. The sensations it gave off were different than any time since Phutes had first seen it. He felt palpable excitement and impatience. Its body glowed with increased energy, making it hard even for their ocular receptors to bear.

  The human female ran to the Zang, and began to squeak at it.

  “What is she saying?” Phutes demanded.

  “She is begging it to wait,” NR-111 said.

  “Why?”

  “Because she has a few possessions she wants to take with her,” the translator said.

  “Those are of no importance!”

  The translator said nothing. The small human swept out of the room. Phutes fumed, but there was nothing he could do to hurry her.

  “Tell it the coordinates,” Sofus urged.

  In the shrill tones that had achieved interest before, Mrdus began to reel off the binary codes.

  “. . . 00001101010001111101010 . . .”

  The sequence was a long one. Phutes waited to see if Proton would show that it was listening, but it did not reach out to touch them as it had before. The high level of energy kept rising. At last, Mrdus completed
the sequence. Phutes waited. The Zang did not respond. He walked around to peer at its eyes. They seemed to look through him, not at him. How frustrating!

  “Tell it again,” Phutes said to Mrdus. “This time, include the movements!”

  “Phutes!” the smaller sibling wailed. Phutes remained obdurate. “Very well. 110000111000 . . .”

  After nearly 1110 fragments of time, the female emerged from the lift with an armful of soft things that undulated like a collapsing dune. The sight made Phutes feel sick.

  She watched Mrdus for a moment.

  “What’s he doing?” she asked NR-111.

  “Don’t tell her!” Phutes commanded.

  “As you please, Phutes,” the servicebot said. She let out some shrieks and gurgles that appeared to satisfy the human.

  The female swung an expanse of carbon-based fiber out and around so that its hem nearly touched Phutes. He dodged out of the way as she tied it around her shoulders. She swung a pack onto her back and went to stand beside the Zang. Proton moved forward, toward the side of the ship.

  “Come on,” she said to the Kail. “You can come with us.”

  “Where?” Phutes asked, stumbling in their wake. In the middle of the word, “how?” the ship vanished around them.

  A deep chill enveloped Phutes. For a terrible moment he could not see or move. He feared that death was claiming him. It was too soon! He had not yet succeeded in his mission for Yesa!

  But in the next moment, he was walking again, but now in the middle of a brightly lit round chamber. His limbs felt half-frozen in air that felt superheated by comparison.

  “We only took one step,” Mrdus said, in excitement, “but we moved far!”

  “Where are we?” Sofus asked, turning his upper body to look around. NR-111 translated.

  “This is the platform,” the female said.

  Phutes looked up. Behind a dome of transparent glass, he saw a canopy of stars. Far away, near the center of the arching glass, burned a red dwarf star. Much closer, a pair of tiny bright arcs reflected the sun’s light on their bodies: the chosen planet and its moon. The platform moved slightly with respect to the sun as it traveled in the same orbit as the planet.

  The feeling of unbound energy echoed loudly here. Phutes felt as though every step he took created reactions that resounded across the universe. It was like being with Yesa again, only much more so. It grew ever more intense, until there was another snap of freezing cold, and the room filled with a brilliant silver glow. Within its depths, shadowy forms glided toward them.

  “Here are the other Zang!” the female said, her voice rising to the highest frequency yet.

  She didn’t seem affected by the cold or the burst of light. Phutes felt almost as though he should prostrate himself on the deck. His ocular receptors slowly accustomed themselves to the brilliance. Four magnificent silver shapes moved toward Proton Zang. The sensation of power whipped through the three Kail like an electrical storm. Mrdus cowered behind the other two, but Phutes moved as near as he dared.

  The new arrivals moved until their auras melded with Proton’s. The platform beneath them seemed to quiver. The Zang turned until their enormous eyes faced one another. For the first time, Phutes saw what it was like when they paid full attention to something. He was grateful then that they had never focused their entire regard on him. He was sure that he would have melted to slag because of the intensity. His joints began to chill into immobility from his proximity to the group, but it was worth the pain. No Kail in memory had ever seen more than one Zang at a time. He couldn’t wait to tell Yesa about it.

  “Let me introduce you,” the human female said. She pointed to each of the Zang in turn. The first was thicker than Proton but not as tall. The second was taller and slimmer. The third tapered more at the top than any of the others, and the natural striations seemed deeper. The last was the shortest, but as thick as the first. “That’s One Zang. It’s the oldest. Then, Charm Zang, Zang Quark and Low Zang. I’ve met most of them before, at other events. These Kail come from Yesa,” she continued, turning to One Zang. “Here are Phutes, Sofus and Mrdus.”

  Phutes moved forward and inclined his upper body. His siblings crowded next to him, offering their courtesies.

  “Great Zang, please hear us!” Phutes said, uttering the words that Yesa had given him to say. He had very little hope that he would be able to make contact with them. Many rotations of effort with Proton had resulted in only one acknowledgement, but he would not return to Yesa without putting forth the effort. “We come to you as supplicants. We would be your humble servants if you will give us your help!”

  Three of the new Zang merely glowed, keeping their attention focused on one another and Proton. The fourth swiveled until its eyes, as large as Phutes’s fists, were facing him. Phutes was so startled that he froze.

  “This one sees us,” Phutes said. NR-111 translated his words.

  “Yes, I believe it does,” the female said. “Amazing! Low Zang is the newest member of the group. I haven’t met it before. I think as Zang go, it’s fairly young. Of course, that’s a relative term when you’re talking about beings that can live for billions of years . . . .”

  Phutes shut out her babble. It was not important. Only this moment had significance. Would the Zang understand him? Would it help?

  He began to speak to it in the ultra-high frequencies as Yesa had instructed him, but adding in the rhythmic movements that had attracted Proton’s notice. Sofus and Mrdus joined in. raising their voices to the height of the dome. Phutes felt as though he was tunneling through a deep cave-in, making his way toward a source of light. He put every erg of energy he had into his plea.

  To his surprise and delight, it answered back. The reply wasn’t in words, at least as they knew them, but a feeling. A wisp of power touched them, tentatively, curiously.

  I hear. What do you need?

  “Don’t stop now,” Sofus said, dropping his voice to the lower registers. “Don’t stop!”

  “I won’t,” Phutes said. He began to move back and forth, keeping the power in his voice. “Elder race of the galaxy, we poor Kail need your help. We admired what you have done in the past.”

  A wisp of power that was extended pulled back very slightly, an expression that combined confusion and modesty. I have done nothing yet.

  Phutes hastily amended his song. “We admire your choice of this rock as an exhibition of your range and ability. It will be an excellent spectacle.”

  That caused the wisp to return. Phutes could not help but sense that the Zang was flattered by their attention. He continued to praise it, feeling inward triumph. Low Zang might be persuaded to help them! Then he and his siblings were lashed by a huge surge of power that knocked them 110 paces backward. The Kail cowered together, looking for its source. It didn’t seem to have come from Low Zang. In fact, the young Zang, too, appeared to have been moved.

  One Zang sent a powerful wave to regain Low Zang’s attention. The new member turned reluctantly away from the near-ephemerals.

  “We feel that this conference is important,” One said. “Your full participation is required, since you are the leader for this removal.”

  Low Zang sent contrition to the others. “I did not mean to be disrespectful.”

  “Only inattentive,” One said, with affection. “We understand the distractions of new experiences. The short-lived creatures are like novae, short-lived but intense.”

  “They are unimportant,” Quark said, giving off irritation. “Why are you listening to them at all?”

  Low was abashed. “They admire me.”

  “You do not need their admiration,” Quark sent. “They are ephemeral. Lower orders. They like what you have done but have not done yet. There is no logic in that. They will never comprehend more than .0000007% of your ability.”

  “I know, but it is appealing,” Low admitted. “Their song feeds my spirit.”

  Charm intervened, suffusing them all with the musical harmony of which
it was capable. “There is no harm in ephemerals trying to cultivate a relationship with those they perceive as greater than themselves. Let Low amuse himself if it chooses. Proton has its pet. Let Low Zang have its own.”

  Low tried to suppress its eagerness. It still felt the creatures’ neediness. To have something rely upon it, instead of it always being the supplicant, was appealing.

  “If you say that it isn’t wrong to consider, I want to think about it,” Low said. “If it won’t cause disharmony.”

  “Listen to us, great Zang!” the leader said. Low sent the merest whisper of curiosity in their direction. It made the Kail dance with excitement.

  “I don’t like this,” Proton said. “They show desperation. Good art does not come from desperation.”

  “I am not desperate!” Low protested.

  One Zang sent disagreement. “Strong emotion has provoked great works in the past. But do not let this one make you as they are, Low Zang.”

  The young Zang reacted with a burst of power that enveloped them all and made Charm Zang emit a response of pleasure.

  “I won’t,” Low said. “I will make you glad you allowed me to lead this removal.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Charm said, soothingly. “Now, how shall you construct the waves to dissolve this sphere?”

  “I thought a directed pulse outward from a single point on the south pole of the sphere would be effective,” Low said.

  “Interesting choice,” One Zang said. “Show us why.”

  This was the moment to make all of its ideas into reality. Slowly, carefully, Low constructed the concept of the broken sphere in their midst in miniature. The image of the broken-looking rock appeared in their midst, approximately 10-21 of its actual size. Low concentrated upon one point in an arc on a weak place that it had discovered and began to send energy pulses to that point. The pulse began slowly, and escalated swiftly, until all of the Zang felt it, drawing power from every direction, beating every particle in the image of the planetoid from solid to energy, then expelling it in waves. The elders let it pass through them. Low Zang enjoyed the prickle of power, even though it was .0000000013 of what the actual waves would produce.