Rhythm of the Imperium - eARC

by Jody Lynn Nye

  “You are interested in our tablets and pocket secretaries,” she said, offering the glass slab again. Phutes showed assent. He slid it toward him and regarded it with approval. The conductive qualities allowed him to manipulate the image without possessing fingers.

  “They are like us, proper mineral beings. Like 111.”

  “Like seven? Oh, you mean your translator. Yes. She is a good employee. We appreciate her service. Please, let us continue our discussion. Tell me about your family. Have you parents?”

  “Yesa is my only parent,” Phutes said. “I speak for her.”

  “Your motherworld, yes.” Melarides looked pleased. “Well, when we form a relationship with our neighbors, we offer what we have and hope to find a medium of exchange suitable to both parties. We have many exports that might interest you, that are made of good minerals. You show approval for the gold dust. We have others that we hope will be acceptable to you as well. Refineries in our space find these ores purify them until we have blocks of single minerals. Some of those have provided your meals during your travel here. We were glad to provide them. We hope you found them to your liking.”

  “Adequate,” Phutes said. “Lacking complex flavor, but adequate. My siblings agree.” Sofus and Mrdus honked their assent. Melarides looked discomfited.

  “Is that so? We wanted to present you with purified minerals without any taint of organic compounds.”

  “We prefer to absorb combinations,” Phutes said. “Our bodies need certain minerals to maintain health.”

  “As do ours,” the envoy said.

  “We don’t care about that,” Phutes said. Melarides did not bore him further with facts about humans.

  “We know so little about your physiology, Phutes. We wish we knew more. If you would tell our chefs what comestible minerals you prefer, we would be happy to make those combinations available. We only wanted to show you what we were capable of doing with minerals, how we respect every rock and stone that is in your systems, throughout all of Kail space.”

  “That is good,” Phutes said. He found it difficult to relax in the presence of so much slime, so many bodies, in such a small space. They encroached upon him. He kept Yesa’s words in mind. It sounded as though they had taken to their squishy souls the terms that she hoped they would. “We want you to respect our worlds. They are sovereign entities. You must embrace their integrity.”

  “We do!” Melarides said, soothingly. “We do not want to do anything on your worlds that you don’t want us to.”

  “Good. We are agreed on that.” Phutes did find himself relaxing. This diplomacy was not so difficult after all. Yesa would be pleased with him.

  Melarides put her squashy hands together and pushed her face in his direction. Phutes could not help himself flinching away.

  “Excellent! With that agreement in mind, Phutes, I wanted to broach the subject, one that is very dear to our Emperor’s heart. In fact, it is a matter that is of deep interest to many concerns in the Imperium.”

  Phutes felt so confident that Yesa would get her wish of solitude that he was willing to listen to almost any nonsense that the humans cared to spout.

  “What is it?”

  The fleshy mouth opened, revealing the wet and soggy red protuberance that so horrified him. It waggled and emitted noises. The translator beside him took her hums and squeaks and rendered them into words.

  “We would like to come to some kind of agreement with you to exploit mineral rights in Kail space.”

  Phutes tried to make the words translate into some kind of comprehensible combination, but he couldn’t. He turned to NR-111.

  “What does that mean?” he asked. Melarides seemed puzzled, until the translator asked for clarification.

  The lines across the top of her face moved upward.

  “It means that the Imperium would like to mine on your worlds, Phutes.” She pulled another one of the glass slabs toward her and caused a three-dimensional image to rise before her, a starscape of familiar orbs. Several of them lit up with bright white outlines. “We have identified numerous bodies within Kail space that are rich in rare earths, ores that appear in too few places in Imperium territory. We want to extract those deposits from the rock in which they are buried and make use of them in industry, medicine, advances in science. In exchange, we would be willing to offer you technology that would make your lives much more comfortable. You could be connected to our Infogrid and have access to the communication systems of our entire section of the galaxy. For example, we have numerous offerings of artistic programming, such as music and dance . . . . What’s the matter, Phutes?”

  Phutes had stopped listening at the words “extract those deposits.” He stared at Melarides.

  “You want to do what?” he demanded. “How?”

  “Mining,” the envoy said, making that strange mouth gesture again. “It would involve the removal, crushing and processing of ores from bodies we have identified in Kail space. Most of them are asteroids and planetoids. Those are rich in the kind of rare earths that we need, Phutes. Spectroanalysis also shows us seams on the motherworlds that would be of immense value to both our peoples. I hope you will convey to Yesa and the other leaders of your kind how important this is to us . . .”

  Phutes exploded out of his seat.

  “Exploitation? What you are talking about is murder!”

  Melarides looked confused. Phutes made for the exit, honking for his siblings. The others rose.

  “Sofus! Summon Fovrates! These humans are more dire than we ever guessed! I must speak with the Zang now.”

  The human and her associates leaped from their chairs and followed him.

  “Please, NR-111, stop him! Don’t let him leave. What have I said?”

  Loud noises erupted from outside the room. Phutes was afraid that all of the humans were standing out there, ready to attack him, but he didn’t care. The vessel under his feet began to rock crazily. He clawed his way toward the door. Sofus galloped forward, Mrdus clinging to him, and went to Phutes’s aid. He hammered at the door.

  The slim translatorbot put on a burst of speed and arrived at Phutes’s side before he reached the exit. The human diplomats caught up and surrounded him in a ring of jelly-like flesh and the smell of effluvia. The servicebot flashed several lights, drawing his attention to her.

  “Please explain, Phutes,” she said. “The envoy doesn’t mean to offend you. She doesn’t understand. Neither do I. Please explain. Why is it murder? What will mining of asteroids kill?”

  Phutes glared at the translator.

  “They are not asteroids, they are my cousins!” he said. Acid roiled in his system, threatening to eat deeper grooves into his flesh than ever.

  “How can they be your cousins?” NR-111 said, in a gentle tone. “Do you assign names to these planetoids? Is it a matter of religious significance? The envoy will understand if this is the case. The Imperium has made exceptions over the millennia for territory that has sacred meaning to various sects.”

  Phutes grabbed for the stalk supporting the optical receptor array.

  “What is sacred? That has no meaning! The bodies in Kail space are not objects, they are Kail!”

  NR-111 emitted a long stream of gibberish words in human tongue from its secondary audio. The envoy stopped short.

  “They are Kail? Do they live in those bodies?” she asked.

  “They live. Those are their bodies. They are more mature than Kail my size. One day I will be one like they are. If these terrible humans do not mine me for ore!”

  “This is remarkable,” NR-111 said. Phutes could tell that it had translated its words to the humans, because they stopped shouting at him and withdrew, surprised looks on their horrible faces. “I have never heard of such a thing before. Nor have my colleagues. Does that mean the term ‘motherworld’ is literal? Yesa is your progenitor? You were born of her soil?”

  “Of course that is what it means! How else do you reproduce?” Phutes asked, outraged. He threw a
fist in the envoy’s direction. “These monsters want to kill my mother? That is what those thieves were doing, trying to take stone from her breast? You soil our mother-worlds. You are slime.”

  Melarides made squeaking and burbling noises, but the lines on her forehead had drawn down near the central protuberance.

  “I assure you, Phutes, that the envoy had no idea that this was the case,” NR-111 said. “We did not understand. Please, come and sit down again. Let us continue with the discussion. Isn’t there room for negotiation? Surely there are bodies in Kail space that are not living beings. Please. Come back with me. Let’s talk.”

  It rolled a meter or so toward the table, and beckoned. Phutes was tempted. The mechanical being had been honest with him so far. But the humans surrounding him looked avid, as though they wanted to absorb his body then and there, processing it into devices and purified powder. Who knew that they had such dire intents? Yesa would be horrified to discover that they were so evil.

  “No,” he boomed. His voice echoed off the walls of the chamber. “This discussion is ended. No human or other slime is permitted to enter our territory. You will never land on our worlds ever again! Sofus! Mrdus! With me! Open the door!”

  He stormed out of the room.

  A flash of brilliant white light flooded the dome from above. The chamber continued to shake and roll, but Phutes braced his three legs and stalked toward the center wall of the platform.

  “We must get to the Zang!” he shouted over the wild cheering and loud music. “Plan 10 will be put into operation! Are we certain as to the location?”

  “Yes,” Mrdus said. “Fovrates confirmed it.”

  “Then let the humans suffer as they wanted us to suffer!”

  CHAPTER 39

  Outside of the orbit of the single large moon, Gaia-the-ship dropped velocity like a tree shedding ripe fruit, and floated weightlessly and stately toward the snaking continental mass.

  Alarms—I was beginning to learn to expect them—sounded loudly. In the screentank, a hexagonal grid of hot red lines sprang up, overlaying the planet. I had seen the same kind of defense system around Keinolt and others of the Core Worlds. It was good to know that such protection was afforded to Earth. As we passed closer, the visuals filled with codes and symbols. Uncle Laurence spoke a series of what sounded like nonsense words but must have been keys that persuaded the hidden armaments to let us through unscathed.

  We descended gently through the brilliant blue skies toward the left edge of the northern reaches of the ribbon continent. Gaia set down in mountainous terrain within the long spine that streaked down that outer edge. I had time to spot a tidy little city before it disappeared behind forests and snowy peaks. The ship settled down in the precise center of a landing pad and promptly sank into neon-studded darkness.

  “What is that city? Who lives there?”

  “No one,” Uncle Laurence said. Gaia heaved a number of sighs, as if relieved to have arrived, though her gravity generator kept humming. Lights filled the cavern we were in, and the hatch lowered. Our couches lowered to the floor. “Thank you, Gaia! Wonderful trip!”

  “Thank you, Lord Laurence,” the pleasant female voice said. “Welcome home.”

  He smiled and patted the arm of the chair. “Glad to be back.”

  I could not help but be wide-eyed as my uncle led me out through a tile-lined tunnel and up through a pair of heavy bronze doors. Gravity was heavier than it had been on the platform or in Gaia, but I became accustomed to it within a dozen or so meters.

  The portals slid back as we approached, and I followed my uncle up into the light, and we stepped through onto crumbling dark soil.

  I was, to my everlasting astonishment, on Earth.

  Sunlight caressed my face like a pair of gentle hands. The sky was a different blue than Keinolt’s. I missed that faint hint of green in the atmosphere. Huge piles of white clouds scudded across the evening sky as though they had an appointment somewhere to my distant right. I fetched a deep breath of air. It was sweet and touched with rich moisture that was rare on our homeworld—I corrected myself hastily—on the world where I grew up because its climate tended to be arid. I smelled fresh, rich soil, the spice of evergreens, and the sweetness of flowers.

  “Good, eh?” Uncle Laurence asked. He had been watching me closely since we had debarked.

  “Delicious,” I said. I looked around. It was indeed spring. Nearly all the plants nearby were studded with blossoms. Clusters of low wood irises lay tucked among knobby roots. I followed the line of the trees nearest me, and realized how very tall they were. At first, they made me think of the forest at the Whispering Ravines, then I realized those were sad, pale imitations of the Real Thing. The trees around me were darker and redder in color, lofty enough to scratch the perfect sky. Some of them, including a massive specimen immediately outside the door of the tunnel, were as large around as a building.

  “Let’s get you a real shower and a change of clothes,” Uncle Laurence said. “Then I’ll take you on a tour. Will that suit you?”

  I nodded. Words seemed to have failed me utterly. I trailed along in his footsteps, or as closely as I could, considering that I was swiveling my head around like a gyroscope, trying to see everything at once. My foot caught, and I went sprawling headlong. Uncle Laurence came to hoist me to my feet, but not before I had caught sight of another pair of eyes, in a budding bush that huddled very low to the ground.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Where?”

  I pointed. My uncle strode over and plunged his arm deep into the brush. It emerged with a mass of thick, dark gray and brown fur. The animal, about a quarter the size of my torso, struggled in his grip. It acted as though it was more inconvenienced than frightened.

  “You mean this?” Uncle Laurence held the creature to his shoulder. It huddled against him and stared at me. Its face was masked, as if going to a costume party, and its lushly furred tail was decorated in a series of rings. “This is a raccoon. This one’s name is Elena. She’s the grandmother of my own family group. Here, you can hold her. She is a snuggler.”

  He thrust her into my arms. Elena grappled onto me with tiny sharp claws and began to examine my hair and clothing.

  “Let me give you a piece of advice before we go inside,” Uncle Laurence said. “Never do anything in front of her or any of the other raccoons that you don’t want them to duplicate. They are phenomenally intelligent and curious. They are the next masters of this planet.”

  “So,” I said, holding his pet as we traversed a narrow but well-worn path through the immense forest, “you do live here all alone?”

  “Not at all. I have billions of micronbots at my beck and call, and all the animals native to this planet.” He smiled, a trifle wryly. “Since no one ever came back, there are no alien species mixed in. Apart from a few meteor-strewn microbes, that is.”

  “The animals survived the Great Abandonment?” I asked, fighting against the memories of legends that I had read since my childhood.

  “Survived?” my uncle echoed. “The animals left behind have prospered, all the more so because humankind left. Without us here to cull some to extinction or overbreed others beyond reason, nature has taken over and set things into the proportion that it would have had without our rise. You’ll see in a while, but I need to check in before we indulge in a flyover.”

  The departure of humanity from Earth had over ten thousand years achieved the status of legends, not all of which agreed with one another. They all had at their heart an onrushing disaster that threatened to destroy all of life on this planet. Some of the stories said it was a plague, some said a flood, others a massive volcano that would poison the atmosphere and kill every living thing, still other tales described an extraterrestrial menace, a comet or asteroid large enough to rip the atmosphere away. In all of them, the heroes of the story, including some of my ancestors, mustered all of Earth’s resources to build ships that would take all the billions of humans to new w
orlds. What records survived disagreed with one another, including as to who was responsible for rescuing the population and where it went immediately after leaving. They did all agree that no one ever tried to come back, believing that there was nothing to which to return. And, if my uncle was to be believed, and I had no reason to doubt anything he said, ever again, the trail was deliberately muddied. I knew of at least six “true Earths,” including Counterweight, who claimed to be humankind’s birthplace. None of them was this lovely sphere.

  That was why the ground felt so right under my feet. So many planets on which humanity had set its stamp over the last ten millennia dragged us down or did not anchor us sufficiently with its gravity. The air nourished my lungs, without attempting to introduce any unwelcome chemical compounds. I fancied the water, which I could see twinkling in the sunshine in the far distance between the immense tree boles, would taste sweet on my tongue.

  I was so full of joy, I broke into a grand and sweeping waltz, with Elena as my partner. As I glided into a clearing in my uncle’s wake, I found myself facing an audience consisting of more raccoons, a doe and her small spotted fawn, and several squirrels.

  “And who are these?” I asked. Laurence chuckled.

  “Elena’s family. You can put her down, now. She’ll want to tell them all about you.” I bent to release the raccoon. She kicked away from me as though launching herself and waddled into the midst of the crowd of masked creatures. They surrounded her, sniffing and gabbling. The deer regarded us as shyly as I did them. “Come in.”

  He gestured toward a door. I almost had to blink. The dark red-brown house to which it was attached blended so well into the undergrowth that it was almost invisible. I followed him into a cozy domicile that I would not have been ashamed to own. A complex console with a number of screens and scopes was set into a nook in between a huge stone fireplace with an entire log for a mantel and a multi-paned glass window with black-and-white-checked woolen curtains.