“Holo-history lies,” Shrub said with a pitying look, “check the real data feeds from the historical records of the other planets in our sector and the timelines don’t match up. Yes, we fled the AI’s, that’s true. But either they came with us like a silent plague or they were already here when our Founder landed on Capria.”
“It’s not true, and even if it was it has nothing to do with our people or my family,” I said angrily. My anger made even more so by that small niggling little doubt that said my own mother was at the very least AI sympathetic, “We didn’t raid anyone and we weren’t even alive at that time. The AI’s are dead—gone and buried—and, praise the space gods, they’ll stay that way.”
“Call on the gods if it makes you feel better,” Shrub said coldly, “but if you think that the Royal Houses of today do not harbor secret AI sympathizers who, at this very moment, seek for ways to bring back the machine plague then you are not just a dangerously mistaken fool—you’re a complete idiot.”
“First, I don’t believe what you’re saying. And second, if what you say was true Parliament would have used it against the royal house long before now and the populace would have risen up. They wouldn’t have just overthrown but utterly annihilated the Monarchy,” I instinctively denied, after all I was a product of my upbringing and hated the AI’s with a passion. Considering what they did to our people during the AI Wars only made such feelings stronger.
That my mother was at least a sympathizer—and my wife possibly so much worse—was a terrible shame to me but, as I’d told myself many times, that was my wife and the maternal side of my family—but at least it had nothing to do with the House Montagne! The very idea that I had been designed, literally created by a thousand years dead AI, was almost inconceivable to me and I instinctively rejected it. I was not machine’s long-forgotten tool!
“Parliament is not so foolish as to give the Confederation cause to sterilize all forms of life, both synthetic and biological, on our world! Every Agent studies the historical documents before he swears his life in service to protect our planet from the wrath your bloodline would bring down on us if the rest of humanity ever learned the truth,” Shrub said flatly.
I stiffened at the thought, because he was right: the Grand Assembly would do it, too. Or at least they would have back before they abandoned the Spine. Now, it was anyone’s guess although personally I leaned toward the sterilization option after thinking about it for a moment.
“The monarchy defends the people; we would never sacrifice them to cold, heartless machine gods,” I finally said, because I felt like I had to defend myself. Besides, I figured my ancestors were too greedy to ever consider sharing that level of power with a machine. It just didn’t feel right. I mean, the idea of being a tool for a vastly more intelligent and cold-thinking mind than my own brought about an instinctive rejection at my most fundamental core. I couldn’t imagine if I was a direct clone of Larry One that he would have felt any different.
“They would if they’d been conditioned since birth. They would if doing so would save massively more human lives than it cost. Honor, duty, privilege… what a crock! Never again will Caprians be led like sheep to the slaughter by men such as your ancestor—men exactly like you. We would rather die first!” he declared.
“Well, I can certainly agree with the general sentiment and that last part in particular,” I said coldly, my mind racing. “It still doesn’t explain how I’m the genetic reincarnation of a man dead for hundreds of years—and who I do not resemble. Some ‘clone’ I am. I mean, have you ever looked at the features of our historic kings—and yes I’m including King Larry in this, because I have.”
“Have you never heard of plastic surgery? Or nano-tech designed to subtly alter a person's face as they grow and age? We know a secret society based off-world must help to keep the bloodline pure, the Three-For-One society, because if they were based off Capria we would have found them and rooted them out entirely by now. But every time we purge them they just keep coming back like cockroaches,” Shrub waved it away. “But all that’s immaterial; for whatever other reason or purpose they exist we don’t know fully. All we know for sure are they’re thick as thieves with House Montagne, and the kings of that bloodline always share the same defining characteristics: they are ruthless, intelligent, highly-motivated, paranoid, borderline unstable, and of typical Caprian build and skin tone but always born with a very flat, Asiatic nose. These are the characteristics of what you people call the One Bloodline.”
“No,” I rejected instantly.
“Try to deny it all you want, but a hidden strain of deep AI sympathizers, apologists, and even direct servants if they’re still alive lies nestled deep inside the royal house of Capria like a tick. You people suck the lifeblood from our home world in order to perpetuate your foul stain and it is our duty—as parliamentary agents, and the true sons of Capria—to root out this corruption before the galaxy at large finds out and enacts the anti-AI sterilization and containment protocols. You ask why I would lie, cheat, steal and shoot a man in the back and call it all a good day’s work? It is for one simple purpose: to protect our people—our world—from men like you!” growled Shrub.
“You have no proof, no evidence whatsoever except your word and actions. Words which are those of a self-professed liar and murderer,” I snarled back, “parliamentarians will do anything and say anything to get ahead, and now you’re trying to demonize the foundation of our entire system of government. And you wonder why no one will follow you? You’ll even degrade the very man who saved our people and founded our world. I would rather die with honor than be like you. If the royal house is corrupted then let’s cleanse it via the rule of law it, not like this. Not with secret agents assassinating people left and right just to get ahead.”
“Larry saved them only so he could turn them over to his machine god! Parliament will never bend knee to the royal house and it will certainly never kneel before the Massively Multi-Parallel Entropic Network,” shouted Shrub. “And it doesn’t matter what an ancient infiltration model like you thinks of our methods. We will save our planet from your kind—even if we have to level the Winter Palace from orbit, just like we had Cornwallis bombard the Summer Palace! If our duty to the populous outweighs any considerations of honor or duty to the rest of humanity, then it certainly outweighs any niceties like honor or laws intended to keep us down. Our planet was founded by still very much active AI stooges and sympathizers who were exactly like you, Jason Montagne, and we will stop you or we will die trying,” Shrub yelled.
“I think we’re done here,” I said standing up, “we’ve gotten everything we can from him.”
“ You don’t turn away when I’m speaking with you, Montagne. I’m not done with you yet!” roared Shrub.
“Oh yes you are,” I said, walking toward the door outwardly cold and furious but inwardly incredibly shaken. He might be wrong, but he certainly believed it. I suppose a genetic test against my ancestors' remains…
I gave myself a quick shake. I had to get out of this room—and Shrub had to die. His lies, if heard by the rest of the crew…I felt a cold shiver.
“All your fake royalist honor and so-called loyalty adds up to nothing? Your oath of loyalty is to the crown, but what if the crown in turn swears service to one of the evil machines minds that were the bane of mankind?” Shrub demanded. “That’s why we won’t stop until Capria’s safe and that can only happen when you’re dead! We’ll kill you and your entire family if that’s what it takes to keep our world free and its people alive!”
“The AI’s are dead and no machine owns me,” I snapped rounding on him, “no man, either. And anyone who threatens my family—my twelve little toddlers—is a dead man walking. Who cares what my ancestors, a bunch of dead men that I’ve already disowned, did or did not do? So have fun with your delusions. I’ve left Capria and moved on. You should have done the same,” I said striding out the door with a thundering fury. I’d sworn no oath to King James, or
to any dead AIs! The only things that deserved my duty where my own little family and the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet—especially if there was any truth to Shrub’s wild accusations.
“I am Agent Oleander, the same Oleander that shot you and then again tried to kill you in the original boarding of what is now the Furious Phoenix . Come back here, Montagne, blast you! I said-” the Parliamentary Agent howled, causing me to stiffen and pause in my stride before continuing out of the room.
Behind me the door slid closed on the increasingly strident ravings of our spy and paid parliamentary assassin, long may he rot in his cell before I finally spaced him.
Outside the cell it was a subdued Sean D’Argeant and group of Armsmen that met me.
The head Armsman jerked his head clearing the room.
I tapped a foot on the floor and turned to look at him.
“Yes, Head Armsman, did you have something you wanted to add?” I asked coldly giving him a penetrating look.
“Do I have something I want to talk about!” D’Argeant said his voice low and intense. At my level stare he calmed slightly and although still just as tightly wound regained a look of calm, “didn’t you hear what he said?”
“Every word,” I assured him and then seeing he wasn’t going to let me go without something more I pressed my lips in a tight line, “what exactly is it you want from me, Armsman?” I demanded angrily. “A prisoner starts making wild accusations about the royal family, but what do you expect from a self-professed Parliamentary Agent—one who, by his own admission, has tried to kill me multiple times? Unless you’re telling me there’s actually some truth to his increasingly wild accusations?” I demanded, meeting and holding his eyes as I searched them for any hint of the real truth.
“He said some pretty intense things in there, Sir,” D’Argeant said, relaxing fractionally.
“Yes, he did. Some very intense things,” I agreed, “do you want me to deny them? I’ll deny them right here and now. I have no idea of what he was talking about, no ancient royal knowledge about some kind of conspiracy regarding ancient AI’s or anything else like it,” I paused, “other than what everyone learned in primmer school, of course.”
“Of course, sir,” said the lead Armsman.
“Look, he’s just trying to shake us. Don’t let him get to you. Whether there’s any truth in anything he said, I haven’t the foggiest, but the one thing you can be sure about, his type will say or do anything to throw us off our stride and put what little truth they do tell you in the worst possible light,” I said frankly. “For all I know, it’s an utter fabrication or, at best, ancient history where everyone involved is dead. As far as I'm concerned even if our founder was included—and who can say how much of that man's ravings are true at this late date—then the conspiracy died with them, if it ever existed at all. Right now we don’t know anything.”
“Talk to Duncan and see what he has to say about this if you’re concerned. House Montagne didn’t trust me enough to tell me the family access codes to the residence, let alone whatever deep dark secrets might exist within the family vaults,” I said with a shrug, “frankly I have no way to verify anything that he said. If it will make you feel better, I’m going to officially assign you the job of looking into this. If only so we can disprove it. After all, even the assertion of AI manipulation in our planet’s early society could bring galactic scrutiny to Capria. I mean assuming the rest of the galaxy cared enough about what happens in the Spine to actually launch an investigation,” I ended wryly.
“Thank you, Sir, but I do not need to speak with the former Armsman,” said the Head Armsman, his face stony. “As a Senior Armsman I already have access to certain information that might help shed some light on the topic.”
My blood ran cold. “Please speak, Armsman,” I said.
“I don’t know whether or not you and any of our previous Kings are clones, but King Larry saved our people. He fought and bled for our world, your Highness, never forget that,” D’Argeant said stiffly. “Like our friend in lockdown,” he sneered, “the royal guard has also studied historical records not available to the public and not only did the ships of our world led by King Larry personally, escort refugee ships full of our future ancestors to Capria he and they battled and boarded AI run slave ships freeing thousands of former slaves.”
I paused to digest this new information.
“I thank you for your information, Armsman,” I said after a moment, “although it doesn’t completely dispel his lies, it does give me some comfort that it isn’t only parliament that is aware of our…complicated past.”
“I know this is hard for you but, if the founder tricked a few AI’s, or even,” D’Argeant looked like he’d swallowed something painful, “made a few tough calls and secret deals, then I’m sure he did it for Capria. He was no traitor to the very world he founded, Prince Jason. He wasn’t. And remember: even the assassin admits that his ideological predecessors fought beside the King to keep our world free. I’m sure they wouldn’t have done that if they knew for a fact that King Larry was rotten.”
“Ironically, that last bit is more reassuring than anything else,” I said with relief. The idea that Larry One had just been an imperfect man in a real life impossible situation, but still doing the best he could despite everything, actually helped a lot.
“I’m sure that if you checked the family trees you’d find that back in those days there were any number of former AI slaves, servants and even active collaborators among the ranks of our much lauded founding fathers. Especially on the Parliamentary side,” D’Argeant said dryly.
“Thanks, Armsman,” I said with a lopsided smile. “In the meantime we need to get back to work there’s much we need to do to get this fleet back on its feet and ready to defend itself again. If you turn up anything new on the historic front let me know. But I’m not going to let parliamentary lies and ancient history dictate our future. The future belongs to humanity,” I said with finality.
When I went to leave the brig, my arms team swept into place behind me the same as usual.
Even though I felt less shaken on the inside, I cursed the day I decided I just had to go down to the brig to investigate the prisoners. Who would have thought that I would open this particular can of worms?
If word got out, if so much as a rumor started that I was some kind of ancient AI-created human model, the new members of the fleet might riot. I was already facing trouble because of the droid issue.
My alliance with the United Sentient Assembly, necessary at the time, was already coming back to bite me in the backside and would only feed into these sorts of paranoid rumors. I mean I knew that I wasn’t taking orders from any centuries defunct machines or their surviving droid minions, but no one else did.
So while I didn’t at all regret the decisions that let us get to this point, still alive and kicking, the consequences of those decisions were causing entirely expected complications.
Right now we just needed enough time to get our feet back under us. Once we had all those nice beautiful warships outside the hull of this station repaired and crews recruited to man and run them we wouldn’t just be back up to strength, we’d be stronger than ever before and a force to reckon with anywhere in the Spine. Possibly even in the galaxy, I thought with pride.
“Just wait for us, Governor, your day will come,” I muttered. There would be a reckoning one day. One day. And parliament too. I didn’t care if the people elected you, if you sent assassins that threatened to kill my kids I would come for you. The potential sins of my long dead ancestors wouldn’t stop me from protecting what was mine.
Chapter 28: Imperial Maneuvering: The Cornwallis Initiative
Deep in Imperial Territory, on the surface of the Imperial Capitol Planet
Senator Charles Cornwallis stalked through the main hall of his Capitol manor properties, his white cape billowing out behind him. The purple line that signified an Imperial Senator, blatantly illegal for anyone of a rank lower than Senator to
actually wear, slapped against the interior stone and ancient varnished wood. Like the stone, the wood was reputed to be from the ancient home world itself and only added to the mystique and aura of ancient wealth and power that clung to House Cornwallis.
“Say that again, Factor?” he demanded of the six inch diameter floating disk with the holo-projected facial image which floated behind him.
“The failure of the Reclamation Initiative to achieve its stated goals in the allotted time frame, and with no sign that this will change within a satisfactory time frame, has shaken the investors. Combine that with the apparent change within the leadership of House Raubach and the sudden attack on several of our patents and ship building operations, and profits are down by 30% across the board,” reported the attendant.
Charles Cornwallis clenched his fists. Long known as the fourth rail of imperial politics, he’d narrowly failed during the last election in his bid for a seat on the Triumvir.
Outside of the Triumvirate, until six months earlier, House Cornwallis had brooked no equals. He had an enviable list of client houses and a faction in the Imperial Senate that was the envy of even the Triumvirs, and things had been looking up.
However, in the cutthroat arena that was imperial politics, you were either on the ascendance or in decline. After losing his bid for one of the three seats that ruled the Empire—with of course the advice and consent of the Imperial Senate that held their purse strings and had the power to launch independent initiatives on those occasions the Senate could unilaterally agree to get something done—he’d known something had to be done.
And following rumors of a lost Core Fragment of MAN, the hard copy crystalline backups that were all that now remained of their dead Data God, the idea for what was to become the Reclamation Initiative had taken root.
Several years of careful maneuvering, and the bungling of the Gorgon Wars by the Triumvirate—some of which bungling had been enabled and encouraged by Senator Cornwallis—had resulted in his plan coming to fruition. The Empire had withdrawn from the Spineward Sectors, claiming it needed Rim Fleet for the Front, and with it had all the assets and potential information sources of his potential rivals for the Fragment. All that had been left to do was gather his forces, finish pinning down where exactly this fragment was located and, of course, put an appropriate stooge in the area to take the fall if something went wrong. That stooge had to be just powerful enough to be believed as the mastermind behind any failures, but at the same time weak enough that they could be dominated by Senator Cornwallis.
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