Graveyard of Empires

by Lincoln Cole

  The officer—Abdullah—looked over at Argus for support, a terrified expression on his face. Argus kept his expression unreadable, glad he wasn’t in the man’s position. He’d known Kristi through correspondence for a few days now, but he had a healthy respect for her penchant for manipulation. She enjoyed her mind games.

  Finally, Abdullah found his voice again. “Warrant Officer Belgrade is seen by the men as an overbearing fool and Frederick Penn a backbiter. Some think he killed Captain Schmidt in the hopes he would be promoted.”

  “Would he kill me?”

  Abdullah hesitated again and then shook his head. “I have no idea, but if I were you I’d make sure he never got the chance.” After he said this, he seemed to second guess his brash response and lowered his eyes to the ground.

  “But you say he doesn’t have the respect of the men?”

  “He promotes for loyalty, not talent or ambition. His friends are power hungry and controlling. The enlisted soldiers won’t speak against them for fear of punishment. It’s happened before.”

  “If the men won’t speak, then how can I verify what you say is true?”

  “You can’t,” he said. “Or, at least, it would be difficult. My friends trust me, but they wouldn’t say these things to other people who ask.”

  “So I’ve heard. People trust you, Abdullah, and you are a good man. That’s why I promoted you. I expect competence and obedience. Don’t second guess yourself. And never,” she said, emphasizing each word, “ever, second guess me.” Abdullah nodded his understanding, but the look of terror was still present. “Dismissed.”

  He saluted and turned heel, the tenseness in his body giving Wade the impression he was fighting the urge to flee. As the door slid smoothly shut Kristi shifted to face Argus once more.

  “He seems intelligent,” Argus offered. “But out of his depth.”

  “He came highly recommended by the previous Captain. He was up for a minor promotion before Captain Schmidt met his end.”

  “If what he says is true, why keep Fredrick Penn as First Officer? As Captain, you are well within your rights to replace him.”

  “I was afraid Penn held the respect of those under his command. He’s been on the Fist for twelve years, and I didn’t want to act rashly. But now that my suspicions have been confirmed, I can deal with him accordingly.”

  “You’re going to have him killed?”

  Kristi smiled, but only her lips curled. It never reached her eyes. “No. You are.”

  3

  “Excuse me?”

  “As Captain, I have the authority to kill anyone under my command. But my command is shared.”

  Argus didn’t like where this was going.

  “Which means that, if my equal seeks to have someone killed, I have no choice but to acquiesce.”

  “She’s only a little girl.”

  “A very powerful little girl.”

  Argus was starting to feel sick.

  “I haven’t signed the paperwork yet…”

  She laughed. “You sent the request to me, not the other way around, and I still have all of our correspondence on record. What happens if I send that to the Minister?”

  “She’s only a child,” he said, his voice low.

  “I am well aware,” she said, just as low. “And she takes after her father.”

  4

  “What do you want?”

  “Nothing more than what is already offered,” Captain Kristi said. “I merely don’t like dishonesty. I have certain agendas I am hoping your daughter can help me accomplish, and I don’t want you working against me. We should be on the same team.”

  Argus hesitated. “What agendas?”

  “Cleaning up corruption. Battling evil. All well-intentioned goals, you would agree.”

  “Is having people put to death on that list of goals?”

  The Captain was silent for a moment. “How many different sins are there?”

  “Sins?”

  “Over twenty, many of which are punishable by death. How often are such sinners put to death?”

  “Never,” he replied. “Those barbaric laws haven’t been followed in years.”

  “Because the Ministry is weak,” Captain Kristi said. “The Republic is weak. We have a cancer, eating away at our civilization, and we do nothing.”

  “There will always be bad people.”

  “And more when good people do nothing,” she said. “Your daughter is in a unique position, able to judge the wicked with impunity, to right wrongs that are centuries old. She will be known as the greatest Minister in history.”

  Argus listened, aware that she was crazy. He had to admit, there was something tempting in what she was saying. He hated corruption as much as the next person.

  “She will be safe?”

  “This is the safest place in the galaxy,” Kristi said. “You have my word that as long as you do not work against me, Givon Mielo will never have access to her or know of your involvement. She will never want for anything.”

  “Okay,” Argus said. “Then we have an understanding. On one condition.”

  The Captain narrowed her eyes. “Speak.”

  “She will make her own decisions,” Argus said. “About who and when to…follow your agenda.”

  Kristi thought about it and nodded. “I will advise her, but never force her. She is my equal, not my servant.”

  “Very well,” Argus said, miserable but having no alternatives. He offered his hand, and the Captain shook it. “It was a pleasure speaking with you.”

  Chapter 13

  Sector 1 – Axis

  Abdullah Al Hakir

  1

  Abdullah strode through the empty Command Deck, heart thumping in his chest. His stomach was doing flips and his legs felt like rubber; all he wanted to do was lie down.

  The Command Deck retinue was still on leave. Normally the terminals here were thriving with activity. Personnel pored over data and communications and filtered information for easy processing by the High Officers.

  Tonight they would get their orders, and tomorrow they would flood back to Denigen’s Fist. In a few days, they would be back on patrol.

  Abdullah would have to send similar orders when he got back to his chambers. The thought was disorienting. How many of the soldiers he was in command of even knew who he was? A handful? Less? He would be delivering orders to over sixteen thousand soldiers on a daily basis. Most of his time would be spent on the bridge with the Captain.

  He’d dreamed of one day acquiring a post like this, but that hope was unrealistic. He never actually thought it might happen.

  A whisper of sound distracted him. He could have sworn he’d heard a voice.

  There. It sounded like a child. He spun, trying to pinpoint the location in the empty hall. He saw a small light on the far side of the Command Deck. The Captain’s private office.

  Abdullah cocked his head and listened. Now that he’d pinpointed the sound it was easier to make out. It sounded like a young girl singing softly. The notes had an eerie echoing effect in the empty hall. Did the Captain have children?

  It was by no means forbidden, but unexpected. Children had a way of humanizing people that no self-respecting Captain would tolerate. Many had children, of course, but they never brought them or their families onboard the ship.

  But then again, he was the only person on the Command Deck today. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to know someone was here.

  He should leave. He had a duty to perform, and he didn’t dare mess it up. Yet now his curiosity was piqued. He wanted to know if he was correct if the Captain was a mother. The thought was actually comforting. After everything else that had happened today, knowing that she was just a normal human with a family would do wonders for his psyche.

  After a short internal debate, he walked to the cracked door. His heels clicked across the floor and he paused, wondering if he should knock.

  Instead, he gently pushed the door open. The room was small and sparse. Old fash
ioned weapons hung on the left wall—Captain Schmidt had been a collector—and a faux fireplace glowed in the corner. The floor was carpeted in a maroon plush material. A one-way mirror gave vantage over the Command Deck behind him.

  The only furniture was an ornate wooden desk with a rolling chair. A small girl, no more than six or seven, stood beside the desk. She held a doll in her hand and singing to it. She wore a sea green dress, and her brunette hair was done up in a ponytail. She didn’t notice him come in.

  She was holding the feet of the doll against her stomach and running her free hand through its hair, rocking absently back and forth on the carpet. Abdullah glanced warily around. There was no one to watch or supervise her.

  “Hello,” he said softly. He had to repeat himself before she glanced at him. She stopped dancing and clutched the doll to her chest, but her sudden look of fear was replaced by a wide grin within seconds.

  “Hi,” she said, looking shyly at her shoes. “I’m Abi.”

  “I’m Abdullah,” he said, patting his chest. “Is your mother around?”

  She shook her head. “No, my mother isn’t here. My daddy is here, though. Do you need to speak to him? I can go find him.”

  “No, that’s all right,” Abdullah said, confused. The man on deck with Captain Kristi, most likely. Maybe he was replacing the deceased Sister Portia Nace as the onboard Minister.

  If that was the case, Abdullah felt sorry for him.

  “Do you like Betsy?” the girl asked. It took him a second to realize she meant the doll.

  “She’s quite pretty,” he offered. Abi beamed.

  “She’s a mommy. But my dad wouldn’t let me bring the other dolls. He made me put them in the trunk.”

  Abdullah nodded. “Do you have a lot of dolls?”

  “Uh huh, I have lots. Do you have any?”

  “No,” Abdullah said.

  “Oh,” the girl said, looking back at her shoes. “My boyfriend has a lot of dolls.”

  “Who’s your boyfriend?” Abdullah asked.

  “Justin Tommy Miles,” the girl said. The name sounded vaguely familiar.

  “Is he a singer?”

  “Uh huh. He said he’s going to marry me one day. He said so.”

  “Mmhmm,” Abdullah said. He decided it wasn’t worth mentioning that the singer was probably three times older than the girl or that the young star had several other girlfriends his own age. “Is your father a Minister?” he asked.

  “Um…I don’t know,” the girl said. “Do you want to hold Betsy?”

  Abdullah shook his head. “No, she looks comfortable where she is,” he said. “I need to go back to work. It was nice meeting you Abi.”

  “Nice meeting you too,” she said, clipping each word with a nod and grinning. She spun and resumed stepping, humming to herself and rocking the doll in her arms. Abdullah watched for a moment, trying to wrap his mind around everything that had happened. The Ceremony, speaking with the Captain, and now meeting this little girl.

  He couldn’t. None of it made sense. With a sigh, he walked back out of the Captain’s Office and away from the command deck. It was late evening, and he had orders to deliver.

  Chapter 14

  Sector 6 – Mali

  Vivian Drowel

  1

  When morning came, Quinton prepared them a meal of vitamin enriched oatmeal and a loaf of stale bread. Vivian found the food distasteful, but once again Traq devoured his—and her—helping like a starving child. Vivian was grateful Traq was here. At the very least, their host wouldn’t be offended. For whatever reason, Traq really did enjoy the food.

  Quinton carried his still sleeping daughter to his wife’s room. Vivian got her first good look at the sickly woman. She was small and slender and wrapped in a thick woolen blanket. Her face was drawn and pale. Quinton was right. She didn’t have long for this world.

  The sun was brighter and a deeper shade of red than she was used to when they headed out. It beamed down on them, promising to leave burns on her skin.

  Children played a game with sticks. They all stopped to watch them pass.

  Everything was different this morning. A thin layer of dust covered the city now and not many people were outdoors. Most of the water basins she’d seen the night before had lids covering them. Those lids were also covered in dusty clay.

  Quinton saw her expression of distaste and chuckled. “Last night was just a light breeze. After a rain we don’t have to worry about bad storms for a few months.”

  “I’d hate to see it during dry years,” she said.

  Quinton turned down a street. They passed more homesteads and apartments and a few shops just opening for the day. Meager wares and stale foodstuffs seemed to drive the economy.

  Quinton led them to a squat three-story building. Out front, she saw four Jeeps—ancient combustion engines—and the first green plants in the entire city.

  The greenery consisted of a well-tended garden. A few rose bushes, some dandelions, and a lonely persimmon. There were also a few undistinguishable bushes scattered around the flowers. It was pathetic compared to the carefully tended gardens she’d seen but made beautiful by proximity to so much dust and clay.

  Vivian was impressed. “It’s nice to see some things grow well here.”

  “My wife used to tend it,” Quinton explained, an edge of pride in his voice. “But when she got sick…” his voice trailed off. He cleared his throat. “Some of the secretaries kept at it. A lot of people think it’s a waste of water, but I think it inspires hope. I let them keep it.”

  “It is beautiful,” Vivian said. “Maybe one day your entire planet can be like this again.”

  Quinton laughed. “Fill one hand with wishes and the other with…”

  There was a sudden creaking sound. The door of the squat administration building burst open with a crash and a man stumbled outside, brandishing a projectile rifle. He pointed it at Vivian.

  And here it comes, she thought. She’d been expecting this ever since the first walk through the city the previous night. She hoped to be gone before they found their courage.

  She heard a shuffling from nearby as Traq crouched behind her and a whining sound, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off the man as he spoke.

  “We’re confiscating your ship.”

  “Allen—” Quinton started.

  “Shut up, old man!” the man said, briefly pointing it at Quinton before turning it back to Vivian. “You’re too weak to do what is needed around here.”

  “There’s no need for violence,” Vivian said, keeping her voice low.

  “Then you’ll turn over the ship peaceably?” Allen asked, hope and suspicion on his face.

  “I’m afraid I can’t.”

  Allen’s face hardened, and he drew the gun up. “Tell us how to fly it.”

  “She’s going to help us,” Quinton admonished. “Please lower the weapon!”

  “Yeah, she is,” Allen said. His grin was that of a feral animal. He was missing half his teeth. “All we need is her ship!”

  It would take two seconds to kill this poor man. He wasn’t trained, so he couldn’t even understand how horribly outmatched he was. The rifle wasn’t even aimed at her, but rather over her left shoulder. Vivian could draw her pistol, dodge his first haphazard shot, and one quick snap would end it. But she didn’t want to do that. He was just a scared man with a rifle and no wits.

  “I’ll deliver your request for help to every planet I can,” Vivian said. Allen started laughing, nearly hysterical.

  “Like that would do any good. Those money grubbers wouldn’t pull us out of the water if we were drowning.”

  “We can’t take her ship,” Quinton pleaded. “Allen, think this through. You have a family!”

  “I said shut up!” Allen growled. Then his eyes narrowed and he spoke again. His voice thick with emotion, but Vivian heard every word. “We’ll just figure the ship out ourselves. It can’t be that hard.” Vivian started to reach for her pistol.


  Suddenly Allen’s head disappeared, vaporized by a point-blank laser shot.

  The hiss of the rifle came from inside the administration office. From their angle, they couldn’t see who it was. Slowly the body slumped to the ground, thudding on its knees and collapsing sideways.

  The shoulders landed in the garden, scattering dust into the air. Luckily the shot cauterized the neck, but there was a still a little fountain of blood spurting from the neck, drenching the white roses with droplets of blood.

  Vivian let out a breath and glanced over at Quinton. The mayor stood frozen in place, staring at the body, all of the blood drained out of his face.

  “Allen was one of my deputies,” Quinton whispered. A man stepped out of the building with a rifle slung over his shoulder. This man Vivian did recognize.

  It was Ralph.

  “Sorry, I heard the commotion from inside and got here as fast as I could,” Ralph said, leaning his rifle against the door and kneeling next to the body.

  He’s entirely too casual. This is definitely not his first time. I’m used to seeing death from my experiences as a Shield, but for most people the first death they experience is traumatic and—

  Uh oh.

  Vivian spun and glanced down the street behind them, letting out a long sigh and placing her knuckles against her temples.

  I am really not good at this at all.

  Traq was gone.

  2

  Quinton stood in the center of the street as the woman disappeared down the road at a full sprint. She was fast, and he knew without a doubt that he couldn’t keep up for even a few seconds. She disappeared around the corner, and he realized what she was after.

  “The kid must have gotten scared,” he mumbled, turning back to the carnage. He felt sick. He felt old. He needed to be strong. He was in charge of this city, for God’s sake. It wouldn’t be good for him to fall to pieces.

  There was nothing we could have done.

  Allen made his choice. Thank God Ralph was there.

  “Thanks,” Quinton said. He moved over to Ralph, patting him on the shoulder. His legs were wobbly, but he could keep it together.