by Philip Hamm
Though they bore no symbols or letters on the outside, the captain was suspicious. “The Rickobites have no reputation for making weapons,” she said. “Where did these really come from, Nacyon?”
“Does it matter?” he replied. “They will make our ships more powerful than those of our enemies.”
“But if we were to open them up and examine the labels on the components, what language would they be in?”
He grew impatient with her, “I saw what happened to our ships during the last war; they were no match for anyone else, not even then, and while we’ve stood still, Zamut has been building newer and better during the last fifty years. If this technology gives us a chance to defend ourselves, who cares where it comes from?”
It was rare for him to be angry with her and the captain was quiet for a moment. Then she shook head, “Nobody is going to be fooled, Nacyon; the King will have you arrested for treason and these boxes will be thrown into the void.”
“It isn’t treason to want to save our Empire,” he replied as she walked away from him. “There’s a war coming; we need every advantage we can get, wherever it comes from.”
“And who will start this war?” she said, stopping and turning on him angrily. “The side with nothing to gain or the one with everything to lose?”
“I don’t understand...”
“Why would Zamut or any of the other empires attack us? Whatever he told you, the only reason the Rickobites are selling us these weapons is for us to use them on their behalf, not ours.”
“They can’t make us go to war against Zamut...”
“Not even to get Sapadilla back...?”
“No,” he said. “Not even for Sapadilla...”
But she was right; he had been thinking about his world and the chance of reclaiming it for the Quill Empire. If the weapons were as good as Rimmon claimed, they could go to Zamut and negotiate from a position of strength. What did the Zamut Senate care about one world out of so many in their Empire; surely, they would see the logic of handing it over to its proper rulers rather than engage in a useless conflict?
He heard the cabin door slam behind him. He would have to spend the night in the ambassadors’ quarters but just for once, he didn’t feel like apologising. He climbed down the stairs to the main deck just as the last of the long-launches left.
“It’s like Pater’s Day,” said Wayfinder, excited by the variety and newness of their cargo.
“Our captain disapproves,” Nacyon replied.
The navigator shrugged, “She might have a conquistador’s temper but she doesn’t have a warrior’s heart. She’s just worried for our children.”
“I’m worried for all our children, old friend. It won’t matter how many ships we build, if we cannot defend them with modern weapons, they’ll be naked against the IZN.”
Wayfinder didn’t disagree with him. “She’ll come around,” he said and went to help the twins with one of the larger cases.
There were three types of weaponry, of which the self-propelled rockets were the most conventional. They came in two sizes; small anti-fighter missiles, three feet long, that could be loaded into batteries and fired in a salvo. Then there were larger rockets, six feet long, for use against bigger targets. Both kinds had anti-Exarch war-heads infused with nicol crystals to pierce an Exarch field and explode inside the bubble. Cargo Capella had them carried down to the upper gun-deck and placed in lines where the old cannon had once stood.
They stored the laser weapons in the hold. They came in several parts and included small Exarch generators to power them. Nacyon had Boatman Crake open up a crate and once they’d burrowed through the straw, they found a glass tube, two and a half feet long and eight inches wide, with an arrangement of complicated lenses, crystals and electronics inside.
“Have you ever seen anything like this?” said Boatman, holding up the device and turning it over in his hands.
“No,” Nacyon admitted. “But I hope it works.”
“Do you want us to set it up so we can try? I have the instructions here...” he showed the Rao the thick booklet, written in standard Evigonese, that had been taped to the lid of the crate.
Nacyon smiled, “And what will we fire it at?”
Boatman shrugged, “We could find an asteroid…?”
They heard the bell ring to announce the Apus was underway. The crackling of the Pavonine field grew louder and the timbers creaked.
“I don’t think the captain is going to pause until we reach Rhizic and get these things off her ship,” he said. “I’m afraid we’ll have to leave them in their straw.”
Boatman was disappointed, “It would have been nice to see what they could do.”
“Well, don’t be tempted to try one here in the hold; I don’t think she would be happy to see a hole appear in the hull – or worse, a fire.”
The largest of the new weapons was also the most mysterious. Rimmon had called it a ‘microwave emitter’ but Nacyon had no idea what that meant. There were four curved sections that fitted together to make a ring nearly thirty feet in diameter, a dish, over twelve feet across, and a number of cylinders that joined the two together. There were also other devices, the instructions said, that fitted to the back of the ring to make it work and the whole had to be connected to a large source of electricity.
According to Rimmon, the weapon produced a beam that could destroy any ship from the inside, like roasting a chicken in an oven, no matter how strong its Exarch field or the thickness of its armour. It sounded like a horrible way to die.
“The IZN has no defence against it,” he had told Nacyon before he left. “You can fit the device on your largest ships and be assured of having the ultimate deterrent.”
“It’s only a deterrent if people know about it,” the Rao replied.
“They will know,” he had said before climbing onto a launch to go back to the Zircon ship. “But for now, keep the weapon a secret and until you need it.”
*
“My Shogun has witnessed those emitters in action,” said Fengtai, shaking his head. “He describes the effect as like lightning trapped inside a bottle. They shatter the nicol crystals in the Exarch disks and anyone not killed by the bolts dies from suffocation when the field collapses. It is not an honourable way to fight.”
“No,” Faam agreed. “But what Rimmon didn’t tell Nacyon was the fact it can’t be used from a distance greater than a few thousand feet. You have to be close to your target for the effect to be lethal.”
“And a Quill galleon in full sail is hardly stealthy,” said Fratris.
“It isn’t,” she agreed again. “And the emitters require a great deal of power; one shot is all you get before they have to be re-charged. But they didn’t know that at the time.”
Crotal asked, “But did the King realise they were Ulupan weapons?”
“If he did, Rao Quern, Rhatany and the admirals persuaded him they were necessary for the fleet. And just for once, they gave Nacyon the credit for the deal. Of course, he would also get the blame for the spiralling costs of re-arming the QRN with such expensive weapons – they didn’t come cheap and the Rickobites made a huge profit. But they did give the QRN a potency they never had before and, temporarily at least, the King was pleased with him.”
Fratris sniggered, “Was he pleased with the news about Zizania?”
“Nacyon told his usual story; she was still spirited and enthusiastic about her life on the Cissoid Corindon. She was making progress in the area of social relations. She was being well-looked after by Kalmia and the staff. And naturally, nobody asked any specific questions about what she was doing or how her academic studies were going. As far as the Royal Household was bothered, she wasn’t on Rhizic or any of the worlds of their Empire and that was good enough for them. Besides, they thought it was her being on the Cissoid that had brought the bounty of the new weapons to Quill. If Nacyon hadn’t been waiting for her on Agnatha, Rimmon wouldn’t have been able to offer him the samples.”
“I think that’s a very good observation. It does seem strange that, after years of not making contact with Nacyon, Rimmon should suddenly reappear like that with a new offer of help. But he had been very busy searching for the lost tsars and the old Zarktek generals. He had already found more than a dozen, hiding in the forgotten places of the Third Sphere, most of them living as hermits or with a small retinue of guards. And he was certain he now knew where the seven princes and their father were being kept – though not the exact location (he wouldn’t discover that for several months). But if the ultimate plan of the Cult of Adramelech was to come to pass, to see the Zarktek restored and back in power, he needed the other empires to be looking the other way. He needed Quill’s Royal Navy to be a threat to Zamut and their neighbours. And that’s why he came to Agnatha prepared.”
Crotal asked, “But why didn’t Rimmon just go to Rhizic and approach the King of Quill himself?”
“Because he also needed Nacyon to look important; the Rao was central to his plan and letting him bring the weapons home as a kind of trophy raised his profile in the Household. That was essential to what would happen later, once the QRN was up-to-strength.”
Fratris asked, “How many ships did they arm?”
“That’s difficult for us to know for certain,” she admitted. “The emitters were fitted to the biggest of their ships, the eagle-class, including the flagship, the Aquila, and they had at least twelve of those. The next biggest, their equivalent of Penti destroyers or Zamut cruisers, the falcon-class, were not large enough for the emitters but were fitted with the multiple rocket launchers and the laser-turrets. The smaller hawk and frigate-classes had to make do with just the rockets. But we believe their fleet was hundreds-strong; large enough to over-come a Zamut flotilla but not an armada.”
The boys nodded and appreciated her attention to detail. They could listen all day to facts and figures about warships.
Fengtai asked, “How long did it take them to re-arm their ships?”
“Just weeks rather than months or years – that’s one of the advantages of building in wood rather than steel; it can be adapted quickly. Once King Tragacanth had signed Rimmon’s agreement, the Zircon Corporation brought a steady supply down the Meros and the Ouroboros Road to Rhizic and ships like the Apus took them to the shipyards of Rhipidat. Meanwhile, Nacyon and his friends continued their cycle of travelling to Agnatha and back, each time returning with more stories of Zizania’s misdeeds that Nacyon couldn’t afford to tell.”
Fratris complained, “Didn’t he tell the King anything about her that was true?”
“In private, the King did ask him, once, how she was really doing. He told Nacyon to be absolutely honest and the Rao described her affairs and tantrums, how she was universally hated by the staff and only tolerated by Kalmia. Given a choice, he said, they would have kicked her off the ship and into the void without a second thought.”
“How did the king react?”
“Apparently, he just nodded and said nothing; he’d always known Nacyon was lying.”
“Didn’t he care about the misery she was causing you and the other students?”
“If he did, he never did anything about it.”
Crotal asked, “What could he have done?”
“I suppose, he might have cut-off her allowance or threatened to bring her home.”
“Then, why didn’t he?”
“He was enjoying the peace and quiet too much.”
“I think that’s incredibly selfish,” said Fratris self-righteously.
Faam shrugged, “She was going to be the Queen of Quill one day and as far as he was concerned, he wouldn’t be around to see the consequences.”
“I think it’s quite sad,” said Fengtai. “To have your whole family hate you like that...”
“They didn’t hate her,” she corrected. “They just wanted her to be different. Which is how Rimmon was able to succeed...”
“But wasn’t it their fault that she was the way she was?”
Faam nodded but said, “It’s not easy being a parent.”
As if on cue, her baby started crying. He’d barely made a peep all morning and Faam was surprised he had lasted this long. Taylia went to fetch him from under the tree.
“Somebody needs feeding,” Faam said. She checked her watch, “It’s twelve o’clock - why don’t you three go down to the refectory and we’ll carry on at one.” She started unbuttoning her blouse.
The boys were on their feet in an instant. They bowed to her and scuttled away as quickly as they could.
“Anyone would think they’d never seen a breast before,” said Taylia, picking the squirming child out of his basket and holding him until his mother was ready.
“They probably haven’t,” Faam smiled, reaching up to take him.
Taylia sat down in Fengtai’s chair, “The Lords help them when they mature.”
“I’m sure you could teach them a thing or two.”
Taylia winced, “I’m prefer my men to be men – I’m not Zizania.”
“Fengtai is a man – he must be at least our age.”
“Who can tell with Penti? He could be a hundred years older than us for all we know. But he’s too devoted to the Shogun to consider dividing his loyalty.”
“I’m sure Narikin would let him marry if he wanted. But I can’t see any Penti women coming here, can you? Neither seen nor heard, isn’t that what they say?”
“I’ve never seen one without a veil,” she agreed.
“But he could marry a human if he chose – there’s nothing to stop them biologically. It’s strange, isn’t it? A Penti is one hundred percent ultra-alien and yet they can have children with humans but a Quill is almost all human and yet they can only breed with their own.”
“I call that blessing – imagine how many little bastards Zizania might have had...”
“If she could have fallen pregnant, perhaps she might have been more discreet.”
It was lunchtime for everyone and students streamed out of the academy buildings to enjoy the sun and play games on the lawn. Those that strayed too near were glared at by Taylia and soon retreated. Meanwhile, the baby suckled happily and Faam tried not to wince when he pulled too hard.
Taylia watched impassively. She was not a maternal woman and babies didn’t excite her. Never-the-less, she was very good with Faam’s; he never complained when she picked him up rather than his mother and if he was crying, she could usually soothe him. And soon there would another to care for; her second child had a month to go and was already looking ready to enter the world.
The boys were fascinated with her pregnancy but didn’t dare ask questions in case the answers were too technical or embarrassing. The closest they had got was asking if her little boy would be emperor one day. “That’s up to my husband,” she had replied. “He could go on forever or step aside – but I think it would be very difficult for him to put this duty on our children. Like any empire, power has enormous responsibilities; the Tun Emperor has struggled for years to maintain control over his family and as the Sultans of Saron know only too well, it can be a very dangerous existence.”
Crotal had nodded, “Most of my family has murdered each other.”
Before Fratris could boast about the Zamut Imperial family, Faam said to him, “And even though you elect you emperors and authority lies with the Senate, it can still be a very lonely job. My husband has made sure we live an ordinary life behind our public duties and that’s why I’ve chosen to teach you and why you’ll be seeing me with my baby every day.”
Taylia handed Faam a towel as the baby stopped feeding. “Do you want to go inside and get something to eat?”
“Are you hungry?”
Taylia shrugg
ed, “I wasn’t but watching the baby feed has made me thirsty.”
“I’m sure he won’t mind sharing.”
She pulled a face, “I wasn’t thinking of milk. I’ll ask Eclat to send us some tea.”
Faam nodded and did up her blouse. The baby stared back at her as she looked into his face. “I wonder what your future will be?” she said. “Are you going to be great leader like your father or a constant embarrassment like Zizania?”
Taylia shrugged, “At least he can’t be cloned.”
11 - The University of Panadawn
Fengtai and the two boys talked about their lesson as they walked across the lawn to the nearest lift. Fratris said, “Do you think the Rao had any idea what he was doing or was he just stupid?”
“He must have known Rimmon was up to something,” said Crotal. “Rickobites never give with one hand unless they’re taking with the other.”
“They didn’t give the Quill anything,” said Fengtai. “They sold them those weapons for profit. Nacyon must have thought it was just a business deal.”
“You don’t buy weapons to hang on the wall,” said Fratris. “They used them against my empire – but did Nacyon know the QRN would turn on us like that?”
“He thought they were for protection.”
“But he wanted Sapadilla...”
“I don’t believe he wanted to go to war over it.”
“He couldn’t have known,” Crotal decided. “He thought the King would last for years to come and there would be peace. The Professor called it their ‘Golden Age’; why would Nacyon have wanted to change that?”
“He didn’t but obviously Rimmon did,” said Fratris. “He was preparing a way for the Zarktek to return and he was using the Quill to help him.”
Fengtai said, “My people have always known the Rickobites are not to be trusted – that’s why we closed our borders for so long.”
The boys didn’t believe that was true but kept quiet. Among the human empires, it was thought Penti had isolated themselves to hide their weakness but it wouldn’t have been a good idea to say that to Fengtai. He was mild-mannered in all respects except when it came to defending the reputation of his people. They didn’t think he would hurt them but they didn’t want to lose his friendship.
