Imperial Twilight

by Eric Thomson

  “True. What about shore leave for our crews?”

  “That was my next item. Once you’re fueled up and back, you may go to two-thirds crewing and send one-third down for liberty. Through the depot, if you please, not the civilian spaceport. I’d like to keep a modicum of control.” The three starship captains signified their understanding. “I’m meeting with Governor Yakin, Speaker Hecht, and Chief Administrator Logran this afternoon to present our initial ideas for the Lyonesse Defense Force, so we can regularize our presence here and integrate with the colonists. Once that’s out of the way, we’ll turn our attention on building the knowledge vault. Chancellor Reyes told me Lyonesse University is keen to help spearhead the effort.”

  Commander Ryzkov raised her hand.

  “Where will the physical repository be, sir?”

  “Warehouse D right here in the depot. It’s the deepest of the chambers, large and armored to boot. Lieutenant Grimes and her people will empty it once we decide how the starship spare parts should be distributed. I asked around, and no one could think of a better place. Sealed up, it’ll resist just about anything, including the ravages of time.”

  “Meaning we might vanish, but our works will live on forever. Good to know.”

  “The goal is to make sure we, as a star-faring civilization, don’t vanish, Lori, but I understand what you’re saying.”

  After running through a list of administrative points, Morane glanced around the table and at the displays. “That’s everything. Questions?”

  “Yes, sir,” Mikkel said. “A few of the ratings asked the cox’n whether we’ll allow them to resign and settle on Lyonesse as colonists.”

  “Certainly. This is now home. And since our little navy will not play an expeditionary role, the ships can function with reduced crews until we’re forced to store them because we run out of fuel or spare parts. You can pass the word. Chief Administrator Logran assured me there’s work for everyone. Some involves hard labor such as clearing out new settlements and opening up new farmland, but the effort comes with land grants. And those who resign from full-time service are welcome to join our reserve. We already have a reserve ground forces unit under Lieutenant Colonel Kayne, and I’m developing plans to create a naval reserve unit.”

  “Okay, good to know, sir. Be prepared to approve a slew of resignations in the next few weeks. A lot of the older crew members can’t see themselves spending the next few years living aboard a starship in orbit or on patrols to the wormhole terminus and back.”

  “Understandable. Most of us signed up to see the galaxy, and it’s unlikely we’ll leave this star system ever again. Anything else, Iona? No? Lori? Nate? Brigid? Matti? Sister?”

  Gwenneth nodded.

  “You mentioned land grants. Is there any news on our request for a parcel to build the Lyonesse Abbey?”

  “I intended to speak with you after the meeting, Sister, but yes. Since the colonial government is dragging its feet, Chancellor Reyes offered to lease a portion of the university’s land endowment for a nominal sum. She would like to explore how your Brethren can help the university and the colony at large by using their skills in the areas of medicine, agriculture, teaching, et cetera. The land in question sits about ten kilometers outside Lannion and is suitable for animal husbandry and growing comestible crops. If you accept, we can move empty shipping containers out there to build your temporary abbey.”

  What Morane didn’t add was any land grant at Speaker Hecht’s behest might have come with strings attached, the sort the Order would find onerous after a while.

  The ghost of a smile softened Gwenneth’s ascetic features.

  “I am most grateful to Chancellor Reyes for the offer. Living in close quarters with outsiders is difficult for many of the Brethren. I will accept on their behalf, though I must put it to a vote in Chapter. But I should like to meet with the chancellor in person before we formally take possession.”

  “She wouldn’t want it any other way. If that was it, thank you. We’ll do this again next week, same day, same time.”

  “Sir, can I speak with you alone afterward?” Mikkel asked.

  “Sure, Iona.”

  They waited until the feeds from Myrtale and Narwhal faded, and the conference room emptied. Then, she said, “You’re not coming back aboard Vanquish, are you?”

  “No. I wanted to wait until Lyonesse’s ruling triumvirate accepts my proposal and puts it to the Colonial Council for a vote before saying so, but Vanquish is yours now. I’m swallowing the anchor to become something similar to an acting chief of the defense staff. That way, I can best supervise the construction of the knowledge vault and deal with the inevitable politics that will bedevil it each step of the way. The promotion to captain will come once we sort out the legalities.”

  “You know Lori is senior to me, right? She might not be happy.”

  “I know, and I have plans for her. Worry about picking the right first officer and how you’ll rearrange crewing protocols once the resignations trickle in.”

  “Aye, aye, sir. May I assume you’ll be putting up a commodore’s stars?”

  “If that is the governor’s wish. A well-regulated defense force needs a legal commander-in-chief, and as Lyonesse’s ruler, she’s it.”

  — 11 —

  Mykonos

  An eerie silence seemed to hang over Elis even though agricultural settlements usually bustled with life at sunrise, let alone almost two hours later. Sister Heloise and Hartwood Cahal exchanged worried glances as they left the woodland trail and crossed the deserted main highway before entering the riverside village proper.

  Empty streets bordered by ancient houses and overgrown yards greeted them. Irregular gusts of wind gently blew dried vegetation debris this way and that, while a faint hint of damp, rising from the Celadon River, tickled their nostrils. Though they saw no living creature beyond a few native insects, Heloise could sense life, both animal and human, behind blank stone walls erected before the old Commonwealth became an empire.

  She’d come through Elis years earlier, on one of the abbey’s regular community outreach tours, and remembered it as a quaint, almost antiquated rural community which had remained virtually unchanged over the centuries, its inhabitants content with their pace of life. Most worked on one of the many surrounding farms, growing crops to feed the always ravenous star system capital and its surrounding districts. Heloise also recalled meeting people who’d moved from Petras to live in less frantic surroundings, though with a hard cap on growth, the settlement could only absorb so many outsiders.

  “Something’s not right,” she muttered in a tone pitched for Hartwood Cahal’s ears only.

  “Ya think?” He murmured back. “I’ve seen livelier cemeteries.”

  They reached the town square without meeting another human being. In Heloise’s memory, a granite statue of the empire’s founder used to dominate the square’s grassy center. The inhabitants must have destroyed it in recent weeks, along with every other imperial symbol when the rebellion reached Mykonos. Not even the ruins of a plinth remained.

  Heloise nodded toward a covered arcade lined with shops.

  “Someone in there is watching us. Perhaps we should ask why the town seems dead.”

  “How do you know we’re being watched?” Cahal fell into step beside her.

  “Instinct. I thought Marines could feel unseen eyes studying them.” She glanced at him with an impish smile.

  Cahal let out a soft snort.

  “It doesn’t always work. And in these screwed up times, you can’t tell friend from foe without a program.”

  The arcade’s shadows swallowed them while they slowly studied darkened windows and shuttered doors. When they came within two paces of one with a simple sign reading Elis Emporium, it opened a few centimeters, just enough to reveal a narrow, worried face.

  “What are you doing outside?” A rough man’s voice asked. “Don’t you know about the curfew?”

/>   Heloise and Cahal briefly looked at each other, then the former shook her head before meeting the storekeeper’s hooded eyes.

  “No. We’ve only just arrived and aren’t aware of a curfew. I am Heloise, and this is Hartwood, my guide and protector. We’re on our way to the coast and wish to buy food as well as inquire about road or river transport possibilities. What’s going on in these parts?”

  The man’s gaze switched between Heloise and Cahal, his expression conveying he couldn’t quite believe their lack of awareness.

  “The Guards set up an exclusion zone on this side of the greenbelt two days ago, to catch anyone leaving Petras without authorization. Early this morning, at daybreak, the authorities put us under a curfew. We’re forbidden from leaving our homes until further notice. Us, the folks in Pheia up by Lysistrata Bridge, and every other settlement in the area. They didn’t tell us why, but anyone caught breaking it will end up in the Petras military prison under charges of treason against Danton’s government. How is it you’re here, in Elis, and you don’t know?”

  “A question easily answered, but since staying out in the open seems perilous, could we call on your hospitality and come in?” Heloise asked in the same gentle, quasi-hypnotic voice she’d used on Stefan and Sigrid the previous evening. “We would be glad to buy our supplies from you while we’re here.”

  After a moment, the door opened wide, and the man stuck his head out. He looked left and right, then stepped back to wave them through. With the door shut behind them, he said, “The name’s Jed Lormand. Welcome to the Elis Emporium.”

  Heloise inclined her head.

  “Thank you for allowing us to enter, Mister Lormand.”

  He shrugged, though not without a touch of irritation.

  “I’d be a lousy merchant if I turned away customers because the governor general has a comet up his ass for some reason. The damned rebellion should be over now that the last loyalists surrendered. Well, not so much surrendered as been shot. But you know what I mean. Things should settle, what with a new Coalsack Sector viceroy on Yotai running things independently of Wyvern. A grand duke by the name Devy Custis who gave Dendera the finger.”

  “You don’t sound like a fan of our new rulers.”

  “Bah.” Lormand made a dismissive gesture. “We traded one pack of power-hungry thieves for another. Give it a year or two and we’ll wonder why so many people died just so we could rip the imperial crown off our public buildings.”

  “Dangerous words to use in front of strangers,” Heloise said in a light tone.

  “If Danton were to shoot everyone in this star system who thinks like me, he’d be ruling a planet-wide cemetery soon enough. Besides, you don’t strike me as friends of the new regime. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be heading for the coast on foot.” When he saw alarm in Cahal’s eyes, a cold smile appeared. “You learn to read people in my line of work, especially those merely passing through town.”

  “And you don’t know why they imposed a curfew?” Cahal asked.

  “No. But the officer who laid it on us said we should report any sighting of Lady Marta Norum to his command post at the Lysistrata Bridge and keep our eyes on her until he gets here. The governor general wants Norum unharmed.”

  “Just Lady Marta? I thought she had kids?” Cahal asked in an easy-going tone.

  “The officer only mentioned her.”

  “Did he mention a reward?”

  “No.” Lormand shook his head.

  Cahal grunted.

  “Funny. Danton put a bounty on loyalist troops. Why not on her?”

  “Never heard of him putting a bounty on loyalists, which makes me think if there is one on Lady Marta, the soldiers will want to keep it for themselves. Mind you, the 84th Guards are the greediest bastards in uniform you’ve ever seen. Joining the rebellion didn’t improve their honesty. They might even be a bad influence on the rest.”

  “It’ll be a cold day in hell before Marines take their cues from the damn Guards,” Cahal replied, growling. “Even if the motherless bastards rose up against Dendera instead of dying for her.”

  “You’re a Marine?” Lormand tilted his head to one side as he studied Cahal.

  “Retired since before the rebellion started, so I got no dog in this fight. I swore an oath to the Crown a long time ago, and the Crown released me from that oath the day I hung up my uniform. Madame Heloise claims my service now.”

  “I see.” Lormand turned to Heloise once more, and a slight frown creased his forehead. “Did you pass through Elis before? Something about you seems vaguely familiar. I not only have a good nose for people, but my memory for faces is also pretty decent.”

  “Sorry, no.” Heloise shook her head as she held Lormand’s gaze with guileless eyes.

  “Ah, well. Maybe you remind me of someone else.” He tapped the side of his head with an extended index finger. “Age is doing my memory no favors. Now, what can I do for you?”

  Neither Lormand nor Cahal seemed to remember Heloise inferring she might explain why she and her guide were out in the open during a curfew. Or if the mercenary did, he was wise enough to stay silent.

  “We need portable food, Ser Lormand. Something compact, easy to carry, yet nourishing for folk traveling on foot. Enough for a week or more.”

  “What you want are laborers’ day packs. Popular in these parts. I can—” A woman’s voice from the back room, behind the counter, interrupted him.

  “Fay just called. She said a Guards combat car turned off the highway and is heading into town, Jed.”

  Heloise and Hartwood Cahal exchanged glances.

  “Maybe they put ISR floaters aloft and saw us enter Elis,” the latter said. When he saw a puzzled expression on Lormand’s face, Cahal added, “Intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance drones.”

  “Or they’re checking up on the curfew,” the sister said. “Let’s not borrow trouble.”

  “If the buggers are showing up because they caught you two via aerial surveillance, they won’t know anything beyond your disappearing into the arcade. There are twelve stores, along with private doors to another two dozen second-story apartments.”

  “Still, we shouldn’t put you in danger, Ser Lormand. We’ll take as many of your laborer’s day packs as we can carry and leave. If your store has a discreet rear exit, so much the better.”

  The merchant studied Heloise through narrowed eyes. As his face lost its intensity, the Sister of the Void could almost see him mentally shrug.

  “Best I don’t ask questions. That way you won’t tell me lies. And I can’t tell the soldiers what I don’t know. There’s an old smuggler’s tunnel leading from my basement to the river. The far end is well hidden. It gets you out of Elis unseen, though after that, you’ll need to see to yourselves. We’ll grab the day packs from my storeroom downstairs along the way.”

  He turned toward the inner door and made a follow me gesture with his right hand.

  “Why are you trusting us with your smuggler’s tunnel?” Heloise asked.

  “Let’s just say you bring to mind a kind person belonging to a group that did good work in my little town many years ago, people Danton fears so much he ordered their murder. Now come.”

  Lormand led them past the counter, through the back room, where a silent, elderly woman watched them pass, then down stone steps leading to the store’s basement. He stopped at shelves loaded with small, foil-wrapped cubes, each stamped with a manufacturer’s logo and a list of items.

  “Help yourselves.”

  Cahal and Sister Heloise filled their bags in silence under Lormand’s watchful eyes. If he thought it strange they were taking so many ration packs, he didn’t comment. When they had enough for everyone to last five days, she glanced at Lormand.

  “How much do we owe you?”

  He named a figure Heloise thought might be closer to the wholesale than the retail price, but she dug a handful of anonymous cred chips from a pouch beneath her
cloak without argument. The Rule governing her Order forbade its members from accepting charity, but under the present circumstances, she wouldn’t refuse Lormand’s kindness.

  Heloise and her Brethren carried limited funds, only the little they could save when Danton’s soldiers attacked the abbey and its outlying priories. And it had to last until they reached safety, if such a thing still existed.

  The woman’s voice echoed down the staircase moments after Lormand pocketed the chips without even counting them.

  “That combat car is entering the town square, Jed.”

  “Our customers are leaving via the back way.”

  Lormand crossed the basement and stopped at a shelving unit filled with wine bottles lying on their side. He touched an unseen control pad, and it shifted to one side with a tired groan, revealing a dimly lit passage carved into the rock by laser drills long ago. Perhaps even before the ravenous flames of empire rose from the Commonwealth’s dying embers ten centuries earlier.

  The tunnel ended at a hidden door which opened on a natural cave cut into the steep riverbank at a time when the Celadon was a raging torrent several kilometers wide, channeling meltwater to the sea at the end of Mykonos’ last ice age. Thick vegetation covered the outer exit, though enough light seeped through to let them study their surroundings.

  “There’s a path on the left. It follows the river for a while before heading into the woods. You’ll eventually come out on the highway. From there, you’ll be able to loop back and find the rest of your party.”

  Lormand, eyes fixed on Heloise, was clearly looking for a reaction to confirm his suspicions. He would have been better off to watch Cahal. The retired Marine wasn’t quite as self-possessed.

  Heloise inclined her head.

  “Thank you for your help.”

  “Consider it a good deed for a good deed, Sister. May the Almighty watch over you and yours.” Lormand vanished into the tunnel without waiting for a reply. The camouflaged door swung shut, turning the cavern wall back into an unbroken granite surface polished by flood waters.