The Light of Our Yesterdays

by Ken Hansen

  Tomadus wiggled in his chair, his chest clamping down on his beating heart. “General, I am curious about this. I had thought the Three Empires frowned upon us technologists since we are godless creatures. You surely cannot be interested in one of our inventions.”

  General Faisal frowned. “I am sure you understand that Roma helps us much in this regard. The Three Empires will not develop any technology, since we do not permit technologists to practice their crafts in our territories. But the Imperium in Roma can accomplish this on our behalf. We have no problem with our godless arbiter providing us with the tools we need. We simply choose not to engage in these lowly practices ourselves. So, again Tomadus, will you turn over the schematics and detailed directions to the Imperium’s technologists immediately?”

  Tomadus sat back. “I wish I could comply, but there are problems with the device. In good conscience, I cannot turn it over to you now. I do not wish to face any false claims penalties or imprisonment for improper practices. When we have the bugs worked out, we will contact your technologists.”

  General Khameni cleared his throat and put both hands on the table. “Civis Tomadus, you are too kind to so carefully consider the interests of our governments.” He paused and smiled artificially. “However, I am afraid that you do not appreciate the nature of our interests. Time is of the essence. The Imperium’s technologists are more than capable of working through any…problems.”

  “But General—”

  “No buts. We want the imperial technologists to begin exploring the intense focusing and extreme amplification of light inherent in your design. You and your company will not be held responsible for any problems with the prototype. Those are to be expected.”

  “Thank you. However, once we discovered the problem, I’m afraid that we dismantled the device and began anew. I wish my team had not done that, but I was in North Aztalan and they thought it best. Anyway, it will be sometime before we can provide a fully-operational prototype.”

  General Khameni leaned forward and slammed the table with his fist. “Let me be blunt, Tomadus. You have plans, technical diagrams, research. Provide them to us today or we will shut your company down and search your offices ourselves. If we find the plans or prototype, your company will never be allowed to reopen. Am I clear?”

  Tomadus looked back at the General, trying to hold back his fear, trying to overcome it. They don’t know I’ve hidden the plans and prototype away from my office the last few weeks. “Crystal clear, but I am afraid I have nothing I can give you. Please feel free to search my office if you don’t believe me.”

  General Faisal shot a glance at General Khameni and leaned forward. “Civis Tomadus, sir, surely you see the benefits of cooperating with the Three Empires. First Consul Khansensius has assured us of your loyalty to the Triumvirate. If we can get this project going in the next two weeks, I am prepared to offer to pay you twenty-five million Romanus talents just for the designs. You can keep the rights to commercial applications. Our uses will be governmental only.”

  Tomadus breathed deeply. In one week he could make three times his company’s earnings for all of the last five years. I am stupid. The creature stirred in his belly and that feeling of dread consumed him. He looked at the other three as he rubbed his abdomen and then opened his hands wide. “I don’t know how to respond, General. That is quite a sizeable offer. But I doubt we can recover the information in that time period. What is the government’s purpose, anyway?”

  General Faisal said, “That is not something I can share with you, I am afraid. But I assure you it will be used solely to enhance the stability of Roma and the Three Empires. What if we could arrange a meeting between you and Skjöldr, with the express understanding that you were acting as a ‘business diplomat’ on behalf of Romanus technologists worldwide. Would that help you expedite matters?”

  Tomadus felt the sinking feeling being replaced by a slight feeling of euphoria, the creature now withdrawing again after a small victory. Should not a clear good transcend the mere prospect of evil? Anyway, he couldn’t keep them away forever. Eventually, they would find his prototype and his schematics and then he’d be sunk and they’d still get their way. Better to take their offer and swallow hard. And find other ways. “Two weeks, you say?”

  “Two weeks.”

  Tomadus caught the First Consul nodding to him slightly. He had no real choice. “Okay. I have been troubled about Tetepe. Perhaps your solution will give me greater focus. General, I think I might be able to get you some schematics in two weeks. Will that do?”

  “Marvelously.”

  The First Consul chimed in, “Excellent! Let us drink some tea to our good fortune.” The First Consul’s assistant brought a cup made of fine china before each of the four men and set a matching teapot in the center of the table. The First Consul himself poured all four cups of tea. He raised his cup, and the others followed. Then, with a slight nod, he said, “To our joint venture, then, may Tomadus’s light amplification lead the way.” They all repeated the phrase, smiled and clanked cups.

  Once again, the bright white light burned through Tomadus’s eyes and turned his mind upside down. His eyes widened and he began screaming wildly, uncontrollably, “They’re all connected, you know—Mater, Annuntiatio, Pardus, Armageddon, Ramat David. They are all connected!” After a few seconds of this, he collapsed onto the table, spilling his tea on the two generals.

  The First Consul was speaking when Tomadus awakened, though Tomadus’s eyes were still shut. “My apologies, sirs. I do not understand what has come over him. I know he mentioned a recent medical malady. Perhaps this is a symptom of it.”

  General Faisal said, “What strange babbling: mother, announced, leopard and who knows what those other words were? Very odd.”

  General Khameni said, “We must obtain those plans before something worse happens to him. I fear he may be unstable.”

  “I am certain he will be fine,” said the First Consul. “You will receive your plans.”

  Tomadus raised his head slowly. It felt like several construction workers had crawled into his ears and were trying to hammer their way out through his temples. When he moaned, the voices stopped. Gradually, he was able to lift his body off of the table and see the mess he had made. “I am sorry,” he mumbled.

  The First Consul touched his shoulder. “Tomadus, perhaps we should call an ambulance for you.”

  While Tomadus heard this, it made no sense to him. An ambulance. To take me off to a derangement ward? No. He couldn’t afford that. Not now. “I’ll be fine. Just need some rest.”

  Chapter 23

  “I don’t want to use Decima’s father in this way,” Yohanan said to the bearded man across the simple wooden table in an upper meeting room at the Shenandoah Inn.

  Barely distinguishable from the pupils, the small, dark irises of Raanan’s eyes now focused on Yohanan. “What’s it to you? He is capable. He supports us. He is the only way in. What other choice do we have?”

  Yohanan sighed. He never should have supported this egotist as the new Demosep leader last year. Yohanan looked around the table at the other Demoseps present. “Only the desperate narrow their alternatives to one miserable choice. We always have options. We could wait for another chance to kill Hugleikr. His life is not so critical to us. But Quintillus’s life is. It is too risky.”

  Raanan shot back, “How do we know there will ever be another opportunity? Our spy networks are not so good that we can realistically hope for another chance any time soon. Quintillus can take care of himself. He is a master merchant and the Juteslams need him. If he is discovered, we can find a way to rescue him while he awaits trial before Skjöldr.”

  “Decima, what do you think?” Yohanan asked.

  She looked at Yohanan with an air of disappointment, and then glanced around the table at the other members of the committee. “I agree with Raanan. We must kill Vice Regent Hugleikr. My father knows the risks. He has agreed to take them because our cause is just. He
knows of Hugleikr’s long reputation of hatred and cruelty. But even if they suspect my father, they would not dare trample upon his rights. Only Skjöldr could condemn him and only after a long trial. We could certainly find a way to remove him from that danger. But he will not be caught. This is a good plan. No, a great plan. And Hugleikr must die. We all agree to that.”

  Yohanan slowly rubbed his chin as he looked at Decima. She was too certain, too eager, too committed. She was just too damn new to the fight and had not yet tasted enough of its tragedy. She could be reckless. “A great plan?”

  Achak, Yohanan’s good friend and the Demoseps’ best munitions expert, nodded and gave Yohanan that familiar wink of his. “Any day Hugleikr dies is a great day in my book.”

  Yohanan looked at his old friend and then at the rest of the faces waiting for him. Even Achak was telling him to go along. Of course, Yohanan agreed Vice Regent Hugleikr should die. As King Skjöldr’s second in command, that vicious son of a bitch was the butcher responsible for the deaths of so many Demoseps and the shelling of so many more innocent Tetepians. If Hugleikr were out of the way, maybe the more moderate ministers in Skjöldr’s council would gain greater sway. Maybe Skjöldr could break with the past. But risk Quintillus? That was like risking a second father’s death.

  “I agree with you, Achak,” Yohanan said. “I quibble only with the plan. Yes, Quintillus is a respected merchant, but he is no warrior. Yes, he supports our cause, but he is no Demosep. He has never had to directly face the ugliness of this fight. It is wrong to bring him in so close now. Let us put our emotions aside. Forget that he is your father, Decima. For the moment, I will forget that he saved me from the streets after my parents perished. Let us forget what this man has already done for all of us. But let us remember what he still can do if we keep him safe. Without him and his contacts, where would we be? Where would we raise funds? Where would our spy network be? We need him in New Åarhus, and we need him there without any unnecessary suspicions from the Juteslams.”

  Decima responded even before Raanan could get in a word, “I agree, but this is a small task for him. It is not as if he is walking into the Great Jutland Square with us. He will merely provide us with a little discreet access. Do you think I would want my father placed in danger?”

  Yohanan sat back. Maybe she was right. The mission posed only a small threat to Quintillus, who was quite good at playing the part of a wily merchant caring little for politics except how it might affect his bottom line. Moreover, without Decima’s support, Yohanan could never carry the day. “Obviously, I am in the minority here,” Yohanan said begrudgingly. “I concede. Let’s move on.”

  Raanan grinned and continued outlining the plan. “Okay. It looks like we are all agreed that the target and opportunity justify the risk. We can kill Hugleikr and make Skjöldr and his thugs look incompetent all at the same time. Quintillus holds the key…”

  Chapter 24

  The darkness surrendered again to its own futility, no longer able to shroud her immense beauty. Yohanan was navigating his eyes over the figure of Decima, his only beacon the dim light of the moon shining through the porthole into the hold of the ship. Her own eyes were staring out of the porthole, searching for any lack of normalcy. Her expression was one of content, not worry.

  “Always vigilant, I see,” Yohanan said. “You have learned well. Thanks to your father, they know us only as a merchant ship, ready to unload in the Port of New Åarhus. He is a brave man, your father.”

  Decima turned away from the porthole for a moment. She smiled gently and looked down, away from Yohanan. “That he is. He believes in our cause but not our methods.”

  “I know. I’m surprised he agreed to help.”

  “He trusts me. And he knows the terror of Hugleikr all too well. Hugleikr has practiced his deadly craft in New Åarhus—even on Juteslams who are disloyal. We must kill him.”

  “Killing seems to suit you a bit more than when you blew up that train a few months ago.”

  “We all adapt,” she said.

  “Some better than others.”

  She smiled and Yohanan winced. “What do you think will happen to you when you are eventually caught?”

  “I will never be caught. I am still the daughter of a prominent Romanus merchant. They know nothing other than my desire to help feed the poor of Shenandoah. If I am wrong, then I will fight to the death and take as many Juteslam scum with me as I can.”

  Slowly letting out a deep breath, Yohanan looked around the rest of the hold. Dekanawida and Achak sat on the other side, staring out their own portholes. It was a good thing his friend Achak had made it. That made up for Eliezer missing the rendezvous four hours earlier. That was unusual for his portly friend. A little obnoxious at times, Eliezer was not the favorite of many of the Demoseps, but he had always proven helpful to Yohanan in a pinch. But with Achak here, they had a sufficient crew to execute the plan.

  When Achak caught Yohanan staring at him, he nodded back and winked.

  Yohanan laughed and shook his head. His eyes focused again on Decima. “Don’t you think the plan is a little too cute for our needs?”

  “Raanan’s plan is brilliant and elegant. This thing will unfold on visi-scan and will be replayed around the world. They will see what fools the Juteslams are. The Juteslams will realize they are vulnerable. And Hugleikr will die.”

  Yohanan sighed deeply and stared out the porthole.

  A few minutes later, the horn sounded from the ship above, signaling their imminent arrival to the port authorities. The humming of the ship motors diminished until there was silence. He felt the sideways push of the tug as they listed momentarily to the side. His nostrils were filled with the heavy scent of sulfur from coal piled high on shore for export to the Three Empires. He heard the ropes being thrown overboard to the dock and the capstans twirling them taut.

  As the gangplank was lowered, he listened carefully for the marching feet of a search crew. That was one of the big risks on this mission. The authorities could always insist on searching the ship right after it came to port, but it was rare, even in these troubled times. Typically, they would simply wait for the cargo to be unloaded and search the ship’s crew as they left the docks. He heard only the sound of a single pair of feet crossing the gangplank.

  A few minutes later he heard the coded knock on the door of their hold: three knocks, then two, then three. When Yohanan opened the door, Quintillus walked in. “Welcome to New Åarhus, Yohanan.” Yohanan bowed to him respectfully, placing his hand to his heart. Quintillus repeated the gesture. Then they shook hands and embraced. A familiar, tingling warmth passed through Yohanan’s arms.

  Quintillus looked over at Decima and smiled. She ran to him and they hugged tightly. Quintillus did not seem to want to let go. His eyes were shut as he held her tightly to his chest for a good ten count. When he stepped back and looked at her, his glassy eyes betrayed his sentiment. “You have grown even more beautiful, my dear.”

  “Oh, Papa.”

  “Don’t you think so, Yohanan?” Quintillus employed that wry smile he used whenever he deliberately embarrassed his daughter.

  “Don’t answer that, Yoh. He’s just baiting you.”

  Yohanan responded anyway, “I have always found her as beautiful as you are kind, Quintillus. Gratias. Sorry to get you mixed up in this thing.”

  Quintillus pulled his lips in and nodded slowly, his head turning to make eye contact with the hold’s occupants—each in order like an experienced orator. “You can all thank me by keeping to our agreed-upon parameters. Only Hugleikr dies. I know you Demoseps sometimes forget it, but these Juteslams are people too. Despite the propaganda, they don’t all hate you. Many are innocents, and surely they do not deserve to die.”

  “The plan is perfect, Papa. The only other people at risk are Hugleikr’s lieutenants, and they are nearly as guilty as he. The innocents, as you call them, will be far away behind the barriers. To address your concerns, we will install a fail safe just
in case.”

  “I know, I know, my sweet daughter. But I have seen on the visi-scan far too many deaths of innocents from other schemes of your brotherhood. I know the Juteslams play up those tragedies, but they are tragedies, nonetheless. I want your word, all of you.” He swept his hand around the hold, taking in the entire group. “Only Hugleikr, and maybe his lieutenants, will die.”

  All but Yohanan nodded their heads and made the promise. Quintillus looked at Yohanan, seeking some sign of his affirmation.

  Yohanan returned only a gentle smile. “My friend, I promise you that I will do everything I can to prevent innocent deaths here. But I have seen far too much to promise you something I cannot completely control. Even if all goes well, I do not know what will happen in the aftermath. I do not know the reaction of the guards. There may be panic. It is always possible that innocents could die.”

  “Understood. Any panic by the Juteslams is the result of their own volition, and we know it is a tool for your escape. Now, I must get going. The guards are my friends and believe I needed to check my precious cargo, but they will begin to wonder if I stay too long. Good luck, my friends.” Quintillus stopped, reached out to Decima, and, with his palms gently holding each of her cheeks, spoke softly, “Decima, you have always been twice my worth.”

  She laughed at his familiar little name pun.

  “Stay safe,” he added with a nod, and walked out of the cargo hold.

  Yohanan watched Quintillus nearly a hundred feet away as he passed the port guards and let out one of his quick and quaint little one-liners. The guards laughed and he turned back toward them for more conversation, this time offering each of them a cigarette. With that cue, the four Demoseps quickly crossed with their gear from Quintillus’s ship down to the dock and up the gangplank of a much smaller vessel. This ship looked ancient, even in the moonlight. The long dragonhead and neck on the bow of the ship was intended to terrify anyone it approached near land or at sea.