Death to the Imperium (Imperium Cicernus) (5 page)

“The
cannon!” Commander Styke shouted. “Fire the cannon, you fools!”

Angrily,
and still unable to see, the Commander grabbed hold of the cannon and swivelled
the weapon around, trying to fix it on where he thought the ship was. There was
a loud bleep as the crosshair locked on to its target.

“Sir,
no!” one of his men shouted.

But
before anyone could stop him, the Commander hit the red button, and the cannon
fired. The prison ship had almost broken out of the atmosphere, but a direct
hit from the plasma cannon would have certainly destroyed it. However, the
Commander, unable to see, had actually locked on to a prisoner tracking
satellite in orbit around the planet. The satellite had been blasted to pieces.
The Commander groaned deeply as his sight returned. He was going to have a lot
to explain to his superior officer.

One
of his men turned to Commander Styke, whose eyes had returned to their normal colour.
“Missed them, sir.”

“Yes,”
the Commander said testily. “I can see that.”

***

The
ship’s new crew relaxed slightly when they were at a safe distance from Malus.
Of course, it could only be a matter of time before someone came looking for
the ship. Glitz knew that a tracking serial number was coded into all Imperial
ships, which meant that the authorities would have no trouble finding them.
Glitz pointed out to Tekka that they would have to abandon the ship at the next
opportunity.

“No,”
he replied. “We don’t.”

Doland
frowned. “Why not?”

“Simple.”
Tekka turned to the main scanner, and activated a switch. A male face appeared
on the screen. It was the ship’s computer. “Computer, who is the legal owner of
this ship?”

“This
ship is the property of the Imperium. I detect unauthorised personnel on the
flight deck. You are not authorised to pilot this ship. Please make landing on
the nearest Imperial outpost and turn yourselves in.”

Tekka
smiled. “I hardly think so. You see, I am rather good with computers.” He began
to type quickly at one of the smaller computer terminals. Then he opened a
panel that was built into one of the walls, pulled out a wire, and reconnected
it to a different port.

The
face disappeared from the screen, and coloured lights began to flash. Red,
blue, green, yellow. Red, blue, green, yellow.

“Quickly,”
Tekka said. “Stand in front of the scanner.”

Tekka,
Glitz and Doland stood directly in front of the flashing colours. There was a
faint humming sound. They watched the lights as the sequences began to get
shorter and quicker, until finally the colours red and blue were flashing at a
high speed. Then the screen crackled, turned white, and the face of the ship’s
computer appeared again.

“Let’s
try again, shall we?” Tekka said. “Who is the legal owner of this ship?”

“This
ship is the property of Hans Tekka, Raja Doland, and Harlan Glitz.”

“And
who are those people?”

“You
are.”

“And
what is the serial number of this ship?”

“This
ship is unregistered.”

Tekka
turned to his companions. “You see? This ship just became untraceable to the Imperium.
Now the only way they can find it is if we enter visual range on one of their
scanners.”

Glitz
and Doland exchanged an awed glance.

“And
they said escape from Malus was impossible,” Glitz said, unable to resist a
grin.

“Nothing
is impossible,” Tekka said. “Perceived impossibility is purely the result of a
lack of imagination.”

After
the events of that day, Glitz was inclined to agree with him.

Admiralty
Board Room

Lightworld

Volori
System

Twenty
high-ranking Naval officers were sitting at a long table, which was made of
sparkling black stone. They were the members of the Admiralty Board, the body
of officers that led the Imperial Navy, in times of both war and peace. The Board
Room had been designed by Sir Delphon Bruneletti, the applauded architect that
had also designed the Great Lunar Planetarium and the Jaxiaten Gallery. The
room was held up by rows of white stone pillars, and the walls were hung with
fine tapestries. Presiding over the Board, at the head of the table, was the
First Naval Lord, the commander of the entire Navy. The First Naval Lord had
called an emergency meeting of the Board to discuss the situation regarding the
hostile ship in the Badlands.

“The
situation is becoming ridiculous,” Admiral Blaize said, clenching his fists. He
was a tall man with a sharp crew cut and a strong jaw. “We cannot simply
continue to ignore the mounting evidence of illegal actions carried out by this
antagonistic power. We need to show a firm hand, and wipe out the enemy fleet.”

The
First Naval Lord sighed. “I wish it was that simple.” He was a man of around sixty,
white-haired and gaunt. But his eyes sparkled with a fierce intelligence.

“As
I’m sure you are aware,” Admiral Tryssan said, “we sent a single ship to the Paradonian
Sector to assess the situation after hearing word of a mysterious ship in the
vicinity of Chaos. The ship was destroyed.”

“I
know that,” Admiral Blaize said. “My friend Captain Blane was killed. But are
you telling me that the mighty Imperium cannot deal with some upstart
insurgents?”

“We
cannot risk any more men until we understand the full nature of their weapons.
After all, the security of an uninhabited backwater planet is hardly our top
priority.” The First Naval Lord placed his fingers together. “We do not even
know if the enemy is human. We have always been aware of the risk that an
unfriendly alien species would locate us.”

A
defining characteristic of the Imperium was xenophobia. Aliens were treated as
inferior beings, and were denied the rights given even to humans of the lowest
class. There were hundreds of alien species living on planets in the Imperium,
but they were kept firmly under the thumb. According to the official dogma of
the Imperium, which made its way into nearly every school textbook, aliens were
lesser beings, incapable of true understanding or empathy.

There
were ancient myths about other alien races that supposedly visited the human
race before the age of the Imperium. Some of these races were hostile, seeking
to dominate the humans. Others were more benevolent. One legend told of an
alien species called the Zierons, a peaceful race with an almost godlike
intellect. As the story went, the Zierons visited the humans bearing many
gifts, including the Dragonfire tree, a valuable source of protein that can
grow in virtually any type of soil. But their most treasured gift had come in
the form of a piece of technology—the phase drive. The phase drive allowed
human ships to travel faster than light.

Of
course, there was no substantial evidence for this myth, and most serious
people regarded it as a story for children. Several other stories existed which
sought to explain the invention of the phase drive, including the idea that
humanity stole it from an alien civilisation. However, the only official explanation
for the origin of technology was that it was developed by a physicist named
Professor Val Sazer—and the Imperium strongly discouraged the unofficial myths.
If there had ever been proof of another theory, it had been lost in the mists
of forgotten history. But however the technology came into being, the effects
on humanity were clear. The phase drive had been the catalyst for human
expansion. It had united human ambition and greed with the ability to conquer
the stars. They used the phase drive to colonise thousands of planets, building
an Imperium that stretched right across the galaxy.

“Indeed,
the ship does not match any record in our databanks,” Admiral Brown said,
moving his fingers over the black table, the surface of which was a giant
touchscreen computer. He pressed a button, and a holographic projection of the enemy
ship appeared over the table, moving in a slow rotation. The ship was black and
functional, and of a blocky, unusual design.

“It
is a strange ship,” Admiral Trenna said.

“Puzzling,
isn’t it?” the First Naval Lord said.

Admiral
Lake exhaled slowly. “It seems we are in a no-win situation. We can either do
nothing, and risk the build-up of hostile forces, or send more ships to the
area and risk their destruction.”

The
First Naval Lord smiled. “There may be a third option.”

All
members of the Admiralty Board turned eagerly to face the First Naval Lord. He had
been in charge of the Imperial Navy for over twenty years, and not a single
member of the Board doubted his judgment. He had proven himself to be a wise
and careful leader, and while some of the Board disliked his authoritarian mode
of governance, it was impossible for them to call his intelligence into
question.

“My
idea is somewhat risky,” the First Naval Lord admitted. “What is more, it
contravenes Imperial law. If we agree to go ahead with it, we will have to obtain
permission from the Senate.”

Admiral
Blaize was intrigued, although he disliked the idea of calling the Senate. The Imperium
was, in essence, an autocracy, but the Emperor himself had no real power. Just
like the historic Magna Carta spoken of in ancient, spurious documents, the
Galactic Charter, which was signed over a thousand years ago, had made the Emperor
of the Imperium subject to his Senate. The idea was to make the Emperor more
accountable, and in this purpose the Galactic Charter had succeeded. But the
despotism of the Emperor had simply been replaced by the dictatorship of the
Senate; it was worse, in a way, because the Senate did not have to worry about
rival heirs or pretenders to the throne.

The
First Naval Lord clasped his fingertips together. “We have already accepted two
basic propositions. The first is that we have a potentially serious enemy in
the form of the ship orbiting Chaos. They possibly have some kind of unusual
weapon—something we have not heretofore seen. The second proposition is that it
would be foolish to send more men to their doom. But there might be another way
to find out what the ships are up to without risking more than a single ship.”

Admiral
Blaize frowned. “One ship?”

“Please,
let me finish.” He paused. “We need someone to visit Chaos who can be
discreet
.
Someone who can slip behind their defences without being seen, and find out the
truth about what is going on.” The First Naval Lord activated a control on the
table, and a holographic projection of three faces appeared. “These people are
convicts, who recently escaped from a penal world. My intention is to send
these three people to the planet. You see, escape from penal worlds is supposed
to be impossible—it has never been done before. If these men can escape from
Malus, maybe they can get close enough to Chaos to find out what is going on.”

There
were a few cautious nods of agreement as they stared at the floating faces of
Harlan Glitz, Hans Tekka and Raja Doland…

Mazaroth

Upsilon
System

“So
tell me why we’re here again,” Doland said, staring grimly at the monitor. The
Upsilon System was around the size of Homeworld’s solar system, and four out of
the nine planets were habitable. The most well-known of the planets was Red
Spark, which was famous for hosting the yearly Spark Cup, a prestigious
starship racing tournament. But their ship was currently in orbit around a bleak
looking world called Mazaroth, which seemed to be nothing but a ball of desert.

“This
was where I was born,” Tekka said simply.

“Yeah,”
Doland said, starting to become irritated. “That’s what you said before. But
we’ve been travelling for four days, and I think you owe us a proper
explanation.”

“Let
me be clear,” Tekka said coldly. “Although I acknowledge your role in our
escape plan, the attempt would in all probability have been successful with two
different prisoners. I formulated the plan in every detail, so perhaps you
should show some gratitude.”

Doland
tried to think of a response, but he knew Tekka was right. And he
was
grateful. He just didn’t appreciate being dragged halfway across the galaxy
without a reason.

“Let
us land,” Tekka said.

Glitz
couldn’t help feeling uneasy about their journey to Mazaroth, but Tekka had
insisted that it was vital if they were to remain undetected by the Imperium. They
landed in a discreet location and stepped out of the ship. The planet looked
even more dismal up close. The sand, stirred by a thin wind, seemed to stretch
on to infinity. The Upsilonian sun was hot and bright; the temperature had to
be at least ninety degrees. The three men were wearing Imperial prison guard
uniforms that they had found in the storage bay of the ship, having gleefully
thrown their old prison clothes out of the airlock. Glitz zipped down the neck
of his uniform, trying to let the air circulate more freely. He had only been
on the planet for a few minutes, but he was already starting to overheat. They
couldn’t make out any landmarks of any kind—or even any buildings. There was
nothing but sand.

“This
way,” Tekka said, pointing.

“How
can you be so sure?” Doland said tiredly. “It all looks the same.”

Tekka
tapped his head. “Neurochip, remember. I always know which direction is north.
Do try to keep up.”

Doland
scowled and trudged along the hot sand. After about twenty minutes of trekking
across the dunes, the ground took a sharp dip, and for the first time some
buildings became visible, although they were almost camouflaged. It was like a tiny
city where the buildings were made entirely from sand.

“This
is where I was born,” Tekka said. “It is called the Elder Village. The Younger
Village is a few miles east.”

“You
grew up here?” Glitz said, staring from their high vantage point down into the village.
The sections of the city were linked by dusty roadways, and he could see a few
people dressed in rags traversing the streets. It looked like a deeply
impoverished area—not at all where you would expect a genius like Tekka to have
been raised. Certainly, it was unlikely to have any level of autonomy… and it
probably also had a large alien population.

Tekka
nodded, and led them onwards. After a few steps, they found their way onto a
crumbling path that led them directly into the village. A few villagers stared
at them when they entered, presumably thinking them to be genuine Imperial guards.

“Do
your parents still live here?” Doland said.

Tekka
winced, as if the word “parents” was painful to him. “No more questions,
please.”

Glitz
stopped walking, and folded his arms. “Tekka,” he said. “I’ve followed you this
far, but enough is enough. Tell us why we’re here.”

“Very
well. I would have told you sooner, but I was afraid you would not come if you
knew.” Tekka sat down on the dusty path, in front of two egg-shaped houses. The
other two men joined him. “There is a man in this village named Shaitana. He
was a friend of my father’s. He is a specialist in DNA transmogrification.”

“Trans-what?”
Doland said.

“Transmogrification.
It essentially means altering DNA. I have brought you here so we can all have
our DNA altered.”

Doland
turned pale. “What are you talking about? You’re not touching my DNA!”

“Listen,”
Tekka said. “If you remember, the authorities took a DNA sample from each of us
after our trials and before we were sent to Malus. Now, we are free,
technically speaking. But what will happen when they find us? If we change our
names, or even our appearances, a simple DNA test will be enough to verify our
identities if we are recaptured.”

Glitz
breathed out. He hadn’t even thought about that.

“However,
there is a solution,” Tekka said. “Shaitana developed a machine which… modifies
the genetic code. Thus, DNA analysis would identify us as
not
ourselves.”

“Clever,”
Glitz mused. “It sounds painful.”

“Listen,”
Doland said, who looked terrified. “You’re not going near me with a… trans-whatever
it is.”

“It
is essential that the three of us undergo the process,” Tekka replied. “It will
cause us no harm. There will be no visible difference in our appearance or behaviour—the
change will be purely superficial.”

Doland
fell silent for a moment, staring at his fingers as if deep in thought. Then,
without warning, he jumped to his feet and began to run back up the sandy path.
Glitz clambered up and ran after him. Doland was a fast runner, and Glitz
quickly got out of breath. For a minute, Glitz was worried that he would get
away. But then Doland tripped and fell forwards into the sand.

Glitz
increased his speed, running as fast as he could, and leapt on top of Doland.

“Get
off me!” Doland shouted.

“Just
calm down!” Glitz said, restraining Doland against the sand. The man struggled
for a while, but to no avail, because Glitz was much stronger.

“Now,
I’m going to let you go,” Glitz said. “But no running away. The three of us
need to talk.”

He
relaxed his grip on Doland, almost expecting the man to make a run for it
again. But Doland was clearly too exhausted. He spat sand out of his mouth and
wiped his sweaty white hair back from his forehead.

“It
seems we have a coward in our midst,” Tekka said coldly, once he had taken a
leisurely stroll back to his companions.

Doland
swore at Tekka, but deep down he wondered if the man was right. He had
certainly never been a particularly brave man. He had gotten through life by
being charming and charismatic. For the last ten years of his life, he had
worked as a salesman for the Nexus Technology Corporation, which was based on
Opus. The company was notorious for selling low quality products, but the
quality of its sales force meant it remained in profit every year. Before his
prosecution for voting fraud, Doland had been one of the most successful
salespersons in the company. He had started off as the worst employee, but had
quickly absorbed the techniques of more experienced salespeople to get his own
pitch perfected. The sales techniques he learned didn’t just work when it came
to door-to-door sales. He had gotten his first date with his now-wife after
trying out a version of his sales pitch that had been converted to a chat-up conversation.
In truth, Doland was neither charming nor charismatic. It was all an act, but a
good act.

“Look,”
Glitz said. “I know why you’re scared. I’m scared too. But Tekka’s right. We
need to go through with this.”

“I
refuse,” Doland replied.

Tekka
frowned. He had always found it amazing that other humans acted so
irrationally. He had never quite understood the illogical turn of mind
possessed by so many people. In fact, Tekka had always been more comfortable in
the company of computers than of people, for much the same reason.

“If
you leave this planet now,” Tekka said, “what kind of future do you think you
will have? Breaking out of a prison is a Category A offence. Unless you undergo
this procedure, the Imperium will hunt you down and probably—once your DNA is
verified—kill you.”

Doland
swallowed, and Glitz felt a small shiver ripple through his body. Tekka’s
smooth, icy voice could be frightening.

“All
right,” Doland said quietly. “So where does this Shaitana live?”

They
followed as Tekka led them back down into the Elder Village. They walked along
the sandy path, their shoes creating trails in the dust. They passed several
houses of different shapes but all made of the same sand-coloured material, and
eventually reached a dwelling that was even more ramshackle than the other
buildings.

“A
scientist lives here?” Glitz said, with disbelief.

“I
hope so. It has been a long time.” The entrance to the tiny house was a hole
covered by an ill-fitting board. “Now to enter the code.”

Tekka
tapped several times on the door, leaving pauses of various lengths between the
beats. When he had finished, there was a low grinding sound, like a rock being
pushed over a rough surface.

“We’re
in,” Tekka said. He pulled away the ill-fitting board and pointed into the
house. Just beyond the threshold, a slab had been moved away, revealing a
gaping hole. “After me, I think.”

Without
waiting, Tekka jumped into the hole.

Glitz
peered through the door of the house and down into the chasm. He could see
nothing but blackness. “Tekka?” he called.

“I’m
fine,” came Tekka’s voice. “Come on.”

Glitz
shrugged, and jumped into the hole after Tekka. After his companions had both
disappeared into the black hole, Doland wrung his hands. If he was going to
escape, this was his chance. He could run back to the ship, find some way of
accessing the ship’s computer, and get off this planet before they could stop
him. But he kept thinking about Tekka’s words of warning.
“The Imperium will
hunt you down…”
Doland braced himself, and jumped.

Doland
felt himself sliding down a kind of chute; it was completely dark, but he could
feel a smooth surface beneath him as he whizzed along; air rushed past his
face. Then he could see light. The tunnel came to an abrupt end and he was
thrown onto a pile of rubbery material, which was presumably meant to provide a
cushioned landing.

“You
all right?” Glitz said.

Doland
nodded and got up. “Yeah.” The chute had deposited them in what looked like an
underground laboratory. A long table was covered with fizzing chemicals,
complicated charts, and strange instruments. The room was illuminated by
gravity lamps, floating luminescent spheres.

“He’s
not here?” Doland said.

“He
must be,” Tekka said. “Otherwise we would not have been able to gain access.”
He pointed towards a door in the side of the lab. “Maybe he is in the second
laboratory.”

Tekka
made a move to open the door, but it burst open before his hand reached the
handle, and a man jumped out, brandishing a laser weapon.

“Nobody
move!” he ordered, staring at the three intruders with wide eyes. The man
looked like the stereotypical mad professor; he had thick glasses, messy white
hair, and a tattered lab coat.

Tekka
sighed. “We are here for—”

“SILENCE!
You’re not taking me! Do you understand! You’re not going to arrest me!”

Of
course
,
Glitz thought,
the uniforms…
he thinks we’re Imperial guards!

“We
are not here to arrest you, Shaitana,” Tekka said impatiently, taking a step
towards the man, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was pointing a gun at
his chest. “Don’t you recognize me?”

Shaitana
blinked a few times. He seemed confused. “Is it… it can’t be… Hans Tekka?”

“The
same.”

“The
last time I saw you… well, you were just a boy. So… so you became a prison guard?”

Tekka
shook his head. “You never were too quick on the uptake, were you? Of course not.”
He paused. “Lower your weapon and we can talk about it.”

Shaitana
hesitated, but he clearly decided that he trusted Tekka, and he put his weapon
inside the side pocket of his lab coat. “So what’s going on?” he said.

“We
are in trouble,” Tekka said. “We escaped from the planet Malus after stealing
an Imperial prison vessel. That is where we obtained these uniforms. The Imperial
soldiers will be looking for us. We need to undergo the transmogrification
procedure.”

Shaitana
shook his head. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t do that anymore. Too risky.”

“But—”
Glitz said.

“No.
I mean, the work I do here still isn’t strictly legal. But I draw the line at
transmogrification.”

“I
will pay you a million credits.”

The
man was taken aback for a second. Even Glitz and Doland were surprised. A
million credits was an insanely large sum—you could buy a home on the leisure
planet Eden for that much.