Rhythm of the Imperium (38 page)

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Authors: Jody Lynn Nye

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Space Opera, #Action & Adventure, #General

BOOK: Rhythm of the Imperium
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I couldn’t speak. There was too much to absorb. My uncle passed the time of day with his colleagues, remarking upon comets passing through the heliopause and seasonal meteor showers hailing down on one or another of the planets. Each of them had storied names that I, like most humans of our day, had consigned to legend: Saturn, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Mercury, Pluto, Neptune, Uranus, Ceres … and Earth.

CHAPTER 38

“We must stay with the Zang,” Phutes protested. He had hoped never to have to speak again with any of the humans. Special Envoy Melarides waited in the corridor, with every appearance of patience. The rest of their siblings removed themselves as far from the humans as possible. Phutes was reminded once again of their terrible smell as well as the disgusting way their flesh quivered.

“We promised,” Sofus said. “Ignore the aesthetics. Remember. It is a matter of honor. We swore that when we reached this place, we would allow this one and her staff to speak with us. If we can obtain our ends by speaking, it would be all the better. Remember, we have not yet made Low Zang promise to help us.”

Phutes eyed the humans.

“It is an unpleasant prospect.”

“Yesa would not have sent us if she didn’t believe we were capable of putting aside our own feelings in the greater cause,” Sofus said. Mrdus only nodded. He was too wary of the bright-colored guns carried by the uniformed humans behind the diplomatic staff. None of them wanted to be sprayed again. Phutes was certain that some of the horrible organic matter was still lodged in his tissues.

“I don’t like it,” Phutes said. He kicked NR-111. “Tell her that we don’t like being locked up only to be allowed out at the humans’ pleasure.”

The hoots and burps that the translator emitted were received by the envoy with a bow.

“We regret that concerns for your siblings’ safety and comfort demanded that we place the Kail in this environment, Phutes,” Melarides said. “But you three have been granted a signal honor. Except for Dr. Derrida, no other beings have been singled out by the Zang for personal interaction. Your wristbands,” she pointed to the metal hoops that encircled their wrists, “have been encoded so you can pass wherever it goes.”

“That is true,” Sofus said.

The envoy held out her hand, careful not to come within range of actually touching Phutes.

“Please, come with me now. We would like to get to know you better, and to discuss matters of mutual interest to our peoples.”

“I don’t know whether I trust her,” Phutes said.

“Yesa wants it,” Sofus reminded him. “Melarides speaks for humankind. If she agrees to what Yesa demands, we have won, without having to convince Low Zang. Melarides wants to give humankind and all those other carbon-based beings a chance to survive.”

“Plan 10 is to get the Zang to listen to our plea and accede to it,” Mrdus pointed out. “Plan 01 was always to try and convince the humans directly.”

Phutes relented. The envoy, showing the calcium-based ridge most of them concealed behind rotting fleshy flaps, directed them out of the main chamber and into one of a series of smaller rooms. This one had opaque walls, a fact that worried Phutes.

“We cannot see the others.”

“They are safe,” Melarides said. She held a square of silicon and metal toward him. “You can watch them on my viewpad, if you like.” She touched the glass sheet, and an image of the Kail rose from it. All but Fovrates wandered aimlessly through their chamber. Some bathed. Some stared up at the dome. Some communed by leaning against one another in the broad container of silicon powder provided for their use. “Please, come sit down.”

She went to the slab of stone propped on metal legs. Soft, squishy chairs, like the flesh of humans themselves, were arranged on one side. A broad bench of black stone lay on the other.

“That is acceptable,” Sofus said. He strode over and arranged his abdomen over the backless block. Mrdus huddled next to him, as though for protection. Phutes chose to take his place opposite the envoy.

“May we offer you refreshments?” she asked. She gestured to her aide, the male human. He brought metal bowls forward and placed them in front of the Kail. “Pure water and refined gold dust. Very conductive. We understand that you prize such things.”

“We do,” Sofus said, placing one of his fists in the bowl nearest him. “You have known this already.”

“Yes,” Melarides said, settling her hands on the table as refreshments suitable for humans were set out. “I just want to get to know you. The spectacle will begin shortly, so I thought this was an opportune time.”

She burbled and squeaked along for a while. Phutes sat only half listening. He sampled the containers himself. The minerals in the bowls were as pure as anything that he had ever experienced. The particles worked their way into his system in a pleasurable fashion. He wondered if Yesa herself had ever had accreted as much gold as this.

“Is any of what she is saying important?” he asked NR-111 when the envoy paused for breath.

“Most of it is common courtesies,” the translator said. “I have been replying on your behalf with facts that you have stated in the past.”

“Good.”

“… Wait,” NR-111 said. “This is a new question. Melarides is good at asking questions.”

“Tell me about your family,” the envoy said, with a smile. She leaned forward, thrusting her soft face closer to Phutes. He had the stone table between them, so he only recoiled a little.

“My siblings and I rest on our mother’s bosom,” Phutes said.

“How many siblings have you got?” she pressed. “I see that there are nearly forty of you here. It must be a large family! How many are there?”

Phutes had that figure at his fist’s end, and expressed it in good binary. Properly, the number took a long time to say. The translator shortened it into the uncouth combination that humans were capable of understanding. Melarides listened patiently.

“That sounds like the entire population of a planet,” she said, with a noise that the translator rendered as a friendly laugh. “I have 1101 cousins, and 11 brothers.” Her command of the proper tongue was not as atrocious as most, though still somewhat nauseating.

“I prefer if you translate her words from the human, instead of letting her destroy our language,” Phutes said. NR-111 conveyed the meaning to Melarides.

She approved that. The others moved their flabby hands over the silicon and metal sheets. The sheets must have cringed to have so much organic matter slimed over them. Phutes said so.

One of the envoy’s staff, a pale-skinned male, emitted a harsh noise. He stood up. “You are offensive. Anyone can tell that you have no experience in complex negotiations.”

Phutes bristled. “You wished this meeting. Listen to my words or leave.”

“How dare you speak to me that way?”

The guards took a few steps nearer, leveling their weapons on the Kail.

“And, those!” Phutes said, pointing at the guards. “Are we equals or enemies?”

“You are equals,” Melarides said, soothingly. “I was wrong to include them. They should not be in here while we converse.” She turned to the uniformed humans. “Please step outside. We will call you if you are needed, but you won’t be.”

“Are you sure, ma’am?”

Melarides showed her oral calcium ridge again. “Yes, I am. We are having a peaceful discussion. We want to come to an agreement between equals. Thank you.”

With open reluctance, the guards departed, taking with them the angry human. Phutes approved. The envoy was biddable. Maybe a warning would
not
have to be sent to humankind.

“You are interested in our tablets and pocket secretaries,” she said, offering the glass slab again. Phutes showed assent. He slid it toward him and regarded it with approval. The conductive qualities allowed him to manipulate the image without possessing fingers.

“They are like us, proper mineral beings. Like 111.”

“Like seven? Oh, you mean your translator. Yes. She is a good employee. We appreciate her service. Please, let us continue our discussion. Tell me about your family. Have you parents?”

“Yesa is my only parent,” Phutes said. “I speak for her.”

“Your motherworld, yes.” Melarides looked pleased. “Well, when we form a relationship with our neighbors, we offer what we have and hope to find a medium of exchange suitable to both parties. We have many exports that might interest you, that are made of good minerals. You show approval for the gold dust. We have others that we hope will be acceptable to you as well. Refineries in our space find these ores and purify them until we have blocks of single minerals. Some of those have provided your meals during your travel here. We were glad to provide them. We hope you found them to your liking.”

“Adequate,” Phutes said. “Lacking complex flavor, but adequate. My siblings agree.” Sofus and Mrdus honked their assent. Melarides looked discomfited.

“Is that so? We wanted to present you with purified minerals without any taint of organic compounds.”

“We prefer to absorb combinations,” Phutes said. “Our bodies need certain minerals to maintain health.”

“As do ours,” the envoy said.

“We don’t care about that,” Phutes said. Melarides did not bore him further with facts about humans.

“We know so little about your physiology, Phutes. We wish we knew more. If you would tell our chefs what comestible minerals you prefer, we would be happy to make those combinations available. We only wanted to show you what we were capable of doing with minerals, how we respect every rock and stone that is in your systems, throughout all of Kail space.”

“That is good,” Phutes said. He found it difficult to relax in the presence of so much slime, so many bodies, in such a small space. They encroached upon him. He kept Yesa’s words in mind. It sounded as though they had taken to their squishy souls the terms that she hoped they would. “We want you to respect our worlds. They are sovereign entities. You must embrace their integrity.”

“We do!” Melarides said, soothingly. “We do not want to do anything on your worlds that you don’t want us to.”

“Good. We are agreed on that.” Phutes did find himself relaxing. This diplomacy was not so difficult after all. Yesa would be pleased with him.

Melarides put her squashy hands together and pushed her face in his direction. Phutes could not help himself flinching away.

“Excellent! With that agreement in mind, Phutes, I wanted to broach the subject, one that is very dear to our Emperor’s heart. In fact, it is a matter that is of deep interest to many concerns in the Imperium.”

Phutes felt so confident that Yesa would get her wish of solitude that he was willing to listen to almost any nonsense that the humans cared to spout.

“What is it?”

The fleshy mouth opened, revealing the wet and soggy red protuberance that so horrified him. It waggled and emitted noises. The translator beside him took her hums and squeaks and rendered them into words.

“We would like to come to some kind of agreement with you to exploit mineral rights in Kail space.”

Phutes tried to make the words translate into some kind of comprehensible combination, but he couldn’t. He turned to NR-111.

“What does that mean?” he asked. Melarides seemed puzzled, until the translator asked for clarification.

The lines across the top of her face moved upward.

“It means that the Imperium would like to
mine
on your worlds, Phutes.” She pulled another one of the glass slabs toward her and caused a three-dimensional image to rise before her, a starscape of familiar orbs. Several of them lit up with bright white outlines. “We have identified numerous bodies within Kail space that are rich in rare earths, ores that appear in too few places in Imperium territory. We want to extract those deposits from the rock in which they are buried and make use of them in industry, medicine, advances in science. In exchange, we would be willing to offer you technology that would make your lives much more comfortable. You could be connected to our Infogrid and have access to the communication systems of our entire section of the galaxy. For example, we have numerous offerings of artistic programming, such as music and dance … . What’s the matter, Phutes?”

Phutes had stopped listening at the words “extract those deposits.” He stared at Melarides.

“You want to do
what
?” he demanded. “How?”

“Mining,” the envoy said, making that strange mouth gesture again. “It would involve the removal, crushing and processing of ores from bodies we have identified in Kail space. Most of them are asteroids and planetoids. Those are rich in the kind of rare earths that we need, Phutes. Spectroanalysis also shows us seams on the motherworlds that would be of immense value to both our peoples. I hope you will convey to Yesa and the other leaders of your kind how important this is to us …”

Phutes exploded out of his seat.

“Exploitation? What you are talking about is
murder
!”

Melarides looked confused. Phutes made for the exit, honking for his siblings. The others rose.

“Sofus! Summon Fovrates! These humans are more dire than we ever guessed! I must speak with the Zang
now
.”

The human and her associates leaped from their chairs and followed him.

“Please, NR-111, stop him! Don’t let him leave. What have I said?”

Loud noises erupted from outside the room. Phutes was afraid that all of the humans were standing out there, ready to attack him, but he didn’t care. The vessel under his feet began to rock crazily. He clawed his way toward the door. Sofus galloped forward, Mrdus clinging to him, and went to Phutes’s aid. He hammered at the door.

The slim translatorbot put on a burst of speed and arrived at Phutes’s side before he reached the exit. The human diplomats caught up and surrounded him in a ring of jelly-like flesh and the smell of effluvia. The servicebot flashed several lights, drawing his attention to her.

“Please explain, Phutes,” she said. “The envoy doesn’t mean to offend you. She doesn’t understand. Neither do I. Please explain. Why is it murder? What will mining of asteroids kill?”

Phutes glared at the translator.

“They are not asteroids, they are my cousins!” he said. Acid roiled in his system, threatening to eat deeper grooves into his flesh than ever.

“How can they be your cousins?” NR-111 said, in a gentle tone. “Do you assign names to these planetoids? Is it a matter of religious significance? The envoy will understand if this is the case. The Imperium has made exceptions over the millennia for territory that has sacred meaning to various sects.”

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