The View from the Imperium (41 page)

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Authors: Jody Lynn Nye

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

BOOK: The View from the Imperium
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Ah. It must be something about the pirate fleet. I smiled. I had shined in that event. I had nothing to worry about, then.

“It is still spotty,” Mother said. “I wish there had been more definite data.”

Spotty? How could it be spotty? They had captured the main ship, which led them to the rest. Case closed, or so I would have thought.

It seemed that Parsons agreed. I could almost hear the shrug, not that Parsons would perform a gesture as casual as a shrug. “Mr. Frank is satisfied. We must interpret as best we can. The sender was clearly in great peril. It is not the information we were waiting for, but must be investigated as to whether to bring greater Imperium resources than your fleets to bear.”

Imperium resources? Greater than the Navy? I strained to hear more.

“I fear you are right,” Mother said. “We need further information. That must be your task.” His task. I realized I did not truly know what Parsons did when he was not accompanying me on diplomatic missions. What hidden depths had he beyond the ones of which I already knew? And who was Mr. Frank? I had never met anyone of that name.

“Yes, madam. It is my task.” His voice had a point to it. There was a distinct pause.

“Come in, Thomas,” Mother said, without raising her voice. “You are involved in this.”

“I am?” I squeaked, my voice completely forgetting that I had exited adolescence years before.

The door swung open, and both of them stood in its frame, looking at me. I scrambled to my feet. Mother beckoned me in. I loped behind them, awkward as a newborn colt. Parsons closed the door behind us with a boom like the doomsday knell. Guilt rode me like an albatross.

She and Parsons were alone, no other Space Lords, no LAI, no aides, no other officers. That in itself was uncanny, for as a superior minister to the Imperium, she was always surrounded by advisors and others poised to take her orders. This must be serious indeed. But why include me in such a conference?

Mother’s office was as quietly elegant as herself. Every element she had incorporated into the venerable chamber of the First Space Lord complemented the historical trappings already there, but somehow made one think. The walls of ruddy wood were covered with pictures, holographs and actual paintings of previous holders of the office, many Loches and Kinagos among them, plus framed medals, images of worlds conquered or saved and a handsome portrait of the emperor himself. In it, Shojan was smiling. The pose was a personal favor to my mother, whom he liked and admired. As who would not? I put on a confident and easy smile.

“Good morning, Mother,” I said. “Good morning, Parsons. I . . . er . . . am I disturbing you?”

“Not at all, my dragonlet,” Mother said, briskly. “You have come at an opportune time. I was reviewing images you took while you were on Smithereen. As you might have seen from your spying.” She glanced at Parsons, and I realized that he had detected the Optique, undoubtedly by means of his ability to look through walls and read the minds of men. Guiltily, I beckoned the small camera to hover at my shoulder. If a nonsentient device could look abashed, my Optique did.

“Oh, well, I didn’t mean . . . it’s not really
spying
. . . I mean, I just wanted to know . . . to make certain I wouldn’t be intruding,” I stammered. “I know how busy you are . . . I’m always happy to help in any way, if I can.”

“You
can
help,” Mother said. “I would appreciate it if you would.” She waved a hand toward the image. “Tell me about this.” I examined it closely. The spacescape looked familiar. The circumstances of its capture came rolling back to me in a wave. I rocked back on my heels, happy to provide the memory.

“It is one of the shots I took in the landing bay while I was reviewing the Smithereen militia,” I said. “You must go back to about three earlier in the sequence, where I am marching down in between the two files of soldiers. You can’t see any of us in this picture. They array themselves for disappointment, Mother. You should really look into allowing a trifle more time for visiting diplomats to interact with the volunteers. They are so grateful, you would be astonished . . .”

“Focus, my boy,” Mother said, reining me in. “This isn’t the time for tangents. This is the one we are interested in, it and the two that followed, at the angle you took them. What made you choose this image to preserve?”

“The meteors. I considered them to be an omen, you see,” I said, a trifle sheepishly. I knew Parsons didn’t believe in esoterica. My mother considered superstitions to be childish, but she indulged me. “A meteor shower, on the occasion of my first outing as an officer of the Imperium Navy? It was like a galactic benison upon my head. I wanted to record it.”

“A meteor shower would rain downward, my lord,” Parsons said. “But as such it would not be possible for such an effect to be visible on Smithereen Prime at all because the atmosphere is too thin at ground level, let alone at that altitude, to burn up space debris that falls into its gravitational field.”

“I knew that,” I said at once. “It occurred to me later on, but it was still such a vivid image, three bright streaks in the sky. And it is, as you see. I suppose in light of the subsequent events I lost interest as to what it really was.”

“So you took these on a whim?” Mother asked, getting back to the point. “It was pure chance?”

“I suppose so,” I said. They seemed a bit downcast about it. “Why? If they weren’t meteors, what were they?”

For answer, Mother beckoned at the display. The three scratches of light grew and took on detail until I could readily discern that they were contrails. The ships that produced them, upon their takeoff from a mass not far from Smithereen Prime, were tiny pinpoints that increased in size until they were identifiable by both type and hull marking.

“Trade Union,” I exclaimed.

Of all the interstellar consortia and federations that humanity and its fellow spacefarers had founded over the last ten or so millennia, the Trade Union was the one with which the Imperium had had the most difficult relationship. Founded from a loose association of merchants, traders and, yes, pirates, the TU lay side by side with the Imperium, its explorers vying with our explorers for viable planets, natural resources, and trade routes. The last battle, begun thirty years ago, had had a treaty signed to end it six years later, but it was more or less still going on. Small sallies against one consortium’s bases or another, the destruction of border beacons, poaching on rich mining fields such as that of Smithereen, were all typical. Needless to say, the incursions went both ways, but in defense of the Imperium, our forces usually struck back. They seldom began a fight.

“What are they doing there?”

“They are certainly trespassing,” Mother said. “We can’t confirm where they went after they left Smithereen. Their energy trails were wiped out by that ion storm that the Red Fleet sought to avoid. It rather looks as if those three ships flew directly into it. Such a tactic suggests that secrecy was more important than their lives.”

“Where did they go?”

“We are afraid that they were bound for the Castaway Cluster. It is a group of eight small stars deeper toward the heart of the galaxy.” She nodded. “I see you have heard of it.”

“Well, not until recently. My friends on Smithereen said that they were expecting a lot of business as ships plied the space lanes in between the Core Worlds and the Cluster, but they were disappointed in their hopes. They built a good deal of infrastructure in expectation of that business.”

“The hotel that you wrecked, for example?” Mother asked. I opened my mouth to protest, but she waved a hand. I subsided. If I wanted to find out what the two of them had been murmuring about, it was best to let her petty quips pass. I nodded. “Smithereen is about five ultra-drive hops from the Cluster. To have detected the TU ships at all was remarkable. It may be the most important thing you did.”

“Thank you,” I said modestly, though I was delighted. “It was an accident.”

“An accident that came about by being aware of your surroundings,” Parsons said. “You could easily have missed the event, but you did not. Well done.”

I wriggled all over like a puppy. “I say, Parsons, too much praise and I’ll be spoiled for life.”

I was met by a blank look. “I fear it is far too late for that, sir.”

Ah, well, Parsons will be Parsons. “You said, er, when I was not in the room that you were hoping for greater confirmation on the presence of the ships in Smithereen space. If you need to confirm to anyone that they were taken because of my observation, please do. I will back up your assertion with all my heart.”

Mother shook her head. “We are the only people who require confirmation, my dragonlet, and I concur with Parsons that something caught your attention and you captured it, for whatever reason. It was a lucky shot, but you have been of great help to the Imperium.”

I could tell that my eyes lit up by the alarmed look on my maternal unit’s face. But I persisted, because I saw an opening for my suit to be reinstated. “Then may I put my case? It is why I have come this morning.” Mother’s eyebrow went up. Parsons, as always, was expressionless. I pressed on. “I have had a while to think about my situation. I truly enjoyed my time of service. You have told me all of my life that I am descended from countless men and women who put their lives on the lines to protect the Imperium. I am prepared to do that, Mother. I do not make this offer lightly. I could be of great use to the Navy. I felt that I fit in well—with one notable exception, I admit,” I added, to forestall the obvious protest. “The camaraderie of my shipmates was a refreshing revelation to me. I felt myself to be a part of the crew. We formed a bond that would have seen us through any number of difficult missions. I felt needed. That was a rare moment in my life. I am willing to go back. I offer myself as an eager recruit. Please, Mother. Give me another chance. Admiral Podesta has said he would prefer that I not return to the Red Fleet. There was a personality mismatch between us, and I admit that it was my doing that got us off on the wrong foot. I would never do that again. But you have four other fleets, Mother. Surely there is another ship in one of them that would take me. Your own, cherished second son. One little, unremarkable cruiser? One exploration vessel? One scout ship that would benefit from the sincere toil that I would put in aboard her?”

She looked at Parsons. “Well, well. Shall I follow the old maxim, and send the fool of the family to sea?” She did not wait for an answer, as her statement sounded rhetorical, as well as a bit insulting. She turned back to me. “No. I’m sorry, my boy. That was a most eloquent statement, and I have no doubt heartfelt, but it just would not work.”

I was crestfallen. I had been so certain that she would agree! “But I could be an asset!”

She exchanged, yet again, another of those enigmatic glances with Parsons. “And so you shall, Thomas, if you really want to.”

Her obduracy was softening. I knew it would! “I do. I had no notion what it felt like until now to do something that mattered.”

“Then you can be part of the team that investigates the very anomaly that you recorded.”

“Shall I be an ensign again, or will I have to begin again in the ranks?”

“It is not a Navy mission at all,” Parsons said.

“Then, who? I heard a name bandied about, Mr. Frank. Who is he?”

“You will not mention Mr. Frank outside of this office,” Parsons said. “He is the chief officer of the Imperium’s Covert Service Operation.”

“Really?” I asked. “I have heard rumors, but none of us really knows anything more.”

“That is because it is a secret, my lord. You should not know of us unless you run afoul of the service. Ideally, even then it should look as if another agency is involved.”

My ears perked up. “Us? You are a member? How long? What else have you done?”

“That is need-to-know only, my lord.”

I felt a thrill race down my back. “Tell me more,” I urged them. “Do you have to swear me to secrecy? Take a blood oath?”

“Do you require one, my lady?” Parsons asked. “I can obtain a razor and a carafe.”

I made a face at him. “Ha ha,” I laughed hollowly, my face drawn into disapproving lines, then I shot a suspicious glance at my mother. “He is making a joke at my expense, isn’t he? There is no blood oath?”

“We’ll waive it,” my mother said, flicking a hand. “For now. I will go on your word, son. It has always been good,
when
it is given.”

I blushed at that, knowing how many times she had not asked for my word, and I had considered myself free to disobey the house rules. But when offered, it was always kept. I straightened my back and looked directly into her eyes. “I pledge my word of honor that I will not reveal to anyone anything you tell me is confidential, not even if my life is threatened.”

“That will do,” Mother said, with a smile. She returned to her chair and clasped her hands upon her desk. Parsons took his place beside her, a pose he had taken many times over my life. He looked natural there, a paragon and a protector of one of my most precious people. I was rather proud of the alliteration, and thought of declaiming it, but the moment was too serious. I had just been offered a purpose, and wished to give no reason for it to be withdrawn. “Sit down, Thomas. It will take some time to explain what we want of you. Do you want a drink?”

“No, thank you, Mother.” My nerves were coping with a surge of adrenaline the likes of which I had not experienced since the pirate captain fired a round past my ear. I beckoned to a chair at the side of the room. It rolled out to me, as eager to be of service as I was. I perched on the edge of its seat.

“There has been no communication from the Castaway Cluster for some months now,” Mother said. “Emperor Shojan wants to reestablish relations so that we can expand into the space beyond it. Up until now it has been less than a priority.”

“For which I read not profitable,” I said with a narrowed and summing eye.

“A pithy but not entirely inaccurate statement, my lord,” Parsons said. I wriggled like a puppy to get another fact right. He gave me a bland look that reminded me I was in a serious briefing, but it was hard to remain neutral of face in a secret conference that was of vital interest to the Imperium. I did my best. I echoed Parsons’s expression. He gave me a look that could have been approval or disdain, and continued. “There have been few reasons in recent decades to exploit the star cluster. Its distance, coupled with the presence of the black hole between the last outpost of the active Imperium and the Cluster—”

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