Death to the Imperium (Imperium Cicernus) (12 page)

“Simple.
I want you to report everything to the Senate.” Ozytan beamed; he could tell
that his words had surprised them. “Yes, indeed. At first, when the
acceleration was in process, I went to great lengths to ensure that the
procedure was not interrupted—including destroying any ships that came near.”

Doland
looked puzzled. Was Ozytan really going to let them go after telling them all
of his plans? Why would he want the Grand Senate to know about his scheme?
Surely it was some sort of trap.

“I
want you to tell them all about my plan, and I want them to realise that the
inexorable march of the Weerms cannot be prevented. They do not injure, or
tire, or feel. They are unstoppable, and I want my brother—along with the rest
of the Senate—to know that control of the Imperium will shortly be taken from them.”

Alyce
exchanged a glance with Glitz. Ozytan pointed to the door. “What are you
waiting for? Off you go. Tell the Senate everything you have seen here.”

Frowning,
Tekka stood up, and the others followed. Edging carefully past the terrible
Weerms, they left the conference room, and stepped off the ship back into the chaotic
dust.

“Well,
looks like we know where we’re going next,” Alyce said. “Let’s go back to
Lightworld.”

They
returned to the ship—despite Glitz and Doland’s protestations that they should
look for more precious stones—and Alyce programmed in their return flight path.
The
Wreck
lifted back into the air. As they broke out of the atmosphere
of Chaos, there was another disturbance on the chronometer.

Doland
felt something warm in his pocket. He stuck in his hand, and realised with
dismay that his precious stones had turned to dust, and so had Tekka’s.

“It
was to be expected,” Tekka said. “The artificial time field is too
destabilising; objects cannot be taken off the planet without prior
stabilisation. Weren’t you listening to Ozytan?”

Tekka
scowled, feeling cheated. He would have been able to buy so much with those
jewels… He returned to his bunk, closed his eyes, and tried to sleep. Alyce
stayed on the flight deck, staring out at the stars, and thinking about the
dreadful Weerms.

Lightworld

Volori
System

The
arrival of their ship to Lightworld caused some consternation. When they
approached the strange planet, the protection forces on Lightworld went into
full alert, ready to shoot down the bizarre ship. It didn’t look like a threat,
but it was a historic tactic to hide powerful weaponry in a seemingly innocuous
ship, allowing it to get near to its target without raising alarm. The First
Naval Lord himself was notified that an unidentified ship was in the vicinity
of the planet, and asked for permission to destroy it.

But,
at that moment, Alyce finally managed to make a successful communication with the
planet. The communicator on the
Wreck
had been malfunctioning, and they
had not been able to contact Lightworld or respond to their commands to
identify themselves.

“Do
not fire!” Alyce said urgently. “I repeat: do not fire! This is Captain Alyce
Wickham, serving under the direct orders of the First Naval Lord. Do not fire!”

There
was a pause, and Alyce held her breath. The men were clenching their fists,
sweating. If they didn’t believe her identity…

“Permission
granted for landing, Captain,” the voice said. “Come on down.”

Alyce
exhaled slowly, cursing herself for not keeping the Beetle. She was almost
certainly going to be in trouble for causing such alarm. Not only that, she had
traded away Imperial property. She couldn’t help feeling some trepidation, but
she managed to keep her emotions in check and made a successful landing on the
planet’s surface.

They
stepped out of the
Wreck
, and looked around at the planet. Alyce rarely
got a chance to see the exterior of the planet up close; members of the Navy
ranking lower than admiral were rarely required to visit Lightworld. As
directed, she had landed the ship in a white circle many miles away from the
main “city”, a security precaution because the ship was unknown. The planet’s
curious atmosphere meant that the sky was a dull sepia colour, and the white
terrain was perfectly level. In the distance, Alyce could see some of the
maze-like structures that spread all across the planet, almost forming a circuit-board
pattern. The air was perfectly still, and seemed oddly artificial—it was like
breathing from an oxygen tank.

After
they had waited outside the ship for a few moments, a roaring sound filled the
air, increasing in intensity. Some sort of vehicle was heading in their
direction. As it came closer, Alyce saw that it was a standard levitating buggy.
It stopped at the ship, and an officer got off it, saluting to Alyce. It was Midshipman
Barnes, the man that had accompanied her to Lightworld.

“Good
to see you, Midshipman,” Alyce said, secretly relieved that it was no one more
senior. It meant that she might not be in so much trouble after all.

“Likewise,
Captain,” Midshipman Barnes said, smiling. He gestured to the buggy. “Please
have a seat. I’ll take you straight to the Admiralty Board.”

They
climbed into the buggy, which began to move again. Tekka stared out of the
window, trying to observe as much as possible. Information about the planet was
scarce, because no one except trusted members of the Navy and a few other privileged
people were ever allowed near it.

The
buggy reached the building after a short ride. It was an imposing building
carved from white stone. The shape was almost a pyramid. Tekka knew from their
last visit to Lightworld that miles of catacombs lied beneath the structure,
spreading out under the ground like the roots of some great tree.

“Follow
me, Captain,” Midshipman Barnes said, leading Captain Wickham and the others
towards the building.

***

The
full Admiralty Board was in session. Thirty officers sat at the sparkling black
table, dressed in full ceremonial robes, their faces grave. They were talking
in low voices, but fell silent when Alyce and her three companions were brought
in. Admiral Andronica, wearing his gold-buttoned uniform, frowned when he saw
what they were wearing. He didn’t think much to leather clothing.

“Welcome,”
the First Naval Lord said. He managed to smile, but his face was serious. “Please
say that you can enlighten us, Captain Wickham.”

“I
can,” Alyce said simply. “But I fear that you will not like the truth.”

The
First Naval Lord waved a hand. “Be frank and precise. Hold no piece of
information back. Tell us your full report.”

“Very
well.”

Alyce
proceeded to relate their entire experience from the moment of leaving the
spaceport. She briefly told the Board about their purchase of the scrapyard
ship from the Stolnites, and the visit to Clothes Direct, before moving on to
the main body of the report. She told them, with a slight tremor in her voice,
about their arrival on Chaos, including the dreadful creatures they witnessed
there. Finally, lowering her voice slightly, she told the First Naval Lord and
the rest of the admirals about their meeting with the Emperor’s brother Ozytan,
and about his terrible plan regarding the Weerms.

When
Alyce had finished the report, the First Naval Lord had turned very pale. He
fixed his eyes on Alyce, his face softening a little. “You have been
exceptionally brave, Captain Wickham, not to mention cunning and resourceful.
The idea of purchasing the scrapyard ship, and the Proteist disguises, was
masterful… masterful…”

A
few heads nodded in quiet agreement, and Alyce felt herself colouring a little
from pride.

“And
you three,” the First Naval Lord said, turning to Glitz, Doland and Tekka. “Very,
very well done.”

Glitz
smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

The
First Naval Lord was terrified after learning of Ozytan’s plan. But his
feelings would not prevent him from showing due gratitude to those that had
brought him the information. Glitz, Tekka and Doland—as well as receiving full
pardons from the Senate—were given a reward of fifty thousand credits each, and
Captain Wickham was given two months involuntary paid leave—despite her
protestations—to recover from her ordeal. If there was a war looming, she
wanted to fight! She didn’t want to be hidden away on some leisure planet, away
from the action. But the First Naval Lord waved away her assertions, pointing
out that she was not experienced in actual warfare. The Captain was convinced that
the First Naval Lord’s attitude was because she was a woman, but she didn’t
dare argue further.

After
they had politely thanked the First Naval Lord for his kindness, they left the Admiralty
Board Room and stood outside the white structure, waiting for Midshipman
Barnes. The Midshipman arrived, and took them back to their ship in the buggy.

Captain
Alyce Wickham got out of the buggy with Glitz and the others, and bowed
courteously.

“Thank
you for your role in this mission,” she said formally. “You can be sure that
your assistance is most appreciated by the Imperium.” She paused, and a
slightly more human edge crept into her voice. “So… I guess this is it.”

“I
guess so,” Glitz replied. “Here—you’d better have my contact chip.”

Doland
and Tekka said nothing; they simply waited by the
Wreck
, eager to leave
the planet before the First Naval Lord could change his mind and revoke their
pardon.

“Right,”
Alyce said, coughing. “Well… goodbye, Harlan Glitz.”

Glitz
might have imagined it, but it almost seemed like a surge of tenderness rushed
through her face. But she quickly turned, got back into the buggy, and drove
back to the building with Midshipman Barnes. Glitz felt a sense of regret as
she drove away, but knew deep down that their parting was inevitable. They were
from different worlds. Alyce had all the admirable qualities—bravery, responsibility,
patriotism. Glitz felt that he would never be able to measure up to such a
woman.

He
smiled weakly at Doland. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Finally,”
Doland said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s get away from here.”

Without
looking back, Glitz climbed into the
Wreck
with Doland and Tekka, and
they made a speedy take-off. Within a few minutes, the planet Lightworld was
simply a speck on the long-distance scanner. Glitz felt sure that he would
never see Alyce Wickham ever again. He didn’t realise that he would be meeting
her again very soon indeed.

Chamber
of Stars

Ropeville

Politic
System

Ropeville
was the home of the Chamber of Stars, the Imperial Parliament. The Imperium was
essentially an autocracy, a dictatorship presided over by a ruling body, the
Grand Senate. However, there were times when the Emperor needed to call a full
Parliament. Of course, the Grand Senate without exception were the real
orchestrators of such events; the Emperor had no real personal power. If an Emperor
called for a full session of the Chamber of Stars, it generally meant that the
Senate either wanted to raise taxes or raise a larger army. In this instance, the
Senate wanted to do the former.

Emperor
Ferdinand was sitting in his golden throne at the head of the Parliament,
waiting for all of the Planetary Ambassadors to arrive. Behind him, on rows of
golden benches, sat the real figures of power—the members of the Senate. There
were thousands of semi-autonomous planets in the Imperium, and each of these
planets had at least one official representative in Parliament. The poor
worlds, such as those on the Rim, or those with a majority alien population,
were not permitted to be a member of the Chamber of Stars. On the whole, while
the more favoured planets were allowed a degree of autonomy when managing their
own affairs, the Grand Senate (using the Emperor as a puppet and mouthpiece, of
course) had the only real power in the Imperium. However, the Senate did not
have the power to raise taxes above a yearly increase of 4%. Unusual
circumstances called for additional parliamentary agreement. In this instance,
the Senate needed to charge all member planets of the Imperium a one-off tax,
in order to fund a possible war.

The
Chamber of Stars was a grand place, both in terms of scale and style. The
ceiling was cavernous, and everything was coated in gold or silver. Representatives
from each planet sat in separate gilded “boxes”, which moved around in a
constant orbit around the room, ensuring that no ambassadors could get the
impression that they were in a position of lesser or greater prestige in
relation to the other members.

All
around the chamber, the ambassadors took their places. The Emperor watched as
the main representative of Alpha Centauri made her way into her seat. She was a
beautiful mixed-race woman—half-human and half-Pixie. The event of a mixed-race
person being elected to such a high office seemed to many to be an encouraging
sign of improving relations with alien races. To others, it was a terrible
crime to put such an abomination in a position of power. Within a few minutes,
everyone was seated.

“Welcome,”
the Emperor said.

He
began to make the formal parliamentary introductions. It was a somewhat tedious
process, but it was a necessary formality. Then he moved on to the list of
issues brought forward by several planets. It seemed ridiculous to spend almost
an hour discussing shipping disputes, galactic boundaries, the rudeness of Stolnites,
and other minor issues, when there was the vital matter of defending the Imperium
against its enemies to be discussed. But the Imperium was founded on centuries
of unchanged ritual, and Emperor Ferdinand knew the importance of respecting
tradition.

Finally,
when all decisions regarding the trivial issues had either been resolved or postponed
for further deliberation in another session, the Emperor began to tell the
gathered ambassadors about the great danger posed by his brother, Ozytan. He
held no detail back from the representatives; as members of the Imperium, they
had a right to know everything. Of course, his words were not his own; the
entire speech had been drawn up by the Senate. When he had finished the
story—which had been interspersed with shocked exclamations—a terrible silence
fell over the Chamber.

“And
now, my friends, I must ask a great thing of you,” the Emperor concluded. “You
must vote to donate to the Imperium a one-off payment of 5% A.P.G, to be paid
in addition to your yearly tax amount. I understand that this is a lot to ask
for, but I hope you will agree that my request matches the magnitude of the
danger.”

The
majority of the ambassadors did not need to think about the Emperor’s request. Many
of them felt a great sense of pride at being part of the Imperium, which was
founded on noble traditions. Even those who disliked the Imperium did not want
to be conquered by a species as hellish as the Weerms. The members from the
planet Nortan—a planet which was notorious as a seat of radical views—actually
agreed with Ozytan’s motives. The idea of a democratic Imperium run entirely as
a republic, without a single ruling figure, was very attractive to them.
However, they could not support Ozytan’s actions. The idea of forcibly evolving
a creature of pure evil was abhorrent to them, and they voted in support of Emperor
Ferdinand, despite their liberal leanings.

The
Emperor felt a wave of relief when there was overwhelming support for the
Senate’s request.

“Thank
you, my friends,” the Emperor said. “Thank you.”

Of
course, the Emperor had no real power; he was simply a figurehead for the
dictatorship of the Senate. He had brought the proposition before the Chamber
of Stars because of the direct orders of the Senate; he could initiate no
original motions of his own design. But Emperor Ferdinand had no wish to defy
the Senate; he was happy to respect the historic precedent of rulership by the
Grand Senate. His brother was the one who had always wished to rock the boat,
to implement pointless changes, to spark senseless revolution. But now they
would be able to raise an even mightier army to fight against Ozytan. Then his
rebellious brother would see the true might of the Imperium.

***

The
crew of the
Wreck
were heading towards the planet Necreon, a desert
world in the Gold Sector. Tekka would depart at Necreon, leaving Glitz and Doland
to travel back to the core worlds. Glitz didn’t know why Tekka wanted to go to
Necreon—the planet was little more than a giant shoreless beach, with extreme
temperatures and hardly any water. The planet was mostly inhabited by Stolnites,
another reason why Glitz wouldn’t go there personally. But Tekka, when questioned,
refused to explain why he wanted to be dropped off there.

“I
have my reasons,” he had replied simply.

They
reached Necreon in a matter of days. The ship felt somewhat empty without the
presence of Alyce, and Glitz found the journey tiresome. They tried to pass the
time by playing cards, drinking whisky, and watching old vidfilms, but it was
hard to be cooped up in such a small ship. Glitz felt very relieved when they
finally reached the planet.

“Excellent,”
Tekka said, as the planet came into view out of the window.

It
was a sand world, with a single small ocean on the northern hemisphere. It was
a dry, barren planet, but after experiencing Chaos, it seemed positively
hospitable. Tekka carefully landed the ship, and climbed out onto the desert.
The sun was hot and bright; behind heat haze, he could see a group of cloaked
Stolnites, sweeping the desert with metal detection sensors.

Glitz
and Doland followed Tekka out of the ship, and stared out at the sandy planet. If
there had been a nearby ocean, it might have seemed quite pleasant. But there
was no refreshing blue sea to provide contrast and relief—the landscape was
identical for miles around. Glitz was still wearing his leather ensemble from
the Proteist shop, and he felt himself beginning to sweat under the heat of the
sun.

“Well,”
Tekka said. “Now I leave you.”

He
shook hands unemotionally with Glitz and Doland. Glitz was surprised that he
actually felt a little regretful about leaving him. They had all been through a
lot together, and despite Tekka’s cold personality, he had found himself
warming to him.

“See
you,” Glitz said. “If you ever need anything, get in touch. Here’s my contact
chip.”

Tekka
nodded. “Thank you. Goodbye.”

Without
saying another word, Tekka turned and began to stroll north across the desert,
which was the opposite direction to where the Stolnites were headed. Glitz took
one last look at the unfruitful planet, then climbed back into the
Wreck
.

***

“Hydra
is now back in business,” Glitz said, grinning.

Using
the ship’s computer, he had accessed the Net and reactivated his callsign. The
Net was an anonymous data exchange which was loosely based around the ancient
network architecture known in some legends as the Internet. But the Net had the
advantage—or disadvantage, depending on your viewpoint—of being largely unrestricted
and untraceable. It enabled totally anonymous transfer of data, at least in
theory. In practice, there were still ways to track Net usage—if you were
clever enough. The Office for Public Morality, a prominent arm of the Imperium,
had several tricks up its sleeve when it came to monitoring Net use. However,
monitoring was expensive, and even the great Imperium did not have sufficient
resources to police all areas of the Net. Thus, before Glitz was arrested, he
had been active on the Net for years, arranging to pick up illegal goods in
addition to his official cargo.

“You’re
online again?” Doland said.

“Online
and ready to go.” A message popped up on the screen; someone was making an
incoming call—Glitz instantly recognised the callsign.

“Spaceman!”

“Hydra!”
The man that had appeared on the screen was balding and corpulent, but he had
an apparently cheery disposition. “I thought you were locked up for years!”

“I
escaped.”

“Escaped?
From Malus?”

“I
met a guy—a computer expert. Then after that…” Glitz stopped himself. He had
been about to tell Spaceman, which was the man’s net callsign, about his
mission for the Imperium. But he quickly remembered that the Emperor had made
them agree to keep the whole thing a secret. If people learned about the
Weerms, they might panic. “…so now I’m heading to Edo, to collect a few things.”

“Congratulations,
then! Want to make a little detour? I might have a job for you, if you’re
interested.”

“What
kind of job? Nothing illegal. I don’t want to get sent back to Malus.”

“No,
no, it’s nothing illegal, I promise you! Perhaps it involves…
bending
a
few laws.”

Glitz
frowned. He had known Spaceman for many years, although they had never actually
met in person. The man had contacts all over the galaxy, and always seemed to
find out if there was a money-making opportunity somewhere. However, he never
liked to get his own hands dirty. If there was a possible job, he would tell
someone else about it, taking a small commission for his troubles.

“What
job?” Glitz sighed.

“Just
a little one, just a little one! Word has it that a shipment of medical lasers
was sent to Hansea last week. Just a routine delivery, you know. The equipment
was sent to the Abigail Smythe Hospital on the planet, in fulfilment of an
order. But, for some reason, the lasers were recalled by the delivery company.
I expect there was some kind of mechanical fault with the equipment—something
trivial, you know.” Spaceman smiled, revealing a gold tooth among his white
teeth. “Of course, when the lasers are returned, they will probably be stripped
of their components, so no one is to profit from them as matters stand.”

“What
are you getting at?”

“Well,
if the lasers were to go… missing, would it be such a big deal? They’re only
faulty equipment after all. And no one would lose out—the insurance company
would cover the losses of the manufacturer.”

“I’m
not sure about this. How many lasers?”

“I
don’t know… maybe around a hundred? The thing is, these medical lasers contain Zirgotic
crystals, which I’m sure you know fetch up to ten thousand credits a piece. So
you stand to make a profit of—well, let me see now—around one million.”

Glitz
whistled through his teeth. It was certainly a lot of money. And the plan was
undeniably attractive. If everything went well, all he would need to do was
walk into the hospital, pick up the crate of medical lasers, and walk out
again. But a part of him was worried. He was very lucky to have not only
escaped from Malus, but also to have obtained a full pardon. If he was
sentenced again, there would be no Tekka to help him get free.

“I
can’t,” he said finally. “It’s a tempting offer, but I promised myself I’d
stick to legitimate cargoes from now on. I can’t risk going back to prison.”

“Wait
a minute,” Doland said, turning to Glitz. “I mean… one million credits? One
million credits for picking up some medical equipment?”

“For
stealing
some medical equipment,” Glitz replied.

Doland
shrugged. “We could do with the money.”

Glitz
frowned. He had to admit that the promise of such a great deal of money was
exciting. The First Naval Lord’s gift of fifty thousand credits had been
generous, but it would hardly last for long. And it was unlikely that he would
find a job again—at least not as a cargo trader. Criminal records could be
accessed by any potential employer.

“No
one will find out,” Spaceman said, wiping his sweaty brow with a handkerchief.
“The East Galaxy Company fulfils millions of orders every single day—they will
hardly pay much attention to a single missing shipment.”