Cluster Command: Crisis of Empire II (23 page)

Nola Rankoo was still alive, as was Cado, as was Merikur himself. While Merikur celebrated, the other two were locked up dirtside. The only thing that bothered him about that was the possibility that they might go free someday.

The room fell silent as someone tapped a spoon against crystal. Windsor stepped forward and raised his glass. He looked regal in his suit and formal cape. “Gentle beings . . . I’d like to propose a toast. To the gallant general and his lovely bride!”

“Hear, hear!” All over the wardroom glasses were raised to Merikur and Bethany.

As the noise died down, Merikur raised his glass and said, “To Governor Windsor, to his vision, and to those who died making it come true.”

The eyes of the two men met across the length of the room. An oath was taken and loyalty was offered and accepted, all without a word being spoken.

Meanwhile, the crowd went wild. “Speech! Speech!”

As the applause finally died away, Windsor stepped forward to look around the room. He allowed the moment to build until every eye in the room was on him. When he spoke, there was passion in his voice.

“Thanks to those gathered in this room and to those buried in the soil below, a new day has dawned. Not just on Teller, and not just for one race, but for every planet and sentient in the Harmony Cluster.”

Several started to cheer, but Windsor raised his hands for silence. “As we bury our dead, let us also bury the hate and fear which led to their deaths, and affirm the birth of something better. From this day forward, all the sentients within Harmony Cluster will be equal before the law, equally represented within government, and equally entitled to the protection of that government.”

This time the applause was deafening and continued on and on. When it finally died away a second time, Merikur found himself sharing in Windsor’s popularity as people came up to pound him on the back or shake his hand. He was too busy to notice the com tech step into the wardroom and talk to Tenly, or see Tenly whisper in Windsor’s ear, or watch as all three slip out of the room.

###

Half an hour later, Eitor and Jomu sidled up to Merikur wearing their upside down grins and Cernian finery, short jackets trimmed with gold brocade, and pleated skirts. “We’ve been summoned to the captain’s day cabin,” Eitor said. “Some kind of get together. You and Bethany are invited, as well.”

“So, are you coming peacefully, or must we use force?” Jomu asked, doing his best to look menacing.

Bethany laughed. “Peacefully, I think. We wouldn’t want to anger the dreaded Jomu.”

“A wise decision,” Jomu said, offering her his arm. “Here, you can walk with me, while Anson and Eitor attempt to hold each other up.”

Merikur was feeling a bit lightheaded as they walked towards the bridge. And why not? He’d been drinking, the war was over, and he’d won. Or so it seemed until they entered Yamaguchi’s day cabin, which looked as he’d seen it last, though considerably more crowded.

Yamaguchi was there with Von Oy, Tenly, Windsor and two aliens of a species Merikur hadn’t seen before. Both were tall, pale, and draped over with robes of cartilage. They looked like ghosts wearing shrouds of white. The aliens bowed as the foursome entered.

Merikur tried to clear his alcohol-fogged brain as he bowed in return. This was more than the private celebration he’d expected. Judging from the look on Windsor’s face, much more. Merikur straightened as the governor spoke.

“Ambassador Relfenzig, Subambassador Dolwinzer, I would like to introduce my niece, Bethany Windsor-Merikur; her husband, General Merikur; my principal political advisor, Eitor Senda; and his brother, Jomu Senda, a Commander in the Cernian Army.”

Because Relfenzig’s eyes were big and shiny and his face hung in long loose folds, he had what most humans would consider a sad, lugubrious look. His mouth was hidden behind a drapery of tissue so that when he spoke his voice was somewhat muffled. “It’s an honor to meet you, gentle beings. May the soil break softly before your plow.”

Windsor gestured towards the empty chairs crammed against one wall. “If you’ll find seats, I’d like to hold a short meeting. I’m sorry to pull you away from the party, but as you will see, this is something of an emergency.”

Merikur took a seat and accepted a cup of coffee from Yamaguchi. As he sipped, he wondered what was going on. Why were the aliens here?

Windsor stood and looked around the room. “Ambassador Relfenzig and Subambassador Dolwinzer bring us important news. They come from the planet Strya in the Apex Cluster. Though independent, Strya had benefit of Pact protection, but fell into arrears on its taxes. As a result, human administrators were appointed to run the planet’s economy and a force of human overseers was brought in to supervise production. I’ll let Ambassador Relfenzig tell you the rest in his own words.”

Ambassador Relfenzig stood and bowed formally. “What I say will sound like slander on your kind, and for that I apologize in advance, but Governor Windsor assures me I must tell the truth. And the truth is that with rare exceptions, the human overseers have been cruel to my people.

“Under their orders, all Stryans over the age of ten must work in the fields. Those caught hiding children or parents are killed. Each year, new quotas are announced and they are always higher. Failure to meet a quota means death for every fifth person in that particular village.”

“And unfortunately,” Dolwinzer added, “this has happened many times,”

“Most of us accepted the situation in spite of this and tried to meet the quotas,” Relfenzig continued. “By working hard, we believed we could earn enough to pay off the back taxes and get rid of the administrators. A few favored an armed uprising. They pointed out that in spite of their superior weapons, the overseers were few in number and could be overwhelmed. But in the long run, while we might kill the overseers, more humans would come and we would suffer grievous consequences.”

“And that is how things remained until twenty-three Stryan days ago, when disaster struck the village of Dantha. This is a nine year, the time when the Mangdabla stage their cyclical emergence and lay waste to our crops. It is our practice to put part of the seven- and eight-year harvests aside to see us through the ninth, but this time, in an effort to make its quotas, the village of Dantha didn’t, couldn’t. And its crop was not merely decimated, it was entirely wiped out. Not only would the village be unable to meet its quotas, most of its citizens would starve as well.

“To most, this would seem punishment enough, but the overseers chose Dantha for a special example. All the children under the age of ten were placed in the empty storehouse. Then the overseers locked the doors and soaked the thatch with liquid fuel. A man called Larkin lit the fire with his cigar and laughed while our children burned.”

Here Relfenzig turned his back on them and Subambassador Dolwinzer stood. His, or perhaps her, voice was lighter somehow, though still muffled like Relfenzig’s. “Please forgive Ambassador Relfenzig. He means no discourtesy. His youngest son was among those burned in the storehouse and he has not yet recovered.

“You must understand that after the storehouse burned, there was a time of great killing. The human called Larkin was the first to die, crucified in Dantha’s town square. But he was not the last. Word spread quickly, racing from village to village like a terrible wind, and wherever it went humans died. They fought and their terrible weapons killed thousands, but eventually they died. For days, the stench of their dying filled every square on Strya.”

Dolwinzer was silent for a moment as if considering her next words. “You must understand that our revolt was not planned out in advance or, if it was, only a few knew. A few humans escaped. By now, the Governor of Apex Cluster knows.” Dolwinzer sounded regretful, though it wasn’t clear whether her sadness flowed from the human deaths or the fact that some had managed to escape.

“Yes,” Relfenzig agreed, turning to face them once more. “And now the governor will send his fleet, not simply to punish us, but to annihilate us. That is why we went first to Augustine and then came here. Governor Windsor proclaims that all should be equal before the law. We have sought his justice and protection.”

Chapter 14

When the
Bremerton
jumped for Strya, the resulting blackness matched Merikur’s thoughts. So black was his mood, he’d sought out a little-used observation dome in which to be by himself and think. Back on Teller, Jomu, Nugumbe, Von Oy, and Fouts were sorting things out, restoring order, and preparing for Rankoo’s eventual trial. Sure, they were capable—but Harmony Cluster was
his
responsibility, and that’s where he wanted to be.

Yes, the Stryans needed help. Yes, they’d been abused. Yes, their plight demanded justice, but so did a dozen other situations within Harmony Cluster.
If
the battle for Teller was five years in the past,
if
racial equality was an accomplished fact,
if
all of Harmony Cluster was secure, things would be different.

But Teller was an open wound, racial equality was no more than a pronouncement by the governor, and there were other problems as well. There were good reasons why Windsor should consolidate his gains before conquering new territory.

Tenly and Eitor echoed Merikur’s views, pleading with Windsor to give the matter more thought and pointing out all the potential problems which might result if he didn’t. Windsor allowed them their say. When they were finished, he met their eyes one at a time. His voice was weary as if their arguments weighed a ton each and had worn him out.

“We aren’t discussing some fine point of law, or the ability of humans and Cernians to work side by side in a factory. We’re talking about the death of a planet. And by
God
I won’t allow it!” He shook his head. “I won’t allow you to tell me that saving the Stryans isn’t convenient right now, or that it might cause problems in the senate, or any other Goddamn thing! Is that clear?”

It
was
clear, and equally clear was the fact that Windsor was disappointed, saddened by their lack of courage and vision. They’d seen the hills and ignored the mountains beyond.

Merikur could understand the Governor’s point of view, but what if the Apex Cluster ignored Windsor’s attempts to intercede? What if they attempted to destroy Strya?

More immediately, what would Merikur do if Windsor ordered him to attack Apex naval vessels? To attack them was to attack the Pact itself, the very thing he and Windsor were sworn to protect.

Merikur was suddenly reminded of Citizen Ritt and the Kona Tatsu. Had they managed to anticipate his dilemma? Known in advance that Windsor’s beliefs would lead him into conflict with the Pact? And if so, what would they want Merikur to do?

The answer came as swiftly as the question. They’d want Merikur to stop him. More than that, they’d
expect
Merikur to stop him. Looking back, Merikur realized his jump to general, his assignment to Windsor’s staff, had all been arranged with this kind of situation in mind.

He was their back-up system, their fail-safe, the final check on Windsor’s eccentric personality. Merikur wouldn’t question the Pact’s authority. He wouldn’t turn his back on his duty.

Merikur wouldn’t do anything unpredictable.

His lips twisted into a sour smile.
Their
Merikur wouldn’t be in this situation.
He’d
have lost the battle for Teller and without that victory, Windsor wouldn’t be sticking his nose into the Apex Cluster.

The choice remained nonetheless. If forced to decide, which would he choose: Windsor and a race of ghostly aliens or the Pact he was sworn to uphold? He stared up through armored plastic but there were no answers in the blackness beyond.

###

Two days later, Merikur’s fleet dropped out of hyperspace. His larger ships launched scouts as they picked up speed and headed for Strya.

The vedettes spread out like hunting dogs in search of game. This game could shoot back, should they find and corner it.

Merikur waited aboard the
Bremerton
to see what kind of hand he’d been dealt. Was the system swarming with Apex Cluster naval forces? If so, how would they feel about his incursion on their territory, and what would Windsor order him to do? Most of the possibilities weren’t very good.

Reports began to filter in. A small freighter heading in system with a cargo of farm machinery, a scientific outpost on a rogue asteroid, a private yacht headed out-system. But no sign of naval vessels.

Merikur heaved a sigh of relief. Apparently, he’d lucked out. The Apex Command ships hadn’t arrived yet. Merikur was on thin legal ice as it was, but the presence of Apex Command Vessels would’ve forced an instant confrontation and destroyed any hope of cooperation. Now, at least, he could position his units as friendly forces coming to the aid of a neighboring cluster. Such a mission was unlikely, give the eternal shortage of ships, but not clearly illegal.

And upon that hook Merikur hung his hope. Maybe he could find a way to satisfy both Windsor and Pact Command.

Windsor was distant and aloof—sympathetic to Merikur’s efforts, but preoccupied by inner conflict. He wondered if he’d made the right decision. More than once, he opened his mouth to order the fleet home; each time, the thought of disrupter bombs exploding over farming villages froze the words in his throat and forced him to remain silent. So, while the fleet moved forward under his orders, Windsor struggled to decide if it should.

Bethany was caught in the middle. She had a natural sympathy for her uncle and his goals, but she understood Merikur’s position as well. She thought Merikur was right, but the decision was the governor’s to make. She did her best to stay out of the conflict and be supportive. Also, she had to admit to herself, she was loathe to take a stand that would make her, however indirectly, responsible for a planetwide slaughter.

Bethany wasn’t the only one caught in the middle. All the senior officers knew of the conflict and knew that their careers, even their lives could depend on the outcome. Because he was the man he was, mostly their loyalties were with Windsor, but they dreaded the thought of fighting Pact forces.