Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights (29 page)

Washburn leaned into her and said privately, “You’ve been living with gleasons for too long. Your nerves are on a knife edge. Let me assure you that you are entirely safe here.” He looked toward Borg. “You need never fear him, Your Majesty. Or me for that matter. Our job is to protect you, not to hurt you. Your words touched on ancient hatreds."

"I guess they did," she replied, her eyes not leaving the agitated cat.

When Borg realized the scene he was making, he stopped. He shook his head one final time, then padded up to Krys and Atiana. "My apologies, Ladies, and you, Sire,” he said turning to Tarn. He then padded over to Galborae and sat on his haunches before him, every molecule of his being demanding answers. "You
talked
to a gleason?"

"Well, the Sky Lord did most of the talking. When it was over we both woke up in sick bay, me in the tank again."

"Tell me about it."

Galborae told the tale in its entirety, beginning with Havlock's failed attempts to talk with gleasons in captivity and ending with Galborae decapitating the creature that nearly killed both of them.

When the telling was done, Borg lowered his head to Galborae, his way of honoring him. "I would meet this Sky Lord."

"So would I,” Tarn said. He raised his voice slightly so the ship’s AI would hear him. “George, will you let him know?”

“I believe he's indisposed at the moment, Tarn.”

“So we hear. Make it at his convenience—it sounds like his work is more important than our own at the moment. We can delay a day or two.” He stepped over to Krys and knelt down before her, taking her hands in his own. "My Lady?"

“We can stay, Tarn. Nothing else is imminent, and I confess I'm intrigued by what I'm hearing here." Her blind gaze returned to Atiana. "Is there anyone else we should invite?"

"There is, My Lady. The Teacher, the Healer, and Milae, Sir Galborae's wife."

"George, please see to it," she said. She turned back to Atiana. “A Teacher and a Healer? Who are they?"

"Imperial Marines who have shown an aptitude for dealing with my people. At the moment they're key to Colonel Havlock’s method of introducing the Empire to very frightened people, but I believe he plans a bigger role for them in the future."

"Oh? He has a vision for the future?"

“He does, but the details are not yet clear to him. Dealing with the gleasons will take years. When we’re done, Tranxte will be a world in turmoil. Colonel Havlock is seeking a way to bring us through that turmoil, ultimately to a future of our own determining. He believes there’s a measurable probability we’ll self-destruct in the process.”

Sir Galborae spoke up. "My Lady, Sire, it's very bad down there. People, those who have survived, have fled their fields and villages and moved into our castle strongholds for protection. Food is scarce, disease is spreading with the overcrowding, and we've barely scratched the surface of the gleason problem. Queen Atiana rules five kingdoms. Within her province we have essentially eliminated the gleasons, but what’s five kingdoms compared to the whole world? We’ve done this with a small, advance force of marines. We expect the rest of them to come in half a year or so, but even then it will be an overwhelming job. Planets are big. I'm still learning how big, but I know enough to know that General Stymes’ men won't be enough. There might never be enough. The gleasons are probably breeding as fast as we kill them.”

"You're telling me it's an impossible task?"

His lips compressed into a thin line, though she could not see him. “To me it is, but don’t forget—after all is said and done, I still don't know what a thousand means, let alone the meaning of a light-year. The Sky Lord disagrees with me.”

Krys lifted her head toward Atiana who was still standing. Atiana knew what the Knight sought, but she was troubled. She stepped away from the couch to lean against a table, then turned and said, “It’s not really my place to speak for him, My Lady.”

“Probably not,” Krys said, nodding in agreement, “but you will. We both know you won’t pass up an opportunity to serve Tranxte.”

Atiana bit her lip. Half sitting and half leaning against the table, she opened her arms wide and said, ”Isn't it obvious? To you of all people?"

Krys started to answer, then stopped as another thought struck her. "Please tell me you're not leaning against the table, my dear?"

Atiana straightened up instantly. "I'm sorry, My Lady. I was."

A sweet grin found its way to Krys' face. "I thought you might be. In some ways you remind me of another. You may now lean back against the table and instruct me. Explain to me, if you can, why it might not be an impossible task to clear your world of gleasons."

Atiana knew she would never again lean against this particular table, but she complied with the Knight's request to speak. “It so happens that I think Galborae is right—considering the size of Tranxte, it seems an impossible task. Gar does not agree. He believes, instead, that his superiors were short-sighted when they defined his task.”

She looked around the room, making eye contact with each person. “In his words, your Empire has brought together many species. Each of them has its own beliefs, beliefs which often contradict others’ beliefs within this vast Empire of yours, probably even within this amazing room within this amazing sky ship.”

She stepped closer to Krys. “My Lady, Gar tells me that the most fundamental purpose of your Empire is to ensure this continued freedom of choice between alien societies.”

She took a deep breath, not at all in agreement with Havlock’s notion herself. “Your Empire knows gleasons have a simple language. After fighting them and speaking with them, Gar believes they have more intelligence than you credited them with. Actually, a lot more. In his mind that qualifies them as a sentient, alien race. He believes they have the right to be different, even though their beliefs not only contradict the norm, they contradict everyone. He believes your Empire needs to extend the same freedom of choice to them that you have extended to others. He's looking for a way to provide those rights to the gleasons without the rest of us getting killed in the process."

Silence filled the room for a time, a long time. Even Borg looked thoughtful. The silence lasted long enough that Atiana finally asked, "My Lady?"

Krys lifted her face toward this woman who called herself a queen, this woman who by Empire standards was uneducated, illiterate, and from a backward world. “Do you agree with him?”

“The words I’ve spoken are Gar's words, My Lady, not my own. I am not in agreement with him. What the gleasons have done to my world can never be forgiven.”

"And this Gar person, would he be a certain Colonel Havlock, your Sky Lord?"

Atiana blushed. "Sorry, My Lady. Yes."

"In fairness, my Queen and her First Knight struggle with a similar issue. We call our enemies the Chessori. They are so ruthless that we see only one means of defeating them. It includes genocide. For most of us that is acceptable, but my Queen seeks other ends. Tell me," she asked so softly that everyone leaned toward her to hear, "has this Gar of yours found a solution?"

Atiana turned toward Galborae with a question.

He said, ”Your Majesty, this is a side of him I've never seen. I have no idea."

A sense of wonder filled her. Had some of her conversations with Gar really stayed just between the two of them? Had he trusted her so much? Her thoughts stayed internal long enough that Krys cleared her throat.

Atiana blinked as she reviewed the question at hand. "He has not found a solution,” she said thoughtfully, “but he knows the direction of his search."

“He does?” Krys asked in amazement, rising to her feet to face Atiana. “And that is?"

"He believes the answer lies in finding a place that needs the gleasons.”

Silence prevailed again. As before, it held for a long time as every person in the room tried to adjust to a new reality. Eventually, Borg broke the silence. "There's such a place?"

“He doesn’t know. I personally can't imagine such a place. At present he doesn't have the means to search."

"And if he had the means to search, and if his search found such a place? What then?” Krys demanded.

"My Lady," Atiana replied with unabashed pride, “Gar is not afraid to call upon all the resources of your great Empire." In a softer voice, she asked, "Would you be inclined to support that request?"

Krys shuddered. "We're talking about gleasons here, Your Majesty. In my heart I say no, but philosophically the answer must be yes. Pity the crews who would carry them.”

* * * * *

Following dinner, Atiana sat with Lady Krys in her quarters. It was just the two of them if you discounted the presence of Borg. Krys was never without protection when there were visitors on the ship.

"My Lady, may I ask what blinded you?" Atiana asked.

"You may and I'll tell you, but only if you agree to call me Krys."

"Of course, My Lady, but you’re a Knight of your great Empire. I'm just queen of a province on a remote world that has little importance to the Empire."

"Don't sell yourself short. Mother will enjoy meeting you, I’m certain. But consider: there is only one other woman on this ship, our healer. Conversation with women is a rare luxury for me.”

“Oh, I know what you mean. I, too, live most of my life in a man’s world. But you and Tarn are friends. Even in the short time I've been here I can see that."

"We're best friends and life partners. I get the feeling something is building between you and Colonel Havlock?”

Atiana hesitated. Was it appropriate to bare her soul to this woman who was probably younger than she was? More important, was it fair to Gar? Then she remembered—it was because of this woman that the Empire was trying to rescue her people. Lady Krys had earned the right to ask anything she wanted to ask.

“I wish,” she said, “but he's juggling too many complex issues to think about me, at least the way I think about him. If I can borrow a favorite term from Sir Galborae which neither of us understands, Gar’s thinking is light-years ahead of the rest of us. He's intensely focused on refining methods to attract gleasons to the kill, but he's also trying to save them as a species. Not only that, he’s constantly focused on Tranxte’s future. Everything he does, he does with that view in mind. It’s why he talked to the gleason. It’s why he’s involving us in the fight, not just doing the fighting for us. It’s why we have a Teacher and a Healer.”

“I’m intrigued with his focus on Tranxte’s future,” Krys said. “No one in the Empire really knows what to do with Tranxte. We’ve had some great failures along the way when emerging worlds learned of our existence, but we’ve had no great successes. Those we guided—to the best of my knowledge all of them—came into the empire passively, bringing little creativity or energy.”

"Hmm. That might be what’s driving him to see Tranxte succeed. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find he’s studied those failures to see what went wrong. Whatever the case, he’s determined. One of his concerns is that a horde of experts will descend on us when the gleasons are dead or gone, a horde who will supplant all of his efforts.”

“Hordes of experts can be wonderful tools if they have the right guidance. Is he the one to guide them? Are you? Have the two of you discussed specifics?"

“He's made a start by naming two of his people Teacher and Healer. They live with us, they have the ability to inform us at a level we understand, and they’re respected. The Teacher reaches out to kings and captains of the guard. The Healer has saved countless lives while teaching our own healers in the process. I’m one of her success stories. She might have saved my life by convincing me to abandon my kingdom long enough to spend time in a tank."

"How does the Teacher reach out to kings?”

"He accompanies either Gar or myself and the Healer as we introduce the Empire to new kingdoms. Keep in mind that we’re showing up at their doorstep in a sky ship. We use magic weapons and we dress in clothes that cannot be pierced by a blade. Hawke has a knack for knowing just the right words to use with people who are afraid, suspicious, and desperate. He was a sergeant before Gar reassigned him."

Krys lifted an eyebrow. “A sergeant is in charge of replacing local leadership?”

“Just the opposite, My Lady. Gar has not come to conquer. He is going to great effort to keep our current structure in place. The Teacher and Healer are the foundation of what he calls hi
s
‘mentoring group.’ With the power at his fingertips, he could easily defeat any kingdom on the planet. Instead, he empowers kings and queens. He brings the local king out to a caravan, teaches him and his guards how to fight gleasons, then makes certain the king and his guards lead the caravan into their own cities and through their castle gates in triumph. Let me tell you, the arrival of a caravan is a huge event. Before the marines came, travel between villages, towns, and even kingdoms had come to a complete halt. The caravans bring badly needed supplies, but more, they bring hope that there’s an end to this.

“The Teacher convinced him to hold a meeting of kings from every single kingdom we’ve reconnected to. At the meeting, Gar laid out Empire strategies and plans before all of them so that no one felt slighted. The Teacher hopes to continue such meetings as we reconnect to additional kingdoms. He wants every ruler to know every other ruler in order to foster discourse and hopefully form bonds of trust. Gar believes there will always be a measure of distrust among them, but if he can keep them trusting the Empire, they’ll at least have a neutral place in which they can talk with some measure of freedom.