This Hollow Union

  “They could be monsters,” Tarsem said.

  “Yes they could. And yes we were. And in a very short time we tore each other apart and tore apart every other intelligent species we met. Until we had lost our empire and almost lost ourselves. We were terrible and cruel, and in time we wept in agony over it and everyone we had doomed to a conscious death.” I pointed again to the youth on the rock. “What happens to our young on their way to consciousness is pitiless. But it strengthens us as a people. We take our pain and our risk early, and as a result we as a people are saved.”

  “Well,” Tarsem said. “This is not what I was expecting when I suggested we meet here. I just thought it was a pretty place to talk.”

  “It is a pretty place,” I said. “It’s just not nice.”

  “Tell me what you think about the news today.”

  “About the Ocampo data?” I asked. Tarsem nodded. “I think it means very bad things for the Conclave. Ristin Lause is right, Tarsem. The Conclave is in a fragile state because you’ve been pushing things too hard, including bringing the humans of Earth into the Conclave. I’ve warned you about that.”

  “You have.”

  “And you haven’t listened.”

  “I’ve listened,” Tarsem said. “I have reasons not to agree.”

  I gave Tarsem a look that expressed my disapproval, which he took without complaint. I continued. “She’s also right that if you lose a confidence vote, it could fracture the Conclave. You already have dozens of species wanting to bolt and either go it alone or form smaller alliances they think they will be able to control. If you give the Conclave an opportunity to crack, it will crack.”

  “That’s independent of the Ocampo data.”

  “But the Ocampo data feeds right into that,” I said. “It seemingly confirms that the humans can’t be trusted and that they mean us harm, the Colonial Union portion of humanity, in any event. If you try to bring Earth into the Conclave after this, Unli Hado will use that to suggest that you’re letting the enemy through the front door.”

  “So we hold off on admitting Earth into the Conclave.”

  “Then Hado hits you with leaving it available to the Colonial Union to retake. Make no mistake, Tarsem. Hado is going to use Earth against you no matter what you do. And if you take the unspeakable third option of attacking the Colonial Union without direct provocation, Hado will use your first military defeat as an opportunity for the confidence vote he’s looking for. Every option leads to the assembly voting to remove you. And when that happens it all falls apart.”

  “This used to be easier,” Tarsem said. “Running the Conclave.”

  “That’s because you were building it,” I said. “It’s easier to be the aspirational leader when the thing you’re building doesn’t exist. But now it exists, and you’re not aspirational anymore. Now you’re just the chief bureaucrat. Bureaucrats don’t inspire awe.”

  “Do we have time to finesse this?”

  “We might have had, if both the Colonial Union and the Earth weren’t sending full suites of diplomats for discussions,” I said. “Having one set of them would be bad enough. Having them both here, posturing over the Ocampo data, means that Hado and his partisans are going to have real live targets for their ire and might use that to push a confidence vote sooner than later. If you think they’re going to miss an opportunity to trim down your reputation, with real-life human diplomats, then you’ll be playing right into their hands.”

  “Then tell me what you suggest,” Tarsem said.

  “That you don’t see Ambassador Abumwe when she arrives. Turn her away publicly. That deprives Hado of the spectacle of the Colonial Union being received diplomatically.”

  “And what about the new information they promised?”

  “Leave that to me. Colonel Rigney and I can set up a meeting and I can get it then. All discreetly.”

  “He won’t be happy.”

  “We don’t need him to be happy,” I said. “We need him to understand the political landscape we’re working in. I can make him do that.”

  “And the diplomats from Earth?”

  “We’ll have to meet with them,” I said. “And as for Earth itself, we need to get it out of the reach of the Colonial Union without bringing it into the Conclave.”

  Tarsem smiled. “I’m looking forward to hearing how this is going to happen,” he said.

  “We have them ask for protection,” I said.

  “Protection,” Tarsem said. “From whom?”

  “From the Colonial Union, who attacked Earth Station,” I said.

  “If it did.”

  “It doesn’t matter if it did. It matters that Earth believes it’s a threat.”

  Tarsem gave me a look that suggested a complicated response to this statement, but decided not to immediately follow it up. “So they ask for protection,” he said. “What does that solve?”

  “It solves Unli Hado, for one,” I said. “Because the Earth doesn’t ask to join the Conclave, and it doesn’t stay vulnerable to the Colonial Union. And when it asks for protection, we’ll assign three of our member states to take up the guard.”

  “Which three?”

  “Two of them it doesn’t matter. Pick who you like. But the third—”

  “The third is the Elpri,” Tarsem said.

  “Yes,” I said. “And then Hado is trapped. His entire ploy is based on you being too soft on the humans. But now one branch of humanity is publicly rebuffed and the other is guarded by Hado’s own species. He said to me today that his sole concern is the unity of the Conclave; let’s hold him to his words, and let’s make him do it publicly. He’s trapped by his own posturing.”

  “And you think the Earth will go along with this.”

  “I think they believe we both have a common enemy, and they know they are defenseless without us,” I said. “The only thing we have to do is not make it look like we’re bottling them up, like they were under the Colonial Union.”

  “Although that’s actually what you’re proposing we do.”

  “These are the options at the moment.”

  “And you think this will actually work,” Tarsem said.

  “I think it buys us time.” I turned back to the rock where the young Lalan had been a few minutes before, and noticed it wasn’t there anymore. There was a splotch of blood, however. Whether it belonged to the youth or the one who had been killed before it, I didn’t know. “Maybe enough time to save the Conclave from collapsing. And that’s enough for now.”

  PART TWO

  “Wake up, Hafte,” someone said.

  I woke up. It was Vnac Oi. I stared at it for a moment before gathering enough wit to speak.

  “Why are you standing in my sleeping chamber?”

  “I need you awake,” it said.

  “How did you get in?”

  Oi gave me a look that said, Really, now.

  “Never mind,” I said. I lifted myself off my sleeping pedestal and moved to my wardrobe to get dressed. I don’t usually prefer other people see me without clothing, but it’s for their sake, not mine; Lalans don’t have a taboo against nudity. “Tell me what’s going on, at least.”

  “A human ship has been attacked,” Oi said.

  “What?” I looked out from my wardrobe at Oi. “Where? And by whom?”

  “In our space,” Oi said. “And we don’t know. But it gets worse.”

  “How does it possibly get worse?” I slipped a basic robe onto my body and stepped out of the wardrobe. Other accoutrements could wait.

  “The humans’ ship is out of control and being dragged in by the gravity of this asteroid,” Oi said. “We have four serti before it hits.”

  “That doesn’t leave much time,” I said. There are thirty serti in a sur.

  “It gets worse,” Oi said.

  “Stop saying that,” I said. I stood in front of Oi, now. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  “There are humans trapped on the ship,” Oi said. “Including the diplomat
ic mission from Earth.”

  * * *

  “Here is the Odhiambo,” Loom Ghalfin said, pointing at the image of a tumbling spacecraft on the briefing room monitor. Ghalfin was the director of the Conclave’s ports and facilities. In the briefing room were me, Oi, General Gau, Chancellor Lause, and Regan Byrne. Along the wall of the briefing room stood several of Ghalfin’s subordinates, all of whom looked as if they were lined up to be shot. Well, and if Odhiambo struck the asteroid, it would be the most merciful thing that could be done to them.

  “The Odhiambo skipped into Conclave space roughly a hundred ditu ago,” Ghalfin said. Ninety ditu in a serti, so not very long ago at all. “Almost as soon as it entered Conclave space, it reported several explosions and extensive damage.”

  “Do we know what caused the explosions?” Gau asked, and nodded toward Oi. “Vnac here told me and Hafte it was an attack.”

  “We don’t know what it was,” Ghalfin said. “At entry the Odhiambo was reporting, verbally and by automated monitoring, that all systems were nominal. The next thing we know everything went haywire.”

  “Vnac?” Gau said.

  “My analysts started looking at data as soon as the damage reports came in, cross-referencing with what we know of the Odhiambo,” Oi said. “The Odhiambo is a lend-lease ship, originally an Ormu freighter. The pattern of damage it reported right after the explosions occurred isn’t consistent with what might happen with a power systems failure. It is consistent with what would happen if the power systems were attacked to cause secondary damage.”

  “So an attack,” Gau said.

  “Seems likely to me.” Oi motioned to Ghalfin. “Although I will bow to any additional information our colleague here can offer.”

  “We’re combing through our own data now to see if anyone or anything else skipped in just before or close to the arrival of the Odhiambo,” Ghalfin said. “We’re back a full sur on the data now and nothing’s pinged.”

  Tarsem nodded. “Let’s get back to the current situation.”

  “The current situation is that the Odhiambo is heavily damaged and tumbling in Conclave space. The explosions have imparted a small bit of momentum on the ship toward the asteroid, and the asteroid’s native gravity is doing the rest. Left unchecked it will impact in three serti, fifty-five ditu.” The image Ghalfin was showing tracked out and showed the projected path of the Odhiambo toward the Conclave’s headquarters.

  “What will the impact damage here?” I asked.

  “No habitats, either general or specialized,” Ghalfin said. “We’re not looking at any substantial death toll. But the Odhiambo will impact directly on one of our solar power farms, and several surface-level agricultural domes are nearby, which are at substantial risk of damage. How much damage depends on how the Odhiambo’s power systems fail at impact. Best-case scenario is we lose the solar farm, solely from the impact. Worst-case scenario is the ship’s power systems fail spectacularly in addition to the impact.”

  “In which case the asteroid gains a shiny new crater, debris gets thrown far and wide, including potentially into the docking area, damaging other ships, and into other areas of the asteroid, including possibly populated areas,” Oi said. “Which makes the potential death toll a bit more substantial.”

  “And the crew of the ship?” Tarsem asked.

  “Sixty crew, ten passengers, all part of the diplomatic team from Earth,” Ghalfin said. “The ship’s captain reported six dead, eight seriously wounded from the explosions, most from the engineering department. The dead are still on the ship. The wounded and most of the rest of the crew evacuated the ship via lifepods. The captain, executive officer, and the chief engineer are still aboard.”

  “But our diplomats are trapped,” said Regan Byrne.

  “That’s what the captain reported,” Ghalfin agreed. “The passenger quarters housing your team are sound but the passageways into their quarters are heavily damaged. There’s no way in or out, without landing on the hull and cutting our way in.”

  “The problem with that is that the Odhiambo’s power systems are damaged,” Oi said. “They could go at any time. If we send rescue crews and the ship goes up, we lose our people as well as theirs.”

  “You can’t just leave them trapped there,” Byrne said, staring at Oi.

  “We have to rationally judge the risks involved,” Oi said, staring back. It turned to face the room. “And we have to make a decision soon.” It pointed to the image of the Odhiambo. “The ship is three and a half serti from impact, but we don’t have that much time. Right now, if we destroy the ship with our defenses, it’s far enough away that we can control the debris and minimize any damage to ourselves and other ships. After that serti, it becomes progressively harder to contain the possible damage. Add to that the fact the ship can go at any time, in which case its destruction is uncontrolled, which makes our risks greater.”

  Tarsem turned to Ghalfin. “Loom?” he said.

  “Director Oi’s not wrong,” she said. “Controlled destruction of the Odhiambo is the best option and the sooner the better. We cannot allow it to impact, and the longer we wait the more chance the ship’s power systems will rupture.”

  “That means potentially sacrificing the diplomats,” I said. “Which is an unacceptable option.”

  “I agree,” said Lause, looking at Oi. “If the Conclave doesn’t at least make the attempt to save them, what does that say about us?”

  “You’re asking our rescue crews to risk their own lives,” Oi said.

  “Which is part of their job,” Lause said.

  “Yes, but not stupidly,” Oi replied. It turned to Ghalfin. “Your estimate for the Odhiambo’s power systems to fail, please.”

  “In the next serti?” Ghalfin asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Given the damage we know about, I’d say sixty percent,” Ghalfin said. “Which means realistically the chance is greater, because the damage we know about is the bare minimum possible.”

  “We’re asking our people to go to their deaths, almost certainly,” Oi said.

  “Ms. Byrne,” Tarsem said. “I want to know your thoughts.”

  Byrne took a moment to collect herself. “I can’t tell you I don’t want you to save my people,” she said. “I can’t even tell you that I will entirely understand if you didn’t. What I can say is that if you don’t, I’ll recommend to the governments of Earth that your refusal to act not be a factor in future discussions.”

  Tarsem looked at me after the comment. I stared back, silently, knowing that after all this time he would almost certainly know what I thought of Byrne’s realpolitik answer.

  “How long until we can have rescue crews on the way?” Tarsem asked Ghalfin.

  “They’ve been prepping since the Odhiambo’s first distress call,” Ghalfin said. “They’re ready to go when you want them.”

  “I want them,” Tarsem said. “Send them, please.”

  Ghalfin nodded, and turned to a subordinate, who handed her a headset conforming to her species. Tarsem turned to Byrne. “We’ll get them out, Regan.”

  “Thank you, General,” Byrne said. Her relief flowed off her like a waterfall.

  “General, we have a complication,” Ghalfin said.

  “What is it?”

  “Hold on—” Ghalfin held up a hand while she listened into her headset. “A rescue attempt is already under way.”

  “By whom and under what authority?” I asked.

  “It’s being undertaken by the Chandler,” Ghalfin said, after a moment of listening to her headset. “It’s a human ship, from the Colonial Union. It skipped in right around the time we started this meeting.”

  I looked over to Tarsem, who was smiling at me. I knew what that meant. It meant, Now aren’t you glad I decided to meet with the Colonials despite your advice.

  “What do you want to do now?” Ghalfin asked Tarsem.

  “I want you to tell the Chandler they have a serti to complete their rescue and after that
we’re vaporizing the Odhiambo for the safety of our headquarters,” Tarsem said. “And I want you to tell them that we’re sending a crew to assist if they need it and to observe if they don’t.” Ghalfin nodded and spoke into her headset.

  Then Tarsem turned to me.

  “Don’t tell me, I already know,” I said. I got up.

  “Where are you going?” Byrne asked, looking up at me.

  “I’m going with our rescue team,” I said. “To observe.”

  “You might blow up,” Oi said.

  “Then the Earth knows I blew up helping to save their people.” And knows the Conclave didn’t let the Colonial Union take on all the risk alone. Or sacrifice, I thought, but chose not to say. I knew that was part of Tarsem’s math. I nodded to those in the room and made my way to the exit.

  “Hafte,” Tarsem said, and I paused at the doorway. I looked back to him. “Come back alive, please.”

  I smiled and left.

  * * *

  “All right, this pilot is just showing off,” Torm Aul, the rescue shuttle pilot, said to me, as we approached the Odhiambo and the Chandler. The rescue shuttle contained me, Aul, zis co-pilot Liam Hul, whose seat I was currently occupying while Hul loitered in the general cabin, and six fellow members of the Fflict species as the rescue team. The Fflict recognized five genders: male, female, zhial, yal, and neuter. Aul was zhial, and ze liked zis pronouns accurately stated. I would too, in zis position.

  “Which pilot?” I asked.

  “The pilot of the Chandler,” Aul said, pointing at the monitor that gave zim zis external view. “The Odhiambo is tumbling chaotically so the Chandler is matching its movements.”

  “Why would it do that?” I asked.

  “It’s safer for the people running the rescue,” Aul said. “Makes the two ships stable relative to each other. But it’s difficult to do because the Chandler pilot has to track the Odhiambo’s movements precisely.”