The Alembic Plot: A Terran Empire novel

  27. Interim

  DeLayne's call was fruitful, more quickly than Cortin had expected. Assoon as he identified himself, he was transferred to Ranger Medart.Cortin studied him while DeLayne reported. She'd seen photos of theRanger before, but that had been before she had any expectation ofmeeting him, or having her society's future depending on how she dealtwith him. But now everything about him was meaningful.

  Except for some graying around his temples, he looked young--normal foran Imperial officer, with the anti-aging treatments they got. Butthere was something in his bearing that made it obvious he was noinnocent, even if she hadn't been acquainted, however vaguely, with hishandling of the Sandeman annexation. He was, she decided, the sort ofman she could respect--which meant she'd have to be careful not to letthat feeling hinder her judgement during the negotiations.

  She frowned when Medart, informed she'd been named negotiator, asked ifshe were available--long-distance negotiations didn't strike her as agood idea--but when Delayne replied that she was, she had no choice butto go to the ultrawave. "I am Colonel Cortin."

  "Ranger James Medart," the man on the screen replied. "Pleased to meetyou, Colonel. I'm also pleased to hear you'll be the one I'll betalking to. Do you have any objection to Captain DeLayne and his crewacting as Special Liaison until I get there?"

  "I would appreciate their assistance, though I am not sure what youmean by Special Liaison."

  "In this case, a demonstration of what Imperials are really like,"Medart said. "Maybe by the time I get there, you'll have decided wearen't the sort of monsters you've apparently been taught."

  "That is possible," Cortin said. "I gather you do not intend to carryout our discussions long-distance?"

  "No." Medart grinned. "All our experience says long-distancenegotiations are much less productive than face-to-face ones,especially something that looks like it might be tricky--such asworking with a culture I know nothing about. So I don't plan onanything except this type of talk, and that only if you insist; Iprefer to get my data in person. If there's anything you think I cando to help, of course, don't hesitate, but I won't be able to go beyondadvice. Unfortunately, even an IBC can't go over three lights perhour, and I'm over five hundred hours away."

  Roughly three weeks, Cortin calculated. "I should be able to managefor that time; if not, I am the wrong person for this job. Until yourarrival, then."

  "Agreed. Medart out."

  Cortin looked around, spotted one of her team and a couple of theImperials watching TV, what looked like a news special. "Chuck!" shecalled. "What's up?"

  "Aaron Spence's analysis of the Imperials' arrival and His Majesty'sdesignation of you as the sole authority regarding them," the young mancalled back. "He doesn't like the first, but he's in favor of thelatter, of course."

  "Of course." Cortin chuckled. Spence was the only commentator whosupported her completely, so he was naturally Family Cortin's favorite.But the fact that he'd gotten past the news to the analysis told herwhat she needed to know: her authority in regard to the Imperials waspublic knowledge. Odeon was done with the phone; she dialed the mainspaceport, told its commander the Imperial scoutship was beingtransferred to Harmony Lodge, and asked him to connect her to itsBridge.

  When that was done, she turned the phone over to DeLayne and listenedas he gave the necessary orders for its move to her estate. She wasn'tsure that was the right move, but with the Brotherhood becomingincreasingly active, it seemed the safest one. Her team, the ImperialMarines she knew better than to underestimate, and possibly-- "Mike,did you get through to Brad?"

  "Uh-huh. He'll be glad to lend us any local Strike Force troops nototherwise occupied--though he warns you he may need to take 'em back ifthe Brothers stage any more terror raids--and says to tell you he'sasking all the Strike Force priests to include you in their Massintentions until further notice. Which Dave and I, at least, will dogladly."

  Cortin grinned at him. "All of which I'm grateful for. I'll have tothank him personally next time he comes over--did he give you any ideahow soon they'll start arriving?"

  "About an hour," Odeon replied. "Shelters will be here about an hourafter that. I told Matthew to have the groundskeepers get thingsready."

  "Good. That should be after the Columbus lands--or will she need moretime, Captain DeLayne?"

  "Less, Colonel. She should be airborne by now, landing any minute.Scouts sometimes have to lift off at almost no notice, so regulationsforbid a complete engine shutdown outside Imperial space."

  "Sensible," Cortin agreed. "I seldom get to watch spacecraft land;would it be safe to go out and watch yours?"

  "I don't see why not, as long as we stay close to the house."

  * * * * *

  Even a small spacecraft was large--fitting hyperdrive in anything lessthan a hundred meters long seemed to be impossible--and Cortin knewthis scout was one of the smallest of the Imperial ship classes. Butthat didn't seem to help as she watched it descend into her side yard.Nothing that big should be able to move under its own power!

  But it did, settling slowly onto the grass, sinking until she wasn'tsure it would ever stop. Finally, though, it did, and she thoughtruefully that her head gardener was probably wishing her in Hell forwhat she'd done to his beloved lawn. And this wouldn't be the worst ofit; the entire estate grounds would soon be a mess, with troops campedand living on them. Well, so be it; she'd been consigned to Hell oftenenough, especially by the Brothers and assorted other terrorists andcriminals.

  When the ship's main hatch opened, DeLayne turned to her. "Normally Iwouldn't invite someone from outside the Empire aboard my ship, butunder the circumstances, you're welcome any time." He grinned at her."Someone who's called for Imperial help isn't going to sabotage us,after all."

  "Quite true, and I'd like to take advantage of your offer when timepermits, but His Majesty didn't say anything about my workload beingreduced. So until he does, or Ranger Medart arrives and I don't havetime for anything else, I think I should keep to my usual schedule."

  "Or lack of it," Odeon put in.

  "Or lack of it," Cortin agreed. "As active as the Brotherhood's beenof late, I don't get much time off; my only semi-free day is Sunday.If you have no objection, I would like to visit then."

  "As I said, you'll be welcome any time." DeLayne hesitated. "You'vementioned this Brotherhood several times, in context that makes itsound like it could be a threat to my crew. What is it?"

  "The Brotherhood of Freedom," Cortin said. "They're a collection ofterrorists, the worst in our history. Their leader, Lawrence Shannon,ordered them to disband before he disappeared about four months ago,but except for a few low-ranking ones, that didn't happen. Yes, theycould be a threat to your people. I doubt they'd be stupid enough toattack Harmony Lodge, though I prefer not to take chances--which is whyI wanted the extra Strike Force troopers. Outside the grounds islikely to be a different story, though, so I'd strongly recommend anyof your people leaving the compound have at least one trooper withthem, and that they be armed. If they are attacked, I'd appreciate itif they'd shoot to wound, rather than to kill; we can't get informationfrom the dead."

  "We can do that easily enough," DeLayne said. "I'll order blasters seton stun--with that request, I gather you don't have that option?"

  "Bullets don't stun, no," Cortin said. "You intrigue me--could I tryone of those blasters?"

  "I don't see why not," DeLayne replied. "The ship wouldn't let yourpeople into our armory, so we have plenty. Let me get my quartermasterto bring you one."

  "I'll be glad to do it, sir," Conley put in.

  "Very well, Miss Conley. Have it logged as a permanent transfer, alongwith a spare powerpack and charger."

  "Yes, sir." Conley boarded the ship, emerging moments later with thespecified equipment, as well as a holster and pouch for the blaster andspare powerpack. She handed them to Cortin, smiling. "I'll be glad toshow you how to use them, if you'd like." r />
  "I would, if your Captain doesn't mind."

  "No objection," DeLayne said. "In fact, if you don't mind, I'd like toappoint her as our individual Special Liaison from the Empire to theKingdom Systems until Ranger Medart arrives. She can stay at yourLodge, but I think the rest of us should go back to living on theColumbus."

  "If you wish, Captain." Cortin smiled at the young woman. "But thefinal decision will have to be yours, Miss Conley. I should warn you,associating with an Inquisitor will do nothing to improve your socialstanding in the Systems; we may be respected, but we certainly aren'tpopular."

  Conley laughed. "Since I won't be in the Systems long, I'm notworried--I'd love to learn what I can about you and your people, and--"she glanced at her Captain, hesitating.

  "And a stint as Special Liaison would look good on your record, I wouldimagine." Cortin chuckled. "We share that much, at least. Consideryourself accredited, Miss Conley. And Family Cortin's guest, untilyour superiors require you to return to your duties."

  "I'd like that--thank you, Excellency. When would you like to learnhow to use your blaster?"

  "As soon as I can. What facilities do you need?"

  "A standard target range will do fine for the blaster function. If youwant the stun function demonstrated, you'll need a volunteer and somegood strong headache medications."

  Cortin frowned. "I thought stunning wasn't harmful."

  "It isn't," Conley said. "At least, it doesn't do any physicaldamage--unless the fall itself injures you, of course. But it doesleave you with a nasty migraine for most of a day."

  "Interesting," Cortin said thoughtfully. A weapon that caused painwithout injuring its target sounded like an extremely useful tool foran Inquisitor. "Does it cause actual unconsciousness, or is it thepain itself that's incapacitating?"

  "At standard intensity, it causes about four hours' unconsciousness.The headache's just a side effect we can't seem to get rid of."

  That was even more interesting, Cortin thought. If Kingdoms scientistscould isolate the "side effect" and eliminate the unconsciousness, thesevere migraine would do very nicely to intensify an Inquisitor's otherattentions. She didn't want to upset the young Imperial with that lineof thought, though. "I should be able to find a suitable testsubject," she said. "Not right now, though; I need to get to work.Let's go back inside; you can explain the controls, then I canfamiliarize myself with it if I get any breaks."

  "Just a moment, please, Excellency," Odeon said. "I know you're busy,but there are going to be a lot of troopers here soon, and if theImperials go into town, they may stop at the joyhouses; don't you thinkthey ought to know about our favorite plague?"

  "Plague!" DeLayne exclaimed, his expression horrified.

  Cortin chuckled. "Yes--the only one I know of that most people wantedto catch. But you might not want to export it to the Empire, soCaptain Odeon's right; I ought to warn you. It's called the satyrplague, which should give you some idea of its nature."

  DeLayne nodded. "I think so--but I don't care to guess at the details,so tell me about it, please. And what a large number of troopers hasto do with it."

  "The troopers first," Cortin said. "Because of the hazardous nature ofour work, the Royal Enforcement Services have both Church and civildispensations from the sexual restrictions that apply to everyoneelse--except their partners at the time, of course. So they won't haveany hesitation asking any of your people they find attractive, oraccepting offers from them. The joyhouses don't have that dispensationyet, but since the plague appeared, working in or patronizing them's nomore than a venial sin and a misdemeanor the RES pays attention to onlyif there's a complaint; we have far more serious crimes to worry about.

  "The plague itself, of course, is sexually transmitted. There's nodanger of infection from casual contact, only about a one percentchance from kissing, but the odds improve with the intimacy of contact.As far as we can tell, intercourse with someone who has the plagueguarantees you'll get it; other genital contact is high-probability butnot certain."

  "But what does it do?" Conley asked.

  Cortin grinned at Odeon, who answered. "What it does, Miss Conley, isincrease both sexual desire and capability. That's most noticeable inmen, though it affects women as well. As you can probably imagine,it's had quite an effect on our society the last three decades."

  "What about immunization or a cure?" DeLayne asked.

  "Who'd want it?" Odeon asked in reply. "I damnsure wouldn't; I likewhat it's done for me. And for our wives and Family head."

  DeLayne raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. "We'll work on both, then,if you could provide a blood sample from someone who's infected."

  "How big a sample?"

  "A few drops should be enough." DeLayne grinned. "Scouts may besmall, but we get state of the art medical equipment, and people to useit who want a challenge."

  Odeon turned to Cortin. "If you don't mind, Colonel, I'll give him hissample, then come help you."

  "Fine. Take as long as you want, maybe get a tour of the ship." Shepaused, thinking. "Yes . . . under the circumstances, I think I'dbetter change your primary duty." She turned to DeLayne. "CaptainOdeon has been studying your Empire as well as possible from commintercepts and what's left of our Founders' records. If you're willingto loan him books or have some of your people talk to him, I'd like tomake those studies his top priority. He can then brief me on whateverhe considers important."

  DeLayne nodded. "Comm intercepts and fragmentary records won't giveyou very good information, especially since your Founders obviouslyweren't at all fond of the Empire--I'll be glad to help him learn asmuch as he wants." He turned to Odeon, grinning. "Come on,Captain--we'll go by Sickbay for the blood samples, then I'll give youa ship tour and introduce you to teaching tapes. Can you read ImperialEnglish?"

  Odeon looked up at the ship's name as he followed DeLayne up thegangplank, then shook his head ruefully. "If that's a sample, no--Ican recognize most of the letters, but they don't make sense."

  "Easy enough to remedy." DeLayne saluted the armed guard at the hatch."Permission to come aboard, sir? Myself and one of our hosts."

  The woman returned his salute. "Granted, sir. Are you permitting himaboard armed?"

  "Yes. And no one's to leave this estate--definitely not thecompound--unarmed. I'll make that--"

  "Captain?" Odeon interrupted.

  "Yes?"

  "If I were you, I'd have them armed any time they leave the ship. AndI'd have Miss Conley sent one of those blasters as soon as possible."

  DeLayne frowned. "The Brotherhood's that dangerous?"

  "Probably not here at the Lodge, as Colonel Cortin said--but we don'tknow how they'll react to the Empire's presence, and I don't think weshould take any chances."

  "Neither do I. Okay, I'll make the announcement and put it in thestanding orders." DeLayne turned to the guard. "No one's to leave theship without a sidearm, Corporal; pass that on to your relief. I'llmake the all-hands announcement as soon as I show Captain Odeon toSickbay."

  "Aye, sir."

  Odeon wasn't sure what he'd expected the ship's interior to belike--similar to an airplane, maybe. Once they got past the airlockand a series of large lockers, though, what he saw could have been theinside of a large, modern building. If he hadn't just watched it land,he wouldn't have believed himself inside a vehicle. "Your guard'suniform was black--a Marine?"

  "Right. SecuDiv--sorry, Security Division; I doubt you know ourabbreviations--like all the ones assigned to Columbus." DeLayne smiledat his guest. "I'd better warn you, Captain--my medical people willprobably want more from you than a blood sample. I don't know how yourpeople feel about doctors, but don't let Drulet intimidate you intomore than you're comfortable with."

  "I won't. I don't have anything against doctors; I owe my life toseveral of them." Odeon paused, thinking. Joanie was taking them intothe Empire, which knew even less about the Kingdoms than the other wayaround, so-- "Since
you've got to start learning about us, too, I'llgo as far as a complete physical--provided it doesn't include the useof any drugs."

  "It doesn't. He'll be delighted."

  * * * * *

  The examination didn't take as long as Odeon expected, less than threehours, but it was the most complete he'd ever had--and the leastunderstandable. The doctor tried to explain, but Odeon didn't have thebackground to make sense out of body scans, biochemical and geneticanalyses, or other procedures. After a bit he told the doctor so, toDrulet's amusement. "Okay, Captain, no more jargon. I'll wait tillwe're done and just give you the results, okay? If you want them."

  "The results, sure, if you can keep them down to a layman's level. I'mnot even trained in our medicine, and this--" Odeon gestured to theequipment around them, "is so far ahead of ours it isn't funny."

  "I think I can manage that. Okay, nothing but chit-chat until we getto my office. Do you like coffee?"

  "I'll drink it, but given a choice, I really prefer herb teas.Something with a tang, like cranberry or ginger."

  "I know just the thing." Drulet grinned. "I'll stick with coffee, andyou can try Blue Ginger. That originated on Herbert's World--have youheard of it?"

  "Afraid not."

  * * * * *

  Odeon sipped his tea, then nodded appreciatively. "This is good,Doctor. Okay, what's the verdict?"

  "You're healthy as the proverbial horse, Captain. More injuries thanI've seen on a single individual before, but no lasting damage--andcontrary to what you told me about your medical history, you've neverbeen sick a day in your life. No chickenpox or measles, no colds--andno satyr plague." He shook his head as Odeon started to object. "Oh,you're a carrier, all right; the pseudo-virus is in your body fluids.It just isn't inside your cells."

  "But I've got all the symptoms!"

  "Yes, you told me--the diagnostic ones being the increased sexualcapacity and the penile moistening during arousal. The tests areconclusive, though; in your case those are genetic, not disease-caused."

  Odeon frowned. "Then how come none of it showed up till the day afterI had intercourse the first time? Because that's when the urge gotstrong and I started getting wet."

  Drulet shrugged. "That question I can't answer; I don't know enoughabout the disease. Could be pure coincidence, or maybe the virus'presence in your body pulled the genetic trigger, so to speak.Possibly any physical stress or trauma could've set it off, oncepuberty hit. But that's all guesswork."

  "I understand." That part, anyway, Odeon thought. Why he'd have agenetic condition that mimicked the satyr plague was a whole 'notherquestion, and one he knew the doctor wouldn't be able to answer, so hedropped the subject. "Would you mind sending my commanding officer acopy of your report, so it can go in my medical records? I'm due myannual physical next month, but with this one so recent and so muchmore thorough, that can be waivered."

  "Be glad to. If you don't mind, I'll forward a copy to Ranger Medartas well. His eyes only, of course."

  Odeon didn't particularly like that idea, for no reason he couldpinpoint--he'd taken the examination so Imperials could learn aboutKingdoms people, after all--but he nodded. "I suppose so."

  "In that case," DeLayne's voice broke in, behind Odeon, "you wouldn'tmind if I also send him anything I learn from you."

  "No--but he did say he wanted to get his data in person."

  "What's the difference if I send him the ship's record tapes of ourconversations, or he talks to you himself?"

  Odeon frowned. "The ship tapes everything? You don't have anyprivacy?"

  "Everything in the public areas, yes. Admiral Columbus, please tellCaptain Odeon how you handle monitoring of private quarters."

  "Yes, Captain," came from the air, startling Odeon. "I monitor thoseonly for sounds of distress or people requesting my attention, andpermanently tape only those situations; everything else is wipedautomatically within approximately one microsecond."

  "Your ship talks to you?"

  DeLayne and Drulet both chuckled at Odeon's incredulity. "Yes, shedoes. All Imperial ships of this class or higher--which means all butcouriers or landers--have AI-level ship-comps."

  Odeon was silent for a moment, then he said, "Okay, I'll bite; whatdoes that mean?"

  "Sorry," DeLayne said. "That's a ship-wide computer complex enough tobe classified as an artificial intelligence. That means that if youdidn't know you were talking to a computer, you'd think it was a veryintelligent human. I gather you're not too familiar with computers?"

  "That's one way to put it; I've never used one, and only seen a few.None of those talked, and I never heard of any being intelligent!"

  DeLayne chuckled. "Any time you want to talk to one, address her theway I did. She'll answer you, as long as you don't get into classifiedinformation."

  "That may take me a while to get used to. No offense intended, AdmiralColumbus."

  "I do not have feelings, so I cannot take offense, Captain Odeon, but Ithank you for the courtesy."

  "You're welcome," Odeon replied automatically, before turning toDeLayne. "Even the little bit I've experienced so far--this Sickbayand talking to your ship--is awesome. It makes me feel . . . I don'tknow. I'm competent enough in the Kingdom Systems, but it's prettyclear none of us are anything but total incompetents in your terms. Idon't like that feeling."

  "Neither would I, in your place. But don't worry about it; as I toldColonel Cortin, we aren't monsters, and we don't force ourselves onanyone. If she does decide the Systems should join the Empire, we'lloffer but not impose education about us and our science. Also whateveryou need to bring yourselves to our level."

  "Like you offered to teach me?"

  "Exactly. Ready to get started?"

  "Definitely." Odeon allowed himself a brief smile as he stood. "Let'sgo see one of these 'teaching tapes' you mentioned. Are they anythinglike a book?"

  "Nothing at all. They aren't really tapes, either; they just gotcalled that, back when they were invented, and the name stuck. Let'sgo to my cabin, and I'll introduce you to them. Admiral Columbus,please have a reader and basic-language tape waiting in my fabricator."

  "Yes, Captain."

  "Fabricator?" Odeon asked as they left Sickbay, going deeper into theship.

  "Yes. Do you know anything about molecular physics?"

  "No." Odeon sighed. "I'm really in over my head, aren't I?"

  DeLayne chuckled. "Not really; that's one of my degrees, is all, and Ienjoy discussing it when I get the chance. Most people haven't thefaintest idea how fabricators work; they just use them. We don'tmanufacture small items any more; once a prototype's developed, thepattern is scanned and recorded. When you want one of that item, youcode it into your fabricator, and the fabricator constructs it, withany modifications you specify in the coding, from reconstituted rawmaterials. When you're done with it, you feed it back into thefabricator's raw material storage for re-use."

  Odeon whistled. "That's incredible. Things like your uniform?"

  "Among others, yes."

  "And I thought the plague and Families were causing a major socialupheaval. What you're going to do to us . . . Maybe Colonel Cortin'sright to be afraid of you after all, though not for the reason shethinks."

  "I can't deny there'll be stress," DeLayne said soberly. "You won'thave to join, and you won't have to accept anything from us that youdon't want--but just making open contact will cause changes, yes. It'sa good thing for your Systems that Colonel Cortin was able to getRanger Medart, too. Any Ranger would be good, but he's the Empire'sbest at anything involving cultural differences--which we don't try todestroy, as you probably already know. To quote a twentieth-centurywriter by the name of O'Sullivan, our aim is to 'preserve the uniqueviewpoints of different groups, but at the same time require that eachgroup be tolerant of the others'. We see harmonious diversity as agood thing."

  "I'd gotten that impression, bu
t not in so many words. The Sandemansand Traiti, from what I've studied, both maintain their own cultureswithin their Subsector and Sector."

  "And so do the cloudcats, on Ondrian. They're another race RangerMedart managed to bring into the Empire peacefully--damn good thing forus, since that's the only place miracle-weed produces usablerapid-heal."

  "I never heard of any of those."

  DeLayne chuckled. "Learning from comm intercepts would tend to befragmentary, especially when the ultrawave beams aren't aimed at youand you don't have the cultural background to understand a lot of whatyou do hear. That's what we're in the process of remedying. Andhere's my cabin." He put his hand to a small plate beside the door,which promptly opened onto a small living area. "Have a seat while Igo get the tape and player--my fabricator's in the bedroom."

  Odeon obeyed, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn't afraid of theEmpire, and as he'd told Joanie months ago when he first startedstudying them, he already had some respect for them. DeLayne wasadding to that, even as he was overwhelming Odeon with casuallyincomprehensible references. Fabricators, cloudcats, miracle-weed,rapid-heal . . . and teaching tapes. DeLayne was emerging from thebedroom carrying what looked like a small book and a thin box ofmatches, though Odeon was sure those had to be the reader and 'tape'he'd mentioned.

  "Here we go," DeLayne said, pulling up a chair. He handed Odeon thereader, which turned out to be a screen with a row of wordsunderneath--all of which, to Odeon's gratification, he was able topuzzle out--and showed him how to insert the tape, then explained thetouch controls for tape direction and speed. "The older models haveelectrodes that have to go on the temples," he added, "but the new onesdon't need them. Some people have a mild reaction, disorientation or atouch of nausea; if you do, slowing the tape down usually gets rid ofit. Whenever you're ready, just touch the "Go" button."

  "Okay." Odeon did so--and promptly doubled over.

  Alarmed, DeLayne grabbed the tape player and shut it off. "What'swrong, Captain?"

  "I thought you said . . . mild nausea and disorientation. Not stomachcramps and . . . the worst headache I've ever had."

  DeLayne frowned. "I've never heard of a reaction that bad, or Iwould've warned you. Let me get Dr. Drulet to prescribe you something."

  "Thanks, but no thanks; I'll be okay. It's fading already." Odeonstraightened cautiously, shaking his head. "I don't think I'd care torepeat the experience, though. Do you have any ordinary books I canuse instead?"

  "No, but I can have the ship print you out what's on the tapes.Normally I'd suggest you try a standard reading tape, but after thatreaction, printouts would probably be the best idea. They're a hell ofa lot slower than teaching tapes, though; it'll take you a day or so tolearn what the tape would've given you in a couple of minutes."

  "I'll take the day, and the printouts."

  "You've got them. Imperial English, or should I have the shiptranscribe everything into the pre-Imperial alphabet?"

  "Imperial," Odeon said, after a moment's thought. "I'm going to haveto learn it sooner or later, so why put it off?"

  "That makes sense. And I don't think I'd better let any of your peopletry taking a tape till the Lindner gets here. An IBC has betterresearch facilities than a scout; they may be able to find out why youreacted so badly, whether it's an individual reaction or somethingeveryone in the Systems shares, and how to avoid it."

  "That makes sense, too. Thanks, Captain. Aside from the alphabet,what would you recommend I study first?"

  "In your place I'd start with basic history and Imperial structure.Once you know that, you're in a better position than I am to decidewhat else you'll need."

  "I'll do that, then."

  27a. At Harmony Lodge