Earth 2788

  The whole room erupted in laughter and reminiscent jokes, but I frowned, hit by multiple conflicting emotions. The part of me that was loyal to Beta sector was proud of the time nearly two centuries ago, when Beta sector had declared the second Roman Empire under Emperor Haran Augustus, and had stood alone and defiant against the rest of humanity.

  But the part of me loyal to the Military took a very different view. For the fifty-three year duration of the Second Roman Empire, humanity had hovered on the brink of war between the sectors. It had been a dreadful time for the Military, with officers who’d joined up to defend humanity from danger having to face the possibility of using their weapons against fellow human beings.

  And the part of me that was loyal to my clan shuddered at the mere mention of the Second Roman Empire. That time had been an utter nightmare for the members of the sprawling extended families of the Military clans of Beta sector. I’d seen the vids in my clan archives, showing my ancestors having anguished clan meetings, torn between their oaths as Betans and as Military. After seeing those vids, the thought of Beta sector declaring the Third Roman Empire, of finding myself in exactly the same position, was far from funny.

  “Asante took everyone over to the Parthenon,” continued Constantine, “so we could hear him make a speech to Senate, ordering them to defend Betan clan culture and sexual freedom by attacking Gamma sector.”

  There was another burst of laughter, and I forced myself to smile. The people around me were civilians, and couldn’t possibly understand how I felt about this. They thought there was a big gulf between the culture of Beta and the other sectors, but they didn’t realize there was a far bigger division between Military and civilian life.

  Since over 90 per cent of Military recruits had been born into Military families themselves, and grown up either on Military bases or in Betan Military clan halls, few civilians even knew one of us personally, let alone understood the life we lived. The Military did all the dangerous jobs of humanity, preparing new colony worlds to be safe homes for people, and going in as a peacekeeping force on worlds where planetary political arguments threatened to escalate into civil war. We did our job well, perhaps too well. Civilians led a protected, sheltered existence, and could expect to live to celebrate their hundredth. They had no idea of the true horror of death and conflict.

  On Remembrance Day each year, civilians would spare a few moments to solemnly remember the Military who’d died protecting them, but they got their ideas of those deaths from naively romantic entertainment vids. They pictured them all as happening in heroic circumstances, with the bodies looking dignified and nobly peaceful in death, just like the statues at a memorial site. They’d never seen a friend die in a stupidly pointless accident, or had to respectfully gather together the pieces of what had been their body for burial.

  If something happened to me one day, then the lives of the people who knew me at Asante’s MeetUp might be briefly touched by shadow, but I’d soon become a nostalgic memory. They’d never face danger themselves. They’d never know the intense moment when you were hit by the reality that doing something could kill you, but you did it anyway, because you were Military and never wanted to be anything else.

  It was the job of the Military to protect civilians from such grim realities, not to spoil a happy moment with lectures about wars being an inappropriate subject for jokes. I did my best to speak in a light-hearted voice. “How did the members of Senate react to Asante’s arrival?”

  Hermione and Nyakeo, Asante’s wives, came out from the crowd. Hermione had had blonde hair trailing loose past her shoulders last time I saw her, but now her hair was red and caught up in an ornate knot on top of her head. Nyakeo looked the same as ever though, hair and skin as dark as Asante, and with an infectiously happy grin on her face.

  They both kissed me on the cheek, and then Hermione spoke. “It was nearly midnight, so the whole of Senate had gone home hours ago, but the Praetorian Honour Guard were still guarding the building. They were very friendly and helpful when we explained what was happening. They let Asante stand on the steps, declare himself Emperor, and make his speech. They even saluted him at the end.”

  “I made a vid of the whole thing,” added Nyakeo, “and they used a clip on Beta Sector Daily. I’ll send you a copy if you like, Drago. It’s a shame you weren’t there to be in the vid yourself.”

  I pictured myself in Military uniform, joining the Praetorian Honour Guard in saluting Emperor Asante, and cringed. The Praetorian Honour Guard was made up of bodyguards employed by the Betan Senate, and encouraged to entertain the public, while I was a genuine Military officer. All the newzie channels would have grabbed the chance to show the vid clip, and Military Command …

  Actually, however strongly Military Command disapproved, they couldn’t have done much to me, because celebrating my cultural heritage was specifically permitted under Military Regulations. They wouldn’t have needed to do anything anyway, because Father would have shot me. If Mother was around at the time, she’d have stopped him of course, but then I’d have had to suffer a lifetime of endless lectures about my irresponsible behaviour. On the whole, I’d have been better off being shot.

  In reality though, none of those things would have happened. I wasn’t nearly as immature and reckless as my father imagined. However much I adored encouraging the delightful eccentricities of Asante inside his MeetUp, I’d have had to disappoint him by refusing to take part in a public display. It was fortunate that his acclamation as Emperor had happened while I was away on assignment.

  One thing about this story puzzled me. Asante’s hostility to other sectors was normally centred on privileged Alpha sector, the traditional rival of Beta sector, so … “Why did you want to attack Gamma sector in particular?”

  Asante gave a dramatic wave of his right hand. “When Alpha and Gamma sectors united to try and impose their cultural standards on Beta sector back in 2605, we defied them. We will do the same again now in 2788. Fidelis!”

  “Fidelis!” yelled the mob.

  I frowned. “I know I don’t have access to the full range of Betan newzie channels when I’m on a nameless prospective colony world in Kappa sector, but if we were facing a political situation like there was in 2605 then every newzie channel in every sector would be screaming about it.”

  “I admit it was on a much smaller scale,” said Asante, “but the principle was the same.”

  “What actually happened was a minor Gamma sector politician made a speech condemning the immorality of Beta sector,” said Hermione. “Apparently, he’d been part of some official Gamma sector delegation that came to Zeus. He went into a MeetUp like this one and didn’t like what he saw.”

  She paused and adopted a prim, masculine tone of voice, before quoting what I guessed was part of the speech. “I’m a tolerant man. I accept that triad marriage is legal in Beta sector, I accept the peculiarities of their clan system and their mangled interpretation of ancient Roman and Greek culture, but I cannot accept the way they scandalize innocent visitors to their worlds with their immoral clothing standards. I was shocked, appalled, and outraged to see women brazenly flaunting their naked fronts at me!”

  Constantine grinned. “Beta sector’s official response was to ban him from ever visiting a Betan world again. The message said we couldn’t guarantee that every single one of the tens of billions of people in Beta sector would remain suitably dressed at all times just in case he walked through their door, and didn’t want any risk of him suffering such alarming shock and distress again. Asante’s demonstration was one of a host of unofficial responses, including the new fashion in party clothes. You must have noticed our clothes.”

  Naturally I’d noticed everyone was wearing glittering, jewel-coloured clothes, which covered an oddly large amount of the body for Beta sector. It wasn’t exactly true that Betans had no nudity taboo, and there were plenty of places and occasions where full formal dress including a toga was expected, but there was usually a lot more skin
on display in a MeetUp, particularly Asante’s MeetUp.

  “I was a bit puzzled by the clothes,” I said.

  Asante gave one of his widest smiles. “Gamma sector would like us to wear clothes that cover the body areas they consider private, so we are. The clothes are slightly different to the ones in Gamma sector though, because they’re made with cutaway cloth sections. Watch what happens when people dance.”

  He clapped his hands. “Bar command slow dance music!”

  Music started playing from the overhead speakers, and people began swaying from side to side. As they moved, unexpected flashes of bare skin kept appearing.

  “Drago, do you think my dress would impress the men of Gamma sector?” called a beautiful, raven-haired girl.

  I turned to look at her, and she deliberately span round on the spot. Every cutaway on her sapphire-blue outfit triggered at once, so for a second or two she was only wearing flying lengths of blue ribbon. Everyone applauded her.

  I choked. “I think it would have a devastating effect on them.”

  She grinned at me. “And how about you, Drago? Does it have a devastating effect on you?”

  Betan courtesy demanded I give her a deeply appreciative smile and a compliment. “The lovely dress, and the display of its even lovelier contents, has so utterly devastated me that I need a glass of wine to help me recover. May your humble subject offer you wine as an apology for his overlong absence, Asante?”

  “I shall have a glass of wine from Aether,” said Asante.

  We went across to the nearest drinks dispenser, I ordered two glasses of the distinctive, sharp-tasting, red wine from Aether, and we took the drinks to a small table in the corner and sat down. The rest of the crowd accepted the current entertainment was over, and drifted back to sit at their own tables and resume their interrupted conversations.

  Asante studied me for a moment before speaking. “Why are you buying me wine, Drago? You should be eagerly pursuing the enchanting Clarinda after that charming invitation she gave you.”

  “Clarinda is the girl in blue? She must be new here, because I’ve never seen her before.”

  “Relatively new,” said Asante. “She’s been coming to my MeetUp for a year now, so she’s heard all about the irresistible Drago Tell Dramis. She seems eager to be your partner while you’re here on leave, and you’d have a lot of fun together.”

  “I’m sure we would, but I’m not interested in tumbling a girl who must be ten years younger than me.”

  “If I remember correctly, Drago, you’re 28,” said Asante.

  I nodded.

  “And Clarinda is 22 not 18.”

  I shrugged. “She looks younger.”

  “She’s very attractive.”

  “She’s stunning, but I’m still not interested.” I paused. “The truth is that I’ve fallen in love, Asante.”

  “Ah ha!” He leaned back in his chair. “So you bought me wine because you wanted to tell me about your lover. Does he, she, or they have a name?”

  “Her name is Marlise, and I need you to advise me what to do about her.”

  Asante frowned. “I’d have thought it was obvious what you should do. I know you’ve enjoyed your years of freedom and exploring casual relationships, Drago, but you’re 28 now. It’s time for you to start thinking seriously about settling down into a permanent relationship. The look on your face shows you’re besotted with this girl, so why not marry her?”

  I groaned. “Please don’t start preaching to me about Betans traditionally settling down and marrying by 30, Asante. I’ve been having that lecture from my father at least once a month for the last three years, and anyway it’s not needed. I want to marry Marlise, but we’ve been nothing more than friends so far, and I’m scared to push things between us.”

  “What?” Asante dramatically hit his forehead with his right hand, and his laurel wreath nearly fell off. “The irresistible Drago Tell Dramis is a Military hero, smothered with medals, and never scared of anything.”

  “I’m not just scared, I’m petrified,” I said. “If I ask Marlise to marry me, and she turns me down, then …”

  Asante sighed. “I don’t understand what’s going on here, Drago. You’re irresistibly handsome, and I’ve seen you charm a girl into tumbling you in less than two minutes, so why are you panicking that your Marlise will turn you down?”

  “Because Marlise doesn’t seem to find me irresistible, and because …” I glanced round to make sure that nobody was lurking close enough to hear what I was saying. “Because the last time I asked someone to marry me, they didn’t just turn me down, they laughed in my face.”

  Part II

  I looked at Asante’s startled expression. “I’d better get us some more glasses of wine before I tell you about that.”

  “You’d better get us a bottle,” said Asante. “This could be a very long conversation. You’ve never mentioned a failed marriage proposal before.”

  “It’s not something I enjoy talking about.”

  “Then why tell me?”

  “I told you, I need your advice. I trust your judgement on relationships more than anyone else I know, but you’ll never understand why I’m so scared about pursuing things with Marlise unless I tell you about Gemelle.”

  I went over to the drinks dispenser, got a bottle of wine, and topped up our glasses before sitting down again. “Do you remember meeting my cousin, Jaxon? He’s Military too, and nearly two years older than me.”

  Asante nodded. “You’ve brought him here four or five times over the years.”

  “Gemelle is his younger sister. She and I are close enough in age that we ended up in the same class at the Military Academy. Up until then, she’d just been a cousin that I met occasionally at the clan hall, but at the Academy we were spending almost every waking hour together. We became close friends, and eventually I realized I was in love with her, but there was a big problem.”

  “Was the genetic link between you too close?” asked Asante.

  I shook my head. There were Betan dialect words to describe every possible genetic relationship, but after barely speaking dialect for two years, I couldn’t remember the right one. I explained it the long way instead.

  “Gemelle’s grandmother and my grandfather were brother and sister, so a relationship between us was perfectly legal. The problem was that Gemelle was already involved with a boy in the same class as us. I’m afraid that didn’t worry me to start with. Back then I really did think I was irresistible. I was certain I could steal Gemelle from him, and I didn’t care how he’d feel about it.”

  I paused to pull a face of self-loathing. “I was a horribly selfish boy, so I didn’t spare the slightest thought for anyone’s feelings but my own. I had a routine of casually using my looks and my smile like weapons to make girls fall for me, so I smirked at Gemelle and expected her to swoon at my feet.”

  “But she didn’t?” asked Asante.

  “No, she told me that she was in what she believed could become a long-term serious relationship, and I should find another girl to tumble.”

  I gulped down a mouthful of wine. “This is where it starts getting really bad. I’d never been rejected before, and I couldn’t believe Gemelle really preferred someone else to me. I pestered her for a few months, thinking she was bound to change her mind, but she didn’t. My ego still couldn’t believe she didn’t want me, so I came up with the theory that she was only staying with her boyfriend because he’d convinced her he wanted a serious relationship. We were nearing graduation, so I was getting increasingly desperate. I decided I had to prove I wanted a serious relationship too, and tried to … outbid the boyfriend by proposing marriage to Gemelle.”

  Asante blinked. “Wasn’t proposing marriage a little drastic in those circumstances?”

  “It wasn’t just drastic, it was ridiculous,” I said. “Looking back at it now, I can understand why Gemelle’s reaction was to laugh at me. She was totally happy with her current relationship, but this ridiculously e
gotistical boy thought he only had to say the word and she’d dump her boyfriend and marry him. Back then, though, I was shocked and angry to be laughed at like that. I was used to getting my own way all the time and …”

  I groaned. “I was a truly disgusting person back then. I’m deeply ashamed of what I did next. I hope I’ve changed and would never act like that again, but I can’t forget …”

  Asante frowned. “What the chaos did you do next, Drago?”

  “I set things up so Gemelle thought her boyfriend was cheating on her. My plan was to split them up, so Gemelle would get together with me instead. The first part of the plan worked but the second didn’t. Gemelle dumped her boyfriend, but she still wasn’t interested in me, and she was obviously really distressed about what had happened.”

  I was silent for a moment. “That was when it finally started occurring to me that I wasn’t the centre of humanity’s space. Other people weren’t toys for me to play with or toss aside at my whim, but human beings with feelings and rights. I sat down and thought hard about what I’d done to Gemelle, and how I’d feel if someone had done that to me. I decided I had to try and put things right, so I went and told her the truth.”

  “What did Gemelle say to that?” asked Asante.

  “She didn’t say a word. She just broke my nose, then stalked off to talk to her ex-boyfriend. Unfortunately, my broken nose was easier to fix than their broken relationship. When we graduated from the Military Academy, the boyfriend was still refusing to forgive Gemelle, which meant she wouldn’t forgive me.”

  I pulled a face. “I’d made a total mess of everything for both of us. On our last day at the Academy, I tried talking to the boyfriend myself. That didn’t help, and Gemelle thought I’d been trying to cause yet more trouble. When we came home to the clan hall on leave, she did everything she could to avoid me, even pointedly walking out of the dining hall when I accidentally sat at the same table as her.”