17

  T HE ACTUARIUM DID NOT MEET Kara’s expectations. She envisioned the very heart of a galactic empire to be a palatial spectacle lined in gold, with giant windows allowing in brilliant sunshine, and high-tech magic to create the feel of unending wealth. Yet the nondescript stone façade with tiny windows, dimly lit interior corridors, marble staircases, and silver-framed portraits of deceased bureaucrats in dark suits bore a greater resemblance to a bank.

  A weight hung in the air, the silence broken only by footsteps on hard floors. Kara’s team passed few people, and none acknowledged them. She saw an occasional tablet but no holos. Security conducted a manual body search without scanners.

  “Six hundred years,” Lt. Cambria said when Kara asked the building’s age. “It has been perfectly preserved.”

  She spoke with pride, which Kara found astonishing. Her briefing said more money passed through the Actuarium in a month than some planetary economies generated in a year. The governing body made the most critical economic decisions for the free worlds.

  Men and women bore little difference beyond hairstyles. They wore similar suits, with triple-breasted jackets and tight-fitting dark slacks. Their black shoes carried a spit polish.

  “We’re on the sub-administrative level,” Cambria said when Kara persisted. “Identify the managers by their pinstripes.”

  Henri leaned over to Kara.

  “Rule by accountants.”

  “Which means?”

  “No matter which direction we push the dialogue, they will circle back toward the ledger. Keep it fresh in mind.”

  “In other words, profit before lives. I’m familiar with the concept. I was raised by seamasters.”

  Cambria led them up two flights of marble stairs until they stood outside the Chamber House. She explained visitor protocol and how the Admin Council conducted the session, called In Cloister.

  “The public gallery will be empty, which means the Council may choose to relax the usual formalities. However, you must not deviate from protocol unless the Duomo announces a change.”

  She led them through oversized double doors and into the most underwhelming room Kara had ever ventured into.

  Tall industrial pillars flanked a hemispheric, empty gallery. Two tables, lit by copper-shaded lamps and fitted with microphones, filled a center well. Cambria showed them to unpadded wooden chairs and noted glasses of water. She made no mention of refills.

  The Council bench dominated the chamber. The eight-foot stone façade bore elaborate carvings, perhaps depicting a scene from history, with the words Shunta Hia centered above a long, illegible passage beneath. What words Kara did make out bore a vague resemblance to early Engleshe. Nine spotlights beamed down upon well-padded high-back chairs.

  “The Council will arrive momentarily. I will wait outside to retrieve you when the session concludes. Any final questions?”

  “We’re good,” Yusef said. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

  Cambria left without another word.

  Rikard cleared his throat.

  “One word comes to mind: Funereal.”

  Henri, sitting next to Yusef, chuckled.

  “Your briefing spoke of golden temples and opulence everywhere the eye moved. Yet it all seems quite tired.”

  Yusef shrugged. “Those were the stories I heard growing up. Same ol’ tales on the trade routes. How else would you expect the richest people in the known universe to live? Like everything else with Orzed, it was propaganda.”

  Kara wiped a finger across the table and held it under the lamp.

  “Dust.”

  Rikard swiped dust, too.

  “Either they haven’t conducted business in here for some time, or they’re cheap. They won’t pay to keep this place spotless.”

  “You might be right,” Henri said. “Old Earth mythology featured stories of dragons so in love with their hordes of gold they dared not part with a single coin.”

  “I’ve heard those myths, but this Council funds a galactic military with thousands of starships and millions of soldiers. We know from experience how much that costs. They do open the purse strings.”

  Yusef grunted. “Because the return on their investment is too good to pass up. A war machine creates opportunities in industry like no other. Think about the Collectorate. There’s new wealth popping up on the most unlikely planets because of the UNF.”

  “Point taken,” Rikard said. “If the Council spends a few million on this place, where’s the return? In the end, they’re cheap.”

  Kara put it another way.

  “I think they’d prefer to say frugal.”

  Henri drew a circle in the dust.

  “No. They’d call it smart.”

  The early judgments about their hosts ended as doors behind the stone bench opened, sending a flood of light forward.

  The Council entered with stoic faces and stern shoulders. Each stood behind their chair until a woman in the center nodded both ways. They reached forward and triggered a small sign that glowed with their name and title. Kara made two observations: The second to last seat on the left remained empty, and each Councilperson wore a white, ruffled collar, tacked on above their suit. The spotlights created a halo effect.

  The central woman adjusted her microphone.

  “My name is Olivia Peron, Duomo of the Administrative Council. I have been told you were briefed on protocol. Therefore, I will skip to the business at hand. Speakers will introduce themselves when they are handed the floor.

  “We have convened today to consider a proposal which is both unprecedented and based on assumptions which we have neither verified nor quantified. In the six hours since your warship entered our space without warning, the Council and the Admiralty have reviewed your proposal with the skepticism it deserves. Do not take our presence to mean we view your request with favor. Our questions are many, and our patience toward interlopers with wild claims will not endure. Having said that, I will direct the floor to Adm. Jameson Harkness for the military assessment.”

  Harkness? Where had Kara heard that name before? He sat to the Duomo’s far right, beyond the empty chair. Unlike the others, he wore a chest full of medals and bars.

  “Thank you, Duomo. I take the floor.” Rather than launching into a speech, the clean-shaven Admiral with slick black hair laid his sunken eyes on Yusef. “Adm. Matook, do you remember me?”

  Yusef raised his mic and leaned forward.

  “I do, Admiral. Mostly through motivational vids. I was briefly stationed aboard the Prynn after you took control of Fifth Battalion. You met with Capt. Ruddick, as I recall.”

  “He was a fine officer. A great Talon. A difficult loss.” Harkness paused. “At that time, you were a Specialist 1st Ladder. Correct?”

  “I was. Less than a year into service.”

  “Now here we are ten years removed. I speak for the entire Orzed Command. You, it appears, oversee a system fleet in the sector of space where you currently reside. A sector that, until today, existed only in the wildest theory of fringe scientists. You arrive in a warship with impressive offensive capability. Yet you do so open-handed, risking attack by overwhelming forces. You had to know you were likely listed as a deserter, along with your ship’s Captain. Either you’re a traitor in disguise, a fool, a truly desperate man, or one of the most courageous Talons I’ve ever known. Perhaps all rolled into one. What say you, Admiral?”

  Yusef smiled. “Thank you, sir, for not denigrating my rank. As to my actions, I did not desert the Talons. Circumstance led my unit into a different fight. Capt. Woolsey and I both knew we could be executed as deserters, but we also knew you wouldn’t accept the Lightfoot or our proposal without the word of Talons. We sacrificed everything for the Confederation, and we never lost our desire to kill Swarm. We return now because the people we lead share an enemy with the free worlds. We’ve built a navy that can join with Orzed’s fleet to end the Swarm threat for good. That’s what I say, Admiral.”

  Kara was proud of Yusef. The first day she met him, Yusef was full of bombast and theater. He told the story of the Dameraat as if he was a propagandist for the Twenty Talons. Though he was still good for a hearty laugh, he carried the steel of a man who held countless lives in his hands.

  “Thank you, Admiral,” Harkness said before he addressed the Council. “A short time ago, I received a report from our inspector onboard Lightfoot. He interviewed Capt. Woolsey extensively and is satisfied with the man’s veracity. He has no reason to believe the ship bears any threat to the Confederation. He recommends we consider the proposal, pending further proof of their ability to back up their claims. Naturally, the proposal would also have to go through a comptroller RAR assessment. I leave the floor, Duomo.”

  Yusef’s long sigh bothered Kara. What did he know?

  “Thank you, Admiral,” Olivia Peron said. “I retake the floor. I should inform the delegation: We discussed our initial reactions to your proposal In Cloister one hour ago. Four believed it lacked merit and voted to deny your request to meet. Had my nephew Alazar not been off world on important business, you would have been rejected. In light of the Admiral’s latest report, perhaps a few sentiments have changed. I advise you to choose your responses to our questions with care. Your proposal hangs, as they say, on a razor’s edge. Do I have a request for the floor?”

  Kara felt a deep chill; she knew where the Duomo stood.

  A man two seats to Peron’s left buzzed in.

  “I direct the floor to Council Angel Duma.”

  A bearded middle-aged man leaned into his microphone.

  “Thank you, Duomo. I take the floor,” he said. “I want to welcome each of you to the Chamber House. I should say right off: What you have done today is extraordinary. Not only have you presented us with a potential new avenue for dealing with our longstanding issues, but you’ve literally opened up the universe. The household I represent has sat on the Council for almost a century, and many served in uniform, including my late brother.

  “I’m not a military man. I defer to Adm. Harkness to say whether your proposal is viable. I do know this: More often than not, we lose direct battles with the Swarm. The toll is enormous. The Swarm fleet has never been larger. What can you say to convince me that we should align with forces unknown to us in a potentially cataclysmic fight to the death?”

  The four looked at each other. Were they supposed to answer without being addressed by name? Lt. Cambria didn’t mention that protocol. Council Duma broke the confusion.

  “I’d like to hear from all of you, but perhaps Adm. Matook first.”

  Yusef leaned forward.

  “Thank you, Council Duma. I don’t need to review military history. We can make this decision based on the present. Ninety-five percent of Orzed’s fleet surrounds Esperanza, leaving the other nineteen free worlds all but defenseless. The Swarm have not deployed to a new Conversion target in more than two years. It’s simple. They’ve changed their strategy, and you know it.

  “You’re inviting them to pick a planet – maybe several – and have at it, so long as they don’t come after Esperanza. I believe the Admiralty also knows there’s a risk in this maneuver. With the fleet in one system, the Swarm might decide to bring the cataclysm here. If they annihilate your fleet, they’ll feel no hesitation to savage all the free worlds. The old Empress was patient. Is the new one?”

  Council Duma shared a nervous glance with the woman to his left. Kara saw the family resemblance. Twins?

  “Before I hear from the others,” Duma said, “I’d like to ask Adm. Harkness a question. Is Adm. Matook’s assessment viable? I’ve not heard such a dire forecast.”

  Harkness coughed. “We believe the Empress is realigning military priorities but only to alter proportional Conversion tactics. In effect, to streamline their process. We don’t believe she will alter the existing Crusade of one world at a time.”

  “That sounds incomplete, Admiral. Have we assembled the fleet here in order to make invasion easier for the next target?”

  “While that might be the ultimate effect, we have withdrawn to Esperanza as a precautionary measure. The fleet can be wherever it is needed within hours.”

  “You will say unequivocally, Esperanza is not in danger?”

  “Correct, Council Duma. No danger.”

  Duma placed a hand over his microphone and whispered to his likely twin.

  “Adm. Matook, I have no cause to dispute our top authority on the Swarm Crusade. So, I must reiterate my original question to the delegation but with caveats. You claim our combined forces will destroy the Swarm, but we have only your word and a broad outline. I wonder: Do you see us as genuine partners? Or do you expect us to endure the greater pain in order to save your new people?”

  Kara saw Yusef scribble letters in the dust. RAR.

  “Council Duma. We are prepared to draw a battle group from every system in our sector and send them where needed to fight the enemy in Swarm space. We will fight here. We will bring tactics and technology you do not possess, none of which we covered in the outline in order to maintain security. We have weapons that will break through Swarm Crust faster and annihilate capital ships with remarkable efficiency. Lightfoot has the destructive capability of any four Orzed star cruisers. Yes, Council Duma, we want to head off a Swarm invasion of our worlds. But we prefer to fight them on offense, come what may.”

  “Your final proposal, Adm. Matook, includes a direct assault on the Sturgeon itself. We have never dared enter the Rally Fournos system. Aside from being considered sacred to the Risen Church, it is a navigational nightmare. You suggest your fleet, sight unseen, can change that dynamic?”

  “I do. I also believe the Orzed Admiralty will agree when we reveal the full extent of our plans.”

  “Interesting.”

  “A final point, Council Duma. Earlier, Adm. Harkness mentioned performing an RAR assessment on our proposal. I’ve heard of this. Risk Asset Reward. It’s a budgetary process, correct? It often takes weeks or months. Yes?”

  “It does, Admiral.”

  “We have no time for it. The Swarm are preparing to move. They have been actively scouting our sector for a year. We believe they possess the tech to jump to our worlds. We also believe they will use Orzed’s current maneuver against you.”

  Duma sighed into his microphone.

  “Admiral, RAR is how we work. We manage twenty-one global economies. The ledger must line up, and the projections must make sense. I realize I asked to hear from the others, but I’ll leave the floor. Perhaps Duomo Peron can elaborate.”

  Did Kara see smugness in Olivia Peron’s grin? Was she about to explain as if talking to children?

  “I’ll avoid the details for the sake of time and patience,” she said. “We wage war with careful projections to ensure physical cost is minimized in ships, equipment, support systems, and lives. Detailed RARs allow us to determine material and human expense. Every Talon receives a salary, most of which is deferred to family. Death benefits are one-fifth the salary. Therefore, we must project how many deaths should occur to achieve military objectives, train replacements, and balance our ledger. The military operation you propose will be incredibly expensive and unprecedented in scale.”

  Kara’s jaw fell. Did she hear this woman right? The ledger determined how many soldiers should die?

  No. It can’t be that simple.

  The grimaces on the faces beside her revealed they came to the same conclusion.

  Henri Kato spoke into his microphone.

  “May I take the floor, Duomo?”

  He spoke with a conciliatory tone.

  “You may,” Peron said.

  “I do not wish to take issue with your budget methodology. For us, profit and loss is measured entirely in life. We represent thirty-five billion humans. They belong to a union recently created in a spirit which says everyone has value, may speak their mind, and may live their dreams. At great expense, we built a vast navy for a single purpose: To protect the values of our union. We promised to protect and serve their interests. If our economies must be bankrupted to accomplish this feat, we will endure the temporary pain. It is far preferable to the alternative.”

  “You speak with nobility, Mr. Kato. The Council appreciates your position. However, we lived with war for generations. During that time, we developed a careful system which allows the free worlds to flourish despite the great expense of conflict. Along the way, many have been sacrificed, but the ledger remains balanced and economies thrive. You ask us to put our system at risk.”

  “Sacrifice,” Rikard said, his tone less conciliatory. “Is that the word you apply to the Converted worlds?”

  “You are out of order, sir.”

  The woman to Angel Duma’s left buzzed in.

  “Duomo, I wish to hear this man speak. Mr. Brish-nix-ski. We should relax protocol to allow for a free-flowing discussion. I request a vote. Show of hands.”

  Duomo Peron twisted her lips as if a naughty student talked back.

  “Council Abril Duma wishes for a cessation of protocol. All in favor, raise your hand.”

  Both Dumas did. For an instant, the request appeared dead. Then the man to Duomo Peron’s immediate right raised his hand, which left Peron visibly put out. Adm. Harkness followed suit.

  “We have a tie,” Peron said. “In lieu of no majority, I …”

  Another hand went up to the left of the Dumas.

  “I change my vote,” the Councilman said.

  “So be it. Speaking protocol is ceased.”

  Abril Duma spoke. “Please, sir. I apologize for the Council, and for struggling to pronounce your name. You may continue.”

  “Call me Rikard. My friends do. Council, I know first-hand about the impact of war on an economy. My world lost ninety million people in three years. Eight cities are now nuclear wastelands. In the aftermath, unemployment reached forty percent. Centuries of accumulated wealth dried up. Six years later, we’re recovering. We are nearing full employment, and no world more enthusiastically supported the construction of a navy than ours.

  “We did so not because we crave war. On the contrary, we are building a wall to prevent another one from devastating our planet. We were not set upon by invaders. We turned on each other. Our wounds will not heal for generations, but they will heal. If our children can grow up without the fear of fire raining from the sky, we will be grateful. We fight for them. These Swarm are relentless. As long as they push across your galaxy, your children will be afraid. Prosperous perhaps, but afraid. We will suffer huge losses fighting the Swarm, but we will also rid ourselves of the fear. I believe, at some level, you also want to be rid of the fear.”