The gleaming, streamlined metal of the Alecto reflected the lights of Orion Prime. The ship, dispatched by the HS diplomatic corps, had withdrawn from the orbit of Valentine, a marshy and forbidden moon which, like the famous travel destination Escalus, orbited the giant Verona-whose massive bulk sheltered both satellites around a neutron star.
The decommissioned museum ship had shifted to orbit Francisco, and its antique silhouette looked as strange as a three-masted ship floating in the sky. But during those long years of exile, the vessel had gained in splendor, and passing Ozys often looked upon it with admiration.
"I'm rather relieved to leave Valentine," admitted Captain Andreï to the HS Presidential Council, "but between us-why the Alecto?"
"You're going to host a peace protocol for the civil war with the League," replied Iracema Alta, President of the HS, already focused on another screen for a pressing meeting.
"The League of Antioch demanded that the meeting be held on a ship not far from their own, and unarmed. The Alecto was already disarmed, and I want this resolved as quickly as possible. Antioch is like the ocean winds of Hume, shifting direction every minute, so let's strike while the iron is hot."
"So you're not caught off guard, Madam President," Andreï added, "I should tell you I'm in disgrace with the Admiralty Council. They won't appreciate me being given such a prestigious mission."
"The Admiralty and the Stellar Fleet have proven incapable of managing this conflict, consistently worsening it by piling on senseless bloodbaths. The mere fact that they despise you is a good sign. Captain Andreï, I have no more time to give you, but I ask one favor: make sure peace is signed. You have full authority."
"Yes, Madam President."
The Endymion, the League's mothership, Piorun, cast its immense shadow not far from the Alecto. On board, Sashko Genko, leader of the League, would arrive in a few hours, after an inspection team confirmed that the Alecto was free of deadly traps. The idea brought a faint smile to Andreï's face.
A shuttle from Orion Prime-now under League control-had brought an auxiliary delegation deemed of the highest importance. The fall of Orion Prime had been a major turning point in the conflict, triggering this summit, and there was little doubt the war hero who had led the assault on the station would be among the arrivals.
Andreï, accompanied by Pallas, came to welcome them. Rather than surprise, he felt curiosity as he saw the delegation consisted of a teenage girl with a fierce gaze, a rifle slung over her shoulder, a worn-out stuffed animal on her belt, and an unknown Xeno perched on her shoulder. Beside her, another Xeno stood, vacant-eyed-another unknown species. And yet… Andreï knew Xenos.
Something tightened in the captain's already heavy heart: the girl looked exhausted. Her eyes carried the weight of war and abandonment.
Andreï bowed.
"Welcome aboard, Gorylkin. I'm Captain Andreï."
"Hi."
She was uneasy, scanning the space as if, like Sashko, she suspected the Alecto was riddled with traps. Andreï signed a few gestures in the air toward the tall Xeno, who replied in kind. Gorylkin exclaimed:
"What are you two doing?"
"I'm greeting him, in the Stellar Tongue."
"You speak the Stellar Tongue? Who taught you? Wait-are you part of the Humble Epic of All Life?"
"I learned it from a Xeno friend. Perhaps you'd like to meet him?"
"There are Xenos aboard HS ships now?"
"Only aboard the Alecto."
"Not everyone in the HS fleet is narrow-minded and suspicious, Gorylkin," said Pallas.
"You're the first two I've met. All right, let's do this meeting."
Andreï paused, then turned to Pallas with a knowing look:
"We're running a bit late. We've prepared a room for you to rest in the meantime. There's a dream-inducer in the bed."
"You know your Psi agent won't be able to mess with my head, right? My buddy Alpha protects me from that."
"Then let's hope you don't get any sleep before then, so you're too tired to negotiate."
"That's not gonna happen, Andreï."
She followed him lightly. Walking backward, she signed in the Stellar Tongue toward Andreï:
SHIP OF YOU, BEAUTIFUL
GRATITUDE, Andreï signed back.
YOU LOVE NON-HUMAN PEOPLE, QUESTION
I LOVE ALL PEOPLE, signed Andreï with a smile
CONSEQUENCE, PEACE POSSIBLE
Then she turned around like a child and skipped ahead, marveling at the faded beauty and unnecessary details of a ship from an era when starships were more craft than industry.
The announcement that the negotiations had been postponed caused tension. When a suspicious and somewhat furious Sashko Genko loudly demanded the reason, the Captain simply replied that Gorylkin needed rest-and his anger vanished so quickly that everyone understood the young girl held considerable weight in the League's hierarchy.
"Well played," whispered Aubriana, the HS Council's foreign affairs delegate, but Pallas knew he had only made that decision for Ada's comfort. This kind of simple choice, prioritizing the human being over all else, had bonded his crew to him like a block of stone-even if it meant years of exile around an abandoned moon.
Aubriana was all restraint and firmness: white hair in a bun, Fleet uniform jacket, though she was neither military-trained nor military in manner. She introduced her team to Andreï, finishing with her Psi officer-who was no stranger to the Captain. Solstice had shed her many silver trinkets in favor of military style and uniform. Her posture was now stiff, a sign she'd been back in service for some time. Her gaze avoided Andreï's, though his was devoid of hostility.
"Sol is the Psi officer aboard the Endymion Hades."
"I see that when you're not exiling us to gather dust on some national park, you can follow our recommendations."
"I wasn't responsible for either decision. I would like Solstice to be the Psi supervising the meeting."
"Good to see you again," said Solstice coldly, bowing.
"I know Officer Jovana well," said Andreï, smiling with his eyes. "We were in a relationship while she was undercover, looking for weak links in the army. It was an illegal fraternization, but I'm not telling anyone anything new-it's common on our ships. I fell into depression and asked her to rebuild me psychically. She turned me in, and by the strange workings of the Fleet's internal justice, we were both demoted. And here we are again, Sol. I see we've both climbed back up."
He turned to the seven people surrounding Aubriana to gauge their reactions. They were telling: honesty wasn't exactly in the DNA of politics or the military. Aubriana hesitated.
"Are you implying you don't want to work with her?"
"I'm saying she's fanatically loyal to her mission. My Psi officer, Pallas, is also highly competent."
"Is she more qualified than Sol?"
It felt strange to hear them speak about others in the third person while they were present. Aubriana went on:
"I believe there's a ranking system for Psi power. Let's take the best."
"Let's take both," said Andreï simply. "Antioch will come with one of their Red Psis."
A veil of fear passed over Solstice's eyes.
"I agree. Two won't be too many."
"What are you afraid of, from Antioch's Psis? Are they strong?" asked Aubriana.
"Strong-and violent. Psychic violence is invisible, so rarely checked. A Red Psi might decide to kill us all, just because it suits Antioch's interests."
"Will you be up to it, Sol?" asked Aubriana.
"Pallas will be up to it," said Andreï firmly.
"One last point: a Transient has requested to be present at the summit."
"Unexpected, but good. They'll serve as a guarantor for any commitments made. Pallas, have an Android prepared. We have a lovely chrome model from last century."
"Between us, Andreï, I don't like Transients meddling in our politics."
"I share your view, but I'm realistic. They've bought us centuries ago with their marvels-from the Drift that brought you here, to the artificial gravity that keeps us standing in this hallway. And if we had to choose again, we'd make the same deal. Let's at least thank them for their courtesy. In truth, they wouldn't even need to ask for us to obey their every whim."
He nodded, smiled at Sol, and resumed walking slowly down the corridor with Pallas.
A few hours later, a chime rang at the door of the guest room where Ada and her escort were staying. The girl was already up; her eyes looked sharper, and her face rested. Rifle on her back, she was hunched over a chessboard, placing the pieces randomly.
Andreï entered and asked if Gorylkin wanted to learn.
"Do we even have time?" she asked.
Andreï replied that they did, even though the truth was the meeting would begin the moment Ada left her room-and both the HS and League delegations were on edge, waiting.
He explained the movement of the pieces, and they began a very slow game. Andreï seemed deeply focused on it. Alpha leaned in as well, clearly interested, and the captain signed the rules in Stellar Tongue as he explained them aloud.
"Are you being nice to me so I'll go easy on the HS during negotiations?" Ada asked as she played.
"No."
"I think you're lying."
"I'm an excellent liar. If I ever lie to you, you won't see it coming. But I'm not on the HS's side. I'm on the side of peace. And if the HS delegation-or you, Gorylkin-act in bad faith or for reasons other than lasting peace, I'll pull your ears."
"I still don't believe you, but I wish someone like you existed."
"Here, in this position, your king can't move anymore. You've lost the game."
They shook hands and agreed to go to the negotiation together.
News that the summit was beginning spread as Andreï made his way slowly down the corridors with Ada and her companions, and a tension-subtle but intense-rose around them.
"I have a file on you, Gorylkin, from your Administrative Detention days. I see you were into mathematics."
"That Administrative Detention was a real prison."
"And with math, where are you now?"
"I like prime numbers."
"What's your theory? I mean, about prime numbers."
"I don't know. I'm catching up on human discoveries. I'm at the Riemann Hypothesis."
"Via an AI. The most common theory among amateurs is that the question of prime distribution isn't really a question. It's an answer. It's a property of mathematics. I see them as the pillars of the vast cathedral of numbers. Our discoveries let us walk around them, observe them from different angles."
"So it just is what it is? Sounds like a lazy answer."
"I wouldn't go that far, but it's a possibility. Have you heard of the Veritatis?"
"Everyone talks about it like 'it's freaky' or 'it made me hate math'."
"It's a method discovered by AIs. Basically, you assert something-like 1 = 2. Then you apply the Veritatis method. And it tells you if it's true or not. But it doesn't give the proof. You get the result, but you don't know why. Research in mathematics now consists of making random hypotheses and feeding them into the Veritatis."
"Wait, if you don't have the proof, how can you be sure it's true?"
"The Veritatis self-verifies. But your question is valid. It's the heart of the problem. We've shifted from science to belief. Gorylkin, there are wars and peace treaties, births and deaths, and many worlds discovered every day-but your quest for truth through mathematics is one of the noblest paths a gifted mind can undertake in our time."
The map room was a splendid chamber and, aside from a few picturesque museums on the Big Five, relatively unique in the universe. The Alecto had a gallery of ancient maps from Mythic Earth, all in varnished wood, dominated by a ceiling painted with a blue-and-gold celestial map from antiquity. Since then, maps made of fabric, paper, and synthetic media had been accumulated here. With the advent of the Drift, star maps no longer represented systems in geographic space: Prospero was in the same galactic arm as Earth, but Lennox lay in the Sagittarius Galaxy, and the Ur–Booz–Jerimadeth trio at the edge of the Magellanic Clouds. Thus, worlds were connected by routes annotated with dates, durations, and Drift forces. By convention, they were adorned with stellar whales and medieval dragons; suns were either benevolent or malevolent; black holes were depicted as demons.
Together, the maps formed a mural, an inheritance from all of humanity's cartographers-both fascinating and useful. Pushed against the walls, relegated to the corners, stood a large table already occupied by Sashko Genko, stocky and energetic, and Telemaque, an aide-de-camp responsible for his safety. Beside him-but curiously separated by a gap-was Saturnina, the Psi officer from Antioch who, according to the customs of her order, wore a flowing blood-red robe. She also had with her an antique pen and paper-tools almost as old and absurd as clay tablets. Pale, with white eyes, she radiated a vague sense of unease.
Opposite her sat the HS delegation, led by Aubrianna, and finally, to the side, a Transient had inhabited a polished chrome Android.
Andreï greeted the silent assembly with a gesture and took his place at the last remaining side. Without thinking, Ada sat beside him, flanked by Alpha.
Telemaque made a remark about Gorylkin's rifle, and Sashko silenced him. He and Ada exchanged a knowing smile.
Andreï waited for total silence-the kind that let the gentle hum of the engines below resonate, and the peaceful, cheerful murmur of the crew-and then began:
"Good morning, everyone, and thank you for coming to this summit, which aims to establish and sign a peace treaty in the conflict currently opposing the Human Society and the League of Antioch. Our exchange is being recorded by the ship's LE. A Transient honors us with their presence at this meeting, and I thank them for it. May we have a name by which to refer to you, Transient?"
"Call me Alpha, by your nomenclature."
The Transient's voice did not emanate from the Android-it was ethereal, strangely warm, like the voice of a benevolent ghost.
"There's already an Alpha here," grumbled Ada.
"Two, actually, to be exact. But 'Transient Alpha Alecto' will do for the record. According to our protocols, I must ask whether any individuals here are part of the Cult of the Emprise. This information will have no impact on the decisions made today."
"If it has no influence, why ask?" exploded Sashko. "This is exactly the kind of typical HS hypocrisy!"
"Would you prefer we bypass this protocol?" asked Andreï. "I don't mind."
"Well, I mind," said Aubrianna, raising her hand.
"Great start," muttered Sashko.
"I'll settle this once and for all," said Andreï. "And we'll turn the page."
"I'll interrupt once again," said Sashko, "so we're all clear. I objected to the question, so now you're all going to think I'm part of the Cult of the Emprise. Well, I am. Happy now, Madam Delegate? Yes yes, we all know HS propaganda about the Emprise. To the average citizen, it's a bunch of madmen saying 'the strongest should take and dominate the others'-but that's FALSE. It's a universal Xeno cult that promotes the individual and encourages self-action to achieve one's goals. And since the most ambitious ventures are never solo efforts, the paradox of the Emprise is that its members help one another. It's considerably less hypocritical than Freemasonry, which, a thousand years after its founding, still poisons HS leadership with fat, lazy, dim politicians."
"Without contradicting the League President," added Aubrianna, "some members of the Emprise unfortunately take its tenets too literally. There have been tragedies. This Xeno cult is still under study within the HS."
"Thank you for your additional information," said Andreï. "If there's nothing else to add-"
"I have something to add," said Ada, standing up, which made her as tall as the seated Transient.
"That woman there-her name is Solstice. I don't want her at the table."
"Oh, but... you're Ada?" said Solstice, her eyes fixed on Léon.
"You're Gorylkin? Good god..."
She tried to probe the girl psychically-only to receive a psychic slap from Pallas, who added mentally-and all heard it in their heads-not here! Pallas's power was impressive, equal to the Empty Eyes, and Sol was stunned. Saturnina, meanwhile, was quietly thrilled.
"Officer Solstice is an excellent Fleet asset..." began Aubrianna.
Ada grabbed her rifle and set her eye to the scope, aiming at Sol.
"She's leaving. Right now."
"I imagine no one here wants that MAR to put a hole in Solstice, and then in the ship, causing a deadly depressurization and killing us all," concluded Andreï matter-of-factly.
"We kindly ask you to leave, Psi Officer. Pallas will suffice. Solstice, you certainly know how to leave an unforgettable impression on those you meet."
The Psi Officer slipped out, trembling slightly. Pallas felt a pressure on her psychic perception-it was Saturnina, impressed by the earlier slap, now probing her. Pallas responded with full force, and Saturnina withdrew, though she whispered telepathically: Pallas, no need to scan you to see your little secrets.
With that rather tense introduction behind them, each party presented its vision for an alliance. Almost depressingly, each demanded things that had already been in place before the conflict began-some with symbolic variations, others more substantial, such as broader freedom of worship within the League, less collaboration with the Transients, and more freedom in human-Xeno interactions-for better and for worse. The central point of contention was Orion Prime: recently conquered by the League, at least symbolically under Gorylkin's leadership, it was a major prize. The HS didn't dare demand its return outright, but requested trade and business privileges, which were granted so that thalers could flow freely and multiply.
Andreï accepted everything in an even tone, always calling for calm, sometimes responding with a simple, "why not?" that made a previously absurd proposal suddenly sound obvious. By encouraging each side to fully express their thoughts, and rephrasing those thoughts using strangely acceptable synonyms, he became an unexpected instrument of peace-even if this didn't always serve HS interests.
The Transient, for their part, remained silent.
When silence finally marked the exhaustion of demands, Aubrianna brought up a new topic:
"Let's talk about Dante."
"We have no reason to talk about Dante," Sashko shot back sharply.
"It's an extension of Antioch, and a tool of social peace."
"Refresh my memory," said Andreï-though he knew all about it-"Dante is that planet that's a prison?"
"Let's say administrative detention world," Sashko finessed.
"The mortality rate in our Administrative Detentions is zero," said Aubrianna.
"The mortality rate on Dante is high," said Sashko with a grin. "It's hell on Earth. But it's mostly a boogeyman. We scare people with Dante, and they behave. Our society progresses. There are fewer deaths on Dante than there are victims of crime on Prospero's lower floors. You decide what's more acceptable for the common good."
"As part of these negotiations, can Antioch commit to improving living conditions on Dante?" asked Andreï, nodding in a way that said, only if you're willing.
"Yes, yes. But don't let it leave this room. I don't want the exiles to die. But I want those who aren't exiled to believe in Dante's cruelty."
The rest of the discussion on the topic ended in a quiet exchange of glances.
"Have we settled all points?" the captain finally asked.
"No," said Ada, who had remained mostly silent until then. "Who owns Caliban-1?"
Both parties immediately claimed it, and Andreï raised a hand to quiet them. The Transient moved imperceptibly to look at Ada.
"Who do you think it belongs to, Gorylkin?"
"The Stellar Tongue was discovered on that planet. I think it should belong to all Xenos, and all humans. To everyone, basically."
"To make that planet a common space, like interstellar space itself? I think that's an interesting idea. What do you think, Sashko and Aubrianna?"
"I disagree. I don't have information on Caliban-1 right now, but of course it's been studied by HS xenobiologists, and we've claimed it. The Stellar Tongue was discovered by a human, wasn't it? I think so," said Aubrianna.
"Your knowledge is vague at best," Sashko said sarcastically. "Let's be clear: the League deployed fourteen habitation stations-shareplaces-around Caliban-1. Most of them were wiped out in unilateral massacres by the HS. Surprise attacks. Bloody. Unjust."
"We had good reasons to act…"
"Yes, your official explanation was that we were manufacturing weapons from Transient artifacts in those stations. That's false, and everyone knows it now. They were settlers. But fourteen stations were a lot, and you were about to lose a system-so you opened fire. They were innocent. Isn't that right, Gorylkin? She knows. She was there. She's a survivor of your operations."
"Stop talking nonsense," growled Ada. "I asked for Caliban-1 to be a planet for everyone."
The discussion was about to flare up again when the Transient raised a hand. With their warm, otherworldly voice, they said simply:
"Caliban-1 is a cold-climate planet, young, with high mountains. High humidity and a dense water cycle create a permanent cloud cover. Humans can survive there with light oxygen support. With your modern genetic modifications, perhaps even that is unnecessary. No civilization has yet emerged there-only a few sentient marine and land creatures. There are some ruins of a now-transcended civilization... a colonial outpost. No relics exist that could significantly advance your society's progress-except for one: a complete guide to a Xeno language, the Stellar Tongue, which has become popular among certain Xeno civilizations."
"Among ALL Xenos!" shouted Ada.
"Among all Xenos known to you," the Transient corrected. "To conclude: there are a thousand worlds beyond the Far Gate more suited to your civilization's development than Caliban-1. It would be unwise to hinge lasting peace on such a place… but humanity is not immune to folly."
"Having heard this, it does not seem unreasonable to follow our Transient advisor's suggestion and defer the question of Caliban-1 for one hundred years," said Andreï. "Since all points have now been addressed, do you all agree to draft a peace convention?"
Ada slammed her hand on the table and stood.
"I'm out of here."
"And where will you go, Gorylkin?"
"None of your business, Captain No-Balls."
"Your shuttle has returned to Orion Prime. Would you accept a Tyger from the Stellar Fleet?"
"A ship with a tracker on it, I bet."
"That's true," admitted Andreï shamelessly.
"But it's better than no ship at all. And you're free to find the tracker and remove it. If I were you, I'd accept. A ship is a fine farewell gift."
"I'll take it. But we'll meet again."
"Practice your chess until then. Pallas, ask an officer to handle the arrangements."
Pallas bowed and issued a mental command. As Ada departed, furious, flanked by her Xenos-more impassive than ever, more robotic even than the Android standing across from them-Captain Andreï proceeded to the drafting and signing of a peace treaty that he had conducted masterfully.
Saturnina took her leave with a languid stride, passing by Pallas for one last confrontation-or perhaps seduction? Like all red Psis, she seemed half-mad. She also gave the Captain a slow once-over, as if measuring him-or mocking him.
"So the saying 'a Red Psi never leaves without a life' is being challenged today," said Pallas with dangerous irony.
"It's an exaggeration," replied Saturnina. "That said, many Antiochians would prefer it weren't. But since you insist, if I'm not to take a life, I'll take something else-through a little phrase: the trust your dear Captain places in you. Andreï, there are more secrets in your Psi officer's heart and mind than in the earth and sky. Secrets she'd rather you never discover."
"She may keep her secrets," Andreï said with a faint smile and sovereign calm. "Pallas has my complete trust. Go in peace."
Pallas sighed. More secrets than in the earth and the sky…