Earth Song: Twilight Serenade (38 page)

“They have only appeared at council intermittently for the last thousand years,” hse explained, “a century ago, they stopped entirely.”

“Has anyone been to their planet to check on them,” she said half joking.

“They are a very old species,” Z’kal explained. “Their business interests were handled by allies and released clients. When a species gets that old, sometimes they simply fall asleep.”

“How can an entire species fall asleep?”

“That must be an issue with your language. The thought concept is more complicated. They enter a never ending period of inner reflection. Often contemplating high mysteries of philosophy, extreme technology, or even religion in rare cases.” Z’Kal shrugged, they’d adapted the humanism as something they enjoyed for expressing unsureness. P’ing said being unsure was one things humanity excelled at.

“What happens if they don’t return?” Minu asked.

“In another year, their seat will be emptied, and only five will sit the council.”

“Why aren’t new species elevated to the higher order?”

“That, is a very good questions,” P’ing-so said, but added nothing more to it.

“The Poolab do no sit! Let the records record this. This council is seated. Presiding are the Tog.”

“We pass because of business before the Concordia,” Go’kis spoke.

“Noted! The Tanam come before us to lead the council next.”

“This was unfortunate but unavoidable,” P’ing-so told Minu. “However what comes is more ritual, than a matter of council deliberation. Precedents are powerful things, even to the Tanam.”

“We will hold this responsibility,” the Tanam spoke. Minu was now positive that it was Veka up there on that pedestal.

“That’s the bitch that interrogated me after capture,” Aaron whispered in her ear, confirming Minu’s conclusion. “I’d recognize that voice anywhere.”

“We had… words over you a couple years ago on Coorson,” Minu remarked. “I’m sure the kitty cat is over that by now.”

A short time passed as the council was asked to approve mundane items that only had agenda numbers. Minu didn’t bother looking them up. As if the bomb P’ing dropped on her a short time ago wasn’t enough, having Veka running the Concordia today was pretty much the icing on the cake.

She spent the time examining the magnificent crystal tree while the meaningless drudgery of daily government proceeded. Now that they were closer and below the tree instead of observing from a distance, the light coming through looked more blue than anything. It made her head hurt, for some reason.

Above and behind her the gallery of species were almost loud enough to drown out the amplified voices of the Concordia council and announcer.

“Higher order business,” the announcer boomed. “Who comes before this council?”

“We do,” Go’kis said.

“Speak,” Veka ordered from across the floor and above.

“We are the Tog, and today we bring before the Concordia our clients. A species we have cared for and brought to their own. Call them humans.”

“Come forth, as prescribed by tradition,” the announcer spoke. Go’kis gestured and Minu took a breath.

“Ready,” she said.

Minu, all her Legates, and Sergeant Selain were borne aloft on one of those autonomous lifts that had brought them there.

“Good luck,” Aaron said. Minu turned and winked at him. Mindy watched her mother float away with eyes wide with fright.

“Momma will be fine!” Minu said loudly before they were too far away.

The group was lifted high enough to clear the Tog enclosures low walls, then forward and down to the blue-green crystalline floor. Minu had practically grown up with the Concordian technology. She trusted it almost more than anyone she knew. Pip might have trusted it more. Of course Lilith trusted it utterly.

When the invisible lifting fields got within a step of the floor Minu confidently stepped forward. People watching ten thousand light years away on Bellatrix would say she strode forward like she owned the place. Some would say she swaggered. In a hundred thousand homes people cheered. Minu Groves was on deck. This would be good.

Minu’s first thought was being grateful the floor wasn’t as slick as it appeared. How would that have looked to sprawl face first in front of the whole galaxy? Her second thought was how well the entire setup was designed. The Concordian council was many meters above them, and the audience floor was vast and empty. She had the sudden memory of being a tiny girl crawling in their apartment’s kitchen and looking up, up, up to the table which seemed an infinite height above her.

She was aware of P’ing-so next to her, easily keeping pace with hser four legs. “Twenty meters out,” she’d been instructed, “stop and bow into the posture of total respect.”

Minu stopped and went prostrate on the floor, lowering her head to touch the floor. All the humans did the same, Bjorn with some difficulty, while P’ing-so bent only at hser centaur waste just slightly.

“These are humans, our clients,” hse announced loudly, hser voice amplified by the auditorium somehow, “honorable and true they have been. Their debt is paid, their service complete.”

“Do you offer any objection to their petition?” asked the anonymous voice.

“None.”

“Leave us,” Veka growled.

P’ing-so, hser duty completed, offered the same bow to the pedestals as before, then turned to Minu and offered another. Minu wondered, was it slightly deeper? She couldn’t tell, she was still prostrate on the floor and could only barely see hser. A moment later a field buoyed hser up and towards the Tog’s pedestal where they ruled.

“Humans,” the announcing voice spoke, “you have honorably met your obligations to your masters and they are not standing in your way to Awakening. Rise and face your future.”

They stood as one, and the Goydook spoke: “Humans, turn back from this course and return to your masters.”

“We do not,” Minu said loudly, “we chose to go alone.”

“Who speaks for humans?”

“We do,” they all chimed. Minu smiled confidently. She could recognize each of their voices, from Dram’s baritone to Lilith’s musical contralto.

“Your voices are in accord, like our union. This is good, but only one may speak going forward. Who shall that be?”

“I speak then,” Minu said, loud and proud. “Imperator Minu Groves.”

“Very well,” the Goydook said, then fell silent.

Next the T’Chillen hissed. “Humans, turn back from this course and return to your masters! The way is perilous and you are unsure.”

“We take our chances,” Minu again proclaimed loudly, “we face the unknown alone.”

“Who speaks for humans?”

“I do,” she said again then breathed a small sigh. She wasn’t sure they were still anonymous with the T’Chillen. If the snake up there had known how many of his slithering kind she’d killed, this might not have gone well.

The Mok-Tok spoke next. Like the Tanam, Minu had faced them in combat and bested them. She owed them some payback down the road. All those helpless children…

“Humans, turn back while you still can,” the strange voice came forth. Minu knew that somewhere in the mound of hair a tiny mouse-like being was speaking. “There is nothing waiting for you but harsh reality and the dark night of space. None will bleed for you.”

“We do not turn back, we willingly shed our own blood to earn our freedom.”

Minu drew her dagger and carefully nicked her left hand. The dagger went into its sheath and she held the arm out, and inexplicably broke the script. She never knew why, but instead of holding her hand out she formed a fist, and aimed it at the huge furry Mok-Tok far above her.

“Blood for blood,” she said, but that was from the script. As drops of blood fell from her fist, millions on Bellatrix fell even more in love with their beloved leader.

“Who speaks for humans?”

“I do.” Minu had been glad she was the only one required to give blood. “Our blood is joined as one, we stand as one, and my people follow me in this. We are one.”

It was time for the Tanam, but Minu’s eyes were drawn down to the blue-green crystalline floor. Ripples of golden fire were radiating away from her drop of blood on the floor. What the fuck? That wasn’t in the script.

“This is your last chance to turn back,” the Tanam hissed with obvious venom. “Return to your master, safe from doom and despair. You go where none will follow. You go where none dare lead.”

Minu didn’t reply, she was staring at the floor, eyes wide as the golden lightning storm around her blood drop had continued to build as the Tanam spoke, spinning around and around. With Veka’s final word, the lighting storm exploded straight to the tree.

The giant crystalline tree dominated the dome, its branches extended outward at least half the way over the vast seating of the Concordian member area. Even the rare instance of a former client species petitioning for Awakening hadn’t managed to reduce the ever-present din of the assemblage by more than a quarter. When the golden lightning hit the roots of the tree it unleashed a pulse up the trunk the raced through every branch to the very tips, turning the entire tree iridescent blue and casting the light over every square meter of the dome.

Minu gasped at first in the sheer almost painful beauty of it, then put a hand to her mouth as the branches swayed gracefully back and forth for a moment, though there was no wind at all. Slowly, the light faded and she was left with another thought. The blue iridescent crystal looked just like the same material Lilith’s Kaatan made its bots from. The entire tree was made of Azure. She turned and saw Lilith returning her look in stunned amazement.

The last of the light died away but the silence stayed behind. It was a wide, deep silence in such a place usually alive with sound. Minu forgot for a moment why she was there.

Above them the Tanam Veka and the T’Chillen were looking up behind her at the crystal tree. The Mok-Tok could have been playing chess for all Minu knew, the big shaggy hulk of their ride stood there implacably. The Tog P’ing-so and the Goydook were deeply in conversation as if nothing had happened.

Finally, Minu remembered her lines. “We follow our own guidance, we lead with our own kind. We only ask to be part of the Concordia and follow their laws as they are now our own.”

It took Veka a moment to realize it was back to her, and tear to gaze away from what had always been just a huge decoration. What was it now?

“Who speaks for you humans?” she finally managed.

“I do,” she said, her voice a little shaky, not a shout this time.

“Are you ready for an end to darkness? To join the Concordia. To be Awakened to the truths of life?”

“I am, and we are,” she said.

“What does the Tog offer to their departing clients?”

“We give them their planet, Bellatrix by their language,” P’ing-so said from hser high perch.

Minu was stunned. The gift exchange was traditional at the end of the ceremony. Often something useful like a cache of tech, or some EPC. The leasehold on the Bellatrix was worth an immense amount! She’d planned to have to negotiate it with the Tog for a like value.

“The Concordian office of planetary lease and control has recorded that their world has had its lease renewed for nine hundred and ninety-nine years, the maximum period allowable. We now transfer that lease to the humans.”

“So it is noted. And does the client offer a gift in return?”

It was traditional, but some ex-clients were so poor it was not something that was required, or really even expected. Minu had told her friends she’d planned to gift the Tog with a Phoenix shuttle, though later. She didn’t want the general Concordian council know humans had orbital technology. Of course, they had a lot more. Regardless, Minu did what she always did. A snap kick.

“Humanity pledges its help when the Tog call.”

Up on his pedestal, P’ing-so looked down at her without comment.

“We are their friends, their allies, their protectors. Their enemies are ours, now.”

Then hse nodded hser head once.

“Then it is done,” the Tanam said. And it was. “Welcome to the Concordia.”

There was a small reception after the Concordian council completed its day’s business. It was traditional, and seldom of any note. Most young species who became Awakened were completely unknown and the excitement of their joining the Concordia seldom extended beyond them and their former patrons. The humans were an unusual case. It was a rare occasion when a higher order species bid farewell to one of their fostered species.

“Will you attend?” Minu asked P’ing-so as they were leaving the dome. She’d glanced at the tree one last time. It still looked pure blue instead of the blue-green of before. After its one unusual display, it had remained silent.

“This is your day,” P’ing-so had said, “having a higher order species around will interrupt the importance of the day, and remove the center of attention from where it belongs. This is your day.”

There were a number of other species in attendance. The Hgog made an appearance, surprising Minu. “Welcome to the Concordia,” the little spike-covered biped said. They reminded Minu of anthropomorphic porcupines.