The Phoenix Rising (4 page)

Less than five minutes after sending the
request, the panel beeped. He hoped it was Tristan agreeing to set
up the meeting between him and the Organization but no such
luck.

“
Hey, Calvin... got a
minute?” The voice that filtered over the speakers belonged to
Miles. He seemed less jovial than usual and his tone creaked with
anxiety.

“
This had better not be
about gambling,” replied Calvin. Even before they’d arrived in
Gemini System, Calvin had forbidden Miles to participate in any
gambling of any kind. He’d bailed out his dear friend once, at
great expense, when the less wise man bet his way into a debtors’
detention cell on Praxis One. As far as Calvin was concerned,
rescuing Miles financially was only worth doing once. His bank
accounts certainly agreed.

“
Gambling? No. I’ve been
good,
honest
.”

“
Alright then, what?” asked
Calvin. If he hadn’t been gambling, then Miles had probably spent
most of the time aboard the station plastered out of his mind. The
local liquor selection was wider and more potent here in Polarian
space.

“
Just want your take on the
Renora situation. Any chance it’s linked to what happened in
Abia?”

The mere mention of Abia
made Calvin’s heart start pounding and gave him a nauseous feeling.
“
What
situation?”

“
Haven’t you been watching
the news?” asked Miles.

“
No. I haven’t paid any
attention to current events since we arrived.” He’d recently been
cut off from the Intel Wing databases and wasn’t yet in the habit
of scouring the civilian news services for their limited
offerings.

“
I think you’d better.”
There was a dark ominousness to Miles’ words.

“
Okay...” said Calvin,
feeling a spike of anxiety. “What news service should I tune
into?”

“
It won’t matter,” said
Miles. “Let me know your thoughts once you get caught up on the
details.” Miles disconnected.

Calvin used the panel to connect to navigate
the information nets he could and, after tuning into the primary
news service of Capital World, sent the results to his display and
cranked the volume.

“—
no word yet on when that
will happen,” a reporter was saying. The screen was split in half
with a reporter on the right and footage of violence on the left. A
mob of people ran like hell every which way, fleeing heavy ordnance
as it rained down and—in seconds—disintegrated the urban landscape
into fire and debris. Calvin grimaced watching it. Apparently the
graphic images had been captured by a witness on the ground with a
somewhat low quality recorder.

“
What’s the feeling like
there, Ray?” asked an off-screen voice.

After a second or two delay, the reporter
replied. “The feeling is one of intense panic and anger. Many of
the people gathered here have expressed to me that they have
friends and relatives on Renora. No one who spoke to me has gotten
any word yet on whether or not their loved ones are safe.”

“
It’s a tragic situation
indeed.” The display changed to show a man seated at a desk on a
newsroom floor. He had immaculately parted hair with greying
temples and stunning blue eyes. “For those just tuning in, tragedy
has struck the empire. We have confirmed reports that planet Renora
has been attacked and severely ravaged by an interstellar force. It
is not yet known who was behind the attack, or what motivated it.
The Assembly is in emergency session. No statement yet from—” he
paused, listening to something being spoken over his earpiece. “We
now go live to the floor of the Imperial Palace where King Akira is
about to address the empire.”

The camera jump-cut to an elegant hall where
a press corps had gathered around a small podium. The image changed
to a close-up of the very familiar, distinguished face of the king.
His hair was thin and grey, and his red eyes and tired skin showed
the fatigue and stress that taxed him. But as he spoke, his voice
was firm and resolute, and revealed no weakness and asked for no
sympathy.

“
Citizens and subjects of
the empire, wherever you may be, I implore you to remain calm. I
can confirm that there has indeed been an attack on Renora. We
cannot estimate the casualties yet but, so far, early reports
indicate that the attack was limited to the government center and
the orbital structures. It is a shocking and terrible injustice
that occurred today, an attack on freedom itself. A great and
terrible evil has shown its head. But fear not! As shepherd and
guardian of this great nation, I swear to you, this attack will not
go unanswered. Justice will be done. Our military in every system
has been put on high alert status; the safety and security of this
empire will be protected! The wheels are in motion and the peace
and prosperity of this great nation will continue to
prevail.”

After these few words, the king walked away
from the podium, unwilling to take any questions, and the camera
jump-cut back to the studio. Calvin switched the broadcast off and
began searching the public network for any information he could dig
up on Renora and the attack. There wasn’t much at this point—mostly
speculation—but what little there was made no kind of sense.

Renora was a system on the edge of the
empire, near Polarian space. Its only inhabited planet was also
named Renora and boasted a population of about eight billion. Like
most Imperial worlds, its government was centered into an urban
district and from there the logistics of the planet were run.
Apparently that part of the planet had been the exclusive target
and had been savagely bombed from orbit. Who the attacking ship—or
fleet—was remained a closely guarded secret, and how the attacking
force had bypassed the planet’s defenses was another mystery.

Five minutes after the attack commenced, the
planet sent its final message. Then it had gone dark and stopped
sending broadcasts of any kind. It was largely believed that the
attacking force had wiped out the communication infrastructure that
connected the planet to the rest of the empire via kataspace. Since
then all traffic to Renora had been diverted and military and
intelligence ships had undoubtedly raced to the scene. The Intel
Wing archives probably had a great deal more information, but
unfortunately Calvin could no longer access them.

“
Who could have done this?”
he asked himself aloud as he scanned over an extensive list of
planetary defenses that had apparently been inadequate to repel the
attack. He ran through his list of possible suspects in his
head—anyone with enough power to execute such a deadly strike. No
motive for any of the groups stood out to him.

The Polarians were near Renora, but they
were generally uninvolved in Imperial politics. Being far more
interested in their own affairs and spiritualism. The Rotham
government had the means, but only risked war by such an action—and
had selected a strategically useless target. As for the empire
itself, Calvin was afraid to think it had the motivation, and the
ruthlessness, to bomb its own people. Smaller cells and terrorist
groups probably didn’t have the means to perform such a high
profile attack, for instance he couldn’t imagine CERKO—which had
failed to even assassinate him—to be able to calculate and execute
something like this. And lastly he considered Raidan’s Organization
but doubted it had an interest in harming the very people it
claimed to be defending. So he was left unable to form a
hypothesis. And his insides ate at him, filling him with a rush of
anxiety. A compelling need to comprehend an increasingly confusing
picture. He guessed that Miles was right, that this attack, and
what they’d seen at Abia, and the changes in the government... was
all connected. It had to be.

He did not believe Renora was an arbitrary
target, but wasn’t quite sure why it had been selected for such
abuse. Strategically, its positioning was worthless. It didn’t keep
a very large military presence and was not a good striking position
into, or out of, the empire. As for its local resources, Renora was
no better endowed than the average Imperial system, and didn’t
offer anything unique. The only novelty of the planet seemed to be
its culture. The mostly unpopular, but growing, pro-democracy
social movement had its origins there. And Renora was home to
several of the most liberal universities staffed with the
professors who published the most controversial papers.

The empire had elements of representative
government, but the largest consolidation of power rested in the
hands of the monarch. And that had never satisfied the
revolutionary culture of Renora. Media there had on more than one
occasion criticized the king harshly, and there was more sympathy
there towards historic enemies of the empire than existed anywhere
else—particularly aimed at the Rotham Republic. Many of the elites
of Renora admired the republican government of the Rotham, and had
pushed for social reforms to mirror their “progress.”

Such reforms had almost universally failed
to take root. But, in this corner pocket of the empire, these ideas
were trendy and popular. Though they had never risen to such
prominence as to enter the dialog anywhere else. Imperial forces
maintained order from the government center and the local
leadership, combined with Imperial administration, had kept the
system in line. Now that the pro-Empire faction had been mostly
wiped out... Calvin guessed that the planet would see a great deal
of unrest.

The panel beeped again. This time with the
reply to his requisition forms. It was from Tristan.

“
The additional resources
you requested are being organized and will be made available for
transfer as soon as possible. Additionally, the Gemini Director has
agreed to meet with you. Tomorrow. 0930 L.T. Come alone to deck
one-hundred and fifteen. Room C-3. Don’t be late.”

It’s about
time
...

Chapter 4

When the IWS Desert Eagle arrived at Capital
World, it was rushed to the top of the docking queue and cleared
almost immediately. Captain Nimoux went aboard the station alone
where a party of government aids and marines was waiting for
him.

“
It is an honor to meet you,
sir,” said the leader of the group. He was a middle-aged man in a
suit-and-tie with dyed black hair and teeth that were just a little
too white to be natural. He extended a hand and Nimoux shook it
uncomfortably, he hated the celebrity treatment he received these
days. And found it only hindered the effectiveness of his work as
an intelligence operative.

“
I was expecting to see
Director Edwards,” said Nimoux.

“
The Director apologizes
that he couldn’t be here. An urgent matter detained him on the
planet surface. But I will fill you in on the way.”

The aid briefed Nimoux as he and the others
walked briskly through the crowded orbital station, which had a
stronger-than usual military presence on every deck. Even though it
had been almost a standard day since the attack on Renora, the high
alert status remained in effect empire-wide.

Nimoux and his escort took a military
gunship, which was waiting for them, and departed at once for the
planet. The tiny craft plummeted toward the surface at a much
steeper angle than Nimoux was used to, charging through pockets of
air turbulence like they didn’t matter.

The aid finished his briefing—which didn’t
tell Nimoux anything new. Just gave him a summary of what he could
expect when he met with the Assembly, including a review of
etiquette. No explanation for why he’d been summoned to the
Assembly floor to weigh in as an expert witness during the ongoing
emergency session. He hadn’t been at Renora during the attack, or
anywhere near it, so he doubted he would be of much use. But orders
were orders. And on the off-chance that he could contribute
something useful, he was happy to.

The view out the window was marvelous and
Nimoux took in the spectacular sight of the brightly-lit, urban
supersprawl spread out before him. More people lived here than any
other planet in the galaxy—nearly nineteen billion. The enormous
population yielded awesome productivity but was hell to sustain.
Capital World was the only planet in the empire that was resource
upside-down. Energy, food, and even fresh water had to be imported.
And every day thousands of freighters needed to dock with one of
the planet’s dozens of orbital platforms to unload supplies which
were then shipped below.

Most of the surface was covered in ocean,
but where there was land, it was painted over by massive
skyscrapers that reached up for kilometers. Nearly all the surface
flora had been cleared away and the planet was only kept habitable
by the tremendous amount of marine life—which the government avidly
protected.

Seen from the heavens, the great, glittering
anthill that was home to so many billions of humans seemed like
madness. But there was an order to the madness. And Nimoux doubted
anyone could gaze down upon it without feeling a sense of awe.

They landed and took a car to the Assembly
Hall in the Capitol District. It was an enormous, immaculate white
building with marvelously landscaped grounds. Security was heavy
and it was a process gaining admittance, even though he was
expected.

Eventually he was taken inside and brought
to the antechamber of the Assembly Floor. There his escort left him
and he pushed on through the main entrance alone.

The Assembly Floor was an enormous room,
lusciously decorated with rich burgundy carpet, sweeping tapestries
along the far wall, and more than a few tasteful—if not a bit
ostentatious—statues. The most prominent feature was the
stadium-like set of stacked balconies that surrounded the room,
seating for all three-hundred and seventy-eight members of the
Assembly. Nimoux guessed that many of these seats were often left
vacant due to absent representatives, however today the chamber was
packed full of bodies. Virtually every seat around and above him
was filled by a diverse collection of people, representing every
planet in the empire.