2173 AD
૨૧૨૭ MA

Forna Qorni returned to her office at just short of a sprint. This was a delicate operation she was running, and she didn’t really trust Dases Brid to run the show. One screw-up and this would all come tumbling down.

She had been stalling, using every trick in the book. Motions to adjourn, motions to recommit, motions to bring bills to the floor from committee, motions to assign bills to different committees. She made them as urgent motions by the minority leader, which only required 400 votes to bring up for consideration. This would come back to bite her soon – the rules committee had already prepared a change in the rules preventing this kind of delay in the future, but they were holding onto it because Zeramblin knew that bringing a rules change to the floor would just mean another delay.

It was a complicated juggling act. The motions had to be made at precisely the right times, in precisely the right way. Any deviation would allow Zeramblin to punch through. The bill would come to the floor, and debate would begin, and once that happened, it was only a matter of time. Short of a request from the Emperor for a meeting, there was nothing that could pull her off the floor right now.

Of course, that was exactly why she was nearly running. One doesn’t turn down the Emperor, especially when His Imperial Majesty shows up in your office. She could count on one hand the number of times the Emperor had been to anyone’s office. You go to the Emperor, he doesn’t come to you.

It didn’t matter that the Emperor had not-so-subtly signaled his support for the measure. He’d declared all of the new cabinet Members of the Order of the Emperor within two days of the palace coup, and once the bill had passed the committee, he’d named Yamanu Neutha a Friend to Archavia; at the ceremony, the Emperor had reminded Neutha that he, too, would be a member of the Order of the Emperor when he became a citizen.

And yes, the Emperor had used when.

But he was the Emperor. He wanted to meet with her. And she was a loyal Imperial subject. Of course she’d drop everything to meet with him. Literally anyone would.

Qorni rushed past her receptionist with barely a nod, and made a beeline straight for her office. She stopped just short of her door, nodding to the two guards who stood watch on either side of it. She took just a moment to recompose herself, then entered.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” she said, politely. “What a lovely surprise.”

Emperor Tiernan remained seated, but then, that was protocol. He did nod to her, though, and said, “No, it isn’t. I imagine you’ve been cursing my name from the floor to your desk. Don’t worry, Rep. Armac and the Floor Leader both gave their word that they won’t try to trip Rep. Brid up while we talk.”

Qorni took a seat behind her desk, and frowned. “Did they.”

“Yes, they did. I can’t swear Brid won’t find a way to screw up on his own, of course….”

Qorni shook her head. She needed Brid right now – she had to hold the right flank of Empire together if she wanted to come out the other side as Floor Leader. But while Brid was currently serving as Minority Whip, he was also a complete idiot. Everyone seemed to understand this save for him and his constituents.

“Well, Your Imperial Majesty, I do appreciate the visit. May I ask what prompted it?”

Tiernan leaned back, and tented his fingers. “Have you ever heard of an Earth game called poker? Fascinating game. Ambassador Martin taught it to me. It’s all about understanding the strength of your position, and trying to read your opponent.”

Qorni blinked. “I…I’m not sure I follow.”

“Do you really think you can hold this delay long enough to claw your way back to a majority opposed to this bill?”

“I just need eight members to switch,” Qorni said. “Maybe less, not all the yes votes are solid. And my no votes are. If we can gum things up until break, a few of them go home and get an earful from their constituents…not to mention that every day that goes by makes the Armac-Zeramblin marriage of convenience that much more strained. We have enough votes to force consideration of matters of urgency, we can’t hold out forever, but we don’t have to.”

The Emperor nodded. “That’s the hand you’re playing. All right. Well, let’s see what my cards say, shall we?”

He opened the folder that contained his pad, and pulled out four sheets of paper, carefully setting each face-down on the table. Qorni raised an eyebrow; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen actual paper. She got just enough of a glimpse to realize that three of them were official communications of the Emperor, already signed.

“Now as you noted,” Tiernan said, “you mean to delay this indefinitely. Quite simply, I find that intolerable. So twenty hours from now, if you have not consented to allow debate on the Zeramblin Bill, I file this with my Secretary.”

The Emperor flipped over the first sheet of paper, and Qorni saw to her surprise that it was an Act. An Act of the Emperor. Very short, very simple. One sentence.

Humans are hereby declared Class One Sentient Beings under Imperial Law, with all the consequent rights and liberties that follow.

“It’s been since Kraon XVII that an Emperor has authored legislation on anything remotely controversial,” Tiernan said. “And I would prefer not to break that streak. But I will. And once it is done, you will no longer be fighting to defeat the Zeramblin Bill. You will be fighting to strip rights from Imperial citizens.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Forna said, looking at the bill in disbelief. “You’d be…you’d be reviled. I could get this overturned. You know it.”

“It’s possible,” said Tiernan. “Which is why it will be followed by these.”

He flipped over the second and third papers. One was an order by the Emperor dissolving the House and forcing new elections. The other was his declaration of abdication.

“Now, the next legislature could reject my order, and maybe they will. But do you know who would be able to vote in those elections, as full Imperial citizens, knowing their liberty was on the line?” Tiernan smiled. “Rep. Qorni, you won your last race by just under three million votes. There are four million adult humans in your district. How many of their votes could you win? I know this will cost me my job. I cannot do this and remain as sovereign. It may cost my family the crown. But you will be departing office with me.”

It was only the fact that this man was the Emperor that prevented Qorni from swearing. She shook her head. “You know I won’t allow the legislature to dissolve. We’ll fight this, tooth and claw. It will create a Constitutional crisis. It could destroy the monarchy. Humans might become citizens…but you…Emperor, I will not allow this to become precedent. I can’t. And the people will back me up.”

Tiernan nodded. “I understand. And you may be right. But then, I haven’t had a chance to explain why I’m willing to do this.”

He flipped his last card

It was three hours later that Qorni met with her fellow conservative leaders, and five hours later that the minority finally allowed the Zeramblin Bill to the floor.

* * *

Debate was occurring in both houses at the same time. Of course, the Senate would finish its business first, and the outcome was not in doubt. The Chair of the Tarsuss Committee had moved to concur with the legislation her committee had authored, and she herself held three hundred eighty-two proxies on this issue, meaning that by herself, she had enough votes to pass the legislation.

But this was a very serious measure, and its import was measured simply by the fact that they were actually in session, in the Old Senate Chamber, the more formal of the two chambers the Senate used. True, the New Chamber had comfortable seats and could hold all 727 members, but the Old Chamber was where the Senate had met back when the Senate actually met.

The last time the Senate had held a full session was during the reconciliation with the Jotunn. The time before that had been over changes to the Dunnermac Equality Act. They didn’t generally meet unless the changes before the Empire were momentous.

She was almost gleeful that they were meeting over this.

“Mister Chair,” Xeum Agace was concluding, “this is a matter of simple fairness. In the first speech I gave after I was elected Floor Leader, I said that it was the many peoples of this Empire, working together, that make us great. Let us add another people to our number, and work with them to build a better future for us all. Thank you.”

There was applause at that. Pryvani had been happy to see that support in the Senate was very strong. Freed from concerns about being voted out, the Senators had for the most part simply voted their consciences, and most had come to the conclusion that humans were people. It wasn’t unanimous – Lady Egdismbi had been withering in her condemnation, but then, her family owned a chain of human ranches in Sector Six, as well as a significant portion of the Joyful Human Company. This wouldn’t bankrupt her, but it would halve her net worth. Pryvani had actually been planning to discretely help to prop her up, but Ceusi Egdismbi’s snide attack on human males – well, Pryvani knew far better than she that human men were capable of doing some impressive things. It was her loss. And not just financially.

“The final Senator who has requested time to speak,” said Lord Esuste, the Senate President, “is the chair of the Tarsuss Committee, Lady Tarsuss.”

Pryvani rose, and adjusted her microphone. She gazed around the hall. Some of these people were friends, some rivals, but she knew them all. Knew their weaknesses and strengths, knew who could be counted on and who could be counted out. She knew so much about them, and they knew nothing about her – nothing about the real her, anyhow.

The part of her that was Syon Fand’s daughter thought she should keep it that way. But that part did not rule her, nor was it the best part of her. The best part of her was the part that was Chiyuri’s daughter. No – no. Her father had been kind and polite, and she loved and missed him. But truly, the best part of her was the part of her that was Thyllia’s sister, and Odin, Khali, and Pelli’s mother, and the friend of – well, too many people to name, from Rixie and Alex to the Brinn-and-everyone-else-family to the Freemans and Basses and Dia Velos and Darren and Lysis…all the people on Avalon she counted as friends….

That was the best part of her. The part of her that was, more than anything else, Zhan’s wife.

That part had guided her true. That part guided her now.

“Mister Chair, fellow Senators, fellow citizens of the Empire – I know that most you tend to think I’m rather foolish,” Pryvani said. “An heiress who lucked into money and a position of power, two things she had done nothing to earn. And I know that many you see my support of human rights as part of my frivolity, as a diversion for me, something that I’ve come to see as a hobby, or a game. Perhaps I am foolish. Nevertheless, I ask that you hear me out, as the issue before us is anything but.

“Humans aren’t the equal of Titans. We have been told this story for generations. They are not as smart as we are, not as strong, they don’t live as long as we do. If not for our protection, they would have died out long ago. They are fit to be pets, or diversions, but certainly not citizens of the Empire. So the story we have been told goes.

“But consider what that story says. Let us start with the obvious – size. Humans do not choose their size. The size of humans is not their fault, any more than the size of a Titan is our fault. It is simply the result of their heritage, the fact that their parents happened to be small, rather than the size of Titans, or Dunnermacs, or Avartle.

“Humans do not live long, though thanks to research by them and by us, they are living longer than ever. But this is not proof that they are lesser creatures. There are Titans who die young. Are they worthless? Titans live shorter lives than Dunnermacs, and yet I know precious few Titans who would argue that we are lesser creatures than the people of Great Ocean. The People live shorter lives than any of us, including the humans – and nobody questions their value, nor should they. For those of us who live longer, what have we done to earn these longer lives? And for those who live shorter lives – why should they be punished for their heritage?

“Humans are not as strong as Titans – well, not physically, perhaps, but proportionately, we know they are stronger. But is strength the defining measure of a person’s worth? Is a great veeball player more important than a senator? Are the Ler worth more than The People? Are adults more important than children? Of course not. True, we can all exercise, gain strength to some extent…but we all know that you can only do so much. Much of it comes down to who one’s parents are…and none of us can control that.

“So the arguments about size, and strength, and long life – they are not arguments at all. They are just bigotry, an assumption that intelligent creatures should be…well, more like us. There was a time such an argument would have held sway in this Empire, but that is hundreds of years in our past. It should remain there, forevermore. We decided, when this legislature passed the Dunnermac Equality Act, to judge a people based on a simple criteria, one that would allow us to determine whether they were sentient. It was not their shape, or strength, or size that we chose to measure. It was the minds of the people, their ability to interact with us as fellow intelligent beings.

“Are humans intelligent? Yes, they are. The tests entered into evidence before the committee prove this beyond a shadow of a doubt. We know they are as smart as any other Class One Sentient Species. On some types of tests they scored higher than any of the four member species of the Empire. Does that mean they’re smarter than us? I don’t know, but if so…do we blame ourselves for our failings, or acknowledge that none of us can control their heritage?”

Pryvani looked down, just for a moment, before looking back up. “I did not need a test to tell me that humans were intelligent. I have known that since I was but a young woman – who truly was foolish, though I did not think myself to be at the time. But I have learned, thanks to the many humans I am able to count as my friends. Not my pets, not curiosities – my friends. Engage with a human as you would any other person, and you learn quickly that they are as capable as they are free to be. Engage with many humans, over decades – I have been humbled by the opportunity.

“But it is not just the intelligence of humans I have witnessed. I am privileged to have seen their spirit close-up, to have seen their desire and will put in motion. There are humans that I count as friends who have overcome things nobody in this room would have been able to. Could any of you have had the courage to tell a creature fourteen thousand times your size that they must view you as a person? Could any of you have been held by such a creature, one trying to kill you, to literally squeeze the life out of you with a simple close of your hand, and gasping for breath, defiantly declare that were a person, no matter what they say? Could any of you have fought a creature like that, one bearing down on your city, your friends, your people, a creature who had literally swallowed you – and still have the courage to fight from inside her?”

Pryvani smiled. “I do not think I could have. I think it would take quite a remarkable and indomitable spirit to do so, a willingness to never surrender, despite impossible odds. A person willing to do that would be remarkable indeed, and far better than I.

“Zhan Ilios did that. He was a soldier in the Avalonian Guard, twenty years ago, when Atlantis was attacked by a Titan. The woman who attacked him did indeed swallow him. You or I probably would have panicked, and died. He remained cool and calm. He used an incendiary grenade, one she had failed to note he had on his person, and he detonated it inside her, knowing that it could cost his life. He killed her, and saved Atlantis, and thank the Emperor, he managed to survive. Atlantis and Avalon are far better for that. The universe and the Empire are far better. But nobody is better for that than I am.”

She smiled, and blinked a couple times. “Zhan Ilios no longer goes by that last name, not anymore. He took mine when we married. Zhan Tarsuss is my husband, and the father of my three children, and if there is a better person in this Empire, I have not met them. He is brave, yes, and smart, yes, and extremely handsome, most definitely,” Pryvani said with a grin. “But more than any of that – he is the person I love. The person I will always love, for as long as I draw breath.

“Perhaps I should have mentioned this earlier, but for those of you wondering if this affected my actions, know that my husband’s existence did not change my position on emancipation. It solidified it, clarified it, but it did not change it. I knew before I met him that humans were our equals. And those of you who have spoken, who have been honest with yourselves – you have seen what I saw. Their size is unimportant. Their minds are as sharp as ours, and their souls as deep. And nothing else matters but that. If their minds and their souls are like ours, then we must recognize in them the same worth that we have in the Ler, the Avartle, the Dunnermac, and the Titans. Our physical form is not what defines any of us. It is what we are inside that matters.”

Pryvani smiled. “Mister Chair, I am perhaps foolish and frivolous, but nobody is suggesting my citizenship be revoked. Nobody is suggesting my company be taken from me – well, not for many years. Nobody is suggesting I even be removed from the Senate. Tell me, if I am deserving of a seat in this body, foolish, frivolous me, how can anyone say that humans are undeserving of basic citizenship?

“I was born lucky. My husband fought a monster from the inside, and saved thousands of lives in the battle. How can anyone say that I am more deserving than he is? How can any of us say we are, without seeking refuge in pure bigotry and intolerance? Mister Chair, members of the Imperial Senate, the truth is obvious to all who are willing to see. I urge you to recognize, once and for all, that humans are deserving of the right to participate fully in this great Empire. Not for my husband’s sake, or my children’s, not even for the humans’ sake – but for the sake of this Empire, which will only profit by the future we can build together. Thank you.”

 

* * *

The Senate vote had not been close – 598 to 118, with eleven abstaining.

The House debate drug on for another eighteen hours. These members were elected, and all of them wanted to speak on what would be a defining vote of their careers.

Oh, Qorni had tried to move to recommit, given Pryvani’s statement, but the motion had gone nowhere, and indeed, snap polls showed most Imperial citizens didn’t care about the revelation; those that did were actually more likely to support the measure than they were before. Pryvani had very wisely rolled out a picture of Zhan in uniform, which had resulted in a general reaction of “Yeah, okay, she’s right about the handsome thing” from the average Titan on the street. They were scheduled to make the rounds on some chat shows after the bill passed – and that was something that was looking increasingly likely to analysts. After all, if Pryvani Tarsuss was willing to out her husband, well…she obviously knew it was inevitable, right?

Finally, after three hundred hours and twenty-five Imperial years of debate, the end was in sight. Just three speakers remained to address the House, and then, at long last, it would be time.

Loona Armac looked around the hall. She was relaxed and calm. It was almost surreal, she thought. She had imagined this moment so very many times. “Madam Chair,” she said. “Members of the Imperial House of Representatives. Citizens of this Great Empire. We have, at long last, come to the end of this debate. A debate that has lasted thousands of years, a debate that has waited as billions of lives began and ended. A debate over whether to admit to ourselves what we know to be the simple truth – that humans are people, with the same rights as everyone sitting in this chamber today.

“We have spoken for days about this simple fact; the arguments are well-known on both sides. I will not convince any of you of the truth with the force of my rhetoric, and I am not going to try. If you honestly do not think humans can be the equal of the four species of this Empire, mere words will not change that.

“But there is one argument that I wish to address, one which has been made repeatedly by the opposition. It is not about whether granting humans their basic rights is just, or whether it is proper, not whether humans can truly be our equals. It is simply about whether it will be difficult for us to do so.

“’This will hurt some businesses!’ they say. ‘It will be difficult to educate all these humans! It will be expensive! It might even change the character of the Empire! This will be terribly disruptive to all of us!’

Loona smiled. “And of course…they are right. Passing this legislation will be disruptive. That is a simple fact. It will cost money, and energy. Some businesses will be put under by this legislation. Others will find themselves transformed overnight. Imperial citizens will lose their pets, with no compensation; those pets will face a difficult road to learn what it is to be a citizen of the Empire. This will be disruptive; that is clear to all of us, on both sides. It will definitely change the character of the Empire. And we do not like disruption. We do not like change. The Empire is safe and secure. Why should we mess with a good thing?”

Loona gazed across the chamber at Forna Qorni. “Let me tell you a story. It’s a story about the parents of my good friend, Ambassador Eyrn Bass. Not her birth parents – though their story is interesting indeed – but of her adoptive, human parents, Zebulon and Marcy Fitzgerald.

“Ambassador Bass’s parents lived in a country on Earth called the United States. It was a relatively prosperous nation, founded on high-minded ideals of liberty and equality…but there was a dark side to this nation. For you see, in one half of this country, those provinces of the country that were in its southern half, it was legal to buy and sell humans for slave labor. Humans who were born with a darker pigment in their skin – not unlike that of the Emperor, in fact – could be bought and sold like so much property. And they were treated like property, forced to work without hope of anything else. Families were broken apart, children sold and traded. Some women were raped; some men were tortured – and the converse was true, to be sure. It was a grim time, one of the great shames of that nation’s history.

“They justified this, as people often justify unjustifiable things, by rationalizing that it was just the way things were. The people with this darker pigment came from a different place than those who were doing the enslaving, they were brought on ships to be sold. Those who bought and sold them told themselves that their slaves were slaves because they were not as smart as the slaveholders, the people in the land they had been taken from were primitive, and just not capable of living their own lives. It couldn’t be wrong – too many people profited from it, too many benefited from it. No, it couldn’t be wrong, why, it was just the way it was. Some appealed to science, or religion, to make their argument, but all came back to the simple argument that some humans were people – and others were not.”

Loona paused for a moment, gazing around the room. “That is not to say that this was believed by everyone in that country. Many opposed it, including both of Ambassador Bass’s parents. The mother of Ambassador Bass was, as a young woman, known as Marcy Devereaux. She was the daughter of a wealthy attorney in a part of the United States called Alabama. Her father and mother found the practice of slavery abominable. They did not believe that there were humans who were less than people; they believed people should be free to choose their own destinies. They were but a family, but they did what they could to undermine the system of slavery. They made their home a safehouse for slaves fleeing servitude, gave them money and aid, helped them get to other safehouses on the way to the northern part of the nation, where slavery was outlawed.

“This was not without its risk. The Devereaux family’s assistance was discovered by those who supported slavery. And they did not just lose their business in the aftermath. Eyrn’s adoptive grandfather was killed when he put himself between the mob and his wife and daughter. They fled for the north, giving up every credit to their name in the process.”

Loona looked down for but a moment. “Not long after this, this country elected a leader – their version of a Floor Leader – who believed slavery should be outlawed throughout the nation. The part of the country that believed in slavery rebelled – said they would form their own country, so that they could keep their slaves. And this is where the father of Ambassador Bass came in. Because the northerners, those who opposed slavery, did not simply let the slave-holding provinces go, though it would have been easy to do so. They fought. They risked their very lives to preserve their nation, and yes, to free those held as slaves. The soldiers Zeb Fitzgerald fought with paid a great price. The unit he was in lost ninety percent of their members – eighty percent in one horrible battle. Millions of humans died, on both sides of the battle – and in the end, so did the practice of slavery.”

Loona looked around the House. “This was disruptive,” she said. “This was difficult. Many people’s lives changed forever because of this fight. And the character of that nation was altered forevermore. But it was a fight the humans took on, willingly. They knew that it would cause change, knew that the consequences for acting might be, not the loss of a company, or a pet, but the loss of their very lives, perhaps their nation itself – and they acted anyhow.

“And so, Madam Chair, members of this great House, and my fellow citizens of the Empire, I put it to you plainly: Are we willing to do what those humans did? Are we willing to stand against injustice, no matter the personal cost to ourselves? Because if we are not, then the question is not whether they should be counted as equal to us. It is whether we should be counted as equal to them.

“Madam Chair, I yield my time.”

“The member from Telemaki Three Rivers is recognized.”

Forna Qorni stood, and looked around the chamber. “Madam Chair, the Deputy Floor Leader would have us believe that humans are our equals – no, check that, our superiors. She would have us think that these creatures who we have cared for over dozens of generations are ready to take over running the universe, and that we should just step aside and let them through.”

Qorni shook her head. “Humans as a class are of low intellect and skill, and they are not capable of performing any manual labor of note, for which they would be best suited. That is not their fault! They are as they are, and I do not blame them for it, nor do I fault those among them who, whipped up by the voices of well-meaning Titans, think that ‘freedom’ is something that will benefit them. They are simple-minded, but they are headstrong. Fortunately, until this point, they have had us to guide them. But what will become of them when we are no longer allowed to make sure they are safe?

“Supporters of this bill have said that those of us who oppose it are evil, motivated by spite, blind to the basic dignity of humans. I disagree. Those of us who oppose this know that humans are in need of protection, for their own good, and that we are willing to do what we have done for centuries – to be the protectors of the weak. We do this not out of malice, but charity – it does not materially benefit us to care for humans, after all. We do so because we care about them. That they are not suited for equality is not important; they, like the H’Klatu, still have worth, and we have defended it from those who would do them harm.

“That defense has cost billions of credits,” she said, “and many, many lives. And we are not complaining! This is our purpose. This is what we were put in this universe to do. Humans are sweet, and funny, and some are even intelligent in a rude way, but they are not capable of defending themselves. If the Empire went home tomorrow, could Earth protect itself? Could Avalon? Not at all. They would come running to us, like scared children. And when they do…we will still fight on their behalf. But I fear that the time it will take us to reach them will be too great.

“What of the human who tomorrow will wander into Tuaut, sure of her equality? She doesn’t know the city. Indeed, it will be enormous and incomprehensible to her. Who will guide her? It won’t be her owner. Will she find her own way? Will she foolishly run in front of a Titan, and be harmed by a simple footfall? Will a mugger target her, because she cannot possibly fight back? What will happen to her if there are not Titans around to protect her?

“That is the problem with this bill. It will thrust citizenship on those who are incapable of exercising it. It will rip humans from their protectors and cast them out to face the vagaries of the universe, for good or ill. They will no longer have our protection, and once that is lost, what then? How many humans will be irreparably harmed by giving them freedom they cannot understand?”

Qorni shook her head. “I would love to agree with the majority, I would love to say that humans are our equals. They are not. And no amount of pretending will change that. If this bill passes, mark my words, humans will suffer. The Empire will suffer. I urge you to vote for humans, and against this bill. I yield my time.”

The chair nodded to the Floor Leader. His speech was last, as was customary.

Rodrec Zeramblin rose, and faced the vast chamber. He knew this would be the last time he would take the floor at the end of debate. He could have spent some time mentioning that, could have waxed nostalgic.

But this was too important. He smiled as he took a breath; he was closing his career with a bill that would free a species. It was better, he thought, than he deserved.

“’All sentient creatures are born equal,’” Zeramblin said, “’And born into the same rights. The right to live, to love, and to pursue life as they would.’ So began my predecessor, Her Excellency and Grace Tez Magilna, as she spoke before passage of the Dunnermac Equality Act. They are words all of us know; all of us were taught her speech in school.

“We were taught this for a reason, a very simple and obvious reason: those words are true. More than that, they are Truth. They are the fundamental Truth upon which this Empire is now constructed. Yes, there was a time when we built our Empire through conquest and coercion. That time is over. Today, we four species sit in this chamber as equals, debating matters that affect all of us. The Titans are no more or less important to the Dunnermac, or Avartle, or Ler. We are all of us sentient creatures, and we are all born equal, and into the same rights. We respect those rights, respect each other. We do so not because it is politically expedient, or because the polls tell us to; we do so because it is the right thing to do.”

Zeramblin smiled. “My distinguished colleague says humans need protection. Well, of course they do! They need the protection of this government, just like the Avartle. And the Ler. And the Dunnermac. And the Titans. All of us live under the protection of the laws of this Empire, and that protection allows us to grow and live as we would. The law prevents me from stabbing my opponents – or at the very least, lets me know that if I should, I will be convicted, and sent to a penal colony. It prevents my opponents from stabbing me, though I’m sure many of them would dearly like to. It prevents all of us from attacking our fellow sentient creatures. And it will prevent us from injuring humans, no matter how small they may be – just as it prevents us from killing infants, or the infirm, or the elderly.

“The law confers its protection equally and without favor. It does so because it values no life more or less than another. But right now, the law does not value human lives as equal to Avartle lives, or Titan lives, or Ler lives. Kill me, and you will go to Rura Penthe for twenty years, minimum. Kill a human…well, you might be able to avoid jail time altogether, and at most, you’ll serve a few years. The law makes this distinction because it assumes that humans are not our equals, and are not deserving of the same protection under the law as you or I.

“Opponents of the bill say that by keeping them pets, we protect them. That is not protecting them!” Zeramblin thundered. “That is not keeping them safe! That is lying. It is pretending that the threat of angering an owner is greater than the threat of violating the law. It is keeping them subjugated ‘for their own good,’ while they enjoy fewer protections than their owners.

“If they showed no capacity for higher reason or development, perhaps this would make sense, but we know that is not the case. Humans have built ships on their own, developed warp drive on their own, flown across the stars on their own. If the humans were a novel species, one we had no experience with, we would not have to think twice. They would obviously be Class One Sentient Creatures. We might look on them like the Tusola – sure, they’re a bit behind us as technology goes, but that doesn’t mean they’re lesser creatures. And eventually, they’ll catch up. We just have to give them time, and perhaps some friendly, neighborly assistance.”

Zeramblin smiled. “Humans will catch up, no matter what we decide today. Three years ago they were just reaching the sixth planet of their home system. Today, they routinely travel to other star systems, as far as Sol Tarsuss, on their own. Three years from now, how far will they have traveled?

“Perhaps our ancestors could be excused for not recognizing human intelligence, for miscategorizing them as a Class Two species. Perhaps they can be excused, but we cannot. We know what they can accomplish. We know what they are capable of. We know that in terms of intelligence, they are our equals – the equals of the four species that make up this Empire. Are they small? Yes, they are small. So what? Their intelligence matches ours. Their intelligence matches ours. That should be our only concern. Nothing else matters. Members of this body have met humans who were using holograms to appear Titan-sized; they could not tell the difference between our two species. Our size is all that separates us – and that is a ridiculous thing to use to determine a person’s worth, though given my personal size, maybe not – after all, I’d be worth more than most people in this room,” Zeramblin said, getting a laugh from the crowd.

“No, I don’t think you’d agree that I’m worth more because I’m bigger than you are. So why are some of us arguing that this makes me better than humans? Leave size out of it. Leave our history out of it. Leave everything you’ve ever thought about humans, and come back to the simple Truth that Tez Magilna told us.

“Humans are fully sentient, and if a species is fully sentient, then they are born into the same rights as all of us. The right to live. The right to love. And the right to pursue life as they would. Yes, humans deserve protection, but if we are to protect humans, let us protect them in the same way we protect all other citizens of this great Empire – by treating them as capable, sentient, equal beings. For that is what they are, and that is the least that they deserve. Do what is right, do what is just, do what truth compels you to do – vote to support this bill. Madam Chair, I call the question, and yield the balance of my time.”

“The question is called,” the chair said. “The clerk will report the bill.”

“House File Zero-One-Ashay, a Bill for an Act Amending the Dunnermac Equality Act; Granting Citizenship to Qualified Humans; Creating a Procedure for granting Citizenship to Non-Qualified Humans; Granting Nationality to Non-Citizen Humans resident in the Empire; Declaring All Humans to be Class One Sentient Beings; Amending the Terran Conservation Act; Amending the First Contact Act of 2124; Establishing the Autonomous Imperial Province of Avalon; Establishing the Legislative Constituency of Avalon. Authored by Rep. Zeramblin of Wedney; Co-Authored by Rep. Armac of Tannhauser West and The Lady Sen. Tarsuss.”

The chair struck the bell once. “The roll shall be opened.”

Loona watched the tally carefully, waiting for the precise moment to cast her vote. She knew those people watching at home or in the gallery would be seeing it on a thirty-second delay; she herself had the live count. She waited patiently, watching the vote climb.

She wasn’t worried. She knew she had the votes. But she wanted the vote to be hers.

 

When the ayes reached 499, she nodded to Zeramblin; the Floor Leader cast his vote, putting it even. Loona cast hers, putting it over the top.

A roar went up from her side of the aisle, and Loona grinned as abruptly, forty-three no votes suddenly flipped to yes. Predictable, really.

A few more votes trickled in before the chair rang her bell.

“By a vote of 551 aye, 449 nay, the bill does pass, title agreed to, and by previous Senate concurrence….”

The rest of the chair’s statement was drowned out by cheers from the gallery.

When order was finally restored, Rodrec Zeramblin rose.

“Madam Chair,” he said, “I ask unanimous consent that you temporarily pass the chair to the honorable Representative from Tannhauser West, Rep. Armac.”

Broni Galun nodded to Zeramblin. This was no insult or surprise; indeed, she had suggested this to the Floor Leader earlier in the day.

“Without objection, so ordered. I hereby transfer the chair to the Honorable Representative from Tannhauser West.”

No, the only surprise was from the Deputy Floor Leader, who turned to look at Zeramblin.

She trusted Zeramblin through the vote they just took, and she liked him, and she knew he was capable of backstabbing her if he had to – though he would do it cordially and with no malice. (And she would take it in that spirit – she understood the Floor Leader very well.) And frankly, backstabbing her would be silly; she was probably his best ally right now.

Could he be trying to figure out one last desperate attempt to hang on to power? No, that made no sense. If he’d thought of something he’d have told her. But why would he want her in the chair? The chair was mostly a ceremonial position – maintain order, keep the legislature on task, do some procedural things, like….

She smiled as the penny dropped, nodded, and headed for the rostrum.

She took the hammer, and looked down at the script the legislative aides always had prepared. Ringing the bell once, she said, simply, “The Representative from Wedney, Rep. Zeramblin, is recognized.”

“Madam Chair,” Zeramblin said, “the legislation just passed into law established a new constituency, and granted the power to appoint a member to serve out the term to the Council of Avalon, the government of the new Province of Avalon. Madam Chair, I have a communication from the Government of the Province of Avalon in my possession, which I am sending to the House Clerk now.”

Loona nodded. “The Clerk will report the communication.”

The clerk looked down, and he smiled. “A communication from the Provisional Government of the Autonomous Imperial Province of Avalon. ‘In accordance with the Zeramblin Act of 2127 and the Legislative Restructuring Act of 1848, the government of the Province of Avalon hereby appoints Ammer Toremalia Smit of Atlantis, District of Avalon, Avalon Province, to serve….’”

Once more, the clerk was drowned out, but this time, the roar came not from the gallery, but the floor and the staff area – the latter of which was completely against the rules of the House.

As chair, Loona knew she should really say something.

Instead, she waited for the applause to die down, and looked to the epicenter of the cheering, where her soon-to-be-former chief of staff was standing on the right palm of the former policy director for the Tarsuss Committee – who was doing her best to keep her hand steady as she wiped tears away with her left.

Loona couldn’t see Ammer’s face, but she knew what it looked like all the same. And she knew exactly why Zeramblin had placed her in the chair.

“The chair recognizes the Representative from Wedney.”

“The member-designate from Avalon is in the chamber. I would ask unanimous consent that he come forward that he may be given the oath of office; as it is a long walk for him, I also ask unanimous consent that the policy director for the Tarsuss Committee may assist him.”

“Without objection, so ordered,” Loona said. She glared over at the minority; Qorni and more than a few other members had left the floor. Bigotry, that. Pure, spiteful bigotry. But that would be dealt with; now was not the time. The woman carrying her friend and lover carefully but quickly to the rostrum was beaming, and Loona mirrored it.

Inna carefully set Ammer on the Clerk’s Desk, and Loona finally could see that he was in shock – almost dazed at what was happening. She knew he’d recommended a half-dozen different humans for the honor. But she also knew that she, Pryvani, Darren, Yamanu Neutha, and everyone else the council had asked had recommended the same person – a man who knew how the House worked, knew how to cut a deal, knew how to make things happen.

“Mr. Smit, please cross your arms,” Loona said, “And repeat after me. ‘I, Ammer Smit….”

“I…Ammer Smit….”

“…do affirm that I will support and defend the Emperor, and the Empire of Archavia and all its possessions;”

Ammer nodded. “…do affirm that I will support and defend the Emperor, and the Empire of Archavia and all its possessions….”

“That I will observe and promote obedience to Imperial law….”

“That I will observe and promote obedience to Imperial law….”

“That I will promote the welfare, safety, liberty, and dignity….” Loona paused, and sniffed back just the beginning of joyful tears, “…of all Imperial citizens….”

“That I will promote the welfare, safety, liberty, and dignity of all Imperial citizens….”

“And that I will serve the peoples of the Empire to the best of my capability for so long as I serve in office.”

“And that I will serve the peoples of the Empire,” Ammer said, and just now, he began to smile, “to the best of my capability, for so long as I serve in office.”

“Congratulations, Representative Smit,” Loona said. “Ms. Lektas, will you please assist the Representative from Avalon to his seat; it is now my honor to return the chair to the honorable Chair of the House, Rep. Galun.”

Loona shook Broni’s hand; the chair pulled her into a hug, then Loona bounded down the steps to intercept Inna and Ammer. She hugged Inna tight, and extended an index finger to Ammer. At this point, order had evaporated; the conservatives were already filing off the floor, and supporters of the law were in full celebration mode.

“Well, Rep. Smit,” Loona said with a grin, “I’m glad you gave me your resignation. I’m putting it into effect.”

“Told you it would save time. Incidentally,” he said, looking up at the woman wreathed in red curls, “I’d like to recommend my fiancée to be my successor. I’d hire her as my chief of staff, but, you know, nepotism.”

Loona did a double-take. “Fiancée?”

“I asked the second the bell rang,” Inna said. “Always swore I would.”

They walked to the back of the majority, where a small desk had been prepared in the final rank, sitting atop a normal-sized one. “Inna, the job’s yours if you want it. And Rep. Smit, I can move your desk to the north side if you wish….”

Ammer laughed. “Caucusing with the non-Titans. Obviously.”

“Obviously. I look forward to working with you, Representative,” Loona said.

“Boss…I mean, Rep. Armac…I do too.”

Loona headed back to the front of the chamber; Most of the majority was crowding around Ammer in the back. Zeramblin grinned at her, and said simply, “I suppose I should give a speech or something…but this is, quite honestly, the way I’d like to leave it. Madam Chair, I move that the house do now adjourn until 29:45 on the first day of next week.”

“All in favor say yay, opposed nay, the yays prevail, the House stands adjourned….” the chair said. Zeramblin walked straight for his deputy, and shook her wrist.

“It was an honor, Armac. An honor,” he said.

“The honor’s mine. Are you sure you don’t want to continue to work with us?”

Zeramblin grinned. “I’d be glad to, but I can’t hold on to everyone. Next session it falls apart. Just trying to decide whether to resign from the house after the next session or hang around a bit to needle Qorni. You sure about your plans?”

Loona shook her head. “Absolutely not,” she replied. “But I’ve talked to all the subcaucus heads, and I’ve done everything I can with your friends. We know the count. We all agree, it’s the only way.”

“So do I, for what it’s worth. Well,” Zeramblin said, “for what it’s worth, I’d recommend you get on with it, sooner than later. And Loona – never thought I’d be on the same side as you when I retired, but I’ll tell you this, it’s a lot safer than being on the other side.”

“Thanks, Mr. Floor Leader. And Rodrec – I feel exactly the same way.”

Loona embraced the Floor Leader in a bear hug, and then headed off the floor. He was right, and she knew it.

She had a press conference in forty minutes.

Best to rip off the bandage.