Forna Qorni sat in her office, staring out at Tuaut; a glass of kapskrasi slowly melting the ice that supported it.

She had made a terrible mistake.

She had wanted to cut Armac off at the knees. Had wanted to take her ovaries and keep her neutered until the next election.

It would have made the campaign easier. If everything Armac hoped for happened, and the colony was a success, and humans appeared to be successfully integrating into the Empire, Qorni could claim ownership of it. The colony was her idea, after all; she’d pursued funding for it. And of course, if humans failed to integrate, she could go back to I-told-you-so.

Hab Lemescu had promised that they’d keep a lid on things. She’d told him that violence against peaceful protesters would backfire spectacularly, and Hab had agreed. He’d said Cesil agreed. Hells, maybe he did – but Cesil and his lackey…Rimosi, right? They’d spent the last few months fighting integration, saying not just that humans weren’t going to be able to integrate, but that they weren’t people, they were barely sentient, they were undeserving of even basic protections.

You say that enough, people start to believe it. And when people believe that their opponents aren’t people….

It was interesting. Two hours since the session, and she’d received two calls. One curt call from Pane Segdi, who had stated, quietly, that she needed to know if she should direct the Dodecahedron to plan for an invocation of Article XXII – and that she would need to know very soon. Pane hadn’t had to say what “soon” meant. Qorni knew. The members of Empire were considering bolting, backing Armac. Or maybe bringing the government down. Or maybe just plotting a coup among the conservatives. There were a lot of different plays. Segdi had worked with Qorni, and they were on good terms. Pane had wanted to warn her – that this had to be fixed, or else.

The other call had been from Hab Lemescu. She had refused to take it.

Oh, there had been dozens of press inquiries, but those didn’t count. What counted were the calls from actual people with actual power, and those were the only calls that Qorni had received.

She knew that the silence on her line was a signal that she was in grave danger of losing her office, of losing her career. Usually, in a crisis, even with people leaving town, the Floor Leader’s office would be besieged by calls and messages. Besieged by members coming in directly to conspicuously lend support, in hopes it would be remembered by the Floor Leader down the road.

They didn’t think there was a “down the road.” Not for her. No doubt, they were already discussing how to do it. How exactly to make the move. Who would end up in leadership. How they’d distance themselves from the embarrassing former leader.

How they’d distance themselves from her.

She didn’t know what to do next. She could try to ride this out – doubtful, but possible – with the conservatives and Titan Party backing her.

No. No, she couldn’t – not after this. The Titan Party was radioactive now. If she allied with them, they’d burn her entire coalition off.

And frankly…even if she could salvage it, even if she could put together 501 votes with the Titan Party’s help…frak, she’d rather be out of office. She now understood exactly why Zeramblin had always refused to deal with them; she wished she’d understood before.

But her only other option was to crawl back to Armac, and beg her for a second chance. If Armac would listen. If Armac didn’t already have a majority behind her.

Qorni didn’t know what to do. And so she did the only thing she could think of. She dialed a contact, one that had been on her pad for years.

A familiar, brash Wedney accent greeted her.

“Wondering when you’d call me.”

“Rodrec…I was wondering if you’d accept the call.”

Zeramblin chuckled ruefully. “Very few of us alive that have sat in that office. You, me, Xeum, Alaili, and Trik. All of us will answer if you call, and when the day comes you’re out of office, you’ll answer if your successor calls, even if it’s Loona Armac.”

Forna laughed, and before she knew it, she was sobbing, almost uncontrollably. This was not something she did. She was a politician, with a strong command of her emotions, but she suddenly felt it, all at once, collapsing down upon her, and she knew, and she knew, that it was her own gorram fault.

When she finally stopped, she said, “I’m sorry…that…I hope you won’t….”

“And when you talk to any of us,” Zeramblin said, gently, “know that all of us know what it’s like to have to sit in that office. The good and the bad. And that we’ll all talk frankly. Gorram, there were a few times when I picked Dindraves’ brain on things – not policy, but defense, stuff that affected the whole Empire. Told her things that she coulda used against me – and she told me things I coulda used against her. We both knew better than to do that. The Empire needs its Floor Leader to succeed, Forna. You’re Floor Leader for everyone, not just the majority. And you’re starting to realize that, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Qorni said. “I am.”

“Good. Because despite our differences, I like you. I know why you’re calling – Pane called me earlier.”

“Of course she did,” Qorni said.

“You have two options here, but one of them leads to you getting bounced out of office in two weeks, assuming the members don’t race back here to do you in earlier. Probably 60/40 you’re out in two weeks anyhow, but that’s better than nothing.”

“Thanks for the confidence booster.”

“That what you wanted? I can blow smoke up your pooter if you want me to.”

“No,” Qorni chuckled. “No, I want it straight.”

“Look,” Zeramblin said, “way back when, when you first got into politics – why did you do it? To become powerful? Yeah, sure, that’s part of it for all of us. But no, first job you took. You were a prosecutor. You take that for fun?”

“No,” Qorni said. “We needed a tough, fair prosecutor, one who would do justice. Ellol was too tough on the nobodies, and too lax on the real bad guys. We needed….”

Zeramblin smiled. “’Telemaki needs a prosecutor who puts justice first.’ Great campaign slogan, but lots of people have great slogans. Yours sold. Know why?”

“I meant it.”

“Gorram right you did. You know what justice requires here. It’s not whatever frakking game you’ve been trying to play. A man’s been assassinated, and worse has been done. You might be out of office in two weeks, but gorram, Forna, if you are, how do you want your last weeks to go?”

Qorni nodded. He was right. Might as well go down fighting.

“All right,” she said. “Thanks, Mr. Floor Leader. And if nothing else…save me a seat in the Senate. I may need it.”

“Who knows? You actually do the right thing here, you might not need it for some time. Good luck, Madam Floor Leader.”

Qorni signed off, and gathered her thoughts. She had another call to make. No, not to Hab – she was done talking to underlings.

She hit a button on her desk. Her secretary answered. “Yes, Madam Floor Leader?”

“Get me Jota Cesil,” she said.

“It’s night in Walak, Madam Floor Leader.”

“Good,” Forna said. “I hope I wake the felgercarber up.”

A few moments later, Cesil’s laconic drawl answered her.

“Good evening, Madam Floor Leader.”

“Not at all. It’s a frakking disastrous evening,” Qorni shot back. “Your province is out of control, Poron. What happened today is unforgivable.”

“It was unfortunate,” Cesil allowed. “A terrible mistake. Yes, that HOS was cleared to put down pets, but they did not have the proper paperwork.”

“Have you arrested them?” Qorni asked, fearing she knew the answer.

“Arrested? No, why would we? I mean, we’ve served them with notices of violations. They will be fined. And the employee who made the mistake will be fired.”

“FINED!?! FIRED?!?!” Qorni screamed. “You frakking – under Imperial law, they committed at least thirty counts of murder. I don’t frakking care if you or I think humans are people, the law says they are, and you and I are both bound by the law. Your peacekeepers need to arrest these frakkers. Immediately.”

“It would be inappropriate for me to interfere in the peacekeepers’ decision-making, Madam Floor Leader.”

“Frak you,” Qorni said. “I’m not frakking around. You’re deliberately ignoring a case of mass murder. You’re continuing to disobey court orders. You, personally, have called for your people to ignore the Imperial government. If you are unwilling to uphold your oath, then I will invoke Article XXII. And believe me, there will be overwhelming support for the suspension of your government.”

“That would be…inadvisable, Madam Floor Leader,” Cesil said. “I will not allow further Imperial intervention in the Federation’s internal matters.”

“Under Article XXI, Article XIV, hell, under Article I…you don’t have a frakking choice, Cesil. You’re a part of the Empire.”

“For the moment,” Cesil said. “As I have told you, I will not allow further Imperial intervention in my territory. If you wish to send more officers and ships, be aware that our border is now closed to all inbound traffic from the Empire, and that we will fire on any ships that approach.”

Qorni stared at her pad. It took her a moment to say, “You’re committing treason, Cesil. I invoke Article XXII, and I will be directing the Imperators Corps to take you into custody.”

“And I, Madam Floor Leader, regret to inform you that the Federation is hereby withdrawing from the Empire. A formal communication will be forthcoming. Goodbye.”

The line went dead.

Qorni stared at the desk for a good long minute, before she forced herself to call the person she had to. She would rather have guzzled acid.

“Forna, not in the frakking mood,” was all Loona said.

“Jota Cesil just told me he intends to secede,” Qorni replied.

Loona shook her head, and closed her eyes. “The frak you say.”

“I am invoking Article XXII, and asking all cabinet members who are able to come to my office for an emergency meeting. Loona…I understand why you’re upset. And I will admit, to you, that I should have done more, sooner. I deeply regret that I did not. Right now, however, we need to determine what to do next. There will be time for you to remove me, if that’s what you want – but for now, the security of the Empire is at stake.”

Loona nodded. “Madam Floor Leader, I will be there as soon as I can. It goes without saying that if this is any kind of feint….”

“If I lied about this, I’d be committing treason myself,” Qorni said.

“Your words,” Loona said. “All right. I’ll be there directly.”

Loona ended the call, and rubbed her eyes. An independent Federation would be a disaster. For the Empire, for humans…even for the Federation. Qorni was right – there would come a time to remove her, and when the time came, Loona had the votes secured. But it would be two weeks before the session resumed, and hells, maybe Qorni would actually wake up.

But the time would come for that. For now, Loona had a responsibility to the Empire to help Qorni defend it, they all did.

“Yes, Madam Floor Leader, I’m on my way,” the woman sitting at Loona’s dining room table said. Looking over at Loona, she added, “Dear Emperor’s underpants, things just keep getting better.”

“There’s an Earth curse,” Loona said. “Nobody’s quite sure where it originated. The Chinese say America, Americans say China…anyhow, the curse is, ‘May you live in interesting times.’”

Pane blinked, then laughed. “Yeah…they’ve got a point. All right, we’d best head over. Want to stagger it?”

“She has to know we’re talking,” Loona said. “We’ll go together.”

Pane nodded, and rose. Any trace of mirth disappeared with the motion. “Goes without saying that we’ll have to be careful about this; it’s a potential civil war now.”

“Yeah, it is,” Loona said. “But that’s all the more reason.”

Pane Segdi sighed. “I like Forna, Loona. I know she drives you nuts, but she’s not a bad person. Let’s hope that this wakes her up. I’m not saying I won’t back you if it comes down to it. We’re in agreement, she frakked this up, and people died because of it. She has to change course, and if she doesn’t, I’ll make the motion myself. But….”

“But the Empire comes first. It always comes first,” Loona said. “I agree. Just….”

“Don’t worry. The Empire comes first, and if this doesn’t wake her up, then our duty is clear, isn’t it?”

****

The skinny young woman padded through the room, still dazed and confused. She was trying to understand, but it was like trying to drink from a firehose – there was too much coming in, too fast.

She should be dead. She knew that. Her brother Bhonoro was, and so were most of her friends.

She wasn’t sure whether she was glad to have escaped or not.

The Titans had brought her with them. Well, the humans – the humans had said she should be brought with. And the Titans had listened. That was strange. Oh, they had heard rumors, and her brother – he had spoken about the human who died in her place. Yah-mah. He was a not just human, Bhonoro had said, but a person. He was even married to a Titan. Married to a Titan! That had seemed so silly to her, but….

…but here she was, and he’d met the woman that her saviour had married, and she was far sadder than anyone she’d ever met. The woman was trying to be brave, but Bheloro had always known how to read people. In her almost-three years alive, she had done well at that. Bhonoro….

It hurt to think of Bhonoro. He was the smarter of the two of them. The woman who had borne them had carried them together. She had known him all her life. He was her closest friend. And now he was gone, and dead…dead meant you never got to see your friends again.

She understood why the Titan was sad. She felt the same way.

“Are you okay?”

Bheloro startled, and turned; an older human, bearded, balding, and a bit pudgy, was standing in the doorway of the habitat’s kitchen; it was where she’d ended up, she realized. He was the friend of Yah-mah. He, too, was sad, though he was trying not to be. They were all trying so hard.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what?” the man said, walking to the refrigerator. “Would you like some glowberry juice?”

“I do not know what that is,” Bheloro said.

“Then I am happy to introduce you to it,” Thurfrit replied, pulling a container out half-full of glowing red liquid. He grabbed two glasses, and poured equal amounts. He gestured to the table, and Bheloro sat. She tried the juice carefully, and found it tasted quite wonderful. Still, she was careful not to drink it in one gulp as she wanted to. She did not know if she would get more. They had been kind to her so far, but she wondered when they would become angry that she was here, and Yah-Mah was not.

“Do you like it?” Thurfrit asked.

“It is…it is good. Um…thank you,” she added. Manners. She’d been taught manners back at the farm. She was supposed to use them around Titans, but it felt right to use them around these humans, too.

“This juice comes from my home, you know. And Yamanu’s too, really,” Thurfrit said. “My tribe tends the bushes these grow on. They harvest the berries, and make all sorts of things with them.”

“Do the berries glow?”

“They do,” Thurfrit said. “A long, long time ago, back before Yamanu and I even met, we used to use these for our lights in our home.”

“What about your Titans? Didn’t they have lights?”

Thurfrit chuckled. “We didn’t have Titans. We were on our own. There were Titans near us, but we hid from them. At least, we did until an old friend of mine helped us to realize that the Titans near our home were not a threat. They were friends. Not all Titans are, but they were. There were four Titans we became fast friends with. Three were those who lived on the land where we lived. My future wife, Tall as Tree; my future sisters-in-law, Hair Like Fire and Eyes Like Ice. The fourth was Yamanu’s wife, Gae. ‘Seeks the Tribe,’ we called her back then. They were as good a people as I’ve ever known, and as good a friends as there can be.”

“I’m sorry,” Bheloro said. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“And why not?” Thurfrit asked.

“Your friend. Yamanu. He should be here. Not me.”

Thurfrit sipped his juice, and leaned back. “Yamanu should be here, that’s true. It was terrible that he was killed. But you did not kill him. A cruel Titan, as different from my friends as night is from day – she did it. And yes, there are cruel Titans, which is what Yamanu fought against, and what I’m fighting against, but…my dear, Yamanu should be here. And so should you. The others who died should be, too.”

“I wish she hadn’t done that to him. He was a good man. I didn’t know him much, but she said…she said he could go back with you, and she’d kill me. But he wouldn’t….”

Bheloro began to cry, and Thurfrit fumbled a bit, before he said, “No, Yamanu wouldn’t. And he was a good man. So all you can do is try to be a good person, too.”

“I am stupid,” she said. “I can’t read, or write, or nothing.”

“Well then,” Thurfrit said, “we shall have to teach you. And I would bet that you will learn. Do you know there is a writer, a human woman, who was not much older than you when she learned to write? And now she is famous throughout the Empire.”

Bheloro sniffled. “I don’t think I’m that smart.”

“Oh, I doubt that. The Great Spirit wouldn’t have let you live if you didn’t have an important future.”

“The…Great Spirit?”

Thurfrit sighed. “A long story, that. You see….”

“Get up!” a Titan-sized voice called from the room outside. “It’s an emergency!”

Thurfrit stopped, and straightened his robe. “Well. It appears something is going on. Best see what it is.”

“You’re worried,” Bheloro said.

“You’re not stupid, dear,” Thurfrit said, pulling a pad out of his robe pocket and hitting a key. Klaxons began ringing throughout the habitat to match the voice of Terta. Thurfrit jogged to the doorway, and walked out onto the porch. “What is it, Terta?”

“It’s…there’s a statement coming from the Poron,” Terta said. She looked exhausted; few of any of them had slept. She’d been watching the news on one of the few balanced feeds in the Federation, when they’d abruptly dropped offline. Switching to the most popular and most Titan-Party-Friendly channel, she was shocked to see them discussing something called the “New Empire.” It had taken about five minutes to sort it out, and she’d begun shouting for people to get up as soon as she had.

The Titans filtered into the room, and most of the humans wandered out onto the porch. Terta transferred the video to the wall screen, just as Jota Cesil appeared.

“My dear friends,” Cesil said, in typically sonorous tones. “Today will be remembered as a great day in our nation’s history. Today, we declare that we shall no longer quail and quake before those who would destroy our culture. Today, we begin to restore the greatness of the Titan peoples.

“Earlier this morning, the Floor Leader of the Empire contacted me. She told me that she planned to suspend our government, and occupy us with interlopers and busybodies. Did she make this move because I was corrupt, and stealing from the people? Because I was not caring for your welfare, or because the government refused to fairly administer the laws? No, no. The Floor Leader threatened to invade us over an unfortunate incident, the accidental euthanizing of a pet human. Can you imagine? A pet human gets put down, and she would invade our fair worlds?”

Cesil smiled, and shook his head in mock-bewilderment. “This is what the decadence of the Empire has come to. The threat that blood shall be spilled over pets. That they would bring down a duly elected government of the people because of some animal-lovers.

“It is ridiculous. I shall not abandon you simply because a shaar got killed. The very suggestion is proof that the Empire, whatever its former glory, has irrevocably lost its way. We have hoped it would find its way back to its principles, but we hoped in vain. And so, with a heavy heart, this morning I am announcing that all worlds in Federation space are withdrawing from the Empire. We do so not to separate ourselves from the Empire, but to renew it. Today, I proclaim a New Empire, and invite all Titans to join us. In order to preserve the new Empire, I have adopted supreme executive authority until such time as it is safe to proceed with the formation of a new government.

“Now, I do want to directly address those members of other species who currently live as our guests. The civilized species – Avartle, Dunnermac, and Ler – and the pets with pretensions of civilization, the humans. I want you to know that I will not hinder you as you return to your homes. You will have one week to depart; we will prepare shuttles home for you. Those of you who choose to remain…well, the New Empire is a Titan Empire. You are not welcome here, unless you understand your role. For the Avartle, Dunnermac, and Ler, that means you serve your Titan betters. You may work, but you will not have the vote. As for humans, that means that you choose willingly to live as pets. No more of these pretensions to personhood. Finally, to those from the old Empire, we will let you go home. We will not let you whip up dissent anymore. But if you are willing to help build a true Titan society, then you are welcome to stay here with us, and by your actions in our defense, gain citizenship.

“Now, to the Titan citizens of the New Empire: the next few days and weeks will be difficult. No doubt, the old Empire will not let us go quietly. But we are Titans, and no people is better at defending their homes than we. For now, stay in your homes when you are not at work or school – a general curfew will be in place. Further information will be coming in the next few hours. Stand strong, Titans. May fate shine on the New Empire. May fate smile on the Titan people.”

Temis turned the video off, and looked around the room. The Imperials in the room looked shocked, stunned. But the Federationers…they looked like he felt. Like they’d taken a gut punch. Like their entire existence was collapsing.

He was about to speak, when his pad chimed. It was a message from “Safym Viaf,” telling him what he already expected – his party had been outlawed by decree, an arrest warrant had been issued for him and his family. Fortunately, his daughters were off-world, and his wife had been copied on the message – she knew the drill as well as he did.

“We have,” Temis said, “about four hours. Maybe five. You need to get to your shuttle, and go.”

“What about you?” Thurfrit asked.

“I have a plan in place. Bidi? Masra? 15-3.”

“Right, boss,” Masra said, typing furiously into her pad.

“And what about the humans?” Thurfrit asked.

“You’ll have to go. I’m sorry, but I can’t protect you from this. We’ll have to hope that the Empire doesn’t flinch.”

Thurfrit looked across the room at Aezhay. She nodded; he had to smile at that. She couldn’t see his face at that range. But she knew what he was thinking anyhow.

“Aezhay and I are staying,” Thurfrit said. “Everyone else, pack up; Aranta, you’re in charge of the Foundation until I return. Tylum, you’re Aranta’s strong right arm. And someone, get a hold of Leny and make sure she’s ready to bug out too.”

“Thurfrit, that’s suicide,” Temis said.

“Yeah, maybe,” Thurfrit said, looking at Bheloro. “But last night, I said that we would stay and fight. Maybe it’s not safe for the Foundation to be openly active, but maybe occasionally, I can pop my head up, at the same time you do. After all, Councilor – I expect your plan includes poking your head up. Otherwise you’d come with us. But I won’t abandon the humans here to their fate. And as long as I’m here – even if imprisoned, or made into a pet, or…well, Yamanu died to help free humans in the Federation. I will not let his sacrifice be for naught.”

Temis grinned. “Mr. Maris, you are a worthy ally. Your wife, though….”

“I’m not leaving him here by himself,” Aezhay said. “I’m staying.”

“All right. We’ve got four hours,” Thurfrit said, “let’s get packed in one.”

——————

Author’s note: thanks once again to DX for contributing this chapter in its entirety. I’ll be back on Thursday.

-OHH