Frontiers of the imperiu.., p.1
Frontiers of the Imperium, page 1
FRONTIERS OF THE IMPERIUM
THE CENTRAL IMPERIUM SERIES
BOOK 1
JAN KOTOUČ
Translated by
ISABEL STAINSBY
NOVUS MUNDI
CONTENTS
Map
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
APPENDICES
Superluminary (FTL) Travel and the Principles of the Gertz Drive
About the Author
Frontiers of the Imperium
By Jan Kotouč
Translation by Isabel Stainsby
Copyright 2023 by Jan Kotouč
Cover Copyright 2023 by Top of the World Publishing
Cover art by Tomasz Maroński
Cover design by Lukáš Tuma
All rights reserved.
The author is hereby established as the sole holder of the copyright. Either the publisher or author may enforce copyrights to the fullest extent.
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-961511-20-0
Print ISBN: 978-1-961511-21-7
First printing: 2018
Published by Top of the World Publishing, a Texas limited liability company, inclusive of its affiliates, subsidiaries, imprints, successors and assigns, with offices at 1008 S. Main St., Georgetown, TX 78626.
topoftheworldpublishing.com
Printed in the United States of America.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the express prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Publisher’s Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
This book is dedicated to Bahruz Mahmudov,
who has been a friend of our family for almost a half century.
And to every person who contributed to the Frontiers of the Imperium Indiegogo campaign, helping make this project a reality.
1
The Myriad Casino in the middle of Hub Central was very well air-conditioned, and Daniel Hankerson was grateful for this. The air was always fresh and refreshing – by the standards of a giant space station – and the musty, sweaty smell of the players’ despair was not evident.
Fresh air was not all that the Myriad offered; there was also the view. It was one of the most luxurious casinos on Hub Central. The extensive space with its towering columns was dominated by gigantic globes, in which live fish of all colors swam back and forth. Rays of light refracted through the globes, bathing the halls in shimmering rainbows. It would look like a nightclub, except that the casino was not gloomy; rather, it was brightly lit, and the colored light only added to the atmosphere.
There were eight separate halls in the casino and each had its own bar and willing staff. While robots held waiting jobs in most of the station, the Myriad prided itself on employing human waiters and waitresses. Daniel was convinced that at least half of them had undergone bioplastic surgery, because surely it was not possible to meet so many gorgeous people all at once.
The Myriad simply targeted clientele from the best society, so nobody was bothered by the presence of Daniel, an Enhans. Daniel had previously encountered minor prejudices in several casinos, where it did not make sense to explain that an Enhans’ chances of winning were no greater than anyone else’s. Enhans, often known colloquially as ‘Enners’, could boast faster reflexes, greater physical resistance, a faster metabolism and many other things including a higher average IQ, but even though the Protectors’ original design was intended to improve brain capacity, no Enhans was automatically a mathematical genius able to figure out what cards the other players held.
Some people were still convinced that an Enhans would definitely cheat, but Daniel wasn’t too worried by this; he had learned to live with it. He frequented various casinos, but the Myriad was his favorite.
Here there was a wide choice of games, from roulette and blackjack to a game adopted from the Gliesans, one of the alien species living in the Central Imperium. The game was quite entertaining, despite boasting the strange name of Naz-Bar-Bardam.
Nevertheless, Daniel Hankerson turned his attention, as usual, to one of his greatest casino passions.
“Mr. Bertold, you are big blind,” said the croupier, who could have walked into any beauty contest in the Imperium and walked off with the crown.
“Oh! Certainly,” said the player to Daniel’s left, and tossed a hundred chip onto the gaming table. Daniel had small blind and raised him a fifty chip. Meanwhile, he glanced at Bertold, who could not take his eyes off the dealer. Hanz Bertold was an elegant man of around sixty, and obviously the sort of self-made rich man who wanted others to believe that he had been born into higher society, as if it mattered. He wore an extravagant suit and Daniel figured that Bertold used to be bald, but, judging from his hairstyle and just the way it looked, he had commissioned new genetic hair. At the same time, however, his new hair was too long and thick to look good on him.
People like him regularly visited the casino, largely to display that they could afford it, and because they thought that the rich were also frequent visitors. His image was helped by his attempt to speak with that same drawl that some Enhans also affected, as if it were a mark of success.
Grinning to himself about this, Daniel looked at the two cards he held in his hand. The six of spades and the Jack of diamonds. Not a combination, but there was no need to hold off here either.
“Place your bets, please,” said the dealer, and placed the flop of three cards on the table.
The remaining two players called big blind. As small blind Daniel needed only to raise the half, but he decided otherwise.
He threw down two chips. “One hundred.”
His opponents were certainly trying to guess whether his hand was interesting, or whether he was just bluffing. This was what was important in this game, more so than in any other.
Mr. Bertold was first in line, but he only raised fifty. “I call.”
“I call,” said the player opposite Daniel; a lady of maybe forty, in a richly decorated red robe of the type worn on Wuwei, where there was a remarkable biracial population descended from colonists from mainland China and central Africa.
Wu Festian focused on the game through small, calculating eyes. Daniel concluded that she was the sort of person who precisely calculates the probability of each card and analyzes all the possible outcomes. He ventured to predict that Festian was also an excellent chess player. She gave the impression of having actually been born into higher society, and smiled at Daniel a few times, as if considering letting him win because he was the Emperor’s great nephew.
Reminding himself that he must not get carried away or over-analyze things, Daniel turned his attention to the third player. Here analysis was almost too easy.
Brigadier General Jean Flaubert had a face like a lump of granite. Unlike Daniel, who was wearing his own clothes, Flaubert had put on his most magnificent dress uniform and was proudly displaying all his medals, as if awaiting admiration. Daniel noticed that several of them were for combat deployment in anti-pirate patrols and in battles against the Ralgars. Although these battles had taken place many years ago, Flaubert was a warrior still; he stared at the card table with a cold, focused expression, as if a battle plan were lying there.
All three players called Daniel’s bet.
When the bets were in, the dealer turned over the first card of the flop.
Daniel settled down and concentrated on the game.
“Excuse me, Mr. Hankerson, there is a robot at the entrance claiming to be your servant.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow as the doorman bowed to him almost subserviently, but spoke with an expression suggesting that, clearly, such a noble sir could not possibly have a robot servant.
“Yes, that will be Kelvin. Let him come in,” he smiled. “If it isn’t a problem?”
“Of course not, sir, of course not.” The doorman swept off and Daniel cast an apologetic glance at his opponents.
“I do apologize. I don’t think it will be anything important.”
“Is it usual for people of your rank to have a robot servant, Lieutenant?” asked General Flaubert, a little resentfully. Daniel suspected that this guy still cleaned his own boots even now.
“The rules permit officers to have robot servants. I am merely taking advantage of them,” he said, haughtily. Robots were not cheap, of course, and Daniel could afford one, though the majority of officers could not. But when other peopl
And as a card-player.
“Servants are great, human and robot,” said Bertold, and chuckled. “But let’s play!”
They had already been playing for over two hours. Daniel’s heap of chips had grown considerably, but Bertold was also not faring badly. Fissures were appearing in Flaubert’s stony countenance as he watched his chips melt away. At this rate he would be out of the game within half an hour. Wu Festian stuck to her careful analysis, and sometimes it worked out for her, so she continued.
Daniel looked at his hand. A seven and a nine. Four cards were already face up on the table, another nine, a six, a four and a Queen. Festian tried to behave unobtrusively, but her right hand constantly caressed the little finger of her left. However, this seemed very artificial; maybe she was faking a nervous tic. Did she have a good card but wanted to pretend that she didn’t?
The doorman came towards them with Kelvin, Daniel’s servant.
“Fold,” said Daniel, and laid down his cards. “Please deal me out of the next round.”
General Flaubert cast a sullen glance at Kelvin and turned back to the cards.
Daniel stood up and moved a few steps away.
“Is this your robot, sir?” asked the doorman.
“Yes, thank you.”
“At your service, sir.”
But Daniel had already turned to face Kelvin.
“What’s up?”
“You did not return when you said you would,” said Kelvin, primly. He was a typical K-20 model robot from Ashur Robotics, deliberately designed to evoke the early illustrations of robots from the twentieth century. Kelvin was made entirely of metal alloys, with long, slim legs leading up to a sturdy torso, from which protruded arms that were only just wider than his legs. On the flat, smooth torso sat his equally flat, smooth head, but two blue eyes gleamed from it and beneath them was the speaker, from which his voice could be heard.
His voice had been set to what Ashur Robotics called “Christopher Lee”, whoever that was.
“Yes, I didn’t return home on time. This is my last evening on the Station, Kelvin, and I stayed out to play cards. I’ll be playing for some time yet.”
“You said you would be back in your quarters by midnight.”
“Yes, I did, but I wasn’t.”
“I tried to call you and couldn’t.”
“Kelvin, I turned the comlink off. I wanted to be left alone. By everything and everyone.”
“Sir, how can I serve you when you don’t cooperate with me?!”
This was typical of this model. K-20s were English butlers to a T.
“Kelvin, you’re not my mother.”
“I would not dare to suggest that, Mr. Daniel. Of course I am not your mother, if only because I do not possess the reproductive apparatus to allow me to conceive a child. But I want to serve you faithfully.”
“Okay, I understand. But I don’t need your help. I’m going to be here for some time, so you can just go back to the barracks.” The officers waiting to report aboard their ships had allocated quarters on Hub Central. Until recently they had been bursting at the seams, but most officers waiting to be attached to the Seventh Fleet were already aboard their vessels and the Seventh Fleet would soon leave for the war. If there had been any activity anywhere this week, it had been in the bars and brothels of all price categories, where the officers and astronauts went for one last good time before flying off to war. The Myriad had had the same traffic as at any other time, mainly due to the fact that it was expensive.
“Please will you leave your comlink on, sir?” Kelvin tried again.
“Yes, okay, I will, and...” Daniel paused, struck by an idea. “Actually, given that you’re here, could you get me a drink from the bar?”
If Kelvin could smile, he would have done so now. His blue eyes certainly gleamed somewhat brighter.
“Of course, sir. My pleasure. What will you have?”
“A Tombara Sling,” said Daniel. “And make sure they mix it properly.”
“I’ll be right back!”
The robot scuttled away and Daniel returned to the table, where another game was just finishing. As he was expecting, Wu Festian had won.
Possibly Kelvin would distract their attention a little. It would certainly raise the hackles of the casino staff that he had sent his robot to get him a drink, rather than one of their beautiful waitresses. The other players at the table, mainly Flaubert, but probably also Bertold, inferred again that he was simply some loaded buck who liked to show off.
“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said, nonchalantly. “Who is big blind?”
The dealer gave an answer, but Daniel’s attention was suddenly distracted. Over her shoulder, he could see one of the casino’s entrances; four sturdy men were just coming in. They moved quickly, and their eyes flew over the entire hall in an instant. All were wearing thick jackets, even though the temperature was maintained at a pleasant eighteen degrees everywhere on the station.
Their movements were confident, they knew where they were going and why they were here. Daniel suddenly realized that it was not to play cards.
One of the security guards at the door had realized this too, and was now running towards them. He opened his mouth to say something, but one of the men brutally punched him in the stomach, then delivered a second blow to his head. Then they all quickly drew weapons from their jackets, two pistols and two submachine guns.
A ray of light from one of the ceiling aquariums fell directly onto the face of the group leader.
“Nobody move, this is a stick up! We only want some money!” he yelled. Two of his cronies fired into the air.
The screams of guests reverberated round the casino. Some clutched their heads in panic, others hid under tables or lay on the floor. Others remained seated as if turned to stone.
So did Daniel. Armed robbery? Here? Hub Central was enormous, certainly big enough to have its own underworld, but a robbery here? Those people could have a maximum of a few minutes before the Station police arrived.
Did they want to shoot their way out?
One of them had already darted over to the armored door, where chips were exchanged for money, and was threatening the man behind the screen. Even now, chips could be exchanged for actual banknotes, and that was what they were after.
The remaining three looked around the hall again. Daniel noticed that his three opponents and the dealer had frozen. Keep still and don’t move. Those meatheads would not get half a block from the casino before being caught. Playing the hero made no sense, even the casino staff understood that. Everything was insured, it made no sense to take any risks and...
“Hey, you!” shouted one of the thieves, and Daniel, astonished, saw that the thief was looking directly at him. He advanced, the light and shadows from the suspended aquarium illuminating his face, and Daniel saw mulishness there, and something else.
“I’ve seen photos of you! You’re an Enner! I fuckin’ hate Enners!”
He raised his sub-machinegun and opened fire.
2
The burst of fire from the sub-machinegun thundered through the casino.
Daniel jumped away from the card table with a speed that probably surprised the shooter.
Another scream. This time the guests leapt to their feet in panic.
“Oh my God!” shrieked Bertold beside him, and dived under the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel saw Flaubert pushing Festian and the dealer to the floor and immediately yelling with pain.
