Chaotic futures, p.11
Chaotic Futures, page 11
A rebel was assigned to remain in contact with the shuttle supervisor, who informed the young female when the shuttle with the contaminated water lifted.
Two cycles later, Tartoff met alone with the admin maintenance tech and handed him a single bottle.
That evening, the rebel network called friends and warned of the need to desert the area around the admin buildings for three cycles. Nothing like this message had ever been shared. For the population, who had been under constant threat from the Radags, it sounded dire.
Many citizens received several calls from various friends, as the population thought to be sure everyone heard the message and intended to obey it.
Early the following morning, the maintenance crews left the admin buildings, and they kept going, taking vehicles to be with their families and friends in faraway districts.
The Radag commander at the central admin building received disturbing news from two sources that morning. His squad leaders informed him that not a single Tremloff was in the building. In reply, he warned his warriors to prepare for an attack, and they locked and barred doors to defend the building.
The second news source was the Krackus operations director.
“Repeat what you said,” the commander demanded.
“I’ve received a call from the transport imperator,” the director said. “Everyone on the ship is ill.”
“Everyone?” the commander queried.
“Medical believes that the water must have been doused for the effect on the crew to be total,” the director explained.
Suddenly, the commander connected the dots, and he stared angrily at the glass of water on his desk. Making quick calls to his squad leaders, he directed them not to touch the water.
The director belatedly realized the implications, and he did the same thing for the Krackus in the building.
“What about the Krackus employees at the regional admin buildings?” the director asked anxiously.
“My squad leaders will warn the warriors there, and they will inform your business leaders,” the commander replied.
The commander took a moment to check how he felt. He was relieved that he felt fine.
The director and the commander of the central admin building knew that the transport had a serious shipwide infection. However, they didn’t know if their building was part of the attack. They also didn’t know if the satellite locations had been affected.
If the commander could have caught and interrogated a perpetrator, he would have learned that the rebels had ensured that the Krackus regional admin operations had also been targeted. That was the purpose of the other seven bottles — one to target every Krackus business location.
Anywhere the Krackus conducted their operations, the populace had deserted the area.
That’s the other news the central commander received. The Radags who were stationed at the satellite buildings reported no Tremloffs to support operations.
“Do you think the populace is intending to attack every place where they find my race?” the director inquired of the central commander.
“If so, they’ll commit suicide,” the commander growled. “My warriors will rend these floppy ears into shreds.”
The Radags waited out the cycle, waiting for attacks that never came.
The central commander received regular reports from the ship and the satellite buildings. He was concerned about the deteriorating conditions aboard the transport.
The following cycle, the central commander ordered a pair of warriors from every regional center to reconnoiter. Before the midday meal arrived, he’d heard from every pair. They reported that every nearby workplace and residence was locked and shuttered. Furthermore, not a single Tremloff was seen.
By the time the central commander put the pieces together, it was late on the second full cycle, and he didn’t feel so well. Neither did anyone else.
“The floppy ears have poisoned us,” the commander told the director, who sat behind his desk with his head resting on his arms.
“Then the Tremloffs should have a cure for the poison,” the director mumbled though his arms.
“If medics exist who know how to counteract the poison, they’re hiding with the rest of the citizens who’ve disappeared,” the commander replied. “I think that’s the purpose of the citizens’ desertion. No one will come to our rescue.”
In the evening, the commander placed another call to the transport. He had trouble reaching anyone. Finally, a medical tech answered his call. He started to speak, but he was told to shut up. Under the circumstances, he was too tired to be angry.
“I don’t know how much longer I might remain conscious, Commander,” the tech said. “We’ve not been poisoned. I repeat. It’s not a poison. It’s a flagellate, and an extremely nasty one. So far, we’ve not found any means of defeating it.”
“Have any crew succumbed to it?” the commander asked. He heard an ugly gurgle that ended in a fit of coughing.
“The dead have been left where they fell. As of now, that’s mostly everybody,” the tech said. “I haven’t left my nest for a full cycle.”
The commander heard a second string of heavy coughs, and the call abruptly ended.
The director, who had heard the call to the transport, stared forlornly at the commander. “You know that we did this to ourselves,” he said.
“I know,” the commander responded, slumping into a comfortable chair. “It was bound to happen, but I thought it might come in the guise of a glorious battle.”
“The Tremloffs, the floppy ears as you call them, aren’t equipped for face-to-face fights,” the director said. “They attacked us with what they had at hand. It happened to be deadly parasites.”
“It makes my skin crawl to think they’re multiplying inside me,” the commander said.
“Beforehand, I never wanted to know, but now I’m curious,” the director said. “How many Tremloffs have been killed by the Radags? All Radag deployments on this planet, I mean.”
The commander shrugged and consulted his device for the historical records. “Three thousand four hundred nineteen,” he replied.
The director gurgled, and some bloody froth appeared in the corner of his beak. “Well, you have the advantage, Commander,” he said. “You’ve killed far more Tremloffs than these perpetrators will count with those of my race and yours.”
“Poor consolation,” the commander remarked. The depressing conversation irritated him, and he chose to leave the director to his misery. When he stood, he felt dizzy, and he walked carefully toward his sleeping quarters.
After five more cycles, the rebels and teams of medical personnel approached the central admin building and the satellite locations.
Carefully, medical teams cleared the buildings of bodies. They were taken for incineration.
In the meantime, the rebels doused every water source and container in the admin buildings with heavy concentrations of salt. Nothing was overlooked.
Later, scientists would arrive to inspect the rebels’ work by searching for cysts.
By the time a freighter arrived in system, the Krackus and the Radags had been gone for more than thirty cycles.
The freighter imperator failed to contact anyone aboard the Imperium transport. Next, he tried the planet’s admin building.
Tartoff was happy to take the call. He said, “I’m sorry to inform you, Imperator, that there isn’t a single Krackus available to take your call.”
“What have you done with them?” the imperator demanded.
“The Krackus and the Radags succumbed to a deadly flagellate,” Tartoff replied. “If I were you, I wouldn’t board the transport. We’ve been told by medical specialists that the flagellates encyst when a body’s fluids are exhausted. There’s a good chance that one of your crew members might become infected. That would lead to your entire crew succumbing.”
“You’re lying,” the imperator accused.
“Board the transport, Imperator,” Tartoff replied. “Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”
As it was, the imperator’s fear won out, and he ordered his declinator to reverse course. He sailed for Imperium to report the loss of the Tremloff home world.
9: An Amended Agenda
IMPERIUM, PALTUR SYSTEM
KRACKUS HOME WORLD
Rebtar’s senior admin prepared to close the agenda for the final cycle of the assembly’s meetings. Then his monitor flashed an update, and he wondered who was so audacious that they would adjust the agenda without consulting with him.
On closer inspection, the admin noticed that the governor had extended what was scheduled to be a short meeting. He opened the item and froze. Checking the chronometer, he realized that Rebtar would be in his nest by now.
“Governor,” the admin said.
“You added an agenda item giving conclave individuals time in front of the assembly,” the admin pointed out.
“Explain,” the admin requested.
“Do you have other hidden messages from Kreus?” the admin inquired.
“As the conclave members aren’t in system, there should be no concern about deleting the agenda item,” the admin offered.
“Are the fleets responding?” the admin asked.
“Then it seems that tomorrow will be a longer meeting than the executors expected,” the admin mused. He updated the agenda for the other executors’ senior admins. Then he removed his device from the monitor and called it a night.
The next morning, the senior admins anxiously informed their executors about the agenda’s change. Many executors were annoyed to hear of the extended meeting. Then they learned the reason. Immediately, calls ensued, as the executors sought to speak to those who’d met with the conclave members previously.
Gaketork’s admins were flooded with requests to talk to the executor. Per the directive they’d received, the admins connected every caller to the ongoing conference.
“Cremsylon made it clear that he would return to attend our next meeting,” Gaketork was saying.
“But our agenda was updated by the governor,” an executor pointed out.
“Technically, the message originated from Kreus,” another executor corrected.
“How the agenda was edited is unimportant,” Gaketork said firmly. “Cremsylon has arrived to meet with the assembly. Does anyone doubt that?”
Despite the fact that the majority of the executors were involved in the call with Gaketork, there wasn’t a single objection.
“Now we must prepare for this meeting,” Gaketork emphasized.
“How can we prepare? We don’t know what Cremsylon will say or demand of us,” an executor, a long-term supporter of Dakargk, grumped.
“If you think that, then you haven’t been paying attention to our meetings for the past annual,” an executor shot back.
Before the discussion got out of hand, Gaketork called for calm. “The conclave’s stance is clear. Imperium must cease from dominating other races. Cremsylon offered us a way to achieve this process.”
“But it would end our executorships,” the Dakargk supporter claimed.
“It would,” Gaketork replied. “If we lost our territories this cycle, who among us doesn’t have the credits to live comfortably for the remainder of their life?”
“Our income is our insurance against future chaos,” the supporter stated strenuously.
“Perhaps, we’re the initiators of that future chaos,” Gaketork challenged. “Maybe, we should be working to ensure that it doesn’t come about.”
A minority of the callers dropped off the conference, but the majority remained online to listen.
Soon, it was time to begin the assembly meeting, and the executors left their offices with their senior admins behind them to gain dais seats.
After Rebtar opened the meeting, he announced the first agenda item, which made most executors wince.
“You’ve the floor, Executor Grageth,” Rebtar said.
“Let me summarize my territory’s present output. It’s zero,” Grageth began. “While some of you might be considering that you’re fortunate that those aren’t your circumstance, you aren’t facing reality. At this time, Imperium worlds have lost nearly four percent of their inbound trade. Furthermore, between my two patrol fleets, I’ve lost an entire complement of ships.”
Grageth stared along both sides of the dais, expecting questions or advice. The assembly was silent, and he gurgled darkly. “Thank you for your support,” he said accusatively.
“Against the conclave, there’s nothing we can do to regain your territory,” an executor replied, bristling.
“Do you think this won’t happen to your territory?” Grageth challenged.
“I’m sure it will happen to many territories,” Gaketork replied. “It’s only a matter of time. I’m bothered that this body can’t see the future clearly. The earlier we cooperate with the conclave, the better opportunity for our Krackus worlds.”
An admin handed an urgent message to his executor who read it and squawked.
“Should you share?” Rebtar asked.
“As it pertains to this discussion, I should,” the executor replied. “The Tremloff home world in my territory has been a great source of electronic equipment. Rather, it was a great source. A freighter imperator reports that all the Krackus and the Radags are dead.”
Rebtar quieted the uproar and asked the executor to continue.
“According to the imperator, these individuals succumbed to some kind of deadly parasite,” the executor said.
“A plague?” Rebtar inquired.
“That doesn’t seem to be the case,” the territory executor replied. “The imperator spoke to a Tremloff who reported that the Krackus and the Radags were dead. He didn’t mention anything about the local inhabitants. Furthermore, he warned the imperator not to board the Imperium transport. Something about contamination from the dead crew frightened the imperator to reverse course.”
“That’s not a plague,” Dakargk surmised. “It’s a targeted attack.”
“Why now?” the territory executor queried.
“Escalation,” Dakargk replied laconically, which angered some executors.
“I think you should explain,” Rebtar said, directing his focus at Dakargk.
Dakargk shrugged, as if the answer should have been obvious. “Some of the invaders are great tacticians, especially the two giant bots,” he said.
“I believe you’re referring to Miranda and Z,” Gaketork interrupted.
“That’s what I said — the two giant bots,” Dakargk continued, unruffled by the correction. “They’ve commandeered Darmian. As I’ve told this body, peacekeepers can’t rotate Radag commands when the contracts have ended. The commanders and warriors resent this.”
“But, we’re paying bonuses, in addition to the regular stipends,” an executor objected.
“I can’t educate you about the Radag mindset,” Dakargk replied. “You have to meet with them many times to realize how much they live for combat, which they’re forbidden to do while serving on these dominated home worlds.”
“How does this affect our citizens on these far worlds?” an executor inquired.
“It means that the warriors will want to find the means to relieve their frustrations,” Dakargk replied. “They’ll start with one another, which the commanders will try to control. Then the warriors will seek other outlets. The logical choice will be the local populace. That’s what I mean by escalation. At some point, the local citizens will have enough of the abuse, and they’ll retaliate.”
“Does anyone else have similar circumstances?” Rebtar asked. “Maybe an expected report or shipment has failed to materialize.”
Nearly a quarter of the executors raised their hands, which surprised the assembly. After hearing the details of six events, the executors perceived the similarities.
“Could these be coordinated attacks?” an executor asked.
“Governor,” Rebtar requested.
“Compare the locations of the incidents that have been described and offer the probability of prior communications among the local inhabitants,” Rebtar directed.
“Under the circumstances, I think Executor Dakargk’s explanation is probably the common indicator,” Rebtar said.
Admins passed the latest report from fleet headquarters, which told that the three conclave ships had sailed closer to Imperium, and a shuttle had launched. It would arrive above the home world during the assembly’s midday break.
Gaketork gurgled softly. It amazed him that the conclave members could cross vast areas of space to arrive outside a system, launch a shuttle, and arrive in time for their appointment. Then again, those were the capabilities of the conclave’s SADEs.
The assembly debated the steps they might take to relieve the pressure on their dominated systems, but no agreement was reached. Many executors didn’t expect a resolution, which is why they anticipated Cremsylon’s arrival with interest.
At the midday break, meals were consumed quickly, and every executor and senior admin returned to their seats early.
