Chapter 33: Peace Talks

The gleaming, streamlined metal of the Alecto reflected the lights of Orion Prime. The ship, dispatched by the HS diplomatic corps, had withdrawn from the orbit of Valentine, a marshy and forbidden moon which, like the famous travel destination Escalus, orbited the giant Verona-whose massive bulk sheltered both satellites around a neutron star.

The decommissioned museum ship had shifted to orbit Francisco, and its antique silhouette looked as strange as a three-masted ship floating in the sky. But during those long years of exile, the vessel had gained in splendor, and passing Ozys often looked upon it with admiration.

“I’m rather relieved to leave Valentine,” admitted Captain Andreï to the HS Presidential Council, “but between us-why the Alecto?”

“You’re going to host a peace protocol for the civil war with the League,” replied Iracema Alta, President of the HS, already focused on another screen for a pressing meeting.

“The League of Antioch demanded that the meeting be held on a ship not far from their own, and unarmed. The Alecto was already disarmed, and I want this resolved as quickly as possible. Antioch is like the ocean winds of Hume, shifting direction every minute, so let’s strike while the iron is hot.”

“So you’re not caught off guard, Madam President,” Andreï added, “I should tell you I’m in disgrace with the Admiralty Council. They won’t appreciate me being given such a prestigious mission.”

“The Admiralty and the Stellar Fleet have proven incapable of managing this conflict, consistently worsening it by piling on senseless bloodbaths. The mere fact that they despise you is a good sign. Captain Andreï, I have no more time to give you, but I ask one favor: make sure peace is signed. You have full authority.”

“Yes, Madam President.”

The Endymion, the League’s mothership, Piorun, cast its immense shadow not far from the Alecto. On board, Sashko Genko, leader of the League, would arrive in a few hours, after an inspection team confirmed that the Alecto was free of deadly traps. The idea brought a faint smile to Andreï’s face.

A shuttle from Orion Prime-now under League control-had brought an auxiliary delegation deemed of the highest importance. The fall of Orion Prime had been a major turning point in the conflict, triggering this summit, and there was little doubt the war hero who had led the assault on the station would be among the arrivals.

Andreï, accompanied by Pallas, came to welcome them. Rather than surprise, he felt curiosity as he saw the delegation consisted of a teenage girl with a fierce gaze, a rifle slung over her shoulder, a worn-out stuffed animal on her belt, and an unknown Xeno perched on her shoulder. Beside her, another Xeno stood, vacant-eyed-another unknown species. And yet ... Andreï knew Xenos.

Something tightened in the captain’s already heavy heart: the girl looked exhausted. Her eyes carried the weight of war and abandonment.

Andreï bowed.

“Welcome aboard, Gorylkin. I’m Captain Andreï.”

“Hi.”

She was uneasy, scanning the space as if, like Sashko, she suspected the Alecto was riddled with traps. Andreï signed a few gestures in the air toward the tall Xeno, who replied in kind. Gorylkin exclaimed:

“What are you two doing?”

“I’m greeting him, in the Stellar Tongue.”

“You speak the Stellar Tongue? Who taught you? Wait-are you part of the Humble Epic of All Life?”

“I learned it from a Xeno friend. Perhaps you’d like to meet him?”

“There are Xenos aboard HS ships now?”

“Only aboard the Alecto.”

“Not everyone in the HS fleet is narrow-minded and suspicious, Gorylkin,” said Pallas.

“You’re the first two I’ve met. All right, let’s do this meeting.”

Andreï paused, then turned to Pallas with a knowing look:

“We’re running a bit late. We’ve prepared a room for you to rest in the meantime. There’s a dream-inducer in the bed.”

“You know your Psi agent won’t be able to mess with my head, right? My buddy Alpha protects me from that.”

“Then let’s hope you don’t get any sleep before then, so you’re too tired to negotiate.”

“That’s not gonna happen, Andreï.”

She followed him lightly. Walking backward, she signed in the Stellar Tongue toward Andreï:

SHIP OF YOU, BEAUTIFUL

GRATITUDE, Andreï signed back.

YOU LOVE NON-HUMAN PEOPLE, QUESTION

I LOVE ALL PEOPLE, signed Andreï with a smile

CONSEQUENCE, PEACE POSSIBLE

Then she turned around like a child and skipped ahead, marveling at the faded beauty and unnecessary details of a ship from an era when starships were more craft than industry.

The announcement that the negotiations had been postponed caused tension. When a suspicious and somewhat furious Sashko Genko loudly demanded the reason, the Captain simply replied that Gorylkin needed rest-and his anger vanished so quickly that everyone understood the young girl held considerable weight in the League’s hierarchy.

“Well played,” whispered Aubriana, the HS Council’s foreign affairs delegate, but Pallas knew he had only made that decision for Ada’s comfort. This kind of simple choice, prioritizing the human being over all else, had bonded his crew to him like a block of stone-even if it meant years of exile around an abandoned moon.

Aubriana was all restraint and firmness: white hair in a bun, Fleet uniform jacket, though she was neither military-trained nor military in manner. She introduced her team to Andreï, finishing with her Psi officer-who was no stranger to the Captain. Solstice had shed her many silver trinkets in favor of military style and uniform. Her posture was now stiff, a sign she’d been back in service for some time. Her gaze avoided Andreï’s, though his was devoid of hostility.

“Sol is the Psi officer aboard the Endymion Hades.”

“I see that when you’re not exiling us to gather dust on some national park, you can follow our recommendations.”

“I wasn’t responsible for either decision. I would like Solstice to be the Psi supervising the meeting.”

“Good to see you again,” said Solstice coldly, bowing.

“I know Officer Jovana well,” said Andreï, smiling with his eyes. “We were in a relationship while she was undercover, looking for weak links in the army. It was an illegal fraternization, but I’m not telling anyone anything new-it’s common on our ships. I fell into depression and asked her to rebuild me psychically. She turned me in, and by the strange workings of the Fleet’s internal justice, we were both demoted. And here we are again, Sol. I see we’ve both climbed back up.”

He turned to the seven people surrounding Aubriana to gauge their reactions. They were telling: honesty wasn’t exactly in the DNA of politics or the military. Aubriana hesitated.

“Are you implying you don’t want to work with her?”

“I’m saying she’s fanatically loyal to her mission. My Psi officer, Pallas, is also highly competent.”

“Is she more qualified than Sol?”

It felt strange to hear them speak about others in the third person while they were present. Aubriana went on:

“I believe there’s a ranking system for Psi power. Let’s take the best.”

“Let’s take both,” said Andreï simply. “Antioch will come with one of their Red Psis.”

A veil of fear passed over Solstice’s eyes.

“I agree. Two won’t be too many.”

“What are you afraid of, from Antioch’s Psis? Are they strong?” asked Aubriana.

“Strong-and violent. Psychic violence is invisible, so rarely checked. A Red Psi might decide to kill us all, just because it suits Antioch’s interests.”

“Will you be up to it, Sol?” asked Aubriana.

“Pallas will be up to it,” said Andreï firmly.

“One last point: a Transient has requested to be present at the summit.”

“Unexpected, but good. They’ll serve as a guarantor for any commitments made. Pallas, have an Android prepared. We have a lovely chrome model from last century.”

“Between us, Andreï, I don’t like Transients meddling in our politics.”

“I share your view, but I’m realistic. They’ve bought us centuries ago with their marvels-from the Drift that brought you here, to the artificial gravity that keeps us standing in this hallway. And if we had to choose again, we’d make the same deal. Let’s at least thank them for their courtesy. In truth, they wouldn’t even need to ask for us to obey their every whim.”

He nodded, smiled at Sol, and resumed walking slowly down the corridor with Pallas.

A few hours later, a chime rang at the door of the guest room where Ada and her escort were staying. The girl was already up; her eyes looked sharper, and her face rested. Rifle on her back, she was hunched over a chessboard, placing the pieces randomly.

Andreï entered and asked if Gorylkin wanted to learn.

“Do we even have time?” she asked.

Andreï replied that they did, even though the truth was the meeting would begin the moment Ada left her room-and both the HS and League delegations were on edge, waiting.

He explained the movement of the pieces, and they began a very slow game. Andreï seemed deeply focused on it. Alpha leaned in as well, clearly interested, and the captain signed the rules in Stellar Tongue as he explained them aloud.

“Are you being nice to me so I’ll go easy on the HS during negotiations?” Ada asked as she played.

“No.”

“I think you’re lying.”

“I’m an excellent liar. If I ever lie to you, you won’t see it coming. But I’m not on the HS’s side. I’m on the side of peace. And if the HS delegation-or you, Gorylkin-act in bad faith or for reasons other than lasting peace, I’ll pull your ears.”

“I still don’t believe you, but I wish someone like you existed.”

“Here, in this position, your king can’t move anymore. You’ve lost the game.”

They shook hands and agreed to go to the negotiation together.

News that the summit was beginning spread as Andreï made his way slowly down the corridors with Ada and her companions, and a tension-subtle but intense-rose around them.

“I have a file on you, Gorylkin, from your Administrative Detention days. I see you were into mathematics.”

“That Administrative Detention was a real prison.”

“And with math, where are you now?”

“I like prime numbers.”

“What’s your theory? I mean, about prime numbers.”

“I don’t know. I’m catching up on human discoveries. I’m at the Riemann Hypothesis.”

“Via an AI. The most common theory among amateurs is that the question of prime distribution isn’t really a question. It’s an answer. It’s a property of mathematics. I see them as the pillars of the vast cathedral of numbers. Our discoveries let us walk around them, observe them from different angles.”

“So it just is what it is? Sounds like a lazy answer.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s a possibility. Have you heard of the Veritatis?”

“Everyone talks about it like ‘it’s freaky’ or ‘it made me hate math’.”

“It’s a method discovered by AIs. Basically, you assert something-like 1 = 2. Then you apply the Veritatis method. And it tells you if it’s true or not. But it doesn’t give the proof. You get the result, but you don’t know why. Research in mathematics now consists of making random hypotheses and feeding them into the Veritatis.”

“Wait, if you don’t have the proof, how can you be sure it’s true?”

“The Veritatis self-verifies. But your question is valid. It’s the heart of the problem. We’ve shifted from science to belief. Gorylkin, there are wars and peace treaties, births and deaths, and many worlds discovered every day-but your quest for truth through mathematics is one of the noblest paths a gifted mind can undertake in our time.”

The map room was a splendid chamber and, aside from a few picturesque museums on the Big Five, relatively unique in the universe. The Alecto had a gallery of ancient maps from Mythic Earth, all in varnished wood, dominated by a ceiling painted with a blue-and-gold celestial map from antiquity. Since then, maps made of fabric, paper, and synthetic media had been accumulated here. With the advent of the Drift, star maps no longer represented systems in geographic space: Prospero was in the same galactic arm as Earth, but Lennox lay in the Sagittarius Galaxy, and the Ur–Booz–Jerimadeth trio at the edge of the Magellanic Clouds. Thus, worlds were connected by routes annotated with dates, durations, and Drift forces. By convention, they were adorned with stellar whales and medieval dragons; suns were either benevolent or malevolent; black holes were depicted as demons.