CHAPTER 6

As the loyalist flagship sped towards Chem, Nazeera and Alexander walked in the cavernous hanger of the Kuntok. Three planetary shuttles and Nazeera’s personal scout crowded the deck. There was no recreational area on the Kuntok. This was the only place on the ship where they could walk together and not be under the scrutiny of the crew.

“How is your back?” Nazeera asked. “The surgeon worked on you for quite some time, and she seems to think her surgery was rather ineffective, the damage was significant.”

“It is much improved,” Alexander answered. “There is some discomfort, however, I can walk. I will not complain. There are many who cannot say so much and yet they do not let it slow them down. This is a limitation at worst, nothing more. I may have to give up golf for a while.”

“What is golf, one of your more violent recreations?” Nazeera asked.

“It’s not meant to be violent, though it can indeed turn out that way!” Alexander laughed. “Actually, it is a deceptively simple game which tempts ones patience and skill. If I ever return to Terra I’ll take you out on a course and show you. Only by playing it can you appreciate it. It’s not something you can explain.”

“Do you miss your planet much?”

Alexander sighed, a strange light coming into his eyes. “I hadn’t thought of it until you asked. I suppose every being misses their planet in some way. There are certain things I think of, such as my float house on Lake Pend Oreille. It’s colder there than on Chem, but it’s surrounded by the mountains. I could sit on the deck and let the waters rock me to sleep. I miss the solitude there. I don’t miss the life I led there, however.”

“I would be interested to know more of your previous life,” Nazeera told him. “I cannot quite imagine you as anything other than Alexander the Conqueror.”

“What did you think of my speech?” Alexander avoided the subject of conquest. He’d delivered a policy speech an hour ago, which the Chem recorded for broadcast. In it he broadcast his official position of Terran support for Nazeera and the loyalists, blasting the rebels, Bureel in particular, for their underhanded attacks on himself, and the Chem government which made the peace with him.

“You stepped around that question skillfully enough. You have the makings of a politician. I told you that you were eloquent, my dear Alexander,” she said. “I do not think that anyone will have any trouble whatsoever reading between the lines. For a diplomat you are rather blatant.”

“Will it help though, that’s what I want to know,” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “It’s hard to tell what will work at this point. The Guardian Armada went largely to Bureel, and so for the moment he controls the Chem Home System. He has almost two hundred ships awaiting him there, in addition to the two hundred which remain from our initial engagement. We emptied the empire to face you Alexander, excepting only the Guardian Armada. Therefore, I cannot count on any reserves but those I carry with me. There were perhaps a score of loyal ships in the Guardian Armada which escaped destruction, but whether they will still be in a position to join me in the four decurns it will take to get to Chem I do not know. I am pressing ahead as swift as I dare, but with only two hundred and fifty ships the coming battle looks grim. We beat them soundly at “Traitor’s Crossing," but with the Guardian Armada in his camp Bureel will be difficult to dislodge.”

Alexander shook his head, “The Guardian Armada has gone Bureel’s way, but what of the Assemblage? What of the Elder?”

“Bureel now has military control of the district, at least until I can get there and lift the siege,” Nazeera said sadly. “He will not dare any act against the Elder until the control of Chem is settled. If I fail to lift the siege, however, he will address the Assemblage as the military overlord of Chem. I expect he will try to coerce the Elder into stepping down and naming himself as his successor.”

“Could the Elder be cajoled into such an outrage?”

“Certainly not,” Nazeera replied. “Though I doubt Bureel will let such a minor inconvenience stop him. It is imperative that I find a way to defeat Bureel’s forces at Chem. Otherwise, I’m afraid the only way to win this war will be to topple Bureel before he ascends to the seat of the Elder. Once he has the legitimacy of that title, deserved or not, he has the advantage in his base of power, and superiority in the military.”

“Maybe, but I have noticed, my dear, that the superiority in numbers does not make up for your superiority in command.” Alexander told her. “For thirteen thousand years of inactivity you’ve learned quickly. Your victory over Bureel was an impressive piece of generalship. Caught by surprise and outnumbered you still put Bureel’s rebels to flight, and left over half his fleet wrecked. It was something we’ve both taken note of in our statements, and the fact was not lost on your adversaries. The rebels will need every bit of their advantage in numbers at Chem if Bureel hopes to escape a strangling!”

“You flatter me, Alexander,” she told him, pleased with his professional opinion. “Especially considering it was you who outmaneuvered me in our encounter. I would still like to know how you maneuvered over two hundred warships behind my back without my knowledge. Would you consider enlightening me?”

“The Scythian’s, of course,” Alexander smiled. “They were the key to everything. They were, in fact, my only real trump card. I used them to threaten Chem without really pushing you to the point of inevitable war, but they also solved certain positional problems. As you know they have innumerable regularly scheduled convoys through the Scythian-Chem frontier. It was a necessity even in those tense times because of the inordinate time lost in circumnavigating Chem space. You, of course, knew all about the convoys and you kept careful track of them with long range scans. You knew the numbers of each convoy, their course and their destination. All I did was beef up the convoys with five to ten of my ships apiece, and have the Scythians add ghost registries to their convoy manifests. When they reached their staging positions the ships dropped out and held positions in the blind spots of your scanners. It was not always easy, but they only needed to do it for a short time. The Scythian’s were all too eager to help me in any way they could. They didn’t realize my true intentions until my troops knocked on the door of their High Council.”

“It was underhanded in the extreme, what you did to the Scythian’s,” Nazeera told him. “I am almost surprised you could talk yourself into it. Didn’t it stretch your code of honor a bit?”

“I never thought of dealing with the Scythians in any manner other than they have dealt with Terrans,” he answered roughly. “I had twenty centuries of abuse to revenge. They have their lives. That is more than they deserve as far as I am concerned.”

“You are a hard man when wronged, Alexander. What are you going to do with them? You now have ten billion Scythians under your control. Previous to Alexander those Scythians controlled the major percentage of Galactic trade which is vital to the other civilized cultures. You didn’t make many friends when you attacked them Alexander.”

“I made the ones that mattered, my dear,” Alexander told her.

Nazeera laughed bitterly and clutched his arm. Turning him towards her she draped her arms around his neck, resting her forehead on his. “I’m not certain your choice was wise, Alexander. One defrocked Chem for the animosity of ten cultures and one hundred billion beings? That doesn’t seem a fair trade.”

“I call it a bargain,” Alexander smiled as he kissed her.

“Is it always going to be your manner to treat the important as mundane? I don’t think you are quite aware that Terra may be threatened anew by a powerful alliance. Those cultures, Alexander, initially feared you. Now you have given them cause to hate you. Doesn’t that worry you?”

“Not in the least,” he told her. “I am in fact, counting on it.”

“You are scheming again, aren’t you?”

“Nazeera, what a thing to say to the man who loves you!” he replied in mock surprise. It was his normal way of stopping the conversation on a subject, and they both knew it. Nazeera was right. Alexander was now, for the first time, trying to anticipate events and force himself into a position where he could control them. He’d done that to a certain extent when the Terran-Chem fleets met, but even with all the plans and preparation involved he was reacting to events already under way. He had no thought at the time of anything but gaining the required outcome. Events controlled Alexander before. This time, he wanted to control events so that they would thrust him to the forefront. The bottom line was simple: Alexander had a taste for power and he wanted back in the game. It was not so much the self gratification of the power itself as it was what he could do with it. The last three days since the rebellion began gave him a remarkable chance to do nothing but observe and think. Questions came to his mind that he knew no other Human was considering: what was the Terran place in this galaxy of multiple civilizations? What would the response of these other civilizations be? What kind of empire could guarantee Terran security and growth in the galaxy? Where did the newly conquered Scythians fit in? The latter question surprisingly gave him the least trouble. Despite his vindictive talk Alexander considered his vendetta settled. The Scythians were a conquered people, but that, in his view, was no reason for them to be trodden upon. History took a dim view on those conquerors past who abused their former adversaries, and Alexander believed in history.

His conquest of Scythia was not accomplished by startling new tactics, nor was the coercion of Chem to peace. What was original was Alexander’s insight on what would give the Chem the ability to settle for peace, and the fact that he combined that requirement with a war of aggression on another race. Unfortunately, Alexander considered the strategy only partially successful. The Chem civil war was definitely an unforeseen result. He’d already used the civil war, though, as a pulpit to the rest of the galaxy. Alexander spoke to the galaxy for the Terran Empire. His message was designed to help Nazeera if it could, but it was also designed to show the galaxy who they faced in Terra. The Terran Empire was not a faceless conglomeration of star systems; it was indelibly linked to Alexander.

He had no doubts whatsoever that there would be some in the Terran government who would see it as a blatant throw for power. In a way, he admitted, they were correct. He thought he saw the direction Humans needed to take in space, and the pitfalls before them. He wanted to have a hand in guiding his people through this dangerous period. When Humankind was truly established in space, he told himself, and then he could let the course of events wander a bit, but not now. He knew that the recently created Terran Federation would shortly form a legislative body, slow moving and inefficient. He knew that an executive would be chosen. That executive, however well meaning, would be completely out of touch with what went on in the galaxy, and far too weak to deal with the Galactic crisis which was swiftly approaching. In his studies of Galactic communiqués of the last three days Alexander read a growing panic in the Galactic community. Though there was a great deal of consternation due to the loss of Scythian trading the real discomfiture was a result of Alexander’s peace with the Chem. The Galactics believed wholeheartedly in the “Legend of Alexander" and Terra’s innate desire for Galactic conquest. There was no doubt that Alexander himself was the conqueror they’d all feared for the last millennium. Despite the personal admiration Alexander won on Pantrixnia his fame was overshadowed by the fear of his intentions. Secretly the Galactics rooted for the Chem to destroy this dangerous race, while hoping that the Scythians, and their purse strings, could somehow be spared. To the dismay of the Galactics, however, the Chem made peace with Alexander, and now to make matters even worse they were embroiled in civil war. Watching with a sense of horror and disbelief the Galactics cringed as a third of the Chem Armada was wrecked upon itself. Aside from the political upheaval the Chem civil war rapidly left the Galactic’s most ardent warriors in a position too weak to shield their neighbors from the expected Terran onslaught. It was a scenario too disturbing for the Galactics not to react, and too advantageous to the Terran position not to have Alexander’s signature on it.

Alexander found the blunt truth of Galactic broadcasts very informative. The Galactics, despite their ages of bureaucratic and political intrigue, were too concerned over the present situation to conduct their affairs behind closed doors. All too obviously they considered the Terran position, that is to say Alexander’s position, unshakable. Therefore, they conducted their own frantic debates publicly with no regard to what information their potential adversaries might glean from them. The stereotypical rigidity of the Galactic viewpoint greatly simplified the scenario in Alexander’s mind.

By themselves the Galactics were doing everything in their power to raise Alexander to the position of Overlord of the Terran Empire. The Galactics dismissed out of hand reports that Terra was in the process of forming a Federation. Who were the Terrans kidding—a Federation? The Galactics viewed the word as a shallow attempt to remove the inherent threat of a space faring Terra. To the psychosis of the Galactic neighborhood the word "Federation" was nothing more than a slipcover over a sword, a tuxedo over the armor of a barbarian raider. That was their view of the Terran Empire and nothing anyone said could change their mind.

If the Galactics were steadfast in their views on the Terran Empire, they were as adamant as the core of a dead star who was at the head of that empire. It could be no one but Alexander. The speeches of the Senators and politicians that profligate through Terran broadcasts were entirely transparent. The Galactics knew better. They had already watched Alexander conquer the former Scythian Empire and make peace with the Chem. They knew him, and at once feared and admired him. The Human they had come to know through Galactic broadcasts, the Human at the helm of the mighty Terran fleet; certainly he could be no less than the Overlord of the Terran Empire. Any other conclusion was so at odds with their perceived reality that no attention was paid it. Although there was an immediate request for dialogue from the Terrans with their new neighbors, without the voice of Alexander behind the requests they were summarily ignored.

Alexander absorbed it all. The Terran situation became as interesting to observe as did the Chem or the Galactics. The Galactic game, as Alexander called it, was entering an extraordinarily volatile phase; and he could not help but smile to himself. Instinctively, and against his better judgment, Alexander placed himself in a unique position to affect it all. It worried him somewhat that he enjoyed the opportunity of the time, and he tried to convince himself that power and glory had nothing to do with the kernel of excitement that grew daily in his belly. Yet finally he was forced to admit that there was nothing for it; these opportunities did not come along but once in a thousand years. If Alexander did not take hold of events and guide them, someone else would. That, beyond any other reasoning convinced Alexander his time had come. He trusted his own motives far more than even Nazeera’s. Although Alexander was biased towards Humankind he also feared them equally as much as the Galactics. Their paranoia was, unfortunately, founded in fact. Therefore, Alexander’s view of the new Galactic neighborhood, with the addition of Humankind, was somewhat different than could be expected. He did not want Human domination, as the Galactics feared, and he realized the impossibility of the continuation of the status quo with volatile Humankind in the mix. A balance needed to be struck between Human exuberance and Galactic maturity. That promise, beyond the glory of battles won and star systems tallied, grew in Alexander’s mind. It became his central purpose in a slowly coalescing ideal for the future he saw nestled in his hands.

Nazeera’s warning of a Galactic "Alliance" induced a great deal of thought. What would the Galactics do? Alexander had no doubt that some form of military alliance would form but would it be defensive or aggressive in nature? The Galactics would react in fear because the terrible legend of Alexander would now be a reality. Considering the vaunted Chem were at first outmaneuvered and now diminished by civil war, the Galactics might consider offensive actions a necessity—if they were smart. However, the process would accelerate dramatically because of the political wrangling now taking place on Terra; specifically, the Terran coup, shortly to be officially announced with the election of an executive. Alexander realized that events turned on what the observers perceived, and not on reality. To the civilized cultures of the galaxy Alexander was the military Overlord of the Terran Empire; the supreme monarch of an aggressive expansionist culture. The announcement of a legislative body in the Terran Federation would do no more than raise eyebrows. Of course a dictator like Alexander would create a body to rubber stamp his decisions, if only to please the masses! Even the announcement of a President or Prime Minister of the Terran Federation would cause no undue excitement, unless that chief executive was someone other than Alexander.

Every culture, he was certain, knew his whereabouts, and they asked the same question as Nazeera. Why was he absent from his empire? The true answer, that he had no empire, would never occur to them and they would never believe it. Nor would they believe that a conqueror would allow another person, even a figurehead, to be named above them in the empire they built. There would be only one logical conclusion in the galaxy, and it would be a sensation: a coup. Alexander would be deposed and a weak executive set up in his place. Instead of a dominating conqueror to fear the galaxy would have a placating bureaucrat. The fledgling Terran Empire would be ripe for the picking.

That would be his opportunity. The executive could not hope to deal with such a situation, but he could. He had a rapport with the military, and their respect. Let the Terran government call him back and give him the fleet and he’d bloody the Galactic’s nose! Then they’d let the Terrans into the fold of the Galactic neighborhood. Humankind could then grow without the need of an Alexander. His role would change from one of conqueror to explorer. With Humankind secure he could do what he’d always wanted, what he always felt Humankind should strive for: explore the galaxy. The surest way of growth as a species, he thought, was for Humankind to explore the cosmos. It kept them occupied with something constructive. Alexander saw his race as beings in adolescence. They were not yet old enough, or mature enough, as a species to avoid self destructive behavior. They needed room, new things to fill their fledgling minds, and new endeavors to absorb their unending supply of energy. Earth was a dangerous place for such a species, locked up on a small planet with only themselves for company. It was like isolating a group of teenagers in a room for a year. The end result would be obvious.

That was the need, as far as Alexander saw it. He wanted to get the Terran Empire settled and secure. When Terra was a respected member of the Galactic community Alexander could leave it be. He didn’t see himself as the dictator the galaxy perceived, at least not for any length of time. The masses should be the source of power, and one person could not speak for all in times of peace. At this particular moment, however, he saw the need for a single person to wield the sword for his species and then give them a shove in the right direction. Where the ship of Humankind drifted after that, he told himself, was not his concern.

#

Nazeera spent the next four decurns coordinating her plans for attacking Bureel’s rebel forces. That fully half of Bureel’s warships flew virtually side by side with her armada was a tempting irony. If only she could fight this force of rebels and defeat them she could then face the Guardian Armada already in the Chem system at even odds. The only way to accomplish this, however, would be to somehow force Bureel to drop his Armada out of superluminal and face her; a scenario her snake of a husband had no intention of satisfying her with. Galactic warships were unable to engage in combat at superluminal velocities. The superluminal fields which made interstellar flight possible were delicate beyond reckoning, and carefully balanced. If a ship were to fire any of its blaster projectors, even at the lowest of levels, the direct result would be an immediate superluminal field imbalance followed closely by the collapse of the field. Such a collapse invariably dropped the ship out of superluminal, often out of control. The violence of such an uncontrolled drop would overload the ships gravitic inertial dampeners and invariably cause severe damage. Despite the maturity of their technology the Galactics had no answer to his dilemma. Their modes of interstellar warfare were therefore predicated around this limitation, leaving it unsolved and unexplored. Rising out of the constriction were thousands of years of tradition and courtesy as to how these things ought to be done. The Chem, as did their neighbors in the Galactic community, thought nothing of altering these rules of engagement. The subject had been addressed by their ancestors, protocols were established and that was the end of it. Therefore, no battle occurred. Despite Nazeera’s challenges, despite her accusations of cowardice, Bureel stayed in superluminal; safe and confident of his cause. Nazeera could only wait with the knowledge that when she finally saw her Homeworld again she would be outnumbered two-to-one.

During one of their solitary walks on the hanger deck Alexander questioned Nazeera concerning the Chem perception of Bureel, and his constant refusal of battle. Alexander was in a quandary as to how her people, who kept the concept of honor so close to their breast, could tolerate such blatant disregard of a challenge.

Nazeera bit her lip, but her eyes brightened at Alexander’s inquiry. “You’re becoming quite the student of culture aren’t you?” she stated. Then she answered his question, saying, “There is a fine line between a legal and acceptable challenge, and a challenge issued in desperation. Without that distinction the entire concept of honor would be transformed into an endless free-for-all for power. The military situation is correctly understood by both sides, and though my proposition is sincere, it alters the balance of things. As long as Bureel meets me in battle eventually he will bear no slight to his worm’s honor. That he refuses battle at this moment is pure practicality. Even the Chem sacrifice the timing of honor to the practicality of existence.”

“What of my challenge to Bureel? Does the Chem civil war erase that?”

“Absolutely not! You are a head of state, Alexander,” Nazeera insisted vehemently, “and considering the circumstances your challenge must be answered by Bureel, lest all of Chem is answerable. The timing, however, again, is flexible. The battle for the Chem Homeworld will not be delayed for the answer of a challenge, even yours. Therefore, if I succeed and Bureel survives the battle your challenge shall be answered as a matter of course. If I fail, then your challenge is my final hope.”