CHAPTER 24

The morning of the Ascension was a study of nervous calm not only for the principles involved but for the galaxy as a whole. A galaxy wide war rested on the results of the day; results which could be forecast no better than the weather. Nazeera, Nazar and Alexander were housed in the amphitheater and the throng which gathered every day to hear them speak and to debate with them kept a watchful vigil. Nazeera’s decision to rely on the tradition of the Plebiscite was well founded. The art of the orator suited her, as it did Alexander, and the drama by which they came turned the tradition into a spectacle. Although never ignored by the people, Nazeera’s stature in exile rose to tremendous heights despite the best efforts of Bureel’s emissaries. The people of Chem had never been thus openly addressed by their leaders and her personal appeal fired their ardor. They made a pilgrimage to the amphitheater to hear her speak and to debate with her. Her strength allowed her to take questions from the common Chem and speak of such lofty subjects as policy without diminishing her nobility or their regard. She held them by the millions and millions whether it was there in the amphitheater or on the Galactic networks. The entire civilized galaxy was there to watch the Chem struggle for power, and though Bureel tried once to censure the coverage he was completely unprepared for the hue and cry which followed. After a quiet upbraiding from his supporters for in any way tampering with the intent of the Plebiscite the blackout was quietly lifted.

Yet as enthralled as the Chem were with this debate over the course of their empire it was Alexander who provided the extra draw which elevated this from a simple political event into a happening. Nazeera realized this, and she used it well. Alexander was thrust to the forefront whenever possible, and he took the reins, if not with pleasure, with fervor. Alexander, being Human, was not at all ignorant of the power of the masses. He thought of it, in a detached view, as a play within which he had the opportunity to manipulate the emotions of the audience, as Anthony had at the death of Caesar. The certitude that his views were genuine made his appeals all the more effective, but it was when Alexander walked amongst the citizens in the amphitheater and talked with them, one-on-one, that he gained his following and raised the level of the crowds expectations. He could go nowhere, excepting to sleep, without the familiar whirring of the probe, actually a number of them. They followed him through the throngs of people, watching, listening, occasionally asking or relaying a commentator's questions. Alexander used the Plebiscite as a politician would a political convention. By the end of the week every Chem, indeed, every citizen in the known galaxy knew Alexander’s views and aspirations as completely as they knew of his adventures on Pantrixnia. They’d known of him from the snippets of Galactic events since, but this was an in depth exploration of his character, and he captivated them equally. He was blunt and forward. He readily addressed the possibility of his own execution on the day of the Ascension, and he met it as if it were a line in a play, a subject addressed with the full knowledge that another ending would actually take place. There was passion in his voice when he talked of Bureel and the challenge, a passion which Bureel could not answer in his taped rebuttals. Alexander put forward, in many different ways, the gulf which lay between his own opinion of the Chem, and the actions of Bureel. He had a genuine liking for the people, their philosophy, their society as a whole, but he could not justify his own position with regards to his challenge of Bureel, or of Bureel’s rebellion against Nazeera and the Elder of Chem. In his mind he was acting much more the Chem than was his adversary.

“Have I done any less than walk away from my empire to fulfill an honor bound challenge? I have made the effort in this affair, beyond what the modern visions of honor require. Can the proposed ruler of the noble Chem do any less? Can it be that a Chem, who might ascend to the most honored seat in all of Chem, could have his honor measured by practicality, or shielded by a title? I cannot believe that to be so. Having known your Nazeera, and spoken with so many of you, my opinion is far too fixed to believe that any Chem could stoop so low for the sake of power alone. I could not believe it possible that one who gained such honor of representation would do so. I could not believe the Chem would allow such a thing.” The words had a telling, and predictable, effect. The Chem masses were proud of their heritage. It was easy for them to sway to the side which demanded honor through blood, and with valid cause. Any argument against such a challenge could not be seen in a favorable light. Bureel knew that full well, and so he kept silent on the matter. By the morning of the Ascension there was a heady anticipation that the leaders of their respective empires would meet for a face-to-face challenge. Alexander had so made his case, by being truthful in every matter, that the challenge was more than anticipated; in the minds of the masses it was required. His love for Nazeera, which was the subject of much discussion, and its place in the entire affair could be forgiven. The Chem had the same sense of romance and fantasy as Humans, so it was not a very great dilution of Alexander’s cause. Moreover it was a flaw that Bureel could not exploit because of his own manipulative use of Nazeera. A challenge at the moment of betrayal would have been appropriate, but Bureel had instead chosen to use the knowledge against his wife. This refusal at the justifiable revenge of a disappointed spouse forfeited all right of Bureel to use the occasion. To thus make it public would be to expose himself to additional derision. Imagine, blackmailing Nazeera for his own gain rather than blotting out the seeming dishonor in blood! To the Chem, such behavior in a person of rank would be unforgivable. So Bureel left that subject untouched and the populace assumed a love had grown between their Nazeera and Alexander after her estrangement, which was perfectly acceptable. Neither Nazeera nor Alexander alluded to it openly, but the media was quick to conjecture on their hints and mannerisms. The Chem’s impression of Alexander was thus heightened from admiration and respect to a level of affection. The concept of war with the Terrans, who seemed so compatible in the example of Alexander, was as unwanted as his execution.

When Nazeera, Nazar and Alexander made their way out of the Plebiscite that morning they did so with an escort of nearly a million Chem. The act of arresting the three, on Bureel’s orders, therefore turned out to be a more polite affair than the indignity which Bureel envisioned. The constables merely contented themselves with falling in step and joining the three on their march to the Assemblage. At the hall Bureel and the entire Assemblage waited on them. They had no choice. The Ascension could not take place until precisely noon. Aside from that all of Bureel’s efforts at disinformation and propaganda had failed miserably. It was not that the Chem were any worse liars, at need, than other cultures, as politics breeds that talent; it was simply that the story of Alexander and Nazeera was too delicious to pass up. The media was in a frenzy to feed the masses what they wanted, and all attempts at censure and control were ingeniously worked around. It was almost a festive occasion as they walked through the streets, but the atmosphere changed on entering the Assemblage.

They walked up the marble steps under a bright sun and blue sky, with the adulation of the crowds. When the doors of the Assemblage closed behind them, however, there was a sudden, still, silence; only a few dim lights illumined the hall. The lights were not bright enough to dim the hostile glow of the multitude of Chem eyes. The Chem formed ranks on either side with Bureel waiting beneath the throne of the Elder. Gurthur held the mace of the Elder, the ruddy gold looked as if it had been dipped in blood. Next to the Gurthur stood another Chem, swathed in black with a hood over his head. In his hands was an axe. At his feet was a block.

“Welcome, welcome!” Bureel laughed, “So you’ve enjoyed your slight foray with the masses have you? My lovely wife, how good to see you once again! I see your estimable brother is still by your side. Welcome Nazar, how I’ve missed our pleasant conversations. And you Alexander of Terra, I certainly welcome you! Why it was from your own memory that I revived this quaint custom of the axe and block you see before you. You departed life once before via this method, how fitting that you should do so again! Oh, but do not worry my noble Nazeera and Nazar, you are Chem after all, and thus we must use a Chem method for you. A visit to Pantrixnia will provide you with and honorable end!”

“Bureel you would not dare,” Nazeera started, but Bureel cut her off.

“Oh, you can stop fuming my dear; your beloved masses cannot hear you now. The Ascension shall be public, for who should wish to shut out that glorious ceremony. There is no need to telecast the mundane details of government, however, such as sentencing and execution! Now, as I am certain you have each had your fill of talking these last decurns let us proceed without further interruption!” The guards seized them, or tried to. Alexander overpowered the first two Chem that grappled him, but a stun rod stabbed into his abdomen shocked him into submission. The guards disarmed him, and though he remained quite conscious, and the feeling was returning to his limbs, he couldn’t resist the Chem hauling him to the block. The guards forced him onto his knees and then strong hands pushed his head on the block.

The wood was cold and rough under his cheek, but it was the deathly chill of the sharp blade on the back of his neck that triggered a wave of repressed memories. Alexander felt the fear, the helplessness and the anger at himself for being the author of the situation. “What an arrogant fool I am; like a fool I trusted in the honor of a villain! A fool you were Alexander and a fool you remain!”

Almost as a cool breeze on a summer day another feeling came upon him; the same feeling that accompanied him to the block five centuries past—faith. Whatever Bureel took from him today, his faith was unshakeable. Alexander relaxed, ready to meet his death on the Galactic ethernet with just as much calm as he did on Pantrixnia. “At least Augesburcke knows of the treachery of the Galactic spies. There will be blood to pay—” but then a wave of doubt hit him. Alexander knew he had the answers to this cosmic chess match—or he thought he did. “I didn’t have the answer for this, did I? I was too smart for my own good. Now it’s cost me my life; I pray to God that it doesn’t cost us our civilization.”