Parasitic, stinky, and looking like something from the ancient drama Little Shop of Horrors, H. Africana is reminiscent of the dreadful relatives from my mother’s side of the family. It possesses no photosynthetic method, and thus relies entirely on attaching itself to the roots of Euphorbia species. It attracts its natural pollinators, dung beetles, by producing a pungent aroma of feces. Why this disagreeable opportunist was included in the genetic banks is anybody’s guess.
Illustration from Julius Sachs, Vorlesungen über Pflanzenphysiologie, Zweite Auflage, 1887.
Tara sent a message to Eirelantra, calling for a meeting with Archbishop Venesti, Ta’al Erich and Battlequeen Escharton. Within half an hour, they had assembled in the High Council Chambers; Tara had positioned her datapad on the table in the anteroom so that everyone could see the holographic projection. We were joined by Sir Kaman, whom she had asked to come to our suite.
“I suppose you’ve heard about the battle fleet heading our way,” she began.
“Indeed,” said Ta’al Erich. I’m surprised that you haven’t dispatched Admiral Naveeta to deal with it.”
“It’s a very delicate matter. The Archon is going to handle it personally.”
In fact, what Briscoe had said is “We have to scare the living compost out of them, and I know just how to do it. Unfortunately, I’m not the man to handle it.”
“You’ve also, no doubt, heard of the domestic problems here on Dolparessa,” she continued. “Besides the obvious issues, there are all sorts of political machinations going on. I’ve decided that the best way to handle it is through a reorganization of the government.”
“In the middle of a war?” asked the battlequeen.
“There isn’t going to be a war,” said Tara. “But I need to put certain factions in their places. That’s why I’ve decided to formulate a privy council as a subset of the High Council. It will consist of Archbishop Venesti and the High Prophetess to represent spiritual matters, the Grand Vizier, the Mistress of the Bedchamber, and the Tree Surgeon General, along with some new offices – Lord Chamberlain, Secretary of the Interior and Secretary of Defense. I’m appointing Ta’al Erich to the long-vacant position of Grand Vizier, Lord Danak as Lord Chamberlain, Battlequeen Escharton as Secretary of Defense and Lady Claris as Secretary of the Interior. All the major ethnicities are represented; in addition, Sir Kaman will serve as the voice of the common man. I think that will send a strong message.”
“Hmmm,” said Ta’al Erich. “That’s all your friends and allies. It certainly will send a message.”
“The message is ‘Go fuck yourself,’” said Elma. “I don’t need to be a prophetess to see that.”
“I’m going to assign the new Grand Vizier and Secretary of Defense to handle diplomatic relations with the Alliance of Mankind.”
“They look like they’re going to conduct negotiations at the opposite end of a gun site,” said Escharton.
“You must trust in the Archon, my daughter,” said Archbishop Venesti.
“You do realize,” said Escharton, “that I inherited this title, and I’ve never been in an actual battle in my life?”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Tara. “All the real matters of defense will be handled by Admiral Whelan, but I thought that having Ash holding all the offices of state would look kind of redundant.”
“To maintain the illusion that we aren’t an absolute dictatorship,” said Erich.
“I don’t know,” said Venesti. “Perhaps God should be an absolute dictator. It’s reassuring.”
“I don’t think Sara Howe-Dumfaller will see it that way,” said Lord Danak.
“Does that mean everyone has to call me Madame Secretary now?” asked Claris.
“Exactly how many official positions does Ashtara hold?” asked Elma. “I lost track.”
“Well, the four archons, obviously, and Cillian – then we have Mickey as Director of SSOps, Evan as the Court Bard, Sloane Lord Redmond as Master of Horse, Sir James as Imperial Gardener, and Driscoll as Ipsissimal Portraiturist.”
“Don’t forget Archbishop Seth,” said Venesti.
“Or Suibhne,” said Briscoe. “Suibhne is an archon.”
“You should give them all titles,” said Lady Lorma. “Right now, they’re all Prince Consorts, which sounds quite harem-y. Besides, I always think of Patrick as the Prince Consort.”
“Why are we not feeling the stress caused by the presence of an imminent attack fleet?” asked the Grand Vizier Ta’al Erich.
“Because either they listen to reason, or Ash cripples their ships. We’re not in any danger – they are. But the trick is to get them to see that.”
*****
When the Alliance’s fleet emerged from the wormhole, they were greeted with this message: “This is Ta’al Erich, Grand Vizier of the Skarsian Matriarchy. On behalf of the Archon and the Matriarch, I wish to welcome your diplomatic envoy to the Domha’vei. Your fleet shall remain in orbit outside the Domha’vei system while your flagship proceeds to Eirelantra, where I and the Secretary of Defense will meet with your ambassador. Please signal that you have understood and will comply.”
“Absolutely,” said the communications officer. “We will comply.”
“What?” snapped the fleet’s admiral. “I didn’t give that order.”
“Of course you didn’t give that order,” said the lieutenant, “I did.”
“Lieutenant, you’ll face discipline later. For now…”
But before the admiral could become completely apoplectic, he felt a shove inside of his mind, and suddenly he was saying, “I gave the order, because, as Living God of the Domha’vei, what I say goes.” Suddenly, the admiral plopped back in his chair like a limp puppet, and the helm officer stood. “I really don’t think you’ve studied the history of our engagements with CenGov. If you had, you’d realize that they lost to us twice, battles which ultimately weakened them and led to their collapse.”
The weaponry officer chimed in: “I could, of course, destroy your fleet by using our defense grid, or incapacitate it by using alchemy. But that would have unpleasant consequences beyond this engagement.”
“I’m far more than you can handle,” said the second in command. “And I’m nothing compared to the SongLuminants.”
From behind the admiral, a security guard spoke, “If they decide you’re hostile, they’ll erase your entire civilization. And they’ll do it like this.”
“Initiate self-destruct,” said the admiral. “Code 997e-pjj889-4743.”
“Self-destruct order seconded,” said the communications officer, “77tw45.”
“Retinal scans confirmed,” the ship’s system reported. “Auto destruct in ten minutes.”
“Admiral, rescind the order!” shouted the second in command. But the admiral flailed and gasped, quite unable to talk. Lucius could’ve completely immobilized him, but it was more dramatic to watch him panic.
Three minutes was deemed an appropriate time before the admiral was released and allowed to make the order rescinding the self-destruct. Then the second in command said, “The SongLuminants could command everyone on all your worlds to commit suicide. It would take a matter of minutes. And just like you were a moment ago, those people would be completely conscious that their bodies were being used, and completely unable to stop it. I trust you’ll have a pleasant meeting with the Vizier.”
*****
“They’re doing nothing,” said Zosim, “just holding orbit.”
“They’re probably having a panicked conversation with their masters back home,” said Danak. “Right about now, those rulers are suggesting that they use the ambassadors as hostages, and the admiral is trying to convince them that it’s not a good idea.”
“If they fillet that Floatfish, it’s over,” said Tara. “If they attack here, we could try to intercede – basically by showing it to be a joke unworthy of our notice. It might work. But the murder of an ambassador will force the Combine to take action.” Tara sat next to Lucius, who had collapsed onto the couch. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“Exhausted,” he said quietly. “Jumping from person to person like that…and I wasn’t even sure the auto-destruct thing would work. It’s funny – I could force them to give the code without my knowing what the code was.”
“That is interesting,” said Lord Danak. “That means your powers could be used for interrogation.”
“The SongLuminants are capable of actual mind-scans, but that’s far beyond me. I could barely manage that little trick. I needed to hold the admiral long enough to scare the hell out of them, but not so long that they realized I could only possess one of them at a time.”
“It was an excellent suggestion,” said Ta’al Erich. “And one for their benefit. It really would’ve been much easier to turn their drive coolant into corn syrup.”
“Cruel,” said Elma, “destroying the fleet by inducing type II diabetes in their ships.”
“The drives would’ve malfunctioned first,” said Zosim.
“Does that officer really possess the requisite tolerance of absurdity necessary for admission into the Archon’s inner circle?” Erich asked.
“Just got notification,” said Escharton. “The flagship is sending a docking request to Eirelantra.”
“One crisis averted,” said Tara. “On to the next.”
*****
It may have seemed an easy victory, but it did have its costs. For one, Lucius really was exhausted, too tired to change emanations. That meant Briscoe’s plan to track down Mauve was on hold again. Lucius felt physically ill, but he didn’t want to let Tara know just how much of a strain it had been. She left him soaking in a hot bath of RootRiot while she accompanied the Cantor, Elma and Claris to sup in the small guest dining hall. The hall was two floors below the Ipsissimal Suite, so it was fairly easy for Lucius to eavesdrop on the conversation.
“This isn’t over,” Tara said. “We forced them to stand down, and that’s a bitter pill to swallow. We’re still dealing with malcontents on Tasea.”
“You have the same problem here on Dolparessa,” said the Cantor. “People are upset. They aren’t going to like the idea of helping the Cu’ensali.”
“But if we don’t help them, it will be even worse. I think we’ve got to arrest Puce. Get him and make an example of him.” She poked distractedly at her fettuccine. “I still can’t stand his name. We sound ridiculous when we say that we’re hot on the trail of the dangerous terrorist, Puce.”
“Call him something else,” said Claris. “Rename him…the Pink Plague?”
“That’s even dumber,” said Tara. “Of course, if you make it sound too glamorous, it only encourages copycats.”
“Torch of the Forest?” suggested Claris.
“Sounds like a children’s adventure novel,” riposted Elma.
“This is why I prefer living in the woodland,” said the Cantor. “It’s quiet there. Nobody talking just to fill up the silence.”
But the dinner was about to become even less quiet; Clive Rivers arrived, and he was not a happy man. “I heard that you’ve been negotiating with the Alliance of Mankind,” he said, sitting at the table. “You do realize that they have allied themselves with CenGov, our sworn enemy, and you have allied yourself with Earth? The enemy of my friend is my enemy, correct? And worse, you didn’t even inform me yourself. I take that as a personal snub.”
“We were trying to keep the Alliance from being erased by the SongLuminants.”
“Why? Why would you do that? If the SongLuminants take care of them for us…”
“Because if Frangfrang is wiped out, the Floatfish will have nothing for breakfast.” Tara handed him the bottle of wine. “Have a drink and calm the fuck down.”
“Yes,” said Elma, “the importance of crunchy carbohydrates to a properly functioning intergalactic government cannot be underestimated.”
“Is she Gyring again?”
“And this is a surprise to you? When am I not Gyring?”
“She’s able to speak in coherent sentences, Clive. Also, she’s a holy woman, so give it a rest.”
“As a Terran, he’s never understood our customs,” Claris sniffed.
“I’ll never understand what I saw in you,” said Rivers, and then, turning to Tara, “either of you.”
Lord Danak appeared at the doorway. “More trouble,” he said.
“Excuse me,” said Elma. “This was a ladies-only engagement. If we had wanted men, we’d have asked them.”
“When have you ever wanted men?” asked Claris.
“Do I look like I want to hear about more trouble?” asked Tara.
“There’s been a clash between two groups of protestors at the front of the Ipsissimal Park. A group holding a candlelight vigil to pray for peace between the trees was attacked by a pro-Cu’enashti group. The first group feels that destroying nau’gsh – any nau’gsh – is sacrilege. The second believes that the prosperity and potential for immortality of humans on this world depends on the Cu’enashti, and if the Cu’ensali are a threat to them, we need to burn all the Cu’ensali trees immediately.”
“It seems like no matter what we do, it only gets worse,” said Tara.
“We should enjoy our dinner,” said Elma. “Ashtara will figure something out. He always does.”
“That’s just great,” snapped Claris. “Let’s all become helpless children.”
“Claris has a point,” said Rivers. “What if Ashhole wasn’t around? Do you even have a plan?”
“I expect that the defense, economy and culture of the Domha’vei would collapse,” said Lord Danak.
“Since my life is bound to his, I probably wouldn’t live to see it,” said Tara. “So there’s really no point in my worrying.”
“That’s not okay,” said Claris. “It’s really not okay. We lived without him for almost a millennium. We have to be prepared to survive without him.”
“I don’t see the point in speculating about that now,” said Lord Danak. “There are problems much closer to hand.”
“Yes,” said Tara, “and we’d better think of something. I have a gut feeling that this isn’t something Ash is going to handle well.”
*****
Tara was right. Even as Lucius was listening, the situation was being debated internally.
« I agree with Ailann, » said Briscoe. « We need to deal with this as soon as possible, then get back to the business of establishing colonies. We can start with the Circinus galaxy – it’s wide open. »
« This is not an easy thing to deal with, » said Dermot. « First, we have to sort the Cu’ensali from the juvenile nau’gsh, then we have to ascertain which Cu’ensali want to leave…»
« I really don’t know why we’ve rejected the ‘burn them all’ solution, » said Ari. « We can’t trust them, and after what they did, it’s justified. »
« In the short run, it’s the most efficient plan, » said Cillian, « but it’ll cause long-term complications. Not the least of which would be internal ramifications. »
He glanced at me, and I could see in his eyes that he knew I’d never forgive myself if that happened. He really was trying to protect me. He really did love me.
I felt strangely elated. I’d never though that anything other than Tara could make me happy.
« Are you worried about losing the young trees? » asked Balin. « This is where Mac’kellr was right. Just replant with family groves. »
« Statistically, family groves are more likely to produce Cu’enmerengi or Cu’enashti, » said Cüinn.
« We can’t murder trees, » said Lugh. « I’m against killing any of them for any reason. Let the Cu’ensali find another way home. »
« We don’t have the slightest idea how to separate the nul-being from the nau’gsh, » said Dermot. « The only way is to eliminate the tree. »
« I wouldn’t even know where to start investigating that, » agreed Cüinn.
« I wish as many of you were worried about our kind – proto-Cu’enashti trapped in the nul-universe – as you are worried about the Cu’ensali stuck here, » said Briscoe.
« That thought has never left my mind, » I replied. « But if we lose our compassion for the trees, we lose something vital. »
« If we can’t solve this soon, we should go ahead with a new colony anyway, » said Briscoe.
« We can’t afford that right now, » Ross said. « The Domha’vei has put considerable investment into the colony at Shambhala, and while it’s going quite well, it will still be a while before they can completely sustain themselves and we see a return on the investment. »
« We’d need another tree, » said Malachi. « Tara won’t agree to that. »
« There are practical considerations, » I admitted. « But we have to be thinking ahead. Our long-term strategy is to put groves wherever we can easily tap into the nul-universe. »
« Ailann, there’s too much we don’t know, » said Cüinn. « Do you remember the Combine negotiating about wormhole usage? Too many wormholes undermine the fabric of spacetime. Now those are just temporary wormholes with paths that cut across all varieties of universes. We’re talking about stable wormholes connecting two universes. Too many connections might cause those universes to collapse into each other. »
« What’s too many? » asked Briscoe.
« Twenty? Two hundred thousand? » said Owen. « We have absolutely no data. »
« It’s the sort of thing covered by that quote from William Blake, » said Dermot: « “You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.” »
« So you want us to poke holes until the boat starts to sink? » asked Barnabas.
« Would you rather do nothing? » Briscoe shot back.
« Why are you so fired up about this? » asked Cillian. « You just got here. »
« Because my branch grew while we were in darkness, » said Briscoe. « Because I was born from the horror of isolation. »
« We’ve had so many voluntary expansions that we forgot what it was like to grow a branch in response to a trauma, » said Tarlach. « Cut him some slack. Also, Briscoe, I’d suggest therapy. »
« You suggest therapy for everything, » said Cillian.
« A carpenter will always solve his problems with a hammer, » said Tommy. « Me, I’d rather have a cocktail. »
« Can we please focus? » said Mickey. « Let’s debate the colonial project later. »
« I was looking for Mauve, » said Briscoe. « I was interrupted. »
« We should get back to that as soon as Lucius is strong enough to swap emanations, » said Cillian.
« Don’t be too hasty, » said Constantine. « Confronting an unknown enemy while we’re still worn out is hardly a good idea. We’ve been captured twice already. »
“I can’t even move,” said Lucius. “I thought it would be a lot easier – the targets were so much closer than when I was using Suzanna’s body at Sealeesh. But I didn’t anticipate how much effort it would take to keep readjusting to new bodies and minds, especially ones that were actively trying to resist me.”
He closed his eyes, focusing again on Tara’s conversation. “If there were a way to insure that the Cu’ensali, once dispatched, would never return to this universe, Puce might decide that doomsday isn’t necessary, right?” asked Tara.
“It seems logical,” said Lord Danak. “But you shouldn’t put too much faith in extremists to be logical.”
“Maybe Ash could engineer some kind of a filter. A root condom. Maybe by using mycorrhizae.”
“Wait,” said Claris. “Mycorrhizae. That’s mushrooms, right? You want us to grow mushrooms? Ew.”
“Not you. Just for juvenile Cu’endhari.”
“You want our children to grow mushrooms,” said the Cantor. “I share Claris’ disgust.”
« That’s brilliant, » said Cüinn. « Why didn’t we think of that? »
« We’d need to figure out an isolating factor for the Cu’ensali, » said Malachi. « If we could do that, I could design some mushrooms. »
« It’s…» Davy began.
« If you say it’s obvious, I’m going to deck you, » said Cillian.
« Just open your frickin’ eyes, » said Davy. « You can’t see the forest for the trees. »
« Size, » said Solomon. « Cu’ensali are small. »
« That’s a difficult design, » said Owen. « We’d be trying to keep the small things out, but membranes are more permeable to small molecules. »
“What is it with you people and mushrooms?” said Tara. “I like mushrooms. They provide tasty and occasionally psychedelic foodstuffs. And they’re cute.”
“What is it with you people and foot fungus?” asked Claris. “What is it with you people and vaginal yeast?”
“That’s uncomfortable,” Tara retorted. “Ash has never mentioned that his mycorrhizae are uncomfortable.”
“How could something growing on your roots not be uncomfortable?” asked Claris. “The thought makes my skin crawl.”
« I guess it is a little itchy, » Davy admitted, « although it was so much better than the caustic properties of trans-universal soil that we barely noticed. »
« Plus we were too busy getting off on the psychoactives, » said Chase. « We’re used to it now. »
« It’s going to be a hard sell, » said Ross. « We need to think of something more marketable. »
« But we’re on the right track, » said Barnabas. « If we keep at it, we’re sure to find a solution. »