“That we do,” said Aleesha, and all of them were laughing as we left the room.
Eight
“I owe you an apology.”
David Tollin had turned up with some of the group who’d been there when I’d met the fungus. Most of those who’d fought during the afternoon were now in the main food court of the station, and the locals had gone all out to host a celebration. It was too good an opportunity for the Imperium to miss sending some diplomats and Trixone experts to get a better understanding of our enemy.
Tollin himself had taken me aside when I finished eating what I’d been assured was not dinosaur steak. They couldn’t do fries worth a damn, but the locals did have some interesting vegetable combinations to go with really good steak. I hadn't been game to ask what the steak was from.
Most of the food on display was fit for us to eat, but there were some exceptions, and medical monitors went primary and issued a warning every time I looked at one of them. Presumably our PCs were using the suit sensors to test everything as we got near it. I had no doubt if we tried to eat any of the bad stuff, our suits would have prevented it, which wasn’t something we really wanted to demonstrate to the locals.
Finding a spot to talk hadn’t been easy, so we’d walked back to the nearest assault frigate, and used the conference room behind the bridge.
“Not really,” I told him.
“Yes really. I was totally wrong, you were completely right, and the consequences of me getting my way are terrifying.”
He was talking about telepathic fungus taking over the Imperium to rule the galaxy.
“I learnt some good lessons as well. And we all went there to make an ally. It’s no-one’s fault the way it all happened.”
“I should have known better.”
“Why?”
He looked at me with surprise on his face. Then he sighed.
“My position dictates I should be more open about possibilities.”
“What exactly is your position?”
More surprise. I guess he hadn’t come across someone like me in a long time, who had very little real political understanding of what the Imperium was. I mean, group of societies come together for mutual protection, was about as far as I knew.
“I’ve two positions. Head of the Haven council, which admittedly is for such a small nation, it’s actually smaller than yours. And head of the Imperium council, which takes up most of my time.”
He sighed again.
“I lost sight of reality the other day, and took it out on you. So I’m sorry.”
“No-one saw it coming. And at least you never issued orders which made things worse.”
“True. But I could have listened when you were trying to stop us making a huge mistake.”
“Why didn’t you? No, don’t answer that. Not my business. Politics is not my thing, and I probably wouldn’t understand it anyway.”
“It wasn’t politics. Truth to tell, I’m just horribly tired. The Imperium has been growing rapidly, but with mainly new societies without any serious ability to help expand our military in the short term. We’re getting plenty of recruits, but we need ship building facilities much more, and no-one but the Keerah and Ralnor can build anything bigger than a battleship. I was hoping the fungus was finally a society which could supply us with new dreadnaughts.”
“Not a bad aim. But why are you so tired? The Imperium isn’t that old. Or were you already that way before the Imperium formed?”
“You mean a career politician?” I nodded. “No. Two years ago I was just an administrator, working for the Hunter family. Then Jon had me running administration for his duchy when it formed, and then I was elected to the Haven council after he refused to be our king. When the Imperium formed, because Jon refused to be an emperor, I found myself head of that as well. If someone had told me three years ago I’d be running a political entity made up of alien societies with billions of member beings, I’d have laughed my arse off at them, and then made them an appointment with a shrink.” He paused. “Maybe it’s me who needs one.”
I laughed.
“We probably all will, if this war goes on long enough.”
“Well, anyway, I think I reached the level of my own incompetence the other day when I told you off. Jon won’t let me stand down though, pointing out I really just need a holiday. He’s probably right. I’m going to start tomorrow, with a visit to the planet Arthur was protecting. You and your team are welcome to join me, and before you ask, I got approval for you. Nine sharp on your ship, and we’ll dock with the station now in orbit. There’s a rift we want you to do, and then after, we get all morning to enjoy the planet. They tell me it’s a natural wilderness. I’m thinking of just finding some grass where I won’t get sunburn, and just lie there for a few hours.”
The thought did seem to be cheering him up.
“Maybe not,” he went on. “Once we get the rift done, and have it okayed by the locals, my wife and kids will follow us, and no doubt keep me upright. I gather it’s going to be a family day for some of us.”
“We’ll try to keep our distance then.”
“Why? You don’t consider your team ‘kid friendly’?”
“Actually, I’ve no idea if they are or not.” I paused this time. “Actually, maybe they are. Metunga took a young girl for a run around my island not long ago. He’s probably the most frightening of us, but Jill keeps calling him a pussycat, so we should be fine.”
“Tell me something. Your people don’t appear to have a representative on the council at the moment. Is there any reason for that?”
I shook my head, sadly.
“I’m out of touch. Last I heard the mayor of our main city was going to head up a new government of sorts, but he wasn’t enthusiastic about it. Truth to tell, we’ve never needed or wanted the sort of government the rest of the Imperium members have. Thorn provided us with everything we needed, and most of that is still being provided. So we never needed politicians, and probably no-one wants to be one.”
“Do you have any decent administrators?”
“I wouldn’t know that either. I was focused on getting off planet, not serving at home. My dad might know, as he does that sort of thing, but if you want to find out, you best go through the mayor’s office.”
“What about mages? Any of them worth elevating to the council?”
“I doubt it. Beware of mages who want to serve at that level. Actually, I’m one of those who think if someone wants to serve at that level, you shouldn’t let them. Mages or anyone. Better to find people capable of doing a good job who don’t have their ego invested in it.”
“Mages are ego driven?”
“Isn’t almost everyone?”
“Touché.”
He was grinning now. And a lot more relaxed.
“You don’t want a seat on the council by any chance?” he went on.
“Nope. And if anyone suggests it, I know this nice penal planet I can send them to.”
“Ouch! Remind me never to piss you off.”
People seemed to keep saying that to me these days. A lot.