Poul Anderson - The Game of Empire

“Well—” She shivered, stiffened, and challenged: “What else do you promise? Why should anybody go over to your cause, besides your devoted squadrons? Oh, I’m not saying you would be a bad ruler. But who can possibly be good enough to justify the price?”

“You have heard me talk, both at home and in public,” he said. “I don’t claim to be a superman or anything like that. Conceivably, a better candidate exists. But where? Who else will make the Imperium strong and virtuous again?”

His voice dropped, became vibrant: “And Vida, I will make up for lives lost, by orders of magnitude. For I will hammer out an end to this senseless, centuries-old conflict with the Roidhunate. The Merseians aren’t monsters. They’re aggressive, yes, but so were we humans in our heyday. They’ll listen to men who are strong, as I’ve shown them I am, and who are reasonable, as I will show them I am. It has already happened, on a smaller scale. The galaxy has ample room for both our races.

“Will not a dream like that appeal to worlds gone weary?”

There was a stillness that lengthened. The sun began to spread itself out in a red-golden arc.

Vida laid her head against her man’s breast. He closed his arms about her. “So be it,” she whispered. “I’ll hold the fort as best I can. You see, I often think it’s foolish, but the fact won’t go away that I love you, nor do I want it to.”

“Good girl,” he said into the fragrance of her hair. “Sure, let’s enjoy a family dinner.”

That would be a chance to re-inspire his sons.

Moonjumper toiled out of Imhotep’s gravity well, but once in clear space her gravs had the force to boost her across to Daedalus in less than fifty hours, at the present configuration of the planets. Within the potbellied hull, Targovi considerately maintained both weight and pressure at Terran standard, and wore his oxygill. Having put the ship on full automatic, he joined his passengers in the saloon. That was an elegant word for a dingy cabin into which Axor must coil himself while Diana perched on the table.

They had dimmed the lights and were looking in wonder at a viewscreen. It showed the receding globe, luminous white and blue-green; three ashy-silver moons; crystalline blackness aswarm with fire-gems that were stars; the radiant road of the Milky Way. “God will always be the supreme artist,” rumbled the Wodenite, and crossed himself.

Targovi, who was a pagan if he was anything, fingered the charm suspended at his throat. It was a small turquoise hexagon with a gold inlay of an interlinked circle and triangle. “Supreme at surprises, too,” he said. The longing surged in him. If this miserable tub of his had a hyperdrive, if he could outpace light and seek the infinite marvels yonder!

Yet a planet could keep presenting a person astonishments throughout his lifetime. The trick was to avoid any that were lethal. “It were wise to make sure you twain know what to expect when we arrive,” he declared. “Daedalus has its uniquenesses. Diana, I would have to crawl over our friend to reach the cooler. Will you open it and serve us? You’ll find meat, beer, cold tea, bread for yourself and for the Reverend if he wishes.”

“I wish you’d remembered to stow some fruit,” she complained mildly. “I do love frostberries, and promised F. X. a taste.”

“There may be some in Aurea, imported.” Targovi bounded to the table and curled up near the girl. He could do things like that in a low gee-field, and was so used to the gill that it was no nuisance. But he did need to keep active, lest his flesh go slack. He braced himself against what was going to hurt. “Let me not forget to supply you with money, unless Axor has more left him than I believe. You’ll be buying all your food, as well as most other things. Food can get expensive on Daedalus, and you may be faring for many a day.”

“Ah … I have heard, yes, I have heard that the native life is inedible by us,” Axor said.

Diana, busy improvising a sandwich, nodded. “None is known that’s poisonous, nor any disease we can catch,” she told him, “but the flip side of this is that we get nothin’ out of whatever we eat. Plant and animal kingdoms evolved there too, but not like yours or mine or Targovi’s. Proteins with d-amino acids, for instance. Here.” She handed him the sandwich. It was hefty, but vanished in his maw as a drop of water vanishes on a red-hot skillet. She whistled and set herself to carve him a piece of the roast—about half.

“Thus it was necessary to introduce Terran and similar plants, later animals?” he inquired.

“Aye,” Targovi said, “the which wasn’t easy. Plants need their microbes, their worms, a whole ecology ere they can flourish. And the native life wants not to be displaced. And it is adapted to the environment. Every patch of soil to be cultivated must first be sterilized down to bedrock—radiation or chemicals—and then the new organisms patiently nurtured. And meanwhile the old ones keep trying to reconquer it. Aquaculture is harder still.”

“Why did the settlers make the effort?”

“It was cheaper than depending on synthetics. Also safer, in the long run. Industries can be shattered more readily than farms.”

“You misapprehend, my son. I meant that I cannot see why humans chose to invade a planet like that in the first place.”

“Oh, my, you are unworldly, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Diana said while she fed him. “But you Wodenites never have been hell-bent to colonize like us. Is that because you don’t breed so crazily? Anyhow, planets where humans can live without a lot of fancy gear aren’t that common. Artificial miniworlds are fine … if you don’t mind scanty elbow room, strict laws, dependency on outside resources, and vulnerability to attack. Else you take what you can get. By the time David Jones discovered Daedalus, the best places in known space were already claimed, and goin’ into unknown space meant such a long haul that settlers would be cut off from their civilizations.”

“ ‘Civilizations,’ plural,” Targovi pointed out. “It wasn’t only humans who arrived. Members of several races with more or less the same requirements came too. Some wanted simply to homestead, or to make a living by serving the homesteaders. But some had their special interests. Weird is the patchwork you’ll find on Daedalus.”

“Fascinating,” said Axor. “I daresay that, as a political necessity, these communities enjoy basic local autonomy.”

“Aye. Most won it in early days, negotiating with a weak planetary authority. Certain regions on Daedalus did have much potential. Islands especially; those were easiest to defend against the encroachments of native life. This happened in the Commonwealth era, you realize, when government was loose everywhere. After the Empire took over, the greatest of the baronies were rich enough to buy an Imperial pledge that they would be left alone as long as they paid their tribute and caused no trouble.”

Diana passed out beverages and slathered mustard on bread for herself. “The Empire’s always been fairly tolerant, hasn’t it?” she remarked.

“It is becoming less so, I fear,” the Tigery mumbled. “And as for what a ‘new broom’ might sweep away from us—” .

“Then in spite of what you’ve said about Admiral Magnusson,” the girl tossed back, “wouldn’t he be off his orbit to try for the throne? I mean, he’s got to operate out of Daedalus to start with, but if the dwellers don’t like the idea and begin undercuttin’ him—”

“They will meekly do whatever they are told, aside from black marketing and the like,” Targovi said. “Likewise the fighting men. I’m sure many will be less than glad at being taken from home, back to war, this soon. But what will they dare do save shout hurrah with everybody else? Yours is a magnificent species in its fashion, little friend, but like every species it bears its special weaknesses.”