Elysium’s Awakening

Author

CHAPTER 1

Plant your feet on any world at random: it doesn’t matter which one, just make sure it’s got enough oxygen to allow you to follow this thought experiment through to the end. Now, stare up at the night sky. Wherever you are, stars will light up the darkness like a Christmas tree festooned with fairy bulbs. Or maybe another analogy will be more appropriate; Christmas isn’t very popular amongst the ruling elite, as it celebrates someone other than the Imperial Majesty on the Golden Throne – and anyone other than him or her is a subject, not someone to be venerated.

But, however you describe the experience, what you’ll see when you look up into that glittering sky is truly awe-inspiring. The stars shining into our eyes show us a fraction of the universe, a dauntingly gigantic arena of worlds, suns, nova, black holes, and other phenomena. Each and every one has the potential to be more bizarre and powerful than anything even the most fertile imagination can create. The universe is an electrifying, dynamic, and exciting home for all forms of life.

Humanity began exploring its own immediate part of the cosmos a few short centuries ago. They’re still very new when compared to the many civilisations which have sprung up over the billions of millennia that the universe has existed. However, humanity has spread its wings widely in the short time that it’s known how to fly; many stars are now called home by human colonists. They are, mostly, descendants of people who first braved the elements four hundred years ago, breaking free from the small, average star that gave their species life. People still leave Earth to seek a new life elsewhere, often on one of the existing border worlds or somewhere beyond the rim if they can escape the Imperial patrols. Things are often more relaxed at the edge – or beyond it – than in the core worlds, where Imperial domination is absolute. It’s meant to be absolute at the border as well, of course, but that far from central control there’s always a chance for illicit contacts to be made and new ideas to be sought out. Border worlds are the only places where traders from other alliances are usually allowed, and so are the only places where citizens of the so-called Republic (a misnomer if ever there was one) come into contact with people who are not controlled in thought and deed by its security forces, and so experience the tiniest amount of freedom; they are at least able to occasionally meet people with different life experiences and ideas.

But wherever humanity resides – whether they’re a great-great-great-great-whatever grandchild of the very first colonists, or whether they’re just leaving Earth to colonise a newly discovered world, either willingly or unwillingly – they make that world their own. Each planet plays host to new societies that make up the intricate web of human civilisation. All these worlds are woven together, through communication satellites, spaceships, authoritarian supervision, and underhand intelligence-gathering, into the human Republic. With each generation, humanity has moved further away from the human experience of sharing a single planet. Their ability to evolve to cope with the particular quirks of their new homes is just one of their many strengths.

Humanity is prodigious and wilful but, like any other species, encounters frontiers; hence its border worlds. The Outmarches is just the latest; it’s the wild west of space, at least as far as the human race is concerned. It wasn’t designed naturally, nor was it created in a planning session somewhere in the depths of the Imperial Palace. Instead, it evolved over the course of a long Cold War between the human Republic and the Rixxian Empire, two states which couldn’t be more different from each other if they tried. The Republic, a totalitarian, repressive regime designed to worship and serve the imperial leader, and the Empire, a free, democratic regime that allows its residents the opportunity to think and explore the mysteries of the universe, as well as choose who rules them.

Neither side will openly admit that the Outmarches acts as a buffer between them. To do so would admit that such a buffer is necessary, and such an idea would publicly acknowledge the continuing dislike towards, and fear from, each side. It wouldn’t be the strategic or the political thing to do.

The Outmarches allowed for some element of breathing space. If pressed, both sides would say that the Outmarches is of no strategic importance. That’s true, of course, if by no strategic importance, you actually mean, When a Cold War has lasted between two rival powers as long as this one has, both sides welcome an opportunity to have some distance between them, as well as some respite from all the political wrangling. Not having to patrol a shared border with a hundred ships each (only twenty ships, a few unmanned satellites, and some tracking stations are really necessary to patrol a neutral zone) means that each side can direct their resources into other things; economic dominance of worlds within their sphere of influence, expansion on other fronts, and developing alliances with independent worlds in the surrounding space. You get the picture. It’s a chance to rest, as long as neither side breaches the tacit, unspoken truce between them.

That doesn’t mean, of course, that ships don’t occasionally venture into the Outmarches. It’s an unacknowledged truth; both sides pretend it doesn’t happen, because neither side wants all-out war … at least not yet. So ships sometimes breach the supposed neutral zone and, if they were ever found out, the other side would affect shock and anger.

Neither side is ready for outright war, so they’re careful to never detect the ships from the other side. They also pick their missions carefully, limiting them to specific purposes; exploring worlds with mineral or technological wealth, for instance, or searching for anything that will give their side an edge. Spy masters are also active in the region, searching for worlds with life that would willingly gather intelligence in exchange for the support and security of the alliance. If they are willing to do that without the formality of an alliance, even better; it enables official deniability to be maintained.

There are plenty of worlds in the Outmarches, most of which don’t have any higher life forms. The ones that do are exciting and interesting, but such inhabitants often don’t show much interest in establishing relations with either side; they’re simply not interested in the politics of conspiracy and fear.

There are worlds in every part of the cosmos where life never took hold. That simple and inescapable fact allows for new colonies of trusted, home-grown humans to be transplanted there and bed in. That fact, however, takes on added significance in the Outmarches. Either side could, if they chose, colonise half-a-dozen empty worlds in a matter of years. Both humanity and the Rixxians are well-known to be effective devourers of resources and planets, whether democratically or by force.

Neither side would colonise worlds in the Outmarches, however; they value the buffer more than the total war that would inevitably stem from such a fool-hardy decision. Except … Except that the human Republic has had, for the past eight years, an Emperor who wants to expand. He’s hungry for new territories, and doesn’t believe that things like natural or political boundaries should be any bar to him. He hasn’t yet actively militarised the zone, but he’s clever and canny and very, very cunning. If he can’t conquer the Outmarches – and being the intelligent man that he is, he knows instinctively that to go in there full steam ahead would be a very fool-hardy decision – then he at least wants to make use of the worlds there for something. Especially given the fact that the Rixxians haven’t.

One Outmarches world in particular – a lush, verdant, beautiful world dubbed Elysium by its discoverers – caught his attention. Or, rather, it caught the eye of his inner circle, who then made sure it caught his eye as well.

First, look at it from orbit. It’s a lush, green world, with a single landmass covering a quarter of the planet’s surface. The world’s discoverers believed the single continent proved the world was young; Earth, back in early pre-history, had a single continent too. No-one who has since studied Elysium disagrees.

This world, halfway between the two borders, is sustained by a type-II star. This yellow sun isn’t that dissimilar to Earth’s own Sol. The world’s orbit gives it an Earth-like day and night cycle, and it enjoys a similar length day. The five other planets in the solar system are either too hot or too cold for life to flourish, or to even struggle into existence from the rock pools and cesspits of its crevices. Elysium, however, is in the Goldilocks zone. It’s capable of sustaining life, and does so luxuriantly. It is positively teeming with creatures of all shapes and sizes; inhabiting the air, the oceans, and the land. No higher life forms exist as yet, although a bipedal, green-skinned race shows a lot of potential. They inhabit the mainland in family and community circles; whilst they don’t yet possess an oral language like ours, they possess a rudimentary consciousness that appeals to Emperor Edgardo. Life thrives on this world.

Now look at the super-continent. Its size is awe-inspiring, especially when you compare it to the various continents on Earth. It’s so big, in fact, that it accommodates many climates and land types across its massive length and width; forests, deserts, mountains, and everything in between. These different terrains have encouraged life to develop in a myriad of different forms.

Elysium also has innumerable islands dotted around the vast, deep oceans which occupy the rest of its surface. Some of the native creatures are so savage