The Elders' Sequence

I collapsed into a chair in my sitting room. After flicking a clump of hair off my face, I opened my tablet and began notetaking, comparing the day’s notes against the other information I’d collected thus far from my interviews. I had begun to revisit those I had interviewed previously, asking more specific questions related to operations and orders they’d received from the Leadership. As I expected, most showed surprise that I didn’t already know about these things, but I ignored that. I wasn’t getting any new information from Zaraith, and the publicized news seemed to carry on as if nothing unusual were occurring, such as a potential war. Plenty of operations had, however, begun to function in an unusual way.

 

The trade embargoes had produced shortages in many goods, and we were relying on the disorganized outer entities of the empire for things like chemicals, machinery parts, and food. Expensive fees had been instated for all intergalactic travel, both for inbound and outbound travelers—another ruling that had violated UGE legislation and dramatically reduced the volume of business and information exchange. Worse yet, income from the fees and any remaining exports seemed to disappear as soon as it was received. And on top of it all, more bizarre research projects on weaponry had been ordered, and research on anything that could not be connected to warfare had virtually stopped. 

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I did believe that a war was coming. I had met with Chief Igolt of the Defense Department the day after Zaraith had informed me of this secret that, apparently, wasn’t so secret after all. Igolt’s whole department knew about the unrest across the empire, including on Ilyetrakh and Prutatkik, and in Medimya. He had also already discussed it with the Chief of Finance and Yaroak. They were working on managing the budget and the technology that would be needed. 

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“But we haven’t even tried negotiating yet,” I said to Igolt in the hallway, on his next visit to the House. 

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“That doesn’t matter, Second. We have to be prepared.” 

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“Who exactly is our opponent, though?” 

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He gave a short, bitter laugh. “That’s part of what has us scared. We’ve been watching Xenad and Humla more closely over the past few mrotepik, and we haven’t come up with much. We think we’re tracing a few agents from both worlds, possibly mercenaries who are Plozamoakan or Aluzamoakan, but it could be that they’re not associated with those worlds at all. They could just be taking advantage of things.” 

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“Do you think Medimya would risk an attack?” 

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He swung his head to the side and looked out the window, scanning whatever he saw out there. “Zaraith seems to think so. I wasn’t sure, but now I think it might be inevitable.” He jerked his head back. “You didn’t hear me say that.” 

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“No,” I said slowly, “but first tell me why you think it might be inevitable.” 

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He sighed, and clasped his hands behind his back. “Oh, so you don’t know,” he muttered. He leaned toward my left ear. “Zaraith has sent warriors to more remote parts of Medimya. They’re guarding the water supplies there. Nothing’s happened yet, but Leader Partik is having a fit.” He righted himself, taking a glance around with a flick of his eyes. 

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I shook my head, incredulous. “Why? The water levels are fine.” It wasn’t until later that day that I discovered the water levels across our regions were not fine, bordering on drought in some places. 

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His head gave a miniscule shake, his wide-set horns hardly moving. “We don’t know where it’s going. Worse yet, there have been increased reports of people, random citizens, going missing. Without any cause. He’s blaming Partik for this, too.”

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“Why?”

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“Paranoia.” 

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“He does have some of that,” I agreed, “but knowing Zaraith, there’ll likely be some sort of reason behind his thinking. Something that led him to believe that.” 

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“Supposedly, there are connections. That’s what I’m told.”

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“What connections?”

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“To get back at us. To take what water we do have and make us pay higher prices for theirs. And to spook us by taking people captive. Perhaps use them as leverage.” 

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I inhaled sharply, hesitating. “This might seem like an out-of-place question, but—did Marurmé give you any indication of where she went? And why?” 

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He leaned toward my left ear again. “I mean total respect, Second, when I say, for the sake of all of us, do not ask me about that person ever again.” 

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My mouth fell agape. It had been more of a spaghetti question—one I had flung out while wondering if it would stick. And it had stuck, but not in the way I expected. I loosely wondered if Marurmé, being from Medimya, had something to do with Zaraith’s paranoia. I didn’t want to go as far as assuming she was an agent for the Medimyans, but I did wonder if Zaraith saw her as a threat. With all this paranoia flying about, I had to assume it was possible that he might have done something to her. 

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I hated to even think about this, because I knew Zaraith loved his ulla. He had been closer to her than he ever had been to Kterimoar. But she had urged me to start thinking of replacing Zaraith, like she knew something would befall him soon. I wondered if she had seen this war coming. If it came to that, Zaraith would be leading the frontlines, as Leaders frequently did throughout history, where he would be at a high risk of being killed. 

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But why did she leave? And why couldn’t Igolt tell me anything about it?