(Photo by Burak the Weekender)

The last of His Golden Eminence’s advisors finally left the room, leaving him alone. Hours had been spent debating over the situation with the fringe. There were still a few more minutes before the representatives of the fringe worlds were supposed to contact him. These sorts of long distant communications were always a trial of patience. Nothing, not even a data signal, could move faster than light. As a result, it would take somewhere between half an hour to an hour for anything sent from one side of the conversation to the other to be arrive. Then it would take an equal amount of time for any response to be sent and received. It was because of this constraint that most long distance negotiations were done as a series of long speeches or such, where each side took their time to make their case to the other party.

As he waited, the Solar King considered what arguments the leaders of the fringe worlds were most likely to make. Would they lead with their bid for independence? He didn’t think it likely that they would make any threats, though he had some thoughts on how best to respond to such things.

Regardless of what they chose to open the discussion with, the Solar King would not accept secession. The core needed them too badly, needed their resources, to let them become independent. He was confident that the core would defeat the fringe if it came to war, but it wouldn’t be a victory. The fringe would be destroyed, true, but the core wouldn’t be much better off.

Peace is the main objective.

The Solar King wanted to clench his fists when that thought came to him. It wasn’t his own thought. It was Chester, his lead necrologist, who had the audacity to subjugate him. Most of the time, the Solar King somehow forgot he wasn’t in control of himself, but when Chester poked and prodded it brought all the suppressed memories back to the surface. He wanted to order Chester’s execution. He wanted to find a way to extract the neural gel that was keeping him obedient. He wanted his autonomy back.

No muscles tightened in his body. Not even a finger twitched. The Solar King raged inside his own mind but had nothing to show for all that effort. The worst part was that, unless Chester was giving him instructions, the Solar King couldn’t do anything. His mind would fog over and he’d lose track of everything around him until Chester gave him direction. It was a failing of the imperfect process Chester had been forced to use. Well, Chester wasn’t forced to do anything, but it was the only process Chester could have used at that time.

“Incoming Transmission,” a disembodied voice chimed and refocused the Solar King’s thoughts.

A screen turned on and showed six people gathered together in a plain room. There were no markings to show where exactly they were broadcasting from, no planetary or outpost insignia. They weren’t taking any chances with this meeting. If the Solar King could have pinpointed where they were at, he could have ordered a strike on their location and killed them in one fell swoop.

We want peace, Chester reminded the Solar King.

If the central leadership for the fringe was dead then there would be peace since it would take the fringe too long to regroup. By that time the Solar King’s armies could have made the transit to the fringe and stamped out any further notions of rebellion.

“Solar King, I am Head Magistrate Diego Culm,” the central member of the fringe leadership stated. “With me to my left is Fu’eh Takashido, the Magistrate of Mining, Maiso Di, the Magistrate of Gas Extraction, and Sibini McEnroy, the Magistrate of Trade. To my right is Moke Dimagio, Magistrate of Habitation, and Nodeki Fenn, Magistrate of Security.

“Together, we represent the six billion people living and working throughout the solar system in the region commonly referred to as the fringe.”

At this moniker, all six people on the screen frowned or grimaced, making it clear what they thought of calling it that.

“We will be presenting the value, the true value, of the people and their labor to you, Solar King, expressing a certain amount of discontent with the current state of things, while also expressing our desire to avoid confrontation. We would like to reiterate our assurance to you that we did not authorize, condone, or support in any way the recent attacks that have occurred on your worlds.”

Your worlds. They were already thinking of themselves as being separate from the Solar King’s rule.

The presentation was well done, the Solar King admitted to himself as they went along. They had all the data to back up their claims regarding just how much their goods and labor were needed by the core. Their productivity per capita was higher than the core, but their life expectancy was almost a third lower than the core world’s population. Part of that was a lack of genetic repairing but there were also the much more frequent hab failures and other accidents that cost people their lives.

“We have long had the materials to produce our own updated habs but not the manufacturing nor financial capabilities due to the legal limitations imposed upon us,” Moke Dimagio was saying. “Over the past five years, however, we have built up over a hundred production facilities where we can manufacture our own, updated habitat modules.

That was a flagrant act of disobedience against the Solar King’s orders. He’d long insisted that habitat production was solely the privilege of the core producers. It ensured uniformity, quality control, and allowed for the Solar King to exert a measure of leverage over the fringe since they had long been more unruly.

“Already, these new habs have begun to be installed in our most neglected, most dangerous regions. These new habs are also fully compatible with current, core modules, but with superior radiation shielding.”

Improved radiation shielding would be something a lot of people would be interested in. Most worlds and settlements lacked any sort of planetary magnetosphere to protect against cosmic radiation. That was why genetic repairing was so crucial, but if people didn’t need to undergo that procedure as often, if at all, well, they’d jump at it. The problem with radiation shielding was that it tended to be heavy, and the heavier something was, the more costly it was to transport and install.

“These habs are also only two percent heavier than their core-built counterparts, but are twenty percent more effective at blocking radiation. Already we have noticed a significant decrease in genetic degradation among those living in these habs.”

From there, Maiso Di and Fu’eh Takashido presented their mineral and gas extraction numbers, noting how much of what their people produced was shipped to the core at a net loss, costing them more than it was really worth, but since they were mandated by the Solar King to meet certain quotas, they had no other choice.

“We have always known this was unsustainable,” Fu’eh Takashido said, “and it is time for this issue to be resolved.”

Sibini McEnroy nodded and the others turned to her.

“Our space and shipping ports have long been inefficient when it came to profiting our people, while the core has enjoyed the benefits of artificially cheap goods. While we understand that price negotiations for commodities will take some time, in the mean time we will be enforcing a tariff on all shipping to the core in order to ensure profitability for our people.”

Sibini continued, giving numbers and details, but the Solar King was only half listening to her. They were being clever about all of this, never coming out and stating that they were breaking away from the Solar King’s rule, but things like tariffs were used to balance out economic differences between nations, not regions under the same government. What was more was the fact that none of their charters of governance allowed for them to do any of these things. They were only authorized to carry out the law as given to them by the Solar King. They could make requests and submit suggestions, but that was the limit of what they were authorized to do.

Last to present was Nodeki Fenn.

“Solar King,” Nodeki began, “you selected me for this post fifteen years ago. I grew up in the core. I’d never been to the fringe but was eager to serve. When I arrived, I did not find the lawless, stupid masses I’d been led to believe lived here. Instead, I found diligent, hard working people who were stuck in a rigged system. They knew it was rigged, but what could they do about it? The core had armies and armadas, weapons and warriors to wield them. At first I was certain that my impression of them was wrong. The core was enlightened and it was simply the fault of those in the fringe for lacking the intelligence, the will to thrive. But as time went on, I realized that it was the core that I was wrong about. The only substantive difference between the fringe and the core was opportunity.

“For the last five years, I’ve been working to give them that opportunity, so far as I am able. To that end, I took what I’d learned from my years working in the advanced weapons systems and from my time overseeing certain aspects of your reanimated army, and have given it to the people here. Now, with what I am about to say I want to impress upon you that our intention is not to seek war. Quite the opposite. But we know that unless we have the means to stop you and your forces from simply coming down on us and forcing us into chains, we will never attain the progress we need.

“Solar King,” Nodeki Fenn was already sitting up straight but they took on an even more imposing expression as they spoke, “we have reverse engineered much of your necrological advancements and are now in possession of a reanimated army. Centrifugal accelerators are in position to not only defend against any approaching armada, but also to strike planetary targets should the need arise. There are also other satellites in place to interrupt any gravity assisted acceleration around our bordering planets, capable of disabling even a Crown Ship.

“The few skirmishes our forces have had with your fleets were not intentional, I assure you. They caught us by surprise, but in the end I believe it was your forces that were more surprised as we proved victorious. Even still,” Nodeki Fenn did not look pleased about the fighting that had taken place, “we do not desire war. We desire to be allowed to govern ourselves. We desire respect for our labor and goods. We desire peace. Currently there are no active engagements between either of our forces. We will not seek any further engagements and respectfully expect your forces to withdraw as well. For decades now, the core has been defined as everything up to fifteen light minutes from the sun, and the fringe beginning at twenty-five light minutes from the sun. We are content with that division, and claim all planets, moons, and other resources from twenty-five light minutes out to seven light hours from the sun.”

“Thank you, everyone,” Diego Culm said. “We eagerly await your response, Solar King, and look forward to negotiating this transition of governance.”

The Solar King raged within the confines of his mental prison. How dare they? How dare Nodeki Fenn, of all people, turn against the Solar King. If it wasn’t for him, Nodeki would still be stuck drawing schematics for someone else’s grand ideas. He wanted to kill them all. Make examples of them for having the gall to even suggest such a thing as independence. His armies could be there within the year. In the mean time, he would locate their accelerators and have them neutralized. Then he could begin the bombardments and –

You will accept this, Chester told him.

“NO!” the Solar King shouted, pounding his fist down on the arm of his throne as hard as he could, shattering the wood and metal inlays. “I WILL NOT –

Be quiet, Chester’s panicked instruction came right away.

The Solar King fought against it, feeling his mind breaking away slightly from Chester’s hold over him. In that briefest of moments, a thought formed and a message, an order, was sent.

What was that? Chester demanded as the Solar King came back under his control.

“I ordered your execution,” the Solar King said, smiling despite Chester’s efforts. “You will die today.”

Cancel it!

“My instruction was for them to turn off all communications until after you were dead.”

He waited for a response, but soon the fog began to creep into his mind and the Solar King forgot what he was so happy about and what he was so angry about. Two different things, different events. A smile lingered on his lips while his hands clenched the broken pieces of his throne.