ONE
THE MEETING

A manicured hand shot through the closing elevator door, and like magic, the portal dissolved away to reveal an attractive man dressed in a charcoal grey suit cut in the Bikmiisal style; long and flowing with little decoration around the neckline and bell-like cuffs. His neatly cropped tawny hair glinted beneath the recessed lighting of the conveyance.

“Excuse me. Mind if I…?” He gestured, wanting to know if I minded him joining me in the elevator car.

I replied, “No, of course.” Unless he was a creeper. Too many hands-on types were at this Sector’s meeting. Humans are an oddity here, and politics seemed to breed creepers. Thank goodness for Tazepens. Mine resided in a sheathe sewn into my sleeve; every item in my wardrobe had a hidden sheathe as it was a Ternovian necessity of late. All it would take is a flick of the wrist to seat it into my palm for a little stabby-stabby electrified defense. After years on combat front lines, I had plenty of practice in using the slim metal tool. Always kept on a person, their own electromagnetic field kept it constantly charged, only dispelling it’s pent up power once unsheathed.

The humanoid stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the lobby. Doors swooshed shut and down we went. Curiosity sat in his voice. “Are you here for the summit?”

I had my attention on the sign posted stating the elevator’s maximum weight limit in so many languages I never knew existed. Never saw mine displayed. Turned and looked into a set of green eyes that positively glowed with an inner fire. They twinkled and flickered, and I knew in that moment, whoever this was, was a dignitary from Iocyne.

“Yes I am.” I had yet to master small talk and tried to soften my short answer with a kind tone.

His eyebrows quirked and he asked, “This is the first time I’ve seen you at a summit. How are you finding the experience?”

I smiled at him. “Interesting. It’s been wonderful to see all the delegates, though.” While few wore suits reminiscent of western society on Old Earth, many preferred their native costume, the colors and cuts delighted my eye. Some were figure-hugging, while others were hardly more than strategically placed nanocomposite feathers bound with arachnid silk. Anthropology was a hobby, and now being here on Velmaris, I couldn’t help but think that five-generations ago, my ancestors from Old Earth awakened from stasis, forging a new colony and here we are today, a thriving society making allies with other civilizations.

The Cynari colonized Iocyne. Where they were from before, I have no idea. But the lick of fire in their gaze always gave them away. “I’m not terribly fond of the summit experience, but I do enjoy meeting my galactic neighbors.” He held out his hand for me to shake. “I am Yrsen.”

I took his hand, his touch hot, and shook. “Zelda.” Even when we released hands, I could still feel his warmth on my skin.

“Do all of your people have hair the color of fire, Zelda?”

“No, not all. Most are shades of brown or blonde, like you. All of your people have fire in their eyes, it is said.”

He smiled. “That is true. One cannot be Cynari without the flame of life.”

“Is that what it’s referred to? I’ve wondered. One doesn’t find it referred to often in literature in terms other than ‘fiery-eyed’ or ‘blazing glare’ so, you know, a poetic turn of phrase is most noticeable.”

The elevator doors melted away and Yrsen held out an arm. “Is it not the custom of your people to say, ‘ladies first’ when the opportunity presents itself?”

I smiled. “An antiquated custom, but yes.” Stepped into the crowded lobby and nodded toward Yrsen. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Then I meandered to the conference center for the start of today’s meeting, a summit of this section of galaxy. The room sat close to six hundred, all at round tables with a holoscreen projected from the center, so all could hear and see the speaker clearly, their words translated into native languages for those who didn’t speak the common tongue, have a translator implant, or use the telepathic synapse relay.

The first speaker from Juilusank talked about how it would benefit all here to permit open commerce without the heavy tariffs on exports. Second speaker droned on about creating solar flare protection and why eradicating asteroid belts would help establish new trade routes, although doing so would also increase space debris.

The third speaker was Yrsen. He strode up to the podium, squared his shoulders and began an impassioned plea.

“A plague is sweeping through this sector, from Zibtha to Asovilso. This scourge is the bane of all. Increased crime and violence are the children produced by this monster. Rendeise is a drug used by those in power to keep people complacent. It dulls their senses so they can work until they die, without proper nutrition or rest.

“That is slavery. Per the Dielniya’k Treaty of the Milnisant Convention, slavery has been universally banned. Our ancestors fought in the Great Fifth Dimensional War to ensure that every last being in this universe incarnates as a free being, able to choose the life path that best suits them, without harm or hindrance from others.

“If the worker dies, then they don’t have to be paid, do they? This insidious plague against all creeds and species knows no boundaries. It can be airborne so children, too, fall victim to the apathy begat by greed. Any historian can tell you how these acts by their mere existence bring instability to our mutually agreed timeline. We must discover the origins and address it, lest the ripple effect go further than Iocyne. It’s why our ancestors fought to bring the fabled Terantiqua into the fold of its galactic brethren and to help its citizens embrace the Fifth Dimension of life in order to break away from the slave plantation that planet had become under the influence of lower frequencies. ”

Behind him flicked on a screen, presenting a slideshow of dead bodies piled before hovels and huge buildings. Some lined the roads in forest, others rotted beneath the sun in some incredibly dry-looking place. Bodies floated in rivers and seas, bloated and grotesque. My guts twisted at the sight, although it shouldn’t. Had Yrsen not presented his plea, I would have presented my own, rife with similar images. Now that he has opened the door, any with a similar problem would flock to him, undoubtedly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Rendeise is a weed on Iocyne, growing wild around the oases. It is a vital part of the ecosystem, as there are dozens of animals dependent upon it for sustenance. Its non-narcotic use is vital for indigenous cultures on Iocyne, being used to manufacture textiles, furnishings, and clothing. The patrols we have are inadequate to keep the slavers from decimating Iocyne. And quite frankly, there are a number of planets that have the elements necessary to manufacture Rendeise on a commercial scale, thereby creating an invasive species of plant which would destroy native ecosystems and enslave the native populations.

“We have little recourse left. Any guards we placed along targeted oasis are murdered, and Rendeise taken. We cannot keep feeding good soldiers to the desert. We need outside help.

“I humbly beseech you all on the behalf of Iocyne and the Cynari, to help us prevent those who destroy and kill from taking Rendeise off Iocyne to use as an intoxicant to enslave and kill. Millions of beings have died already. How many more will be enslaved with the bonds of chemical dependence before left rotting in the sun?”

His speech over, Yrsen left the podium to return to his seat. All sat in silence, shocked by the grotesque bodies he had displayed. More delegates made their debates and pleas while I sat lost in thought.

When a stop was called for the day, I sought to find Yrsen in the throng of bodies. Spotted him through the bluish-green gelatinous form of an insect-like Nixys, as he spoke to the Sector’s Summit director. When they were through speaking, I strode over and smiled. “If you don’t mind, I have some questions about your Rendeise issue.”

With a smile, Yrsen replied, “Certainly. Shall we find somewhere quieter to speak?”

I nodded and said, “Follow me.” We walked to the pod station and waited for another elevator. Once the clear doors faded away, we stepped inside. I scanned my ID badge into the brightly lit console and the membrane door formed before whisking us up and to the right. When the door melted away again, my room lay before us.

“Your suite?”

I smiled. “This wasn’t a convoluted seduction, I promise.”

“Too bad for me,” and Yrsen flashed his smile again.

The sensation of blood pounding into my face washed over me as the pod closed its door again and the wall reformed to my room in the hotel. Without wasting time, I made for my bedside and retrieved my holotablet from the nightstand.

“On Ternova, we’ve had a drastic increase in deaths in lower income communities.” I swiped at the holotablet’s screen and projected images I’d photographed of impoverished areas. Bodies in various stages of decomposition as those still alive were skeletonized and near death themselves. Swiped another image, this time showing an all-girls orphanage-turned-brothel. “From what I’ve been able to find out, a substance known as ‘wedreed’ is distributed from this building.”

“Wedreed?”

“I believe that’s what they call Rendeise, at least where I took these images.”

“Who owns that building?”

I cleared my throat. “Xed Merxes Miro.”

“And who is that?” Yrsen prompted me, urgency in his voice. “There is one known as Merxes Miro who is responsible for the bulk of Iocyne’s pillaging.”

“He’s not one you’d call a mobster to his face. A business man who conducts transactions in blood.” Blood of the young and innocent, blood of my kin. If I had things my way, it would be me claiming Miro’s head, his hellhounds be damned.
The flames in Yrsen’s eyes seemed to grow. “And how do you know all this?”

“You could say it’s been a hobby of mine to find out things about people.” I offered with a small smile.

The flame seemed to bank and after a moment, he asked, “Just who are you, Zelda of the Fiery Hair, and why exactly are you at a Sector Summit?”

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