Sevram Sabbart tried not to wince as the support beams above him groaned. They always did that but he had seen far too many people die from collapsing structures to simply ignore it. A lifetime under the domes had given him a painful awareness of such things.
"Do not fear, My Lord, I'll protect you," came a coy voice to his right and above him.
"Oh, I'm sure you will do your best, but even you might struggle to protect me from tons of steel and concrete falling on our heads. I appreciate the thought though."
He looked up at his companion, an octoling female of only average height but he was still only as tall as her hip, and the ends of her yellow tentacles swayed at his eye level. With her curvaceous figure, pretty face and bewitching eyes, Dalia was a wonderful thing to look at, which was, of course, the idea. A takevir of his station required a takenam of her outstanding physical qualities.
Their destination came into view ahead of them, a rarely used administration building. It's walls were cracked and a small corner of the building had collapsed, but the rest of it was perfectly sound, at least as far as buildings in the domes went. That fact was enough to make one cry.
Dalia proceeded Sevram inside and signaled when it was clear. The interior of the building looked much better than the exterior. Efforts of the karth labour brigades kept even hardly used buildings like this fairly clean and kept.
After navigating a few corners, they came upon a pair of large doors at the end of a long corridor. Sevram forced himself not to wince when he saw another octoling female standing beside said doors, one hand on the ink pistol attached to her hip. Someone had gotten to the meeting place ahead of him.
As they neared, the two females regarded each other, with Dalia smiling while the other takenam all but glared at her. Sevram noted that she was quite pretty, but importantly, not as good looking as Dalia. He gave her a small smile and a nod as he passed through the doors. She returned the nod but only glanced at him, her eyes locking back onto Dalia with a cynical gaze as the latter took position on the other side of the door.
The room inside was dimly lit, a few old lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling by their wires. Inside was a single, large, patchwork metal table in a squashed diamond shape, surrounded by the most heterogeneous assortment of chairs one could imagine, made from all manner of different materials.
Halfway down one end of the table, next to one of the points, another takevir sat with his arms in his lap and looking just a bit smug.
Aaran Haruul, Lord of Health and Welfare, had been a friend since childhood and a friendly rival since adulthood. He stood just a bit taller than Sevram, near the upper end of height for most takevir, but he still wouldn't come up to Dalia's chest.
Sevram shook his head and couldn't help but smile. "Did you arrive an hour ago just so you could say you were here first?"
The other laughed. "Please, you know none of us have time for such petty games. As it happens, I've only been here for a few minutes. It was as much a surprise to me as I'm sure it was for you. Honestly, it's a bit unsettling being here with no one else. I don't know how or why you do it."
"Same reason you did: to get the best chair." In spite of that claim, Sevram adopted the seat right next to Aaran, one whose seat was a patchwork of thin metal plates riveted together.
"It's unusual for you to call a meeting though. Usually I'm the one taking that initiative."
"You're not the only one with reliable informants." Aaran's smug grin grew just a bit broader. "But trust me, it's something worth sharing. I imagine you and the others will have some very tasty information as well."
Sevram frowned. It was true, he did have some quite valuable, even disturbing, information to share with the group, but did Aaran know what he knew or did what he know imply that everyone else knew something?
The doors opened and in stepped High Mother Morilla Voda, representative of the mothers and nurses from the breeding domes.
Sevram and Aaran both stood but she waved them back down and headed for a seat near the far end of the table. Despite pushing eighty, she moved with the vitality of someone half her age.
No sooner did she sat down that the door opened yet again, revealing Lord of Agriculture, Villam Kolia, and, to everyone's surprise, Lord of Science and Research, Narven Ida.
"Lord Ida," Sevram greeted. "I must admit this is a bit of a surprise."
"I invited him," Kolia answered quickly. "I know he hasn't been in the Ravalda very long but he has plenty of grievances I think should be heard prior to the next official session."
Aaran shrugged his tentacles. "Well, it's not that he's unwelcome, just that we try to give new Lords of the Imperium a chance to settle into their jobs first."
"I appreciate your concern," Ida said as he sat across the table from him and Aaran, "however, it's been clear to me that there will be no 'settling' into this mess."
"A mess is a very good way of putting it," Voda groused. "And this war isn't making things any cleaner."
"Ah, the war," Aaran nodded slowly. "Well, on that front, I may have some good news, but I suppose it depends how you look at it. I'll explain once everyone arrives."
They didn't have long to wait as the Lady of Law, Lord of Trade, and Lord of Infrastructure all arrived in short order. None of them looked particularly happy, so Aaron's confident smile stood out. Sevram hoped that was a good sign. They could use some good news for once, to go along with all the bad that was no doubt also going to be voiced at this meeting.
"Are we all here?" Sevram asked. Subtle nods all around. "Very well. Since Lord Haruul called this meeting, I think it's only fair he chair it."
"Thank you, Lord Sabbart." Aaran leaned forward and placed both palms on the table. "Lords and Ladies, I have it, from an extremely reliable source, that, just the other day, an Octarian Army officer, who had been an inkling prisoner of war, was released, along with her entire unit, carrying a message from Inkopolos asking to reopen diplomatic relations."
Eyes widened and bodies stiffened around the table. There hadn't been any nonmilitary contact with Inkopolis since the last war ended a century ago. With this new war waging for over two years, why were they asking for diplomatic talks now? Unless...
Sevram put aside his thoughts as Aaran handed him a tablet. On the screen was an image of a paper document written in formal Octese. As Lord of Education, Sevram marveled at the beautiful shape and form of the letters. Even with the rather poor quality of the image, it was all written so well that reading it wasn't difficult.
"Whoever wrote this is very fluent in Octese and at a very high level. There are words here I haven't seen in years. In fact, I haven't seen this quality of writing or script except in old books."
He handed the tablet to his right where Juli Protor, Lady of Law, sat, and she examined the image with analytical eyes. He could tell from the subtle changes in expression that she concurred with his analysis and appreciated the skill with which the document had been crafted.
"Whoever wrote this obviously went to a great deal of effort, but I detect an undertone of caution and that this process should be subtle. I get the distinct impression that this is being done without the knowledge of the Inkopolis government at large."
"But why hasn't the army told us about this?" Voda demanded. "Isn't this excellent news? If Inkopolis wants to negotiate, doesn't that mean we're winning the war, or at least costing them so much they want it to end?"
"I don't know," Aaron admitted. "However, my sources have said that the officer in question, along with every octoling released with her, has been placed under arrest and is being ground down by Army Intelligence for every scrap of detail. I'm afraid I have no idea where the original document is."
"Another army coverup?" Branz Bodova, Lord of Infrastructure, crossed his arms and scowled. "Why am I not surprised? They've been pretty vague about how the war's been going. All we know is that they've been taking all the spare resources, again, and a lot of casualties have been taken."
"Hardly surprising when they were the ones who attacked us first," Protor pointed out.
"I've been wondering about that claim." The coming argument quickly faded away as Iida folded his hands on the table, his face deadly serious.
"We were in the last stages of the flooder development program when the army suddenly provided us with a mini zapfish of all things, along with an adapter to plug it into the power grid. With all that spare power, the development part of the project was completed in record time. Of course, finding the resources for manufacturing them was another matter.
"I find it rather strange that the army gave us a zapfish, from who knows where, and an adapter with which to plug it into our system before we even heard of any Inkling attacks. I later found out that we had been among the first to receive a zapfish, with only the manufacturing sectors getting them before us. I was working at one of the inner research stations at the time, so I only heard second-hand, but when the Inklings attacked the flooder research station, the army hurriedly evacuated everyone from the station just before the attack came, mumbling something about a demon."
"A demon?" Sevram arched an eyebrow. "Do the inklings possess some kind of great weapon that would make our soldiers so fearful?"
"I'm certain if they did, the army would have mentioned it."
"They would have claimed fighting hundreds of them in defense of the homeland," Voda scoffed. "Even if there was just one or even one at all."
"Wait a moment," Protor raised her hand in a holding gesture. "Lord Iida, are you saying that Lord Octavio and the army lied and we were actually the ones who began the war?"
"It certainly seems that way," Iida said, his brows furrowing. "The pattern simply doesn't fit. I can't imagine the inklings attacking first with an army so weak they were 'easily repelled' and then having an army capable of penetrating to the inner domes within a matter of weeks."
"And the stalemate we had for two years until things flared up again?"
"I don't know. It would make sense given what we know."
"It's possible Octavio signed a ceasefire on his own," said Lemery Hobber, Lord of Trade. His tone was half musing, half scathing.
"Without even the input of the council? Aaraon asked. "Again?"
Iida lifted a finger. "If he is capable of conducting a pre-emptive strike to take zapfish from Inkopolis, is that so beyond belief?"
A heavy silence hung in the room. The implications were both obvious and staggering. Octavio had been their trusted, respected - even revered, dictator almost since the Great War ended. He had gotten through many tough times and although he and all those currently present thought that the position had finally become too much for him to handle, one couldn't dismiss his past deeds or accomplishments. So this notion of acting completely on his own authority without the input of the council at large felt like no small betrayal.
"That slimy, disrespectful, deceiving…" Voda was gripping the arms of her chair with white hands. Everyone else felt the same, but they also knew that something like this had been coming, and to Sevram's mind, there was only one solution.
"Octavio needs to be replaced as dictator."
All eyes fell on him. Some wore looks of understanding, some half shocked, but all of their expression had behind them some measure of pain and apprehension.
Well, it's now or never. He had known he would have to say this someday soon anyway.
"He's trying to take absolute power, which he very nearly has already. If he started this war, then he's putting his own petty ambitions above the needs of the people, and we simply cannot afford that. We'll be more than ruined; we'll be extinct."
"He never has been able to get over losing the war," Voda grumbled. "Did he start this new one just to try and redeem himself or satisfy his ego?"
"It doesn't matter," Hobber groused. "Lord Sabbart's right, we need a new dictator. Octavio's doing more harm than good at this point."
"But in the middle of a war?" Bodova asked. "A disruptive change in our nation's leadership when it's needed most? The upheaval it'll cause just in the Ravalda could bring us into civil conflict if we act rashly, and that's assuming the rest of the council allows us to push the motion forward. I'm sure none of us have forgotten that the army basically rules half the council."
"The army needs to be brought low, first," Protor said. "We need to have something over them. If we push, they'll try and just take over."
"If we push too far, perhaps," Sevram agreed. "However, if we give them a big juicy morsel as a potential gain, they might be more receptive to the idea. Besides, there's one big thing that'll stop them from taking over and that's the inklings. They'll seize upon that chance to attack and the army will be caught between keeping order and fighting them. They know they'll lose if they do that."
"The problem is that we don't know what the real situation is." Aaran had both fists resting on the table. "It's almost impossible to get good, reliable, informants in the army because they've been so thoroughly indoctrinated." He winced and looked at Sevram. "Um, not that I'm implying you in anything, Lord Sabbart."
Sevram smiled and waved his hand. "Of course not; however, I think it's time I share some recent information that I received from some of my own informants. Whatever's happened or is happening, is making it much easier for what informants we do have to contact us, or more willing. Whatever the case, what I'm about to tell you, if it is indeed true, will disturb you."
"Go on then," Kolia sighed. "Might as well get all the unpleasantness out in the open."
Sevram nodded absently. "Well…" he sighed, "there's no gentle way of saying this. Octavio, a number of months ago, installed an inkling as a legate in the army."
The shocked and disbelieving expressions on everyone's faces would, in normal circumstances, have caused Sevram to chuckle in amusement; unfortunately, there was nothing funny about this.
"I do not jest. I have heard from multiple good sources that this happened. The senior staff claimed that she was hypnotized or otherwise brainwashed, but even so, to take this step implies desperation. Octavio putting an inkling in such a high position over so many of his senior officers doesn't imply much faith in them. Perhaps he holds their loyalties in question."
"It might imply even more." The rising pitch of Protor's voice indicated promising thoughts. "It implies that Octavio might have been looking to replace his senior officers entirely. We often beat down on the army quite hard but, when you think about it, if they're even half as competent as we think they actually are, then imagine how much they must be suffering under Octavio's foolishness and single-minded obsession with conquering Inkopolis, and that's only the things we actually know about. Imagine how much we don't know."
"That is true." Volda leaned back in her chair, folding her arms on her lap and staring down at her feet. "We get so wrapped up in politics and our dislike for the army brass and their puppets on the council that we forget about the poor girls facing the inklings every day, dying for a cause and a war that didn't have to be."
"Which brings us to those soldiers who were arrested." Iida leaned forward and brought his voice down slightly. "If anyone can tell us what's really going on, it's them. We need to find a way to talk to them."
Protor hummed thoughtfully, her tentacles twisting and curling as her mind worked. "If we could get the officer who was arrested to testify before the Ravalda Imperium, then all the issues would be laid bare before the council as a whole and the army faction would have to acknowledge them."
"The only way to manage that would be to have her in our custody," Sevram pointed out. "Right now, Army Intelligence have her."
"And I am Lady of Law. Did you know that I found a rather surprising number of desertion charges filed from the army less than four months ago? I didn't mention it at the time because they were shortly thereafter rescinded, with a very apologetic letter from Executrix Danali, explaining that the soldiers in question had, in fact, merely gotten lost and trapped for a time. However, it struck me as odd so I did my own investigating."
"They aren't dead, are they?" Aaran asked worriedly.
"I honestly don't know what happened to them, but one of my daughters was among their number." I can't imagine where she is, so I must find her. I believe that should be more than enough justification for her to be put into the custody of my ministry, preferably before the army realizes that I've done so. In the interests of investigating and clarifying the integrity of our soldiers, of course." She allowed a rare smirk and more than a few others at the table shared it.
Sevram interlocked his fingers tightly. "That is a dangerous game. You are certain you want to play it that way?"
"Of course. The army is hiding something and we're not going to get answers by playing nice or safe. Surely, we've all realized by now that we're not playing a game purely for control of the Ravalda Imperium but for the future of our entire nation. If the inklings are willing to negotiate, then maybe, just maybe, we can get some better terms than we were left with at the end of the last war. That could make all the difference."
Valda snorted. "The army will very much not like that. If the threat from Inkopolis ends, they fear they will lose relevance and power."
"We'll have to find a compromise," Aaran said, raising his voice just a little. "The most important thing right now is to take the first step towards being in a position to get that compromise. If we delay too long, then the opportunity may pass. Are we all agreed that we want to replace Octavio as dictator as soon as possible?"
Heads bobbed around the room and Sevram felt himself relax. This had been what he'd wanted to accomplish for months. It had been easier than he thought thanks to Aaran's news, because it gave them a further goal to work towards. Now that they were set on removing Octavio from power, maybe now things could change, and for the better this time.
"Then we'll have to find a candidate," Aaran continued. "Whoever we choose must be able to control the army and see the broader picture. It'll have to be someone the army approves of."
"More than anything," Sevram said. "They will have to be able to deal with the fate of our people, of our civilization, on their shoulders. So, we best choose wisely, or the sun will set on our civilization before we pass from this world ourselves. So, any nominations?"
Author's Notes:
And that's it that's all. This epilogue lampshades some of the background issues that will be covered later. Even though this is the last chapter for what will probably quite a while with all the other projects I have on my plate in addition to writing the sequel, it's honestly hard to think of what to say except to thank everyone for sticking with me through this journey. I enjoyed writing this story and I hope I can bring the next one in sooner than I fear. I also hope it brought a more satisfying conclusion to Eight and Three's relationship, at least for now.