The Immortal Empire – Episode 1: Prelude

He had a very odd-sounding name to her, Dr. Cheever Carthy, the professor for Introductory Ethics and Philosophy of Melfina's college who also had a strange habit of posting his name in Japanese syllabary on the first slide of a digital presentation. It appeared as he introduce the subject matter for the first few minutes of that class's lecture. Sitting in the front row, Melfina couldn't read Japanese syllabary; she didn't even realize it was his name until another student told her.

The first slide came up with the title. Though the presentation looked rather dated, it was only a year old if that, and he'd credited another professor with it.

FILE No. 9917
Observations on Humans and Androids
© DR. KARTZ T.S. 159

"The difference," Dr. Carthy began, "…between humans and robots is obvious. After all there are clear differences between living and nonliving entities," he explained as an image of a human and a mechanical drone turned to anatomical cross-sections of themselves.

"But what about the differences between humans and cyborgs?" he asked, bringing up an image of a young cyborg. "This is not a problem—a cyborg is someone who has extrahuman abilities due to mechanical systems incorporated into their body," he said, the image changing to reveal the human's muscular structure and extensive prostheses.

"Bu how does one classify bio-androids?" he asked. Perhaps unintentionally, he brought up an image of what was clearly a bio-gynoid rather than a bio-android, a woman enjoying the company of a domestic pet. "Actually, this gives rise to ethical issues. If one were to classify a bio-android, it would be a life-form. As a cyborg is a person, a bio-android wherein machinery is combined with flesh, must also be a person. However, must humans say that they can't be regarded as human, as humans were created by God whereas androids were created by humans. Their reasoning is that we humans have souls, but androids don't."

Neither Dr. Carthy, nor any of her classmates knew Melfina was a bio-gynoid herself, and she intended to keep it that way. She kept a calm, politely interested expression on her face.

"However, the existence of a creator 'God', and even of a 'soul', has yet to be proven scientifically. So the classification of bio-androids remains unclear." Dr. Carthy put his hands together and cocked his head. "So where does this leave us?" he asked with some rhetorical flourish, ending the file.

Well before any student ventured a guess, he continued. "Well, there are other species, aren't there?" The class he was addressing—like every other class at this particular school—was filled with humans of some sort or another. There were no Corbanites, no Nayans, no Silgrians, even though there were Silgrian professors, Melfina had seen them, with their long necks and friendly grins. "This has brought us to another unending religious debate: assuming God created humans, what does that say about other sapient species? It's no secret that the human 'first contact' with other sapient species at the beginning of the Toward Stars calendar was initially seen as a challenging to the omnipresence, omnipotence, and omniscience of the human god or gods as it were. In fact some would argue that it's still the case, especially in regards to our most biologically-similar counterparts in the known universe."

Beginning a new file, he changed the image on the slide to a slender but large-chested woman with dark skin and dirty blonde hair, who wore dull-colored overalls over an undersized red shirt and a white helmet. She was carrying a pneumatic hammer of some type, standing on a steel girder high over the ground—a construction laborer.

"Of course, I mean the Ctarl-Ctarl, with whom we share extremely similar genetic material. A human god that did not create the Ctarl-Ctarl is, an obvious case, not a particularly omnipotent god, is it?"

As the head of the entire Imperial government, Prime Minister Koboro-Koboro had gradually sought to ease people's impressions of him as the years went by, or at least, the impression of the Ctarl-Ctarl. What Terrans or the Corbonites thought of him was of interest, but difficult to control, especially in the case of the former. Corbano knew the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire well, they'd seen dozens of prime ministers come and go over the last two dynasties as a "client state." But with the Terrans, it was like trying to force smoke conform to a particular shape.

People had been afraid of him in those early years, when a no-name junior MP of the Socialist Party, a complete unknown from the lower house of parliament with a few years service in the Imperial Navy's Office of Wartime Management and Oversight, the bureaucracy that monitored the bureaucracy as a whole, was chosen to represent a majority in the new government. That hadn't been his intention, but it happened anyway. Apparently, no amount of friendly smiling could hide the fact he had the face of a killer—something he didn't want to believe and troubled him profoundly, but he heard repeated just enough to put stock in. Part of remedying that unfortunate appearance was being as accessible as possible, especially to Her Imperial Majesty.

Always let them see you smiling—that was his idea. Koboro-Koboro was not the smiling type, unfortunately, though he had made himself as much during that previously campaign season. Democracy was imperfect, even Ctarl-Ctarl democracy which he believed, in earnest, to be the greatest most authentic democracy in the universe, and once it was clear he would be the Socialist Party's candidate for the highest elected office in the universe, his appearance mattered more. Be all smiles, gentle, harmless in appearance—all that mattered after his appointment. It mattered even more after he "brought down" Marianna IV, the current empress's aunt—an unfair description in his mind. He had not "brought her down," merely forced a solution to the succession crisis she was directly responsible for. Of course she hadn't meant for such a thing to happen, but she let it happen anyway, and what point was there having a prime minister if not to clean up the monarchy's messes?

"They still haven't forgotten that," he said to himself in a moment of privacy on his way to the Imperial Court. Not a courtier himself but an actual official of government, he'd been summoned by Her Imperial Majesty, and some things still worked that way. This is where he'd find her.

"His Excellency the Prime Minister," the honor guard officer introduced him, one of a half-dozen standing at attention in front of the Tachi-Tachi Hall of Victory, the massive reception hall that held the Crystal Throne. Of course Her Imperial Majesty had better things to do than sit on an ancient, somewhat uncomfortable chair, but it was how the Imperial Court still functioned even today.

Part of the crowd of courtiers—equal parts military officers in their dark green greatcoats, young celebrities, members of parliament and other people of some importance—turned to him very briefly and acknowledged him with polite nods. No salutes, as he wasn't a military leader, of course. The prime minister made through them, secretly a man with purpose, his way to his sovereign, as unobtrusively though not as quickly as he could have.

"Your Imperial Majesty," he said, bowing deeply.

The young beauty sitting in the ancient, awkward, uncomfortable-looking throne broke off her conversation with another woman and looked at him. "Mr. Koboro-Koboro!" Empress Kasara declared, her eyes widening. And she was a beauty, even he thought so—flawless copper skin, large blue eyes, and shimmering crimson hair. The Empire's head of state possessing such stunning good looks was advantageous—she was certainly more beautiful than her Terran counterparts or their daughters—but it was one of the few advantages the 21-year-old monarch actually had. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Of course, Your Highness," he assured her while she wrapped up her previous conversation. Kasara IV surrounded herself with her female friends constantly, perhaps her greatest source of joy and comfort. It was lonely at the top, to no one's surprise. The prime minister found it a little sad, but obviously made no impression of that as she beckoned him to the throne.

"I was visited by Lord Admiral Clan-Clan earlier today," she began in that soft, gentle-voiced manner of hers. "He...well, he knew my father when I was a child. You know that."

He gave the most subtle of nods. Dawid Clan-Clan was an admiral in the 181st Royal Taskforce, the large military fleet kept in orbit around the homeworld, and while technically a commoner—like the prime minister—was a close friend of Her Highness's late father, Emperor Anton. Unlike his predecessor, most of Anton's friends had been bourgeois, middle-class men, the "average sort" one might say.

"He mentioned he has a daughter my age who's still in the navy. If it's all right, I'd like to invite her to court," she said quietly. "If it's all right."

He reached into the archives of his mind—it was not realistic to know the standing of every daughter of every admiral in the entire Imperial Navy. But Dawid Clan-Clan was notable: he had been part of the staff that took the surrender of the Terran Forces in the last war, and also chaired the Supreme Military Council for Peacetime Policy. His wife was an ex-commando, an "Immortal Ctarl-Ctarl" as it were, and a common sight at court. He had three children, two sons and a daughter. The youngest of them, Aisha, was in Terran space on a very minor ambassadorship.

He remembered the only advice he ever got from his predecessor, an ascendant deputy prime minister from the rival conservative party who'd failed to be elected on his own merits in the general election: his party, the Imperial Victory and Order Party, had dominated the political landscape for so many many years under the prime minister before last, the political potentate who could've been sovereign, perhaps, but chose to be prime minister instead, and Kasara's great-grandfather.

Always keep your empress happy. That's what his predecessor had told him, the hostility plainly evident in his voice. Keep her happy, unless you don't plan to keep her at all.

"Of course, Your Highness, I can't think of anything that might possibly stay in the way of that. I'll send for her return immediately."

The pretty young woman beamed at him, all smiles again. Koboro-Koboro was almost old enough to be her father, and had served her father Anton before her. In fact, technically, he'd served three separate monarchs in his office.

Keep your empress happy if you intend to keep her.