Malina couldn’t decide if this summons was some sort of provocation or power play. The Spacing Guild was as important a pillar to the Imperium’s stability as CHOAM, separate but intertwined, associates of equal rank. No Guild representative could command the Urdir, yet neither could the Ur-Director ignore such a meeting. Malina rose from her desk and brushed away the fine powder of ashes from the destroyed document. She hoped this was an opportunity rather than an obligation.
Less than ten minutes after receiving the message, as she finished preparing herself for the mysterious meeting, her security captain announced, “Urdir, a Guild escort has appeared at the hatch claiming you have an appointment. I was not aware of this.” He looked concerned. “Shall I arrange a team of guards for your safety?”
“No, my safety is ensured,” she said. Whatever this was about, it would be no amateurish assassination attempt. “You are not aware of this meeting. You were never aware. You do not know it is happening.”
He bowed and stepped back. “I do not know it is happening.”
Like all the other craft hauled aboard the Heighliner, her ship was attached to the inner hull of the enormous hollow ship, each vessel locked into a docking cradle and linked with various umbilicals. Now a connecting tube sealed against her ship’s external hatch to let her enter the gigantic Heighliner proper.
After she traversed the connector tube, Malina met a bland-faced, bald man in a gray shipsuit that bore the Guild’s infinity symbol. He stood with arms straight at his sides, face forward, shoulders square. “Ur-Director, I am here to escort you to the piloting deck. We will use back passages, out of respect for your privacy.”
Expecting her to follow, he walked at a methodical pace along a bright, featureless corridor. After traversing several sections, the gray-clad man turned abruptly and walked face-first into a smooth wall. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t blink, simply stepped directly through the bulkhead. As he vanished inside, Malina realized it was a hidden door covered by a camouflage hologram. She followed him through the illusion and found herself in a dim passageway that led to a private lift. The Guildsman motioned for her to enter, then stepped back. He did not speak another word.
The door slid shut, and the lift capsule circled around the curved hull of the enormous Heighliner. It shifted course to travel along the axis, then locked in place with an abrupt stop. She emerged onto the secure piloting deck as if she were attending an ordinary business conference.
The woman waiting for her was as tall as an Amazon warrior and muscular enough to fill out her Guild shipsuit. Malina could not identify the numerous rank insignia, but this was obviously a person of some note, dominating the chamber.
The piloting deck was encircled by wide plaz windows. The view was filled with the stars of empty space in one direction and the half-lit sphere of the planet below. As the Heighliner orbited Borhees, homeworld of House Kolona, bright sparks of ships disembarked from the hold, but Malina’s attention was drawn to the large tank inside the chamber. Sealed within, a soup of orange spice vapor curled around the distorted silhouette of a Guild Navigator.
Malina narrowed her eyes. This would be a most interesting conversation.
She said, “I am here. You wished to meet?” She glanced at the towering Guild woman, then faced the mutated shape inside the swirling gases of the tank. She knew the power nexus in this conversation.
Navigators were advanced, evolved human subjects whose superior minds were so saturated with spice that they dwelled in a universe of mathematics, physics, and prescience. Only under the rarest of circumstances did they deign to speak with normal humans. Even important Guild officials such as this towering woman could barely relate to the creatures.
“Ur-Director.” The Navigator’s voice wobbled from a speakerpatch in his tank. “You are CHOAM. I am the Spacing Guild. We are the warp and weft of the tapestry that is the Imperium.”
Malina took a step closer to the tank. The Amazon woman stood silently, watching her.
“Spice is the thread,” Malina said. She smelled lingering cinnamon undertones, hints of melange gas that had escaped from exhaust vents.
The Navigator bobbed, the silhouette swelling larger so that she caught a clear glimpse of his bloated head and eyes, the shriveled body floating in dense gases. “We must speak of spice and the tapestry … whether it can be unraveled, and rewoven. You, Ur-Director, are a tangle of these threads.”
Malina frowned. “I was not aware that Guild Navigators were so skilled with metaphors.”
“Atasia will explain,” the distorted figure said. With a trickle of static from the speakerpatch, his voice fell silent. The shape retreated into thicker vapors.
The Guild woman, Atasia, took charge. “Our Navigators see safe paths through the galaxy, while our engines fold space and carry us from place to place. Without spice, Navigators could not see. The Spacing Guild is dependent on spice.”
Malina was impatient. “I know all this. Every child in an Imperial school knows this.”
“Spice is necessary.” Atasia followed the comment with a surprising statement. “But the Imperium is not the only possible construct for human governance. The Imperium was sewn together as a convenient framework after the Butlerian Jihad. House Corrino became predominant among the League of Nobles, and the basic ruling structure has remained unchanged for millennia.”
The Urdir faced the woman who stood a head taller than she, though she did not think Atasia was trying to intimidate her. Malina said guardedly, “CHOAM has long been part of that framework. The stability of the Imperium is better for commerce than the chaos of civil war.”
“Independence and free trade are also good for commerce, as you know well, Urdir.” The Guild woman’s voice was cold and flat. “We know what the Noble Commonwealth aims to achieve. We saw what your son did at Otorio, and we do not approve of such action.”
A chill went down her back, and Malina responded sharply. “Nor do I approve of it! I already denounced Jaxson on Kaitain. I am not associated with his terrorist acts. I have had no contact with him.”
“You are not entirely disassociated,” said Atasia. “We know of CHOAM’s long-standing and secret advocacy of the Noble Commonwealth.”
“That has never been proven,” Malina said, realizing it was not a denial.
“Political projections and models of government suggest that a myriad of independent planets may be beneficial to the expansion of civilization. The structure of the Imperium, and specifically the rulership of House Corrino, may not be the best format for the Spacing Guild or CHOAM to thrive. Given the constraints of distance, the lack of instantaneous communication, and the sheer magnitude of worlds and populations, a central autocratic ruler may not be wise for our future. It is a limiting factor.”
“Why are you saying all this to me?” Malina asked, feeling unbalanced. “The disruption of a civil war would be bad for business.”
“But history shows that war is often good for business,” Atasia pointed out.
Malina could not deny the assertion. “What do you want me to say?” She didn’t understand what the Guild hoped to accomplish with this unfocused conversation.
“We mean for you to listen. That is why we brought you here.”
Atasia turned back to the spice-filled tank and waited in tense silence. Finally, the speakerpatch activated again, though the Navigator was now concealed in the orange mist.