The Chronicles of Riddick - Alan Dean Foster [13]
The makeup of its citizenry attested to that. The city was home to every variation in stature, shade, and sensibility of contemporary humanity. It was reflected in the city’s art, in its commerce, in its entertainment venues.
It was also amply evident in its politics, which at the moment were undergoing an upheaval that found them uneasily balanced somewhere between the fractious and outright hand-to-hand combat. Uncommon to Helion government, yelling and shouting filled the outer chambers and anterooms of the capitol dome.
Pulling on a cloak, one man fled the cacophony. His expression showed him to be as disgusted as he was depressed. Curious beyond restraint, an aide intercepted the fugitive as he strode from the dome. With a nod of his head, he indicated the barely controlled chaos that presently filled the interior.
“Delegate Imam, I have worked for this government for twenty years. Never have I heard or seen such signs of serious dissention. What’s happening in there?”
The delegate paused, glanced back. “When all is said and done? Much will be said—and nothing will be done.”
Cloak swirling around him, he swept away. Behind him, the aide stared back toward the towering doors that opened into the dome. Like the majority of his Helion brethren, he was keen on order and predictability. The shouting and arguing within did not bode well for a continuation of such things. It was just as well he was not privy to the debate raging inside. More than a few of the comments and observations being made would have unsettled him a good deal more than he already was.
The defense minister was adamant. She was also louder than most of her fellow officials. Even in an age of advanced technology, a strong voice still had its uses.
“Shut down the beacons!” she roared. “We need to save the energy, save all resources for this world! We cannot continue to export at a time of such uncertainty, when planetary defense should be everyone’s first priority.”
Steramad disagreed, as he usually did. “We can’t be slaves to fear. What kind of message would that send to the people? Helion Prime is expected to set an example for the lesser nearby worlds. A specific threat must be identified before radical action is approved. We cannot react in panic to every rumor that—”
The respected clerical delegate ar-Aajem cut him off. “Rumor? Is it rumor that we have lost communication with another world?” He gestured emphatically to his colleagues. “One such incident suggests communications failure. Multiple ones suggest something far more sinister. You all know to what I refer.”
Someone shouted, “We should try and make contact, negotiate with them.”
“Them?” another delegate countered. “Who’s even seen ‘them’? Who even knows what they want? If ‘they’ even exist. There could be other explanations, as Steramad says.”
A second cleric rose to speak. “Seven worlds, at least seven worlds have gone silent! That is all the explanation I and my department require. Can one be blind to the deafness of one’s neighbors? What more proof do we need?” He waved in the direction of the defense minister. “We must prepare, and quickly.”
“Twelve worlds!” The new voice teetered on the edge of panic. “My sources say twelve have gone silent!”
Steramad’s strongest ally in session was Teyfuddin. Raising his voice, that worthy attempted to counter the rising feeling of hopelessness. “But not one in this system. Planets are not countries. We share no direct border with those worlds that seem to be experiencing these problems. With those in our system we share a sun, and they continue to communicate with Prime as efficiently as always.” He regarded the sea of anxious faces.
“I share your concerns. Such increasing silence from beyond Helion is troubling. But civilization has known many troubles, and still survives. History tells us that not all troubles visit all worlds. Nobody here today knows where this