Free The View from the Imperium by Jody Lynn Nye Page A

ship-mounted lasers!”
    “Yes, DeKarn is a good speaker,” the tattooed woman put in, nervously.
    “Thank you, Ten,” the First Councillor acknowledged. “But passion and authority are important, too. We must show a face to the Imperium that proves we have taken matters into our own hands.”
    “If we can,” Vasily Marden said, skeptically.
    “And that is what we are doing right now,” DeKarn said. Strike, as the old adage held it, while the iron was hot. She could send the poison chalice across the table to the man who wanted to drink from it. “Councillor Zembke has made some good points. I feel that strong leadership, one voice speaking for all of us, would be the best for the Cluster. We have been fragmented for too long. So much time has passed while we debate the correct structure, nomenclature, even the colors of a Cluster flag. It was all very well while we dealt largely with our own interests. Now that attention has been turned to us from the outside, it behooves us to define how we are seen, rather than let those who behold us make that definition. We should unite behind one strong figure, democratically chosen.”
    “Well, you are very good,” said Five. DeKarn smiled at him.
    “You are a member of my own party,” she said. “I hardly feel that you are a disinterested speaker.”
    “Not at all,” Five demurred. “I have always admired you. I feel you would be an excellent leader. It is a shame that we must move uncomfortably swiftly, but this is, as you suggest, a crisis.”
    “Don’t be too hasty,” DeKarn begged him. She was seeing Zembke’s opportunity slip away. Speak up! she thought at him. Instead, he glared at her. He believed she was trying to steal the leadership for herself. “Zembke has qualities that we would be wise to use.”
    “I think DeKarn’s the best of all of us. Don’t you agree?” Twenty twittered, tugging at her neighbor’s wide sleeve.
    Zembke felt rage swelling in him. No one would meet his eyes. They were all babbling. His carefully designed moment of triumph, ruined! “Silence! Listen to me!”
    No one listened. They were all talking. “Carry on . . . wonder what the envoy will say? . . . Be nice to hear from the old worlds after all this . . . new fashions!   . . . Change is so fast . . . What do you think they’re wearing? . . . Do we really need to decide on a leader? Can’t we all talk to the envoy?”
    “Silence!” Zembke bellowed.
    “Council!” DeKarn pounded her gavel. “Now, this is all very flattering, but it gets us no farther forward. All of you sit down. Now. This is a serious matter. I don’t want it to descend into trivia.” She turned a warning eye on Zembke. “Councillor Twenty-Nine. Make your case.”
    Zembke looked at the others. Most of the group seemed cowed by his outburst, but the others looked bored. A few were genuinely upset, including Marden, whom he had counted on as an ally. This couldn’t be happening. He had resources. He had supporters. But he had lost the room. He took a deep breath.
    “I apologize to the Council,” Zembke said hoarsely, sketching a small bow. He flicked a hand over a control. The star map behind him vanished, to be replaced by a pastoral scene. The others knew how rare such an unspoiled sight was on the Carstairs homeworld, which had been given largely over its history to mining and the smelting of minerals. Carstairsians were proud of surviving terrible conditions. He was making an open concession to peace. “I am only interested in our continued well-being. My view, as all of you know, is that would best be served in our continuing independence. I will not press for my point of view. But we do need a leader. One, and only one of us needs to speak for all to the Imperium. It would be an honor to serve in that capacity.”
    “I don’t think so,” chittered Sago, rising to his delicate hind feet. “You boom too much. Councillor DeKarn, what about you?”
    DeKarn cleared her throat. “I