“Ruxbane,” the Exalted Speaker said. His voice echoed against the rounded walls. “You stand accused of disobeying the virtues of the Rokkir — the laws which keep us safe and our traditions alive. You have endangered your people by abandoning Aloma and travelling to the Igador system. How do you plead?”
“Guilty.”
The oldest Exalted scoffed. “This is a waste of time.”
“He is one of our people, Savenus, and so deserves fair trial,” the Speaker said.
“But it ends the same, fair or not.”
The Speaker turned his gaze back to Ruxbane. “You have committed a serious offense. You have endangered all Rokkir by entering the Igador system and potentially attracting the attention of the empire we barely evaded over two hundred years ago. It is disappointing that an intelligent, powerful man like yourself decided to betray his kin. We are in a position, granted to us by the virtues, to execute you for your discretions.”
A fire licked the inside of Ruxbane’s skull — a recently developed discomfort. Execution. Killing people during a birth crisis. What paramount stupidity. By necessity, the old ways had begun to disintegrate, but they were bringing the Rokkir down with them.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” the Speaker asked.
Ruxbane cleared his throat. “I claim the virtue of Sacrifice.”
The room hushed, like the walls themselves stopped to listen in.
“I have sacrificed our secrecy,” he continued, “our isolation. I have sacrificed my own life for the information I now carry. I have forsaken the virtues of Obedience, Duty, and Guardianship, but I have done so to ensure those icons of our existence remain worshipped for far longer than this generation of Rokkir.”
The Exalted ducked their heads and deliberated. It was Sacrifice which gave the Rokkir dark aether. It was Sacrifice that allowed them to flee the core empire. Ruxbane didn’t believe in the virtues — that all actions had to adhere to one of the nine, but the Exalted sat stuck in tradition. Given the old ways, they had to accept his invocation.
The Speaker straightened. “Demonstrate your claim.”
“Gladly. I believe those are my possessions which were confiscated on my arrival?” Ruxbane asked, nodding to the guard beside a table topped with electronics. “There is a tablet containing information I would like to share with the court. I have a solution to the birth rate problem. If I’m to be executed, at least let me part with the knowledge that can save our people.”
The Speaker nodded, and the guard connected the tablet to a projector which splashed the screen image onto the wall.
“On the main screen there,” Ruxbane said, “Play the file titled S-E-Q-1-1-0.”
A video played — a record of a sequencer he had developed months ago. A globule of animated dark aether morphed and shaped as a list of genomes scrolled by.
“This simulation studies the mutagenic effects of the dark aether on multiple DNA sequences — both existing and potential.”
“This is what you had shown me, boy,” Savenus growled. “The night before you betrayed your people and left.”
“What purpose does this serve?” one of the other Exalted asked.
“This was my hypothesis,” Ruxbane said. “As Dr. Savenus says, I visited him the night before I left Aloma. I’d hoped he would allow me permission to pursue my solution.”
“What is your solution, Ruxbane?” the Speaker asked.
“We’ve seen several species change after exposure to the dark aether, but we’ve never seen a species mutate additional cognitive abilities. Say — in simple terms — go from primal to intelligent, or experience brain growth. This effect would demonstrate favorable mutation and would thus be a milestone study to address our own genetic faults — such as our birth rate issue. I proposed this type of mutation was possible, and that a potential subject could exist in the Igador system, where the Transfusion likely affected local fauna.”
“All you did was prove that it could happen,” Dr. Savenus said. “Going to Igador was not a Sacrifice as you say. It was a pointless gamble.”
“There is good reason we have forbidden going back to Igador,” one Exalted said.
Another nodded her agreement. “It’s not worth risking another war with the empire. We barely escaped them. They believe us to be extinct, and that is to our benefit. You have gained us nothing, and so there has been no Sacrifice. Your risk was simply too high.”
“Too high?” Ruxbane tightened his fingers around the armrests of his chair. “Our species could go extinct in less than two generations if we don’t act! The homeland was and is our best option for answers!”
“How dare you call it the homeland,” Savenus hissed.
“I may not have been born there,” Ruxbane countered, “but I still weep for it as my father did.”
“Your father?”
“Savenus.” The Speaker’s glare halted the exchange.
Ruxbane breathed deep. The heat in the front of his skull hinted an upcoming headache. “Explaining the why is evidently pointless,” he said. “But I have brought back more than theories and excuses. Guardsman, open file M-O-D-K-0-0-1.”
The Speaker nodded, and a video appeared on the wall. The Exalted leaned forward in their seats. The mutation Ruxbane had been trying to prove existed sat right there before them.
“Exalted members of the court,” he said, “not only did I find what we need to fix our birth rate, but I have found a treasure trove of genetic mutation. Cognitive, physical — even communicative influence. All the answers we’ve been searching for. You may remember a species on planet Modnik we called wolves.”
The bipedal creature onscreen rose its head, silhouetted against the glow of the moon, its tail brushing elegantly across the windswept snow.
“May I present to you: the Varg.”
“Sir?”
Ruxbane turned from his reflection. That court case had been the start of everything, the first move in half a century of ladder climbing. Revolution, abolished traditions, new hierarchies, all set in place by his sacrifice — his discovery of the Varg.
He met eyes with the woman across from him, the scientist in charge of the operations here on Modnik. “Dr. Anso,” Ruxbane greeted.
“I’m happy to see you here, sir. When our bridge-hand told us, I had to come see for myself. I assume you’ve seen my messages, then?”
Ruxbane thought of the day before — all his planning to capture the girl, the pacing about the labs. “I’m sorry, I must have overlooked them.”
“I understand, sir. You are busy. We’re reaching max capacity on storage for the Varg. Our engineers are beginning to calibrate the dark aether discs for transportation, but we need coordinates for the Floating Isle. Would hate to lose Varg in the walls,” she chided, smiling.
Ruxbane said nothing.
“There are also a number of reports in need of your approval before wiring to Aloma. Not to mention your signature on some requisitions for more Aloman cave stone. We’re doing the best we can with current supplies, understanding of course that you can’t be so many places at once, but the Exalted refuse to part with Aloman resources unless you deem it important. I have filled out the requests fully.”
Ruxbane sighed. He could hear the accusation in the woman’s words. Ruxbane wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t trying hard enough. He’d spent his time chasing after this cure and he’d gotten nothing. He had to focus on the big picture.
“I do understand you are here on other business,” Dr. Anso continued. “The boy said you’d come here tracing a ship. It hasn’t appeared on our scanner yet, which means it’s likely in slipstream space. We will update you as soon as it makes contact.”