What is an empire, what is an institution?
An empire, clearly, though it may extend in space and endure through time, is not a thing in any usual sense; for example, it is not like a tree or rock. Some empires may perish before a tree might bear its fruit and others might challenge the longevity of a rock. But they are not rocks and trees. One can see soldiers and ships, and walls and roads, but one cannot see an empire. Standards and flags, perhaps, but not empires. Yet not all empires wear the garments of power openly; as did, or does, the Telnarian empire; not all march with legions, and ship with fleets. Institutions, in their various sorts, are invisible, but sometimes real with a terribleness which would trivialize the splittings of worlds and the explosions of stars. Institutions differ. Some redeem and profit a species; others sink poisoned fangs into the mind; some transform and ennoble lives; others sicken quadrants, infecting them with the most virulent of plagues, those which prey on the innocence and vulnerability of the soul, particularly that of the young. How cunningly, cruelly, and arrogantly they groom the young to do their bidding and carry their burdens!
Science has become a secret thing, a thing of stealth and sorcerers. I have known men who believed that light was not simply there or not there, but that it moved, even as a horse or dog, and very rapidly. I suspect this is true. I have known men, too, who believed that the lights in the sky were not lamps, but distant orbs of flaming gas, some far away. Others, you see, besides myself, have read old books, sometimes hidden books, sometimes encoded long ago. Our science is the last word in all science, and the correct word, of course, for science is ended in our time, as we know all there is to know, or, at least, all that is worth knowing, but I know, too, there are a thousand sciences which differ from ours, doubtless therefore being incorrect, but I wonder sometimes if our science is correct, and I wonder, too, sometimes, if all these thousand sciences might not be incorrect. The world, even a small world, may be a difficult thing to understand. Fixed worlds, like tables, and borne lamps, are easier to fathom. We know about tables, and lamps, and candles. The annals hint at untold worlds, separated by almost inconceivable distances, of systems, and a galaxy, and of galaxies beyond galaxies. They suggest, too, routes, openings, crevices, passages, foldings, involutions, tunnels, and such, which, in some cases, would make far worlds neighbors. Two points on a map might be a yard from one another, but, if the map were folded in a certain manner, the yard might prove an illusion, and the width of a ribbon, two juxtaposed surfaces of the same map, pressed together, might bespeak reality.
I insist on my orthodoxy. What sane man would not? But in the inside, in the secret place, where there are no frames and ropes, and burning irons, one wonders. I do not fear thought, secret thought. It does not frighten me. It neither threatens nor jeopardizes my prestige, my position in society, my wealth, my power, or my livelihood.
So what is one to make of the Telnarian empire?
I think it existed, or exists.
Once my sleeve, long ago, briefly, brushed a golden column.
The watcher is gone.
I shall return to the accounts.
12
“They learn quickly,” said Julian.
“They are intelligent, highly so,” said Otto.
“Barbarians are to be feared,” said Julian.
“I am a barbarian,” said Otto.
“I fear you,” said Julian.
“Abrogate the project,” suggested Otto.
“It is the only hope for the empire,” said Julian. “The common citizens care only for their ease and comfort, their pleasures and entertainments, and will have others feed them, support them, and defend them.”
“Not all, surely,” said Otto.
“No,” said Julian, “but many are beaten down, and disheartened, crippled by prolonged labor, particularly by the forced labor of munera, in lieu of taxation. Many are mired, too, in the legal bindings, now widely spread, where one must follow one’s father’s calling, craft, or profession, this intelligently instituted to stabilize the tax base, and others are landless tenants, coloni, and others are serfs who, as with the legal bindings, are bound to the soil, who must live and die on the same plot of land. Such folk have little in common but their misery and want, and their hatred for any better off than themselves, for landowners, clerks, officials, overseers, even for the empire itself, which they see as their foe and oppressor. And, too, there are the ambitious, who seek gain, and power, and would pursue their own fortune at the expense of the empire.”
“Such, of course,” said Otto, “are useful to predators, in equipping and funding incursions.”
“True,” said Julian.
“My people,” said Otto, “lack the skills, the expertise, the tools, the resources, the industrial base to design and build fearsome weaponry and ships.”
“Others will do so,” said Julian, “others who remain unnoted, on far worlds, who fear to press a trigger, or grasp a helm, who wait to creep forward and feed on the kills of lions.”
“I am dismayed,” said Otto.
“Be not so, my friend,” said Julian.
“I know something of the forging of a blade of steel,” said Otto. “I know nothing of the forging of a blade of fire.”
“You need not,” said Julian. “It is one thing to manufacture a rifle or pistol, and another to use it effectively.”
“I do not care for such weapons,” said Otto.
“You like to be close to your kills,” said Julian.
“One knows then what one is doing,” said Otto. “One sees the blood, and may consider how far to go.”
“Uneasy restless worlds, several with diminishing, but yet-unexhausted resources, back invaders,” said Julian.
“And you would arm such men to resist such men?” said Otto.
“Yes,” said Julian.
“It is an unwise shepherd who brings in wolves to guard sheep,” said Otto.
“Sheep cannot guard themselves,” said Julian.
“Or will not do so,” said Otto.
“The perimeter is penetrated,” said Julian. “Worlds are lost, or fall away.”
“Permit them to do so,” said Otto.
“Never!” said Julian.
“The palace will have them abandoned,” said Otto.
“It must not!” said Julian.
“Perhaps the empire has grasped beyond its reach,” said Otto.
“Never!” said Julian.
“Perhaps it will draw back,” said Otto.
“To what?” asked Julian.
“To the inner worlds,” said Otto.
“The least retreat,” said Julian, “will be understood as a sign of weakness; it will arm enemies, and inspirit defiance. The first rock removed from a wall makes the second easier to dislodge.”
“Surely the inner worlds are more secure,” said Otto. “Will the palace not have it so?”
“The emperor is a boy, with the mind of a child, coveting toys and fearing insects,” said Julian. “He counts for nothing. His sisters are scarce worth a collar. Power is vested in the empress mother, a vain, timid old woman under the baleful influence of a courtier, one who fears me, and a new order in the palace, one intent to keep things as they are, one intent to protect himself, his position, and his power at all costs, though the empire crumbles.”
“Perhaps he merely sees the empire differently,” said Otto.
“The situation is desperate,” said Julian.
“So desperate that you would arm barbarians,” said Otto.
“Who else would have the courage and will to face foes so fearful, so dangerous and determined?” asked Julian.
“Hereditary enmities exist amongst tribes,” said Otto, “which you would seek to exploit.”
“One seizes what weapons lie at hand,” said Julian.
Here we may suppose that Julian had in mind, in particular, the hostilities between the tribes of the Vandals, amongst which was that of the Otungs, or Otungen, and those of the Alemanni, whose largest tribe was the Drisriaks.