CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

Snek and Brux were sitting with Joe and Mike under the stars of planet 6407-0A. Mike thought it was about time to change the name of the place. Nearly a month had passed since the battle. The colonists had spent the time celebrating and planning. The details of deconstruction of the camps and the colony and reparations were in the hands of LGBT accountants.

Snek was speaking, “We haven’t dealt with all the riches from the perfillian wood.”

Mike said, “Have the accountants set it up so the Lesbians can use it any way they wish.”

“They’ll be rich,” Snek said.

Mike said, “Good for them.”

They talked about the recently completed negotiations with all the factions.

This night Def had joined them on the planet’s surface. He said, “You know, the whole thing did not collapse because truth, justice, and right triumphed.”

Mike said, “I noticed.”

Def chuckled. “Yes, I imagine you would have.” Def paused a moment then said, “No. Your biggest enemies, the Religionists, were going broke. They’ve lost over half their seats in the Senate already.”

“Bankrupt?”

“On a scale not seen in ten thousand years. Their hatred got ahead of their cash. Fortunately, there are enough other rich people both for and against you who are very against going broke. Sure, Bex could milk the system for all the money he could make, but he was part of why it then collapsed.”

“Maybe he planned it that way and was really on our side.”

Def smiled. “Ha! He wouldn’t have sacrificed himself in a full-on battle. Bex wouldn’t sacrifice anything unless it would make him tons of cold hard cash. And see, the thing is, besides being the most powerful man in this part of the galaxy, you are now the richest.”

Mike knew this, but he said, “I still don’t get how those colony/prison laws work.”

Brux said, “My dear, you don’t have to get anything. The accountants have spoken. They are like money-lawyers with powers just short of God.”

Def chuckled. “They’re talking about executing accountants.”

Mike said, “I thought they were like saints.”

Def explained. “They won’t get far with annihilation. Cash is the heart blood of our existence. If you tried to change the reality of money, total chaos would ensue. The laws of greed are pretty strict. Now all you have to be able to do is defend your planet.”

Snek had assured them they should manage. They had the zukoh in weapons-grade form and could fire from the surface of the planet at any ship.

Def said, “We’re all still working on the implant technology and the further weapons uses of zukoh and even the peaceful uses of it. Depends on the timing. No one has as yet developed the technology. You’ve defeated the fleet. A direct violent frontal attack hasn’t worked. Bex was getting richer and richer and might have been in a position to challenge Mulk. If he’d kept his wits about him, he might have, but he was blinded by emotion. He wanted you dead,” he pointed at Mike, “and he wanted to be the one who did it.”

Mike said, “He lost.”

Later as they began to trek down to their room, Mike and Joe paused at the Story Wall. Five men were working on a lengthy new section. Eph stepped back when he saw them. He said, “We’re almost done.”

“What is it?” Mike asked.

Joe said, “It’s a section about you.”

Eph added, “Both of you. Your actions will be enshrined here forever.”

Mike felt his eyes get misty. The only thing he could think to say was, “Thank you.”

Eph drew close still with a work techno-chisel in hand. He bowed slightly, “No, thank you. Thank you both.”

They ran their hands over the etchings. Mike realized that a section was done in the language of Hrrrm. He took another step and saw that the next section was the same thing done in English. Mike felt tears start.

Eph said, “Joe worked on the translation and did some of the work.”

Mike and Joe thanked and shook hands with each of the men who were working.

Hand in hand they walked to their cubicle.

The next morning Mike and Joe were up early. Pav’s ship had returned and would bring them to the capital for a Senate meeting. At that time all the negotiated agreements would be fully ratified. Although the final result was already assured: freedom for all LGBT people, restoration of all implants, and reparations.

In the dawn the whole colony had turned out on the mesa. New men and women were arriving daily, several thousand by this time. The lesbians had come to set up the whole Perfillian wood concession: growth, production, and distribution. They were working as a collective along with the transgendered contingent.

Miners and workers had arrived for the liquid zukoh factories, but that work had just begun. Hiring quotas had been set up so that LGBT people would have preference: if all qualifications were equal, the LGBT person would get the job.

As he looked at the crowd, he felt pride in being gay and sharing with the men, and now some women, around him what was their own, that no one, he vowed, would ever take from them.

Mike and Joe reached the apex of the bridge.

As soon as the crowd caught sight of Mike and Joe, they began to cheer. Because of the acoustics of the hangar and the nearness of the mountain mass, the sound echoed and reechoed.

Mike and Joe smiled. And the crowd roared, and the roar didn’t stop, the echo came back as their own response, doubling and redoubling for Mike and Joe, for themselves, for the world they created.

At the center of the group Brux and several others had begun the Hrrrm National Anthem. A song that immortalized the bravery of the first emperor who, starting from almost nothing, triumphed over the chaos of the galaxy, bringing it its first true peace. The throng took up the song, learned from their earliest childhoods. Mike had first heard it just a few years before. Mike saw tears running down Joe’s cheeks and on the faces of many as the words and the music stirred them, the story of a single man’s triumph over the hostility and indifference of the galaxy. Mike himself felt the immense pride and elation the words of the song gave him. The melody struck him as a cross between “La Marseillaise” and the US national anthem. Now the words made sense, not as a paean to an empire that had cruelly used them, but for what the song truly was, a hymn to triumph over incredible adversity. The chorus swelled as they reached the hangar end of the bridge.

Moments later he was at the center of the crowd. Brux handed him a microphone. The old VEQ had told him he planned a goodbye ceremony and that he hoped Mike and Joe would speak. Joe had insisted that Mike be the one to talk.

Mike took the microphone. “We have made a home,” he told them. “Where the universe expected us to find dishonor and death. We have built the beginnings of a new world, not a simple colony or a city, but something that will last for all time, a beacon for all gay people, whether dragged here unwilling and afraid as we have seen or someday when the present evil has dimmed in our memories, finally drawn here by our triumph. Because now we know what it takes. The pure air of freedom, the knowledge that we will never live in fear again.” The roar was deafening, greater than they’d made before. They chanted Mike and Joe’s names until the sound rang and echoed. And when the echo died he spoke again simply. “Thank you from my heart. It has been a long journey.”

The cheering rose again, honoring him, for the hope he represented for the hope he gave, for themselves and the reality they had created, and for the great victory he had won.

As he walked to where the road began for their stroll to the ship, Mike and Joe reached out to touch and let themselves be touched. Mike held on tightly to Joe as he walked through the crowd.

Brux walked with them across the plain to the waiting ship. On the gangway, they paused.

Brux said, “I’ve never been so honored to know anyone.”

Mike said, “The honor is ours.”

Joe said, “And it’s not like we won’t be in contact. You’ve got to run this dump after we’re gone.”

Brux smiled. “I look forward to that. Perhaps someday.” His voice trailed off. He hugged first Joe then Mike.

Mike whispered as he broke away, “Perhaps.”